High Highs, Low Lows.

I am in a mood.

Because I am a mood, I am cleaning in a manic way and have begun the process of tearing my bedroom apart. There are more piles of clothes than usual all over the place. I also yanked all my handbags out and rooted through all of them in an attempt to locate missing jewelry, makeup, and other important items. Also I was performing a change harvest because I am determined to empty my orange piggy bank at the Commerce in order to use the funds to buy another pair of boots. Yes, that's right, in order to add to the clutter. Yuck.

Here is a short list of what I've unearthed:

• Ten dollars. Yeeeeah! Dogeared for a despicably fattening lunch mind you.
  
• Orange & vanilla lip gloss bought at Oasis Day Spa at the Jet Blue Terminal in JFK in December 2004. Have been whining about this for quite some time and am delighted.
  
• An ancient pack of Lucky Strikes. J-J-J-jackpot! My last pack of cigarettes seem to have disappeared and I was greatly chagrined as I had 3 bucks in my wallet from Sunday on. And yes, that does feel grand, thanks for wondering.
  
• A pack of matches from Idlewild which is no longer open but used to have a great Britpop night that I liked to think I was cool enough to go to. Although I was clearly wrong, I still miss it.
  
• My Clie PDA. So THAT'S why I'm always late, it was missing. Who am I kidding. I'll always be fucking late.
  
• A plethora of tampons. It was a veritable cotton crop.
  
• The Sennheiser ear buds Gruber gave me to replace the shite ones Apple issues with iPods. He told me when I got mine that, as far as the standard issue Apple ear buds go, he would just throw them in the trash as that was what they were fit for. Mine worked for a day and then shorted out. Not that I would be dumb enough to keep them or even wear them in public, they sounded like listening to a tin can attached to a string. Anyway, these Sennheisers are nice because they're white and therefore more aesthetically pleasing than my Koss ones, which while bulky sound so amazing. So yippee.
  
• Various love notes I forced drunkards to write on cocktail napkins when they made the poor choice to hit on me at various taverns about the town. I greatly enjoy shaming & tormenting potential "suitors" especially when they have pick up lines like "Your hair is like, really red". Or when they forget my name and still want me to go home with them. Classy. So I force them to write me passionate love notes, then I keep them and ridicule the many improper spellings & grammar errors as I ride home on the F, cherishing my wily antics. These are really precious I assure you. Perhpas I shall make my own seperate blog of them someday. Or not.

All in all, it's kind of like dumpster diving with lots of pineapple lip gloss as the result. And that can only mean F U N.