2004-09-01

if you were a baby, I'd shake you

a dear friend, "woof-woof," and her torrid lesbian drama of a breakup inspired the title of this entry. after I typed it, I confessed it should be a song lyric. she told me to write a song, but, as I'm not musically inclined, I'm jotting it down here instead. I'm so...

...fifteen or so minutes later and I'm no longer inspired. inspiration and creativity were going to be the sentiment of today's thought. I had spent the morning looking at the new Readymade magazine, which lead me to their website, on which I explored their forums. Such crafty people out there, making, writing, thinking, doing. I loved witnessing it and I felt like I could be a part of it too. I'd wax on about my new Gocco, about the possibility of taking my first writing class, about my sense that all is well in the world.

any illusion of joy has now left my body, and instead of shaking a waffling Sapphic friend, I want to rattle the skulls of one of our vendors. (they will not get a link here.) on both of the projects I handed them, they've found ways to botch the job, show a complete inattention to detail, and get defensive about errors that they can't replicate and troubleshoot. granted, we're a pissy client, but goodness gracious, believe the screenshots I send and show a little respect if you have any hope of "creating a lasting working relationship."

they ain't gettin' no more of my business.

earlier - later