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i get so high... |
2002-04-24 |
i swear i had something to write about... but, for the life of me, i can't remember what it is. hey, anyone wanna have a go at the definition of bourgie thug? cause ms. katilena and i are all about them, but i was told last night they didn't exist. so, i'm trying to think of a good definition (cause we all know that to define something is to validate it) with which to prove my "type" is definitely a type. someone called me last night but i was sooooo asleep when i answered the phone that i can't remember who it was. it may have just been a dream - which would fit the theme for last night. i had this crazy dream that i was on the phone with my father and i kept yelling at him for all the shitty phone hijinx he's been pulling lately and i wouldn't let him talk and then i realized it was his voice mail cause, again, he hadn't answered the phone. background: my younger sister has been trying to get in touch with our father for two weeks regarding his health insurance which is supposed to be paying for her meds, but isn't. so, because she's in rejection, she HAS to have like 800 mgs of steroids everyday, added to the other assorted immune suppressents and other anti-rejection medications. they're either gonna make her pay out-of-pocket, or refuse the scripts. so, she's been calling him to get it sorted out and he's never answering. yesterday she blocked her number. he answered on the second ring, after 5 minutes of ringing before the number blockage.... my older sister has been calling. she left a message asking him to call her back, but to wait until wednesday when she gets a land phone (vs cell phone). my dad called her yesterday and when she answered, pretended that he couldn't hear her. she kept saying, dad, i'm here, i can hear you and he kept yelling hello! hello! e! are you there! and then he hung up. when she called him back, he didn't answer. this is why i prefer to not talk to my father at all. when i do, it's usually cause he's trapped me and needs me to assuage his guilt. i don't even know his number. ahh, this wasn't my subject. i don't know what it was, but maybe it'll come to me later. ms. queen, the novel referred to yesterday was written as my master's thesis project. i thought about nanowrimo, but i can't write like that. ttfn
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playing:
reading: White Teeth
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