dude, janelle looks like a perverted pedophile in her new picture.

an old man who looks 12 and goes to disneyland to prey on little boys/girls.

It's an ironic picture, because she probably didn't mean to do that.

Ugly Betty was filming on 23/26 street tonight. I didn't see America Ferrera though, who could have been my connection to Blake Lively...

Are you rushing people yet?

Are you drunk?

I'm not.

My bartender today was really gorgeous. I talked to her about her tattoo.

I need to find a new line for girls from Maine. I think I talk about lobsters too much, which is retarded. I mean, who the fuck cares about lobsters? Me. But no one else. And blah blah blah.

You know what's fucked up? Sean, Ben, Max, Esmond, and Chris (pretty much all my guy friends) have girlfriends. THIS IS THE ONLY TIME THIS HAS EVER HAPPENED. I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN'T. ISN'T THAT FUCKED UP? THAT'S RIDICULOUS.

wHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE? STOP TALKING TO ME.

Now, let us notice a few things (other than the fact that the message ironically answers the question as to why I may be single). One, I have incredible spelling even while I'm drunk. And two, this message probably would have never happened had Mail Goggles - Gmail's new feature against intoxicated messages - existed.

Mail Goggles kicks in on weekend nights and forces you to answer a few math questions before allowing the message to be sent. Now, if only they could do this for drunk dials...

"YOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Thank you for calling You-Are-An-Idiot-For-Drunk-Dialing-Since-I-Have-Work-In-The-Morning. This message is being recorded. How may I help you? Homosayswhat!"

"What?"

Then they get sent that message at 7AM to wake their bitch asses up mid-hangover.

THIS BLOP GHOST IS DEDICATED TO MY BEST MYSPACE FRIEND EVER, WHOSE BIRTHDAY IS...RIGHT NOW. yup.

two things:

1. i am an official firefox convert/addict. respect.

2. whaaaaaaaaaaa scary scary help me mommy where's my juicebox?!: http://www.scaryforkids.com/kuchisake-onna/

i'd post a comment about how freaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaky that shit is but apparently i don't exist to that bitch. crycrycry.

i promise i'll post tomorrow, *whoever reads this piece of shit here*.

Betsy Bitch has joined recently reformed L.A. glam metallers Witch (remember names Punky Peru and Peter Wabbit?). IT should be an interesting combo of 80s metal sleaze. See how it goes.

SHE IS A BIIITTTCCCHHH!!!
So, tonight she is dragging us to the planetarium to see a show on Ptolemy and some other astronomers, but I don't want to go. I think I should have the choice whether or not I go, but instead my mom is insisting upon this "mandatory fun." Mandatory fun my ASS!

>=[

And she won't let me on the phone - for NO REASON! We just got back from the chiropractor and I was on the phone before we left, and she had said that when we got back I could call my friend back because I had had to hang up on them to go get adjusted, but now we come in and she lets me on the computer, not the phone?!

BITCH.

Also, we had a BIG fight on Friday night, when she exploded and called my brothers "little shits," so then I said something genius along the lines of, "Oh, well, I'm so sorry we are ignorant and insignificant little pieces of shit in your home; teach us how to be useful, oh wise one. We bow before your glory, your Majesty!"

She then proceeded to ground me.

I have found, however, that the best way to piss my mom off is to act nonchalant about her punishments. This does get you in more trouble, but her surprise and anger usually makes up for it. Therefor, when she said I was grounded, I said OK, very coolly indeed. Then she said I was grounded to my room with no phone. I replied the exact same way. Then she took away something else, but I was so bored I ended up shutting the door on her face, which I think made her just as mad as my inability to react to her punishments had.

Score!

But then again, I was grounded...

Oh well, that's the price you pay for having a bitchy mom - then again, that's not MY fault!!

She then yelled at me to go downstairs, get some soup, eat, and go to bed without watching Ironman with everyone, because every Friday we all watch a movie and eat ice-cream. So I went downstairs where I found her boyfriend, Dave, sitting at the table looking quite nervous (probably 'cause his girlfriend sounded like the raging lunatic she is upstairs), I got a bowl of soup, and as I reached for a roll on the table, my mom appeared, said, "No! Just soup!!!" and slapped my arm.

