The Sketchy Thing About Greyhound

Is the way my luggage always ends up covered in mysterious liquid.

That and the guy who invited me to go to an illegal drag race with him.

Valium Is My New Best Friend

So, it turns out that eleven hours on Greyhound actually isn't that bad. Especially when there are super cool people waiting for you on the other side.

Eight In the Morning

I woke up this morning not hungover. It was kind of novel for me. I was like, "Whoa, my head feels kinda . . . good."

I'm leaving for Oberlin on Greyhound in a couple of hours. Gonna see my girlfriend and my roommates and everyone else. I'm kind of excited and nervous that it's going to be weird, since I haven't been back there since graduation.

Hangovers That Kill

Woke up this morning wondering if it was actually possible to die from a hang over. Then I wondered if I would feel better if I did.

After peeing and drinking water and puking bile, I felt a little better.

Damn those wiley bartenders and their free drinks! And double damn them for inviting me out tonight!

This Is Not My Beautiful Life

I'm lying in bed last night, trying to go to sleep, when I hear, "Cyn! Hey, Cyn, come out here for a sec!" I'm confused by this, because I happen to know that there is a boy in my roommate's bed (hereafter known as The Boy From My Roommate's Bed, or BFMRB), and also because the person talking to me sounds like it's actually BFMRB, and not my roommate.

So I'm all, "Uhhgn, hold on a sec," and I find a robe and my glasses and open my door . . .

To find the Boy From My Roommate's Bed standing there wearing a shirt and no pants, and my roommate standing next to him fully clothed.

BFMRB: What do you think?
Me: Uhhh?
Roommate: Is the first thing you notice about him his balls?
Me: Not really, it's kind of dark in here.
BFMRB: See! I told you! I don't have to wear pants.
Roommate: Fine. Go smoke that way. Don't blame me if people see you.
BFMRB: Want to come have a cigarette with us?
Me: I don't smoke.
BFMRB: Want to anyway?
Me: Okay.
Inside My Head: I put clothes on for this?

Then we all went out on the porch and chatted while the boys smoked.

Justification

I think the fact that I have Martha Stewart sheets is made okay when I think about how Martha Stewart would feel if she knew just how much girlcum I've gotten all over said sheets.

Collating is Fun

So, continuing in my prestigious temping career, I had a job today where I collated things.

Yep. That's right. Collated things. For six hours. It actually wasn't bad. I may look into careers as a collater.

Being a trained monkey is fun when it pays ten dollars an hour!

My Creative Writing Degree Comes In Handy

So I'm looking through the She-male adds in the back of the Citypaper (Shut up. You do it too.) and one of them says, "I like it Greek, so stick it in deep."

I immediately go, "Hey, that's an off-rhyme!" And that, boys and girls, is pretty much all I'm using my degree from a small prestigious liberal arts school for lately.

Girl's Gotta Have It

Someone has to buy me this now!

(Not work safe)

Shitty Temp

You know those commercials where someone takes their kid to the office and leaves for like, ten minutes, and then they come back and the kid's covered in copy fluid? That's pretty much what I'm like as a temp.

I mean, I'm not actually that bad. But I did manage to get water all over the desk using one of those little dohickeys with the bottle of water and the sponge that you use to avoid licking envelopes. And so far I've had incidents with both the copier and the stamp machine. The copier appears to actually be slightly more complicated than the Hubble spacecraft. And don't even get me started on the phone system.

Plus, I've been accidentally telling people some guy was out all day when he was actually in. But the guy has an amish beard, so maybe he didn't want to talk on the phone anyway.

If I'm such a terrible temp that I actually bring about the fall of capitalism, that would be a good thing, right? Capitalism bad, shitty temping good, right?

Pin-Up Calendar

Whoa. I'll I have to say is . . . whoa.

(Probably not worksafe)

Temping Rocks!

Lookie here, there's internet at this temp job! Also, there's nothing for me to do.

