Saturday, June 15, 2002

Well hello there... It's 9:08pm EST here in this little corner of commercialized suburbia I like to call Shitsville.
Thoughts of the day, brought to you by Elisa Miceli, new improved model Version 4.2.

- People complain far to much, about the most assinign things. For example, today, at cash a woman was actually complaining about the fact that Shoppers Drug mart carried coffee ONLY for this weeks flyer special. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shout in her face, "Look HAG, the coffee is priced 4 dollars, thats RIGHT 4 fucking dollars CHEEPER than it is in the GROCERY store next door, you didn't have to WALK far from the grocery store to come and get your $1.49 fucking Maxwell house coffee so can it and get the fuck out of the store." But I simply said as I smiled as sweetly as I could, "I don't know why this Shoppers Drug Mart doesn't carry this product on a regular basis, all I know is we carry it right now because it's a good value, would you like to speak to the manager on this issue?".

- People are lazy fuckers. I'm standing in the pouring rain, cart full of grocerys for my crippled aunt who lives in the basement and the cab driver *shouted* At me from his rolled down window, "You're a big girl, you can handle those on your own." I laughed and said, "You're fucking right, I can. And I can also tell you that you just wasted your time, I'm calling someone else". Like where do these people come from, where were they raised? Jesus Christ on a cracker.

- No one understands me. Why? Well I'm a good looking girl, granted I'm by far not a super model and I could loose a million and ten pounds but I can make myself look great on a good day. And because of this, people assume I'm a girly girl who wears frilly pink undies and waltzes around in a continual state of bliss. People act surprised or down right shit themselves when I tell them I read comic books, love star wars and would kill to have met Tolkien or have a coffee with author William Gibson. Or when I tell them I idolize the likes of Henry Rollins not because he's a rock star, but because he's an intelligent mofo. When I tell them I can type so many words per minute or I know a little about a computer. Its like I've slapped them somedays. But you know what? I kind of like it at the same time... I can laugh inside and say, "You silly mother fucker, what fucking planet do you -live- in pray tell? A world where women are all catholic, just short of being nuns and men are lawn-cutting, golf-playing, polo-shirt wearing workers who roll in the dough?" Phishaw!

- People are to damn serious. I got told recently by my boss that I should let people know when I'm joking from now on, people can't handle my sarcasm and little quips... Hello? What do you mean let them know? You're telling me when I say, "Emma, I hate to tell you this, but you can't work because of your rather large pussing pimple." That I should state, "Haw haw, kidding!" Not that the above statement was something I said, I'm a little better when it isn't thought out, but you know? If I say something ridiculously stupid, how braindead are you not to relise I'm joking?

- Anime is the root of all evil. Christ, hello Kitty was large when I was a child, but that was just the beginning... Pokemon, Digimon, Gundam, Dragon balls Z. It's gotten out of hand people! Anime is become to mainstream, it will LOSE the appeal soon. Trust me, its the way of all things. Amerian culture makes it so, you bring something unique, interesting, different into America and it bloody well EATS it. I enjoyed it all before the likes of all this sudden flow of japanese style cartoons started sprouting all over the place. I have to admitt, I'm kind of hooked on Yu-Gi-Oh and Card Captors now... *Sigh* I'm compleatly hypocritical, but that's okay, so's the entire fucking population, why should I be DIFFERENT?! *grins*

- Making the -right- eye contact will win em over every fucking time. I used to look away from people, I would bow my head, never look into their eyes. But now.. Whoa, look out, I'm starin you down and out baby. I find it works wonders on upper management. Just when they think you've pulled down your pants and applied the lube so they can fuck you in the ass, just stare at em in a compleatly serious mannor but a -firm- manor and they're suddenly normal people. It's all about the confidence... Get some.

Thats all for now, I have to go take out some sexual frustration and I know just the man.

Thursday, June 13, 2002

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Good day/night ladies and gentlemen...

A day like any other, bouts of depression, drops of clarity and slaps of reality. So I have this problem, right? I'm in debt, not a huge amount, but enough to ruin my credit history. And I have this ex-husband now living half way across the world who says he still wants to 'talk' and "keep in touch" with me but has show little to NO attempts at doing either since we last "talked" or rather, shall I say the day he decided I wasn't good enough for him anymore. Sorry, am I sounding bitter? I didn't want to be, I wanted to love him until the day I died, but its really hard when he spends his entire fucking life playing to his own fucking needs and getting back into the thing that -helped- split us up. So, excuse me if I sound absolutly positivly fucking -pissed-.

He denies having another woman, but I don't know... I think he's possibly toyed with the idea for a while, after all I am a heap of fat, ever since I met him I have been. So I know he chats with this chick, this one chick... I don't know about what, and I don't know why I should even care, save for the fact that I still love the asshole. But what can I do?

