Daisy Mae Trevilyan's Journal

Time:

3:45 pm.

I should preface this post with: Persian ~~carpets...wait this is Spent~~ rugs are pretty boss. They're really beautiful, but I've always been of the opinion that the only people that really get them are rich bastards that have more money than they know what to do with. "College fund for the kid? Nah, we had that all squared away the day we fertilized that egg." You know?

It was always been a question of 'who spends $1500 on a rug?'... and the answer is apparently 'my parents.'
TJ and I came home last week to find a giant package in the front room with a note saying "Happy Housewarming; Love, Mom and Dad". I think I almost choked when I saw what it was. Don't get me wrong. I love it. It's a nice gesture, and I have the best parents ever (barring all the freaky behavior). They just want us to have nice things, but damn.

In related news: Fashion week has overstayed its welcome. We aren't speaking anymore.

Comments: Read 13 or Add Your Own.

Time:

5:00 pm.

So TJ and I went shopping with Sam ~~...um... last week, I think?~~ a while ago, and it reminded me how creepy people can be with pregnant girls. I mean, there was the old guy that Sam mentioned who was under the mistaken impression that we gave a shit what he thought, but that's kind of normal, I think. The second you get pregnant it doesn't matter if someone's a complete stranger or not, their opinion suddenly should matter a lot. That's not creepy, though, just annoying.

What's creepy is complete strangers' urge to touch the belly. Now, I get it, I do. There's something beautiful and fascinating about pregnancy and just about everyone who isn't kind of dead inside gets a little warm fuzzy feeling, even if they don't want to admit it. That makes sense, but just because you want to touch doesn't mean you should! On what planet is it okay to just go up to somebody you don't know and start touching on their parts? It's going to get you punched in the teeth. The only people who are exempt from this are cute old ladies. Cute old ladies have earned the right to touch whomever's stomachs they damn well please and sometimes really cute, grandfatherly old men but that's pretty rare. Usually old men touching on you is a big freak alert. Nobody else has the right except your mama. If you're a friend you can ask but don't go in there with your hands flying and not expect to get drop kicked.

You're not just being offensive but pregnant girls can do anything they want and blame it on hormones so you're pretty much screwed.

Anyway, I've got to find a pair of bunny slippers for the PJ party pronto. I don't know what happened to the ones I used to have, but I can't find them. I think Spatula might have decided they were real rabbits and reduced them to a pile of scrap material...which I found in the corner of my place when I went back to look for them. Or my brother stole them, which I kind of hope is the case because it would be hilarious.

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Time:

3:55 pm.

I don't know if anyone else has this problem, but lately I've been having brand censorship in my dreams. I can't think of anything specific because I'm not very good at remembering details in my dreams but think "Wal*Mart" turning into "Big*W" or something. I don't believe in all of that dream reading BS, but there has to be a reason for that happening, right? It's not something that's happened my whole life.

I also noticed that dreams are huge teases. They start out with this awesome plot and you're working so hard to get to your goal, but everybody's ADD in their dreams and you start all these useless subplots. Then when you're done with all the useless garbage hoops you have to jump through to get to your end goal, you're so close you can TASTE it... and you wake up. Every time! I'm surprised I don't wake up pissed every morning. ~~Actually, I sort of used to...~~ It's just dissatisfying and unfair.

And to wrap up: What does "product return pending" mean? I sent my iPod in for repairs and I'm not going to survive much longer without it. Usually it only takes a couple days with my applecare, but first they had to order a part. That's cool, that makes sense, but now it's said "product return pending" for three days. Does that mean they shipped it and FedEx can't understand "express shipping" or does it mean they just haven't sent it yet? If so why haven't they sent it? A girl can't live without her music for more than a week. I thought everybody knew that. They've never taken this long before so I'm a little worried.

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Subject:	(please pretend this was posted earlier today. WTF it didn't post when I told it to earlier >:C )
Time:	1:01 pm.

I can't stop watching those cheesy, teen-aimed dance flicks this week. I can't really stop. It's like watching a car wreck, I can't look away. I'm calling it research, though, because I can.

