12 October, 2003
in the cafe the other day the chef started yelling at me. "What are you looking at?"
"Why are you always laughing at me?"
"What's so funny?"
Every time I'd laugh more or put on a pretend poker face and go back to my coffee... company.. paper.
This is an ongoing senario it seems.
Yesterday the chef informed me that I was not to eat toast. He did this by putting his head in his arms on the table next to me where he was sitting and moaning.
The coffee making guy came and sat with me. Each waitress did too saying goodmorning and enquiring to my well being.
I think I'm their mascot. I think I'll get a mascot song and a ribbon to wear soon with the cafe's colours or something.
Today is Livid and I wish I was going.
There is something wrong with a woman's priorities when she would willingly submit herself to hours of jumping around feeling ugly and probably being cold just to get backstage to say hello to a boy in a band that she met the other night. When she could have just done the NORMAL stalker thing and gone to his gig at The Duke last night.
But that would have been too obvious.
But tis all a distraction really. Isn't life?
So if you're feeling unimportant just consider this- you probably are just the distraction- or you could be a lucky one and be the cause of someone seeking distraction.
I rarely consider myself in any way other than the protagonist. I'm the center of the fucking story alright??
Whenever I get my Shame About Ray bit part in your life I freak out and fuck it up.
All in all...
I have a little orange ribbon attatched to my jeans today. I was almost disheartened about wearing it because I had to hear the Prime Minister warbling on about death and whatnot in such a sachrine revolting manner.
Happy B'day S.H and D.M and hope that anyone connected to the Bali Bombings doesn't feel too sad today and gets some good out of it.. xxx