bridge troll toll
I am reading half my blog tonight. I think I am going to print it all off and goldmine it for jokes. I need to start stand up again. I am so nervous about it. I just have this weird love-hate thing going on for it. I am supposed to be studying but umm whatever. I'm not. Nick is supposed to call me on his walk home from work but I am thinking maybe he forgot or maybe he got a drive or got drunk because he is depressed about the bus drivers being on strike.
Okay, sometimes, I mean, sometimes I am pretty funny in re-reading my blog I am like oh nice but at other times I get this weird feeling looking back at my writing about my life. I feel like my brain is just this desert and there is just the occasional giant tiger bag swirling across it instead of a tumbleweed type thing. Like my thought vocabulary is limited and strange.
I have a new pretend grandson now. Oh man tho, I am extra effing crazy about this one. I almost can't even handle pretending to be his grandma because I want him so bad. Anyway he has a girlfriend so I guess grandma is just gonna have to get over it, ungh.
Agh, I want Nick to call I have so nervous energy right now. I danced around my room a lot today. Ooo and I cleaned house too. I think I am going to do some cooking this week for Christmas spirit, maybe some cookies for our party at work and chili for whoever wants to be my friend.
My speakers weren't working for a month and then today I think I just somehow willed them to work. I have been going crazy without music especially since my neighbour is getting crazier all the time. His new thing is that he thinks he is in the mob or something and he is constantly in the middle of some deal gone wrong, like he is yelling out "WHERE IS THE FUCKING MONEY?!?!?!" all the time and "WHY DID I COME DOWN HERE IF YOU DIDN'T BRING THE FUCKING MONEY?!?!?!" He is also getting pretty violent; I think he was outside beating on the fence? the other night, and this morning he was angrily slamming the lids of the garbage cans over and over. If he is not living out the weird mobster fantasy he is usually listening to rock radio really loud and singing along. I don't know what to do about it. Tell the landlord I guess, but what is he gonna do about it? Plus I feel bad for the guy because as much I hate listening to him play out this weird mobster fantasy over and over I know it must be worse to be the one stuck in it. I wish this blog had sound because I can do a pretty good impression of when he says "WHERE IS THE FUCKING MONEY?!?"
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