On the bad side, I think the fact that I've actually been, you know, doing internships that were supposed to help my future career possibilities for the last two years has made me a shitty temp. I'm all, "Ahhhhh! Phone confusing!" Of course, it also helps that when I "temp" at my dad's office, they have a phone system from approximately 1957, so I'm also confused by the fact that the phone is not faux wood. (Seriously. The phones at my dad's office. Faux wood grain. It's beautiful.)

Another Mystery

My bathroom smells like weed. Yet, I have not been smoking any.

Recycle

Last March, I was in a car accident and they cut my pants off of me.

So on Monday and Tuesday, I made a skirt out of the pants.

You can see the line where they cut them over my left hip. Also, this picture is crazy because I had to stand on my bed to be able to get all of the skirt in the picture, and the movement of take the picture caused me to bounce up and down on the bed. But you get the general idea.

I Am Clearly Insane

Serendipitious

Somewhere in North Carolina, the streets of Manly and Tinkerbell intersect.

At that intersection, there is my girlfriend.

Why

Is it a hundred dollars to take Greyhound from Philadelphia to Cleveland and back? It's twelve hours each way, and it's not like you're going to enjoy any of those twelve hours.

Mystery

This morning in the shower, I found a dime stuck to my ass.

Yay, Annie!

I saw Annie Sprinkle at Temple University yesterday. For those of you who haven't heard of Annie, she's a sex positive feminist goddess. I highly recommend The Sluts and Goddesses Video Workshop and Deep Inside Annie Sprinkle.

I had seen her before at Oberlin, and she gave pretty much the same talk here. It interesting to see it again, because the second time around it was kind of less shocking to see the extreme close ups of vaginas on the big screen. (Let me tell you, a ten foot high vulva is quite a thing. My poor gay roommate was quite scared.) So I think I actually appreciated her talk more the second time around, because I wasn't busy being shocked by it.
It was also interesting to see it at Temple, where they actually had protesters and stuff. When she came to Oberlin everyone was like, "Ohmigod! Annie Sprinkle! YAY!" whereas apparently at Temple people were like, "Um, pornstar? Why?"

Then after Annie, we went to our local gay bar, and the bartenders were bored and gave us free drinks and my roommate showed his dick to people.

Oh, and none of those links are work-safe, if you couldn't figure that out yourself.

This Product Will Change Your Life

I left my girlfriend alone in a room with my Small Favors girly porno comic collection. When I came back, well, let's just say I wrote Colleen Coover (the author) a thank you note today.

Also, apparently there's a book coming out in October. I am super excited!!!

Brrrr!

I just discovered that the water in my Brita has a thin layer of ice over it. I feel my fridge may be a trifle too cold.

I Am A Hipster

I saw the World Famous Pontani Sisters tonight. The act itself was quite cute and delightful, but there was a little too much drunken MC raffle action, and far too little Pontani Sisters. They only did four or five dance numbers, which was sad.

However, I did meet a really cool girl, which is exciting, because I don't know anyone in this city.

Hot Girly Action

The girl and Julie are coming tonight!!! Yay yay yay!

Someone Buy Me This Shit

The Monkey Represents Sharing and I want one!!! I'll share it with you if you buy it for me, I promise.

Hello, Gay Bar

I was in a gay bar last night (surprise, surprise), when suddenly a fight broke out between a very drunk gay couple and someone's straight Italian friend. It ended with the straight guy punching one of the gay men in the nose and being thrown out of the bar, with his friend trailing after him. Fucking breeders.

So while straight boy and friend are gone, another gay man and his friend come in and sit down where they had been sitting. Then the gay man's friend goes off somewhere, and straight boy's friend comes back and sits in his old seat, which is where gay man's friend had been sitting. So gay man goes, "That seat's taken," and straight man's friend says, "I was taking it before you were." So me and gay man start talking, mostly about what a dick straight man's friend is, like, seriously, would it kill him to fucking move? It's not like he's with anyone. So I explain what happened before he came in to gay man, and eventually gay man goes off to sit with his displaced friend.

