Tuesday, March 30, 2010

when do you get to that point where enough is enough?

if that question sounds vaguely borrowed from somewhere else it is because this was actually the central question in the movie "the mexican" with julia roberts and brad pitt.

wait...come back...don't stop reading just yet.

a lot of people hated this movie, but i'm a total sucker for love stories. even if they star america's sweetheart. wait...is julia roberts america's sweetheart? or is that sandra bullock? actually i don't think it can be sandra bullock. given that her estranged husband seems to only be interested in some really freaky dames, this seriously calls her sweetheart status into question. i don't care how 'nice' she looks. that doesn't mean anything.

this, however, is far from the point...

if you love someone the answer to the original question is...never.

you know i love you, but i just can't take it...

i've been thinking a lot about that lately. for example, take the words 'i love you,but...'

there shouldn't be a but. either you love someone or you don't. maybe the appropriate response is 'i love you and...'

i love you and i'm here for you even if things are hurting me right now.

i love you and i'm trying to put my issues in check. (it's much harder than you think)

i love you and...nothing.

i just love you.

Monday, March 29, 2010

to all the gays i've loved before

in honor of the fact that ricky martin came out today, at long last, i am writing a special blog dedicated to gay men everywhere. i love you all.

in fact, the best relationships i've ever had have been with gay men.

i think that it is possible that i am actually a gay man trapped in a woman's body. i am super fabulous. i am catty to death. i'm comfortable discussing the most outrageous sexual details. and i understand the suffering of social ostracization.

but mostly i am super fabulous.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

the hobbesian turn

i had this one professor for whom the answer to any question he might ask ultimately rested in the war of all against all. he was this old, frail, white man, so i think he knew that his chances of surviving said war were slim to none and therefore he was keenly intent on avoiding it at all costs. at the core of his being he feared the relaxation or abandonment of procedure, etiquette, or legal imperative. for he believed in his soul that human beings were incapable of restraining themselves without them. they are the only things between us and imminent battle to the death.

it has reached that point in my apartment complex.

my earlier entry detailed last night's shenanigans. apparently, all it takes is a catalyst like that to bring formerly coexisting neighbors to each others throats. add some allegations of meth, some serious lack of parental supervision, and some racial slurs to the mix. let the battle begin.

i thought there was something weird about the whole thing. i knew those kids were lying to the cops about being in the ally. there's plenty of street parking where i live. and i heard the whole commotion in the apartment below mine. where they had all been partying for hours.

i don't think the gun was a lie. because i heard everyone screaming.

but it seriously isn't my business. that's why i neither called the cops nor spoke to the cops.

well today my neighbor (the one who did call the cops) was outside my window talking to someone about what happened last night. then the chick that lives below him (whose kid was involved) came out and told him to shut the fuck up. then an epic battle ensued. one involving accusations in both directions.

meth use. racism. domestic violence. lack of parental control. and much more.

what a tangled web i live in.

i am now sitting at a coffee shop. trying and failing to work. sigh.

on the upside...it has given me something to blog about.

gangsta gangsta

i woke up at 2am to the sound of people screaming.

ok. so mostly it was one hysterical girl screaming. but there was a commotion. it was hard to tell because i was sleeping. and the goings on sort of bled into my dream which was already this strange combination of curry and the birthing journey via the book about natural childbirth that my sister recommended to me, which i was reading immediately prior to falling asleep.

right before falling asleep i recall thinking...maybe i should take that last painkiller. then i will sleep soundly. but then i thought that my back really didn't hurt that bad anymore, so i would save it until it was necessary.

so as it was, i was sleeping the restless sleep of a curried mind.

when i woke to the sound of screaming.

at this point he sound of screaming moved to the street under my bedroom window.

i went into the living room and looked out my window to see a few curious neighbors coming out into the courtyard. i don't know my neighbors super well. but there is a couple that lives downstairs. other neighbors always mistake me for that girl, so i remember them. i saw the guy outside.

i had been about to go talk to ask him what was going on, but then i realized that he was on the phone calling the police. i stayed in. i don't talk to cops. then the girl came out and he told her to go back inside right away and stay there. and she did. which freaked me out. because she's kind of hard and not the type to just do anything.

so through eavesdropping on the neighbors, i learned that apparently the drug dealing neighbors downstairs had pulled a gun on some kids and robbed them.

