sexyville.

sometimes at work, i call witnesses. oft' times the phone numbers that people give are just wrong. either disconnected, or the wrong number, or non-existent or doughnut shops or chimney sweeps.
i spend a lot of time diligently excavating files and coaxing online databases for correct phone numbers.
yesterday i punched in a number to start call number 37 of the hour. i heard a ring. and then i heard something else. porn music. (bom chicka bom boaw). and then a sultry voice: "welcome to philadelphia's sexiest hotline. you are now entering sexyvillle...."
that's when i shrieked and hung up.
i blush a lot according to the paralegal in my office.

sad.

things that depress me:
-signs advertising for free jewish genetic disease testing
-headaches
-getting full before i want to be full

honk.

i honked my old volvo station wagon more times today than i have in my life.
i don't understand. green means go, right?

inke.

every once in a very long while i get these overwhelming cravings for a tattoo.
it starts as a dull throb and rises to an ache and then becomes frantic when i find that one that i want. but it leaves as quickly as it came once i really think of the horrible ranks of the badly tattooed. i take a deep breath, apply a temporary dinosaur tattoo, and obsess over dinner instead.

lunch.

baguette, st. andre triple cream cheese, steaz mint tea, chocolate chip cookie.

bestfast.

breakfast yum:
-passion fruit and pomegranate icelandic skyr yogurt
-my signature instant coffee concoction
-2 hefty spoonfuls of folgers instant coffee, 1 normal sized spoonful of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1 normal sized spoonful of sugar, hot water, milk, stir until yum

it's official.

i've run out of adult working clothes and worn the tips off of my 'smart black pumps'.
maturity is overrated and expensive.
i better buy some slacks and a pencil skirt.


boo.

training embarrassment.

when i sit on the train, i try not to stare.
it's rude and usually ends with me getting yelled at in spanish.
so i bring distractions. a book. an ipod. a cookie.
when i'm sitting under those nefarious lights in the three person seat, i slide over to let business men and hobos and business women and other forms of riff raff sit next to me.
recently i've been reading that book 'prep'. half a decade behind schedule, i know. but it was 50 cents at a book sale and written by a grad of my collegiate college.
i fold the cover to avoid being judged and end up seated next to a be-suited man reading 'eat, pray, love'.
we both fold the covers to our books. we both see the other's cover peeking out from the pages. we are both embarrassed to read the books we read.

but. there is a guy a few seats down reading 'act like a lady, think like a man'.
so it's all good.

squirt.

things that are funny:
-when the paralegal locks herself in the supply closet to use her breast pump
-when the annoying intern tries really hard to open a locked supply closet door

les robes.

want want want now please.

did you know?

i went to my local library a few days ago. they have come a long way since my years lost in the children's section, chewing on the corners of books about flying elephants and anthropomorphized apple pies. in days of yore, their book selection was most certainly championed above all other forms. the video section consisted almost entirely of barney tapes, several copies of all of the original star wars, and every jane austen adaptation ever made. cds and tapes? james taylor and frank sinatra (no complaints there, but perhaps a lack of diversity?). said collection was fine predating my teens.
but, they have come up in the ranks! new movies, new music... good music.
however, the best discovery was that you can take out up to 100 cds at a time (difficult with a 200 cd collection) and they load onto itunes!
this maybe be cheating the system a wee bit, but if they haven't prevented it yet, i will take advantage.
so, i welcome to my musical library some new talking heads, raconteurs, and the fratellis.
and as you know, i'm prone to bopping along to new music, so the bopping has commenced.

boom crack.

the only being more afraid of thunderstorms than me: my dog.

he just tried to climb into the fireplace out of fear.

uluck.

could there possibly be anything more hilarious in its hipster-osity than a handmade leather u-lock holster from etsy that you can wear on your handcut roadkill armadillo belt which is holding up your acid wash cut-offs while riding around on your neon fixie?
no. the answer is definitely no. absolutely awesome. but no.

job.

this week at summer internship of the collegiate variety take 2 i worked.
a lot.
work worky work work.


now i just need a real job that pays real money, as opposed to sheets of resume paper.
i would even take grocery store coupons at this point.

maybe i can walk someone's pet turtle.

heartburn.

possible causes:
-a delicious soft pretzel with homemade grainy honey mustard
-a scrumptious turkey bacon blt with avocado
-watching bad tv

rank rank goes the cow bell.

things that smell good:
-fresh mint ice cream
-my hair

things that smell bad:
-bags of dehydrated cow manure
-bags of hydrated cow manure

criminal tats.

best tattoos at the criminal justice center:
- a unicorn covering the bearer's entire foot
- a full black and white portrait of michael jackson on a man's calf, the top says "i'm bad" and the bottom reads "remember michael"

career success.

i like when people list their employment as : security officer/beautician.

the snort.

i always miss philadelphia when i'm forced to abandon her for another and far inferior p-town. i miss how tall the buildings are and people watching and the food and the atrocious accents and the heat from the sidewalks and the water ice.
however, i must admit that there is one aspect of this dear city that i can never love. that putrid sour stench that leaks from the stagnant piss puddles between sidewalks. it wrestles my nose and even manages to smell when i breathe through my mouth. it is some sort of mutant hot lemon oil flecked with all that reeks.
so, from now on, i will pace the city with bells on my fingers and plugs in my nose.