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LiveJournal for Rosebud.

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Monday, December 9th, 2002

Time:4:07 pm.
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Time:4:04 pm.
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Thursday, November 7th, 2002

Subject:The Thong of Shame
Time:1:43 pm.
The following message was left for me by Stealth Ass:

Tues October 29 10:29 am

Hey, it's Nickerson. What's going on? I'm in San Francisco. Everything's good except for one thing. Some really bad knitting happened on the plane last night. I took the knitting out of the bag and it started out as a blue square and I don't know what I've done but I have proceeded to make the front of a blue thong. I now have a pair of women's panties. I don't know what I did but it turned from a blue square into a triangle. I can't wait for you to see it; it's got to be the thong of shame.

Please call when you can. Everything's great - look forward to hearing from you.
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Monday, November 4th, 2002

Subject:Wanted to Share the Quote of the Month
Time:11:01 am.
This weekend my brother and I were arguing about which one takes the other for granted more.

Jocey pipes in: If you don't shut up I'll take you both up the ass.

We were all silent then.
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Wednesday, October 9th, 2002

Subject:I thought I was better about updating this
Time:4:52 pm.
Mood: hopeful.
I didn't realize it had been so long since the last time I updated this thing. And what a pathetic last update - I taste like bread.

I actually don't really taste like anything. I just licked the back of my wrist to check. Nope, nothing.

I've been cheating on my livejournal by writing in a real paper journal. I've been much more faithful to that one - if for no other reason than it's a class requirement.

I've rediscovered that my relationship with my mother is a disaster. Johnny tells me to talk to her. I don't want to.

I may be moving into a rented house with Johnny (current roommate) and Jim (potential future roommate). I've known Jim only for a few weeks but I can tell he's a great guy. It's fun to know someone new - one that you know you'll have a lot of good times with. It only happens now and then. While I've continued to meet people like any normal person, I'd say it's been several months since I've meet anyone who has completed the full application and interview process of joining my team of friends.

Jim has good references and interviewed well.

We went to see a movie over the weekend. He tripped up the stairs on the way in and spilled his popcorn. If he hadn't laughed at himself, you're right, it wouldn't have been so funny. No one was hurt. The 16 year old goth punk kid who had to sweep it up seemed a little annoyed.

I should know in a few days, hopefully, if this whole moving thing will work out. It's about time Johnny and I move into a larger space. I had a minibreakdown on Sunday as a result of complications arising from the lack of personal space we have in the treehouse.

All better now.


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Tuesday, September 17th, 2002

Time:11:11 am.

What Flavour Are You? I taste like Bread.I taste like Bread.

I am a staple in almost everyone's diet. Friends like me are a complement to any other friends I get on with almost everyone, remaining mostly in the background, but providing substance when it would otherwise be lacking. What Flavour Are You?

I've been happy lately. It's a good way to be.
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Time:11:01 am.

What Flavour Are You? I taste like Bread.I taste like Bread.

I am a staple in almost everyone's diet. Friends like me are a complement to any other friends I get on with almost everyone, remaining mostly in the background, but providing substance when it would otherwise be lacking. What Flavour Are You?

I've been happy lately. It's a good way to be.
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Friday, August 30th, 2002

Subject:Me and the Sexual Heathens
Time:4:38 pm.
I'm leaving work early today. Maybe as soon as I finish this post.

School starts on Wednesday. I've got to weeknight classes for a change; up until now they've all been on the weekend during the day. I never did well at the University with the night classes, now things will be different - the older and wiser things working in my favor.

I haven't been as good about going to the gym these last couple of weeks. Sure, I've been squeezing in three visits (but this week only two!), but I'd really like to get it up to a consistent 4 times per week. I've been walking a lot out of not going to the gym guilt. That's something.

Did I ever mention to you that my boys don't tell me about their shenanegans? That's what my roommate would call it. Tom and I were discussing the fact that certain information is withheld from me - specifically details of the boys' sexual encounters.

Tom said to me something like, "does it surprise you to find out your friends are a bunch of sexual heathens?"

No, it doesn't really surprise me because even though I'm not told outright I get a sense of what's going on that I'm not told. It's been this way for a long time. I asked Tom why it is this way. He thinks that it's either because I'm a girl, or that they just want to shelter me from knowledge of their sexual heathenism. Is that a word?

How should I feel? Should I demand that they tell me everything? I know that's pushing it. But consider the fact that my group of friends is pretty tight-knit. We all share basically the same core group, with each having a few friends here and there that are not part of the core (that's Nicole, Jodi, Tara, Becky, Jocey, Douglas, etc., for me). If Robert, for instance, is sharing stories with other "core members" shouldn't he also share it with me? I shouldn't feel left out if it's just now and then, but this is different, this is almost a systematic, "don't tell Rose we're sexual heathens" kind of thing.