You know how in movies, when the main person gets hit or punched or whatever, and time just...slows down as they contemplate how to retaliate? It's like their mind speeds up to comprehend the situation, so they can act on their best impulse, not necessarily their first idea? Well, I must be a movie hero, 'cause time slowed down.

I then proceeded to elbow her above the boobs, in the chest, not super hard (and not nearly as hard as I wanted to) because that time of slow-mo had allowed me to think over if I really wanted to hit her and risk more trouble, but hard enough to get the message across that YOU DON'T HIT ME.

I then returned to my room and turned out all my lights (it was about 9pm, so it was all dark then) and sat out on the roof which I can climb onto from my window. It was cold out, so I got pretty numb, which was awesome (cause when you're pissed, losing feeling is kind of nice, you know?) and I listened to music. I also tried to call some people but they were all busy...

*sigh*

I stayed out there for two hours.

My mom came in eventually (but I don't know how, considering my door was locked and I'd stolen all the keys I could find...) came in and tried to apologize, at which point I turned around and told her she was NOT forgiven, and that I was really past the point of caring. Since she was already crying when she came in to try to get an apology and to blubber about how she'd had a bad day, she began to tear up even more.

Not to sound spiteful, but I hope it hurt, and I know it did - it cut her deep.

But hey, she deserved it. Call me a stupid malicious teenager - I don't care. She was out of line and, quite frankly, I don't care if she had had a bad day, that doesn't mean you take it out on ME!!!!!! AND YOU SURE AS HELL DON'T TRY TO GET ME TO COOPERATE OR BOW BEFORE YOU BY SLAPPING ME. That will only get you hurt.

Hurt A LOT.

...

Mhm.

So, long story and a bunch of words later, the jist of my weekend and beginning of this week comes to one sentence: SHOOT ME NOW!

~

Now I'll explain the title of the entry, and yes, it does have more relevance then just the violent feel of it, which is how it tied into my conflict with mother dearest.

My little brother Luke (age 10) is currently on a football team. This year he is doing tackle football, whereas last year he only did flag football, so this has been a big jump.

Luke isn't a really violent kid, nor does he complain a lot. Sure he does the normal, "but I have 2 more minutes on the X-Box!!!!" complaining thing, but he has a good understanding of what's important and what's not. Therefor, when he tells my mom to do something, like, oh say...email the coach so that the coach can speak to a little boy on Luke's team named Alex who has been calling Luke gay and a dick... (*hint hint*) then my mom knows it's real and serious, because Luke doesn't make those types of things up.

So when Luke came to her and said this, she said she would, but then...forgot.

Who woulda guessed it?!?!?!?!

(She's forgetful, by the way...in case you hadn't caught on...)

So here's how I was informed the football game went last night:

Luke was being teased by Alex, again, and finally got fed up with it. (Luke, for the record, also rarely handles things violently.) Luke proceeded to grab the front of Alex's face mask (they were both not being played at the moment, so this wasn't happening directly on the field, but more on the sidelines) and push him backwards hard enough to throw him off balance, but not to knock him over (because Luke knows how far he can and can't go, in terms of what will get him punished and such).

The dialogue that had finally killed Luke went something like this (condensed here for your reading ease):

Luke: "Why don't you just go cry to your daddy?!?!"

Alex: "Why don't you go cry to your daddy?!?!"

Luke: "I can't 'cause my dad's in Iraq!!!!!"

And Luke grabbed, Alex's face-mask, knocked him backwards a bit, and ran off the field and into the bleachers to sit with my mom and Dave.

On his way up he yelled to Alex, "well why don't you just GO TO HELL?!"

I would have PAID to see the looks on the other parents faces. I heard it was priceless.

Oh, another thing about Luke: When he's mad, he curses. Quite a bit, actually...

He also said, "Alex is such a BITCH!" to my mom when he was calming down on the bleachers a few minutes down.

My mom said a dad of another player had been coming over to help, it looked like, and when Luke semi-screamed "bitch," the dad turned around and sat back with his family!

Hahahaha...

