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Mental Enema or Vain Glory?

Issue Date: Thursday, Mar. 04, 2004

For those of you playing the home game and have an understanding of Kim [if not� you can get caught up here and here] Mister and I have yet to use the phone number he gave to ex-Co-Worker C.

For the most part that little printed out email has been sitting next to the home computer since the day I got it. Unused and forgotten.

I noticed it this morning when I went to put a receipt in the envelope for bank account reconciliation.

I haven�t called, and I don�t think Mister has, but I did have a dream about Kim last night. It wasn�t very flattering either. Actually it was more likely this morning that I had the dream and Gomer* made an appearance as well.

*This entry doesn�t show up on my archives page� I wonder why. Hmmm

I swear, it is attack of the ex-boyfriends. My subconscious is purging something fierce.

The dream itself wasn�t all that bad. Kim and I had apparently gone to some sort of reunion or fundraiser or something for this family that seemed on the edge of poverty. I was sitting on the end of a picnic table with Kim to my left. I was talking to this woman who [forgive me] looked like the southbound end of a northbound mule. She made Charlize Theron look hot in Monster. All scrawny and underfed with that premature female pattern baldness going on with her freckly self.

I have nothing against freckles, I promise, as I am one of the freckled myself� but on her it just looked like bad sun damage and poor hygiene. Yanno?

Anyway, I turn to see who is trying to tap me on the left shoulder, thinking that Kim had to tell me something. So, I turn and see that Gomer is trying to reach around Kim to � I don�t know� stroke my back or something. Kim and Gomer are doing that whole �You�re on my siiiiiiiiiiide!!� �Nooooo� you�re on myyyyyyy side!� little kid thing with one of them trying to touch me, and the other trying to prevent it.

The Monster lady got all deer in the headlights and shot a look at Gomer who I guess was her husband. Who knew?

I was just so tired [seems to be a recurring theme aye?] and I wanted a nap so badly that I asked Kim if I could just crash in the extra bedroom at his home/trailer. He said sure and led me into this pit of a room with a broken waterbed, dried up caulk tubes with one rusted out caulk gun and cat vomit on the carpet and the sheets.

Um� Ew.

I woke up.

So, either I am so incredibly vain and arrogant that I think that these men [neither of which I want to have anything to do with] should be bickering over me� or I am afraid of cat vomit and trailer trash.

I vote for the cat vomit and trailer trash. All in favor? Say aye.

AYE!


Let�s talk about the virtues of Mister. He so rocks my world daily. He found out yesterday that a job offer is in the works for him. His ginormous brain has garnered the attention of a company that works for a very wealthy and benevolent benefactor. His talent and drive have once again bitch slapped the standard rise up the corporate ladder as he engineered a virtual corporate elevator to fly upwards and onwards!

Poorly Used Metaphor: *tap-tap-tap* Um, excuse me?

Me: Yes?

Poorly Used Metaphor: You�ve got to be kidding. �virtual corporate elevator�??? Come ON!

Me: Look, it�s the best I can do� I�m tired� and my �

Poorly Used Metaphor: Don�t tell me� Your uterus dictated that you butcher the English language and all that?

Me: Well, no. I�m just lazy and I can�t really get into all the righteous stuff Mister has done because the offer letter isn�t in his paws yet.

Poorly Used Metaphor: Fine, but look missy, just be careful with poorly used metaphors, they can become a habit.

Me: No kidding, check out my essays from my Senior Lit class�

Poorly Used Metaphor: *snort* Heh� those did suck.

Annnyway. So yeah, Mister has an offer on the table to join a company where he could work from home, garner an amazing pay raise, have three weeks of vacation and have some righteous health insurance. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay Mister!!!!!!!


I had a strange moment of �no shit!�-i-ness yesterday when my coworker said, and I�m not kidding, �Well, you look great. It really looks like you�ve lost some weight.�

:: jaw drop ::

A comment coming from her really floored me since she�s all, �I have to go train tonight before I go out on the town.� Yep, she�s a Size 6. She�s a tiny little cute thing with ginormahuge blue eyes and pretty little dainty hands.

I want to believe her.

I also want to eschew the common standards and revel in my chubby, round, Rubenesque goddess-like proportions.

Who knows which neurosis will win out?

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby�s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, �my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.�

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.


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