my cats really do hate me. See what Gordo and Lucy have to say.

Maggie

November 1996 - August 8, 2007

She was the best dog to have ever lived.

We had to put her to sleep this morning. My mom and I were both there. She was old and in a lot of pain, but I can't shake this guilt.

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I received Miranda July's book today! Mine is pink.

Am forcing myself not to read the entire thing in one sitting, as I have a bad habit of doing. I'll try and read one story a day, though it's doubtful I can do that.

Bronchitis sucks. But I did manage to get four days off in a row.

I don't know what my sister's preoccupation with the Lifetime channel is. Today must be "teen pregnancy" day complete with the little PSAs during commercial breaks.

Got a Christmas tree despite my slight aversion to the holiday. It's my first one. Ok, so it's just a four foot fake one, but so far it's remained virtually untouched by the cats. Awaiting the day I come home and it's on the floor, destroyed. I've gotten into the spirit this year...I may even have a Christmas party.

Let's see...it begins with 75 cent you-call-its at Drink Houston with a friend leaving for the army in three days. It ends in dancing (and for those who know me, you know I NEVER dance) with a cute girl with whom I'm sure I exchanged numbers and sorta made out, two people harassing me in the parking lot, and as I'm fleeing the lot to get away from them, I rear ended a guy who in turn hit the guy in front of him. My first accident. Ever.

Everyone was ok and only very minor damage was done (nothing that can't be fixed with a rubber mallet) but the guy in the very front of the line just happened to be a New Orleans evacuee. Here's someone who has just lost everything and probably looking for any way to get money. Guess I should be expecting some sort of lawsuit soon. Maybe he'd drop it after he finds out I only make two dollars an hour. Can't get blood from a turnip. Nope.

Another two months since an update...I think I promised last time I wouldn't do that again. Er...sorry.

My dad, who lives two blocks from the beach in Gulfport, came home to a nearly untouched house, despite it being one of only five even left standing in his neighborhood. The casinos aren't there anymore so he's got the beach view back.

My brother and I aren't on speaking terms, again. I really can't believe we share the same genes. How did he become such an asshole? That's it. He's eighty-sixed. I mean it this time. I really, really regret buying a car from him.

Our quarterly staff meeting is coming up, this time the theme is "homecoming." We're supposed to bring a date (a coworker) and dress up since it's around Halloween. My original plans were to take the cardboard cut-out of PeeWee Herman as my date, but that somehow changed to going with this girl from work...her in a flapper and me in a zoot suit. Should be interesting. I've never gone in drag before.

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The past few weeks have found me in a complete funk. I've had no desire to do anything other than lounge and watch television. My birthday, adding much to the feeling, came and went. This of course hit me particularly hard. I know I'm certainly not old by any means, but looking at it in terms of what I have(n't) accomplished, made me feel just plain...shitty.

Have begun the search for a new job. This one has lost its novelty. Not to mention that our best bartender was just fired for giving away - get this - a soda(!). It's got the rest of us walking on eggshells, afraid to make even a sudden movement for fear of getting canned. We're having to account for every little thing. There is a lot of mistrust going on around there. So much for the bartenders being the elite of the restaurant.