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[02 Mar 2007|10:58am] |
www.freeza-inc.com
go!go!go!
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| arf. |
[11 Feb 2007|08:21pm] |
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</3 being sick.
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| www.tarot.com |
[09 Feb 2007|09:24am] |
You may be ready to move closer toward someone who has aroused your interest, but your feelings may be so overwhelming that it's difficult to know if you are moving too fast. Instead of coming on strong, try a gentler approach. There's no need to hide your desires as long as you don't make anyone else uncomfortable with your boldness.
Friday, February 9, 2007
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| 9 msgs, 8 New |
[08 Feb 2007|09:17am] |
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
6/7 of the way done with written plans.
I know you all care.
Work is taking over my life.
jk, since no life.
Let's all play CS.
Yes/No?
There is this boy. Who I absolutely adore. (OMG HOLLY'S TALKING ABOUT BOYS AGAIN)
But, he scares me.
Not like, jump out of my seat, scare me.
Just that, he's different.
He's not like other guys I've dated.
And, I'm afraid I'm not enough.
Oh! Meeting time.
See, there goes work, taking over my life again.
More (probably FO post later)
peace, homefries.
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| Update on an update |
[07 Feb 2007|05:05pm] |
3:05pm.
Written Plans still not complete.
I suck at this.
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| ZOMG! Look, it's an update! |
[07 Feb 2007|09:48am] |
It's 7:45am. I've been at work for an hour.
I'm tired. Grumpy. Completely stressed.
I'm a ball of fucking fun.
Promotion: Operations Coordinator
Effective Date: February 6, 2007
Outlook: Hating it
Current Project: Written Plans due by 9am.
So yesterday I moved from my windowless office on the second floor to my almost corner office with a gorgeous view on the 12th floor.
Momma's moving on up. Of course the 10 floor jump came with 10 floors worth of stress. I wish I could have brought my assistant with me. This new one, isn't so great.
Currently she's got her radio on 3 decimals too loud, listening to some radio preacher ramble on about God. I'm no anti-Christ, but save me. She takes more personal calls than anything else, and she has yet to finish the simple formatting task I gave her yesterday.
Now, I'm not one to rant about slacking off at work. Heaven knows I do my fair share. Difference is, I get my work done PRIOR. I expect the same.
Everyone keeps telling me I seem distant, withdrawn, unreachable.
No.
I just don't want to talk to you.
:] kidding (maybe)
So my birthday is coming up.
2 months.
Start planning.
I expect great things.
You know what else irks me?
People who use your loyalty against you.
"I can treat you like shit and you keep coming back."
Fuck you.
I'm not coming back.
I'm nobody's bitch.
Yeah.
This was completely pointless.
Now stop bitching about me never updating.
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| Lullaby |
[02 Dec 2006|03:21pm] |
This is what passes for civilization.
People who would never throw litter from their car will drive past you with their radio blaring. People who'd never blow cigar smoke at you in a crowded restaurant will bellow into their cell phone. They'll shout at each other across the space of a dinner plate.
These people who would never spray herbicides or insecticides will fog the neighborhood with their stereo playing Scottish bagpipe music. Chinese opera. Country and western.
Outdoors, a bird singing is fine. Patsy Cline is not.
Outdoors, the din of traffic is bad enough. Adding Choppin's Piano Concerto in E Minor is not making the situation any better.
You turn up your music to hide the noise. Other people turn up their music to hide yours. Your turn up yours again. Everyone buys a bigger stereo system. This is the arms race of sound. You don't win with a lot of treble.
This isn't about quality. It's about volume.
This isn't about music. This is about winning.
You stomp the competition with the bass line. You rattle windows. You drop the melody line and shout the lyrics. You put in foul language and come down hard on each cussword.
You dominate. This is really about power.
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| Donkeys are like onions. |
[29 Nov 2006|07:58pm] |
With the real world knocking on my door, I've been burying myself in fantasy, trying desperately to escape reality.
