Playing House

Wreaked havoc in the bedroom today. No, silly, not with a partner — hell, not even with myself. I just decided to rearrange. See, I don’t clean just to clean. I have to revamp and clean along the way. Brilliant, eh? I’m allergic to dust, so it takes a lot for me to pull out a dustcloth, so I justify it by, um, moving shit. And Christ, does my back hurt.

The room looks the same. I have no “extra” storage, as the storage cubes for our complex are limited, and they smell like manure anyway. So my bedroom is the size of a large dorm room, and I have a pile of boxes and also four (or is it five?) hampers and baskets full of clean clothes (small closet — I had five closets at my old place, and gave away three closets’ worth of clothes to charity before I left).

One other painful move I made today was changing my cell phone number. Yes, I finally gave up the 412 (Pittsburgh) number. Now I’m a 571 (as AT&T ran out of 703 area codes). Will I ever learn this damn number? Oh well. At least G3 and a shitload of others are not privy to the new # — I only e-mailed it to my top 50 favorite friends and colleagues, and I realize now that I forgot quite a few more. 🙂

I’ve been listening to Bon Jovi all day. I just got two new double CDs in the mail that cost $50 — the albums are “Acoustica” and “The Jersey Syndicate.” Now that I have them in-hand, I have no doubt that they were bootlegged, but fuck it, I am a die-hard fan and could give a shit where they came from — as long as they’re bona-fide Bon Jovi, and they are. Thank god.

I found an old song on CD in my Bermuda Triangle (ahem, my room) today, written, arranged and performed by the staff choir at Two Strikes. The song isn’t nearly as annoying now as it used to be, when I had to hear it 100 times a day and had to be the one responsible for marketing that piece of shit. It’s a top-notch choir, with some of the best voices in the land. Unfortunately, the song goes nowhere. It’s nonsensical, has no beginning or end, and well, sticks in your head like pubic lice adheres to your underwear (NOT that I’d know THAT firsthand. …). I told Tiff that I’m gonna send that CD to “American Idol” and have them rip the shit out of it. Although, I can just SEE Her Royal Pretentiousness bitching out the judges, telling them that they’ve had more opportunities in life than she has, and who the hell do they think they are?!?! LOL. All in all, she’ll treat them like she treats her staff, and as much as I abhor my current organization’s leaders, well, it’s so GOOD to be away from HRP and her twisted family wreath! (And as far as I know, they STILL haven’t written another song! Heh heh. I was stupid when I worked there and arranged for us to use that fucking song as our “hold” music on the phones — Tiff, Susan and I learned early on to NEVER put each other on hold — it’s just cruel!!!)

Oooh, “Jay and Silent Bob” are on Showtime!!! Gotta run. …


Showtime sucks. There is no dialogue track for the movie — it’s just a “Bugs Bunny” type of soundtrack. Fuckers. I’m moving to TLC for “Trading Spaces.” 🙂 Gawd, my life is pathetic. I hate being broke and having to sit in the house on a weekend. Damn it all anyway. …

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