Or don't I want to know? I already said that even if they don't tell me outright, in one way or another I generally develop an understanding of what's going on. If I'm not told the info directly then I can pretend it doesn't concern me and that it's none of my business, maybe even that it's just a rumor and therefore probably not true.

Opening up a can of worms or what?

I almost think the status quo is what I want to stick with. Should I tell them at least that they're not really pulling the wool over any eyes and that I'm fully aware of their status as a bunch of sexual heathens?

Enough! I'm leaving!


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Tuesday, August 13th, 2002

Subject:I like nectarines
Time:5:11 pm.
Today I built a form letter. It would make my dad proud. Actually he would probably be indifferent. He's generally confounded by the business world.

I feel accomplished since when I started this job I didn't even know anything about excel and now I am much more proficient. The letter I created will help my team move mutual funds. We have to send information to the fund companies instructing them what to move where. Previously we were inserting information in a word document, cutting, pasting, deleting extra spaces, adjusting alignments, etc. Now that I've created the same document on excel, protecting the spots that don't need data, one just has to tab through the form, entering what they want.

I know, dear, it's not very exciting.

My roommate's hot brother is in town. I live with the more attractive sibling, I have to say, but it's amazing what good looking genes this family has to work with.

We're going up to Potsticker's cabin this weekend. There'll be ten of us up there. I'm riding up with Johnny, then back down, a day before the others, with Tom. We have to work on Monday while the rest won't return until Monday evening.

My brother returns to Minneapolis on Sunday. I think Tom and I will be back in time so that I can go meet him at the airport. I know Dad and Julie will also be there to pick him up, but I'd like to go along for the ride. He's been gone for so long it's amazing to think he'll be back again. I hope he stays for awhile. Even a year would be nice. Several years would be nicer.

I don't like it when people I love aren't here all the time. That sounds ridiculous. I can't have all of them around me constantly. I know this. I just wish the more important ones would stay put.

It's all a part of life.

Jodi, Nicole, and I watched fireballs shoot across the sky the other night. The Perseid meteor shower peaked last night. That was a weeknight, so we went out early and spent an hour and a half at the side of the road outside Afton State Park wishing for sex at the sight of every one of the shooting stars. It was a lot of fun. Laying on the grass in the middle of the night watching the sky is the perfect medium for honest girl-talk, if you ask me. The whole wishing for sex was just a joke among the three of us. I know I wished for a few other things, and some of the streaking meteors were just to dazzling to remember to make any wishes.

I'm leaving work now. I may try to go to the gym later.


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Thursday, August 8th, 2002

Subject:Ode to all those who have slept in airports, train stations, bus stations, and all of the above
Time:9:10 am.
Today my brother begins his long trek home. He may be on a bus from Logrono (remember the tilda on the "n" and pronounce it lo-groan'-yo) to Madrid. There is not night bus or train from Logrono or Madrid and his flight leaves for Frankfurt at 9:50 am so he will have to spend the night in the airport. The flight isn't long and he has only a short layover Frankfurt, it's just over an hour so he'll probably directly board the second flight. I hope he doesn't run into any timing difficulties. His flight to San Francisco is very long - about thirteen hours, I think. It will be so great to first have him back in the country. I'll be able to call him anytime from my cellphone. He'll be back in Minneapolis in 10 days.

Milo and I spent the night in the Casablanca airport, I might have mentioned that. We spent more than a few hours in miscellaneous train stations and maybe a cumulative couple of hours in bus stations on our long trip.

It's not fun, time passes slowly, but generally you have a trip you're looking forward to ahead of you.

Milo will be home soon. I'm so very happy about that. We bickered a lot on the trip, at least a couple times a day. For all that, he's one of the most important people in the world to me, maybe even the most important. Yeah, he's my favorite.

Good luck Milo. Don't miss your connecting flight in Frankfurt. It'll be close.


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Tuesday, July 30th, 2002

Subject:I'm Back!
Time:1:12 pm.

Take the Dessert Quiz

I came in to work today. I'm fairly useless - too jetlagged to be of much value to my employer. I feel like Dorothy upon returning to the farm from Oz.
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Saturday, July 20th, 2002

Subject:Sevilla, Spain
Time:8:41 pm.
So I wrote a big long entry from an internet cafe in Morocco. However, the computer crashed as I was trying to post it so that was that.

I only have about 10 minutes left and I would like to post something more significant than "I am in Sevilla," so I´m just going to try copying an email I just sent to a friend:

I read your email in Rabat, Morocco but I couldn´t reply until I got to Spain. The internet connection sucked ass in Morocco. I had one hour during which I was able to read maybe three emails and reply to two of them. Unfortunately yours was the email I couldn´t reply to. No wait, I did reply to yours, it was Robert´s I didn´t reply to. You´re lucky.

