seriously and whoa
Are all of you really going to sit back and allow Andy to marry Denise?
website!
I created a website... so far it only have myspace layouts on it, but it's pretty. and I make monies when people click the ads at the bottom of the page.
concretegirlscantfalldown.blogspot.com
check it out if you're so inclined. thanks.
concretegirlscantfalldown.blogspot.com
check it out if you're so inclined. thanks.
not that I'm an avid ljer anymore but....
I'm about to abandon this thing entirely in favor of my new, ad-supported (hopefully profitbale) blogger account. I'll post things on it like short stories and layouts I've made. I think it'll be peachy. If you think otherwise you can shut your pie-hole. I'm waiting to get approved for an adsense account which will take 48 hours mayhaps. If I get it, I'll make one last post with the link to my new blogger thing-a-ma-jig. Woo-hoo, right? RIGHT?!?
servers dream and Jaime's birthday
one of the things I hate about serving is this constant feeling like you're forgetting something. (did I bring them bread? is that sweet or unsweet tea? what was that he wanted to change on his sammich? are we out of prime rib?) really. it's terrible.
I frequentally wake up trembling and muttering to myself, "no, it's okay, amanda, you can go back to bed. you aren't waiting tables. there's nothing to remember. go to sleep."
So I got off work yesterday at 4pm, then I went to bed. It was supposed to be a nap, but whatever. It wasn't. I had this awful/fantastic dream that I was waiting tables and more and more people kept piling in. I told the hostess that I couldn't take care of all of them so my manager (Gus) was just like, "Wait on whoever you think will be the most meaningful". So I picked my tables out according to whether or not I wanted to talk to them. (Skip that boring couple, say hello to the man with the mullet).
I kept walking past people who had this, "where is my server?" look on their face, but I didn't really mind. I spent a long time talking to a couple about which steaks taste like what. I kept this up until close and this huge group of performers came in. I think they might have been the band that was playing all along but whatever.
Part of the group were these beautiful burlesque dancer/stripper type girls. They were very pale with dark hair and feathery outfits. They were topless but classy somehow and I was talking to one of them about the things we wish we'd done in our lives.
"Our dreams are our apologies to ourselves," she said to me. She said something else but I can't remember it -- which pisses me off tremendously because I feel like it was extremely wise.
I woke up at about ten minutes til midnight. I remembered it was Jaime's birthday so I called him. I went to his apartment and hung out with him and Kennon. It was nice. I watched them play video games and we had discussions about people we know and movies. When we were talking about movies I kept thinking about how much I miss someone I used to care about... and that I'd like to someday be in love with someone who can talk about movies.
I know there are far more important qualities in a person. And sometimes, most of the time, I feel like I could be perfectly fine with someone who was entirely free of culture... someone who was honest and optimistic -- the important things. But gosh, I hope he can talk about movies, too. Or at least likes to listen.
I frequentally wake up trembling and muttering to myself, "no, it's okay, amanda, you can go back to bed. you aren't waiting tables. there's nothing to remember. go to sleep."
So I got off work yesterday at 4pm, then I went to bed. It was supposed to be a nap, but whatever. It wasn't. I had this awful/fantastic dream that I was waiting tables and more and more people kept piling in. I told the hostess that I couldn't take care of all of them so my manager (Gus) was just like, "Wait on whoever you think will be the most meaningful". So I picked my tables out according to whether or not I wanted to talk to them. (Skip that boring couple, say hello to the man with the mullet).
I kept walking past people who had this, "where is my server?" look on their face, but I didn't really mind. I spent a long time talking to a couple about which steaks taste like what. I kept this up until close and this huge group of performers came in. I think they might have been the band that was playing all along but whatever.
Part of the group were these beautiful burlesque dancer/stripper type girls. They were very pale with dark hair and feathery outfits. They were topless but classy somehow and I was talking to one of them about the things we wish we'd done in our lives.
"Our dreams are our apologies to ourselves," she said to me. She said something else but I can't remember it -- which pisses me off tremendously because I feel like it was extremely wise.
I woke up at about ten minutes til midnight. I remembered it was Jaime's birthday so I called him. I went to his apartment and hung out with him and Kennon. It was nice. I watched them play video games and we had discussions about people we know and movies. When we were talking about movies I kept thinking about how much I miss someone I used to care about... and that I'd like to someday be in love with someone who can talk about movies.
I know there are far more important qualities in a person. And sometimes, most of the time, I feel like I could be perfectly fine with someone who was entirely free of culture... someone who was honest and optimistic -- the important things. But gosh, I hope he can talk about movies, too. Or at least likes to listen.
yea, it's dark again
Jenny Lewis is charming
Nothing is ever as good as it was.
And what's good for your soul will be bad on your nerves if you reverse it.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
And we've lost the people we could've loved ; and you,
what you know you have, or what you think you want, it's never perfect.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
Are we killing time?
Are we killing each other?
When you're kissing someone who's too much like you,
it's like kissing on the mirror.
When you're sleeping with someone who doesn't get you,
you're going to hate yourself in the morning.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
And what's good for your soul will be bad on your nerves if you reverse it.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
And we've lost the people we could've loved ; and you,
what you know you have, or what you think you want, it's never perfect.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
Are we killing time?
Are we killing each other?
When you're kissing someone who's too much like you,
it's like kissing on the mirror.
When you're sleeping with someone who doesn't get you,
you're going to hate yourself in the morning.
It's bound to melt your heart,
one way or another.
It's bound to melt your heart,
for good or for bad.
It's like a valentine from your mother,
it's bound to melt your heart.
everyone... come and see how good I FEEL
I just wanted a record of how blissed out I am right now. I feel like a freight train of candy, puppies, and rainbows just de-railed and now I am the eager reciepent of all its wares! (For the record, the aforementioned puppies were in a a padded section of the train and are therefore perfectly fine. A little disoriented, slightly miffed, but perfectly fine) I am gorging myself on its sugar and its child-like goodness... knowing full-fucking-well that tomorrow morning I will wake up with but the faint recollection of it all... like the milk on the vapors of my sweet puppies' breath... twitching from the sugar rush... and have to go to the real world. Work a real job. Smile and listen to hoards of fleshy creatures with a LAUGHING pain in my side, (finding humor in its own artsy personification). But at least. When the years of my serfhood are done and I can limp past the gate of the manor penniless with my PRICELESS freedom I will have more than that. I will have this moment.
I'm boycotting tanning this summer
new orleans this weekend
me and Jana are heading down to the big easy in a couple of hours. anxiously await stellar pictures. <3