2002-02-12~~10:31 a.m.
Tuesday Shmuesday
So as of this morning, I still have not spoken with my boyfriend in person, since he left for San Diego on Saturday morning. This is simply unacceptable. I do not like this lifestyle one iota. Thus, I am requesting that everyone who reads this diary write a quick email to him demanding that he acquire a cell phone so I can talk to him. His email address is [email protected]. He will be very surprised to find emails from all of you. Thanks in advance. He has so far (until being activated) resisted this step into technological advancement saying "I don't like the idea of people being able to get me anywhere I am." Okay. But now that he obviously has about 2 spare minutes a day to chat, I'd like to be able to leave him messages in case I am otherwise occupied when he calls. Also, there is something to be said for not having to get off the phone for other people who are waiting. With your own cell phone, it's your OWN CELL PHONE. But now, he mentioned before leaving, that maybe he wouldn't get one (he was so close, too!) because they apparently don't work too well at Camp Pendleton. This is not a good reason. At least I could leave messages, right? Christ. I will not be annoyed. No I will not. ~~~~~ DadButt/PastelMan is at the Olympics. There is something irritating about this fact, but I can't put my finger on what it is. Maybe I just think everything about him is irritating. ~~~~~ Had another run-in with Steve from Whisler last night. Yep, sure did. He left a message for us on our home phone AFTER I called and left our work numbers for him to avoid that very thing. I then called HIM back at work and spoke to Robert, his boss, and then when Robert clued in to my irritation with their entire system of landlording, he transferred me to Steve's voicemail. AFTER I TOLD HIM THE WHOLE SORDID STORY. So I left ANOTHER nasty message on Steve's voicemail and he later called us to offer to come pick up our spare key. So I eventually came face to face with LimpNoodleSteve. It wasn't really that great. I prefer to avoid face-to-face contact with people I'm trying to be a bitch to. Steve had nice blue eyes and was in his 40s. It's harder to be mean to older people, especially ones with bosses as irritating as Robert. (clue: maybe I should focus my bitchiness on Robert, instead. Because he's really the clueless one, not knowing anything about what Steve is up to. And he always passes the buck, which is the most annoying thing you can do...) But now I write to you while the plumber works on finding our water heater. I have to go take a shower right now while he goes to get parts, otherwise, I will be late for Gay Crew. Ta-ta! p.s. What is it about Chinese ice skaters with bad teeth?? Yikes! I hope one of the perks of winning the bronze is free orthodonture...
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