Thursday, November 21, 2002
So wow.
Everything is changing right before my eyes.
I mean, I know that with this journal I am notorious for saying that “things are changing” and that I am due for some sort of comeback within my life.
But I feel like this time it’s for real.
I know this sounds stupid, but I work at the Gap. I mean, Joe Cuttheshit works at the Gap.
Joe Cuttheshit doesn’t work at the Gap. Joe Cuttheshit doesn’t work a second job period.
But here I am...trying my best to guide my life into a healthier direction. A life filled with no booze, no slack time, and no life that isn’t anything, but productive.
Tonight was my one night off. I am sort of understanding how Kelly feels when she has to work every single night knowing that she can only see her roommates once a week or so...
Weird, cuz before I didn’t get that and now I kinda do.
Last night, when I found out that I wouldn’t have to work this evening, I thought “FUCKING YES! I can get drunk with Rita and not feel guilty for doing it!” I can earn my night of drinking instead of relying on it.
You see...
I don’t think that I am addicted (you could get...addicted) to alcohol; I think I am addicted to the feeling I get hanging out with my friends while having a few beers on the table.
Going into tonight, I knew that this was my night to drink. I knew deep down that it couldn’t be CRAZY and go all night because it’s a Thursday and there is work to do tomorrow, but at the same time, I looked forward to tonight as though it was my own personal weekend.
I have to work at my day job tomorrow and at the Gap for just about all of Friday and Saturday.
I am used to having one night watching movies and one night going out on the town.
Wow. Everything’s changing.
I had the most amazing time with Rita tonight. We discussed some very personal issues that are plaguing both of our otherwise perfect lives. Lots of shit has been going on with the three housemates lately and none of it is “journal business” at this point. Eventually I will spill the beans, but for now, the three of us are really finding ourselves in not only the city, but in our personal lives as well.
We are learning, very gradually, what our purpose is in this great big world. I know it sounds lame, but it is so tragically true. I count on the fact that those who read my journal understand that this is a journal and that there is so much more going on behind the scenes. It’s focused on what I see in my every day life as well as how I feel feel expressing myself on that given day.
So I have just inundated you with non-sequential bullshit, but I think that you understand my freeverse.
tangent.
whatever.
I love my Rita. In a way that would make a grown man cry. A big hairy trucker grown man even.
I don’t wax philosophic nearly enough about her.
At this point in my life, I find myself as a cojoined twin.
Siamese baby if you will.
Rita and I work together, come home together, go out together, have the same friends, watch movies together, buy underwear together, and even call out the fact that we are at that moment taking our daily shit.
It’s a little bizarre and somewhat cartoonish at the same time.
I am constantly writing in here about the levels that Kelly and I are conquering, yet Rita remains a complete mystery. All that is ever said is that she is funny and likes BBQ and got me hooked on this journal.
But in all reality, she is ties it all together.
Kelly and Rita serve very different purposes in my life.
Kelly knows me in one way
and
Rita knows me in another.
Both of them are one of 8 people that mean the world to me. 8 people that comprise my entire existence on this planet. If all of them were to die in some freak ridiculous accident, I would be forced to kill my own person, because I would have no one.
I don’t think I need to explain who these people are, because that would make this even that much more staged and cliche, but I do need to say that yes Ari, I consider you one of these 8 people.
***DISCLAIMER---IF YOU ARE NOT ARI FEEL FREE TO SLIP THIS PART ENTIRELY***
You are my NYC life. At least at this point. I know you and I have thus begun to understand you. You have taught me so much about myself that I couldn’t begin to thank you. You and I have that relationship where we hate and love eachother so intensely. We don’t fight, but when we do it’s scathing, no matter how it happens. Yet, as personal as these moments get, I find myself talking about you and explaining who you are to people that don’t even know you. You are a huge part of my life and I am so glad tht I have gotten to the point (regardless of age and all of our other society based stipulations) where I truly know who you are. You amaze me. I see through that hard exterior. You know I do. I happened to be talking about you with Rita tonight, as I often do...and I realized once again how integral the part you play in my life really is.
So whatever snores. Thank you. You are one of the 8. Please love it.
***DISCLAIMER OVER! DON’T ACT LIKE AN ASSHOLE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS FOR ARI!***
All of my friends serve this incredibly important function in my life.
I just wanted to highlight Rita tonight.
She started me on this journal. I read hers before she even got here. She allowed me to actually experience it.
Cuz see, with Rita...it was never about the site meter.
It was about the love of writing.
I have tried to put a guest book and comments on my page and while I think that that is totally appropriate for some journals, based on the writers purpose, I don’t think it is right for mine.
Rita taught me to write for me and as much as I don’t think that I open up nearly enough in here, I have sessions of writing where I find myself pouring out my soul.
So Rita has been the influence of this particular journal.
This girl just gets me.
She looks at me directly in the eye and before I can even conceptualize the thought of having a bad day, she says to me: “Are you alright?”
And I fucking hate that!
I always respond with “Yes. Are YOU alright?”
