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I'm so going nuts over Cowboy Bebop lately. It's sick. I think I'm in some sort of sad I-want-to-be-Faye-Valentine thing. Which is really scary considering I've been told before that I look like an anime girl. I have a 30, 32 ish inseam and a .. well, never mind. If I lost about 10 pounds on the waist I'd look like an anime girl.
Anyway. *ahem* Enough about me and my sad habits.
I'm so hyper now, and I blame it all on listening to this Cowboy Bebop music. Which I must have more of! I must! Augh! Anime jazz! I love you! Ahem... fangirling again. Must stop. At least I have energy again, which is good.
Okay, so today was productive hopefully of a new job. I went and did this computer testy thing at Avon, and they'll contact me again in a week... and hopefully that'll work out. And... I don't know. It's easy call center work for a damn decent salary, so hopefully it'll actually pan out. And it's at hours that aren't completely crazy so I won't fall asleep at the desk. And it's for Avon. Which isn't a company that's likely to go under anytime soon. And it would mean I probably through no fault of my own wouldn't have to work at Primerica anymore! Yay! No more land of shiny happy people! No more pet the yuppie! No more Puppy Boy, which ... sad, but oh well. He's so cute. He needs a dog biscuit. And a fashion coordinator, ye gods! Who told him he could wear that light beige, tan jacket, with that deep deep royal purple tie?? That, Mister, is a fashion violation!
The real folk blues
Honto no kanashimi ga shiritaidake
Doro no kawa ni sukatta jinsei mo warukuwanai
Ichido kiri de owarunara
The sad part is, I actually understand half of that.
My ex was in the apartment a hair before I was... and I forgot to turn my computer off! Blast! Which means that he might actually know I have a livejournal now. I hope not... that would be insanely obnoxious. Fortunately I think I got in before he expected me, so I don't think he knows about this. And if he does.
Scrroooooooooooooo You!
So hyper.
He still reads my other online journal. It's so terribly, terribly pathetic. He could just ask me what's going on in my life, you know, like a normal friendly person. No. Instead he digs around in my room, reads my online journal, goes through and keeps some of my mail, sifts through my trash for used condoms... that still weirds me out. It's one thing to see Alicia Silverstone doing it onscreen when you know the only thing that condom's been used by is a tube of mayonnaise (oh, you bad condiment *spank*) but it's quite another to realize that someone did it to your trash in real life. Ugh. It's like finding out he jerked off on your bed.
Come to think of it, there are some weird stains...
Kidding!
I hope.
Losing weight again. At a great rate of knots, actually, so hopefully if I actually get my ass out of this chair and exercise more I should be down to the sort of weight I was back when I was actually dancing most of the week. Which, actually, I should get off my ass and do. Imagine that. I actually used to be fit, you know. I used to dance about an hour, hour and a half, for five days out of the week, and then walk two miles a day. Uphill! Both ways! Actually only uphill one way, but that was a damn steep hill. I really need to get back into the whole walking around thing again. Or at least the dancing thing. Now that I actually feel much better with the whole self-esteem thing (the job, much as I hate it, helps a lot) I might.
And then I can look like Faye Valentine! Wheeee! Yes, still far too obsessed with that Cowboy Bebop show. I need to calm down. I need to stop listening to the damn music! I need to get the soundtrack *froth, salivate* I need to do something. Maybe I'll get up and dance before I settle down to work for the night. Yeah. Because when I finish this entry my hands are probably going to hurt something awful because I'm typing at my top speed of like 100 words per minute here. And I know because I can hear my keyboard clack-clack-clacking along. I type damn fast, too, at least around 90 words per minute when I'm typing at my fastest, or around my fastest. At least that's what the temp agencies said.
Okay. Yeah. Mind's going a mile a minute here. Must calm down, because this is bad, because I know what I get like when I get this hyper. Auuughhh. My brain explodes. Or overheats. Or something. Argh. I need a calculus book or something so I can just sit down and do math problems...
Or I could go take notes in that history book that's sitting on my bed and looking reprovingly at me. As though history books have faces, but you get the point. Okay, going to go do that now. And moving my to-do list and crossing it off and stuff. Okay. Really. Going now.
See you space cowboy!
