rachelleneveu: (seriously guys: what the helling hell)
+ I like tequila and gin and vodka, I like bourbon and whiskey and wine. I do not like beer, and if I tell you as such, please don't keep trying to buy it for me.

+ Don't use your lung cancer-stricken father to try and gain my sympathy. It is classless, disrespectful, and actually really sad.

+ Telling me I'm beautiful and that you think "girls who wear glasses have something more, you know?" does not negate the fact your opening line was, "A lot of my friends hate the Jews, but I don't."

+ If I say I don't want to go home with you, or go away from the bar, or to the park, or for shawarma, or to see where your car is parked at the gas station, no amount of asking is going to change my answer. I've seen enough episodes of SVU to figure out how these stories tend to play out.

+ If you're going to try to kiss me or whatever, fine, but don't fucking bite me on the mouth. Seriously, it's weird.

I went down to Mr. Goodbar on Elmwood with Harper and a few others last night. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
rachelleneveu: (Default)

You know, I thought that with school letting out, I would actually have time to do things outside of sleep and work, but in the past week I have:



Life nonsense lies below -- you've been warned! )


So, to recap: I am alive, I am still writing, and I am back for all the fun things I’ve missed in the past two months. I promise. :-)

rachelleneveu: (bad day)

Morning, everyone. I'm killing time in the Writing Center while I wait for my first class to start, and already I can't wait for it to all be over.

So far today, I have:

- Woken up to three drunk texts from Sam, a friend of a friend I went on one failed date with back in January and who presently has a girlfriend, basically asking me if I wanted to "meet him l8er for sumthin fun." *shudder*

- Accidentally snapped the cord on my headphones.

- Called my manager to check my work schedule, only to be told that not only do I work six to midnight tonight, but I'm also stuck working the closing shift for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Apparently sleep will not be a part of my life at all this weekend. Shame, that.

- Gotten my sleeve caught in my car door without realizing it and subsequently ripped my favorite shirt.

- Tripped over my own feet walking up a flight of stairs and smashed my face on a step hard enough to draw blood.

Okay...you know what, world? I get it. I've been too happy these past few weeks, and you're just balancing everything out again. But couldn't you have, I don't know, spread it out over a few days instead of hitting me with it all at once? Couldn't you have given me some time to adjust to the fact that my life is about to return to the bleak, gray thing I'm used to? *sigh* I'm done with school by 5:30 and for as much as I love being a part of the magical world of retail, work is going to be torture. But who knows - maybe I'll get lucky and it'll be dead most of the night, which means that I have less crazy people to deal with and more time to write. Hopefully that'll be the case. :o)

Class starts in about ten minutes and I don't want to be late. Later, lovelies.


rachelleneveu: (Default)

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