Then 20 minutes later I am down and out in my so called Beverly Hills life and I say "Fine, I suck today.".
She just knows.
She gives great advice, she has a great laugh, and she is the first person that I have spent 18 hours a day with, every day, and never bores me.
Tonight, for example, we came home knowing that we were having wine...despite the fact that she battled a headache and post -Billy Blanks Tai Bo - recovery all day. She’s crazy.
She also ate an entire bag of Haribo Raspberries today and felt so physically nautious and full of guilt that every sentence began with “Hi, I ate all of the raspberries in my special bag, um...sorry bout that....do you want me to fax that donor opportunity to the president of the board.”
Seriously, she made herself ill. And I laughed all day.
As quoted by Rita in an email around 11am this morning:
“Joe, I made a mistake. I bought a bag of Haribo Raspberries and ate the entire thing just now. Forgive me baby Jesus. I just ate em and ate em and now I am sick.”
So I laugh and think: "You weigh 17 ounces and need to have this experience every morning before 11am.” Wait..."You ate that entire bag before 11am?"
hahahha
please I drink a bottle of pepsi on my way to my shower.
BTW...Kelly has been swimming alot lately and has really huge biceps.
No, I am not kidding.
They are better than mine.
Um...do I want Kelly cuz she is a bodybuilder?
interesting...
So yeah...I started this thing wanting to say how great Rita is and instead I go on and on about how she’s ridiculous.
hahahahaha
oh.
BTW...why am I hahahaha’ing all the time now. It’s not like I am sitting in my chair and literally hahahahahaha’ing? As Rita says: “Stop writing to me in your fake ass emoticon faces.”
Okay, she never said it like that (cuz we are polite middle class citizens), but the point was taken.
A couple months ago we created nicknames.
Hers in Ladle
and
Mine is Boobie.
I know it’s strange and doesn’t make sense, but to us, when it is said...it does. It really does.
Everything’s okay if its:
“Goodnight Boobie”
and in response
“Goodnight Ladle”.
Truthfully.
I am totally satisfied and in some ways personally moved by how wonderful my weekend was.
I had tonight
and
Rita made it the best.
We got home at 6pm and sat in front of the television, without it even turned on, and talked for 4 straight hours.
Then she had to go to bed.
Just talked.
My housemates are bomb. They really are. They are my best friends in the world and I defintiely couldn’t have asked for a better people to share this time with.
While we all struggle and fall...these are the people that are going to pick you up and (sometimes literally) put you back on your feet.
I am lucky.
Gosh, after all this, how can I ever write about my life being shit?
Everything is changing right before my eyes.
I mean, I know that with this journal I am notorious for saying that “things are changing” and that I am due for some sort of comeback within my life.
But I feel like this time it’s for real.
I know this sounds stupid, but I work at the Gap. I mean, Joe Cuttheshit works at the Gap.
Joe Cuttheshit doesn’t work at the Gap. Joe Cuttheshit doesn’t work a second job period.
But here I am...trying my best to guide my life into a healthier direction. A life filled with no booze, no slack time, and no life that isn’t anything, but productive.
Tonight was my one night off. I am sort of understanding how Kelly feels when she has to work every single night knowing that she can only see her roommates once a week or so...
Weird, cuz before I didn’t get that and now I kinda do.
Last night, when I found out that I wouldn’t have to work this evening, I thought “FUCKING YES! I can get drunk with Rita and not feel guilty for doing it!” I can earn my night of drinking instead of relying on it.
You see...
I don’t think that I am addicted (you could get...addicted) to alcohol; I think I am addicted to the feeling I get hanging out with my friends while having a few beers on the table.
Going into tonight, I knew that this was my night to drink. I knew deep down that it couldn’t be CRAZY and go all night because it’s a Thursday and there is work to do tomorrow, but at the same time, I looked forward to tonight as though it was my own personal weekend.
I have to work at my day job tomorrow and at the Gap for just about all of Friday and Saturday.
I am used to having one night watching movies and one night going out on the town.
Wow. Everything’s changing.
I had the most amazing time with Rita tonight. We discussed some very personal issues that are plaguing both of our otherwise perfect lives. Lots of shit has been going on with the three housemates lately and none of it is “journal business” at this point. Eventually I will spill the beans, but for now, the three of us are really finding ourselves in not only the city, but in our personal lives as well.
We are learning, very gradually, what our purpose is in this great big world. I know it sounds lame, but it is so tragically true. I count on the fact that those who read my journal understand that this is a journal and that there is so much more going on behind the scenes. It’s focused on what I see in my every day life as well as how I feel feel expressing myself on that given day.
So I have just inundated you with non-sequential bullshit, but I think that you understand my freeverse.
tangent.
whatever.
I love my Rita. In a way that would make a grown man cry. A big hairy trucker grown man even.
I don’t wax philosophic nearly enough about her.
At this point in my life, I find myself as a cojoined twin.
Siamese baby if you will.
Rita and I work together, come home together, go out together, have the same friends, watch movies together, buy underwear together, and even call out the fact that we are at that moment taking our daily shit.
