Plague of the $23

Hello all,

I can only hope that now is the winter of my discontent. Explaination: I can not make more than $23 at a lunch shift at Ruby Tuesday. Seriously, I could go up to a table with a plate full of steaming poo and at the end of the day I would make $23. I could go to my tables and arrange free blow jobs by the best in the porn industry for free and I would still walk out of there with only $23.

I have done neither of those 2 things but a good amount of things in between and still $23. Everyone else is like, "Ooh I made $31", "Yay, I made $40", those statements are often followed by wants and needs for pot and alcohol before they come back for their dinner shift. These people suck, and CHRIST ON A STICK I CAN ONLY MAKE $23! Why, why why why why why?!?!?

I believe Oprah is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, but millions follow her like sheep. Her and her "Secret". Fine! Fine, Secret believers! If it works, if it's real, here it freakin' is! I want to be successful in the career that I had set out for myself! I want my estranged boyfriend to want me so much it's obscene! I want to be happy! Really happy, not that fake, I believe in me and I love me for who I am crap! I'm talkin' luck, opportunity and money, fame AND fortune! If I get any more crap in my life, I'm gonna stab a bitch! I saw that Oprah about the Secret and how it works. Surprisingly, this is not the way. Shocker, I know. For the women who stood up in the audience and said, "I do meditate every day and I really do want it. It's all I want. Why is this not happening for me?", I felt so sorry for her because the Secret teachers said to her, and Oprah agreed, that if she really wanted it then it would happen and if it wasn't happening after she had gone throuh all of the appropriate steps then it wasn't really what she wanted. WHAT THE FUCK? You bitches.

Not everyone has the ability, such as Oprah to, sit in a room and think, "Gee, Black God, how can I be happy? How can my 2 billion dollars and adoring fans make me happy? Oh! I know I have to love me too...........OK! Wow, I do love me. That's better. Wow, this must work."

I am sitting in a Starbucks durring the break in my double shift. My boyfriend's mom, who has been very generous to me, gave me her personal computer for me to use to get my life going. It has a Simpson's skin on it. I like the Simpson's, not love, but I watch it when it's on and thought that it was an eclectic look and decided not to take it off, and didn't know how to without hurting the exterior. All of my friends and family have looked at it and said the same thing, "Yeah, uh, well, that's neat, huh?" Some man just stopped me, actually made me stop typing and take off my head phones to tell me that he thought my computer was cool. I am still on the fence on whether I will find his car while he is in the bathroom and jab one his car's tires or just accept it because my compliments are few and far between these days.

On the way to work this morning there were older men in hats and vests on every overpass in both directions. They had flags with them. Flags on stands, flags in their hands, even flags with crosses on the top. Because where would God rather be present if not over the American flag? They were standing over the interstate, yelling and waving, legs hanging over and everything. All to get people's attention to inform them to remember September 11th. I don't know about you, but nothing would really bring more attention to September 11th than a bunch of redneck Jusus-freaks fallin' off overpasses, killing confussed motorists down below.