Sidetracked



Whipped Cream and Ice Cubes

Aren't check marks strange? These silly little lines that lean back and stick their feet up in the air, and they are supposed to represent something more meaningful. Why check marks? I prefer Xs.
Well I am just wiped out. I spent a good chunk of time last night helping the photo editor put together a "coverage list" to delegate to the staff on Tuesday. He told me that he is threatening our editor to quit if we don't get more help from her on these mind-numbing projects. If he quits, we're all going to be in trouble. But I told him I didn't blame he for wanting to leave. It's a thankless, dysfunctional job for little pay. So on top of the whirlwind of work over the weekend, I experienced a couple of disturbing moments. I guess you could call them that. I was almost kidnapped by two strange men when I got my car inspected on Saturday. It's a long story, but to shorten it, I put myself in a bad situation and was hit on by a fat greasy man, and I was asked inappropriate questions. During this uncomfortable incident I was thinking if I was a guy this wouldn't be happening. Which is true. Silly me, for a moment I thought that the world I live in was a safe place. That I could do as I please without being targeted, harassed, and/or victimized, because it shouldn't matter that I don't have a penis between my legs or testosterone running through my body. This situation wasn't a HUGE deal, because I managed to leave the inspection place physically unharmed, but it is kind of a big deal. And yes, I am angry.
Then after being mentally shaken, I stupidly rented Blue Velvet, which came recommended to me by Mike and Lauren. I sat in my dark apartment alone while it rained outside, and watched what I could describe as probably the most disturbing movie I've ever seen. I'm going to have to parent myself more often when it comes to the images I fill my mind with.
I should have rented a comedy.

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