then the cops came. for like two hours. and the girl screamed. for at least 1.5 hours. about having a gun to her head. all the methhead neighbors from down the street came out. it was quite the gathering.

i knew the guys they were talking about. i did not know they were dealing. they're pretty quiet. not a lot of people coming in and out.

to be clear...i have no moral stake in the drug trade. what people do for money means fuck all to me. in this economy, one thing is as moral as another.

what i do have a problem with is these fake-ass gangstas perpetrating some bullshit where i have to live.

it's like...really? REALLY?

are times so ill that you are trying to go to prison? did you really think these kids weren't going to call the cops? even though it wasn't them that actually did call the cops. did that girl really seem like you could put a gun to her head and she would not freak out?

because that's supposedly what happened. she just kept screaming over and over. how the guy put a gun to her head.

they say everything has it's purpose. i complained about the crime in memphis. but having lived there is the only reason i can leave my house this morning.

i don't think this was some completely random incident. but still....

i don't want to come home late at night and walk into the middle of some shit that doesn't concern me. and get a gun put in my face.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

the best of both worlds

sometimes i make food so delicious i surprise even myself...

my two favorite food types at the moment are mexican and indian. and let me tell you...there's absolutely NO reason why you can combine them. none at all.

so here is my combination... i made butter chicken. from scratch. with ghee that i made from scratch (which i actually do all the time now because 1. it's super easy 2. the taste is superior to butter and 3. deepak chopra says it's healthy for you).

so anyway, i've never made butter chicken before and i only order it sometimes, so honestly i felt that it was missing something and i really didn't know what. but the beauty of indian food is that is it a very side dish driven cuisine and, as such, you can make up for deficiencies in the main dish with appropriately seasoned accompanying foods.

because i never tire of combining my favorite things...i mixed mangoes, avocados, red onion, scotch bonnet peppers (my favorite pepper), jalapenos, cilantro, and lime juice. and i made black beans. i soaked the beans all day with onion, red bell pepper, chunks of lime/ginger, garlic, cinnamon, and cloves. then i cooked all of this together. then i took out only the lime chunks and mashed everything else. then i added crema fresca, my new secret ingredient for anything that requires finishing with cream. i finished the butter chicken with it, as well.

if you haven't used/tasted crema fresca before, go to the nearest tienda without hesitation and pick some up. it has the sweetest flavor. it's also thicker than cream. it's a lot like creme fraiche. and it doesn't add than much fat to your dish. seriously. usually you pour it on top, but it works well blended in.

so basically...

indian+mexican=the best meal you've ever had. and the answer to satisfying my cravings.
today is pretty much a waste of my time.

last night? i couldn't get to sleep at all. i had horrible dreams. i think these dreams were the result of two factors. one is that my back hurts really, really bad. i realize that this is from walking around LA in 5in heels. actually, my back started hurting before that and i think it was made worse by the shoes. but i look so good in them, so if i had to do it again i would do no differently.

the second, is the curry i ate for dinner. i made butter chicken from scratch. it was delicious. but i really think that the spices make me dream weird things.

but i woke up freaked out. and in a super, super bad mood.

i am super resentful right now. i just want to wake up one day and be happy. i don't know how to do that. i afraid of being happy. i hate thinking about the future. because every time, and i mean EVERY time i have been in a place where i felt comfortable making plans, something has gone wrong and prevented me from getting what i wanted.

i finally thought i found something i could do with my life. then i came to this wretched place. and now i hate everything i used to love. there's nothing for me here. i can say that coming here was the worst error in judgment that i ever made. other than my judgment re: people i become romantically involved with.

i dread getting out of bed. i feel sick like all the time. i get migraine headaches to the point where i can't see straight. i have to lay down in a dark room. sometimes my head hurts so bad i get physically ill. all of this is exacerbated by the fact that i get like two-three hours of sleep/night. it just takes me longer to do things. it is incredibly frustrating. beyond frustrating.

don't even get me started on relationships. the past, however, is always close behind. i just can't let go. it doesn't matter who it is. i have serious trust issues. and i don't know what to do about it. i want to believe. but the cold, hard truth is that i've heard it all before. from people that you would never, ever, ever think would lie to you. it doesn't matter how well they know you. it just doesn't matter.

people lie for all kinds of reasons. i just wish i didn't have to always be to me. because i'm more or less an honest person. all right. that hasn't always been true. i've lied about things. but they weren't so much lies, as they were...omissions. because people don't always need to know the truth about certain things. because every time i've been completely honest about issues that i have, it has always ended badly.

so every relationship get in, i critically assess every action. i look for patterns. any deviation freaks me out. i'm OCD like that. i constantly need to know that everything is ok. and i just know the end is coming. and sometimes the end comes before the beginning.

sometimes it's better that way.

i have never believed that is better to have loved and lost. i think it is better to have never loved at all. the pain of constant failure is too severe.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

knowing me, knowing you...

statistics we just have to face it this time...we're through.

