Funky Stuff

The problem with pantyhose – if I were to narrow it down to one single problem, or at least one single problem I am having today – would be that they cause your skirt to stick to your legs as you walk so that the skirt rides up and bunches together in the crotch area. (I hate the word crotch by the way, it just sounds slightly wrong). So yes, I could wear a slip I suppose – if I owned one – but do I really need another layer of clothing? It’s already underpants, pantyhose, skirt, is that not enough? In Florida. In August.

I didn’t go to my interview this morning because I am a punk. I rescheduled it for next Tuesday. I’m not sure why I did that, but at the time it seemed like a perfectly reasonable plan. Shrug, cough, whatev.

I also have been applying for jobs on the east coast (of Florida, as I am on the west coast, gulf side, whatever you want to call it, of Florida). It wouldn’t be a huge move, but it would be A move, and isn’t that what life is all about? At least my life is. September will be THREE years in Florida for me and that is just too unbelievable. No wonder I am in such a funk, I’ve never stayed anywhere that long.

Last night was spent in the underpants and tie section of Dullard’s. No excitement to report from those fun filled three hours as the underpants department is at the very back of the store, as I like to call it, the dead zone. Also known as the Department Where Time Stands Still. There was a little bit of excitement at around 7:49 when a shirt fell (or leapt?) to its death from the top of the sale shirt stack. Other than that, nothing. Tonight, back to Dullard’s – the collections department! It includes exciting labels like Perry Ellis, Claiborne, Mondo DiMarco, Murano and Contigo. Oh the excitement is building just thinking about it. Be prepared for an action packed update tomorrow.

I paid $2.49 for a 4 ounce box of wheat thins at the gas station this morning. Also bought three bottles of diet coke. I am set for the day.

For some reason, I decided to let the dog sleep in my room last night, which I never do. And will never do again after last night. It all started off well, he jumped up on the bed and went right to sleep. At around 3:00 in the morning, he decided it would be a good and wise idea to start leaping over me. Shoot. I kicked him out. Then he started ramming his giant doggie head against my door wanting back in. I thought well maybe he needs to go to the bathroom, so I let him out at 3:30 in the morning. He didn’t need to go. He did however need to run in giant circles and refuse to come in the house for 15 minutes. Just as I was ready to leave him, he runs back in the house and collapses on the tile floor. I guess if you’ve got to run out the sillies at 3:30 a.m., then you’ve got to run them out.

This song called “Give it to Me Baby” by Rick James that they play frequently at Dullard’s is really a perverted little song. He’s all singing about how he comes home drunk and his girlfriend is fast asleep and she wouldn’t “give it to him”. Dude, she’s sleeping and you’re drunk, probably smelling of strippers and booze, get a grip. He says wait till I squeeze you and then maybe you’ll start “groovin’” Yeah, right. Let the girl get some sleep already. Then there’s this disturbing line: “Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff”.

2005-08-11 at 10:34 a.m.