.: The Girl :.
Name:Jessie
From::Los Angeles, California
I'm a twenty-something California native; a wanderer but not without direction.
Learn a little more about me
.: Recent Posts :.
Far, Far Away
28
"It's In The Mail"
What's Wrong With This Picture?
My Crappy Day
Experiment
Gainfully (Un) Employed
The Very Last Woman On The Planet To Be Betrothed
Lady Luck
Harvard Graduation
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.: Other Fun Reads :.
Dooce
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.: Sites I Frequent :.
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.: Disclaimer :.
By visiting this site, you read at your own risk. I am known for errors in grammar and spelling. If you become less intelligent by reading this site, become incredibly bored, or are disgusted by what you read - you were warned. Furthermore, I will not be held responsible for ANY mental, emotional, physical, financial, or spiritual damage to you, your friends, your family or strangers. I apologize to my friends and family if I embarrass you. I reserve the right to edit any and all comments on this blog. I also reserve the right to humiliate you if you dare say anything negative about me, my friends, my family, or strangers who I like.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It's OfficialIt's official: I AM EMPLOYED. I begin work on Monday. (I would tell you my cool new BIG and IMPORTANT title, and where I will be decorating a pretty new office, but then you might show up... and God knows, I do not want visitors. Especially YOU.)
It's official: I AM A FAT PIECE OF LARD. I caught my reflection in a window today and my thought process went something like this: "Wow, who's that pretty chick? Oh, wait, that's me. Hey, I'm a pretty good-lookin' chick. OH MY GOD, where did that stomach and those hips come from? I'm HUGE. And now that I'm looking at myself, I may as well take a good look over... Hair=Good, Shoulders=Good, Boobs=Good, Legs=Good, Arms=Need a bit of work, Stomach=Holy SHIT, Waist=Shit, Hips=Double Shit, Butt=OH FUCK..." And then I just stopped looking. I was only going to depress myself if I looked any longer. It could have been the bright yellow sweater I was wearing, but I think the clothing excuse has just about run its course. Time to find a treadmill.
