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Name: M. Joyce Wilson
Birthday: 2/16/1989
Gender: Female


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Member Since: 5/5/2008

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Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Anther.

My god I love the Science building.

And I am so proud of myself for paying my cell phone bill (albeit just barely) on time.

Maybe I should forget about art and be a botanist after all.

Art is anguish.

Plain and simple.

Addictive, beautiful anguish.


Friday, March 27, 2009

Green Jelly Beans.

I just want to die right now.

I am the most redundant person on the goddamn planet and I know it,

but I just want to die.

But I won't die.

I'll just sit here with my head in my hands with Bohemian Rhapsody playing

and feeling sorry for myself

because everyone hates me,

or rather,

everyone whose opinion could be detrimental to my future hates me,

and to top it off I'm broke and can't get a job for some reason.

I can't remember if I have a criminal record. I think I might, but I might not.


But let's look on the bright side.

My Juicy Couture tote bag should be here in only a few days.



Goddamn this is the gayest song ever.


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

G.

I applied for a job at Giant today.

I actually really hope I get it.

Because for some reason I really like that place.

Maybe because it's new and clean and has that cold ambient grocery store feeling.

And because the people who work there aren't creepers, like at Safeway.

I avoid the La Plata Safeway like the plague for a few reasons.

1- It's kinda dirty.

2- That creepy guy what tries to hug me or slap me on the back while asking me if I'm in a band works there.

3- They hired my ex, a more-than-once registered sex offender.

So yeah.

I really hope Giant hires me.

Because I like that place.

I feel safe at Giant.

And that's not something I can say about Safeway.


Monday, March 23, 2009

The Only Italian Restaurant In Chinatown.

Saturday was awesome up until I had my 11th drink.

Then it really sucked.

However, it did reaffirm that I have the best boyfriend in the world.


Saturday, March 21, 2009

Sightings.

So today I applied for a job

got my cell company to give me $90

resisted the temptation to buy a cute little designer change purse that was on sale for $10

was given half a pizza,

tried on about 25 pairs of shoes just because I could,

went to Borders with the intent of working on my knitting

saw his ex in person

and listened to her drone on about the litany of guys she's been with and the music she plays

to a friend

from a distance, while flipping through a magazine-

her voice is not what I'd imagined it to be, and yet somehow is-

was offered a drink by a nice guy named Derick

(And yes he does spell his name like that)

who spent the better part of the evening talking about random things with me

like tattoos and books and art and movies

and who thinks I look like the girl from Ghost World,

which I have neither seen nor read,

though I've been meaning to.

Observed a swarm of Twilight fans at borders, all of them probably between the ages of 7 and 15,

and their tired parents.

Now I am tired and drinking orange soda.

His ex disappoints me.

Ex's always seem so much more interesting until you witness them in person.

I mean, there are probably exceptions, like if she was a fire breathing pirate wench or something,

or even if she grew up in Switzerland and could whip up a mean hot cocoa,

telling stories in a lilting, softly charming accent over the brim of the steaming mug-

but even they would be boring in some way. Like the pirate girl would refuse to wear anything but white granny panties or the Switzerland girl would be too stereotypical.

Ex's are boring.

There is nothing to it, really.

It actually really bothers me, oddly enough.

I mean, you'd think I'd be happy that she's boring, and that by comparison I must seem even more fun.

But I'm not, not quite.

Maybe because I like him so much, and we've done so many fun, crazy things together that it upsets me to think that he'd spend so much time with someone so hopelessly dull.

She just seems like one of those people with so many imaginary complications in their lives,

and yet who, in spite of that, has never taken a moment to actually look inward and question what the problem really is.

Too preoccupied with telling her life's small dramas to her friends to be bothered with trying to solve them.

And oh, how she dominated the conversation.

Her friend just nodded along, interjecting a word now and then, I suppose, though I didn't hear any.

Just her, droning on and on.

I wanted to walk over to her and say

"Hi, you don't know me, but I just wanted to let you know that you are painfully, PAINFULLY redundant and I already know everything about you that you are saying to your friend, through a combination of my boyfriend's rants and the few times I've facebook stalked you over the course of our relationship. Isn't it sad that a perfect stranger like me could figure you out? Could you please move on to another topic, other than music and guys?"

Also, because I'm narcissistic, I was sort of hoping I'd look up and see her pointing at me and whispering loudly

"That's his new girlfriend! That's her, right there!"

Like I was some sort of rare jungle feline.

Meow.



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