Tuesday, July 19, 2005
oh the joys of the job-hunt.

      Hey ya'll. And so the job hunt continues for Tasha. I mean, ok, well I'm not trying extremely hard. I'm just waiting to get the end of the course out the way before I start power-housing hahaha. No, but I was lookin' through the classifieds today, and I found one looking for mystery shoppers! How cool would that be!? You make $24 an hour and you get free food and merchandise. I mean, how much better does it get. Anywho, so I'm sending away for a brochure and application for Janelle and I. I would have so much fun doing that. I'd probably have to have another job... how much shopping can you actually do!? But, hey it's good money, for something that doesn't sound too hard.

      The other ad I saw was for a housekeeper or banquet server at TIGH-NA-MARA! Oh yeah baby, that's right. I could be working at the best hotel on the island! It's just outta parksville, and with my driving, that'd take me like twelve minutes or so to get there hahaha. Oh man, mom just called me. She was just in Shoppers, talking to Rob, and he said "oh, Tasha's coming back, eh?" and she said not that she knew of, and Rob said that he had been talking to Roger that morning, and Roger said that I was coming back into photo. What the hell? WHAT THE HELL!? People can't make up thier friggin minds if I'm coming or going. This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. I frickin hope that place burns to the ground overnight hahahhaa! Anyways, unfortunately, I do need the job, so I'll just go get it, (if it's still there by the end of the night) and still attempt to get a different job. Mwahahaha, oh the evilness.
music. niki fm - hawthorne heights





Sunday, July 17, 2005
come on motherfucker, get laid, get fucked.

      I have come to the conclusion that most guys only want girls so they can get fucked, laid, mess around. It frightens me to think that this may be the answer to three years of turmoil. It frightens me to think that perhaps I am just accepting this and going with it. Could I really have been so naive as to think that so and so must still love me, he wants to fool around after not speaking to me for however long. A day. A week. A month. A year. Maybe I've become the same way. Maybe I have become a completely different person. One who is looking for the next thrill. But I doubt it. I don't think I'm the user. I suppose he would have stopped talking to me by now, if that's all it was. This is so fucking messed up. I don't even know you.

      In other news. Apparently since I never say anything good about Phil... we hung out yesterday and had a good time. Happy? Yeah ok, but then we went to the river with Janelle, Alex, Chelsea, and Drew, and Phil decided to dangle my bag over the water... then he tripped and dropped my camera in. Now my brand new, five hundred dollar camera doesn't work. At all. And my warrenty doesn't cover water damage, which this obviously is. So. Fuck. Phil doesn't have a job, doesn't have money. So great. Fuck FUCK FUCK. My savings was down to ten bucks. I have a $3500 dollar lone, a $350 dollar credit card bill for my phone, and a $200 dollar bill for long distance while was I was in Van. AND NOW I DON'T HAVE MY FUCKING CAMERA.

      Why the hell do I continue to hang out with people I just... hate so often. Forgiveness is a curse sometimes. I swear. I am so pissed off at myself, who the hell have I been recently? Someone I don't recognize, someone a bit frightening. What speaks louder, your inner self to yourself, or the persona you project to other people? How the hell did I get this most recent label? Slut. This is what I wanted, isn't it? Get out, get living? Anyhow, pay no attention to this post. Burn your bridges.

come on motherfucker, get laid, get fucked.
music. only ashes - something corporate