i transferred all my money (except for $10) from my ex-bank account to my shiney new bank account. i'm not quite sure why i left the $10 but it was obviously a good idea because despite the fact that i have barely used the account for almost 3 weeks they have found 7 dollars and 32 cents worth of reasons to charge me for transactions and whatever the hell else they steal your money for. so at lunch time i decided to end the relationship once and for all. i stormed into the bank ready to accuse them of betrayal and tell them how badly i felt they had treated me but they didn't give me a chance. the nice lady simply filled in a small form, got my signature and wished me a good day. as i left the bank with my unresolved issues i noticed a sign on the wall which read "hsbc: number one for customer service". i laughed to myself but at the same time i couldn't help thinking that they were pretty damn efficient at closing my account!
4:26 p.m. - October 16, 2002
it was mid afternoon and we were lying on the king sized bed in hotel guest robes, drinking champagne. the nice lady who had just filled up the mini-bar (which we had tucked into about 17 minutes after our arrival because nothing is more fun and decadent than eating a pack of m & m�s that costs close to twice the amount of the GND for an average sized third world country) let herself back into the room for the third time, turned to us and asked is there someone in the bathroom?. yes i said. i have another couple of guys in there and if you ever leave this room for long enough to give me some privacy i am going to have a big orgy on this here bed'. ok i didn't really say that but that was a way more interesting answer than me simply saying no (with a few giggles thrown in for good measure) and then wondering if she really thought we were having a threesome.
last night on the way home from my aerobics class i popped into the poshest supermarket that has ever existed to purchase some grape soda, some cheese and some hard taco shells. after an hour of jumping around and sweating i wasn't looking all that hot (although frankly i seriously doubt i look all that hot when i haven't been jumping around and sweating because if i did i wouldn't be doing all the jumping around and sweating in the first place...but i digress). anyway, the cashier, who looked a damn sight hotter than i ever have, suddenly said to me 'i love your hair. it's so fun'. fun?? did she really just say fun?? how is my hair fun?? did she mean it looked like i was wearing a clowns wig? had she seen my hair out on the town getting drunk and shaking its booty on the dancefloor? i needed answers but of course me being me i just blushed, said thanks and walked away.
since i've just mentioned urban fare i feel totally compelled to also mention a certain type of coffee they sell there. the luwak is a very rare palm-tree dwelling civet cat. a denizen of the coffee (kopi) plantations of java, sumatra, and sulawesi, the luwak eats only the ripest coffee cherries. unable to digest the coffee beans luwaks graciously deposit them on the jungle floor where the locals eagerly collect them to be separated and roasted into kopi luwak coffee. this unique process results in a coffee with a distinctive and complex taste � earthy, musty notes with hints of dark chocolate and caramel. so basically its $150 for a few mugs of coffee which have been shit by jungle cats and from what i've heard tastes like it has too. i would love to know who buys this crap (and i use the word crap literally). imho they would have a better cup of coffee and a higher feeling of self worth if they bought a jar of maxwell house and gave the other $145 to charity but then i was never a big fan of coffee.
1:54 p.m. - October 16, 2002
i�m listening to vampyros lesbos (sexadelic dance party) soundtrack on my machine at work...so far i�m finding the cd cover more erotic than the music but i�m only on the second track so maybe it will get more frisky.
it�s my, or rather our, wedding anniversary today (see photo above). three years of wedded bliss. ok, two years of wondering if we made the right decision about getting married and one year of wedded bliss. i married my best friend and lover of 10 years for immigration purposes and i ended up falling head over heels in love with him. i consider myself very, very lucky. in fact i feel so lucky that i�m about to start blubbering at my desk :)
9:17 a.m. - October 16, 2002
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