et puis
disclaimer: this is the life and times of meredith r. mistletoe. i'm making a slight attempt to disguise my identity and hide things that i write about and pretend i don't feel things i do. but if you read this and i don't know you read it, then you read it at your own risk. and you should let me know you're reading it... especially because a lot of the time things need clarifying or aren't quite true anymore or etc etc etc.

note: potential employers: please do not judge me on my diaryland. that's lame.

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2007.10.22 1:04 p.m.


I'm a good updater because I'm avoiding all the other kinds of writing. So badly. I hate writing.

Yesterday in one spot I wrote "me" instead of "him". Is that a Freudian slip? If you notice where it is, I will give you a prize. The prize will be my cock.

AlexPB is ridiculously good-looking. But really. But the kind that you don't notice at first. The kind of beauty that you have to stop her and really look and you realize that she's gorgeous. She's funny and wonderfully awkward. We wandered around Cabbagetown, where it felt more like autumn than it has in any other part of the city. It's such an old part of town with so many trees that you have to wade through the fallen leaves at the sides of the roads. One of my favourite things to wade through. We found many neat walls and doors and colours to shoot in front of. I'm a little bit worried about light though. Hmm. We'll see. I wish I had a digital camera to at least do test shots with. And I need to get a light-weight tripod asap.
AlexPB's apartment is wonderful as well. It's the sort of apartment I might consider moving out of my apartment for. If I were richer and if it were in my neighbourhood (Almost four years and I think I love my neighbourhood more than ever. If only I could hold a relationship like that...). Her apartment is a perfect tiny white one-bedroom with big windows and straight walls, which are much better for space usage than my sloped ones. I do love my sloped ones... but they do make everything seem smaller.

I'm thinking about biting the big one and buying some actual furniture to go in here. A new futon instead of my curb-mattress and the unsteady platform I built, maybe. And some proper shelves and a wardrobe I could cover. Right now the rail of clothing is pretty much the focal point of the whole place.

These days are filled with tiny breakdowns but then I turn on the TV and America's Funniest Home Videos won't let me be sad.
I pictured where Third would live and what he probably listens to do and how he lives his life and I couldn't imagine it being good.
I don't know.
I'm reminded of when I dated that business man when I was, what, eighteen or so. I just push things. Oh, it's possible for you to have a crush on me? Let's see how much I can get away with.
The business man had the emptiest biggest house I've ever experienced. His closet had a few suits and not much else. He was fascinated with me, and it seemed like that could be enough.
Hmm. But he was an idiot. A big, big idiot. And Third is obviously not.
But I am not convinced that I actually have a crush on Third. Just the way I'm sort of panicked about it is not a good sign. I am needing distractions and I am incapable of just stopping with babes.
I had dreams last night of trying to orchestrate situations in which I would feel okay about making out with people I wasn't completely interested in.
Yeah. They weren't even sexy dreams. I'm boring.

I have to look for another job today. I have virtually no shifts at ACC this week.
I should use this opportunity to Get Things Done.
I will.

previously - and then

*oh random entry*

all the diarylands. - 2008.02.21
I move my head. - 2008.01.27
read the other one. - 2008.01.21
was Medium? - 2008-01-17
Or maybe I won't. - 2008.01.15

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