9 posts tagged “phone”
I was just Googling "high-end consignment stores" AND "Boca Raton" for my mother while she was on the phone from Florida, where she and her friend Jan are driving around looking to score some deals. [Sidenote: I cannot fucking believe I wrote that last sentence.]
Yeah, that'd be my main bitch, aka Momsies
I woke up late because I was up well in to the early morning working on God knows what. It's behaviors like this that never, ever make me question why Julia Allison is always complaining about her sleeping patterns. I function off very little sleep and I usually feel quite guilty when I finally hit the pillow. Let's face it: there's always too much to read about, too much to try and figure out, too many thoughts. I think if you're the kind of person who is afraid to ultimately fail, you don't like to sleep. Why catch Zs in a butterfly net labeled Zs when there's ideas to be conceived, right? I'll take the little failures, but I absolutely won't take making meatloaf and mashed potatoes for some man and his kids when I'm 28 because I decided that quitting my personal dream is easier. And you guys, that's totally what I'd do before going homeless. I'd find a dude who treats me like shit and buys me nice things and takes care of my dog to make up for it. I'm more American than you guys think, I think. It would crush me inside, but it's way better than sleeping on the street in an old jacket with a boom box next to me that I'm constantly struggling to afford batteries to keep going.
So I wake up and my fucking World Edition Suck My Dick Blackberry Asshole Machine is broken. For the second time, it's just fucking shit the bed. The nature of my job right now is that I need to be out and about and observing more, and I need a Blackberry because I have a serious, serious internet problem in that I love it too much to leave the house without it. So you guys? You wanna know what this technically kinda sorta unemployed ass bitch did this morning to amend her situation? She just spent a lot of money on a new phone. There was no upgrade available, there was no sale. There was no way to flirt down the salesman, so she paid cash.
I had to do it The cell phone insurance people drain me mentally in such a huge way. I feel like I've been ripped out of space and time after I hang up the phone with them. It's the kind of weird, out of your skin feeling you get when you take one of the prescription pills you found in the pocket of that vintage jacket you got. I just can't deal. If the insurance company thinks I'm going to have to sit on the line and tell them that the machines that they insure are full of shit, thus making both the company the work for a factory of lies and their lives fucking jokes, too much of the person I have left inside of me will continue to go off to that place where ever the person who used to live inside of me went.
Not to be negative or whatever.
I suppose a bigger problem would be being able to find it in my "recent calls" folder, which I can access to without the tracking ball. Then I would probably be morbidly obese and unable to do a lot of things beside getting into my address book... like using the key pad or having friends I can hang out with outside of my house.
*phone rings*
Molls: Hello?
James Franco: Hey.
Molls: Oh, hey...
James Franco: What's up?
Molls: Nothing. Just working. What are you doing?
James Franco: Playing with these guns I just bought. I have you on speaker.
Molls: Yeah, you sounded like you were far away from the phone.
James Franco: What?
Molls: You sounded lke you were far away from the phone.
James Franco: Oh, yeah. (pause) No, just speaker.
Molls: Coolness. So, uh... what's up?
James Franco: I don't know, I was kinda returning your call.
Molls: Oh yeah, I just called you yesterday because we hadn't spoken in awhile and I wanted to say hi.
James Franco: Yeah... I've been busy. (Sound of gun being loaded and unloaded is heard in the background. He's not gonna kill himself or anything. Just playin' with his guns.)
Molls: Well, I didn't really have anything to say. It's been awhile since we've talked and like, I thought that things were going pretty well and then I just stopped hearing from you one day.
James Franco: Yeah, I know. You can hate me. I'm sorry.
Molls: OK?
James Franco: It's just like... (long pause) I dunno, it's just like... Nevermind.
Molls: OK?
James Franco: Fuck, Molly. Don't do this.
Molls: What?
James Franco: You're getting like, an attitude. I didn't call you to fight.
Molls: No?
James Franco: I can't do this right now! Look! I'm sorry, OK?
Molls: Franco, you don't owe me anything. i just called to say hi. I feel like you're expecting some reaction out of me that's not going to happen.
James Franco: I just really need to concentrate on my work right now. Ya know, I got movies and stuff and then like, I was talking to Ricky and he's thinking about getting the band back together, and once we're doing it, we're gonna be really in to it.
Molls: The band?
James Franco: Yeah, that's the other thing. When you and I first started hanging out or whatever, I wasn't really playing music. I was just concentrating on making movies and shit, but before I got Spiderman and stuff, I was all about the band.
Molls: Well, what happened to it?
James Franco: Ricky broke his finger and Mark and Julian got in a fight over this girl and it was just really awkward for awhile, so we kind of just stopped practicing.
Molls: OK?
James Franco: So, I'm sorry things didn't work out or whatever, but I just don't think it would be fair to either of us if we were dating. After three months I would get all resentful and fed up and then we'd just fight and break up and I don't want to do that to you.
Molls: OK?
James Franco: What?
Molls: You haven't spoken to me in three weeks. I'm not calling you so I can be your girlfriend.
James Franco: OK, good.
Molls: ... but to my knowledge, you don't own a CD collection, even a small one. I certainly don't believe you own an instrument somewhere that you're good enough at playing that you could be in a band. It's not that I care, I just have a feeling you're lying to me.
James Franco: My bass is in storage at my mom's house. She's shipping it to me.
Molls: You're really in a band?
James Franco: I WAS in a band. The band's gonna get back together.
Molls: What band is this now?
James Franco: Well, it was Christian Rockets, but that was the name Steve came up with and he's not into doing band shit anymore and I always hated it because it sounded like we were a Christian rock band or something. I like Tigerfish, but Mark and Julian are into Wonder Dave.
Molls: Wonder Dave?
James Franco: Yeah, this dude we went to high school with was named Dave and we always called him Wonder Dave because he always found these awesome parking spaces. Anyway, I don't know.
Molls: Well, maybe you guys just need to jam a little bit and something will come to you.
James Franco: Hopefully.
Molls: Anyway, so I'm gonna finish working and go to bed, but it was good talking to you and I hope everything with the band works out.
James Franco: ... and like, I think you're a pretty cool chick. Like, I would definitely be friends with you.
Molls: Oh, for sure. Keep in touch then.
James Franco: Yeah, you still have to see these guns I got today. They cost like twelve hundred bones. They're fucking sweet.
Molls: OK, cool. Well, talk to you soon then.
James Franco: Alright, bye.
This morning Alexis got an email from a number she didn't have listed in her phone book. I suggested that maybe it was one of our friends, but then felt like the only real way I would know is if I managed to pry myself out of my desk chair and mosey over to the other side of the room where my phone is. You know, the seventeen mile journey it is to the other side of my bedroom....
Three.
On a Sunday.
Me = The Best.
UPDATE: She called me back.
