Wow, I'm writing a lot of entries here ... I don't know why so many.I always think I'm done, but I'm not.
Never.
I'm never done rambling.
I love it.
I really do.
Sometimes I ramble on people's answering machines. I go on & on about shit .. pointless babble ... and they have to listen to it all .. oh man. I think I'm in love with the sound of my own voice. That and my writing. Even though my prose is sloppy. Actually, ESPECIALLY because of that. So yeah, I'm like this narcissist of sorts. No, I don't gaze at my reflection in the mirror .. not that kind of narcissist. Am I spelling it right? I hope so. I don't like bad spelling. It pisses me off. I know it's petty .... but it totally affects the way I perceive someone, if I'm talking to them online, and they can't spell worth shit.
Because it means they don't read. People who read can spell just fine. Others ... well they just know what they hear. They can't always spell it. And they'll sometimes use these big words they've heard in an effort to sound intelligent ... but they'll misspell them. *Sigh*.
So anyway, the people coming to tour the house haven't arrived yet. And neither have the cleaning ladies. I'm worried the house people and the cleaning people will show up at the same time. That would suck. It would be hard to tour the house with those cleaning wenches in every room. And they get really annoyed if you're in their way ... like because they wanna clean and get the hell out .. and you're in their way. I hope they're not rude to the prospective buyers ... oh that would so suck, if we lost a sale because of those cleaning ladies. I'm scared now. I want to move.
Oh, incidentally, we're moving to Toronto. My mom and I. From Burlington. AKA Borington. Burlington & Oakville are known as Borington & Jokeville. Ah, suburban humor. No, I did not think of those. They're nicknames suburbanites in this neck of the wood came up with. Har har.
So yeah. I'm excited. We've got this town house in the Beaches that hasn't been built yet. So we get to pick stuff ... like tile colours and all that crap. Not that I'll have much say ... it's my mom buying the house after all .... and who knows how long I'll live there? I'm like 20 ... I'm old. Livin' with mommy. Ah. At least she's cool.
I lived in Toronto when I was younger. North York. For like 3 years. I liked it. Even though North York is so wretched and our house was ugly. I just liked it there. Then when I was 10 we moved here. I never liked it. Never. Right off the bat, I thought it sucked. Everyone here is white middle class. Just like me. Only my family was weirder. And people knew it. Neighbors commented. I dunno what they said exactly. It's all because there's nothing to talk about here, except what the neighbors are up to. So they talked about us.
My dad was a commie.
My mom was some freaky hippie-lady who didn't shave her armpits.
I was a sex-obsessed little girl who would grow up to be a whore.
Those are some of the things I heard.
Not that they were necessarily true ...
But that's what they said.
Meh, what can ya do?
I gotta go. Doorbell.
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