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Entry tags:
Hello-my-name-is-feather-and-I-am-now-a-CSI-addict.
I saved the last season’s transcripts to disk at work last week. They only took two days to read, and I’ve had nothing to read since then due to limited computer access. I have got to get internet back in my house. Hopefully I’ll be able to do this soon, as I have a job interview tomorrow. Environmental activism –yay?- yay or not, it pays about $400 per week with benefits. You want me to stand on the corner in a clown suit and try to sell save the whales t-shirts? Whatever you want, sweetheart.
The hours are weird but that’s fine with me. 2pm-10:30pm Monday to Friday. It’s on Westcott Street, so Dad is freaking out about it being a shit neighborhood, but what else is new? Every time I point out a house I like, Dad goes off the handle ranting about how it’s a “shit neighborhood.” The adjectives never change. He’s all, you can’t be down there at eleven at night, blah blah, woof woof, and it’s like, That’s fine, but what do you expect me to do the rest of my life? I’m not rich enough to stick to only the best areas, thanks. Wouldn’t want to anyway. I like urban areas about fifty thousand times more than anything, well, less than urban. I like hearing rap music from someone else’s stereo, I like hearing sirens at night, and traffic noises and people yelling and talking and laughing. It reminds me of home; in a strange way it’s where I feel the safest. I love trees and all as much as the next elf-wannabe but being all alone with the area empty for miles around (with no one around to hear me scream) really, really creeps me out.
Anyway. Onwards and upwards. Nana is moving from Doylestown to Tom’s River at the end of the month. Both houses are sold and bought. I found this out last night via a phone conversation my mother was having with her old roommate. My mom’s a sweet lady but she’s got this idea fixed in her head that none of us can handle anything, good news or bad, so she doesn’t tell us. Nice of her, and all, but annoying when you have to get all your information secondhand from eavesdropping on phone calls.
“I ain’t been droppin’ no eaves, sir!”
In other news I’ve decided to run for President when I turn 35. I figure if I start campaigning now, I won’t have to squeeze two billion dollars worth of campaign ads into three years. Here is my ingenious plan:
Heather 2020
If I just have that put on stickers and t-shirts and stuff, and distribute it all over the country, in fourteen years everyone will know who I am. Subliminally, anyway. No one will know what it means until I turn 35 in 2018, and I’ll let everyone know then. So remember, people. Heather 2020! Abolish the Electoral College! Term Limits for Everyone, even Supreme Court Justices! Down with the Patriot Act!
Muah ha ha. Am political mastermind. Go me.
Ronald Reagan died.
My dad: “’Bout fucking time, the rotten son of a bitch. I hate that miserable cocksucker.”
My mom: “Oh, was he still alive? Great, we have to sit through this ‘national mourning’ for a whole week. People loved him, but I don’t get why… He was such an ass. No, Heather, I don’t love Grissom! I hate Grissom! Leave me alone.”
My sister: “So? Who cares?”
My mom hates Grissom. This is quite amusing, so I tell her that he’s pining away for her and that she should run away to Vegas almost constantly. Hence the quote.
It’s really muggy out. I’ve got a sinus headache right now, which sucks. I took a couple of aspirin before, but I really don’t want to take anything stronger until I go to bed, since I don’t feel like passing out right now. I wonder if it’s going to be as hot as it was last summer. May was really cool and wet, and rainy all the time, and I thought that was how this summer was going to be until my mom told me that it was just like that last year and how it got hot all of a sudden. Like I would remember that. I can barely remember being hot last year, and that was only because it was hellishly hot on the day that the Power Went Out. (Great Northeast Power Outage, brought to you by the People Who Are Powering Your War!) Ugh.
Have to call Anna. If she hasn’t left for Georgia already. Am slug. Huge, lazy slug.
Also have to call Bill. (See above slug comment.)
Maybe I’ll make ramen.
Speaking of ramen, what the fuck is going on when the ice cream melts in the freezer but the carrots freeze in the crisper????? What is the world coming to?
Wrote to Jeannette.
Talked to Lise.
Made some sort of contact with Johanna (phone tag- I’ll call her back later this week.)
