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a rose by any other name... As a kid I was sort of proud of it. It was pretty rare among girls my age. I never had a class with another Brittany my entire educational career, up until I went to college, that is. Besides, Brittany was the head Chipette and Alvin's leading lady. I thought *that* was pretty cool. It was at least better than the gaggle of Jennifers and Stephanies I knew. Suddenly, it was everywhere. Oprah announced "Brittany" as the number one female baby name of 1998. At work, I began to hear my name more and more frequently--and sometimes in not-so-pleasant tones. "Brittany, sit down." "Brittney, get over here, now." As a waitress, it is my job to listen for and be attentive to my customers. This, as you might imagine, can be very frustrating diversion on a hopping Saturday night.
Don't get me wrong, it is no big deal, really. But not a single night passes when after introducing myself to the table, I hear, "You related to that Britney Spears?" Back in seventh grade, just to be little divas, my friend Carrie and I decided we'd go by our middle names in band class (I played french horn--not something more than a handful of people know.). Her's was Leigh, mine Lynn. We remembered for a few days during roll call but quickly forgot our new personas. By November, Mr. Barnes was calling us by our known names, and oddly enough, no one ever mentioned it... Brittney: sounds like I should wear charm bracelets and chew gum with pink, glossy lips. That isn't me. See also: Brittney on Britney. indulge me Oh, the sinister games our egos play... Dude, where's my _____?
For instance, here are a few that gave me pause and fits of laughter: Of course, I had to contribute, but the best I could come up with was The Straight Story: Dude, Where's my Dancing Midget? It is too obscure and not very funny. I'm guilty of that more than I'd like to admit actually, obscure and not very funny. Oh well. I almost went with The Piano: Dude, Where's my Finger? But wouldn't that have been a disaster? good times Ooh, and I have an interview next Thursday with the Nashville Independent Film Festival. They are looking for someone to do mostly data entry and word processing for the time being, but closer to June when the event occurs, the tasks may become more "industry oriented." It beats a measley practicuum on campus, I'd say. And, Jason, I can't wait to see you again. all my guy friends may never recover Anyone who's heard any significant amount of Bjork's material would agree that her music and lyrics are inherently sexual and passionate. It is her child-like, elfin/vixen persona that brings around many of her listeners. After just a few seconds the sheer beauty of her nakedness combined with the strains of the song came rushing at me, and I had a "moment." I suggest you go have one to. this is why it is called misc. etc. He could feel his heart rising up hard in his throat. Slowly, and ever so surely, he placed his hand in his pocket and turned on his heel and left. The train he left town on moaned and groaned just as she did that very evening. just in time for the holidays Which is fine by me. Old books read the same as new books. Same goes for CDs. And DVDs. In fact, I'm a used kind of girl all the way around.
Heh. Funny how things sometimes just write themselves.
(The URL for my wishlist has been corrected--thanks Keith! You always notice my flaws, don't ya? ;) it's coming up
I have an awful lot to be thankful for. Food, clothing, shelter, freedom, mostly-acne-free skin, a job, my health, kind parents, an education, Twin Peaks, my lovely sister, the strength to give up smoking, a sense of humor.
But today, I am mostly thankful for my friend Keith. More than thankful, I am lucky to have him enrich my life. We are different yet exaclty the same.
So, what do you know? I've got a friend. A real one. And it rocks. ooh, drama
But today, this post by GriffX about the Taleban's retreat from Kabul reminded by why I stick around. Hear, hear.
And at the local level...
The proprietor of the restaurant I have worked at for over four years was fired this morning. I am in severe shock.
A very short version of this ongoing drama is this:
On his way down, it was his final fuck you to take "the bitch in charge" down with him. He has been trying for weeks to rat her out for something, even if he had to make it up: her knowledge of kitchen employees smoking pot during trash runs, allowing underage employees to drink at the bar. Neither of these things are true.
It finally occurs to Mike that perhaps the truth might be more scathing than a lie. He tells our area supervisor that Cathy (the proprietor) allowed for "open bar" on Mother's Day (the busiest day for restaurants all year). Which she did. After a 14 hour shift, she allowed those who worked to have a few drinks at the bar after we closed. A small, impromptu party.
Apparently, this impromptu party is clearly against the rules and she was let go just this morning. This woman is my friend, and frankly one of the primary reasons I continue to work there. And now, I just don't know.
There is specualtion that there will be even more drama to come. The girl to whom the offensive words were spoken is also a friend of Cathy's. And basically she decided not to sue for just that reason. But with all of these new developments, this may be just the fuel she needs to go ahead with a lawsuit (which, by the way, she will easily win--with witnesses and the nature of the comment).
I'm simply floored. I can't believe what has happened here. I hate to think that the weasily, wormy Mike has gotten the last laugh.
the deb guy
Since then he has made quite a name for himself. He is the frontman for a wildly popular local band, Submethod. In the years since we graduated and drifted our seperate ways I was aware of the near cult following he had created for himself with the 18 and under crowd. Apparently any girl with a penchant for black hair dye and a few holes in her face took an immediate liking to ole Nate. And it has been said that he enjoys his groupies.
And with that I give you The Deb Guy. The Deb Guy is a website created by someone fascinated from afar with Nathan. It is thorough, if not a touch obsessive. I rather enjoyed reading up on Mr. Ells' charmed life and those who worship him.
It didn't take me long to find this--a parody site of the Deb Guy site called The Deb Guy Girl.
Funny what you can find on the internet on a lazy Monday night. This is sort of becoming a theme, isn't it?
(Guilty confession: While writing my legal brief for my Mass Media Law class I dug a half-smoked butt from the trash can and lit it. I took *one* drag, I swear to God, and tossed it in the toilet ashamed and disgusted. How vile. How depraved. But I'll tell you folks, I shan't lie--I *did* inhale.) they say time doesn't exist in the black lodge
(Still no cigarette. Although, oddly, I have begun grinding my teeth.) my blood runs a little cleaner
I have gone more than 48 hours without a cigarette. Tonight I have injested 12 Vitamin C drops, 7 Lifesavers, 3 Hershey's Kisses and a handful of Runts. Oh yeah, and I "smoked" a pencil in a severe moment of desperation.
In order to busy my hands I redecorated a little. I think it looks kind of nice, don't you?
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