|[ 0_o ] New [ @[email protected] ] Old [ 6_6 ] Profile [ 0_~ ] About Me [ >_< ] Surveys [ @[email protected] ] My fans [ 0_~ ] Chat Dland [ 6_6 ] Diaryrings [ =_= ] E-Mail [ @_o ] Notes [ o_0 ] Recommend [ [email protected] ] Host [ #[email protected] ] Design|
Feeling: Calm. Loving my life. |
Eating: Um... life?
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
Get reviewed by DiaryReviews!
Today is: 2003-06-11 - @ 9:53 p.m.
Yearbook entries and ballons! all time - is relative
I really don'twant this to be another depressibng entrry. (yells at self) "STOP BEING DEPRESSED-LIKE! YOU KNOW YOU'RE KNOT REALLY DEPRESSED!" Ok. I guess that helped.
The other day I was closing at wrok, and as it was Sunday, when we have the sunday champange brunch (Ooh, imagine that! A Sunday brunch on Sunday!) there was plenty of half-deflated ballons, but a couple good ones. So a rescued one of the bouncier ones and tied to too my regulation ponytailm,, giving me a small blue sphereical floating shadow. Until my manager came up behind me and grabbed a pen and viciously stabbed it to death while laughing manically. So I grabbbed a yellow one, reattched it, and drew a smiley face that said, "I like pie!" Once again, the hunt was on. I was chased by my 5'5, 180 pound manager, armed with a very sharp ball point pen. I, however, evaded her and hid the ballon. She went on a rampage, searchign throughout the entire resturant, even going so far as to pick up our intercom system and say, "Attention K-mart shoppers, we have a missing ballon, yellow, round, answers to the name I Like Pie. If you have seen him, please report it to the management. Thank you!" Upon which I took the rest of the ballons, covered them in scary faces, including a few that said, "I loooove Laura!" (Laura is my managers name) and stuck them in her office. I believe the soundtrack of her entering her office went something like this: "AHG! Get them!" *POP*POP*POP*POP*POP*POP*POP*POP*
One more day of school left!!! Whoo-Hoo!!!!
I need either stop crying at school, or stop weaing mascara.
Quote for the Entry: (scrawled on the inside of my yearbook) "This is to the woman I love most. And if you haven't guessed yet that would be you. :) I really don't know what to say. I love you is always good, but you already know that. I suppose I could try for something well thought-out, but then I would just be feeding you lines. I would prefer to be open and honest with you.
I love you. Once I am gone, I hope that you can simply forget me, so that i can know you felt mo pain, because no matter what happens, I cannot bear the thought of hurting you. Even in writing this I see the flaw of good intentions. I am sorry. Don't ever let your smile go, because it will always be in my mind, it is the falme in my soul that keeps me going. DOn't ever lose that smile, it fits you.
Keep laughing for me, because a frown is a loss to me. I love you always and forever.
p.s. I'm smiling for you.
all time - is relative