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2002-06-08 - 5:38 p.m. i wanna go to cool places tonight...i wanna go to cool places with you...sparks w/ jane wiedlin hola, i just got home from this bbq. ughhh, i know better than to go places w/ people i don't know, but i went anyway. danny swore up and down that he wouldn't leave me alone, but the minute we got there, later. bastard. so, i'm standing around, drinking my beer, and trying not to feel too uncomfortable. then, this girl comes up to me, and starts talking, so i'm trying to answer her, but she can't hear me, cuz i'm not talking loud enough, and i was getting real embarrased, and i just wanted to leave. i don't really wanna talk about it anymore. i do wanna mention one thing though, the girl, i think her name was mirella, she called me, "mijo". she's like the 922nd girl who has called me that in my life. see, for mexican/latina girls to call a guy, papi, or papa, is fairly common, but mijo is like little boy, i guess i project this image, and i think it's so strange. i'm sure i put out a vibe, cuz we all do, but, i swear i'm not really aware of a specific image i try to put out to the world. i'm not a "tough guy", or a, "cool guy", or, a construction worker, leather daddy, or indian chief...but, i certainly don't think i'm a helpless little boy. i mean c'mon, you know? it's definitely NOT the image i'm "going for" when i wake up, put myself together, and walk out the door everyday. i don't know. weird. anyway, danny comes up to me, and mirella, and i told him i was jamming. then he gets bent. i'm like, hey asshole, i only came cuz you said you weren't gonna do what you just did, so late-. ANNOYING. so, mirella tells me, "bye mijo". oh fucking brother, dude. so, i'm walking home, thank god this shindig was in smltwn, and i'm thinking about the mijo thing, and i remember that when i first started at my current job, this girl patty, christened me, "mijo", and afterwards, for like the longest time. everyone called me that. the rest of the guys had cool nicknames, like, tommy guns, billy biceps, poquito, me quieres, daniel-san, and i was mijo. whatever. so, apparently i'm a sweet little kid, just trying to make his way in the world. how fucking barf inducing is that? oh well...oh, i can't find the belt i wear every goddam day of my life. it's like nowhere. matt keeps swearing up, and down that he hasn't seen it, used it, or touched it. i wear it everyday to work, and it's always, ALWAYS on the floor by my bed. cuz when i get home from work, i take it off, and drop it on the floor. and now, it's inexplicably gone. poof. we sometimes share clothes, but i don't think he's ever worn that belt. i've got my cool studded rocker belt, but i don't wear that to work. so where the fuck is my "work belt"? i'm a whiny little bitch today. maybe i am a little boy. waa waa waa. i really need to not write in here when i've got nothing to say. matt's on his way from work, and i don't know what we're gonna do. frankly, i don't wanna do shit. all i wanna do is have a little fun before i die...until the sun comes up over santa monica boulevard...later.... |
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