fergie's Diaryland Diary

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F5: 4/4/03

A very early Friday Five...

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life?
Two houses growing up, my parents have moved twice since I�ve been on my own but they always kept a room for me, and I think those count in their own way. So, that�s four houses with my family, permanent residency not withstanding. When I moved onto the college campus I lived in the dorm, which is sort of like a mini-apartment. My first dorm mates were thugs, had guns under their mattresses, and sold bricks of weed out our window like a drive-thru. Why the university paired a theatre major with gang members is beyond me, but let that be a lesson to anyone who allows administration to assign them roommates. I quickly moved out of the dorms and into the posh on campus student apartments (still rather mini), which were reserved for upper graduate students. Never let it be said charm and good looks can�t get you ahead in life, or at least a bigger room with a private toilet. Before the first quarter was over, my ex dorm mates were busted for dealing and expelled from the university. I think it was the large neon sign above the drive-thru window that tipped off the authorities. After meeting the requirement to live on campus my first year, I then moved into my first real apartment building, which had a walk in closet the size of my previous residency. Then I moved across the country to La La Land a few years later, rented a few apartments, moved into a house, then moved out of the house and into the apartment I currently reside. I think that makes the total something like five houses, five apartments, two dorms, and my car for the few days it took me to get out here. I guess I could have just said that in the beginning, but it wouldn�t have been as interesting. Not to mention I had to write that all down just so I could take count. I have bad short-term memory form all the second hand pot smoke in that first dorm.

2. Which was your favorite and why?
I loved my house out here, but it was on the other side of the hill in Silverlake and too far away from everything. I�m very happy where I am now.

3. Do you find moving more exciting or stressful?
At this point I am somewhat of a pro. The only problem is that you accumulate more crap as you go, so it�s a pain in the ass. When I moved to La La everything fit in my car. Now I need a full size moving truck.

4. What's more important, location or price?
It�s all about the location, which generally increases price.

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)?
Why stop at a dream house? I want my own private island.

2:24 a.m. - Apr. 04, 2003

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up. down.

There seems to be a new trend developing. I don't know if it's because I neglected to include instructions for actually operating the elevator in my previous entry, or if there's an influx of really stupid people coming onto campus lately, but a number of people seem to be going the wrong way on the elevator.

For example, when I get on the elevator to go down, they continue to press the key higher than the floor I was on, then express dissatisfaction that they are making a descent. One guy looked at me and said in a thick accent "Now ve goink down." Like it was my fault, as though coming in and pressing the button changed the original course of the elevator.

How hard can it be to operate this thing people? Up. Down. Each floor is numbered. Here are some simple instructions:

Let�s just pretend you�ve never used an elevator before. Elevators transport us from one physical location to another in a vertical (up and down) line. First, you enter the building on the ground floor, often indicated with a star * on the elevator buttons once you get inside. To call an elevator to pick you up, there are two arrow keys outside the elevator doors, one going up and one going down. Ask someone to help your stupid ass figure out weather you need to go up or down. You will need to know where you�re going in order for them to help you, so calm down, catch your breath, and take your medication with a full glass of water. Usually, there is someone sitting behind a big desk that says "information" right inside the entrance of the building that can answer any questions you have.

When you know if you are going up or if you�re going down, call the elevator and wait until you hear a "ding!" sound. This should be familiar to you, and you will react naturally, as though you�ve been trained all your life to respond to a "ding!" sound. Don�t worry, you have been!

Now, haul your lard ass onto the elevator, and press which floor you are going to on the button pad with the big numbers right by the door. It has to light up in order for the elevator to stop on that floor, so if it doesn�t light up, press again firmly. Don�t go ape shit on the button if it doesn�t light up, it might be broken. Keep an eye on the numbers above the door. These tell you which floor the elevator is passing. Each time the elevator stops, there will be the familiar "ding!" sound. Check to see if this is the floor you need to stop on. Once you reach your floor, get off the fucking elevator.

If you pass the floor you were supposed to go to, you're an even bigger dumb fuck than people say you are. Now your stupid ass has to get off the elevator, walk down the stairs to the ground floor, and start all over again.

11:36 p.m. - Apr. 02, 2003

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find it by not loosing it

Usually when you misplace something, people tell you to think of the last place you had whatever it was you lost. But if you could remember that, it wouldn't be lost in the first place.

5:27 p.m. - Apr. 02, 2003

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bday plans

The perfect prelude to next weeks birthday entries, an email from my older bro:

so what kinda birthday plans ya got, ya dirty unemployed slutbag...?
-L

11:06 p.m. - Apr. 01, 2003

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and the winners are...

And the winners are...

Glitter Queen, because she's my best friend in the world, not to mention her entry was damn funny.

Maryanne, because I want to corrupt her.

Alan, because he's cute. Oh yah, and he started the whole top ten thing.

Erik, because he didn't do a top ten.

Phil, because he provided me with pics of exactly what the thong would be covering. Dirty boy.

12:22 p.m. - Apr. 01, 2003

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The best part about any holiday is the candy.

MMmmm Cadbury cr�me eggs.
The best part about any holiday is the candy.

11:08 p.m. - Mar. 31, 2003

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The robe stays

Some things I just can�t part with.

It�s a habit of mine to periodically go through my closet and clean out old items I no longer wear, designating them as contributions to Out of the Closet, an AIDS Healthcare Foundation thrift store.

Usually, it�s an easy process. Haven�t worn something in a few months? Donate it. Don�t like the fit? Donate it. Too last season? Donate it. Gift from an ex? Rip it up into tiny shards of fabric.

Then there�s the robe. It�s an old robe from my collage days, an xmas gift from my parents that never seems to make it in the donation pile even though I haven�t worn it in several years. It�s heavy, worn and slightly faded, with a blue checkered flannel pattern and a little bleach mark on the front pocket from my days as a blond. Nothing spectacular and certainly not needed in the warm sunny climate of La La Land, but I always stop myself from putting it in the donation pile every time I go through the closet to make room for my latest shopping spree.

Something about it sticks with me, something about the time and place of that robe is too close to my heart to let it go. Even though I may never wear it again. Even though I don�t think about it or even see it for months at a time. I love that dingy old robe, and I can�t even explain why. Just something I�m not willing to part with, time and time again. Maybe it�s a piece of me, of my past, or just a comfort to have resting comfortably in the back of my closet. Some things change, some things stay the same. The robe stays.

12:12 a.m. - Mar. 31, 2003

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