two things
on my mind... but now I've got to go to the bathroom, so I'll "b" "r" "b".
I'm back. okay first: dates. I'm a terrible dater. not taking this last one as an example, and I haven't had that many, but most of my dates have been hell. hell I say! boy, holding a conversation is usually so difficult, somehow. I hate feeling the effort pangs of the other person to strike for a common interest, if only because silence is just too upsetting. all that makes me nervous and usually all the conversation themes are either complicated (what's your favourite food? are you in a relationship right now?) redundant (what do you do? does it pay well?), or downright boring (are you from around here? what's your family lizzzzzZZZZz?) and/or stupid. we don't need examples of these last; skin diseases are only the start. I usually don't try to put in that much, myself, after I've got a couple of very confused looks from very random remarks of mine. I've only just discovered that I, on the whole, am mostly full of bull, that I talk bull most of the time, and that what I say is not to be taken seriously 99.8% of the time. furthermore, that I'm not interested in discussing really important, trascendental stuff with people I barely know. why do people always want to talk about real stuff in dates? jeez.
and on the other hand, when I've had a good date, most often than not I've ended up in a ride down a muliple day toboggan, like the one I just dropped from this morning, with a very sore body and a very round eyed look, usually wondering what the hell just happened.
I suppose it's good that I'm not asked out very often, and that I rarely agree to go out on dates, and that a crushing majority of them have been a disaster. I find I'll keep the no-dating policy on the whole, but upon committee meeting some exceptions may be made, with certain provisions and few limitations.
on the whole, though, I guess this still means I'm a terrible dater and I have yet to learn when to say 'thanks so much, I've had a lovely evening, now I have an appointment for my parrot's sunday evening manicure. after that, I have choir practice. good day, sir."
ohwell.
second: marianne, you twat. it's really exhausting when you act like such a big baby. if you're reading this, the message is, thanks for NOT throwing my freshly washed clothes to the floor, I suppose. other than that, be a fucking grownup next time and if you need the washing machine and you don't feel like talking to me for whatever mad reason, not even to solicit the removal of my finished laundry, have the decency to put them clothes in the basket at least, and not on the filthy top of the counter. thanks.
ah, and I really loved the detail that you picked out and hung YOUR t-shirt in the wash but piled the rest of it artistically because it was mine and you're throwing a tantrum. bitch.
yours truly,
eleanor.
top 3 two things
1. yellow submarine -- the beatles (for earlier)
2. cocaine blues -- johnny cash
3. break stuff -- limp bizkit (a good angry song)
I'm back. okay first: dates. I'm a terrible dater. not taking this last one as an example, and I haven't had that many, but most of my dates have been hell. hell I say! boy, holding a conversation is usually so difficult, somehow. I hate feeling the effort pangs of the other person to strike for a common interest, if only because silence is just too upsetting. all that makes me nervous and usually all the conversation themes are either complicated (what's your favourite food? are you in a relationship right now?) redundant (what do you do? does it pay well?), or downright boring (are you from around here? what's your family lizzzzzZZZZz?) and/or stupid. we don't need examples of these last; skin diseases are only the start. I usually don't try to put in that much, myself, after I've got a couple of very confused looks from very random remarks of mine. I've only just discovered that I, on the whole, am mostly full of bull, that I talk bull most of the time, and that what I say is not to be taken seriously 99.8% of the time. furthermore, that I'm not interested in discussing really important, trascendental stuff with people I barely know. why do people always want to talk about real stuff in dates? jeez.
and on the other hand, when I've had a good date, most often than not I've ended up in a ride down a muliple day toboggan, like the one I just dropped from this morning, with a very sore body and a very round eyed look, usually wondering what the hell just happened.
I suppose it's good that I'm not asked out very often, and that I rarely agree to go out on dates, and that a crushing majority of them have been a disaster. I find I'll keep the no-dating policy on the whole, but upon committee meeting some exceptions may be made, with certain provisions and few limitations.
on the whole, though, I guess this still means I'm a terrible dater and I have yet to learn when to say 'thanks so much, I've had a lovely evening, now I have an appointment for my parrot's sunday evening manicure. after that, I have choir practice. good day, sir."
ohwell.
second: marianne, you twat. it's really exhausting when you act like such a big baby. if you're reading this, the message is, thanks for NOT throwing my freshly washed clothes to the floor, I suppose. other than that, be a fucking grownup next time and if you need the washing machine and you don't feel like talking to me for whatever mad reason, not even to solicit the removal of my finished laundry, have the decency to put them clothes in the basket at least, and not on the filthy top of the counter. thanks.
ah, and I really loved the detail that you picked out and hung YOUR t-shirt in the wash but piled the rest of it artistically because it was mine and you're throwing a tantrum. bitch.
yours truly,
eleanor.
top 3 two things
1. yellow submarine -- the beatles (for earlier)
2. cocaine blues -- johnny cash
3. break stuff -- limp bizkit (a good angry song)
posted by gaby san at
3/20/2006 05:07:00 PM
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