I have a new pimple on the side of my mouth. The down side to this spot is that it hurts whenever it gets wiped with a napkin, or touches the side of a glass while sipping. Who knew the side of your mouth gets touched that often?
* * * * *
Okay, there's one thing in Hollywood that I like. Ah, live music. Sad when it takes you ages to remember the last time you had fun. Oh, working stiffs. Hollywood, 1. Not Hollywood, 100.
So I've joined the apartment-hunting club. Or the, I need-to-look-at-places-because-I'll be-homeless-in-five-minutes club.
I killed a roach last night.
It felt like a sign. Maybe it's God saying, "Yeah, you know what? You really should move. It's time - get on the stick!"
It's the whole poverty stricken stigma of finding a bug in your apartment. I wonder how many roaches the one that I've seen is representative of, the ones unseen behind our furniture and walls. I think I've killed at least a handful of spiders in the past year, and I've seen enough cobwebs to deck out the late Aaron Spelling's place in October.
Stop Interrupting!
I hate it when I find myself interrupting someone. Sure, you get bored hearing someone drone on or talk without letting others get a moment edgewise. But it's just so rude. It's the slightest but completely infuriating thing when someone ELSE interrupts YOU. Because when you interrupt someone, this is what you're really saying:
"'I believe what I am saying is more important than what you are saying.' And I can't find another way to see that than: 'I believe that I am more important than you.' And that must end." [Eat, Pray, Love]
So true, Liz Gilbert, so true.
COTW
