LiveJournal Day 1
Published Monday, August 05, 2002 by have Metrocard, will travel | E-mail this post
Today’s soundtrack: if I, offered to drive...
Today at 3:02pm: Wiggling my way to the front of the pack on the West Side Highway
Hi, my name is Rain and I’m new to LiveJournal. I don’t know who to sit with in the cafeteria.
One: I’m 31 years old, but I look 16 and feel 45. I’m like a heavily processed food; it looks fresh but after you take a bite you’re like, “Damn! This thing’s gone bad.”
Two: I’m an unabashed New Yorker. This is the only city in the world where a dog can walk down the street and step in human shit. I enjoy going away, and I really enjoy returning.
Three: I have a silver Golf, lousy memory and bad skin. If I spend too long a period without caffeine, I find most of my personality goes away.
Four: People often think I’m half, on account of my freakishly large nose that defies Asian DNA. There are teams of South Korean scientists dedicated to around-the-clock study of my nose. They draw lots of diagrams and then rip them up in frustration. You’ve never seen so much yelling.
Five: I pay my rent by freelancing for a faceless Corporation. I’d tell you about my job, but the tale of it is so boring you could use it for anesthetic.
Six: Six is the loneliest number. Oh wait a sec, that’s one. My bad.
Seven: Did you ever have one of those dreams where you go to school without your pants on? --Well, I haven’t. You’re a total freak man.
Eight: I spent last Christmas by myself in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Shanghai. Bad planning, cheap chicken.
Nine: The other day I realized that, all things considered, I’m actually kind of a jerk. But of a slightly novel strain; I’m more of a refreshing jerk. I’d tell you more but hey, I hardly know you.
Ten: I have to go now.
Today at 3:02pm: Wiggling my way to the front of the pack on the West Side Highway
Hi, my name is Rain and I’m new to LiveJournal. I don’t know who to sit with in the cafeteria.
One: I’m 31 years old, but I look 16 and feel 45. I’m like a heavily processed food; it looks fresh but after you take a bite you’re like, “Damn! This thing’s gone bad.”
Two: I’m an unabashed New Yorker. This is the only city in the world where a dog can walk down the street and step in human shit. I enjoy going away, and I really enjoy returning.
Three: I have a silver Golf, lousy memory and bad skin. If I spend too long a period without caffeine, I find most of my personality goes away.
Four: People often think I’m half, on account of my freakishly large nose that defies Asian DNA. There are teams of South Korean scientists dedicated to around-the-clock study of my nose. They draw lots of diagrams and then rip them up in frustration. You’ve never seen so much yelling.
Five: I pay my rent by freelancing for a faceless Corporation. I’d tell you about my job, but the tale of it is so boring you could use it for anesthetic.
Six: Six is the loneliest number. Oh wait a sec, that’s one. My bad.
Seven: Did you ever have one of those dreams where you go to school without your pants on? --Well, I haven’t. You’re a total freak man.
Eight: I spent last Christmas by myself in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Shanghai. Bad planning, cheap chicken.
Nine: The other day I realized that, all things considered, I’m actually kind of a jerk. But of a slightly novel strain; I’m more of a refreshing jerk. I’d tell you more but hey, I hardly know you.
Ten: I have to go now.
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