More pictures of my wretched car taken right after the wreck of '99 below.

In the meantime, let me tell you about how my day has been: I woke up, called work to see if I was approved for my personal day today (yes, I was - that's why I'm here in front of the computer typing this right now), called Eloisa to get Sheryll's phone number, got to talking to her for a long time and almost forgot to call Sheryll, called Sheryll to congratulate her about the baby etc. ... now I'm doing laundry and typing this. It's only ten, and I'm awake, it's a wonderful day.

Yesterday I didn't get home until four or four-thirty or so. It was weird 'cos I only had a couple hours of sleep and yet I had all this energy to expend. As I was leaving for work I actually ran to my car ... but that was mostly because there was this snake slithering across the yard toward me ... it was more like a mad dash to my car, really. It must have been the rain. The rain always brings all sorts of scary creatures out of hibernation.

Tuesday night I watched Blade with Brian. He loves that movie. I used to loathe it. My argument: no story. I was wrong. It was very entertaining. I loved the effects. Nice fight scenes. And there is a story to back up all the fancy visuals after all.

As I was leaving Brians, he began to obsess about my jeans. He thinks my butt is cute. Go figure. We both agree he needs contacts, and not just for driving either, not according to me anyway. He's all: those jeans are cool (I was wearing my Levi's 501s, the ones I hardly ever wear any more since I've grown fat), you should wear them more often. I had to explain to him why I stopped wearing them and then he had to drag me back to the room and lecture me in front of the full-length mirror by the bed.

I know for a fact that they used to really look good on me, though. Noone had to tell me that. They were my secret weapon. If I'm crushin' on a guy, I just wear them, make sure he's standing behind me, wiggle my ass a little (we'll maybe not blatantly - you know what I mean), and the next day he'll be introducing himself. Yes, they were that powerful ... at one point.

Now I'm just fat and they no longer gently conform to my countours the way they used to, they're just tight period. I hardly ever wear them anymore. And to think I have two pairs: one regular denim color and one bleached denim. It's just depressing.

One down, one more load to go..

After laundry I think I'm going to clean my room. It hasn't been cleaned in almost a month. The bed hasn't been made in just as long. Want to see what my beed looks like when it's made?

That's what it looked like after Kai made it that one day when he cleaned my room for me. I think I wrote about that a while back. He's always here to cheer me up when I'm down. He's cool. Anyway, here's Kai, the one-man cleaning crew.

After all of that, I'm just chillin' and waiting for my Eddie Bauer package to arrive. Yes, that's the main reason I'm staying home today. Last week, Thursday I think it was, I called to check on the status of my order and Eddie Bauer tells me it was delivered on Monday (not this Monday that just passed, but last week). Guess what. I never got it. I called the post office and Eddie Bauer back and forth trying to make sense of things and figure out what's going on. Noone could tell me what's up. Automatically, almost as a reflex, I think: Jen! I can't trust her. Can you blame me?

Anyhow, I called on Monday and they're resending it expedited delivery via UPS this time. I'm going to be here to make sure it doesn't magically disappear again.

My sister can be such an asshole sometimes. Like one morning, I woke up late. I really didn't have much time to get ready for work and she was making breakfast so I thought: cool, how convenient. I ask her what she's making and she just snaps at me, "You can't have any!"

Why is it that whenever I make breakfast, I make enough for the three of us (her, her boyfriend Matt and I) ... but when she's making it, she can only make enough for two? Now, you tell me there is nothing wrong with that picture.

And you wonder why I was neither surprised nor sympathetic when I found out Matt dumped her sorry-ass. It's about goddamn time he woke up! He can do so much better than an immature little twat like that. Whatever. I just want to live and let live. I try to minimize my dealings with Jen. She's just so two-faced. Plus, I just loathe people who think of the truth as relative ... people who think they can omit details and mold and stretch facts to suit their needs.

But anyway, I'm going to quit know before I whine any further. Here are the rest of the car pictures..