My true fairy tale …

March 8th, 2003, 8:32 PM by Goddess

10 minutes ago, he saw me

He looked up when I walked through the door

My head started reeling, he gave me the feeling

The room had no ceiling or floor. …

cinderella

You Get Off on Cinderella!

You’re not sure why, but the idea of being a servant (or owning one) turns you on:

Nothing like French maids, English butlers, and German discipline!

Who cares whether ’tis better to serve or be served?

Either way you can’t wait to get down and wear the wax off that kitchen floor.

Don’t worry though, the clean freak in you will start scrubbing immediately afterwards.

Once a germophobe, always a germophobe.

What Fairy Tale Gets *You* Off?

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Dental damn

March 8th, 2003, 1:22 PM by Goddess

Rejected headline: ‘Theater of Pain’

Left dentist’s office after two solid hours in absolute tears. Not that the procedure hurt all that much, but when I found out all the out-of-pocket expenses will be in the several-hundred-dollar range for just this month’s work. I cried for a solid hour. It’s bad enough that my job pays me shit and that I worked till 9:30 last night because they won’t hire anyone to help me until late April. It’s bad enough that no matter how hard I work at this job, I will never earn enough money to afford to pay my rent, car and student loan without having to juggle other expenses such as utilities and necessitites. Then, throw on top of it all the dental work I need … and my plan covers 50 percent of the work (and then there was a charge for $475 today that insurance won’t cover at all).

Well, my novocaine just wore off. I need to into hiding for awhile. I just came into work to catch up, but I think I’m going to take my raccoon eyes home and just hope to feel better. Damn it all to hell.

Update

Tooth. Hurts. Like. Hell. I have some Vicodin left over from the last time I had a root canal done on that tooth, thankfully. (Today’s dentist ripped out the old packing, re-packed it, built it up so that it would support a crown, and is having me return on Friday to not only put the crown on it, but to extract the neighboring wisdom teeth, as they are putting undue pressure on my back teeth).

After bursting into tears at the dentist’s office, they agreed to charge me in installments for this month’s dental business — right now the conservative estimate is $500 but could go as high as $1,000, depending on the insurance company. I told the receptionist that I’d fare better if I quit my job, got on welfare and got a Medicaid card, rather than working for a living and suffering through bad wages and an even worse health plan.

My temporary raise at work is drawing to an end, and Shan had advised me to do something significant with the money (she had wanted me to purchase a new computer with it). Seems the significant purchase is saving my teeth, which is obviously more sensical than getting a computer. But what compounded my hysterial today was that I was just turned down for a computer loan — seems they’re not impressed that I defaulted on my college loan. ๐Ÿ™‚ Wonder why that would bother them? ๐Ÿ˜‰

Found a job I want to apply for. I made it through the interviews at work and am going into the second round on Wednesday. I also get to interview the other two candidates (!). It’s odd that I get to see not only the competition, but also their resumes and what not. This should be interesting. The other job I want to apply for pays $20K more than I’m making now. If by some grace of god I get the job at the Veggie Patch, I plan to use the other job prospect as leverage. Wish me luck on the other one — I think quite honestly that I’d like it better. And damn it, I hope their dental plan is better!



"Hands Clean"

March 7th, 2003, 8:05 PM by Goddess

Found myself missing him today.

If it weren’t for your maturity none of this would have happened

If you weren’t so wise beyond your years I would’ve been able to control myself

If it weren’t for my attention you wouldn’t have been successful and

If it weren’t for me you would never have amounted to very much

Ooh this could be messy

But you don’t seem to mind

Ooh don’t go telling everybody

And overlook this supposed crime

We’ll fast forward to a few years later

And no one knows except the both of us

And I have honored your request for silence

And you’ve washed your hands clean of this

You’re essentially an employee and I like you having to depend on me

You’re kind of my protege and one day you’ll say you learned all you know from me

I know you depend on me like a young thing would to a guardian

I know you sexualize me like a young thing would and I think I like it

Ooh this could get messy

But you don’t seem to mind

Ooh don’t go telling everybody

And overlook this supposed crime

We’ll fast forward to a few years later

And no one knows except the both of us

And I have honored your request for silence

And you’ve washed your hands clean of this

what part of our history’s reinvented and under rug swept?

what part of your memory is selective and tends to forget?

what with this distance it seems so obvious?

Just make sure you don’t tell on me especially to members of your family

We best keep this to ourselves and not tell any members of our inner posse

I wish I could tell the world cuz you’re such a pretty thing when you’re done up properly

I might want to marry you one day if you watch that weight and keep your firm body

Ooh this could be messy and

Ooh I don’t seem to mind

Ooh don’t go telling everybody

And overlook this supposed crime



< Panic attack >

March 7th, 2003, 6:28 PM by Goddess

We’re about to go to war, and I’m about to hop a plane to go across the country. Here’s to hoping that no turban-types are going to try to hijack planes again. < / panic attack >

Too bad I’ll be chained to the Anaheim convention center all day and won’t be doing anything touristy. ๐Ÿ™



Friday Five

March 7th, 2003, 9:32 AM by Goddess

1. What was the last song you heard?

Matchbox Twenty, “Bed of Lies”

2. What were the last two movies you saw?

In theaters: “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” “Daredevil”

At home: “Unfaithful” and “Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood”

3. What were the last three things you purchased?

A pack of cigarettes, some Arizona iced tea, and a sandwich at Subway

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?

Hug the cat, turn on the oven, seal the exits and light a match. …

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?

My Hero (former boss), CR (former colleague/muse), Susan, my mom, Shan.



Friday!

March 7th, 2003, 8:18 AM by Goddess

This makes me need to change my underwear. …



‘To the mattresses!!!’

March 6th, 2003, 11:23 PM by Goddess

Any victims — male or female — of the “Lysistrata Project” may feel free to invite me to act as a stand-in. Or sit-in. Or whatever position you’d prefer. ๐Ÿ˜‰



Unveiled

March 6th, 2003, 10:55 PM by Goddess

From the “Awww, I feel so bad! Not!!!” files, Muslims must bare head in passports.

Look, if I can’t wear a hat and have a beer bottle in my driver’s license photo (in what would be a true depiction of me, were I ever pulled over for a DUI), then ain’t nobody should be wearin’ veils and turbans and shit in their official photos. While we’re at it, though, can we also mandate that they wear deodorant? I am not looking forward to getting on a plane this month anyway, and I doubt everyone on board will be able to “raise their hands if they’re Sure!”



If I were a cocktail instead of a cockpit. …

March 5th, 2003, 11:53 PM by Goddess
screaming orgasm

An unexpected bonus for just about every guy on the planet.

Heโ€™s plowing you and youโ€™re yelling for more.

Talk dirty, talk cheap, scream his name, scream complete gibberish. No matter.

You are the Mariah Carey of the bedroom and he loves every fucking syllable that spews from your luscious mouth.

Maybe youโ€™re the “Mary the Librarian” type by day.

But by night, honey, watch out.

The vocal chords let loose with everything your heart and mind have been thinking about all day long.

What Cocktail Are You?

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Here’s the story …

March 5th, 2003, 1:40 PM by Goddess

Rejected headline: Poetic justice

In exchange for being alleviated of one responsibility at our upcoming covention in California, I have to interview/photograph the middle brother from “The Brady Bunch.”

Kill me.