So, I guess they found the bodies. Can you imagine being the guy who found Jr.'s body still strapped in? That'd be fucked up. And every time I've said that, a girl (first Theryn then Lindsay) has said "Yeah, well they do that for a living so it probably didn't bother them that much. They've probably seen worse." Okay, yeah, but that's not the point. It would still be fucked up.
We're getting a new "Contracts Specialist" in my office. They're going to put him in the same area that Carol (the secretary who's official title is "Contracts Assistant") and I sit. The thing is, we're pretty cramped as it is. I'm not seeing how they're going to do this, but I do know that it means that I'm going to have a hella small space to work once the guy gets set up. And they were talking like they were going to give him my computer. He can't have my computer! I've got stuff on here that's mine. Everything is set up the way I like it. But they also said he wanted a laptop. So maybe he'll get a new laptop and I'll get to keep my computer. I hope so because if I have to give it up, I won't be happy. Then again, what can I do? I'm just a student.
I am so bad about replying to email. If the guy who sent me an email asking if the animation on my main page is true is reading this, yes, it's true. I'm half Mexican and like you, my father is full blooded Mexican and my mother is "American". And my father has proven himself to be rather worthless as a father. I can see that what he's done to me and my sister and all of his other children is bad. I can see that, but I can't hate him for it. I can't hate my father. I remember sitting at the front window waiting for him to show up. He was always, always late. I have many, many reasons why I could hate him. It's just not in my nature, or something. I don't hate him. I love him and I cherish each moment I get to spend with him. I enjoy being around him. My mother says our sense of humor is the same, so that could easily be the reason. And I can talk to him about stuff and use language that I can't with my mother. Now, my mother is a saint. I have so much respect for her and what she did. She raised two children pretty much all alone, and I think she did a pretty damn good job. My sister and I may not have had any money, but we knew we were loved and cared for. Anyway, for some reason I can't hate my father like my sister does. He's done some wrong things, but most of them don't involve me or have any impact whatsoever on my life, and therefore I don't really care. I know the things are wrong, but I still love my father. Okay, I'll get off of that, since most of you don't have any idea what I'm talking about and the rest are just confused because I'm rambling.
Anyway, I'm really bad about sending reply emails. Especially if the reply is going to be long. I always mean to write people back, I have the best intentions of sending them long and drawn out replies detailing everything that's going on in my life, but I just don't ever do it. I guess I could just tell them to go to my homepage, since I always update that.
Rodney's a "bumpy" person. Ha ha!
Went and played some basketball last night with Rodney. He doesn't beat me very often, but he did last night. Then I was up 18-12 when the lights went out. That's so lame that the lights go out at curfew. Eleven on the week days, and like twelve or one on the weekend. It's a lighted outside basketball court on the east side near a fire station. I guess it makes sense, since it is a city thing, that they wouldn't want people under age to be there past curfew. But that fucking sucks for those of us who are over 18, and like to play outside when it's cooler and there's nobody around!
I'm hungry. And I'm tired. And I'm bitching.
Only ten more days!
"His name is Argen?"
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