Paper Gangsta

Change, change, change

I want to get up out of my skin
Tell you what

If I can shake it

I'ma make this

Something worth dreaming of.

SPEAKING OF WHICH. Had never seen the video for it before, until today (well, yarsilay at this point), and as the Gagster would say, I LOVE IT! I mean, come on! Look at those fucking strawberries! Why didn't I think of that?! I smell a photoshoot coming on...

In other news, I have officially decided to re-do my wardrobe. Where I'm actually going to find enough money to do this, I have no idea. Here's the breakdown of my weekly paycheck:

$275 a week of take-home.-$100 into my savings. -$50 that I must save to pay to ma mere the $200 a month. -$60 that goes into my secret cashbox where I'm collecting cash to eventually dump in one big chunk into my checking account. Which leaves me with $65 a week, which I somehow blow through like it's nothing. No idea where it all goes. Although, I suppose my cash dump is going to accrue rather quickly and I will eventually gather enough cash-ola to have a mini-shopping spree. But still, that plan is somehow failing because I am having these HIGHLY frequent unexpected expenses, aka purchasing Lady Gaga tickets for 100 bucks when I thought it would cost $60, having to fork out an extra $50 for textbooks that I was not expecting to have to pay out, etc.

I need more income. I can't do that Captcha whatever its called that MissCatroux does. I suppose I could (read: I SUPPOSABLY could do it), but don't really feel like looking into it. Too much work. Luckily, I WILL be getting a contract raise soon - some time next week, I believe - but it's certainly not going to provide me with an extra $100 a week. Although, it should give me about an extra 20 bucks or so, which certainly can't hurt.

In any event, unlike my blogging sistren - my blistren - I will not be posting pictures of outfitz. Rather, I will be slowly culling varying pieces of attire. My hope is to have at least a week's worth of new ensembles ripe and ready for presentation by the time Gaga's Performance Art Show arrives. Which, could probably happen. In fact, I'm kind of re-evaluating and re-adjusting my entire life in the hope of becoming more GLAMOROUS.

A few key points to touch on with regard to this:

(1) I'm needing to ACCESSORIZE more (no, I will not be carrying a purse aka a European Carry-All). If you have any suggestions, please alert me! I need all the help I can get with this. And I REFUSE to wear jewelry. I'll just carry a tommygun around.

(2) I'm planning on dropping at LEAST a good fifteen pounds within the next two months. How I'm going to do it, I don't know. Obviously I cannot work a gym membership into my shit budget that is mentioned above.

(3) I'm going to attempt to start eating healthier. I've realized that a great snack is sugarsnap peas with a lil' bit of ranch dressing. Just a wee bit. You can eat an ENTIRE BAG of sugarsnaps (its like wayyyy bigger than just a snack size, but still fairly reasonable)...just 100 calories. No fat, only 7g of carbs. Vitamins A and C. And they taste FUCKING delicious! You can't lose. As opposed to 100Cal MiniMuffins, where its like 100 calories PER MUFFIN.

Thats basically it so far. Perhaps I should actually come up with a 12-Step Single Ladies Dance Program.

Then I will be able to put cha hands UP! high and flaunt all my super-hot-bod-ness with my mad dope new clothes. We will see.

P.S. I just LOVE how Blogger WILL NOT EVER format a post correctly.

Sampull

I really enjoy being forced into doing things I don't want to do. Par exemple, having to go to a TRASHBOX basketball game for no reason at all! As for being forced into doing things that I do want to do, well...that's a different story. Like they say, you can't rape the willing!

This game was a COMPLETE waste of time, I hate to say. I kind of feel bad when I absolutely will not enjoy things that I don't want to do. I supposed I could try to make the best out of those circumstances (Sir C. Stances) to alleviate some of the irritation and rancor I harbor when those sitches arise (BTDUBZ what am I, Kim Possible?). I'm not sure how to do that though, since after all, it's one thing to say that I'm going to put a positive spin on things that thoroughly suck, and another thing to actually do it.

And quite honestly, I think there's a part of me (a LARGE part of me) that likes to be miserable so that I can whine endlessly about shit that really isn't a big deal at all. The part about things that I'm forced to do, or just compelled to do, that irks me the most is that I have no control, which is undoubtedy the worst feeling in the world in my goop-tacular opinion. My DOOK-tacular opinion.

The best part is when it's my mother telling me what to do. As I gain more and more independence, it becomes EXCEEDINGLY frustrating when I am reminded (and lately I've been getting these reminders every single day) that I do not yet have complete, unconditional control over my own life. Or maybe that's a bad way of putting it, since everybody, or almost everybody, has complete control over their choices. I should say that there are many instances where I really ought to obey my mom's wishes, as the repercussions of non-compliance would far outweigh the temporary euphoria that disobedience would incur.

Recently I've caught myself VERY often wondering what would happen if I just uprooted my entire life? For realreal, not for playplay. What would ACTUALLY happen if I were to just quit my job, pack all my shit, and go somewhere else? What if I tried doing that right this very moment? Could I make it work? Every day I feel more and more like I just want to LEAVE (GET OUT), as Joanna "JoJo" Levesque sings. The only problem is that I'm stuck. I certainly don't make enough money to live on my own ($1100/month take-home? I don't think so), and even if I did, I would NOT be moving anywhere else in Chicagoland, which means that I would have to quit my job anyway!