Props to Luke for style!!!

As far as the "Iraq" comment goes, yes, my dad is currently in Iraq (out of harms way, for the most part) for the next 6-months. Luke isn't super close to my dad, 'cause my parents have been divorces since he was about 3 years old, but Luke truly cares about most people. Therefor, the Iraq thing and the fact that his dad is in a war zone has been REALLY worrying him. He's extremely concerned, and only time will let him know that Dad isn't going to get injured. This is why Alex's comment was the last straw.

Out of all my siblings, Luke and I, I think, deep down but still somewhere near the surface, are the most alike. We tend to think and react in about the same kind of way, so I'm closer to him in many ways, although it may not necessarily appear as such from an outside perspective, because Luke isn't just all, "GIMME A HUG!!" and such.

Anyway.

Because of our connection, I stand up more for Luke, and I understand him more than my mom and other siblings (and that is not an exaggeration - I DO know him at least as well as my mom, if not better). For this reason, instead of being like normal big sister, I'm very proud that Luke handled himself and his problems in a way that got his point across yet didn't inflict harm upon someone. He is very independent and I don't blame him for giving that kid what he had coming to him.

I probably don't sound like the smartest sister or the best semi-role model right now, but I don't care.

Honesty is my policy! (For this story at least...)

*Sigh* Sometimes I really love my little brother...

And that's my story of right now!

♥ Airolyn

From Nicole, who wants me to publish her story: XXX and OOO!

* * *

Have you ever, been betrayed by someone you loved so much? Someone you adored, who called and hung out with you everyday, whom you go everywhere with, who spent a lot of time actually listening to your love stories of despair because a man you care about just acts like he doesn't know your feelings.

Well I did, and I know how deep it cuts. Yesterday the truth hit me like a bomb and I just realized that I didn't even know who she is, anymore. That I could never trust her again. Could not ever.

I found Tara, my own so-called best friend, in bed with Tony. And she knows how I feel about him. Since months. Almost a year now. She exactly knows how I feel about Tony.

The most idiotic part about this was, that I actually bumped on their love affair by a coincidence. I wanted to drop a pair of shoes Tara wanted to borrow from me for a nightout, and it happened that I showed up about half an hour before the appointment, because I had to drive my sister to her friends' just after. And I didn't knock on the door. God knows that I never do - maybe I should get myself used to this new habit? Or should I not, because, had I knocked on Tara's door, never would I have learnt about all the betrayals. I had her apartment's spare key anyway, so whose fault that was? You should be more careful when you're backstabbing someone, you know. Especially your best friend.

Tara didn't even have a word to say when I entered the love scene. She was just too suprised I think, surprised that her game was over. I left as quickly as if I had entered a viral disease quarantine by accident and there had been no better thing to do than leaving as soon as possible - only the virus didn't attack my heart, it actually stabbed my heart and broke it into painful pieces.

She tried to call me about a 100 times yesterday, and tried to drop by this morning, even a guy from the city's flower shop called to ask if someone was home to sign a receipt for some stupid flowers from someone who left a message how sorry she was and that she never meant to and that friendship should get through obstacles and some other dumb stuff so long she must've paid a lot more to get them written (I asked him to tell me what the message said), but everything she does is just useless now. I can't be bought by anything. It's too late now.

I guess love is the worst thing in the world, because were there no love, I wouldn't feel this way. Yes you can say I'm a drama queen, but the thing is, it really hurts me in all the horrible ways.

I :

1. am (was) Tara's best friend, or at least I thought so.

2. have known her since the first day at junior high school, which would make it like 13 years.

3. lived with her 4 long and unforgettable college years in Brooklyn before we finished our studies and I got a job in Manhattan and had to quit the flat.

4. have been sharing her my affection for Tony ever since I got to know him.

5. introduced her to Tony so that I could have her opinions (which counted a lot for me) on him - now I'm screaming against the wall, God, why the hell did I???

She :

1. betrayed me.

2. betrayed me.

3. betrayed me.

4. betrayed me.

5. betrayed me.

The list could go on forever, but I'm not wasting my time to write it down!

