this is the long way down
Jun. 8th, 2006 10:40 amlover I am loveless
It's so rude of this song to have that hook of singing parts of lines and being pretty much awesome, but so much screaming that my normal headachey self flinches as I debate the merits of cranking it anyway.
[we tempt fate and crank it, love.]
Know what's fun? Finding a really good book in the quarter bin. And by really good, I mean a book you haven't read before, so you get a good read you honestly weren't expecting for a quarter. Even better when someone else buys you that quarterbinbook.
Yeah, the English language is probably fining me terribly as we speak. My masterful skill in the art of butchering the language aside, The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing is really good. So good I should have finished yesterday, but wanted to prolong the happy making glee. I've no idea why it was so cheap, but I'm glad it was. Otherwise I might not have picked it up.
I've been having an odd day. I didn't ring that many people up, but when I did, their totals inevitiably ended up being things like $39.93 or $83.83. Which is fun the first few times, sort of like when someone manages to buy the right combination of junk that, when tax is added, makes the total an even dollar amount... but it's kind of odd when you ring up 20 customers and 14 of them have totals like that.
How many times did I just say total? Meh.
Yesterday the muse came a-knocking. And by knocking, I mean it was a bit like being haunted by a little kid weilding a sledgehammer. Messy. ( so please don't wake me til someone cares... )
*hum* My tongue hurts. I bit it when falling asleep yesterday, which is never fun.
Woo, I've got the Father's Day want list. *dance* Well, technically this year I can skimp since he got that fridge-a-roo for the anniversary and I skimped a smidge on Mumsy's.
Still, my tongue hurts.
Sunshine has a job. Sunshine is not at his job because someone had a little trouble with the heat yesterday. So he came home and isn't working today.
I think I lost all sense of whever I was going with this. I'm not sure I had any real plans on anything to yammer on about though, so I guess it's no loss.
Today's random thought: When I was in middle school, there was a month I could not go anywhere without anyone I vaguely knew in my grade stopping me and asking if I a) had a twin or b) if I had a sister, if the twin thing didn't pan out. Considering how unpopular I was in middle school, my usual response was something along the lines of a blank stare. Eventually I figured the mystery out, as no one would ever come out and explain what the hell they were going on about other than saying there was some girl they kept seeing who looked an awful lot like me. Gee, you think? I got that from the twin comments. :p Annnnnyway, Figured out who they were talking about, never did find out if she got the same treatment. Turns out I'd known her when we were younger. The joys of being one of the few Catholic children in Sunday school and other fun things, eh? Yes.
The point is, sometimes I remember this when hearing about her or talking to her and realizing that for all the things we have in common, we react to them in totally different ways. Like if we both love something, it's not the same kind of love. She's somehow infinitely more giddy and more depressing about the same thing than I will ever be. It's hard to explain, although a few minutes ago I had it all sorted out. For instance, I may fangirl like mad over things, and I imagine I sound quite ditzy at times, but if you found her LJ or myspace account, she'd seem younger than I am, despite being older than I am. Atleast I think so, anyway. Which isn't to say I'm somehow better. It's just weird to have someone, even peripherally in your life, who likes so many things you do, but to go about it so differently.
While tripping down the myspace [evil!] I realized for the nine millionth time that I'm pretty far removed from my closest friends. How much does that suck? Indeed, it does. One of them is having this 'favorite memory' thing, and I've got none of these memories. Which in some cases, fine. In others, it's like I somehow missed every party ever thrown. And we don't throw big parties, people.
Still. I'm really not sure having your loathed boytoy bragging about handjobs given in public on something your grandmother/mother/sister could and probably have read is the best way to get your family to embrace him. *retches in the corner*
Nothing like the vaguely-stalkerish trip down LJ/hell to remind you that for all you have in common with people, you're still themiserable loner in the corner, staring at the wall, imagining what it would say if it could speak. Though as I get older, I think that the miserable part is up for debate.
So, who wants free music? No one? Kay, we'll debate the free aspect. How about this: Who wants to get me to shut up about this album? You? You in the back? Good!
The Missing Frame
Love Like Winter
Prelude 12/21
Naturally, if you like, buy. But since I really can't imagine too many being influenced by any musical choices I have, thus endeth the disclaimer.
Fluffy news: There's this guy, whose name I never can recall, although I've only heard it once, who comes in a couple of times a week to buy cigs. I know which ones they are, and the only question really is how many packs he'll want. Anyway, when he's really, really drunk, he leaves me a tip.
