Apr. 7th, 2002

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The DETHCHYXMIXXEN that Carrie made for me has been most useful for alarming my coworkers. KOMPRESSOR CRUSH MORTGAGE COMPANY!

I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. Mostly into myself and dealing with little Tara thoughts that are prone to popping up in my little Tara brain. Not much energy, except to crush my bank and how they love to bounce my checks.

Found a wee model Hearse yesterday in an art supply store. Bemoaned the fact that I have no money with which to buy said wee model Hearse. Pouted for three hours thusly.

NYC was keen, despite the fact that I did more walking up stairs in two days then I've ever done in my entire life of living in Philadelphia. My knees were hating me, if my metabolism was loving it. Sola has many peachy cats who sniffed my bag (the grey one came out of the basement, by the way, when you weren't home. She was examining me while I was lying on the couch, came within maybe two feet until I moved and she realised I wasn't a blanket). Carrie and I got caught in a torrential downpour with nothing but a tiny poppy umbrella to keep us dry. Dry, we were not. Laughing our asses off, we were. Met up with Ja Pix and Brian after much todo, Thai food good. I've never had it before, so that was a good experience.

I've slept a good portion of the weekend, after going out Friday night to the bar with a bunch of coworkers. I've discovered who the stoners are (and made us of their pipe), who the witch is (I was actually surprised for once), and who the drunken playas are (man, was he fucking drunk).

More later, as I have to run for clothing. It's chilly in here.

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