I woke up this morning at about 6am, sweating, cold shivers and crying the hardest I've cried since the day my ex left me. I had this dream... this horrible fucking dream. You see, I've been arguing with my father who's been one of those "I'll be your dad when it's convieniant for me, and me only" kind of fathers. And its been that since the day I was born, so it isn't all that surprising when he makes plans and cancels them the day they're supposed to happen. Anyway, in the dream, we were having this furocious arguement about him never being there when I needed him (yeah, cliche kind of life I have) then this chick walks up out of the blue and stabs him several times in the stomach. All I can really remember is the look of sheer agony and terror on his face... how wide his eyes were, how sad they looked up at me as he fell to the floor. The blood was so red it was shocking, seeping through his fingers as he clutched his stomach. I remember holding him to me and wailing for him, telling him I was sorry for being angry and how much I loved him. He kept murmering he wasn't ready to die, he needed more time... he loved me. When he had finally passed away I hoisted his bloody body into my arms and dragged him outside to the deck and craddled him, rocking him back and forth. God it was the most excruciating dream I've ever had. It's still giving me shivers.

When I finally got back to sleep I dreamed a nicer dream...

Now I'm at home, kicking back with several ice cold spiked lemonades (Beer and citrus) and chilling out to my collection of MP3's. I plan to sit here until 2am or a little after, just so I can talk to this friend of mine... Who I havn't really stopped thinking about for a few days.

Good night!

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

Ho hum, so continues my life... Today... Today I hate myself. I spent last night up, no sleep, nada... All because of something I left at work. I wrote a letter to a friend, and I didn't want anyone at work to read it because it would most likely end up thrown in my face at what an actually loser I am. So I left my house at 7:30am, rushed into a cab and snagged said letter, I'm -hoping- no one read it. But I don't think I'll know for sure. I came home and crashed for 6 hours, now I have this massive head ache and I'm listening to Buzz Poets - Angel eyes, a song someone recommended to me a while back.

I fucked up my diet again today, I really hate myself... *sigh* I need to get some will power or -something-, christ I have all the fucking modivation in the world, so that can't be the problem. I _WILL DO THIS. Starting now, damnit.

*twitch* So, anyway, I'm going to draw a character up for this roleplaying thing I do and I'll prolly kick around the net for an hour or two until I finally drift to sleep sometime during the early hours of the morning.

That is all.

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

Oh, and incidentally it reads Elisa Cook. Cook is NOT my last name it's -his-. I shall be changing this.
Well, urh... It's been like a month now and I havn't written anything, so much for my online diary deal sort of thing.
Alot has happend however, like the death of my unborn child, my up and coming divorce, moving back into my parents house, the debts I have up to my earlobes and well, my lack of friends a life... etc.

So my husband, he leaves me right, after 3 years of being married he tells me one evening, a day before I'm going to get all 4 wisdom teeth ripped out of my head... He tells me he wants to go home. Which of course is in Yorkshire, England. So I stop and think a moment... Home? Right, okay I accept that finally, so he's shipped off to 'home' 3 days later, I'm bleeding like a stuffed pig from the 4 gaping holes in my mouth at this point, practically off my rocker and doped up on pain meds. But its okay, he's leaving so we can have a better life together... He's leaving so we can -actually- both be legal in a country and raise a few kids etc. A month goes by, he basically fucking ignores me, right? The days get longer, a little less painful. I sleep alone for two, three weeks max in my little room, all my boxes are packed, stamped and ready to go into storage. I have my Computer, my bed and my tv to keep me company, oh, and my three cats and dog. So anyway, here I am a little worried at this point, he's being really distant...

I tell him three weeks after he left I had a miscarrige and after trying for 3 years to have his baby, I almost did. Little does he know I knew I was pregnant before he left, actually the day before he left.

Anyway, I look at it as a sign... Right? How the fuck else can I look at it?

So he finally grows some fucking balls and calls me (After I leave messages for him for 2 weeks) and breaks it off compleatly, tells me he loves me still and misses me and in the same god damn breath tells me its over. What a fucking *goof* I could have killed him. Not only does his parents, his friends and EVERYONE WE BOTH KNEW ONLINE know before I do, he's also been on the net every fucking god damn day since he left and he couldn't leave me -a- single e-mail. Can you belive it? Pfft, whatever.

So here's to you Ross from the U-fucking-K, I'm moving on with my life, finally. I don't have to put up with your irrational fucking morals and your cowardly ways. I don't have to tell you how fucking wonderful and smart you are anymore. I don't have to fake my orgasms, I don't have to suck you off anymore and pretend I fucking like it. Here's to you and your fucking new life, I hope she breaks your heart like you broke mine. I hope you relise in ten, twenty years from now how BIG you fucked up. I was -ready- Ross, I was ready finally to become a new person and you backed out. You cowardly shit.

Good fucking Night.
Testicles.