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2006-06-20 @ 6:35 p.m.
sometimes I just feel, I don't know....normal, ya know!

dear diary:
Today my shrink and I did this most intriguing thing. He grabbed onto this long skinny thing and I steadied it with my hand until it was lined up shall I say this discreetly? The hole (wink, wink). And then he started guiding it in, everso gently into said hole. And it fit amazingly well (as I knew it would.). But I was like, surely we can GO a little deeper, right? And he was like:

"How totally shagadelic baby, but we're only putting a fan together."
(riotious laughter from me)

I'm sorry, I just had to write that for "A" today. Because I helped him put together a tall stand up fan during my session and the minute he stood there with a long metal pole in his hand, needing to insert it into the reciprocating receptical I was holding in my hand, we both looked at each other for a split second and there was this subconscious "whoop, whoop, whoop. sex alert. sex alert". And then I think I said something like, "So I guess we're talking about sex today then?" To which he kind of briefly grinned, but then took the part from me and screwed it together himself as I said, "Dear diary, today my shrink and I...."

Incidentally, my shrink is a very good guy and would never do anything inappropriate nor say the word "Shagadelic". Also there were no animals harmed in the making of this video and well, that's all you need to know, ok?

Anyways, it was a fairly lightweight session fortunately, because he's getting ready to go on a two week vacation. I told him that I decided against the Target job. I didn't give him all the reasons, but for your information, they included a trip to some internet sites where people were complaining about them as employers. I believe the website was called something like There was a lot of complaints about low pay, lack of support from management, high expectations of keeping the store in tiptop shape even though they were constantly being called away from their areas to go work at the cash registers. And then they would get yelled at by management because their areas weren't clean. Plus there was this "I am happy and I love our customer" song they were expected to sing and know. Me be happy and love customers? HA! I mean I can fake it for short periods of time, but having to stand and sing some fake happy song every morning in a circle with other employees sounded pretty dumb ass to me. Plus probably in about three weeks I'd back straightening bottles of astringents in the cosmetics department thinking up new lyrics that included the word "Satan" and "Douche-bags".

So I've once again set my mind on getting a job at the yuppie grocery store. I've applied there 3-4 times and always only get a postcard saying "Thanks but no thanks". But I really want to work there. They are one of the best companies in the U.S. to work for as listed by Forbes Magazine. They are nice to their employees. And its only 2 miles from my house. Plus they are open 24 hours a day, so I could works nights if I wanted to, plus still have Wednesday off for my art class and time for the shrinkster. Plus the pay is higher, with even higher pay on Sunday with regular raises and scholarships for the employees. Etc.

Plus somebody who lives here at Twin Peaks works there. Freaky Eyebrows....the first person I ever met when I moved here. She's a little oddball lady with four cats who knows absolutely all the gossip in the entire complex. The apartment directly above her was available when I moved here, but I decided against it because she seemed like such a damn busy-buddy. I'm very private. I didn't want some weird lady recording the number of steps I took after midnight and telling the landlord I was noisy. Plus I wanted to live on the back half of the complex where the creek and trees were. But she's okay to talk to.

And we've been talking more during the summer because when I head out for a walk everynight, she's out on her porch with her cats pretending to read, but really microscopically recording everything in the complex. Plus she's the one who told me the Mad Garden Hacker guy was depressed because his wife had just divorced him. Gee, I wonder why?

Anyhoo, so we were gossiping talking last night about Crazy Shears and about the young guy who lives one apartment over who had partied over the weekend. The last time I could still hear him partying was about 2:45 a.m. I had heard this loud metallic thud out in the street and then some guy yell, "Dude, learn to drive." I was thinking it should really be more "Dude, don't drink and drive", since all these assholes were drunk out of their gourds and singing and crashing cars at almost 3 a.m.

Anyways, I suggested to Freaky Eyebrows that maybe the Mad Garden Hacker might be manic, since he was so out of control. And then she said she was bipolar. And I'm like, hey, I'm bipolar too. And suddenly I started to wonder if this whole place wasn't like Bipolarville Apartments, because everyone I've met here is, well, a little bipolary.

Oh, and in case you're wondering why Freaky Eyebrows is named accordingly, its because she has the weirdest drawn eyebrows evah! I mean, she looks permanently alarmed with these huge over drawn big-ass super arched Divine-inspired eyebrows that practically go into her freakin' hairline. Its really hard not to stare. And this woman has a boyfriend, if you can believe that! And boy does she ever want to tell you about him.

"Oh me and my boyfriend went to the world wrestling federation wrestlin' match over the weekend. Yup."

Why am I not surprised? The WWF. Don't they cater to people with weirdly drawn eyebrows, who shop at Walmart and name their cats after the disciples of Jesus? But then again, she may be the key to me getting a job at the yuppie grocery store. She works in maintenance and said she'd put in the good word for me. And a good word from Freaky Eyebrows in maintenance is like money in the bank, baby!

So I was telling "A" about my decision to try and get into the yuppie grocery store. He was trying to help me sell myself as a maintenance person. Like go in and say, "YES, YES, YES! I want to clean up pee on the toilet seats in the ladies room because I'm awesome!" Somehow those two things just don't quite go together. Cleaning pee and being awesome. So I decided that I'd just try to go in and say I'm all about teamwork and I really want to work for one of the best companies in the country and yes I'll work on christmaschunnakanawyearseasterfatherdays AND Summer Solstice if you'll hire me!! Woot! Plus I'll make about $200 more a month than I do now. And no crazy people. Just yuppies. Yes, I do realize there are certain similarities, but at least yuppies bathe and know who George Stephanopoulos is.

And then "A" said, "Maybe you'll meet someone!" And I was like, "Who would want to date the woman sweeping bird seed on aisle 19?" Him: "You never know!" He also said he might know someone for me who is in the process of getting a divorce. I made a joke that I'd probably like him better if he was still wearing a wedding band and "A" gave me "the look". I know, bad witty (a.k.a. husband borrower). I just hope, its someone better than that putrid Nanny Guy from two summers ago. Yargh!!

Anyways, as I was walking out of "A"s appointment I met up with Harold the Geek. I haven't seen him in a long time, even though I only live two blocks from him and walk by his house every night when I go out walking. "A" had told me his mom had just died (he was a 50 something man, still living with mom. Kind of a Norman Bate-ish if you ask me. What? You didn't ask me? Oh...heh...). And even though he's a Geek, he does have a good sense of humor. He told me he was going to be coming to my door shortly with some political stuff. He's a local...UGH....Republican-type person, who does door-to-door campaigning for local politicians. I threw up my fingers in the sign of a cross, like you do to protect yourself from vampires. He chuckled. He then said, "If you want to draw and quarter me and hang me in the basement upsidedown..."

You wish. But I just told him that there was a dark room with the dirt floor off the laundry room at my apartment he might enjoy.

He smiled again. Yeah, Norman Bates would like something like that in the basement. (evil eyebrow). mother's wig. (evil, maniacal grin). mother's cotton flowery dress (him softening suddenly and then breaking out into a chorus of "I Feel Pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright. And I pity, any girl who isn't me tooooo-night!!!!"

God, I hope this isn't the guy "A" has in mind. Please, dear god, no!

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty