Wow, I haven't written in quite some time. It's going to be quite difficult to try to remember what has gone on in the past 12 days. But I'll try.

Work has been adventurous as ever. This guy came in whom I thought was absolutely hot as hell. I'd never seen him before. He was wearing black leather pants and eyeliner. I was busy waiting on a bunch of kids, and my brother, who was up there by me, waited on him to help me out. The guy got a slushy...and all of a sudden, he said to Dave, "I dress in all black to freak people out." If anything would have ruined him for me, that was it. What kind of pretentious ass-hole has to give reason for the way he/she dresses? And if you're dressing a certain way merely to get a reaction, than you're a pretentious wanker to begin with. He left, and I said to Dave, "Did he say what I think he said? That's like me going around to people and saying 'I wear skirts because I want to look feminine.'" What a loser he was!

The man whom we call "Stank" (who is also in my JCM poem) came in the other day. I hadn't seen him in awhile and assumed he was still in prison for child molestation. He was exposing himself to children, I heard. He lives on the same block as the grade school I went to (and that some of my family still go to), and the school sent a letter home to parents, warning them of him. He has three daughters, and they all act REALLY strangely toward him...well they act really strangely in general. Everytime he comes near them, they kind of put their hands up like they're going to be hit. The wife acts extremely quiet, depressed, and submissive. And every time he comes in, he jokes about how he hates women. I always make some snide remark like, "You better not hate women. Without them, you'd not be here." And then he went on the last time I saw him like, "But I have a wife, three daughters, and blah blah sisters." And I said, "It was YOUR choice to get married and have children." I don't take any of his crap. It makes me physically sick whenever I see him coming in. He's not hygenically clean, nor are his children. They all embody such a putrid smell that I have to hold my breath. Why is he not still in prison? What a sicko. Sigh. His children are going to grow up with all sorts of emotional problems, and his wife is going to go through battered wife syndrome and up and kill him one day...and I won't be crying.

Henry hasn't received any attention in my journal lately, so I'll give him a little attention here. My life would be a whole lot easier if I would just fall in love with him. He treats me like I am the air he breathes. He said to me the other day, "What ever happened to those pants you wore the first time I met you? I liked those!" I had him explain them to me. He said they were red-checkered...I have never owned, nor will I ever own red-checkered pants...well maybe if I go through a punk phase and buy some of those plaid ones with like chains and suspenders attached. Anyway, he's so dillusional yet wonderful. I truly smile when I see that he's come in the store...I look forward to talking to him. He makes me really happy. You know the way people look at each other on television when they're in love? That way you never really see in real life because it's really goofy-looking? Well he looks at me like that. And then he'll say something like, "I still listen to that tape you made me." Or lately he's been saying, "When are you gonna come over and see me?" I never know what to say! I like being with him when I'm at work because I know there's a time limit on it. But if I went to his house, I'd have to stay for at least an hour...and I'd also have to meet his mom and all his family he talks about to me ("If you met my cousin, you'd like him.")...and then I think he'd think I like him. I just don't know...sigh. And he always wants to come over but says "I don't know exactly where you live though." And he wants my phone number. I have his, but I've not called him. Maybe I should. I don't know. Anyway, he's so funny...he always says to me, "I've been savin' up." And I say, "For a computer?" And he'll say, "Yeah." But I've been saying to him, "Maybe your first priority should be to get your driver's license." And he'll always say, "Yeah..." and let his voice trail away. Well he came in on Tuesday and was like, "I've been thinking about what you said...and I think I will get my driver's license because that is more imporant than a computer." And I said, "When?" because he always tends to say things that never happen ("I'm going to quit smoking."), and he said, "Soon." So, I doubt that will happen. Another fun Henry fact...he has a tatoo of a naked girl on his leg (along with 20+ more tatoos)...except she has no nipples or genitalia. I said, "If you're going to get a naked lady on your leg, why not go all the way?" He said, "Well I don't want to be perverted." So I said, "Then why get a naked lady at all? Why not have clothes on her?" And he said, "Because the point is that she's naked!" Whenever I talk about various family members, he'll say "I haven't met him/her," as though he's supposed to have met everyone I'm related to. And he always knows, to the exact day almost, how long we've known each other. He said the other day, "You know...we've known each other five years now. You were sixteen, and I was twenty-five." (I'm just realizing that that doesn't add up at all.) And then he'll say "You were born in '81, right?" He just goes on and on about extremely strange things, like what years people are born. Anyway, my mind is blank now with Henry stories, so I'll refrain. I work today, though, so more stories to come!

Mom and I have been brutal lately. It's hard to explain what we fight about...which makes it hard when we fight because I can never give her a list of things she does that hurt me. She doesn't like when I stay out late...I've gotten to the point that I don't even like to stay out late because I'm exhausted. And I'm exhausted because of the stress I have from living with her. She thinks we "made up" last night, but my bawling my eyes out and hugging her for like 5 minutes doesn't change anything. She's always snippy at people, always depressed, always saying things like, "I wish my daughters would visit me. 'Honor your father and mother' is a commandment, you know.'" And I know my sisters don't visit her for the same reason I'm rarely home...she's depressing to be around. She's NEVER happy. But...I'm actually going to try to spend time with her. Maybe it will make her happier. She and I are on a group diet now, even though I'm against diets because they make you gain more weight than you lost. She has all of 10 lbs. to lose...I feel no sympathy for that! Anyway, after our fight last night, it was REALLY odd. My mind transported itself back to my childhood, when I liked to spend time with my mom. I used to get really excited when we'd sit in the basement and watch movies together because it was genuinely fun, bondy time. I'd sit at the base of her body...like when you lie down on your side with your knees slightly bent...I'd sit against her butt inside that place between the backs of her knees and the couch. I felt that happiness last night for a split second. It was like I let go of my resentfulness and bitterness for one night. And then we went outside so she could show me this nasty stuff growing in our pool, and I smelled the air, and it smelled the way the air smelled in the summer when I was a child. And then I went inside and said to myself, "I'm going to put my nightgown on." What the hell?! I only wore nightgowns when I was a child. It was rather freaky. There's a psychological term for this that I've learned, but I can't recall it. Anyway, enough.

That's all for now because this is getting quite long, and I'm going to exercise now.

Oh yeah, hi Liz...there, you're mentioned in my journal, thus it was worth reading. = )

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