123654 asked me the other day if there would ever be a happy ending on this blog. this is yet to be seen.

the answer for statistics and is...no.

finally. i thought i had gotten to the point where my mind was opening to you, data. i had developed a genuine interest in models.

but i'm not smart enough. that is the cold hard truth. i have worked the past 10 weeks for nothing. my brain isn't quick enough. i also think in pictures. which only hurts, it never helps.

finally. after three years i have the most basic points of reference for statistical analysis. i can see the basic regression formula in my head. if someone says 'residual' i can see both the equation form AND the graph of what it looks like.

i wrote the first paper ever that i wanted to keep working on after i turned it in. i thought so hard about every detail. i would go to sleep thinking about my model. i would wake up thinking about it.

but it's also the only paper that it's pointless for me to even look at again. because i'm not smart enough to do it. that much is clear. i tried to believe that with enough hard work and sacrifice, i could do it.

i couldn't.

i'm so devastated. i have never really failed at something that i really tried to do before. except relationships. i work harder than anyone.

i was sleeping for like two hours a night. it takes me longer to do things. i accept that.

but for what? to perpetually feel bad about myself?

statistics, we just have to face it this time we're through.

i thought this would be a happy day. that i would be glad to see you go. that i would feel nothing but relief.

instead.... my heart is broken. truly.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

i want to make love in this extravagant beverly hills steakhouse

last night 123654 and i went out for steak. or rather, we were taken out for steak. to an ultra-swanky beverly hills steakhouse. by a true friend. the kind of friend that knows that the best way to show you care is with a double cut porterhouse (123654 had the ribeye) and lobster mashed potatoes.

the potatoes, i must point out, were not like the lobster mashed potatoes i've had at some places where they try to stretch the lobster as far as possible by mincing it super fine and blending it in. places get away with this mostly because lobster is so rich anyway that you don't feel as though you're missing out. that was not the deal at this place. these potatoes basically had whole lobsters (i'm guessing at least one) chopped into chunks so big you couldn't fit them in your mouth an spooned on top of the most creamiest potatoes ever. and they were swimming , no, DROWNED in butter.

other than the food, there were two main highlights to the evening.

the first, was the pianoman. for the beginning part of the meal we were kind of tuning him out, as he was just there to provide easily ignorable background music for the rich businessmen, anniversary having couples, and cougars went about their respective businesses. and he was. but then we started noticing his, um, varied repertoire. is that radiohead 'karma police'? followed by james taylor 'fire and rain'? topped off with usher 'i wanna make love in this club'?

yes indeed.

we spent the entire car ride back from beverly hills to downtown singing gangster rap songs in this style, coming to the conclusion that it will never NOT be funny to do so.

the second highlight, should i say hilarious moment came during our anniversary scam for free dessert. when our friend r. made the reservations he told the restaurant that we were celebrating an anniversary. because if you are, you get free chocolate cake. delicious chocolate cake. however, he didn't specify whose anniversary it was. so when the waiter offered the congratulations, asking who was having the anniversary, r. told the waiter that it was mine and 123654's.

this? completely blew our waiter's mind.

apparently, he's seen it all working in that restaurant. diamond rings hidden in caviar. people almost choking on said rings. red bows on benz's. other elaborate marriage proposals.

but THIS?

he never would have expected. we had such nice smiles. and pretty faces. and the way we looked at r....

but that it was his own small mind that kept him from suspecting, but that he thinks it's beautiful anyway. because at this steakhouse, they are very open to things like that.

but...wow...he never would have guessed.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

linearity is no proxy for monotonicity

i just took my statistics final yesterday.

it was even more horrifying than i could have possibly imagined. or maybe my statistical skills are just more horrifyingly poor than i could possibly imagine.

it was devastating, because although i've increased my substantive knowledge of statistical things so much...it the end it wasn't enough. i might as well have been at the bar. i might as well have been laying out in the sunshine. i might as well have been doing a thousand other things that make me happy. instead of spending countless hours, which probably added up to days, on this.

