Friday, May. 06, 2005
Things to Take Note of
Yesterday was a looong day. I didn�t get home until about 7:00. And I had a really bad headache.
Note to Self: wine from the box will not cure migraine, only move it from one side to the other.
In all my pain, I still managed to watch 2 hours of the OC and a full hour of Making the Band. That�s 2-hours of Mischa Bart0n trying to act and one hour of Piddly showing the world what an ignorant asshole he is. I don�t know how I survived. I guess I was trying to focus on anything other than the pain.
I had an interesting phone conversation yesterday as I was attempting to get in contact with one of my students. It went something like this:
Me: Hi, may I please speak with Alex?
Guy (with strong Hispanic accent): Alex?
Me: Yes, Alex. Is he there?
Guy: Who is calling for him?
Me: This is [Summer] from the Museum. Is he there?
Guy: You speake Spanish?
Me: I think I have the wrong number.
Guy: No, you might have the right number. You speake Spanish?
Me: A little.
Guy: Only ingles?
Me: Yes, only English. So do you know Alex?
Guy: No. No Alex. Is he friend?
Me: I think I dialed the wrong number. Sorry.
Guy: I could be your friend.
Me: No thank you.
Guy: You sound like you need a friend, I could be your friend.
Me: No, that�s alright. I have enough friends. Bye.
Guy: No room for one more? I could be a good friend.
Me: Sorry, I don�t need any more friends. Bye.
Why are people so creepy? Why couldn�t he just say that it was the wrong number. I wonder if he makes it a habit of picking up women over the phone. I can�t see myself answering a call that�s a wrong number and saying, �This guy sounds sexy; I should ask him to take me out.� He might be psychotic.
It reminds of the time I gave my number to this guy so that he would leave me alone. The only reason I gave him the right number is that he saw my cell phone and called it right when I gave him the number to make sure it worked. Loser. He called me a couple days later and left a message saying, �This is [don�t really remember his name]. I met you a couple nights ago when you were walking home. If you like to drink, give me a call. If you like to smoke, give me a call. If you like to do coke, give me a call. If you like to fuck, give me a call. I hope to hear from you soon.�
Wow. Yep, that�s a message that will guarantee you a date. Fucking idiot.
Note to Self: Stop being polite to strange people who might actually be psychotic.
OK. So this whole Fallen Id0l nonsense. Did Dateline really think this was a newsworthy story? The only reason I watched it (and I fell asleep 25 minutes into it) was because I was too lazy to reach for the remote after Alias finished, even thought it was on my coffee table 2 feet away.
Do I believe that what�s his name and Paula had an affair?
I don�t care. Maybe they did, maybe they didn�t. Personally, I think he looks like Side-Show Bob, but Paula isn�t known to have the best judgment.
Do I believe that Paula �coached� what�s his name?
Hell No. Paula couldn�t coach a dog to bark. Plus, she�s so strung out on painkillers all the time, I�d be surprised is she ever had a coherent thought in her head.
What really bothers me about this whole nonsense is that if it had really happened, why is it only coming out now. Wouldn�t it have worked as leverage when he got kicked off for lying about his criminal past? Or is it merely a coincidence that this breaks just as his album is about to drop? It looks suspicious to me. Now he�s on all these talk shows and what not. Talk about free publicity.
What kills me is that people are always looking for ways to take advantage of something or initiate a scandal in an attempt to further or jumpstart their �careers�. But things like this wouldn�t happen if the news and other shows didn�t make it possible for these wannabes to whore themselves out and become household names. It�s the same reason why a couple months ago the Brad/Jen breakup was the leading news story when there was a serial rapist targeting teens on the loose. And people wonder why I don�t watch the news.
Note to Self: Wean self off of American Id0l and try not to get too upset about stupid people on TV.
Today is a half-day. Yay! I get to go home in an hour. I love half-days. All my days should be half-days. I only work 4 hours a day anyway; the rest of my time is spent reading diaries and TWoP and trying to figure out ways to escape.
My mom has already called me twice this morning.
Before this whole house thing, my mom never called me unless it was to ask where my car insurance payment was or for something self-centered. In the past week, she�s called me over 15 times. I think she�s trying to make up for the past. My mom has never given a shit about me. She doesn�t even know what I do, even though I have told her several times. She�s one of those that says, �uh huh, uh huh� and nods, but doesn�t take in anything. Then she wonders why I don�t talk to her about my life.
I see the way she is with my sister, who is 10 years younger, and things are completely different with them. My mom goes to every single one of my sister�s events, competitions, performances, etc. She never went to any of mine. My sister gets praise for everything that she does. I would bring home a second place trophy, and I would get, �why wasn�t it first place?�
It�s really pissing me off now thinking about how shitty I was treated, so I won�t talk about it anymore. I�m just glad my sister doesn�t have to go through it.
Note to Self: Buy Mother�s Day present.
Time to prepare for my Saturday class. We�re doing a really great experiment on toxicology and how all substances have the ability to toxic when in certain concentrations. My kids are always amazed when I tell them that water could poison them if they drink too much; which wouldn�t really be a problem for them since they don�t drink water anyway.
Our toxins for tomorrow are nicotine, vodka, and caffeine. Sounds more like a long night out in the clubs. They�ll be diluted to different strengths and then we�ll introduce blackworms to the solutions and watch them suffer, all for the sake of science.
Note to Self: Stop being such a science geek.
summerroll at 12:12 p.m.