I can't fucking unstand myself
11-28-05 | 16:47

I should be working as I actually have a project, but I feel like a wet cat today and I've eaten too many goldfish pret-zels.
Summing up my holiday weekend makes me upset. It makes me upset because of my very strong emotions concern-ing my family. My Therapist is very interested about my family and the relationship and dynamics, and as a result of talking, talking and talking about my family this weekend was emotional for me. For one thing, on the plane on the way to Chicago I became emotional thinking about my brother and how much I love him. I feel that if he would express just one tenth of the amount of love he lavishes on his wife on me I would be the happiest sister in all the land. It may seem that I am a selfish bitch, but the situation is more involved, I long to have a relationship with my brother. I want him to see that I am a person and not just his little sister. I want him to reach out to me and be con-cerned and interested in my life and what I do. I want to (try) to be friends. To this end, at my therapists suggestion my brother and I have a phone conversation every Sunday, just ten minutes or so - just to chat, and it makes me feel good. The fact that he is far away and married and expecting a baby adds to the separation from his (real) family, but his utter lack of interest and concern kind of fuel the separation more than the actual life events. Furthermore, as I am the youngest and not married I am left with carrying along my parents and I see more about my fathers depres-sion and my mothers issues with drinking and eating than he has ever seen.
Basically my brother has assimilated the life of his wife. Her family, her religion, her plainness. With that I believe he is a bit ashamed with our family. Sister-in-law's family is so boring and typical that I believe he finds safety in it. With my brothers dismissal of our family I am left to pick up the pieces. When my mother gets drunk and sad, or when my father is mad at her for no reason and refuses to talk to her (or me) for weeks on end - I deal with it. My brother sees none of it. None.
That is why when I vented to my brother about my mother getting drunk and vomiting on Thanksgiving my only response was a slight eyebrow raise a: "Really?”. I later realized that my mother getting sick was NOT a result of her sad drunkenness, it really just utter exhaustion, dehydration and the consumption of sister-in-laws food. The best part was when my poor mother was practically nodding off at the dinner table and brother ignored our mother and continued his self-concerned existence.
Thank the lords for PB - that is all I can say. He was the only thing this weekend that kept me going. He held my hand when my mother was busy getting sick, he whispered sweet things to me whenever I was getting upset, he was so supportive.
The Thanksgiving food was terrible at best, which is probably why my mother threw it up. The sister-in-law make bland mid-western food with no flavor. Everything is so boring and tasteless. I do not get along with sister-in-law's family. I do not like them and think they are boring, judgmental, bland people, just as bland as the food they eat. Green-bean casserole was actually on the table. It was made with Swiss cheese, green beans, sour cream and corn flakes. Yes dear reader(s), Corn Flakes. Can we say gross mid-western Fifties food?
The hotel was nice, but I get homesick so easily that the next night, together in my tiny double bed PB and I cuddled and slept close the whole night.
Esther did not come over on Saturday and as a result my bloody nails are literarily breaking. Why the fuck did she not come over? Jesus. My god-dam nail just broke very deep in my nail bed. My other nail broke this morning and now I am having a meltdown. I just want to go the fuck home and forget about everything.
I went to the gym (CLAY) yesterday and I do love it, but I feel so fucking terrible and awful that I can't even go on writing. I wish I were not so fucking immature and pathetic. I wish I wasn't so sensitive and I wish I were happy.
What the fuck is wrong with me?

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11-23-05 | 21:24

Today I accomplished everything I set out to do. I am proud of myself.
I went to Pilates and I actually did well, last week I felt crappy and I did a poor job. Then I went to SunPoint, and the got my eyebrows threaded, then I was off to Angel Feet for a massage. Angel Feet is a wonderful place. As soon as I came in I was seated in the relaxing oversize lounge chair, and given a glass of water. I took my boots and socks off and rolled my jeans up to my knees. My feet were then placed on the foot bench in front of me and I was given a flaxseed neck rest and put my head back. Then the masseuse came over and wrapped my feet in a hot towel, and then she placed my feet in a hot soaking tub that miraculously appeared beneath me. She then washed my feet and dried them. Then the massage started, Oh lord in heaven it was fantastic. I dozed off for a few minutes but when I came to – it was still just as lovely. I am going back before Christmas because that is the best massage place ever. It is so quaint and close by, right on Perry.
Then I went to Therapy. I spoke about my dope issues and how the onus is on me to provide my parents with a good Christmas. My brother and his wife skipped Christmas last year, forcing me to spend the holidays with my folks. Last year I informed my patents that is PB and I are still together I’d like to do something with him for Christmas. Well that is just not going to happen. Because my brother and his wife are skipping Christmas with us again this year, I am upset with them about this. They are going to see her family, and they ALWAYS see her family. Her fucking sister goes to the same school she does (she being my brother’s wife), and they see her family like every two months. The two of them never come to visit us. And as a result of their absence I am forced to spend Christmas with my parents and only them. This is what caused me to be sad because my mother is just going to drown her sorrows in about three bottles of wine and my father will just smother his sorrows in food. I must keep repeating to myself: PB, PB, PB will be with me for this - he is my rock and will make this terrible season bearable.
I feel awful about that first sentence, whoo hoo I did all I needed to do – I had my Pilates and then a tan and a threading and then a massage, I am pathetic.
I am also tired and must wake up at six o’clock tomorrow morning because of flying.
Happy Thanksgiving all my lovelies!

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I'm a Joiner
11-22-05 | 19:18

I just joined a gym!
How obsessive am I? I guess one could put this in a positive light and state that I know what I want and I set out to get it.
the lady who owns my apartment referred me, she told me it was the best gym and that the environment is such that she actually goes. I plan to go three times a week, Tuesday evenings, Thursday evenings and Sundays. I need to do cardio in addition to my Pilates. The sign up membership fee includes five personal training sessions.
So I am going to Chicago soon. I am only slightly stressed, the airport and travel is mostly what is bothering me. I have never traveled for the holidays, never, not one single holiday have I gone farther than Brooklyn. I hate to travel. I never do it in class and traveling with your parents is the pits. My mother is starting to drive me crazy.
I am feeling totally like being bummy tonight and just watching the television, so I am going to do just that. I apologize for the equally bummy entry, but I think my tiredness just hit me, that and I am lazy and do not feel like delving into my issues.
I think I just wanted to update for the sake of
OK, so I cam back. I realized that I cannot just plop down a stupid entry like that because I may find myself writing crap entries like the above all the time.
I am now watching Law & order SVU. Man I love Law & Order, only the original and SVU. The sad thing is that last winter it was so cold that PB and I spent its entirety watching SVU so that now we have seen every episode that is not new. It has gotten to the point where we can recognize an episode within one scene. We are SAD.
Man, I haven’t even removed my makeup yet.
Work today was so productive. I was actually given work and I complete all of my projects. I love that feeling. Lately I have been having nightmares about work, probably because I haven’t been doing any – but today (!) I felt so good. I really love my job, even all the tedious boring paperwork; once I receive a project and understand it I am so proud when I complete it. Yesterday my lovely boss brought me my very own pink nail file, complete with a wee little carrying case. I always come into her office to borrow her nail file, so she bought me my very own! She is so kind and thoughtful.
Something I am actually fearful about is the holidays and my past dope doin’. I have no way whatsoever of getting in touch with the chick that gave me my stuff as I do not have her phone number and last name, but I hailed a taxi yesterday morning and heard Christmas music and I just thought about the sad state my family is in I just started to crave. I thought about PB and how he makes me feel better, and his company and strength will help me get through the holidays.
OK, B.D. Wong is now on SVU, so I’m going to watch it.

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11-21-05 | 21:19

OK, just a quick one before I pop off into bed.
I need to do more cardio work. Some people use a treadmill, others that elliptical thingy and others run.
I would like some advice on how to start doing any of the above. How long is good for a workout? At what resistance? How fast?
The trouble is that I have a heart condition, and as a result of that I have never pushed myself to do cardio. As it is I do a pussy-mild cardio three times a week for twenty minutes if that, but I want more.
So there it is, I plan to join a gym (again) and to go, but I just need some tips on how to start and exercise correctly.

