2007-01-19 @ 9:56 p.m.
Interior awittykitty brain (which rather strangely resembles Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory complete with chocolate waterfalls) is softly flickering and we can hear two distinct voices talking. Witty One. Witty Two.
Witty One: (worried) So, you think they’ll notice?
Witty Two: Of course they’ll notice you idiot, your template looks totally different.
Witty One: (angsty) But I didn’t mean to do it. I was just looking at some new templates on some website and the type was really small, so I went into the HTML code and made the necessary adjustments for old lady eyes and suddenly WHOOOOOOOSH, my whole template was suddenly gone, finito, hasta la vista, baby! I nearly screamed!
Witty Two: You did scream.
Witty One: No I didn’t!
Witty Two: Yes you did!
Witty One: Whatevah, bitch. I did know that I kept the HTML code of my current template somewhere in my e-mail file.
Witty Two: Oh, you mean the one with 30,000 old e-mails to Married Guy. How would you ever be able to find it.
Witty One: Because it said Diaryland HTML, smart ass. I’m smarter than I look.
Witty Two: And??
Witty One: Okay, it was from my original Diaryland template from 3 years ago and I lost everything... (weeping profusely)....
Witty Two: (feeling guilty) Oh witty one, that template is so cool. Its the Beatles, after all. It has Beatles lyrics. And it has that cool blackbird artwork!! Nobody is THAT cool!
Witty One: Really??
(see how bipolars talk and comfort themselves?)
So yeah, I lost everything with a single key stroke. I do realize I can go back on the archive page and probably rebuild everything, but I think I will just call this a new beginning for now. Because that’s my new motto today...NEW BEGINNINGS. Who cares if we’re almost three weeks into the new year? I’m Aquarius and since when do I abide by schedules?
I spent a good part of this afternoon, purging my e-mail folder of every single e-mail ever written between me and Married Guy. There were close to 275 of them. Why were they still there? No reason really, except maybe as some tenuous thread to my past that I supposedly needed to have there. I didn’t read all of them of course, but I did some. Some reminded me of our good times (we were funny together), but others irked the hell out of me like the one where he invited me to help kidlet and then asked me to stay an extra 3 hours so I could take his older son to a music lesson. And I could even use his kickin’ SUV! Lucky me. That was wrong on so many levels. Why? Because 1) He had a wife. Why couldn’t she do it? 2) He supposedly “rewarded” me with a spin in his stunning SUV. I mean what more could a Food Stampian girl want? 3) He just always assumed I would say yes, since my universe revolved around him, (which it (cough) did), but it didn’t mean it was right.
And then another time he asked me to house-sit, saying it would be like a vacation away from my “small miserable apartment”. Gee, thanks. Why didn’t we alert the media so that they could take a picture of you handing me (the poor girl on disability) the keys to your lovely shabby chic estate, before you headed off to the Hamptons with your wife and kids. Yeah, that whole thing certainly made me feel
So that was my afternoon. That and a quick jaunt to the store since we’re expecting a big blizzardy snow thingie tonight and tomorrow. I swear, everyone was acting like a bunch of fritzed out lemmings. You’d think we were going to be snowed under for like three weeks. I certainly hope not since I only got three cans of cat food. And I totally know that Guardcat would try and gnaw off one of my limbs if we ran out of Whiskas.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty