Monday, October 29, 2001
Bah. In Arizona, there is no such thing as Daylight Savings Time.

I feel like I was robbed of an hour of free sleep.


(Please note that next spring I will be singing the praises of saving an hour...)


Sunday, October 28, 2001
I find it very fitting. During the period where this is "the end" and you are "the ex", you'd think I would be on the downslide, slowly drowning in my naiveté and my sorrow only to surface in a period of weeks, months, whatever it takes to get away from the way you made/didn't make me feel. And yet... somehow, I am stronger than I was last time I was unappreciated. Last time I was just a simple girl with complex issues and now I am a complex girl with simple ones. You missed out. You really have no idea how sorry I am that I let it go this far without somehow removing my blinders and seeing it for what it really was. Some part of me, some egotistical narcissistic part of me wanted you to seek resolution. To try and talk me out of walking away. But you didn't. It's a funny thing too. I can walk away considerably faster and fashionably more upright when I am not bound by the ankles to something I had been dragging for miles and miles. Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to finally see the nature of things. Thank you for allowing me to love, yet to find love in return where and when love shall find me. Thank you for making me more complex, while making everything simpler. And mostly, thank you for proving to me that it isn't me. It never was. It's you.


Saturday, October 27, 2001
Can I possibly watch this anymore?

Apparantly I'm not the only one...


According to Sarah, the only difference between a funk and a groove is a horn section.

As I am sans horn, this must be a funk.


Wednesday, October 24, 2001
I think it says something about a hospital when the hold muzac is Elvis singing Hymns.

oh boy.


work. clockout. open door. turn key. drive. drive. drive. blam. hiss. pull over. get out. hot stink. torn rubber. dark. no moon. open trunk. jack. jack. jack. turn. stuck. turn. stuck. rusty lugnuts. tap foot. wait. wait. turn. stuck. wait. cars pass. wait. wait. flashing lights. car behind. woman. officer. calls husband. wait. turn. stuck. husband. turn. turn. switch. tighten. tighten. handshake. wave. thank. drive. drive.

Damn you honda, why have you forsaken me?!?
(but, I love you anyway. you haven't made me dead yet, and for this I am thankful.)


Tuesday, October 23, 2001
I am being so strong.

I need to do this, I need to.


So Woman X calls about my resume on She leaves her name and number on my machine, and says to call her back for an interview. I'm really excited, as this is a job closer to my field.

Fast forward 20 minutes.

next message
"Hello, Kimberly, this is Woman X from...." and she hangs up.

Same woman. Same phone-voice. damn.


It's 3.30 am, and I can't sleep. My mind is full of contemplation and confusion.

I want to tell him what he has done to hurt me, and tell him I can't be friends/more than friends with him anymore. But, I heard he is going over there. Do I resume my emotional-doormat position so I don't end it in case something happens, or do I go on with what I feel, tell him it's completely through, and hope that he comes back in one piece so I can continue not contacting him? (yes, run-on sentences... but if you only knew the state my mind is in, these are fragments, at best.)


Monday, October 22, 2001

I wonder, when a former, or current MUDder gets a promotion at work, do they get on the intercom, and shout:


---this is exactly why wil wheaton is funny. He just understands...


Sunday, October 21, 2001
My favorite Red Meat moment...

Thank you Max Cannon!


By some random act of karma, it appears that I left the disk with all of my portfolio work on it at school last quarter. The odds of me getting it back are considerably less than the odds of this picture NOT scaring the hell out of you.

(yes, I am QUITE aware that it is the glorious Onion, but good god, that's just scary.)


According to, my porn name is Joey Evergreen. That could work...


Monday, October 15, 2001
I used to have a secret crush on Billy Bob Thorton... then I learned of his fear of antique furniture.


Sunday, October 14, 2001
In sixth grade, my mother, sister and I had just moved into a new house after living with my grandparents. New (to us) house, new neighborhood, new school... (in Texas sixth grade was still at the elementary school. Junior High was seventh, eighth and ninth, etc.) I seemed to fit in just fine. Made some good friends, had some excellent teachers... then it happened.