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Gimme a day
11-21-05 | 14:31

Food wise, I'd rather not discuss since that was the main issue keeping me away from my diary all weekend.
I feel like such a gross fuck.
Otherwise PB and I had a lovely weekend. As we are both sociopaths, we stayed inside our universe (apartment) all weekend and had the best most relaxing time. On Saturday morning Esther came by and did my nails, and then I went for a hair trim with Clara. My hair no longer looks overgrown and heavy, it looks fun and springy with just the right amount of layers. I am very happy about it. I foolishly asked PB out to dinner tonight knowing that A. I cannot let myself eat and B. money? I must do Pilates today, and I am stressing about: A.school, B. Thanksgiving, C. My diary and new layout and C. the fact that I am dicking around at work.
So if I am absent until Wednesday I have my (fat) reasons.
I love how amazingly immature I still am about my stupid issues.

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11-18-05 | 13:19

Last night was swell. The welcome reception was held in a museum across the street from the office and it was decorated very well. the museum itself is sparse, narrow but many floors and the reception was held on the first and second story. The museum was not modern and all sparse and angular, it was very warm and inviting even though the walls and floors were granite. There were a few little tables with burgundy table clothes that fell to the floor and black chairs with matching burgundy cushions. There were also a few higher tables with the same dark table cloth for people who'd like to stand and put their drink down. The tables were adorned with votive candles and little clear marble things. There was also music, nothing too obstructive just some jazz (not light jazz!).The event was staffed really well, with docents walking around to give personal tours, and the staff was very kind to us, giving me and my co-worker water and offering us drinks as we greeted people.
For the first forty-five minutes the other recruiting assistant and I stood by the front table and laid out the name tags and greeted people and directed them to coat check, merrily drinking our ice water we were right by the front door and we were freezing. (New York has had a twenty degree temperature drop in twenty four hours!) After a bit of time and after the place filled up our boss came by and informed us that we can dessert our post and start enjoying ourselves. The reception was a sea of men in suits. I mean I know women are sparse in our work place but I was blinded by the color gray. My co-worker and I tried to infiltrate the associates but to no avail. The line drawn be-tween staff and attorney is drawn very thick. The food was lovely however. There was smoked salmon with crème fraiche and caviar on buckwheat waffles, there was a lobster roll, a prosciutto waffle with roasted fig and stilton, wild mushroom (porcini, morel and cremini) and pinenut strudels, that was wrapped and baked in a buttered phyllo pastry, and my favorite - white truffle stuffed risotto puffs, dressed with parmesan. There were also sweets - fresh berry tartlets, lemon squares, mini brownies, and small cookies and I had none of it. So that was good I guess. There were also two sushi chefs making California, avocado, spicy tuna and cucumber rolls as well as ahi tuna, shrimp, eel, eel and avocado, yellowtail scallion sushi and sashimi. There was much more food but I didn't eat it. In fact I only had two glasses of wine, two truffle puffs, one phyllo pastry thingy, and a cucumber roll.
I only got to converse directly with one associate, then I chatted with another co-worker in my group. And then the time flew. Before I knew it desserts were being passed around and within the hour everyone left. My co-workers and I went back to the office to pick up our effects, another reason why I enjoyed the event was because I didn't have to lug my handbag about with me all evening. As I walk into the building I see my car waiting for me, I know on the drivers window and tell him that I will be back in two minutes. Well when I returned there was no car, I caught a glimpse of him pulling away. I was furious. I called the dispatcher and was told that there will be another car in one to two minutes. Yeah right, there never is - I never accept that as an answer I make the dispatcher call the driver and find out his exact location, that is the only way to gauge the time. Anyway I told the dispatcher that I could not wait and went round to the other side of the building where there are always cars waiting there anyway. I just happen to dislike that particular car company because they are unprofessional, but what's a girl to do?
