READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

March 15, 1996: dwelling

today brought a whole new meaning to the word, "dwell."

i never knew that there were so many things to dwell about.

and now i am starting to seriously believe that i am insane.

what did i do today? who can remember?

here's a good observation i was pointed out today:

when you decide you are not likely to be the best, somehow being the worst is the second most desireable. neither tend to be reality.

today was a bit challenging. not only did i spend some time beating myself up, but also, other people were a bit mad at me for blaspheming organic yesterday.

but what can i do? it was what happened to me. i even edited out the names of the companies that the loud-mouthed individuals whom i did not know (and who obviously did not know me) really said and substituted those for company names that were actually in the public domain.

i felt compelled to tell the story. i was baffled by the unprofessionalism and the raw exposed naivite of the people whom i did not know. the option, to keep my big mouth closed, was too unattractive, and, when it comes to me, was perhaps even impossible.

i hope all of my fabulous friends there realize that i meant nothing personal by my recollection of events as they unravelled before me.

here is a word i learned today: "pinner": a person who takes the last hit of pot and leaves nothing.... which can be generalized to include anyone who is self-serving at the expense of others.

with that said, tnd was cool. carrie showed up ... great to see her. and i talked to stacy and a bunch of other folks i like.

but of course, primarily since a couple people came up to me during the party and told me that they read my home page, i felt the need to go home and hide out alone afterward, protected by the glow of my new large monitor and the purple text that appeared on the screen in front of me.

the bitter irony, of course, as i learned today, however, is that the purple text does very little to protect me.





or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge

Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg