Dear Diary,
Seriously, how could I have been so stupid? I've done some stupid things in my life. There was the time I asked a woman how many months pregnant she was, and she wasn't pregnant. That was dumb. There was the time I decide to write on my face without checking to make sure the marker wasn't permanent. That was idiotic. There was the time I went through an entire job interview with my fly open and very noticable pit stains. That was humiliating...but this? Does life not humble me on a frequent enough basis? Was this really necessary???
You know how long I have been in love with Jake. He is essentially the most perfect being to grace this planet and for the first time, the first time, I was able to have a really great conversation with him. We started talking about all kinds of things, and I managed to sound intelligent (primarily because I actually uttered something other than "yeah"), so much to my surprise and to my great pleasure, he asked if I might want to join him at a cafe, where this local singer would be performing. Thrilled, I accepted. He told me to meet him at 7 that evening.
Then, I met my Mom for lunch. I actually blame her because being a vegetarian, she insisted we eat at some hippie restaurant and before I knew it, I had indulged in beans the size of yesterday and some hummus-flavored garlic. It wasn't until we started talking about my plans for the evening that I realized my huge mistake.
Now, I am hiding in the bathroom, trying to rid myself of the pressure in my stomach, which could easily fill a blimp. Not only that, but I am neurotically sucking on my 28th and 29th breath mints. I've been too afraid to open my mouth all evening and, instead, have chosen to grunt (quite melodically, I might add),shrug and use other incredibly unattractive body language. My life is over. The beans are staging a coup and taking over my digestive tract. There seems to be no end to my misery in sight and, oh my god, I have been in the bathroom for 15 minutes already. Help!
Help!
Help!
Help!
P.S. to add insult to injury, the whole time, this stupid song is playing in my head:
beans beans, the musical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot (so true), the more you toot, the better you feel (not so far), so eat your beans with every meal ( DO NOT DO THIS!!!)
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Confessions of a vicious murderer...
Dear Diary,
I'm so ashamed. I don't even know if I am willing to admit to the heinous crime that I am personally guilty of committing. Maybe if I simply begin by explaining how I became wrapped up in this horrible and vicious attack.
I was sitting in my room, working on my humanitarian efforts via an email to a particularly embittered journalist for some two-bit paper, when I became aware of a quiet buzzing in my ear. At first I thought that maybe I had played the music in my headphones too loud and had some sort of residual effect, but alas, it was not so...
The buzzing grew louder and louder, until I could no longer deny that a vile, disgusting and no doubt disease-ridden insect of the mosquito variety had penetrated the sanctity of my work area. I swear, I tried to ignore the damn thing, but before I knew it, the little demon had left a trail of SIX bites behind my ear, along my hairline. I told the bug that this behavior, as a guest in my home, was unacceptable, but lacking culture as these beings so often do, it was unresponsive and continued to bite.
I surmised that it was taunting me, so I swatted at it with all my might and after an embarassingly large amount of attempts, I finally managed to bring the rebel down.
I had barely had the chance to glory in my triumph over evil, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had murdered this creature. A saying that I once read on a kitchen plaque resurfaced in my consciousness: "If you ever felt that your voice was too small to make a difference, try falling asleep with a mosquito in your bedroom." (or something to that effect) Here I was, writing this objection, trying to have my voice word, while unceremoniously extinguishing the little guy.
My hypocrisy is my burden.
Despairingly and penitently yours,
Vigilante Swatter
I'm so ashamed. I don't even know if I am willing to admit to the heinous crime that I am personally guilty of committing. Maybe if I simply begin by explaining how I became wrapped up in this horrible and vicious attack.
I was sitting in my room, working on my humanitarian efforts via an email to a particularly embittered journalist for some two-bit paper, when I became aware of a quiet buzzing in my ear. At first I thought that maybe I had played the music in my headphones too loud and had some sort of residual effect, but alas, it was not so...
The buzzing grew louder and louder, until I could no longer deny that a vile, disgusting and no doubt disease-ridden insect of the mosquito variety had penetrated the sanctity of my work area. I swear, I tried to ignore the damn thing, but before I knew it, the little demon had left a trail of SIX bites behind my ear, along my hairline. I told the bug that this behavior, as a guest in my home, was unacceptable, but lacking culture as these beings so often do, it was unresponsive and continued to bite.
I surmised that it was taunting me, so I swatted at it with all my might and after an embarassingly large amount of attempts, I finally managed to bring the rebel down.
I had barely had the chance to glory in my triumph over evil, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had murdered this creature. A saying that I once read on a kitchen plaque resurfaced in my consciousness: "If you ever felt that your voice was too small to make a difference, try falling asleep with a mosquito in your bedroom." (or something to that effect) Here I was, writing this objection, trying to have my voice word, while unceremoniously extinguishing the little guy.
My hypocrisy is my burden.
Despairingly and penitently yours,
Vigilante Swatter
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