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Friday, Sept. 06, 2002 / 1:17 p.m. ~No Memorializing Here, Keep Moving~ I overestimated Big Brother. They simply showed the 'drunk Amy' montage last night instead of Wednesday. The falling from the hammock and everything. And as has been pointed out on the recap boards, she is no worse than the previous HGs, or many other people her age, it's just that she is often the only one drinking. So it makes her look bad when she gets tipsy. No food + alcohol + small frame = tipsy. Or 'drunk'. Poor woman. And Roddy� oh, Rod. He was the first evicted HG to look away from the taped 'farewell's in Chenville. Yeah, he is so incredibly camera-aware he couldn't help but be distracted by the shiny red light, even while Amy was pouring out her lovesick heart to him. Again, poor woman. Um, poor misguided woman. Gah! I LOVE that show. It is SO quiet today. Lulu's name has not been mentioned. There is a box at her cubicle, partially filled with her things. There is a small stack of books on her desk, the one on top being one of those "Knock 'Em Dead" books. Whether it's for resumes or cover letters, I'm not sure. I don't want to look too hard. I'm not too surprised, seeing as how she's got the ADHD, that she left her stuff, but still, yeah, wow, huh? I'm thinking she was thinking she was inches from being fired, so she didn't give them the chance. But what she may not, okay, she DID not, realize is that you can't get fired around here. It's really hard, no kidding. I want to stand up and say, "Hey, you guys, it sure is quiet without Lulu around, no? Can't we even eulogize her? Huh, huh, huh?!", but I don't. My lips are as zippered as theirs. One of the computer guys came by earlier, the one from Pakistan. He sees the box and says, "What, are you packing up?" and I say, "She's no longer with us" and he says, "What happened?! She get fed up?" and I say, "What happened? She just stormed out of here!", kidding, of course, and it got quiet, he kept moving, left to talk to D., the Supervisor, and the joke fell flat. Truth is, I don't know what happened. I doubt I ever will. But last night I went back through my diary from last year, read several entries, and besides really enjoying my writing style (guess I'm feeling superior in my PMS, not insecure and inferior, which is nice!) I noticed exactly how much I wrote about her. Lulu this and Lulu that and Lulu everything. We were buds for a bit there, then we weren't, she lied, she betrayed me, but she was infectious, contagious, she got to me, but dammit if I don't fucking miss her! Already. The fact that we're not even mentioning her is too much. Even on BB3 when someone leaves, well, good god y'all, they go on and on and on ad finfuckingitum. You know? It's like a death every time someone leaves that house, but they memorialize, they eulogize, they honor the departed, they trash the dear departed, but they don't just ignore that there was once someone else there with them. Here? It's fookin' freaky as hell, all there is to it. And Quincey is off for her father's birthday, and Veronica is off for a funeral, and it's just five of us, and D., the Supervisor. It's busier because of those missing. And it's quiet. And I'm in Friday Casual mode, I'm up, I'm chipper, and that doesn't fit in. This is like the alterna-job today. No, like another dimension, like the same job, the same people, but we're in some other dimension, some other universe, or we've all been replaced by Folger's crystals. These are not my regular coworkers, not at all. That's fine. I'm good. Except I am far too distracted to read. And even if I could read the phone would interrupt me every paragraph, I am sure of it. So, let's instead look forward to the weekend, ah yes, the weekend. Time off, time away, me, cats, entertainment, etc. The weather is supposed to cool off considerably, things should be dandy, groovy even. And I applied for a receptionist job at a local radio station. Last night. Online. Trust me, don't get excited, I'm not. I have nothing to lose so I don't try too hard. My cover letters are light and breezy, you should see; they're injected with humour, fun, whee! (I used a semicolon, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah! And why in hell?) Ten minutes until I leave for lunch. Food will make all the difference in the world, I think. Third day in a row, PBJ. BB3 recaps. All will be good, well, and fine. Cost of the War in Iraq
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