Friday, September 23, 2005

Jigga wha?

so... there's two different routes I can take to get to work, one involves going down a fairly crowded street (by Savannah standards, anyhow) and then taking the freeway (or is it a highway?) and the second route involves taking a side street, a couple blocks from my street, over the ghetto and through some woods.

Unless I need gas or 64 ounces of some caffeinated beverage, I don't take the freeway/highway route, the ghetto route is just easier, but I'm aware that everyone sitting on their front porches, behind the six foot chain link fence is staring at me and I have this awful, unconscious habit of locking my doors when I'm in that area - what can I say, it's a rough part of town - this morning, I'm singing along to Jay-Z* as loudly and as angrily as a white girl from Orange County can as I surreptitously reach over to lock the door, I realize that I've become that guy from "Office Space"... maybe I should just give up and take the freaking freeway to work...

wow, what a boring story? What happened to the old days when I used to talk about my boobs and my underwear? okay, since we're (not really) on the subject - yesterday, halfway through the day, I glanced down at my underwear and realized that I couldn't remember putting on those specific chonies... have you ever had a "where-the-hell-did-these-panties-come-from?" day? Not that I didn't recognize the underwear, they were definitely mine, it's just that it's a pair that I rarely wear, lately, I've been more partial to my Victoria's Secret Pink collection or commando and this was some weird little pair from Target... not that I have a chart keeping track of my panties** &***, it was just weird that I had an underwear blackout...


*technically, it was the Jay-Z/Lincoln Park cd, but just Jay-Z makes for a better story, no?

** I HATE the word "panties"

*** a million years ago when I worked at this place that sold wheel and tire accessories, my job was sales and I'm not good at sales, so I just flirted with customers (since the clientele**** was about 99% male) and there was one customer who used to call every day to ask what color underwear I was wearing... and the owner of the company encouraged this behavior - neat

**** does that make it sound like I worked in a massage parlor or what?