I've got three weeks to drink myself into a nightly stupor. Three weeks to sleep in until noon, to party until the sun comes up. Three weeks to eat poorly, live wildly, throw caution to the wind. Three weeks left on my free pass to sinful pleasure. Three weeks left to use the socially acceptable excuse, the explain all, "I'm just a college kid."
So here I sit at the library. Day three. Book three. This is my wild ride. Losing, if only for an hour, all sense of reality, living through text, page by page.
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| Trick-Or-Treat |
[31 Oct 2006|02:49pm] |
Happy Halloween.
Holly has no plans.
I don't even want to pass out candy to the grimey kids.
I'm going to eat it all myself.
(and a huge huge thanks to Adam and Dave for everything they've done for me in the last week or so.)
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| School Shooting |
[18 Oct 2006|12:50pm] |
He filled the mini van up with fuel.
Dropped his kids off at the school.
Smile faded into a hateful frown
Sped away headed across town
Anger grew, turned onto the dirt road
Grabbed the gun, lock and load
Stormed into the school, gun showing
Screams rang out, panic growing
Cornered, older ones released
Those five young girls, deceased
Stood there watching as they bled
Goodbye, bullet in his own head (the end)
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| Another Love Song |
[03 Oct 2006|11:06pm] |
Dad got a job offer he couldn't decline
Moved to a new city when you were nine.
She next to you in ya science class
Studied with ya, helped you to pass
Developed a strong bond that won't fade
You been best friends since fourth grade
For years you’ve been her crying shoulder
When she hurts, you just want to hold her
She doesn’t see that she is your world.
You'd do anything to make her your girl.
Oh, how you've dreamed of being her man
It’s time, stand and take her by the hand
Planning this for days, got to be a perfect night
Share a stare, over dinner and candle light
Nervously, won't stop playing with her hair
The aroma from the food don't compare,
Flowing locks, button nose, soft pink lips
Curves of her body from her chest to her hips
Gorgeous blue eyes so bright they shine
Tone tan arms, small hands, she's so fine
Even her inner beauty has mesmerized you
Heart skips a beat, the fairy tales are true
Taking her hand you couldn’t ask for more
Music is playing softly on the dance floor
Glance in the mirror, look good in your suit
Tug at the bow, out the door, you’re in route
It's filled with family and friends, lots of smiles
Organ starts to play, white roses line the aisles
Through the veil you can see her glowing face
Walking arm in arm, the slowest possible pace
You see the tears running down her cheeks
Grinning as the preacher begins to speak
Her hand fits into yours like a glove,
You’re completely captivated by love,
Peer into her eyes, ready for this endeavor
Two simple words, she'll be yours forever
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| Club Track |
[02 Oct 2006|08:22pm] |
You say want a trendy party track to bump
So you and Ms. Flava of the week can hump
A beat you can shake it to while you're out
Show off your moves, land some trouser trout
'Fore ya knowit ya, bumping uglies outside the club
Legs around your face, ya chowin down on the grub
Juices flowing, best licking ya ever gave her
The beat changes, she returns the favor
Heads bobbin, you aint feeling it, her techniques flawed
You aint tryin to spend all night with the same broad
Red lips, black mini, ample breasts, your next possibility
Wanna hit it from behind, make her scream aye papi
Eyes follow her lucious curves, intoxicated by her scent
She bites her bottom lip with a wink, thats your hint
Your eyes lock as her hips sway with the beat
Bodies pressed together you can feel her heat
She smiles with pleasure, she grinds against your pole
Trying to maintain composure, about to lose all control
She was feeling you, feeling her until the beat switched
She walked away and you shouted, "Fucking prude bitch"
The clubs closing, and you're still hunting
Floozy on the corner, damn she's stunning
Aint lookin for Mrs. Right, just Ms. Right now.
Wanting to get your rocks off, don't care how.
Made up your mind, don't care if you get caught
Quick look around, you slur, "how much you cost?"
"Babydoll that all depends on what chu want"
Wanna pound her hard, tear apart her cunt.
Pay her for instant gratifaction, she's a pro.