Theoretically and hypothetically speaking, I could just go away to school out of state, but that costs like a billion dollars and I REFUSE to have thousands upon thousands of dollars in student loan debt. I don't even care if Suze Orman (aka Suzogreen) says that student loan debt is good debt to have because the payments are easy and whatever. I'm not doing all that, it's not part of the plan.

It's like I'm in some weird young adult purgatory! I can't leave, but I can't bear to stay much longer, either! It's a classique Catch-22, only like three times worse. A Catch-66. A Catch-69, even! I just have to wonder how many other people go through shit like this. I guess that's just what life is like when you're in college? Whatever.

I apologize for the endless, rambling fucktartion/-tia, but I can't help but rant about this.

Rube Goldberg

The moon shines brightly in the crystal sky tonight...as my longgggg blondish weave (Tyra hand motion) cascades down and I cry eighteen teardrops, one for each year of my life...damn these tears, they're ruining my MUDD tank! Although....the tears soak it so you can see right through to my breasteses that were crafted by the gods. So perhaps its not such a bad thing, after all.

But the full moon reminds me of the songstress Brandy (sidenote: I always think the moon is like a necklace when I look at the cover from far-ish away, how gheytartar). And then I turn into her and start singing.

Why you don't re-turn my calls?
Why you trip bout where I be?

Oh BreeBroo. Of course, Brandy makes me think of the word brandywine because I'm a doofus who would think that. And I'm not talking about the kind of tomato, either (sidenote: someone's license plate yarsilay (sic) read "POTATOE", and I'm assuming that would be po-TAH-toe), I'm envisioning an orchid...as if I'm Bree Van de Kamp.

And then thanks to that damn English Comp II class with JJ, my FAVEEE, I'm looking at it in a Mapplethorpesque light and I end up seeing a vajayjay. But like...an infected one. That big white splotch can't be good. Unless it's a cumtwat, in which case that would be asseptibull.

The image of an infected lox box triggers a thought of everyone's favorite two-dollar crackwhore, and thats two dollar, not 10 dollar, not 20 dollar, not 69 dollar...et cetera. Bee tee dubz, my fave pic of the Wino is Exhibit C....which stands for Cockslut, naturally. And a lot of other things, too.

I still don't know what that orange thing in her moufth is. It's either a carrot stick (again...cockslut) or a piece of orange gum. Which, I must say that the Citrusmint flavor of Orbit gum is très delicieux (-euse? I don't know whether 'flavor' is butch or femme in French. Although I guess everything is femme since it's such a FUCKING FAIRY language).

Then I look at that picture of her and I immediately call her a scary clown person in my head. Or out loud, if I feel like it. I work it into some song lyrics and sing it out. Then I dance like nobody's watching and I live life with no regrets. But then I think of more scary clown people and then this bitch shows up on my retinii.

AIEEEE!!!!!!

Then to escape I jump up and try to run while airborne.

Yaop-BOHUMMMMMMM.

Suivant, I start to think about odd creatures of the night. And Music of the Night, too. I see Angels of Music off in the distance, lyricsmithing into the darkness...past the Point of No Return.

Then Wolverine doesn't show up (unfortunately...oh Hugh), but instead a werewolf pops up whence I picture the RodHam's mug.

NOTE: Stop checking him out, you furry-fucking fuckfuck (that was a good alliteration whether you agree or not, and I don't like to toot my own horn...though for five bucks I can).

And the werewolf brings us back to the fucking full moon again! Talk about your six degrees of separation. Although...not really, since the moon isn't separated from itself. But it's the idea. It was a good concept, the only problem...

....is in the EXECUTION.

That was too compliqué anyway. Convoluted, contorted, like a COUTURE avertissement. As I turn into Tyra and do the slouch with my arms on my hips all protruding out.

Now THAT'S coming full circle.

Love, Dérrier

'Twas a Rough Morn in the Haus of Jule-Aasko

A blow-by-blowjob of the morning. I woke up and got to work early. Which made me feel like this:

...Until I found a stack of paper of the price changes from last night. I realized that PeggyPoo had gotten a little bit confused. I researched what happened, only to find out she executed the price changes dated 1/5/09 instead of the ones dated 1/4/09 like she was supposed to.

Which made me feel like this:

Then I looked at the numbers...turns out she changed 13,852 prices that weren't supposed to be changed until tomorrow.

Aaaand then I felt like this:

So I end up calling the help desk, and then the Scan Administration Goddess known as Donna called the store and told me to pull every sale tag early, and then manually put back on sale all the items on display in the store.

It only took me four and a half hours!

Which made me feel like this:

Until I found out that LargeMarge got terminated.

And then I was back to this:

And that's my day.

And we've accomplished...

...what exactly? As the hour of 0200 draws ever nearer, let's take some time to reflect on the first day of MMIX. Sidenote: With a number like that, this year is either gonna be really fucked or really fantasticular (testicular?).

I woke up at 10:30, somehow.
I did like 2 logic puzzles in my dumbass book, which somehow took me until....
12:30.
I enjoyed my breakfast...at 2:30.
I sat around and did a whole lot of nothing.
Got the Buxx at 3:30. ---- This better not be a year of half-hours because I'm not doing all that.
Drove around aimlessly for like an hour and a half.
Came home and did more nothing.
And now here we are.

Awesome day!
Ta-da! 2 AM 1.2.09

We're gonna have fun.

WelCome.

Hello.

My name is

Oh MyGlit.

And this

is
myyyy blogggg.