So throughout the weekend my mother was pushing the idea of Julia and I moving in with her in Highland Park. We wouldn't pay rent or what not. I protested and she protested my protest. Then yesterday she suddenly does a 180 and tells me that perhaps it would be better if we stayed in the Upper West Side and found a cheaper place, say, 1000 a month. Feasible, it is I tell you. What a strange way that was to end yesterday. I think I nearly passed out last night before it was the right time to do so. And now, a cup of tea. I love a good cup of tea in the morning. No mourning there.
July 9th, 2002
I was going to write about something or another of relative significance when suddenly two of my coworkers, both in supervisorial roles (I think I'm in a position subordinate to just about everyone) started talking about these new shoes that one of them got for her son. A pair of sixty dollar shoes, taken in to some place where some fabric with the Gucci logo was applied in strategic locations, for $45 per shoe. The shoes cost $60. Total cost: $150. Level of ridiculousness: thoroughly high. I pointed to my own shoes at some point: "$10". The wonders of Ross Dress for Less cease not. Alas. Yes, I too would love a pair of pre-Reebok acquisition Doc Marten black low-top shoes for $100, but food must be had, rent must be paid. etc.
eh... thanks to kagenako for taking this test and thus having a fine link for this test. now my silliness is official. or something.
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