Then it happened. I was still hungry and I resigned myself to ordering nachos when I came home. I like Burritoville, veggie nachos with broccoli, jack and cheddar cheese, red beans and tofu sour cream. Mmmm. So, I was in a foul mood because of the car incident (I bruise easily, I'm spoiled). I arrive home to PB fresh faced from fencing and happy about his dinner. He went to Whole Foods and bought French bread, herbed goat cheese and a roast chicken He had a proletariat feast! Things are well, and I am telling him about the evening and I stop to order nachos. After I get off the phone with the order guy, PB informs me that the order people are going to spit in my food because I was rude to the order guy. This of course pisses me off. "Don't say such things!" I say to him as I find myself tearing off a rather large piece of bread and smearing it with delicious herbed goat cheese. Then he freely reminds me that I have food on the way. I look at him defensibly and say "I know!". My nachos arrive. We sit at the kitchen table, him with his meal, me with mine. "These nachos are reeealy spicy" I comment. I believe they were spicy because I hadn't had any water, and I am usually drinking water practically every second. Then he tells me that it was done on purpose and that my food was most definitely spit on. I am so fucking mad at him at this point that I just throw the entire fifteen dollar dish into the trash and walk away from him. After some mindless tele-vision watching and a shower I was ravenous. So while PB was in the shower I did a number on what was left of his roast chicken. I was happily standing in front of the kitchen counter in my towel eating with my hands when he commented again! "Why don't you make a plate and sit down and have a normal mean?" I just snarled at him and told him that I am perfectly fine.
I truly think his fucking comments prompted me to act as I did. The boy know I've got issues yet he sticks his nose in them. And when we are being fat together, him with ice cream and me with God knows what I don't hear anything - no comments - other than the ones along the lines of - "it is OK to do this once in a while" - but last night? The boy was rife with commentary about my habits. I think an 'issue' would only be acknowledged if I was too thin or very overweight. But if I am this curvaceous body that he enjoys pinching then I ought not to eat nachos or chicken with my hands. I don’t know how to explain to him my issues, my desire to consume something, and my desire no to. I just wrote that sentence and I feel it is wrong. There is never a desire to consume. There is a want to eat white truffle pasta, but there is never desire to consume nachos, I don’t let myself think about it – it seems like a need to fulfill rather than a want. Of course I didn't sleep well either, stuffed to the brim with cheese and bread and chicken, and oh yes I haven't eaten chicken in eight months, I was tossing and turning. Of course the radiator clanking at 5:12 this morning didn't help me sleep as my side of the bed is less then a foot away from the radiator. I am still so mad at PB. was he turned off by my gross cave man likeness? I know in actuality he was trying to do what is best for me - he always does - he thought I'd be more comfortable sitting down rather than standing and picking at my chicken, but his methods do not work. He has good intention , but bad delivery. Then what was up with his nacho comment?
Anyway, aside from being bloody tired I don't look half bad today. I am wearing my wide lagged low hipped black Theory slacks, a beige knitted v-neck sweater from Joseph, and taupe d'Orsay Manolo's with a little bow in the front.
I cannot wait to get my hair trimmed tomorrow, and this weekend I am taking it so easy. Esther is coming over (fi-nally) tomorrow morning to do my nails, and later today I want to make an appointment at a Angel Feet for Wednesday - to prepare me for the stress that will be Thanksgiving and flying with my parents and PB - in coach. Oh, by the way - I am going to be in Chicago for twenty three hours on Thanksgiving, and I hope you - vla have some sug-gestions of lounges that would be open on Thanksgiving night so that PB and I can prowl the cold streets.
OK I haven't even opened the mail and I must start some work.

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Not in the mood
11-17-05 | 16:09

This entry will also be coming to you in installments as I am at work and get busy at times and have to stop.
So I am going to a cocktail party honoring the new associates this evening. I couldn't feel less 'cocktail' ready. I need trim, I have split ends and my layers have all but grown out and my hair is no longer slightly sophisticated yet choppy and funky - it is just flat on my head. My nails haven't been manicured in two weeks and they are icky. I mean I have petite feminine articulate hands and fingers, but I don't feel well enough to go out this evening, espe-cially to a work function! As I'll be out late tonight I also cannot do my Pilates, and that really bothers me. I was off my game yesterday morning during my training session. I think it is due to the lack of good sleep and the cigarettes because when I was doing my cardio in the morning I couldn't do the most intense part and this is like cardio for losers it is only twenty minutes and so bloody mild a smoker should be able to do it with ease, but then why was if so difficult for me? I think because I haven't been smoking and in one night - three cigarettes, a bottle of wine and staying up late. I suppose my heart condition factors in here because even when I was smoking regularly I could not do the things my other smoking' friends did, but then I did do massive amounts of illegal substances, but who knows. So the point of this entire diatribe is that I am upset about not doing Pilates tonight because I am not yet at the point where I feel I can miss a workout. I have been semi-true to my vow about not eating garbage, but who ca-res?
Oh my goodness, I just checked my buddy list and practically everyone on it has updated within the past two hours. I feel like I need to update now too, although I am not finished writing, but in the daytime - unless something specific is plaguing me I haven't much to say.
I ate a light lunch today - cucumber and avocado rolls (two) and one order of oshitashi (steamed seaweed in watered down vinegar, sprinkled with sesame seeds) - so I would not feel bad about having two (at the most, I am cutting myself off at two) glasses of either wine or champagne - if they have Vevue I'm drinking it - and some small d’Oeuvres, and only if they are vegetarian.
So I'll get on the bandwagon and submit this entry now and update tomorrow or later about this evening.
Wish me luck. First big girl event.
I just looked at the menu, I do not think they have champagne, and they do not even have red wine! They have white Burgundy, but I love red Burgundy. Grrrr.

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So Tired
11-14-05 | 18:32

This entry is arriving to you in installments. The below I wrote Sunday evening, and the next paragraph I wrote just twenty minutes ago - at work. I am writing this too at work but since I sent the above mentioned paragraph in an e-mail I don't have it fresh, but I could just look through my sent items but then I would rob you dear reader(s) of my tired incoherence.
I just fished cigarette ash covered leftover diner fare middle of the night breakdown collapse French fries out the trash in an attempt to eat some. I only ate two and they were not covered in ash. Last night was weird. I went to bed shortly after finishing my last entry and I just could not sleep.
Remnants from Saturday night's episode. I don't know what is wrong with me but on Saturday night a bit after I wrote my last entry I put myself to bed and after maybe thirty minutes of tossing and turning I decided that I wanted to drink a bottle of wine and watch television in the dark. I was glum. After about one fourth of the way of the bottle I realized that I couldn't sleep because Kelly wasn't home. It wasn't about where he was (at least not this time because I have issues with that also) it was about the fast that he was not home. While still in bed (which was warm and comfy with new white sheets, I don't do laundry anymore I just buy new sheets - at 600 thread count this could be a problem) I was anxious about the noise of the door opening and unlocking in the dead of night. The fact that I cannot put the blot on the door discomforts me. I just cannot sleep without that lock or the safety of Kelly next to me. This realization lead me to more drinking and the smoking of three cigarettes. I do not smoke anymore it has been about a year or more since I stopped, with one cigarette every two months or so and I've kept a pack in the kitchen drawer for situations just like Saturday night.
I must say that the episode of Saturday night was caused slightly by delving into my diaryland past and re-reading the diary of a fellow New Yorker who has since stopped updating in 2003. I really loved her writing and very much related to many of her issues, she also reminded me of the friend who has recently gotten in touch with me but who I have slight issues with. And that got me started on living in my studio on Christopher and how much I loved, loved, loved living alone and my drug addiction (which I also loved) and just that whole time for me. My life is so vastly different now and one of the many things that scare me is how dependent I am becoming on Kelly. For Christ sake I cannot even sleep without him in the apartment. And at the same time I am often aggravated at his stuff being in my apartment, how he doesn't pick up his clothes and whatnot. I feel like it taints the bubble that I feel in my apartment. The studio on Christopher was my bubble it was my universe. There were days where I didn't even leave the apartment and everything was sparkling clean - mainly due to my obsessive compulsion - but clean nonetheless - I mean shit shined. I felt so safe in that one room studio. Do I not feel safe on Bedford? No I do this place is fabulous. But since I share it I don't have that total feeling of, of... possession. And yet there are times where I love seeing PB's (I'm calling him that again starting now!) things around and I smile and I just love him so much. Clearly I have major control issues.
Well anyway, Saturday night resulted in ordering mozzarella sticks and French fries from The Waverly at two in the morning and completing my bottle of wine, waiting for PB to come home. Once he did - we talked. Eventually it came out that it scares me how dependent I am becoming on him. I am fiercely independent and the fact that every day, more and more, I am starting to really need him makes me, well drink an entire bottle of wine and smoke cigarettes.
Due to staying up at three o'clock on Saturday (Sunday morning) I am still fucking tired. It takes me nearly a week to feel good again. Well, anyway, sue to that I am dragging at work today and very happy that I haven't much to do - at the moment. I am drinking a Diet Coke to try and bring me up to speed because whenever I am very tired I look as if I am depressed and act as if I am slightly drunk. Not a good look to meet the new associates starting today.
Let me tell you ladies about my dinner last night!
I made spicy pasta with cauliflower and chickpeas. I started with slicing two carrots on the bias, one large head of cauliflower - cut into florets, one red onion sliced into one inch wedges, a whole bunch of cherry tomatoes cut in half, three cloves of thinly sliced garlic and a jar of drained chickpeas. So I blanched the carrots, cauliflower, and onions, then on the side I got a large pinch of saffron threads and placed them in a small bowl with a teaspoon of the boiling water from the blanched veggies. Oven set to 500 degrees and I roasted some cumin seeds and ground them. I then added all of the blanched vegetables to the bowl with the cherry tomatoes, garlic, and chickpeas. I added the saffron with its soaking liquid and added the toasted ground cumin, and a pinch of red pepper flakes. Add a three fourths a cup of dry white wine and a half a cup of olive oil and spread the entire mixture on a roasting tray and placed in the oven for roasting. Meanwhile I boiled some fresh penne in the same water as the blanching liquid. Once the vegetables were roasted and the pasta cooked to al dente I added the two in a large bowl. Served in a shallow bowl with some parsley and freshly grated parmesan and dinner was served!
For a side dish I made pan seared radicchio with a balsamic honey glaze. It was a hit. My spicy pasta with cauliflower and chickpeas was so incredibly delicious, and PB and I ranked it in the top three dishes I have made this fall. Considering I've only made six.. I am going to have the leftovers for dinner tonight.
And that leads me to my next paragraph - I must detoxify mysflef after the crazy two weeks I've had, cookies, popcorn, cheese sticks for Christ sake! There is a cocktail reception for all the new associates on Thursday and I really want to look good. I know no substantial difference can be made between now and Thursday but water weight can be lost and if I lay off the garbage I will feel a whole lot better. So last night in the shower I vowed (I do a lot of 'vowing' in the shower, vow to exercise, vow to tidy up...) to eat well. Eating well translates to no cookies, no pasta (other than my home cooked pasta tonight) from lunch places, no goldfishies, and NO Chinese food. I will also do Pilates every day this week and lift my weights as well.
And now for my next - and maybe final paragraph: I've also noticed that PB and rub off on each other and I am becoming more causal in my OCD with neatness regarding the state of the apartment. This too bothers me and when the place is in a state of disarray I actually feel sluggish and glum. But since I am becoming lazy - I do nothing about it and wait for the maid to clean it, which sucks when it is Friday since she comes on Tuesdays.
I'm going to have a second Diet Coke.
By the way - Please don't think I am a gross disgusting pig of a woman because I ate an ash covered French fry, because I am not.

