Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Remember me telling you about John and how he wanted to send me pictures of his kid? Well, I replied and haven't heard from him since. That's so typical of John; next I'll receive an email saying, "Hey, what's up? Haven't heard from ya!" Or else his wife gave him grief for contacting me, "What do you need to write her for?" He assumed I was on a distribution list for baby pictures, presumably his wife's job, and of course I wasn't (not that I care). I found her to be very shallow: concerned with surface appearances and materialistic. I remember that grating manner of speech she affected; not sure if I can describe it, kinda that phony, distancing SoCal hauteur adopted by H.R. personnel. Like they're trying to incite cozy intimacy and pass judgment at the same time. So, whatever. Whether or not I hear back from John is entirely up to him.

Nkmjrt5bhn
Nkmjrt5bhnwpl04e;b b9o
Ll;;;;;...............ujhh

That note was brought to you by Missy, the poet. "Ujhh." I'm gonna have to use that.

Came back from a visit to the folks. Glad to be away from that nasty cigarette smoke. My mom's okay mostly but she gets on my nerves first thing in the morning, yakking and yakking before I've had breakfast or my coffee. Plus in the evening when the news is on, she's such a staunch Republican and supporter of Dubya, it makes me sick. She knows I don't agree so I wish she'd shut the fuck up in my presence.

It was really good to see my pups. Andy is so devoted to me, I swear. He slept with me every night and wouldn't go walking without me, afraid I'd be gone when he returned. We did that trick on the dogs once, having someone walk the dogs while I departed, and that was clearly a mistake. Now they're there so they can see me leave, but Andy throws such a fit when I take off without him. Ugh, it's really hard. Mom said he waited by the window all day long, keeping a lookout for me. Poor sweetie.

posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 11:03 AM

2 Comments:

At 10:30 PM, Blogger Kate the Peon said...

Apparently the day after I leave my parents house, their dog wanders down to my room, sniffing and looking perplexed. He sleeps outside my room when I'm there.

Dogs have a way of making you feel loved.

 
At 12:31 PM, Blogger Poppy said...

Why do people leave it to you to contact them, and even if you do contact them, they act like you didn't? I'm not expecting an answer, just more of an annoyance comment. :)

 

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