WHAT'S MY F***IN' NAME??
Ethnicity. A European Medley!
Location Radomyshl, Ukraine
School. Seattle Pacific Univ
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Get Caught Up
A Tweeting Twitter Twit, I am.
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You Can Dance If You Want To
or im me
Friday. 10.10.08 4:36 pm
I am a morning person.
Not that I leap out of bed at the sound of my alarm, but once I've had a few minutes to wake up, I'm usually at my happiest and best from about 7am to noon.
With my new job, however, I've been working a lot of evening shifts ending around 11pm/midnight. You do the math. I'm not waking up at 7 anymore.
The paradigm shift is quite strange. For one thing, I don't see as much roadkill. I see pre-roadkill. Like, real live opossums and raccoons. Lots and lots of raccoons. Those guys move slow, even when I'm sure they can see me. No wonder they're always getting run down.
There's a pleasant thought to round out your afternoon (which is my new mid-morning).
Dear Dog Owners
Monday. 9.29.08 8:08 pm
Specifically those living in west Federal Way, south of Dash Point Road.
I am getting really sick and tired of your canines barking their heads off and attacking the fence like homicidal maniacs whenever I go for a walk.
Please, please, please excercise your "best friend." Putting him/her outside is not good enough. What would you do if someone locked you in a yard all day? The only freakin' place they do that is prison.
Look, I know you are busy. You work 40+ hours a week. You have kids. You have to clean the bathroom/balance your checkbook/curl your eyelashes. But you got a dog anyway. Whatever, I'm not questioning your logic, just your character. Give the bored tween accross the street five bucks some afternoon and I bet he'll do it for you. Maybe he won't go smoke that day. Better yet, give an even younger kid five bucks a week and I bet she'll do it every day. Maybe she won't become obese.
Damn it, leave a leash and a sticky note (and maybe a cookie) on top of the mailbox and I'll do it when I go out with my dog.
And at least, if you're going to let your dog be a bored barker, please don't stick your head out of the window and yell "STFU Cinders!" because then I know you're sitting on your ass.
Monday. 9.22.08 12:11 am
Just wanted to break my silence... I've been quite busy, fortunately/unfortunately.
In my mid-youth psychopathy, I have given notice at my office job, and taken up retail...
I am so full of drama
Thursday. 8.28.08 1:55 am
It's just not funny anymore.
Today we both cried. Now, I am an infamous cry-baby, but I usually reserve crying for frustration... and dog movies...
This time, I was actually crying out of sadness. I think. Again, I was trying to make light of our immanent separation (which honestly does not bother me very much) with the whole, "well, it's not like we were going to get married..." line.
Again, wrong. I just need to quit while I'm behind.
We knew from the beginning that we would never get married. I don't even want to tie the knot for another five or so years. However, when we started talking about how much we were not getting married, I suddenly realized-- "Holy shit! He doesn't want to marry me!"
Just because I don't want to get married doesn't mean I don't want him to want to marry me. It's dumb, I know. I am a classic romantic comedy type psycho (but at least I'm aware of it). I started crying at this point, which made him start crying. In semi-public.
Then he said that when we finally broke up for real, he would delete his Facebook account.
"Why would you do that?" I asked, "I wouldn't be able to keep in contact with you. How would we stay friends??"
"I don't want to have to look at your pictures," He laughed, "I could never be your friend if I couldn't still kiss you... It must be as though we had never met."
What the hell? This guy doesn't want to marry me or be my BFF?? That's when I really started crying. I can't handle this bullshit.
Oh yeah, AND I told my office boss I'm quitting today. That was fun too e.e;;
I made him cry.
Wednesday. 8.27.08 12:10 am
It's about 85% sure that my fella will be moving to Vancouver, BC at the beginning of next year. I've known about this possibility since he first interviewed with Microsoft during Winter quarter, but I was sure they would be able to get all the visa hassles figured out for him to work in Redmond.
I know he's excited for the change, and Vancouver is less than three hours from where I live. Besides, he'll only be gone for a year. I'll miss him, but this move is really a good thing. For both of us.
Leaving me bothers him though. I can tell, because he never stops talking about it. Promising me he'll visit. Asking me to help decorate his new apartment.
And today, after we had had lunch together, he started crying. I couldn't even believe it. At first he turned away so I couldn't see, but in moments, he was actually crying on me. He had started crying because, in a failed attempt to make him feel better, I told him about my Peace Corps plans.
As sorry as I feel, I'm actually pretty mad at him. It's such a double standard that he can choose to take a job that he knew might force him to leave, but wants me to stick around and wait. I'm also mad because I know he'd never try to stop me. All he would have to do is ask. I might be stupid enough to obey.
To Billy Corgan
Sunday. 8.24.08 4:01 am
Dear Mr. Corgan,
I love you very much. I mean you might have to pay me to sleep with you, but really, I adore you—your music, your quirkiness, everything. And Smashing Pumpkins? Yay!!
However, I was concerned last night when I heard what appeared to be your voice singing “Landslide” on the radio. I don’t really know what to say. I mean, I know you and the Pumpkins like to experiment… and your version of the Bee Gees’ “To Love Somebody”? Awesome. Your version of “Landslide,” on the other hand, left me pining for Fleetwood Mac.
Billy, I don’t even like Fleetwood Mac.
Your “unique” voice just does not capture the poignancy of this classic. Please cease to perform this song, and do make every attempt to destroy recorded copies that may exist. It’s embarrassing.
Now don’t feel singled out. I plan to write to the Dixie Chicks too.
Love and respect,
A concerned fan
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