(yes i noticed the mood swings that seem to appear in this entry. i'm pms-ing. leave me alone.)

good lord, i swear i didn't mean to start that conversation at work. all i said was "colleen, you're girly. you got any lotion?" and its true. she's girly. and she has a purse. my experience has been that girls with purses often have lotion of some sort. my tattoo itched, i just needed some lotion.

somehow, this started an hour long conversation involving: me, alice, colleen, and kyle (who got dragged into it). and yes, colleen is girly. so is alice (she was a cheerleader. i mentioned this to the kids at work. hee!). and so am i too a certain bit (my shoe-shopping thing). but sweet jeebus, i swear i didn't mean to start the conversation. i just needed some lotion.

(i also walked up to kyle, and said "kyle, you're girly, got any lotion?" which was really funny, and i guess you had to be there. which you weren't. shame on you)

and now for a bit of random-ness (what are you talking about? i'm never random..): things in my pockets: my wallet, a pen, a tin of sour altoids, $1.01 in change, tube of chapstick, tolin and kyle's subway orders written on the back of a piece of paper with trevor's prescription hours on it.

guess what i have written on my arm? a phone number for some guy in england named peter. its a very long number.

so, speaking of, i got to call england today. i was working 3's, and ended up working this account for mr. peter from england. it was actually an easy account. i told the parent that i came across the account and asked if she wanted me to work it. she said yes. she spent like 15 minutes trying to find a address directoy online, while it took me 2 minutes to find the country code for england. we already had the number and area code, just not the country code. so i called it, and it was the right number, tra la la, and it somehow ended up with the parent being mad at me for something, though i don't know what. golly. you're welcome. next time we have an account somewhere in england or russia (which was tuesday), maybe i won't fucking call it. i'll leave it for the other kids who don't fucking work all day.

and yes, i'm fucking pissed off. because i get treated like shit. i work my ass off all day, except for the 15 minutes when i ran to subway for myself, tolin and kyle. whereas, the brother takes a 1 1/2 hour lunch break, reads message boards all day long and gets treated nicely. the parent doesn't yell at him.

you know how people always say the youngest child gets spoiled and shit? that's a fucking lie.

you know what else is pissing me off? this is something grandma h said to me when i was there sometime this summer: "you should learn to bake pies so you can get a boyfriend."

okay, 1st: i already know how to bake pies, thank you very much.

2nd: do girls dig chicks who can make pies?

dear kate: when you're standing there talking about how you can never find a guy, do you ever think that there's a girl sitting in the cubicle next to you, who digs you very much?

music: sleater-kinney