Leave me a Note, Damn It!
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2004-10-24 - 11:55 a.m.


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"You've given me nothing but the best // I've given you nothing..."

"Oh you catch-22 you, double edge blade you, cutting me so deep, cut me oh so deeeeeep...
This broadcast comes to you from 37,000 feet. This sullen cry, this lonely blast comes to you over the Midwest skies. Oh of course I put it online after I got home, but I have not changed a word I wrote on the small pad hidden in my breifcase under the light of my cellphone; you see, I rode the good ole' red eye home and since I'm no stranger to not sleeping (in fact, I'm more comfortable not sleeping than sleeping it seems) I've found myself at ease putting this down. Of course, the two cups of (free, thanks Andy) wine I drank made me both drowsy but full of piss and vinegar ( and I dare you to prove airline wine is anything other than this.)
I've left Arizona. To be more specific, I've left Phoenix. To be real specific, I'd have to explain my entire weekend, however long it's been.
But I won't. In fact, I feel no need to share here the absolute bliss and rapture I've been accustomed to in the past 3 or so days.
I know, I know. Unfair. I'm not sharing here. Well, I share too much here anyways, so I'm keeping this to myself.
And to top it all off, I had this weekend solely from this diary. Yes. I flew to Arizona to visit someone who
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HI Tiffany, how are you? The guy next to me is snoring more than I bet I did and he's sharing none of the armrest. The old lady next to me - and god bless middle seats to fucking Hades (but not a toilet paper and pomegrant seed Hades) - is falling asleep on and off, her head bobbing up and down to the tune of nodding off. Of course, I'm listening to your Nine Inch Nails CD on your CD player, watching the world slip by me a couple hundred miles an hour, a couple hundred miles away from you every hour and there are too many hours ahead and already a few behind. Surprisingly, this weird old lady's head is keeping time to Trent bashing music over the head with a synthesizer and I have to do my best to stop from laughing - partly because I'm a little tipsy, partly because it looks fucking HILARIOUS and partly because I'm bobbing my head too and it looks like she's either making fun of me (poorly) or she's trying to follow me in her zombie like (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ZOMBIES) sleep. All I can think of is DAMN WOMAN! Your head is going to REALLY hurt tomorrow when we land...tomorrow. She's wearing a neck pillow and looks like one of those Shakespearean pictures of people with those neck frilly things on, but it's fluffy and she ate half of it, so I guess it looks nothing like it. But it's really funny. And captain asshole still won't share the armrest, so when he goes to sleep, I'm going to find which of these stations on the armrest is the Spanish station and quickly switch it there on his headset and then keep hitting the volume button louder so that he wakes up to Spanish people going AYE AYE AYEEEEEEEE ruckamuckabrukcagambelos para MUUUUUUCHOOOOOO! and pretend I don't know what's going on, like "Hey, that's strange...why is my headset not getting louder?" When he wakes up, he'll no doubt be all like "What the shit is going on?" and get all pissed off as he clamors for the volume button, leaving the armrest open and then BAM! it's all mine. And I'll be Raja dumb (I'm sure that's spelled wrong) and put a finger to my mouth all dumb style like "OOPS! Gee golly mister, I had no idea all the shiny buttons were yours! I hope you don't get all angry with me and..."
Oh forget it, we hit turbulance and Fuckface McGee moved his arm while waking up afraid enough to steal it. You'd be proud of me. If only I could get the stewardess to change the video DVD from the same fucking Josh Grubman VH1 special that I saw on the way to see you (twice, thank you very much sandstorms) to something else, this flight won't be so bad. HOLY SHIT! Crazy old lady just took a tumble forward and smacked herself in the face...with a seat! That was so much funnier listening to Radiohead (NIN was over a little while ago). She just told me "Wow I really must have looked foolish, huh?" By the way, I wonder if asshole guy will miss his party mix. I told the stewardess I'd give them to him when he woke up. They taste so much better when you steal them. Of course, my stomach is pissed off, but screw my stomach. It's been broken all weekend. Oh shit, I'm writing in my diary now...
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...found me from this diary.
Normally, this diary causes me grief or relief. Grief because someone reads this and gets all uppity or downity (is that a wor... well now it is) from what I said, decides I'm an asshole and lambasts me via email or guestbook for my words. I'll refer to the N*Sync fans who couldn't keep their mouths shut. NOT SO COCKY NOW LADIES, HUH? Yeah, N*Sync stuck around wayyy> later than Weezer did, huh you stupid bastards? I told you they suck. It took Lindsay Lohan and Hillary Duff to erase N*Sync from memory. Now let's never speak of them again.
I get relief from this diary from writing in it. I vent and I bitch, I complain and moan about trivial shit and every once in a while, I throw in a fart joke (what did one fart say to the other fart? Is it me or does it stink in here?) and other nonfunny jokes.
And now, I can add bliss to the list of things this diary provides for me. I'd never have gone to Arizona if it wasn't for this diary, this leftover from the weakest relationship I've ever had (with a lesbian no less!) and now look at me. I'm smiling and carefree (well, after the inital shock and tears subsided of course) and I'm ready to take on the world after this weekend. I've been shown a new lease on life thanks to the randomness of life, the unwaivering majesty of circumstance and the ultimate poewr of fate. And to think it was all due to a diary site with kittie faces and wussy color schemes all over it.
Uh oh, asshole head is snoring again. Which one of these is the Spanish channel again?
AYE AYE AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
BMC

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