1.28.2005
BOOK: DREAMLAND BY SARAH DESSEN [TO WHICH I SAY, WHAT KIND OF NAME IS ROGERSON, ANYWAY?!]
CD: I WAAAAAAAAAANT GARDEN STATE SOUNDTRACK! MUWAH...
ARGH MAN, SOMETIMES LIFE SUX [NO, JUST KIDDING, IT DOESN'T]
*SIGH* I'M TRYING TO SAY THAT TODAY'S NOT THAT GREAT. WELL, I COULD SAY IT'S GOING OKAY FOR ME, BUT
FOR MUM, NOT SO GOOD. THE UNEMPLOYMENT GOONS HAVEN'T SENT THE WEEKLY CHECK IN YET; CREDIT'S
ABOUT TO BE RUINED AND IT ISN'T GOING TO BE MINE. IT COULD BE OKAY IF I COULD GIVE MUM WHAT I HAVE
IN THE BANK, BUT THE TROUBLE IS, THE CHECK I SENT TO PROGRESSIVE [MY HEALTH INSURANCE GOONS]
HASN'T REACHED THEM YET, AND IF I GIVE MUM A CHECK FOR $200+, THEN I'LL BE IN DEEP CHIT. CHECK BOUNCES,
AND ALL THAT, PLUS I'M STILL TRYING TO PAY FOR MY LICENSE, WHICH HOPEFULLY I'LL BE ABLE TO GET NEXT WEEK
ON THURSDAY [AND YES, I'M PRAYING MY LITTLE BUM OFF, NOT THAT IT'S DONE ANY GOOD, BUT HEY, THE FAITH'S
STILL TRUCKIN']. ARGH, POOOOOOOOOOP!
AH, ANYWAY, I WATCHED THIS MOVIE THEY MADE ON LINDA MCCARTNEY, PAUL MCCARTNEY'S WIFE [DUH]. IT WAS
ONE OF THOSE WET MOVIES [AND BY WET, SICKO, I MEAN THAT IT MADE ME CRY]. THE GUY WHO PLAYED PAUL WAS
AWESOME, AND PRETTY HOT TOO, I MUST SAY. EH. FRANK, THIS GUY WHO WAS GOING TO HELP SCOTTY MOVE A CAR
OR SOMETHING FROM OUR LOT CAME BY - I LET HIM KNOCK ON THE DOOR THREE TIMES AND I FINALLY OPENED THE
DOOR - TRYING TO SEE IF HE'LL JUST GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE [I'M A HERMIT AT HEART, SEE], BUT NOO, I
HAD TO ANSWER THE BLOODY DOOR. HE "URGED" ME TO CALL SCOTTY SINCE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. AFTER
USING OUR RINGER, HE SAID THANX AND WENT BACK INTO HIS GRAY FORD TRUCK, THIS OLD GROWLING THING THAT
SAT IN OUR DRIVEWAY THAT EVEN THE STRAY CAT WHO WON'T LEAVE US ALONE [EDDIE'S CAT, I BARGAIN] WAS EVEN
AFRAID TO COME NEAR. SO WAS I, BUT I DID ANYWAY.
KRISTEN CALLS [SCOTTY'S WIFE] AND I HAD TO GO OUT THERE AND GIVE THE HANDSET TO BLOODY FRANK WHO I HAD
NO RELATIONS WITH WHATSOEVER, AND HERE I WAS TAKING CALLS FOR HIM. I'M NOBODY'S SECRETARY BESIDES MYSELF,
BUT EH. AFTERWARDS THE PHONE BUSINESS, I TRY TO GO BACK INSIDE AND THE BLOODY OAF WON'T GO AWAY, TRIES FOR
CONVERSATION. "YOU'RE PRETTY...I'M FRANK, WHO ARE YOU?" HE SAYS POMPOUSLY TO ME. ECK. HE'S OLD. "OH, THANKS..." I SAY UNCOMFORTABLY, LOOKING AWAY. AND I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE ANY MAKEUP ON. UGH. "I'M SCOTTY'S STEP-SISTER." "OH, I SEE," HE NODS AND TIPS HIS CHIN TOWARD MY BEANIE, THE BLACK AND WHITE ONE THAT'S RINGED. "LIKE YOUR CAP. WHERE'D YOU GET THAT?" STUPID, I DON'T REMEMBER. "OH, I THINK MY MOM GOT IT. ANYWAY, IT WAS NICE TALKING WITH YOU. BYE." AND I CUT OFF
THAT ABRUPTLY, NO KIDDING. ONCE INSIDE THE SAFETY OF MY HOUSE WITH THE DOOR TWICE-CHECKED FOR LOCKAGE, I
JUMPED UP AND DOWN IN DISGUST. GROSS. I'D RATHER EAT STANLEY, MY BETTA, THEN CANOODLE WITH A DOLT LIKE THAT.
;it's something sophiscated.
4:39 PM