because all that matters is that i did bad on this test. it doesn't matter that i totally expanded my mind. that i have begun to appreciate the beauty of statistical modeling.

i can see the theoretical flaws, but not the mathematical implications of these flaws. i can tell why a model is inappropriate vis a vis different modeling techniques (to an extent) but not what this means it terms of standard error or variance.

i can grasp and appreciate achen's important distinction between linearity and monotonicity and why this matters in relation to omitted variable bias.

mostly because i can relate to it. the increase in my knowledge is expected to exist as an increasing function of trying to master as many complex details in ten weeks, with a basic overview of the necessary skills needed to do so. there's no time to understand. no time to work it out. you just have to do it.

but my relationship to statistics is, at best, non-linear.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

airing grievances in public...and other things that are played put....

because i'm not just here to cry about my feelings. because i am here to keep everyone up to date on big things like vajazzling (yes. i just wanted to put that word in the conversation).....

i bring you a list of things that are played out....

1.) the public airing of grievances. and by public i mean facebook. why advertise your issues in a status update? why? i do it occasionally. in an ironic way. and if not...i am up front about the fact that it is a clear cry for attention. much like this blog. otherwise it's just the pinnacle of self-righteous, passive aggressive desperation. i'm declining the invitation to your pity party.

2.) male feminists. just...enough said. stop appropriating my struggle so that you can carve out a career niche for yourself. and then tell me that my interests are boring.

3.) sandra bullock. you shouldn't even have been nominated for an academy award. much less won. i guess white guilt sells big time. well...i'm not buying.

4.) work. generally speaking. is super played out.

that is all. i'll add more things as they occur to me.

i want more than you've got

if you could sum up my life in one phrase, it would be that.

i can never just take the easy way. i have the extraordinary ability to complicate things. for myself. for other people.

i need constant attention. but i only want it from people that don't have it to give. or just won't give it.

i have to make everything more difficult. i've been thinking about this a lot lately. i always want more.

i could have stayed on the east coast. the work might have been not what i wanted to do, but i wouldn't be so alone.

but, no.

i had to move across the country. alone. right now, i'm the only single person i know. and i'm not making this up. or exaggerating. and it's constantly thrown in my face. even in the professional context. the other day we spent a good twenty minutes talking about so-called professional issues. including how to balance your professional life and marriage/children etc. and then someone asked how many people there were in relationships. i was the only one who couldn't put my hand up. so i made a really pointed joke towards the person that said that. and everyone laughed.

but it really wasn't funny.

why should i have to do that?

how bad i felt at that moment wasn't fucking funny. but if i said how i felt alone and sad and i had no one, then i'm the one that looks bad. so i had to laugh. it's just one more instance in my life where i am a complete failure. other people come home and at the end of the day they have someone they can talk to about things. i don't have that. i come home and i'm alone. no one asks me how my day was. no one tells me everything will be ok.

i'm not doing well. at all. i might not make it. my will, which has been so strong for so long, is really giving out. i don't have anything left.

because what is all of this for, anyway?

i just don't see the point. there aren't any answers. and that's the truth. the truth that NO ONE wants to hear. it's all about petty justification. and short term feelings of value.

and at the heart of that is a feeling of extreme envy of people who can convince themselves that there is a reason. for anything.

i'm not looking for a fix. there is no solution. sadness is infinite. i just want someone to care. that i'm sad. that i'm here. or that i'm not.

but that...might be asking too much.

i'm going to lay in the sun now.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

acts of love gone wrong

no. this entry isn't about that. well sort of not...

it is the title of the show we're watching.

my brain is dead. DEAD.

i have written (and rewritten) thirty pages in two days. i coded two hundred pages of congressional hearings on saturday. sort of. at least the first eighty were solid. and i've slept like four hours since saturday. seriously. that might actually be an overestimate.

if you want to know anything about foreign military sales agreements. or the 1994 and 2002 CEDAW ratification hearings in the senate committee on foreign relations. don't be afraid to ask.

eight more pages to write. one statistics exam that i cannot pass.

and then i am free. for a week. or longer if i fail out of school.

must sleep now.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

no matter where i go

there YOU are data. fucking up my day. for real. i want you out of my life. you are making me feel terrible.

and also. to all these bitches that are ordering sugary coffee drinks, but wear a size double 0. you're trifling. you won't be nineteen forever. i hope that shit catches up with you. seriously. because all i want is sugar. and i know what will happen to my body if just start eating my feelings.

but...oh...data....why is it always something with you. ALWAYS. every time i reach a good place, something fucked up happens.


