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CoffeeRevolutionary
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Name: Ariel Gender: Female
Interests: I like drawing, writing, coffee, music (original, right?), the French language, psychology and sociology, warm slippers, and people watching (in an only slightly creepy way) Expertise: Writing on birthday cakes, nail polish, and of course, coffee Occupation: Deerfield Bakery Employee Industry: Bakery?
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/24/2006
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| Kind of like the feeling at an old folk's home... No kidding, son. "You're a mean, mean, mean, SO mean BITCH" - a real voicemail testimonial And this is xanga for you. Baby, you've come a long way.
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| Resisted the urge to send a text to the ex saying "happy father's day, asshole" Pretending to be pregnant would work better if I wasn't such an alcoholic. Two fucking fuckless months. Fuck the celibate life. My point is proven, I am ready to get back in the game. My job is time consuming. My head hurts. I like jello jigglers and I have a bikini tan. | | |
| As my dear departed friend Lotus Weinstock used to say: "I used to wanna change the world. Now I just wanna leave the room with a little dignity."
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| I felt pretty good for four days, and then today I felt like crap again. The four day break was nice though. I just now stole some of my mommy's Lorezapam or whatever so I could feel better. Self medicating is fun. Tempted to call the ex-thing and yell, or send passive aggressive text messages saying I'm gonna kill myself. Won't do either. I start work on the 8th, but I got training before then. Good. I am trying to read Beckett, but having trouble paying attention. My brain is a joke. Your face is a joke. Nyeah.
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| I think I need help. Cause I am evidentially incredibly domestically challenged. I fucked up making instant oatmeal. Add water. Microwave. Stir. I'm fairly sure that requires talent. I got the actual oatmeal part done okay, but I thought I'd be cute and add some cinnamon and brown sugar. Because I'm Betty fucking Crocker. Except the cap of the cinnamon - you know, the one with the little holes- was not on. Which I realized after there was a small, spicy mountain on top of my oatmeal. I hope cinnamon isn't expensive. I tried to eat it anyways. I am a Jew, after all. It tasted like death. Also, I wonder if you can overdose on cinnamon? Cause I had hoped my death would be slightly more ridiculous. Gotta google that shit. In other news, I decided that it is acceptable to drink alone if you are listening to the blues. So yeah, I'm not an alcoholic, I'm just a cultured individual who enjoys B.B. King and shitty vodka. Drinking while listening to Cat Power probably makes you an alcoholic. Cats are like in lots of bands. Like Cat Empire. And Cat Stevens. And Josie and the Pussycats...and CATZ the terrifying broadway thing. Which isn't really a band. Whatever. I like Cat Stevens anyhow.
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