De Stilj - Buy it Today!
I told myself I would NOT get on the computer tonight. You can see how well I listen to myself.
Yesterday I talked to my recruiter and told her I wanted to leave the firm. She gave me an ominous warning: "it's very slow for paralegals right now..."
Okay. Fine. Seven more days and counting.
Let's move on, shall we? Denial is a nice, nice thing. I told my dad my news and he chuckled and said, "Well, so you and Simon can live in your car, right? Just drive out to Santa Monica and park by the beach? I mean, if you're going to be homeless, you're in the right city...you won't freeze."
Last night laying awake in bed I began to worry. This morning trying to get out of bed for this job I realized again that I made the right decision. As I was telling S last night on the phone, no more mini-crises at the metro station, taking little stupid mini-steps forward and backward, forward and backward, should I go I can't go, should I go I can't go, should I go I can't go. Rent. Bills. Rent. Bills. Eat. Must Eat. Rent. Bills. Rent. Bills. Must Eat. Forward backward, forward backward. Pull out cell phone. Who to call to freak out to. Who will put up with my stupid crisis. Rent. Bills. Rent. Rent. Rent. Rent. I can't go. I have to go. Go. Go. Go.
Monday through Friday. That.
So I've been listening to the White Stripes, De Stilj CD for days now. I bought it a long time ago - been a fan for awhile. Anyway, it's one of those great CDs that you listen to the first time and it doesn't really grab you, so you put it away (or move it halfway across the country) and then one day, you pull it out of the collection and wonder, uh. Wonder if this is any better the 2nd time around? And GOD YES, this is a fucking wonderful CD. It's like White Stripes, southern style. Very blues-influenced. Makes you wanna drink a ton of beer and get naked. Did I just type that?
Was I right-on about Terrence Howard and his performance in 'Hustle & Flow' or what? I felt truly validated today when 'they' announced the Oscar noms and sure enough, there was Mr. Howard...
The guitar-playing neighbor upstairs is truly annoying. Apparently he's quite the singer, too. Likes to spontaneously burst into song and belt out his little ditties loud enough for me to hear him downstairs. Like he's cute or something. Yeah, he is cute, but shut the fuck up. Your songs suck. And take that damn stupid hat off your head you use to cover up your nasty, scruffy, just-so bleach-blonde hair that you totally planned to look just like it looks. Freakin' hipsters. You want real dirty hair? Come downstairs and vist me on a Sunday evening. I'll have some dirty hair for ya. Shithead. Fake dirty haired dumbass.
You wouldn't know this, but I am giving myself quite a laugh here...okay, time for me to get off blogger before I start talking about the president.
Yesterday I talked to my recruiter and told her I wanted to leave the firm. She gave me an ominous warning: "it's very slow for paralegals right now..."
Okay. Fine. Seven more days and counting.
Let's move on, shall we? Denial is a nice, nice thing. I told my dad my news and he chuckled and said, "Well, so you and Simon can live in your car, right? Just drive out to Santa Monica and park by the beach? I mean, if you're going to be homeless, you're in the right city...you won't freeze."
Last night laying awake in bed I began to worry. This morning trying to get out of bed for this job I realized again that I made the right decision. As I was telling S last night on the phone, no more mini-crises at the metro station, taking little stupid mini-steps forward and backward, forward and backward, should I go I can't go, should I go I can't go, should I go I can't go. Rent. Bills. Rent. Bills. Eat. Must Eat. Rent. Bills. Rent. Bills. Must Eat. Forward backward, forward backward. Pull out cell phone. Who to call to freak out to. Who will put up with my stupid crisis. Rent. Bills. Rent. Rent. Rent. Rent. I can't go. I have to go. Go. Go. Go.
Monday through Friday. That.
So I've been listening to the White Stripes, De Stilj CD for days now. I bought it a long time ago - been a fan for awhile. Anyway, it's one of those great CDs that you listen to the first time and it doesn't really grab you, so you put it away (or move it halfway across the country) and then one day, you pull it out of the collection and wonder, uh. Wonder if this is any better the 2nd time around? And GOD YES, this is a fucking wonderful CD. It's like White Stripes, southern style. Very blues-influenced. Makes you wanna drink a ton of beer and get naked. Did I just type that?
Was I right-on about Terrence Howard and his performance in 'Hustle & Flow' or what? I felt truly validated today when 'they' announced the Oscar noms and sure enough, there was Mr. Howard...
The guitar-playing neighbor upstairs is truly annoying. Apparently he's quite the singer, too. Likes to spontaneously burst into song and belt out his little ditties loud enough for me to hear him downstairs. Like he's cute or something. Yeah, he is cute, but shut the fuck up. Your songs suck. And take that damn stupid hat off your head you use to cover up your nasty, scruffy, just-so bleach-blonde hair that you totally planned to look just like it looks. Freakin' hipsters. You want real dirty hair? Come downstairs and vist me on a Sunday evening. I'll have some dirty hair for ya. Shithead. Fake dirty haired dumbass.
You wouldn't know this, but I am giving myself quite a laugh here...okay, time for me to get off blogger before I start talking about the president.
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