Sunday, March 7, 2010

letting the days go by

reality check.

i don't know anyone who's really, truly happy with their life. not 100%. which i suppose is just another way of saying that it is always, always something.

i want this. i want that. i want too much. i want to be able to do all of my work and not have a nervous breakdown. and also get good grades.

i want my life back. i want a life back. i'm tired of being defined by my academic choices. or rather defined by my lack of ability. i can't do anything right at the moment. and i feel like i'm stagnating. the only motion i feel is the motion of falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of sadness.

life is about trade-off's.

and lately, i feel like what is being traded off is my sense of well being. and that...just isn't ok. i'm totally adrift right now. if i could see the end...if i could just have something i was working towards.... maybe then the sacrifice would seem worth it. but this whole experience has really robbed me of my interests. and now i'm stuck. i also feel like it's robbed me of my options.

i honestly haven't felt this bad about myself since i broke up with my ex-boyfriend three years ago. or, rather, when he broke up with me. work saved me then. i felt like i found something i could do. something to make me happy. but what will save me from work?

because now work is breaking my heart. i cannot even convey how utterly devastating it is to think you finally found something you could do with your life and then to find out that it might not be possible for you. because you're not smart enough. because you're not enough, period. for a long time, people have treated me like i am a total fuck up. and i am. in so many ways. too many ways to count.

the only reason i haven't quit already is because i don't want those people to be right. i want their respect. and i know how people will look at me if i quit. and if i quit this, i will have to admit that i am a fuck up in every single area of my life. relationships. career. everything.

but everyone has limitations. mine might be that i'm simply not strong enough to keep going. this is hurting me. physically. mentally. emotionally.

maybe resistance is futile. and all this struggle is just accelerating my rapid disintegration. i don't want to spend any more of my life in pain. i have had enough. i want to be happy. i want to find something that makes me happy.

and i don't know where to look. i don't know how.

back to work. i hate to sound so hopeless, but this is how i feel right now. and life is just too short to feel this way. i don't want to wake up ten, or even five years from now and think about what i could have been doing that would have made me happier.

i just feel so stuck.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

sensitivity analysis: listen up guys. AGAIN.

123654 and trying to do statistics homework. trying and not doing, because we are having to listen to these two hyper-sensitive guys whine about their emotions and their relationship problems. actually, the one guy is getting blown off by this chick and his overly-sensitive divorced friend is offering some terrible advice.

i find myself in a very precarious position right now regarding gender roles. which, yes, i believe are socially constructed. we should all be in touch with our feelings. this is true. and it is ok to cry if you are sad.


in the case of this guy, i'm thinking that his over-sensitivity is probably spilling into the bedroom. and into every interaction he has with this poor girl.

so 123654 wrote a letter of helpful suggestion to this poor fellow. and i am in agreement. because i am quite the humanitarian, i will share it here. in the hope that it will help some guy. somewhere. you're welcome, in advance.

and it goes a little something like this...

dear whiny bitch,
here's how to get your girlfriend back:

1. stop being a whiny bitch.
2.go fuck your girlfriend HARD.
3.don't talk about how it made you feel.
4.go home.

enough said.

making the hard way sweet and delectable

i better today. like way better. other than barbiturates, muscle relaxers, and opiate based painkillers, you know what works for cramps?


i have been trying so hard not to eat my feelings. but finally i broke down and bought a box of orejas at the mexi-mart last night. i ate one and felt instantly better. although slightly nauseous due to the excessive sugar crust. i was literally crunching sugar. i am trying not to worry about my putting on weight, but i did go to anne taylor the other day and i was absolutely a size 6, borderline 4. the only thing keeping me from actually being a 4 is my bust-hip ratio. which makes me sad...but what are you going to do.

the really sad thing is that it isn't the physical pain that's keeping me from my work. it's just the fact that i don't want to do it. period. i genuinely hate what i do. and it is just pushing me further and further into an inescapable depression. maybe it's just because i have reached the worst part of the quarter. i really hope that's what is going on. because if it isn't, then i am super fucked.

thank you to the three of you that offered sympathetic gestures. i hate to make things sound so terrible all the time. i just feel super defeated by my life right now. in about two weeks, things will be over one way or another. sigh.

but things are looking slightly up today. later, 123654 and i are going to see training day 2...um...i mean training day: new york....um...i mean brooklyn's finest. call it whatever, i think it is going to be a genre masterpiece.