To hell with Tony, I can't even care less now. But Tara is - or was - my best friend and she should've been the one who understood that this would be the lowest thing one could do to his/her best friends for years. My disappointment's come to a point where it even beats my anger towards her.

So, have you ever had any Tara's in your life?

-Nicole, Pratt, NYC-

It really just gets worse and worse.

That's your warning. *

--

Perhaps the reason why I'm anxious, frustrated, overwhelmed, and scared shitless is because I feel that I could lose greatly if I made a large amount of mistakes.

While I know that it would not be the end of the world, it would be a major setback.

Why did I go to school all these years?  To get a job... and to keep it/not get fired.

I couldn't wait to be done with school just so that I could work!

I'm a freakin' work-a-holic.

But for the first time -- I feel like it could slip beneath me, almost instantaneously.

There's a lot at stake.

I have this intense feeling that it's extremely easy to lose it.

The reason being because I'm not comfortable and confident in what I'm doing.

Yeah -- it takes time to learn, but from now until then -- is an excruciating period where I suffer from concern after concern.

I think too much.

I wear all my expressions on my face.

What I need to do is relax.

But to relax is -- to me, being careless.

I have trouble seeing the gray amidst black and white.

You either care or you don't.

You don't care -- less.

My work ethic is to care a whole lot so that what I do -- matters to me and benefits the firm.

When people tell me to relax, I can't... because I'm not sure how to do that.

I don't want to take a nonchalant attitude when I first start work.

I think it shows that I am not taking what I'm doing seriously.

And I would never want to give off that impression.

Perhaps when I'm comfortable doing the work that I do and have a close knit group of friends/co-workers, then can I find the gray and naturally -- relax (caring when it truly matters and having the work/life balance).

I know what this is.

This...I had at STCP (expectation...#9,130,048,088,309!).

But I fear that what I hope and expect for may be awhile.

In the meantime, I need to find ways to fool myself into relaxation.

Simply put, I work like this equation:

A + B = C

• A = Comfortable doing work
• B = Close knit group of co-worker friends
• C = Relaxation
• ...but I don't have any of those.

Instead, I can opt for something like this (less than ideal):

a + b = c

• a = makeshift_01
• b =makeshift_02
• c = forced relaxation (which helps alleviate stress and mistakes)

Right now, I feel like I have too much responsibility on my plate.  If I make a mistake, I'm the only one to take the blame.

It's a lot of pressure.

I don't want to be reprimanded.

I hate doing things incorrectly; I'm one of those that care.

I'm all about efficiency and precision.

I'm a perfectionist by nature.

And thus, I'm afraid of seeing myself fail.

That's the bottom line.

Failure -> Lack of self-confidence -> Hopeless.

I cannot ever feel hopeless in my job...

Because if I do, it means my skills aren't good enough, which means that when I'm trying my best, I'm still failing; meaning -- I can't do anything right.

So it all boils down to me being a failure in a huge aspect of my life.  One that I would pride myself in being pretty good at -- working.

If that day ever comes, I will probably drop off the face of this planet.

Expect that I will turn into a bitter, anti-social, hermit crab.

Sighs.

I've got nothing else.

I will get to peace within myself...somehow...one of the days.

If you are dating a Godly bitch, if you are married to a Godly bitch, you will never win an argument.  God has spoken to them, so they believe, and you are in the grasp of evil.  In fact, anything she does to hurt you is justified because you keep company with demons, devils and democrats.

Please be aware that there is no limit to the kind of damage a Godly bitch will seek to do to you.  There is nothing that is off limits.  You see, Godly bitches have no morals.  They simply have righteousness instead.  They are so convinced they are right, you will get nowhere discussing ethical behavior with them.

How to recognize a Godly bitch?  They smile like Palin, a kind of smirk that never goes away.

I got rid of a Godly bitch.  I used many of the techniques in my book.  I got out clean, with no leftover insanity.

If you have a Godly bitch in your life, make plans now to get away.  This kind of crazy does not get better.

So we are drinking heavily, eating greasy pizza and we start asking each other crazy questions. He asked me if he could piss on my face and slap the shit outta me. I asked him if I could tie him to the ceiling fan and shoot him with a paintball gun. Ummmm no and no. He asked me if he could handcuff me and tie me down. I said no and that he would probably throw away the key and leave me there a la SAW. I asked if I could handcuff him and he raises his left hand and we both laugh.

I could see a future for us (sometimes) complete with mortgage, crying infants and credit card debt. But why am I calling him Future X Husband? Do I love him? Do I care about him? Am I being faithful to him? No, I think and hell no. Maybe it's the anxiety I am feeling to be the person I never wanted to be: boring. I already told him that I need fireworks and vodka on a daily basis. I am talking drunk nights, swinger clubs, walks on South Beach and a few orgies. We already discussed my frivolous ways with the boys. Hence, the swingers club.

One thing I can say from all of this, it is crazy how honest we are with each other. We've been knowing each other for a few months (I know, crazy) and I am not afraid to be myself. Which includes cursing him out, being my ADD self, rambling on about nothing. He takes pictures of me on the toilet and calls me midget. I am 5'2. He's 6'3. He is my big, black warrior I always dreamed of. Tall, dark, handsome with incredibly white teeth. So what is it that I am afraid of?

He is already locking himself to me. Am I ready to lock myself with him?

First day in my new job went fairly well all considered. The best bit was getting to go home at 3:30pm but being paid till 5pm. Can't complain! So yeah, I'm quite happy with it all at the moment, but no doubt it won't last - either way, since it's only for five weeks.

My mother tells me she's,

"Tried to call eight times now & will try again later"

Now, surely she noted the eight right? Surely I'm not the only one who thinks that is ever so slightly erm...freakzone?

This is what she does. She'll call my mobile & if she doesn't get an answer, she'll call the house, then my mobile, then the house, then my mobile, mobile, mobile, mobile.

During my last therapy session, August of last year, I was somewhat delighted to have her try to contact me, just so I could show my therapist exactly what I have to deal with.

Thirty missed calls & that was on my cell alone.

It's fucking rich to have her hounding me on the phone whilst she's sat sunning her ass. Never mind that I was up at 6am this morning to go work. So yeah, she may well have phoned me 8 times but I was working & actually, I only recieved two notifications that she had phoned.

Besides, surely if you're psycho-phoning someone, you'd at least have the ability to leave a fucking voicemail?? Something she evidently doesn't think is necessary.

Ah, how I read her little black book of notes about me & my attitude & my

"Wasn't wearing any make-up & looked drab."

What, because I don't dye my hair blond & put makeup on with a trowel?

So not only does she think those things about her own daughter, says those things out right to her face but she also writes it all down. I must really have looked like shit that day I tell you.

Anyway, moan over.

I'm tired, my feet are sore & I have to be up at 6 in the morning so it's off to bed with me.

"I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

Chorus:
I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way"

This song reminds me of the movie "What Women Want" with Mel Gibson and Marisa Tomei.  Despite the shortcomings of this film, it cheers me up to think about it.  That's a good start to changing my outlook.  

I don't really hate the world, but I feel like I do when I wake up.  I know I'm in a bad mood when I make my coffee and stand next to the machine until the magical liquid is brewed.  I did that today. 

I couldn't face drinking any of that mild, pinon coffee today.  I ground up the stuff I usually use.  It. tastes. FANTASTIC!  I hate the world a little less already.  Also, I chose a mug in my favorite color, purple.  Then I sat down to enjoy my coffee, instead of starting in on a project and letting my coffee get cold and icky.  I do what I can to make the morning more bearable.

She´s so good with Millan. Tyler is as well. They respect the fact that Millan is no "cuddle-dog" - it has to be on her own terms. And they don´t yank her tail. I hate it when kids do that.

M is off to Haag and we are now five girls plus a bitch. Or five bitches plus a dog, depending on how you look at it. 

God help us. God help us all.

SCIENTOLOGY is quite likely the most ruthless, the most classically terroristic, the most litigious and the most lucrative cult the world has ever seen. No other cult extracts more money from its members.

-- Cynthia Kisser, former Executive Director, Cult Awareness Network.

