A Desperate Cry For Help...

[roxy]

Or maybe I'm just a natural born loon....

Do you think this lack of ability to control the urge to snivel is a part of old age? I read stuff that makes me want to burst into tears. I'm not naming names--you know who you are.

Gosh. When I were a wee Roxy, I was a cast-iron bitch. You know, the one that would listen to someone tell a sad story and then blow smoke in their eye and tell them to get the fuck out the way--they were spoiling the view.
Could it be the not smoking thing anymore? Or am I really that much of a sopping wet shmoodle now?

Ah well. If I could examine myself and understand what was going on in my mind--I'd do it for other people and demand money.

In other news, my painful crush on an underage co-worker continues unabated. I love being an old woman sometime. Crushes also makes the day go quicker. And gossip, my goodness.Though I'm always the last to know anything. It's fascinating to find out who's gay on the job--all girls so far, really cute little things too. And affairs! My lord, affairs! For some reason, in my mind, any guy that cheats on his SO becomes a pussy automatically. And pussies are fair game for embarrassing. Loudly. With extra added snorfling. Sometimes though, I wish I had that internal censor, y'know? Unless my Rachel is standing next to me (she' my roxy-shutter-upper) I tend to say...things...that shouldn't be said. LOUD. *shakes head* And the 70's weren't even that good to me.

And I'm babbling instead of writing that Clark & Lex scene. Tsk.

Comments

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Retail is not fun--unless you do it like I do it. And I only embarrass people who've given up all claim to respect. I'm very down on the cheating, it's one of those things that just...grrrrr!!

[ex-lexsbabym701.livejournal.com]

I used to assistant manage at a shoe store and I loved it. I was really young and goofy at the time (not so young now, but still pretty goofy). When the store was empty, I would throw shoes, purses, belts, etc. over the shelving and onto the heads of my workmates. Fun! And, of course, we had to blast our music.

I wouldn't worry about the crying over fic. I do it from time to time. Our feelings make us human. I would be afraid if I read something that was obviously meant to make me feel and I felt nothing at all. Either something would be wrong with me or seriously wrong with the fic.

Don't worry. Even us badass bitches cry.