q & a
Friday, Feb. 10, 2006
@ 11:06 p.m.
today and for the first time, this diary will serve its most primitive function: diary. if you're reading this, humour me and play the role of my prying mother. drink a little sherry and make a run at the stash. please do not break character.
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dear diary,
today was the nouveau worst. fears were confirmed: i had bad hair (lopsided cowlick), i wasted time (watched a thousand people walk into a stadium) and was unappreciated (forgotten in the coffee run). there are so many questions in life, especially in regard to the wherabouts of my hot chocolate mix. kindly do the courtesy of answering a few?
Q ~ at what point is one considered "grown up"?
A ~ at one's tallest. before the effects of gravity become evident and after all growth spurts and platform shoes are taken into account.
Q ~ that applies to me. why, then, do i not have a real job?
A ~ real jobs are for graduates. a graduate is someone who finished what they started and has a gleaming diploma or degree to show for it. being grown up is not enough. one must be responsible.
Q ~ but i am responsible. i'm a manager!
A ~ so what? look, maybe you haven't reached your intellectual apex yet. you know, the point just before the effects of gravity become evident. compensate. put on some nice clothes. do your hair.
Q ~ is it not appropriate, then, to wear pigtails to work?
A ~ from experience, no. forty-something male co-workers -- especially those who have not seen their own penis in a few days -- would seek to humiliate you for personal gain. in his constant struggle to assert himself as an alpha male, no man could allow the possibility of sexual references to schoolgirls to trump any sense of common decency or inhibition he could previously have exerted in the direction of not making sexual references to schoolgirls. in this busy time of year, ripe with customers who want to pick fights for sport, it may occur to you to wear pigtails as a defense mechanism. you may not think anyone would verbally attack a manager who was so evidently cute, and obviously cuddly. be assured that this is not the case.
Q ~ so i'll be treated like a kid as long as i act like one?
A ~ something like that.
Q ~ alright. well, i guess that wraps up the relevant questions. but while i have your attention, could you tell me what Wal-Mart's stance is, on whores?
A ~ fuck 'em! anything else?
no, that's pretty much all. oh, diary. for the past fifteen minutes, you've been, like, the window to my long-lost adolescent soul or something. thank you for your seemless answers to all the tough questions.
sincerely,
a|i
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i don't think this format is going to work for me. it's difficult to imagine that some people would keep what they think is a private diary on the internet, but i know that i'm not writing into a bubble. luckily for all of us, that means that this page is generally not inclusive of a play-by-play of my least intelligent questions about who i am.