Anyway, I've noticed something while I'm watching these, a phenomenon that happens in almost every single one that I can't wrap my head around. Dance-offs. Can I see a show of hands? How many of you have actually ever seen a dance-off where all parties were totally sober and serious about what they were doing? One where they weren't laughed off the dance floor because of their ~~faggotry~~ dumbassery.
I'm going to take a wild guess and say there aren't going to be very many hands. That's because dance-offs are lame and don't happen in real life unless you're drunk or there's some sort of super special circumstance.
People eat it up when they're watching but I'm going to have to agree with Hutch on this one.

Then there are the scenes where the main couple is dancing and the whole dance floor clears so the entire room can be unanimously awed by their dancing prowess. A little more likely than the dance-off, but still.

So, anyway, other than watching lame movies I've been working, spending the fourth of July weekend on a yacht which rocked, and getting TJ moved to Santa Street with the cunning use of homeless people. Speaking of which: Don't forget TJ's housewarming party tonight! My mom and his mom both are going to be cooking for it so knowing them that means there's going to be enough food to solve the hunger problem in Ethiopia. Not just any food either, freaking amazing food, and if we don't have help eating it we're going to be forced to eat it all ourselves over the course of next week which would make us pretty much useless until we ran out. I might make glow-in-the-dark ~~virgin~~ drinks too because they're cool and I've been wanting to try.

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Time:

8:38 pm.

I kind of like hole-in-the-wall bars. I know everybody here in New York seems all stuck on their shiny, fancy clubs, but little hole-in-the-wall bars are personable!

I'm not talking the really scary grunge and grease pot bars that haven't seen a health inspector for five years and you need to bring your own glass. Those are pretty nasty, but is it so much to ask for a happy medium?

I was going to do something in my column about dive bars in New York so I went looking for some and couldn't find any REAL dive bars. Even the ones that said they were dive bars weren't. They were just the shiny, fancy club... but not shiny and fancy. Dingy and full of middle aged perverts who are pretty sure they can dance. Now that I think about it, that's probably part of what drove out the crowd that showers, because they really REALLY can't. I'm all for shaking it even if dancing's not really your thing ~~I arms-in-the-air dance in the shower every morning, in fact~~, but damn!

Anyway, it's like New York doesn't even know what a good dive bar is! Anybody here have any suggestions or should I scrap the idea?

Enough about work! TJ's moving to Santa Street! We decided that means Santa obviously visits there first every Christmas. You can guess where Daisy Trevilyan's going to be on Christmas Eve. The floors could be better, but who cares about napability when you're on SANTA Street? Okay, so napability is still really important, but everything comes second to Santa Street.

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Time:

10:43 pm.

Bugs are rude. You can just be chillin' minding your own business and bugs will seriously just get up in your face like they own the joint. It would be sort of different if you'd camped out on their house, nest, den, dwelling. They'd have all the right to be up in your ~~shit~~ business then, but when you're just hanging out in your sleeping bag them being touchy feely isn't okay. It's always the really nasty ones too. The ones with pinchers and hundreds of legs. Or moths. They're not dangerous or anything, but they're definitely overly friendly. Not that I got a centipede in my sleeping bag last week or anything. ~~And I definitely didn't scream and run and make TJ kill it for me. Glad nobody was around for that crap.~~

Okay, okay, so other than the centipede getting in my sleeping bag~~, not being able to FUCKING GET AWAY FROM NATHAN~~ and the screwed up women's bathroom the retreat wasn't so bad. It was actually kind of great so Rosalyn was right and I was wrong. And that other guy whose name I don't know that commented was also right.

I sort of miss Herbie. I hope the media isn't getting him down. He just has a lot of love to go around!

~~P.S most of you can still suck it. Jerks. ♥~~

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Time:

2:47 am.

( [Private;] )

Wouldn't it figure that when there's a giant, raging fire in California and they could use rain more than ever the rest of the country is fricking drenched. It's even snowing in some places and California isn't seeing a drop. That's grinding salt in the wound, and I would know since it's my job to do it. Then there's the post script with the swine flu. What would that be? Acid in the salted wound? Crappy spring, USA. Let's step ~~this shit~~ it up.

So what's with this retreat? Whose logic is this? So most of these people can't stand each other? Let's throw them all together in the middle of nowhere with ~no escape~ and see what happens. ~~I bet there are going to be big brother cameras and Lewis and his bitches will watch 24 hours a day hoping to catch people offing each other. SHIT that's probably giving people ideas~~ It all reeks of reality TV if you ask me. A++ Spent.

