Its always a bit hard to find something to write about, but boy or boy did I hit the jack pot today. I'm, sorta on that high one feels right after an event, the mood when you feel like telling everybody what just happened to relive the whole sorted mess again ( duh right?). Anyway I totally hit someones car (again) today. It totally wasn't my fault you know? like he was all up on the car and like I was soooo in the clear before I pulled out and all. Dionne talk aside, I really hate driving. On that note I did come to the realization that as long as it does not end up costing me alot of my money the whole thing will be a great learning experience, unoe for the FIFTH time I've had a run in with other people and their cars. Anyway. So I start the work for a recreation place ( name redacted) on monday so *yea* me I guess. For the next year and a half my afternoons will be spent babysitting after school kids. I'll say one thing about the ymca they sure know how to pick'em. Nobody, and I mean not one of the people I did the training with had any amount of snark for the entire time I was there and that freaked me the fuck out. I mean you imagine that somewhere there has got to be a company that actually can hire an entire stay of really positive people and these people actually are truly that but this company, what with their appeal to college students is not one of those companies, at least I thought. The good thing is though the girl I got paired with worked with me early on friday and while were there I could have sworn she said "fuck" so hopefully I'm not going to be stuck with a bunch of goodie two shoes all year.

I'm a masochist in every sense of the word ( I've had to write that 3 times now). I hate the fact that I have to mention *work* twice but, R is having a party and told L right in front of me that she should come, didnt bother asking me if I wanted to come but I guess you get what you shell out. Ok, so I said it I've looked at it in type, so I should probably move on from it. Its one of those thoughts that the reader just rolls their eyes at thinking "what a dumb ass" why am I bothering to read this crap. Anyway, I went to lunch with one girl today and helped write an essay for another, all the while thinking of it more of a chore then fun. Keeping tabs on people so that later when I have that moment of desperation I can reach for the phone and have them right there. Essentially I guess this is how it works.

I miss couture. I miss Dior Couture and enjoying every bit of each show (this is Valentino btw). With the show coming up tomorrow I hope that Galliano does something that will really get me interested again. the last few years have just been really lack luster in the sense that it feels dated (alicia fucking keys and mgmt for fall 09? No way, this slip in the past few seasons of the show ( mind you the clothes are ok) I think had something to do with the death of that guy because from then on things got really blah) and some of that has to do with the fact that maybe I just got too old to be suckered in by the dream. On this note I also miss tfs, fashion was kind of my undertone, don't know why i gave it up sept the fact there is no money to be had in it, but least with that I had fun as opposed to all the other crap I've been doing for the last two years. Lets hope I return a bit of myself circa 2007ish, in the sense that I can think more about the goals and shit I made before and focus more on fixing them. Not like I wasn't doing it all along but now I have all the unwanted results stored and a bit to use as I move on. hopefully that'll work because I aint go no time for fo fake niggas, i wanna sip crystal with real niggas, from east to west coast spread love niggas and white british baby bitches talk shit I'll count bank figures.

I spent the early part at my job avoiding my coworkers. I secretly loved to see what kind of mutant relationship could spawn out my actions, or non actions if you will. Having not told them anything about myself has led me to trickle information for the last 3 years. Typing that out just now makes the whole act seem very infantile. 3 years of avoiding people. Any way I can't go anywhere without creating, or finding, that ideal. The one that I'll avoid the most and have the most awkward stare contests with. Work is no exception to that rule and there I have BMK ( initials). Its funny how when you see the ideals other half they never live up to what you thought they should be with. He came in a year ago around the holiday time with this thing wrapped under one arm and I thought "well thats no good, was this all he could snag?". Then again i've never been one to say the opposite to that. BMK has this certain tone to his voice and a bit of a lisp. At first it was funny, then it was annoying and now its just stuck in my head. I'm taking an art class and BMK out of all the people in the world is in it, so there's an instant conversation starter, if I ever needed one. I'm always in aw of the idea of straight relationships, the idea that nobody is taking these cookies so there is no problem showing them off. He took off his shirt friday while changing at work as I stood behind him. I swear I'm not as covert as i like to think I am and frankly I'm much more of a 12yr girl about these things then I really want to be. maybe he already knows what my angle is and maybe its just a matter of time before things get hairy. After class we were discussing the project about straight angles in which i explained how hard the project was, an ongoing moan I ended by saying and yeah I don't do well with straight angles, I like free and curvy lines. I did not blink one bit before saying it and I added in something I can't recall to clean it up. Honestly I'm tired of creating that ideal or having to deal with that game I create every time a new set of people come in. Its a game I've played forever and it scares me how much its probably defined my idea of what relationships are. Fragmented as this whole thing may have sounded this whole game is a complex mind fuck that I've refused to end out of fear i'll have nothing left to think about in public.