Morocco was exotic, beautiful, filthy, and at times utterly horrible. I slept finally after 48 hours of irritating wakefullness. I don´t know if I would go back, it was suck a constant hassle. We stuck out as tourists, and they assume tourists from other countries just have money shooting from their asses. When is the last time that happened to you? Not very often. Just about everyone is tries to get money out of you, anything and everything you do has a price. Things in stores don´t have price tags on them, you have to ask and if you´re a tourist the price quoted to you is 10 times what they charge locals. It got really annoying, and could be really expensive if you weren´t careful.

At last we´re in a civilized land (please note the irony, I´m not being a xenophobic American). There is such a difference between Spain and Morocco. You can see a lot of Moorish influences that travelled north through Morocco and into Spain in the architecture and art, it´s really interesting. People leave us alone here for the most part. There are tourists crawling all over the place. My Spanish is better than I thought, I can get around. People smile a little at my broken Spanish, but they understand and I can get what I want by myself unlike in Morocco where people speak almost nothing but Arabic and French. Milo´s French is aparently pretty good. It got tiring though to have to rely on him constantly to communicate with anyone. Not that anyone really spoke to me anyway, I´m just a woman, a second class citizen. Never have I experienced such profound sexism, I knew to expect it, but still it caught me off guard. When I was with Milo and we were talking with someone, a hotel manager, a shop keeper, it was almost as if I wasn´t there. Though while on the street I was constantly and openly stared at. Children, adults, old people, it didn´t matter. It was as if my head had burst into flames and people didn´t want to tell me but they were fascinated by it.

I´m glad to be in Spain. Did I say that yet?


I know there´s a lot more I want to say, but it can´t all come out at once. I´m glad I´m here. I´ve glad I did this. It´s a big thing, perhaps even bigger than I had anticipated.


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Sunday, July 14th, 2002

Subject:I'm in Féz with my brother
Time:4:08 pm.
I am in Féz at an internet café.
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Friday, July 12th, 2002

Subject:When in Amsterdam...
Time:5:26 pm.
I'm in Amsterdam. I've been here for 11 hours. I haven't slept in about 27 hours. I couldn't sleep on the plane and I haven't been able to sleep here in the airport. I feel kind of sluggish and zombie-like. I haven't taken a look at myself in the mirror since this morning. I'm sure I look lovely.

My plane arrived this morning at 6:30, I went through customs and took a train into the central station and arrived there at 8:00 am. I wandered around town until about 10:30 and then ventured into a coffeeshop called the Jolly Joker. I smoked hash for the first time. It was a very mellow high. I stumbled around town until about 1:00 and then thought I'd go back to the airport. I thought I could sleep somewhere here because I'd remembered seeing a lot of comfortable looking reclining chairs set out for weary travellers. I staked my claim on one of them but never was really able to sleep. Oh well. Now I'm stuck here for the next four hours. Not that staying in the city for longer would have done me much good. With the fatigue and the hashish I probably would have collapsed somewhere.

I would love to come back to Amsterdam someday to stay longer, maybe a few days. It's an old city and seems to have a lot to offer.

Time is running short. At least I was able to burn up another 30 minutes.

I'll write again after having slept at least one stretch of eight hours.


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Wednesday, July 3rd, 2002

Subject:Waiting for a phone call
Time:5:53 pm.
I'm leaving one week from tomorrow. I had a dream last night - nothing but the standard anxiety dream - that a number of things went wrong in relation to my upcoming vacation. I'm not very worried about any of it. It will all go well.

My stepbrother's wedding is this weekend. Todd will be my date. I don't know what I'll wear. I think I'll wear the long skirt I bought for the trip and the beige sleeveless sweater I bought for the interview I had a few weeks ago. That'll be nice and conservative. I'll wear the pearls too and will shave my armpits.

I'm hoping to do some research before the wedding. Todd says he's all for it too. That's why I'm waiting on a phone call. You know who you are, call me back. I need a book for two, that's it. Just a little bit of reading material to get my mind working nicely to get through the wedding.

I'm going home. I'm tired of being at work.
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Time:5:52 pm.

what's your inner flower?

[c] s u g a r d
e w

That figures.
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Friday, June 28th, 2002

Subject:Visit the Condiment Packet Museum!
Time:4:24 pm.