Aren't you glad you know?
It's so rude of this song to have that hook of singing parts of lines and being pretty much awesome, but so much screaming that my normal headachey self flinches as I debate the merits of cranking it anyway.
[we tempt fate and crank it, love.]
Know what's fun? Finding a really good book in the quarter bin. And by really good, I mean a book you haven't read before, so you get a good read you honestly weren't expecting for a quarter. Even better when someone else buys you that quarterbinbook.
Yeah, the English language is probably fining me terribly as we speak. My masterful skill in the art of butchering the language aside, The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing is really good. So good I should have finished yesterday, but wanted to prolong the happy making glee. I've no idea why it was so cheap, but I'm glad it was. Otherwise I might not have picked it up.
I've been having an odd day. I didn't ring that many people up, but when I did, their totals inevitiably ended up being things like $39.93 or $83.83. Which is fun the first few times, sort of like when someone manages to buy the right combination of junk that, when tax is added, makes the total an even dollar amount... but it's kind of odd when you ring up 20 customers and 14 of them have totals like that.
How many times did I just say total? Meh.
Yesterday the muse came a-knocking. And by knocking, I mean it was a bit like being haunted by a little kid weilding a sledgehammer. Messy. ( so please don't wake me til someone cares... )
*hum* My tongue hurts. I bit it when falling asleep yesterday, which is never fun.
Woo, I've got the Father's Day want list. *dance* Well, technically this year I can skimp since he got that fridge-a-roo for the anniversary and I skimped a smidge on Mumsy's.
Still, my tongue hurts.
Sunshine has a job. Sunshine is not at his job because someone had a little trouble with the heat yesterday. So he came home and isn't working today.
I think I lost all sense of whever I was going with this. I'm not sure I had any real plans on anything to yammer on about though, so I guess it's no loss.
Today's random thought: When I was in middle school, there was a month I could not go anywhere without anyone I vaguely knew in my grade stopping me and asking if I a) had a twin or b) if I had a sister, if the twin thing didn't pan out. Considering how unpopular I was in middle school, my usual response was something along the lines of a blank stare. Eventually I figured the mystery out, as no one would ever come out and explain what the hell they were going on about other than saying there was some girl they kept seeing who looked an awful lot like me. Gee, you think? I got that from the twin comments. :p Annnnnyway, Figured out who they were talking about, never did find out if she got the same treatment. Turns out I'd known her when we were younger. The joys of being one of the few Catholic children in Sunday school and other fun things, eh? Yes.
The point is, sometimes I remember this when hearing about her or talking to her and realizing that for all the things we have in common, we react to them in totally different ways. Like if we both love something, it's not the same kind of love. She's somehow infinitely more giddy and more depressing about the same thing than I will ever be. It's hard to explain, although a few minutes ago I had it all sorted out. For instance, I may fangirl like mad over things, and I imagine I sound quite ditzy at times, but if you found her LJ or myspace account, she'd seem younger than I am, despite being older than I am. Atleast I think so, anyway. Which isn't to say I'm somehow better. It's just weird to have someone, even peripherally in your life, who likes so many things you do, but to go about it so differently.
While tripping down the myspace [evil!] I realized for the nine millionth time that I'm pretty far removed from my closest friends. How much does that suck? Indeed, it does. One of them is having this 'favorite memory' thing, and I've got none of these memories. Which in some cases, fine. In others, it's like I somehow missed every party ever thrown. And we don't throw big parties, people.
Still. I'm really not sure having your loathed boytoy bragging about handjobs given in public on something your grandmother/mother/sister could and probably have read is the best way to get your family to embrace him. *retches in the corner*
Nothing like the vaguely-stalkerish trip down LJ/hell to remind you that for all you have in common with people, you're still the
So, who wants free music? No one? Kay, we'll debate the free aspect. How about this: Who wants to get me to shut up about this album? You? You in the back? Good!
The Missing Frame
Love Like Winter
Prelude 12/21
Naturally, if you like, buy. But since I really can't imagine too many being influenced by any musical choices I have, thus endeth the disclaimer.
Fluffy news: There's this guy, whose name I never can recall, although I've only heard it once, who comes in a couple of times a week to buy cigs. I know which ones they are, and the only question really is how many packs he'll want. Anyway, when he's really, really drunk, he leaves me a tip.
Aren't you glad you know?