The Pink Shoe Diaries

so, times have been both dramatic and boring (ahh the duality of summer, how I have missed thee). Work is most of the basis for all this drama, in that half of our department is threatening to quit, my boss already DID quit, and the nasty catty gossip has increased in both volume and abundance. The good news is that I have learned how to play craps and so now when it is slow Kelvin and I retire to the back room and play for starbursts. I kick his ass repeatedly, I seem to have amazing luck when betting for candy, but horrible luck when money is involved as evident in our one disasterous attempt to play with pennies.

I have this problem with giving out my number. The problem is : I give it out to everyone who asks. I haven't found a tactful way to say no without alienating the person who wants it. (I.E., the parking attendant at schoo, or a boy in my French class who I have to see every day). They are onto my "Why don't you just give me your number" routine. And I don't want to tell you how many times I have set about writing my number for someone, fullly intending to give the wrong one, and then forgetting to do so entirely. So now I am forced to ignore my cell phone unless I recognize the number flashing on the screen. It is a sad state of affairs.

Today I finally renewed my licence. I know, I know, it's almost 4 months late, but I have a passport so the "valid ID" was never an issue for me, and also I am lazy as fuck. The registry proved to be a hotbed for intellectual conversation as usual as evident by the argument that ensued in front of me which ended with one of the girls turning around and asking me "Yo, if you from Sicily, are you a n*gga or a honkey?" to which I succinctly replied "honkey". And then the lady sitting next to me actually asked if I would switch numbers with her, just because I was ahead of her and she happened to have a baby with her. These people with babies think they can get anything from anyone: a seat on the train, a discount on shoes, free regin to block every aisle with their damn carriages, etc... I do not even like babies, so there. Especially the crying ones. ick.

Now I will relate an embarrasing piece of information about myself: I want to see From Justin to Kelly. I don't know why, I never even watched American Idol and I know it looks pretty dumb but I just cannot help myself.