EDIT:
I. Am a goober. There's a whole timeline section in the back of the giant book I've been slogging through. So I can start with that and ... ugh. I feel like such an idiot. Ok, one timeline section, coming up. At least the prelims of one.
And what the hell's with LJ? Ugh.
Anyway. *ahem* Enough about me and my sad habits.
I'm so hyper now, and I blame it all on listening to this Cowboy Bebop music. Which I must have more of! I must! Augh! Anime jazz! I love you! Ahem... fangirling again. Must stop. At least I have energy again, which is good.
Okay, so today was productive hopefully of a new job. I went and did this computer testy thing at Avon, and they'll contact me again in a week... and hopefully that'll work out. And... I don't know. It's easy call center work for a damn decent salary, so hopefully it'll actually pan out. And it's at hours that aren't completely crazy so I won't fall asleep at the desk. And it's for Avon. Which isn't a company that's likely to go under anytime soon. And it would mean I probably through no fault of my own wouldn't have to work at Primerica anymore! Yay! No more land of shiny happy people! No more pet the yuppie! No more Puppy Boy, which ... sad, but oh well. He's so cute. He needs a dog biscuit. And a fashion coordinator, ye gods! Who told him he could wear that light beige, tan jacket, with that deep deep royal purple tie?? That, Mister, is a fashion violation!
The real folk blues
Honto no kanashimi ga shiritaidake
Doro no kawa ni sukatta jinsei mo warukuwanai
Ichido kiri de owarunara
The sad part is, I actually understand half of that.
My ex was in the apartment a hair before I was... and I forgot to turn my computer off! Blast! Which means that he might actually know I have a livejournal now. I hope not... that would be insanely obnoxious. Fortunately I think I got in before he expected me, so I don't think he knows about this. And if he does.
Scrroooooooooooooo You!
So hyper.
He still reads my other online journal. It's so terribly, terribly pathetic. He could just ask me what's going on in my life, you know, like a normal friendly person. No. Instead he digs around in my room, reads my online journal, goes through and keeps some of my mail, sifts through my trash for used condoms... that still weirds me out. It's one thing to see Alicia Silverstone doing it onscreen when you know the only thing that condom's been used by is a tube of mayonnaise (oh, you bad condiment *spank*) but it's quite another to realize that someone did it to your trash in real life. Ugh. It's like finding out he jerked off on your bed.
Come to think of it, there are some weird stains...
Kidding!
I hope.
Losing weight again. At a great rate of knots, actually, so hopefully if I actually get my ass out of this chair and exercise more I should be down to the sort of weight I was back when I was actually dancing most of the week. Which, actually, I should get off my ass and do. Imagine that. I actually used to be fit, you know. I used to dance about an hour, hour and a half, for five days out of the week, and then walk two miles a day. Uphill! Both ways! Actually only uphill one way, but that was a damn steep hill. I really need to get back into the whole walking around thing again. Or at least the dancing thing. Now that I actually feel much better with the whole self-esteem thing (the job, much as I hate it, helps a lot) I might.
And then I can look like Faye Valentine! Wheeee! Yes, still far too obsessed with that Cowboy Bebop show. I need to calm down. I need to stop listening to the damn music! I need to get the soundtrack *froth, salivate* I need to do something. Maybe I'll get up and dance before I settle down to work for the night. Yeah. Because when I finish this entry my hands are probably going to hurt something awful because I'm typing at my top speed of like 100 words per minute here. And I know because I can hear my keyboard clack-clack-clacking along. I type damn fast, too, at least around 90 words per minute when I'm typing at my fastest, or around my fastest. At least that's what the temp agencies said.
Okay. Yeah. Mind's going a mile a minute here. Must calm down, because this is bad, because I know what I get like when I get this hyper. Auuughhh. My brain explodes. Or overheats. Or something. Argh. I need a calculus book or something so I can just sit down and do math problems...
Or I could go take notes in that history book that's sitting on my bed and looking reprovingly at me. As though history books have faces, but you get the point. Okay, going to go do that now. And moving my to-do list and crossing it off and stuff. Okay. Really. Going now.
See you space cowboy!
EDIT:
I. Am a goober. There's a whole timeline section in the back of the giant book I've been slogging through. So I can start with that and ... ugh. I feel like such an idiot. Ok, one timeline section, coming up. At least the prelims of one.
And what the hell's with LJ? Ugh.