One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."
Ok. Time to change your bookmarks. Hopefully this is the last post on the Tripod-hosted page. I think I've got at least the basic journal stuff moved over to Townie.net.
Friday, August 09, 2002
A friend has begun writing the tenets for his own religion (don't ask). I've requested to become the Patron Saint of Fragile Egos.
Townie , 5:41 AM
Thursday, August 08, 2002
My boss is ready to go into labor at any moment. I'm thrilled for her, but I'm wishing she could hold off until someone else announces their pregnancy. Since I started working there in 1999, there has been a pregnant woman on staff at all times. It's become some sort of strange superstition for me.
Suddenly I'm very wordy here in my journal. It seems the more crazy my life is, the more I have to say. I guess that makes sense, since this is, indeed, a journal of my life. But my posts usually aren't about my feelings. When I'm stressed about my family, I write about camping. When I'm overloaded at work, I write about proper undergarments. When I'm worried about my friends, I post silly pictures of me in flood pants and an orange bow tie. And yet, even though I don't type out the words to express my worries and stresses, I always feel better when I hit "publish".
Townie , 6:02 AM
Tuesday, August 06, 2002
Townie as a Brownie
On my honor, I will try to serve God, my Country, and Mankind, and to live by the Girl Scout Law. Oh, and I will also try to not cringe when I find these old pictures and realize that I was OUT IN PUBLIC in this smashing ensemble.
Townie , 7:16 PM
Things to do today: 1. Call Friend #1 since I haven't talked to her in two weeks and she probably thinks I've dropped off the face of the earth. 2. Call Friend #2 since I haven't talked to her in about a month and a half and she probably thinks I've dropped off the face of the earth. 3. Call Friend #3 since I haven't talked to her yet this week and she probably thinks I've dropped off the face of the earth. 4. Email Friend #4 since she wrote her email address in her Christmas card to me and I still haven't gotten back to her and she probably thinks I've dropped off the face of the earth. 5. Mail my car payment. I'm sure GMAC doesn't care if I've dropped off the face of the earth or not, they just want their money.
A friend from work and I were talking about relieving tension, and I mentioned that keeping a daily journal makes a huge difference in my life. As we talked more about it, and online journaling in general, I realized I was skating around the idea of giving her this address. I told her I would point her in the direction of some great ones that I read everyday, but in the end did not offer mine. It's not as if I write anything terrible about her (or anyone) here. It's not as if I have anything to be embarrassed about. I just feel weird about people I know reading this, but I can't figure out why. Perhaps I'm afraid they'll think I'm cheesey.
Monday again. It's not so much that I don't want to go back to work and face the 15 inch long to do list. It's not even that I want to be home, working on my family tree or working on my tan. I simply have no desire to get dressed in professional clothes. I've spent the past 2 days with my hair pulled back in many little clippys, alternated between my bathing suit and 15 yr old shorts and cool tshirt, and have skipped the makeup. In this heat/humidity, I've tried to avoid anything that might come between a little breeze and my skin. The thought of proper undergarments makes me want to weep.
Townie , 5:57 AM
Sunday, August 04, 2002
Yeehaw! I just treated myself to my own domain. In 24 hours or so I should be proud owner of www.townie.net. It will probably take me 6 months to get everything figured out and moved, but I feel like such an adult!
Townie , 6:37 PM
Dear Neighbor,
Let me give you a little tip. A little piece of information to take under advisement: If a stranger driving a pickup with out of state plates comes to your door and asks you questions about your neighbors, such as "who lives in that house?, where do they work?, do they live alone?", you are under no obligation to provide that information. As a matter of fact, I really hope you refrain from EVER giving out information about my comings and goings to anyone ever again. It's true that we don't know what it is that the man was looking for. Maybe it has nothing to do with me at all. Maybe he's not casing the area for prospective robbery targets. That's not the point. The point is that, thanks to you, I hardly ever sit at work and wonder if I've left the iron on. Now it's "I wonder if someone's trying to break into my house right now." And if I happen to wake up in the middle of the night, you've certainly given me something new to think about. I'm looking into a motion-activated light for the front porch. I'll be installing it as soon as I can figure out how to get the damned thing to shine directly into your bedroom window.
PS. Keep your damned little yappy dog out of my garden, ok?
XOXO, Lisa
Townie , 9:38 AM
Which Weekend Story isn't true?
#1 A prisoner escaped from a prison about an hour away from here, made his way to this particular small town and was captured by police. Got away from police (still wearing handcuffs and no shoes) and played hide and seek all morning until he ran into the road and was hit by a passing motorist. Hit hard enough to break her windshield and be thrown into the air. He then got up and ran (still wearing handcuffs and no shoes, and now with blood streaming down his face) behind a row of houses and hid IN MY GRANDMOTHER'S BUSHES. The police finally flushed him out, tackled him, and made the arrest. My grandmother, bless her soul, missed the entire thing. She was sitting, blissfully ignorant, in the house with all the curtains closed, trying to keep as cool as possible in the heat wave whilst all this commotion went on.
#2 Bob the Cat and I have taken the next step. I brought the poor little stray into my house. He isn't exactly the friendliest pet yet, but I think he's grateful to be out of the heat (he came in the house much easier than I expected him to). Right now he's curled up on my kitchen table chair sleeping.
#3 I went out for a drink last night with a friend. At the bar, there was a woman wearing a dress. T-shirt material, sleeveless and quite short. This woman was quite obviously not wearing a bra. My friend and I found seats, and she was facing a pool table where Braless Woman was now shooting pool. Several minutes later, friend started laughing and said "yep, it was just a matter of time, she's flashing her undies. Wow. You should see this. I've never seen underwear that white. She must bleach them." This led to a conversation about things we would NEVER do in public. In the middle of that conversation, friend interjected, "Oh my God, that wasn't underwear I was seeing!"
Townie , 9:04 AM
Friday, August 02, 2002
Dear Cute Boy,
Let me see if I've got this straight. You are only attracted to women if they aren't attracted to you. Is that correct? You've mentioned the phrase "hard to get" several times in our conversations. You've also referred to a female friend who obviously digs you quite a bit as "too easy." The women you've mentioned as attractive are either married or totally not interested in the likes of you. What is up with that? Quite frankly, you scare me. I shudder to think that many others of the male persuasion could actually think the same way you do. I mean, geeze, I'm not quick enough to think "ooo, there's that cute Bob from Marketing..have to remember to be cool and aloof so he doesn't think I'm attracted to him, even though I AM attracted to him...and he just smiled at me. Does that mean that he's attracted to me or that he's not attracted to me? Or maybe it wasn't a smile at all, maybe it was a gas pain, but if he's comfortable enough to grimace in front of me, surely that means he is attracted to me...blah blah blah." It's too much, I tell you. You damn men.
By the way, we spilled pizza sauce in your cooler. Sorry dude.
