drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary


life as it stands here in holidayland

As I was traipsing (okay, riding shotgun in a car full of screaming babies) around San Fran today I noticed a sign on the back of a cable car that said, "Beautiful bodies, Serious service." Needless to say I considered this statement and its implications extensively, not having been able to determine the service being advertised.

I also bought a shirt that says 'Property of Alcatraz Swim Team'. What can I say, I'm a sucker for irony.

Last night I had a dream that my math teacher was my gynecologist (wait, it gets better) and he stuck me with two needles in a very sensitive area (shows you what I think of math, huh?) and proceeded to inform me very seriously that I was single (I guess that confirmed it somehow...it's a dream, go figure). I was like, "Yes, I know. Thank you for reminding me."

I've been trying to calm my inward building violence towards my sisters by reminding myself that I was just the same at their ages. But the truth is- my being a little shit does not make it any easier to deal with current little shits.

Hee hee, I'm turning into a regular bitchy resentful angtsy older sister.

Oh, the smell of Chinatown is one of Chinese food and sandalwood incense. It is lovely.

Thinking of JR makes me happy. This is not good.

Oh, and in answer to your breathless wait for knowledge of my ice-skating welfare, it was quite interesting. No broken bones were had, but I did suffer a bruised ego and lots of pity glances. I hate feeling stupid, and this was a regular stupid-fest. I was holding onto the side like a drowning victim.

Why the fuck do people ice skate, anyway?

7:56 p.m. - 2003-08-06


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