Don't ask me how I found this site, but it's incredible!
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Monday, June 24th, 2002

Subject:The Monthly Update
Time:1:14 pm.
I've purchased my ticket. I'll be leaving for Casablanca, Morocco in about 17 days. Milo will meet me there, we'll travel around Morocco for about nine days then cross the Strait of Gibraltar on July 19th. We'll then spend some time in Spain and I return on July 29th.

My passport has been located and is in good order. Milo has given me a list of items to bring him (wife beaters, his "man purse," a novel in Spanish, and a few other odds and ends) and has asked me to bring an empty bag so I can haul some of his stuff back with me. That doesn't fill me with joy, but dutiful sister will comply. After I leave Spain Milo will stay there another 10 days or so then he'll fly to San Francisco to spend time with our mother. He'll return to Minneapolis on August 18th.

I've never been to Morocco. I've never been anywhere in Africa. This trip has come up suddenly and has caused me to not be able to go to the Winnipeg Folk Festival. Luckily I was able to unload the ticket. That allowed me some cash to buy some clothes for the trip. I'm more concerned about my wardrobe in Morocco. It's a Muslim country and the guidebooks recommend that women wear long skirts and long sleeved shirts. The average temperature that time of year is in the upper 80's. Boy, am I looking forward to that! I was able to find a long light cotton skirt and some light rayon shirts while shopping yesterday. I wore the skirt over to Dildo's last night to test it out. It was hot last night and very humid. The skirt wasn't bad - as long as I had it hiked up above my knees. It probably won't be fitting to do that in Morocco.

I'll survive, I know. Whenever I have time and stumble across an internet cafe I will update my journal. I might even get another entry in before I leave. Stranger things have happened.
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Wednesday, June 5th, 2002

Subject:Lost Love and Breakdancing
Time:11:38 am.
Have you seen the Dirty Vegas video for "Days Go By?" I really like it. It effectively delivers the story of the lonely broken-hearted breakdancing man. I've seen it only a couple times while at the gym but it really touches me. The video's not over the top in any sense, it's subtle, clear, direct, simple. I like the song too. I guess the album was just released yesterday and the Electric Fetus is having a sale so I might have to make a trip there after work.

I've been keeping a running list of albums I might like to purchase. I haven't spent much money on CDs in the last several months so I won't feel guilty about a little spree.

Johnny and Robert are leaving for LA tomorrow. I have to drop them off at the airport. They'll be back on Tuesday but will leave again for Potsticker's (not his real name, of course) cabin two days later and once again they'll be gone for about five days. I'm not pleased about that. I'm going to send them an email.

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Tuesday, June 4th, 2002

Subject:Singin' in the Rain
Time:9:43 am.
It's raining this morning. I got soaked on my way in even though I was using an umbrella. I have two in my back hall at home. One is mine and the other belongs to Charles. I've not returned it. Charles' umbrella is not as big as mine but I had to use it since it appeared there could be spiders crawling around it. I don't like spiders, especially when they fly at me as I pop open something like an umbrella.

My ridiculous fear of spiders is why I'm sitting here with a damp left shoulder and a wet hind end.

Rain makes me think of Cary Grant (that's right, isn't it) in that wonderful musical. His yellow slicker, black umbrella, dancing around singin', yes singin' in the rain...

I interviewed for a new position here at work yesterday. It would be a considerable advancement for me if I was offered the position. I'm crossing my fingers. I'm working on a thank you note to the gentleman who interviewed me.

Basically I want to say, "Thanks for interviewing me. I kick ass. If you're not sure, talk to my current leader. He thinks I kick ass. I would kick ass in the position you're trying to fill now. I hope you realize this soon. If I got the job Johnny and I could finally put the hot tub in the back yard an have it filled with gazpacho for the summer."

This is essentially what I want to say, but I should use different words. I was talking to my father yesterday. He's never worked in the business world. He's been a carpenter since, since forever. He's worked for different people, but he's always "built stuff," or "remodeled stuff." Julie, his wife, my step-mother, works for a large local corporation too. He's learning about the corporate world.

Last night I was telling him about the different language used, the different culture in the business world. He asked me if I felt like a sell-out. He didn't say it in so many words, and he didn't mean it in a bad way. That would have definitely been humorous though.

Dad: Daughter of mine, at which point in your life did you realize you had "sold out?"

Rose: Well Father, I took up sucking the corporate teat a few years back when I took...

You see how that conversation would have gone.

What I have against me is what could be perceived as a lack of experience. I tried to relay my willingness to learn, my determination, my resourcefulness, etc., so the interviewer might consider me for the position. I have great hopes but do acknowledge the likelihood of not being offered the position. I'll be disappointed but I'm trying to remind myself that the important thing is that I tried. I put myself out there and that's the only way to move on.

I won't know for a good two weeks whether or not I got the position. I'll let you know.


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LiveJournal for Rosebud.

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