The daily adventures and travails of one neurotic, klutzy, hungry, cynical college girl. Tune in for prizes! (offer void where prohibited. See office for details. Not responsible for lost articles.)
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Saturday, April 05, 2003
Eric's mom got me this poster from 1905 that describes how bad college is for girls. It includes the "evils of dormitory life" and the "forming of unladylike habits" such as smoking, card playing, or speaking to male students without proper introduction and chaperone. Wow. Immediately, it reminded me of that email I got last year. It was a page from high school home ec. It directed girls on how to treat their husbands. For instance, a wife should have fresh dinner waiting when the man comes home from work. She should also refrain from nagging or acting angry/sad. The man's been working hard all day, he doesn't want to come home to an unhappy wife or worse, chores. Barfy McBarferson. And you wonder why I plan never to marry. I'm thinking of just opening a hippie shack for free love and communal lifestyle.
Party last night was funny. Jacob was already sloshed, I could tell. There was a couple with one of the peace pipe looking thingies. She looked straight at me and asked if I wanted a hit. How could I refuse such an offer? I didn't feel a thing, as usual. Maybe I will tonight, due to residual high.
So, at work, apparently we had a program dealing with euthanasia. I had more than a few viewers asking for the doctor's number. The doctor from the program, who believed in legalizing death by choice. Look, I'm pretty sure I'm pro-euthanasia, with a few added restrictions. But this one viewer called for the doctor's number, so he could help her out... Get it? Scary. I had no choice but to add it to the database, along with her address and phone number. Erf.
Does anyone else fucking HATE pop ups? The internet has become ridiculously crammed with ads. If there were an internet provider that had NO ads, I'd sign up immediately. I feel like I'm playing a video game, clicking away the stupid pop-ups. Bam! Bam! Bam!
You know, keeping a public journal makes me feel obligated to be interesting every time I type. Too bad for you guys, I've got so much to give. I'm always trying to come up with clever ideas or comments. It's hard work, like a conversation that WON'T end. Here's my word for the day: shi shi. It's the asian mother's way of telling her kids to go pee. "Shi shi!" Even saying it makes me want to pee. Classical conditioning.
12:34 PM
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