~~P.S. Spent. I'm sick of your shit. Choke and die! ....... Ugh, I wish.~~

Comments: Read 25 or Add Your Own.

Time:

9:33 am.

Happy birthday to TJ! I was going to post it in big, sparkly letters, but he's old and I didn't want him to have a stroke or something. That would suck because I really hate traveling by myself.

I'm not going to talk about Jesus crying because I'm not the creepy one, and people rubbing in vacations are lame. We do get to go to one of the 15 most unfortunately named towns in the world tomorrow, though! My aunt lives in Penistone. So even though it's raining we get to go laugh a lot and piss off some locals.

I got yelled at by the mayor once when I was younger. She overheard my brother and me laughing about it and came strutting up saying "It's pronounced 'PENNIS-TUN'". Yeah, okay. That makes it better.

Why am I posting when I'm on vacation anyway? Because I don't think being on vacation excludes us from that "post on this thing or you're fired" ~~bullshit~~ rule.

Comments: Read 18 or Add Your Own.

Time:

12:12 pm.

I never thought about what a huge pain in the ass it would be to type with a sprained wrist until I had to do it. It's just fine until you move it wrong, actually. You just have to make sure you don't turn it funny and you're in the clear, the problem is that typing's such a muscle memory activity that you don't really think about it a lot. You'll be typing along, getting super involved in what you're writing then suddenly you're reminded by the pain of what for a second feels like your hand getting ripped off shooting up your arm that, by the way you have a sprained wrist. ~~It probably would help if I'd stop aggravating the thing. AUGH! I blame TJ! For being attractive or something. Nobody needs to read this.~~

When I sprained mine last weekend I thought that oh, it'd be okay because I'd been having some epic writer's block since last month. No big deal right? Wrong!
Two days later what hit me but a stroke of literary genius. (Or a burst of creativity, but that doesn't have the same ring to it.)

Now, I know I'm not the first person to say this and I won't be the last, but where is this Murphy ~~asshole~~ guy and where can I find him? Somebody needs to give that jerk a swift kick in the bits, and don't say that's too harsh. How many people has Murphy screwed over? He definitely deserves it.

And if any of you care to know it was TJ that sprained my wrist and definitely not a bowling ball. How? He keeps the pimp hand strong, just sayin'. LOL he'd freaking kill me... or cry, which would be worse. Striiiike.

Whatev, it'll be better by the time I go to Italy where I won't really have to type, and that's all that matters.

Happy St. Pat's, Spent.

Edit: P.S. The cupcake? Best St. Paddy's day delivery. Ever. Thanks Ros.

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Time:

12:49 am.

( [private;] )

Potholes are a pain in the ass. Not just for drivers. I'm not talking about that. When you're in a car they're annoying and sure they can mangle the crap out of your alignment if you're driving through the city like it's the Indy 500, but it's pedestrians that have the most to worry about.

You're just walking along you see a pothole filled with water and think 'Ah, what the hell? My boots can handle a bit of water. It's just a puddle.' not knowing you're headed toward an extension of the freaking Atlantic. How were you supposed to know? It's sitting in the middle of the street, right? It's not supposed to be five hundred feet deep!

Then you're stuck walking around with soggy socks just because you didn't know there's a body of water the size of effing Lake Michigan lurking in the middle of NYC.

It's not even fair either! Wearing boots is supposed to mean your prepared. Boots are supposed to help, but when there's water pouring in the top your boot's useless. It's like a death trap! A death trap of cold, nasty, NYC diaper water. The puddles here probably carry disease and you're unsuspecting foot can't escape because it's stuck in a death trap boot.

So, anyway. Good day today. Sup, Spent?

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Time:

2:02 am.

( [Private;] )

Survey time!
I know you're all disappointed that I'm not going to share my awesome opinions with you in this post like I usually do, but I'm curious this time around.

I've been here a couple of months, and have all my early impressions of the place established. So I got to wondering how everybody else's opinions have changed about Spent.
I mean, a girl's got to know what's in store for her, right?

So my question is: What were your very first impressions of working at Spent and what are they now/how have they changed? You can throw in how long you've worked here if you want, too. I'm all ears.

If you feel like you have ~questionable~ answers, and want to be ~~a huge wussy~~ cautious you can lock your comments to me, or whatever. I'm not going to nark you out. Promise.

Comments: Read 32 or Add Your Own.