January 7th, 2008
|06:51 pm - Oh yes...|
I have a few new goals for myself:
1. I start Bally's on Wednesday......
2. I am quitting drinking. After this weekend, no more fucking boozer nights. I don't like making an ass out of myself, regardless if it's my birthday or not.
3. I'm not hanging out with anyone for the next two weeks. I'm over caring about people, caring about things that aren't important, and I've noticed that people just get in my way of actually doing things.
How many nights have I spent with him when I could've been doing other shit?
Current Mood: angsty.
December 30th, 2007
|05:54 am - Oh lordie...|
I began work a little over a week ago at a high-end fetish shop in the nice part of the city. Basically, it's insane working there and I've learned so much interesting stuff. Plus, I've grown as a person in that short stint of time... try saying with an honest face that this latex rubber gag with the penis attachment is top of the line and can endure only the most extreme situations.
So I think this will be a great job to document.... starting, now:
Today I get a call from a man. Conversation goes as this:
Freak: I have a sort of embarrassing question... is there any male staff available?
Me: No, sorry, only females here today, but I would be more than happy to answer any questions you may have.
Freak: Um, well... I was at the doctor's and he put his finger up to check my prostate gland, and I came. Then I got hard right afterwards. He said it wasn't normal, is it?
Me: Well, it's a common reaction. Is there anything I can help you with?
Freak: I can't figure out how to achieve that same feeling... are there any toys to do that?
Me: Are you able to go onto a computer? We have an extensive website...
Freak: No, sorry. He just like put his finger up there with a little condom...
Me: Um, okay. We have the Aneros....
Freak: How is that designed?
so I pass it off to my co-worker who is a neurotic Irish spinster and has a filthier mouth than the bottom of the Charles River... she gives him some information and quickly rushes off the phone...
Neurotic: That was a fucking jerk-off prank call. The motherfucker was fucking jerking his goddamn dick off to our voices. Ain't that some fucking shit? N****R shit if you ask me... (she's also a blatant racist, spouting off that word in an almost hourly routine)
Me: Oh jesus.....
needless to say, I ran outside with the quickness of a fox and searched for the nearest comfort food available... only to find a bottle of patron that the owner had left for me (she's a crazy but amazingly awesome lady)
later on today....
This man walks in, looks a little sketched... like keeps running around, thumbing through all the latex and rubber clothing. Long-story, short: he ends up buying $1,340 worth of latex gimp wear... this being a photo of a full ensemble for you newbs:
He couldn't keep eye contact, he let me up-sale him, he wanted complete discretion, and he was pacey. Oh, I love love love submissive men. They're so weird. As for the dominating "masters" that come in, fuck off. When I say,"if there's anything I can help you with today?" don't be a dick and say,"If I need help, I'll talk to you." in your sheepishly condescending way.
Anyways, there's my rant for the day.
If I win the lottery, he'll marry me. I think I need to start playing.
Current Mood: stressed
December 12th, 2007
|02:35 am - Dear lover:|
After this weekend in Vegas, I've realized something: you're breaking the barriers that three ex-boyfriends so meticulously created. Knowing that there's someone out there who has been familiar since the moment I laid eyes on your smile, really gives me the feeling of belonging and warmth.
As for tonight, I sleep alone, but I know I have a whole lot to look forward to when I know that I have you.
Current Location: home
Current Mood: grateful
September 17th, 2007
|11:17 am - Mama, where's your little daughter?|
First rule is: The laws of Germany
Second rule is: Be nice to mommy
Third rule is: Don't talk to commies
Fourth rule is: Eat kosher salamis
Working in a bar ages you approx an extra year per month. People tend to push every insecurity you have, and create new ones. I've never been a lesbian, nor have I ever really had a strong desire to become one, but for some reason when normal girls get wasted they come to me for affection and attention. I'm nice so I let them invade my personal space, but I'm not comfortable with it at all. How do you tell the bride-to-be of a 14 person bachelorette party that you're not okay with her using you as a stripper pole? ergh. I need a real job again....
I like the place that I live now. It's quiet. Lots of time for reflecting and studying, less distractions from the city. Such as him. I miss him, but it's probably for the best that we become separated by a larger mass. People around here are quite nosy and talkative, which I know I enjoy. Makes me feel like I'm back home, or at least home, and to have that in Massachusetts is a feat in it's own.
I keep having vivid dreams of negative things. Such as my car having a boot on it, my good friend coming in and yelling at me, having sex with G.O.B. from Arrested Development... actually, that was pretty amusing, but uncomfortable nonetheless. I guess I have a lot of my mind.
Why do men promise you things and talk a big game? Don't they know that if they just shut up and never said those things, we wouldn't have such high expectations? Don't tell me you want me to stay in Mass if you don't plan on having me in your life. Don't tell me we're a dysfunctional but perfect for each other couple if you can't commit to discussing our problems. Don't promise me you'll wait for me, when you don't. I'm great at being non-commital, just don't pretend like we'll be more if we won't. That's when you involve emotions. That's when you hurt.
I know I haven't updated in 12 weeks, I just sometimes need someone to listen and not tell me what their opinion is. Support from a blank screen is sometimes much more comforting than that of a face with impatience and concern. Thank you, dear computer.
Current Mood: discontent
Current Music: The Ramones
May 13th, 2007
I hate maturing. I hate looking back and seeing all the mistakes even more. I'm sorry world.