At 8:10 a.m. my mother dropped me off in front of the school. I proudly got out, obscenely oversized bonnet brushing the door as I leaned to get up. I stepped out, adjusted my huge diaper and tights, put on my enormous pink bib and squeek-nuk, and shut the door. "Have a great day and have fun!" my mother shouted from the minivan. "You look cute!" And with that, she drove away. I headed into the school to meet not kids in vampire suits and Kmart masks, but kids dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts, mouths agape as I walked down the hall. The giggling was obvious, and my pace quickened as I raced for the bathroom. The hallway seemed to stretch on infinitely. The laughter of classmates rang in my ears. I reached in my backpack, took out my jeans, removed the 12 inch baby pin from my diaper, and changed into the jeans and t-shirt I had brought along in case it was too chilly. (Thank god for mom!) Crying, I washed off the eyeliner freckles on my cheeks. I sat down in one of the stalls and proceeded to cry of embarrassment for a good 10 minutes. Finally, I swallowed my pride, composed myself and went to class. Our teacher made an announcement that day (I assume specifically for me) that the Kindergarten and First Grade Halloween Costume parade would take place after lunch, and that they were the only ones who got to dress up. *sigh* I was called Baby for months after that.

Beautiful, isn't it? Of all of the costumes, I had to be a baby the ONE year my new school doesn't all dress up. And I wasn't just a baby, I was a baby with oversized accessories. Damn.


Saturday, October 13, 2001
You know you are poor when you start rationing the ramen.


Thursday, October 11, 2001
When I was younger, I was definately a tomboy. I would be the token tag-along sister as my brother and his friends played "army" and legos. It was great. My brother and I used to be pretty close until the divorce, so it was natural that I would do boyish things. One of my favorite things to do was catching grasshoppers. Their little shiny green bodies were no match for my fast-as-lightning kung-fu grip. I would snatch them up as soon as they would emerge from the grass, and quickly stuff them in a wooden box built with screen sides and a round hole in the top. At the time, it was really fun...

Now, the damn things scare me. "Crunchy bugs" I call them. Actually, I have given that label to any bug with an exoskeleton (save the cutesy bugs - ladybugs and such). You may have already seen my entry on the horrors of crickets here. Well, it got much more gross. I found a small cockroach (yes - cockroach!!!) in the front hall a couple days ago. It is a very small one, so it's not so bad that he made it in the house... and he IS belly up, so that's a good sign. However, I kid you not, his legs continued to twitch for two days. TWO DAYS! iiiiiiccccccck... So, I found it in my heart of hearts to grab the Raid and squirt his belly to put both of us out of our misery. Yet, he lived two more days. That's just sick and wrong. What makes matters worse, he is STILL a crunchy bug, dead or alive, and I am too yucked out to scoop him up and throw him away. ack. At least he's dead now. That whole "post-apocolyptic cockroach/cher thing" came to mind the minute I sprayed him. Yuck.


God. I feel like a kid in a candy store. I missed you cable modem!


Wednesday, October 10, 2001

Finally I can feed my fix at home again. I found the last of my driver disks, and all is now well...

Did you ever have one of those days where you just can't dance around the house enough?? I have been in this uber-perky mood and have been singing and giggling all day. It's scary. Trust me, you don't want to see this. It's like a really bad Spice Girls video in this house right now (uh... wait a minute... they ALL were bad... anyway...)

Off to go work for peanuts.


Saturday, October 06, 2001
At home, I'm still getting error messages, and I haven't even been reconnected to the internet yet.

Geocities doesn't want to let me edit my page (the changes I have made are not the changes that appear.)

Saturday classes are the workings of Satan himself.

My phone hasn't had a dial tone in 18 hours.

I went to bed at 4 a.m, due to a horrible addiction to Riven.

This morning, I had coffee outside with my neighbors. They made me pancakes. The air was fresh and cool.

A cutie from school gave me the best hug I've had in ages.

Welcome to my nutshell.


Thursday, October 04, 2001
Sweet Lord.

My computer took a big shit. Had to reinstall *cough* WinDOwS and now can't configure half the damn drivers. Bitter? Nah. Jonesing? Hell yeah.

My car needed a new distributer. After 2 bouts of towing, 2 different shops and a great rental car named "Sonata", I have extinguished even my change jar. I also have been heard mentioning the idea of selling my soul to Milhouse....

My step-dad's father died. It is a tough thing to imagine after 6 years NOT having him there. He was a wonderful man who, until his stroke (which caused too many problems for him to live much longer), was doing pretty well. He had just gone golfing not 3 weeks ago. Weird.

So, my lack of updates has been for reasons out of my control. Hopefully, tonight I can find the driver disk for my cable modem so I can get my connection working again. Otherwise, I am healthy, my car is healthy, and I got a free Jack(tm) antenna head at lunch, so I'm in a fantastic mood.

I am, however, still horrified that they switched hosts on Change of Heart. She is not only annoying as all hell, and her voice drives me to want to jab newly-sharpened pencils in my ears, but she really shouldn't wear what they give her to wear. I liked the guy with the painted-on goatee better.