At last count (March 2000), the Scientology "church" has from about 50,000 to 90,000 members (i.e. people willingly victimized by this crime syndicate) world-wide, with franchises in dozens of countries.

Their ex-victims number in the hundreds of thousands. The crime syndicate has hundreds of front-groups and organizations in the USA, which do not advertise their affiliation to the religious cult: people who would never have anything to do with a crime syndicate nevertheless unwittingly fund and support it, in all its guises. Their headquarters are in Clearwater, Florida, USA.

Terminator 3:Rise of the Machines

Mean Girls

Okay I'm going to really confuse you a little, and talk about my night. Yes, this goes with my beginning sentence, I have a point (I think)! So anyways, I always do things on Saturday with my girls (Joy and Jessi included). So of course, this Saturday would be no different! Joy, anymore, finds herself too busy with her 'friends' to hang out with us, so Jessi came over to my house and we chilled for a while (okay, we walked to Wal-Mart, what do you want from me?). Then Jessi recieved a text from Michaela (another friend of ours) saying she wanted to go to the movies. In between this, we had a little miscommunication, but we fixed it. Anyways, today we went to go see Nick and Norah's Infinate Playlist at like eight or something like that. I must say it's a pretty good movie (DON'T CHEW GUM THAT'S NOT YOURS!!lol) although I enjoy most movies I see, so I'm probably not the best person to take any movie advice from. After the movie I made a joke, since Jessi was chewing gum, and her friend Nicole didn't get it (she's apparantly a natural blonde). Then we went outside and Tyler said "Don't go behind the theatres." We both gave him a quizzical expression and he said "Joy and Sam went back there." Okay now first off, Joy's not old enough to be doing anything...well within that matter, so I was a little irritated at her for being so...slutty.  So I said "How stupid can you be to let Joy and her boyfriend go out back?" I personally wanted to go back there and beat the crap out of her stupid preppy face. Instead I decided to call her phone...no answer. Soon Logan's (she's a girl, not a boy) mom came and Joy was going home with Logan (since she lives across the street from her). So...we unfortunately had to go get Joy. Okay, now try to imagine Nicole, Jessi, Logan, Tyler, and me (with Michaela on the cell, she couldn't come) running to the back to go get Joy, and you'll know what happened. Okay there was a few James Bond jokes from Nicole as we went, but likewise we still went to go get her....but she came out with ALL her clothes on, but without her boyfriend. Now we all wanted to ask questions....and we did. All kinds of questions were asked, but there were brief answers. Now Joy says that nothing happened, that she was just being 'herself' and that he...well let's just say 'got happy'. She says that the were all fully dressed and she continued to blabber on for a few seconds (uh, I began to drone out the sound of her squeaky voice after a while) then the group of girls went home. When Jessi and I went up front Tyler and Sam were still out back...so, yea. We continued to talk about Joy and how slutty she is now until we got back to my house (where we are currently).

Back when I first met Joy she was nice, a little more outspoken than most should really be, and very easy to get along with. Since then she's become slutty, preppy, and too hard to even speak a sentence with let alone a conversation. I'm sure you don't honestly care, but I just felt like laying my feelings on the table (and hoping she reads this). So...try to avoid the outspoken people who seem nice and hang out with the once annoying people who are bound to eventually become nice (as Jessi is now). That's all I've got to say.

• 3 bailarinas (tipico das magrelas deslocadas socialmente)

• 10 carmens mirandas (tipico das aparecidas)

• 5 zé gotinhas (tipico de gordos)

• 1.654 odaliscas (tipico das periguetes (perigosas))

• 7.000 zorros (tipico dos' 'pega ninguem'')

• 12 mulheres gatos (tipico de tiazinhas encalhadas)

• 15 sambistas (tipico dos sem fantasia cachaceiros de plantão)

• 10.000.000 de irmaos metralhas (tipico de babacas sem criatividade e sem personalidade,se afaste!)

• 7 sereias tipo da infatil,bobona,sem papo,metida a sandy)

• 9 máscaras (tipico do nconveniente que paga de engraçado)

Enfim,tanta fantasia ridicula xente!
Por isso vamos dar dicas de algumas,poucas e elitizadas fantasias zuuuuuuuperrrrrr zenzazionais e modernas!

Fantasia 1: sustentabilidade
Tá na moda!todo mundo gosta!é pop! e você só precisa e um punhado de terra e uma mudinha!

Fantasia 2: vaca loca
Porque roupinha malhada e gemidos em 'muuuuuuuu''''' não tem luxo algum!

Fantasia 3: pin up morta-viva
Porque vestir de marylin monroe já era!

Fantasia 4:Surtada careca do pop
Vestir de moça sexy,christina aguilera todas querem,dúvido que alguém vá igual a você na festa de surtada careca do pop!

FIKDIK

BJUSSEJAORIGINALMELIGA!

There's uncertainty in the air.

It's the end of week three.  To recap, my first week of work -- so strange to not say 'school' -- I worked on self-studies, ethics and compliance, and independence training.  The second week I attended training in Atlanta for a debriefing of higher level concepts and networking.  This past week I started my first engagement in SF.

There's something amidst the confusion and chaos of not knowing what to do that allows me to break free from everything I ever was.  I haven't kept track of my finances since I started (I used to know where every penny went.  Little time to do so these days), I've stopped using the Internet as much as I used to, which means I've just replaced it with catching up on TV shows for more mind-numbing entertainment, haven't made an effort to exercise, which for the first time, I'm really getting fat (120lbs border-line-overweight-for-my-height) and to top it all off, I keep eating because I'm stressed out.

Butttttttt... after this noobish period has ended, I will be something quite different.  I don't know whether I'll return to my usual self (perhaps just a little bit), or what the future holds in regards to my personality and quirks.

This transitioning period may lead to something unfamiliar -- and I can't wait (there goes my impatience, as usual).

Currently, my focus is on my relationships and social interactions.  Although, when it comes to having to do work -- I tend to lose that focus and become maniac-listen-learner.  Nodding of the head, uh-huhs, Okays, and crapload of questions.  It's like a switch turns on and all I can do is take in information and process it.

Like I had mentioned in a previous post, all I need is someone to sit down with me and explain why I'm doing what I'm doing, and to show me the bigger picture so that I can ask detailed questions -- so that I can understand higher level concepts.  Today, I had confirmation that all I needed was just that.  I asked a few people to sit down with me to explain a little bit of this and that...and I felt much better.

So I've come to realize that I need to really reach out.  This is something I have no problem doing, except when I'm separated by distance, like in my current predicament.  I don't have a method for doing this.  I don't know the etiquette.  I don't know what is appropriate.  This is the ultimate challenge.  But the more that I do it, the more that I can receive the guidance I'm looking for -- the kind of guidance that will allow me to learn quicker.

Other discouraging factors = everyone is so god damn busy and not directly reporting to anyone is unfamiliar and challenging.

There's a lot about the firm that requires me to switch my way of handling situations because people seem to work side-by-side as opposed to top-down.  Whether a person is an associate, senior manager, director, or partner, everyone treats everyone equally (strange concept), at least from what I have encountered... There isn't a "do-this" type of thing going on.  Although, I'm still constantly looking for approval and confirmation that I'm on the "right track."  But I think this is more of direction and guidance than having an explicit role defined.

In any case, today I gained a better understanding of what I'm doing on this engagement -- not so much what is expected of me --  but rather the line of work.  Of course, it all revolves around money, but more specifically, attempting to prevent fraud by checking IT controls and access.  That's the nutshell version.

I already know that this is something that doesn't make me say "w00t," nor will make me feel fulfilled as a being.  While there are many out there that probably get a kick out of preventing fraud, it just doesn't spark a fire for me.

It's not humanitarian enough.

This line of work encompasses money, material items, and business.  I have absolutely no interest in these things.  These things are things that I want to be free from.  All these stupid, tangible things that just-so-happen to make the world go round.  Rawr.

But that aside, I'm not concerned about how meaningless it is to me right now because this is the time for me to learn and to gain a ton of experience in something new.  And I'm all for that.

I like seeing myself grow.

I like noticeable changes.

And that satisfies me -- for now.

