2002-02-25 | 8:10 a.m.

I was going to go out with N & M on Saturday night as we had discussed over the phone. But when I got over to N's house we cracked open a few beers, oohed and ahhed at her new light from IKEA and then managed to watch all of Dazed & Confused. When that was done I had no inkling to go out whatsoever. Plus M had the running shits so he never came by to N's house. So more beers were consumed. We talked. Mellow night, but it was all good. I would have stayed out longer because it was a nice chill environment but my eyes were drooping and I was longing for my comfortable bed. Came home and was in bed before 2am. All good.

I tried exchanging the bag at Bloomies with my brother last night when he came home too. But because my brother doesn't have the gift receipt and the chick helping us had a hot stone up her ass she was like well we can take it back for a lower price. I'm all like, fuck that. The bag is brand new, never used. I'll just keep it for myself and end up using it. (Well on the inside. On the outside I smiled and said 'no thank you' and left. Still want that bag I mentioned but I'll wait and save up for it. Plus next time I'm going down to the Kate Spade store instead. I'm tired of the bitchy people at Bloomingdale�s. Whatever, they lose a client - one who really likes to shop. Bad for them, good for someone else. Fuckers.

I'm such a slacker. L.bug's birthday box will be sent out to her late. Only because I'm so friggen lazy and really didn't want to do jackshit today. But hopefully when she does get it then that will make up for the fact I'm such a lazy ass these past few days. Plus we're cool. She's dope like that.

N's birthday will be coming up shortly. I have a feeling that if I buy her a pipe and a bottle of liquor she will be ecstatic. But I doubt I'll buy her a pipe. Just not my style and hell I wouldn't even know where to get one. Plus I'd rather not aid her in that habit. I've never done it and not that I care what you do, but I'm not going to help you do it. Know what I mean?

And hell while I'm stating my opinion let me tell you what I think about the whole Daniel Pearl thing. But before I do let me say that I think that these are questions we all want to know in some level. Now on to my Daniel Pearl comments. I can understand that he believed he was on a 'mission of truth', but I'm sorry he must of had a death wish to go somewhere where American's aren't wanted at all. And yes I know he was there to do his job, but I guess family wasn't as important as his job since he was willing to leave his pregnant wife alone at home. And yes, it's been stated by his wife that she would have gone with him had she not been pregnant and sick. Which just furthers my point - shouldn't he have stayed with her since she was pregnant and sick? Wouldn't family mean more than the greater good of a story? I don't get that at all.

And it angers and frustrates me because some horrific monster decided to kill him to prove a point (which coincidentally doesn't exist what so ever because the monster is a lunatic) when the goddamn man has a baby on the fucking way! It's disgusting. I'm angered by it all still. I can't watch anything that comes up on the news when it does because I get angry. I want to slam my fists hard against a wall. And I'm just as sick as one of them because right about now I just want to say yes - bomb the fuck out of everyone over there. Yes innocents will die that way but fuck it, its war and innocent people die. And then, then I realize what I'm thinking and writing on here, and I shake my head and begin to feel disgusted. It can't be an eye for an eye no matter how much it might work for immediate problems. I can't feel this way. I was taught tolerance when I was growing up. I was taught to forgive. And yet I feel confused all the time when it comes to this subject. And why are we taught to destruct one another? All these wars have come from some deranged person's view on religion. It's like we have all been programmed in some way to kill each other - no matter what. And I want to forgive, but I feel like it's not right to do so at all at times. And I know it's not right for me to feel this way because it won't solve anything in the end. And yet it�s so fucking conflicting.

Moving on...

I made dinner for me on Sunday. I felt like eating good meal so instead of ordering food out like my family always seems to do on Sunday nights I cooked. It was very good and I am getting better with every attempt I do. I watched Alias and The Practice after too. I then laid out the clothes that I was going to wear for today because I'm anal like that and I'd rather take my time out yesterday night than do it in a hurry this morning. This way I got to do a few other things like check my email and put on some make up. It's the small things that make my day - I assure you.

So nothing like walking to work and passing by what can only be an MTV set. On a cold February morning there�s nothing like seeing plastic palm trees and lifeguard seats in the middle of a bustling Times Square. It�s abnormal if you ask me, but so goes the media machine we all call MTV. I�d much rather see the naked cowboy every morning as I pass him by and he sings a song with a smile and a nod of his cowboy head then to watch stuff get set up for some poor schmoe at MTV. Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Although I should state right now that if your in the Times Square area or near it you should come on down because there�s this great big store front window here and behind it there�s this guy hanging by hooks from his skin. It�s a sight to see and something most tourists freak out about and yet somehow every New Yorker that passes it by rolls its eyes and walks straight on. I think it�s humorous. Some idiot is hanging by his skin to get paid. It�s amazing how many freaky people there are out there. But hey everyone�s entitled to what they wanna do so more power to the freaky hanging guy.

Yep I think I�m done. I�m cranky, it�s Monday morning, and to top it all off I�m surfing the crimson wave so yeah, I�m done.



p r e v i o u s // n e x t