Spinning around and around

Filed under: Daily Life on November 13, 2008 — 469 words

Listening to: David Archuleta-Desperate

I have this itch to write a memoir about my life. Is that possible at my age? At 23, I can say that I have had plenty of life experiences but, I don’t know. I feel like Dan Humphrey on Gossip Girl, someone who’s afraid to write about the truth. I already have part of it mapped out in my head:
-my boss and co-workers will get funny psuedonymns like Girl With Ginormous Breasts, Finger Nails and Girl Who Looks Like Sam From America’s Next Top Model.
-I can bitch and complain all I want
-I can be honest

This shit at work is killing me. Finger Nails approached me the other day and say, “So I heard you’re leaving us” and gives me that STARE. I lied and pretended like I didn’t know what she was talking about. Now she thinks that her and I are like BFF now and I’m left feeling confused. I don’t want to bond with her. Bonding makes things complicated and it makes me just another victim in her little web of insults. The next time she tries to play a “joke” on me, I won’t feel the urge to bite my tongue. Two of my close friends have already quit and walked out on her, and she’s left to tell us that they didn’t leave because of her, they left because they didn’t “get it.” Get what, I don’t fucking know, but apparently we’re all supposed to pretend to believe her and magically forget how she treated them the day they left.

Moving on, my little memoir can also capture my daily life right now. My cat Pepper and my dog Riley will be glorified as the most kick ass pets ever, and I’ll come up with cute slogans like from I Can Haz Cheeseburger. I can write about my crazy English teacher who looks like Santa Claus and curses like a sailor. But I have learned alot from him as a teacher and he makes going to class that much more worth going.

And then when it comes to my personal life, I’ll talk about how I still call my brother “brotha” and he calls me “sissy.” I still act like I’m 12 sometimes and that’s okay. I call my mother “dillo” and no one even knows what the means.

I still love to write but I just haven’t found the inspiration. I figure, I can sit here my whole life and recall certain things that have happened to me or I can document them in detail. Not to share it with the world entirely because let’s face it, getting published is rather difficult. But it can be an accomplishment for me, BY me. And that, to me, will be totally worth it.

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