So to answer my original question -- I'm doing what I am doing so that I have other opportunities in the future.  So that I can find something really fulfilling and meaningful.  And I don't mind it too much because there's no routine yet.  Every day is a surprise and challenge.

These are good things.

These are the only things that excuse me being not as happy as I would like to be.

There's calm after the storm.

I have to pay my dues before I can be comfortable.

I have to work hard before I am rewarded.

Right now, I have to be okay with not having a smile on my face at the end of the day.

But I will say, that by next year, it better be different.

We all have a point where we say enough is enough.

And I am setting my expectations today...

So I take back a statement I made in a previous post -- where I said that it's better to have no expectations...

Everyone needs expectations.

Everyone needs standards.

Absolute Truth: Everyone needs to put their foot down every once in awhile so that they don't lose sight of what is important to them.

• Evite contato nos olhos!

(carentes são facilmente seduzidos assim)

• Não se sente perto de típicas bocas nervosas

(é só vc sentar ao lado dele,ele vai esperar o tal contato nos olhos e mandar:tá frio hoje né!?
daí os papos variam entre: temperatura, trabalhos, temperatura.. .temperatura...temperatura...temperatura...

• Se interrogado sobre algo,mesmo que tenha profundo conhecimento sobre o assunto diga friamente com cara de blasé que nunca viu MAIS GORDO!

• Descubra aonde todos vão lanchar e vá a outro lugar.Faça isso com vans,bares,elevadores,bebedouros e afins.

• Sempre lembre-se de perguntar o professor: -O trabalho pode ser feito sozinho?

• Diga que odeia internet!Assim eles deduziram que não possui orkut,msn ,email e afins.

• Se não souber algo,NUNCA pergunte!Anote sua dúvida e consulte o mago GOOGLE!

• Se ouvir seu nome,finja de bobo ou de égua (como preferir) e folheie o caderno pausadamente!

• Ouça mp3 durante as aulas!(Ajuda mil!)

E lembre-se: ser sociável é pra países socialistas ora boletas!

because not only was my pay deducted because i took 2 days unpaid leave, i spent some well 200 bucks on daily necessities. so that just plainly leaves me with 500 odds till the end of the month, which is still a long way to go. i am really sorry i am ranting about money again for the millionth time. tolerate this shit, soon enough, all of you will be ripped off your allowance and you will be in the same shit i am in, for a really long time. considering that i've been working ever since i ended my O levels. i hate it when they call it the O Level's. it sounds like "orgasm level". yeah, i am sick in the head. not the first time i heard that.

It's not funny to know that i have no money. because one day, all of you will be worst off then me! (i really hope that my ancestors leave enough inheritance for me. at least to reward me for my multiple years of independency.)

i admit that i want to buy a lot of stuff that i can't even wear to work. like gore t-shirts with zombies and exposed intestines on them, want to buy necklaces that are vulgar and obscene, and i want a hairy vagina suit for halloween parties. (yeah, someone wore that before. but i am not. i am going to be the cabaret slut for halloween) i want to buy my wristbands that i have not wore for 3 months
now and my wrist are having a horribly empty feeling, feels like i lost part of me. and most of all, i really want a dress. i haven't got a proper dress that ends mid-thigh, with a cute upper body design. if i know how to sew, i'll sew myself an awesome dress. because i know exactly what i want, and i won't tell anyone what i want, because bloody cunts will start wearing them.

now i fully understand the pain of having money.
which is pretty difficult to understand.
i am wise old bitch, i understand.

Y esto no es solo en las clases, el pasado Martes asistí a una conferencia, que resultó un bodrio, para mi, en primer lugar al ver proyectada una imagen de power point, con una plantilla de presentación que ya he utilizado, creanme, en esos momentos, deseaba, que me diera un infarto, y no tener que sufrir esa mierda, la conferencia no estuvo tan mal, el conferencista mostró dominio del tema, lo cual medio salvó mi aversión hacia los cañones.

La moraleja es → no mamen !, no sean pincheabusivos!. Metanse sus expos con cañon por el culo, y preparen sus clases no sean ojetes, usen plumón y borrador, grito por eso, si vuelvo a ver otra expo con cañon juro que me vomito.