This is when straight man's friend, who I will call Paolo, because that is his name, comes and sits next to me. He starts the conversation off with talking about how his straight friend has mafia ties and guns in the car, and could come back and kill us all. Then he asks if I'm gay or straight. Foolishly, I cop to being bi, but mention that I have a girlfriend. Paolo says he's bi, but likes girls better. Paolo tells me that I'm a 7 out of 10, but he'd like to make love to me anyway, because nobody's perfect. (What's up with people saying "make love" anyway? It always creeps me out.) Somewhere in the middle of this, my roommate leaves the gay bar, not catching my subtle girly "Please don't leave me with the scary man" signals, because he is not a girl and does not understand.

Paolo continues to be creepy, talking about his mafia ties and how he's dangerous and how he finds me attractive and blay blay blay. He keeps touching me, which I don't like but have no idea how to stop. At one point he insists on me letting him kiss me on the cheek. I finally escape to go to the bathroom, and when I return I find that Paolo is on the other side of the bar, and my drink has disapeared. The bartender apologizes, said he thought that I had left, and offers to give me another. I say that it's quite alright, and hightail it out of there.

Then I march home full of righteous fury, and procede to wake up my poor innocent roommate and scream at him for leaving me alone with creepy men. He apologizes as though I'm a normal human being, and not a drunk crazy woman, which I feel is very sweet of him.

So what the hell is with creepy men not taking no for an answer even when I'm in a gay bar and I say I have a girlfriend? I mean, I realize that for some fuct up straight boy reason the phrase "I have a girlfriend" is actually the best pick up line ever, but sometimes what it actually means is, "I'm taken, and even if I wasn't I wouldn't want to have anything to do with your sorry, dumb, five times older than me ass." What do normal people do in these situations? I'm really horrible at telling people to back off, even when said people haven't just spent lots of time telling me about how they could have me killed. Next time, should I just hit the creepy guy over the head with my beer bottle?

Lying is Good

I went to a temp agency today, in hopes that one day I will recieve some currency in exchange for service rendered. They had me fill out a form, and I claimed that I knew how to use Excel, despite having only used it twice or so. "How hard can it be?" I thought.

Then they told me they were going to test me on Excel and MS Word. "Shit," I thought, "They're going to find out that I'm a big stinky liar and I will never work ever."

So I took the tests, and I scored in the "Master" category for both of them.

The moral of this story is obviously that I should lie more.

Look Who's Back

We have internet in my very own apartment now. Tres exciting!

The last week has been a whirlwind of shopping for furniture and house things, and painting the apartment. Most of the shopping has been financed by my roommate's mother, which is nice. I think that I may actually have seen more of the inside of Target than the inside of my apartment in the last week. Also, my bastard realty company keeps promising to send people over to fix up the apartment. I think they may be repainting parts of the apartment for us eventually, as well, athough presumably not the parts of it that we've just painted.

And the most exciting news of all: We've built a bar. So come up for a drink sometime, y'all.

Real Fast

I'm currently writing this from a cafe I found that inexplicably has free internet . . . It's very confusing, and I think the whole thing may inexplicably be a marketing plan for something, but, hey free internet. However, I really only have about ten minutes more of free internet, as there are many signs that say "Please limit internet use to 30 minutes."

I'm not sure when I will have internet in my apartment, as I called the cable company and they informed me it would cost approximately a billion dollars. Will discuss with roommate. May look into DSL. Computers will not arrive until Thursday, in any case.

Not sure when roommate is arriving. Possibly today.

Am madly in love with Philadelphia. Madly in love! This place makes me happy.

Continue to be unemployed.

Have aquired mattress and dressor. Both are lovely.

Hate reality company with white hot fury of a thousand burning suns. Long story. Will elaborate later. In meantime, hate! So much hate! Flames, running up and down the sides of my face!!!

Got books today. Nice.

Recieved latest copy of Bust, conviently in apartment mailbox. Very nice. Enjoyed very much. Suggest you aquire it as well.

Feel I would like porno theme in bathroom. Suggestions on how to keep porn from getting all crinkly from steam appreciated.