Called work.
Called job-maybe-place.
Saw Kate.
Read vampire book.
Erm…that’s it? I think?
-_- Probably not. I’ll probably forget something terribly important and get it loads of trouble. *goes to comfort self with CSI fanfic*
The hours are weird but that’s fine with me. 2pm-10:30pm Monday to Friday. It’s on Westcott Street, so Dad is freaking out about it being a shit neighborhood, but what else is new? Every time I point out a house I like, Dad goes off the handle ranting about how it’s a “shit neighborhood.” The adjectives never change. He’s all, you can’t be down there at eleven at night, blah blah, woof woof, and it’s like, That’s fine, but what do you expect me to do the rest of my life? I’m not rich enough to stick to only the best areas, thanks. Wouldn’t want to anyway. I like urban areas about fifty thousand times more than anything, well, less than urban. I like hearing rap music from someone else’s stereo, I like hearing sirens at night, and traffic noises and people yelling and talking and laughing. It reminds me of home; in a strange way it’s where I feel the safest. I love trees and all as much as the next elf-wannabe but being all alone with the area empty for miles around (with no one around to hear me scream) really, really creeps me out.
Anyway. Onwards and upwards. Nana is moving from Doylestown to Tom’s River at the end of the month. Both houses are sold and bought. I found this out last night via a phone conversation my mother was having with her old roommate. My mom’s a sweet lady but she’s got this idea fixed in her head that none of us can handle anything, good news or bad, so she doesn’t tell us. Nice of her, and all, but annoying when you have to get all your information secondhand from eavesdropping on phone calls.
“I ain’t been droppin’ no eaves, sir!”
In other news I’ve decided to run for President when I turn 35. I figure if I start campaigning now, I won’t have to squeeze two billion dollars worth of campaign ads into three years. Here is my ingenious plan:
Heather 2020
If I just have that put on stickers and t-shirts and stuff, and distribute it all over the country, in fourteen years everyone will know who I am. Subliminally, anyway. No one will know what it means until I turn 35 in 2018, and I’ll let everyone know then. So remember, people. Heather 2020! Abolish the Electoral College! Term Limits for Everyone, even Supreme Court Justices! Down with the Patriot Act!
Muah ha ha. Am political mastermind. Go me.
Ronald Reagan died.
My dad: “’Bout fucking time, the rotten son of a bitch. I hate that miserable cocksucker.”
My mom: “Oh, was he still alive? Great, we have to sit through this ‘national mourning’ for a whole week. People loved him, but I don’t get why… He was such an ass. No, Heather, I don’t love Grissom! I hate Grissom! Leave me alone.”
My sister: “So? Who cares?”
My mom hates Grissom. This is quite amusing, so I tell her that he’s pining away for her and that she should run away to Vegas almost constantly. Hence the quote.
It’s really muggy out. I’ve got a sinus headache right now, which sucks. I took a couple of aspirin before, but I really don’t want to take anything stronger until I go to bed, since I don’t feel like passing out right now. I wonder if it’s going to be as hot as it was last summer. May was really cool and wet, and rainy all the time, and I thought that was how this summer was going to be until my mom told me that it was just like that last year and how it got hot all of a sudden. Like I would remember that. I can barely remember being hot last year, and that was only because it was hellishly hot on the day that the Power Went Out. (Great Northeast Power Outage, brought to you by the People Who Are Powering Your War!) Ugh.
Have to call Anna. If she hasn’t left for Georgia already. Am slug. Huge, lazy slug.
Also have to call Bill. (See above slug comment.)
Maybe I’ll make ramen.
Speaking of ramen, what the fuck is going on when the ice cream melts in the freezer but the carrots freeze in the crisper????? What is the world coming to?
Wrote to Jeannette.
Talked to Lise.
Made some sort of contact with Johanna (phone tag- I’ll call her back later this week.)
Called work.
Called job-maybe-place.
Saw Kate.
Read vampire book.
Erm…that’s it? I think?
-_- Probably not. I’ll probably forget something terribly important and get it loads of trouble. *goes to comfort self with CSI fanfic*