Wake with an itch, whatcha ya get for screwing a ho
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| First day of class. |
[26 Sep 2006|10:52am] |
So, people have been complaining to me, "Holly, you need to update your journal. I check it and check it for something new, but NOTHING!"
So this post is dedicated to all 3 of you who actually read and check for updates. Thanks for being such great fans.
Yesterday was my first day of classes. And by classes I mean one of the two I need in order to graduate. So I got to class a wee bit early. Picked my comfort-zone seat in the second to last row, and watched as boy after boy rolled in and sat down. Two guys came in together laughing and carrying on, they made their way to the seats behind me. Immediately, I knew what they had been laughing at when they walked in. As people straggled in they'd crack a joke about the person.
Our professor is a very, very large black man. When he wobbled in, something about "Nutty Professor" was blurted. I'm not certain if the professor heard.
I'm one of four females in this class. Not that I expected much different. Two girls walked in, one wearing a blue jean skirt that went about 2 inches below her knees and a blue jean sleeveless shirt with tennis shoes and matching blue socks. Her friend had high water jeans pulled up to her bellybutton with a tie-dyed mickey mouse shirt on, sandals with socks. As I was thinking to myself, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." One of the clowns behind me leans forward and says, "Hey look, you've got competition." I let out a little snicker.
A few minutes later, the third and final girl walks in. She looked much less revenge of the nerdish, so I was pleased. She sat down in the front next to the two other girls. "Oh well, so much for that".
The smart guy behind me again couldn't help himself, "Why aren't the girls sitting with you?"
I turned around and blurted, "Because they are trying to stay as far away from you as possible".
His partner in crime released an elongated "oooh", "snap she's feisty too"
I shot him a sarcastic smirk and turned around.
Unfortunately, this class is a lab, so we were broken down into small work groups that remain for the semester. I got paired with tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Oh joy.
What makes this even funnier, is I'm now in my second class, listening to the professor run through the course outline, but next to me in my comfort-zone seat on the second to last row is smart guy number one from yesterday.
It's not bad enough that I'll have to endure him and his sidekick in one class for 3 months. Now I have to put up with him 4 days a week?
Seriously, what did I do to deserve this?
( PS )
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| Too much of a good thing... |
[15 Sep 2006|11:16am] |
People like to imagine that they're a great deal more important than they are, myself included. The funny part is that this is a good thing. I have a couple of friends who are too humble about their talents and are letting them go to waste.
Exchanging sex for money once is prostitution, and widely illegal and frowned upon. Exchanging sex for money on a consistent basis is known as "marriage" and is cheered, welcomed, and considered holy. Thusly, prostitution is only illegal if one is quick and efficient about it.
On the same note, having one successful marriage is good; having multiples is considered polygamy and is also widely illegal. Apparently success can also exist in excess.
Actually, there's probably scores of things which are good singularly and frowned upon in multiples; which is sort of scary from a logical standpoint.
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| Going to the Chapel |
[13 Sep 2006|10:02am] |
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I used to hate going to weddings because all the old ladies would poke me and cackle, "You’re next". They stopped doing it when I started doing it to them at funerals
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| When life hands you lemons, just look to those being pelted with stones. |
[12 Sep 2006|10:21am] |
It's quite disheartening to realize that, after nearly four years of post-high school life, you really haven't accomplished all that much, or succeeded in ways that you had hoped. So it's always a nice morale booster to learn that people from your past are worse off than you. I mean, what's better than basking in the misfortune of others? (Kidding! ...sort of.)
I learned a while back that the kid that lived two houses down from me in my old hometown was tried on four separate counts of arson. Now he'll have seventeen months of alone time to find a new hobby, other than setting things ablaze. I found this rather humorous, yet sadly unsurprising. Everyone in our neighborhood knew he was a little bastard, except his own parents (that's the way it goes). We always joked that he would probably grow up to be a criminal someday. Who knew he would actually live up to it? Even more ironic is the fact that he is..eh, was employed by the fire department. A fine model for future firefighters, no doubt.
So, I may not be a family success story, but at least I didn't grow up to be an arsonist. That must count for something, right?
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