Friday, March 5, 2010

the pain of discipline or the pain of regret?

first. i already wrote this once today. and the something fucked up with google and not only did it not get published, it did not get saved. even though i saved it. repeatedly.


i've been really trying to be better about listening to my body lately. if i feel too tired to keep working, then i go to sleep. even if it only ten o'clock. even though i feel guilty for not working. because my body is on the verge of shutting down. i can feel it.

i've been getting blinding headaches. which has never happened to me in the past. i come home from school and i just have to lay down in a dark room. the light hurts my eyes. i can't eat. i can't read. i can't work. i finally understand how tb feels.

last night by ten or so i just couldn't work anymore. so i went to sleep. thinking about my statistical model that i have been working on. so 3/4 of my brain was sleeping and 1/4 was thinking through the problems associated with every component of this model.

only to wake up two hours later in the most horrific pain. this time cramps. it hurt so bad i started crying. i almost called 123654 to have her take me to the hospital. sometimes living alone is really awful. as usual, when things go wrong, i wish more than ever that i wasn't alone. that there were someone there to make me feel...oh i don't know...not completely alone and in pain.

it was ridiculous. and i have a really high pain tolerance. a pain tolerance i have developed because, well, i am in pain virtually all the time. i personally feel that my emotional pain manifests itself in my bones. and it is very painful. and exhausting. i'm tired like all the time. i don't really like to talk about it, because people don't really understand. they're like 'go to the doctor' and i'm like 'they can't find anything wrong'. and so on. so i think they think i'm just making it up.

that doesn't mean that i don't completely overreact in times of pain. i was looking up causes of severe menstrual cramps online and the following explanations came up....

cervical cancer. endometriosis. fibroids. cysts. and...stress.

personally, i think it is a form of gender based discrimination that i am expected to keep working through this pain. i'm not in such bad pain today, but i am exhausted because i was up half the night. but that's not my fault. in the words of james brown...it ain't right.

one website i looked at suggested that one way to obviate potential negative social implications of this sort of situation was to explain to people around you what is going on. so that they can know how you feel.

yeah. right.

i can only imagine the look on my statistics professor's (or any professor's) face, were i to say the following....

"remember when that one kid had to leave class because of 'family troubles'? well, i'm having uterine troubles. so not only will i NOT be in class, i'm going to need an extension on all my deadlines. because right now, i need rest. i can see that you look confused. let me explain. one a month, when the egg travels down the fallopian tube..."

even if he couldn't directly sanction me, it would forever change the way he perceived me in a negative way. it would be an indication that i can't handle things. the girl who cried cramps. and in a way i even feel this way about myself. every time i get sick or a headache or whatever, i blame myself. and think that it's really just that i'm lazy and don't want to work anymore. like i'm just making an excuse to not do things.

and that's not fair. it isn't my fault.

i think the people that read this are mostly people that know me, so if you are at all inclined to sympathetic gestures towards me....now's the fucking time. even a kind word. would be nice. because right now the pain makes me feel really, really alone. and even if you don't know me, you can feel free to leave a nice comment.

Monday, March 1, 2010

c is for cookie

this bong smoke shop run by persians just opened near my house. i have a thing for persian guys. even the middle aged guy that owns the shop. they're all really good looking and usually really rich and very authoritarian. i enjoy not making decisions. i'm only half joking....

ok.... maybe i don't so much have a thing for this guy, but i am actually quite fond of him. he's not that good looking, but he is awfully rich. apparently, the smoke shop business is a really good business to be in. he has a benz AND a lexus. brand new. but i really think i like him because every time i walk by, if he's working (or whatever) he is all like "hello, beautiful" and kisses me on the cheek. i like being told nice things. then he always asks me about my day and if i'm working hard at school.

today he called me into the shop to chat and eat cookies...'i got these in orange county this morning' he told me. as if that made the cookies more desirable. he had two kinds of cookies one filled with ground up figs that kind of looked a pretzel. the other one was like baklava in a cookie. so we chatted about the economy and ate cookies, while people came in and out of the shop buying blunts and such.

it was really pleasant.
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