November 9th, 2003
|11:00 pm - i am a sucker for a smile, and yours is luminous.|
so. apparently when i was told that i had to work at least 2 shifts a week to stay on, that actually meant i could stay on until they found someone who could work more and replace me. and rather than fucking TELLING me this so i could start workign more shifts, which would not have been so difficult, they just let me keep working until i come in today and i'm not on the scehdule.
"Values are those things we don't live up to." -richard bandler
all my sad friends. i wish the world seemed nicer to you.
sometimes my dreams just don't make ANY sense. apparently when you're in a basement being brainwashed by an evil cult (by which i mean amanda offers us an ominous metal headband which just looking at i know will let her control my mind, but none of us think to turn down this offer) "so, wanna have sex?" is sufficiently suave to work, but then you end up humping a stuffed dolphin in what is clearly your brother's room from home even though you identify it as kevin's room. then jon and stacie show up and you go hide back in the basement so you can go to teh talentshow section of the tryouts to get into grade school, wiht your dad arnold shwarzeneger. but don't worry, it has a happy ending: arnold has a wonderful singing voice and you do make it into grade school. yay!
and then the other night i had approximately 23843 dreams, cuz i was waking up every few minutes. i had a bunch in a row where john's ghost was in my room walking around, or talking. he seemed so sad. it was almost like teh sleep paralysis except for no paralysis.
dan draws no feet
yet more proof my mom is amazing. here is an email she sent me recently:
Dear Daniel, Since you don't know what to do when you graduate, I thought of a career for you. I am serious! I read about this in the newspaper. It's becoming a mortician. Apparently you can train for it, and as you know there would be a steady source of customers. Even Sean Connery of 007 fame was one. It's scientific and has an esthetic component to it, as you get to dress up the body and put on makeup for viewing, so it may even be interesting. I'm really serious, so give it some thought. Let me know what you think. Love, Mom. P.S. I really am serious, no shit!
state: talk more
np: Soul Coughing - 05 - Bus To Beelzebub
ouch! sorry aboot the job, sir.
that dream is just about the most entertaining thing i've read in a long time. i'm still chuckling over it.
your mom is neato. i was thinking about that career the other day while watching return of the living dead. who actually does that work??! kept going through my head, but your mom puts an interesting perspective on it. it's sad but true, the funeral homes never have a slow period.
you've seen "death becomes her" right? great movie
|Date:||November 10th, 2003 12:54 am (UTC)|| |
You should ask her to attach the briss pictures to your resume.
i don't think that would be helpful
|Date:||November 11th, 2003 10:21 am (UTC)|| |
It would though! it got you the position of Bestest Friend!
:( you only love me for my bris!
on another note: thanks for passing on BP's message last night.
|Date:||November 10th, 2003 09:50 am (UTC)|| |
moms are the freaking best. i'm pretty sure mine is getting funnier with age.
they're like cheese and fine wine