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More Than Bears Love Honey
11-12-05 | 23:19

Today I shot a .22 rifle. After an uneventful and semi un fun lunch with my mother in which she drank too much wine and started being scary and sad, she had the car drop me off at the WestSide pistol range. Kelly and I had a three o’clock appointment for a beginner’s class. In retrospect I didn’t need to have Kelly fetch my passport for verification since the place is so lax –yet filled with so many cops – it is quite an amazing paradox. No identification was checked, and aside from filling out one form in which you promise you’re not a felon or on drugs, a felon could have faked a name. After some needless waiting due to the class prior to us going over time we were walked to the back room and taught our ‘safety lesson’ Well the lesson was taught by this lazy talking Asian man named Tom who had a cocked Colt 45 in his holster – needless to say he was awesome –he basically told us not to eat the bullets and to always point the gun either up or down. At this time I was pretty nervous due to the lack of proper training and the thirty minutes of waiting for the last class to clear out of the lesson room didn’t make me any calmer, in fact the longer we waited the more I wanted to leave but Kelly made me stay and by the time I had my safety goggles and those funny orange ear protectors on I was totally ready to go. Each magazine held ten bullets and an introductory lesson came with an extra box of bullets. The first twenty rounds went smoothly and I was a pretty good shot, but when I loaded my rifle a third time and shot once a bullet got stuck and Tom had to come and fix it and after that I was a little shaky and I totally fucked up on my second round of targets. The noise bothered me at first but I found that if I made myself relax rather then tense up every time there was a BANG I was able to concentrate easier and was a lot less nervous. All in all it was a swell time and next time Kelly and I go back I want to shoot 9mm rifles.
After shooting we went back home and later in the evening we saw that Sarah Silverman movie, Jesus Is Magic. It was not very good. It is more a lazy fat Saturday evening movie where you had too much pasta/chinese/nachos/chocolate and wine movie that you happen to catch just starting on one of the movie channels. I want to see three movies this coming season: Walk The Line, King Kong, and ShopGirl. I would like to see Shopgirl more than any of the two others. I wish to see Walk The Line because I never like that that River Phoenix brother guy as an actor and in all the advertisements and previews it seems as if he was born to play the role as Johnny Cash because well, he looks so fucking awesome.
I just got out of the shower and I need to moisturize, I also need to go to bed but I am afraid I am hungry but it is too late to eat. Blah. I only did my mild, mild twenty-minute cardio today and absolutely no Pilates and no weight lifting so I feel like a turd. I’ve also been two days without fruit and I love, love fruit I usually eat an entire grapefruit every morning, a banana mid morning followed by a fruit salad with lunch and either some melon, an apple, or pineapple or grapes for an evening snack and I haven’t had a bite of fruit in two days and I feel the difference I am irritable and I am constantly thirsty. Tomorrow I will load up on the sweet stuff.

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The jig is up
11-12-05 | 09:42

I didn’t mean to write non-entries last night, I just wanted to get a little of the old Ecstasia style –nix the depression and dope – and now I’m boring! Well not boring, just not as conflicted or at least not openly conflicted.
Kelly and I went to Blue Ribbon Bakery last night. I didn’t really feel like going since I wanted to catch up on my sleep but I ended up having an OK time. He told me about what inspires him to take photographs. Apparently it is the one fleeting moment of any given person in any given moment. My gripe, my gripe - oh man I wish I knew specifically why I despise so much what he does. So that ‘inspiration’ is why he enjoys taking photographs of pretty girls
I thought it was the clothes you were photographing?
Well, it is the girls too, because a young pretty girl is fleeting, that prettiness will go before she even knows it

Really!? – What the fuck, what a measly excuse, anyway – I’ve been down this road and I do not want to ruin my day before it even started.
More important matters: Kelly knows about this diary. We spoke about it yesterday. He is often teasing me about my online diary and I would always play dumb, so it had to come out some time. He found it last Winter by googling Ecstasia,, he told me. At first he was curious but then after looking at it for a minute (just a minute?) he decided to get it out of his head and not look ever again. Even if I don’t believe him I don’t really care. I mean he already knows and if he looked deeper he would have seen some pretty private shit. My only concern is what if he already knows all that pretty private shit? It is a little nerve racking.
Oh well, I have to go to Space salon and get my legs waxed. Then I’ve got to go to the tailor and get my camisoles and new coat tailored.
Be back later.

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