It’s a little bizarre and somewhat cartoonish at the same time.
I am constantly writing in here about the levels that Kelly and I are conquering, yet Rita remains a complete mystery. All that is ever said is that she is funny and likes BBQ and got me hooked on this journal.
But in all reality, she is ties it all together.
Kelly and Rita serve very different purposes in my life.
Kelly knows me in one way
and
Rita knows me in another.
Both of them are one of 8 people that mean the world to me. 8 people that comprise my entire existence on this planet. If all of them were to die in some freak ridiculous accident, I would be forced to kill my own person, because I would have no one.
I don’t think I need to explain who these people are, because that would make this even that much more staged and cliche, but I do need to say that yes Ari, I consider you one of these 8 people.
***DISCLAIMER---IF YOU ARE NOT ARI FEEL FREE TO SLIP THIS PART ENTIRELY***
You are my NYC life. At least at this point. I know you and I have thus begun to understand you. You have taught me so much about myself that I couldn’t begin to thank you. You and I have that relationship where we hate and love eachother so intensely. We don’t fight, but when we do it’s scathing, no matter how it happens. Yet, as personal as these moments get, I find myself talking about you and explaining who you are to people that don’t even know you. You are a huge part of my life and I am so glad tht I have gotten to the point (regardless of age and all of our other society based stipulations) where I truly know who you are. You amaze me. I see through that hard exterior. You know I do. I happened to be talking about you with Rita tonight, as I often do...and I realized once again how integral the part you play in my life really is.
So whatever snores. Thank you. You are one of the 8. Please love it.
***DISCLAIMER OVER! DON’T ACT LIKE AN ASSHOLE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS FOR ARI!***
All of my friends serve this incredibly important function in my life.
I just wanted to highlight Rita tonight.
She started me on this journal. I read hers before she even got here. She allowed me to actually experience it.
Cuz see, with Rita...it was never about the site meter.
It was about the love of writing.
I have tried to put a guest book and comments on my page and while I think that that is totally appropriate for some journals, based on the writers purpose, I don’t think it is right for mine.
Rita taught me to write for me and as much as I don’t think that I open up nearly enough in here, I have sessions of writing where I find myself pouring out my soul.
So Rita has been the influence of this particular journal.
This girl just gets me.
She looks at me directly in the eye and before I can even conceptualize the thought of having a bad day, she says to me: “Are you alright?”
And I fucking hate that!
I always respond with “Yes. Are YOU alright?”
Then 20 minutes later I am down and out in my so called Beverly Hills life and I say "Fine, I suck today.".
She just knows.
She gives great advice, she has a great laugh, and she is the first person that I have spent 18 hours a day with, every day, and never bores me.
Tonight, for example, we came home knowing that we were having wine...despite the fact that she battled a headache and post -Billy Blanks Tai Bo - recovery all day. She’s crazy.
She also ate an entire bag of Haribo Raspberries today and felt so physically nautious and full of guilt that every sentence began with “Hi, I ate all of the raspberries in my special bag, um...sorry bout that....do you want me to fax that donor opportunity to the president of the board.”
Seriously, she made herself ill. And I laughed all day.
As quoted by Rita in an email around 11am this morning:
“Joe, I made a mistake. I bought a bag of Haribo Raspberries and ate the entire thing just now. Forgive me baby Jesus. I just ate em and ate em and now I am sick.”
So I laugh and think: "You weigh 17 ounces and need to have this experience every morning before 11am.” Wait..."You ate that entire bag before 11am?"
hahahha
please I drink a bottle of pepsi on my way to my shower.
BTW...Kelly has been swimming alot lately and has really huge biceps.
No, I am not kidding.
They are better than mine.
Um...do I want Kelly cuz she is a bodybuilder?
interesting...
So yeah...I started this thing wanting to say how great Rita is and instead I go on and on about how she’s ridiculous.
hahahahaha
oh.
BTW...why am I hahahaha’ing all the time now. It’s not like I am sitting in my chair and literally hahahahahaha’ing? As Rita says: “Stop writing to me in your fake ass emoticon faces.”
Okay, she never said it like that (cuz we are polite middle class citizens), but the point was taken.
A couple months ago we created nicknames.
Hers in Ladle
and
Mine is Boobie.
I know it’s strange and doesn’t make sense, but to us, when it is said...it does. It really does.
Everything’s okay if its:
“Goodnight Boobie”
and in response
“Goodnight Ladle”.
Truthfully.
I am totally satisfied and in some ways personally moved by how wonderful my weekend was.
I had tonight
and
Rita made it the best.
We got home at 6pm and sat in front of the television, without it even turned on, and talked for 4 straight hours.
Then she had to go to bed.
Just talked.
My housemates are bomb. They really are. They are my best friends in the world and I defintiely couldn’t have asked for a better people to share this time with.
While we all struggle and fall...these are the people that are going to pick you up and (sometimes literally) put you back on your feet.
I am lucky.
Gosh, after all this, how can I ever write about my life being shit?
