working weekend


I can’t not go to starbucks with my lap top and not write an entry. It goes against everything I am…which is mainly a procrasinator. this is a working weekend. I have a list of 10 different tasks to accomplish by the end of this weekend, 6 of which must be accomplished before I leave this starbucks. Which 6, i don’t know, but there are still 6 and that’s all that matters. I met the cutest little asian boy today at Bankof America. I was in the financial district and he was like one of those roving managers behind the teller desk. I was totally checking him out. Over drinks last night we were talking about who and what we find attractive in men…and I hae to say that I don’t usually like my men to be pretty…but he was so cute and pretty. Soft features, big brown eyes, tall. He was roving around, and even though there were like 10 tellers with windows open, and only me and another person in line waiting to be helped, he opened an additional window, and i was the lucky patron to be seved by him. he was just cute. nothing other then standard small talk and help occured, but I was thinking the whole time that I was in line that if I got to be hleped by him I owuld tell him how good looking I thought he was. I was too chicken to do so, but he was still very very cute. Now this creepy guy is looking over the shoulder of this gentelman who is on the opposite side of my window at Starbucks. Another young cute guy in my eyesight…this has been a pretty good weekend so far, I must say. The cute young guy is ignoring the creepy old guy, but the creepy old guy still persists….anyway, back to my story….the cute young teller was named Jason Jung…chinese I assume. Went to Penn state to study English. He asked me what I was studying in college (I have a college student account). I told him I was getting a master’s degree in Education. He seemed to be impressed. We exchanged pleasantries and I was on my way with a totally good feeling of having seen my type of guy…I love them cute, tall, and Asian. Cute, tall, nice, and brown/golden, well dressed, employed.

The baby’s in the hospital. She went in on Thursday night. I had called my mom, and she was like “I’ll call you back in 40 minutes.” I didn’t hear from her until Friday. Apparently they were in the ambulance headed to Children’s in Tacoma. The baby’s been sick with a head cold all week, so my mom took her to the clinic on Thursday afternoon. They gave her 4 of these things that are like a caffiene jolt to your lungs. For the baby it would have been an equivalent of 12 cans of Coke. That still didn’t open her lungs enough to allow a safe amount of oxygen to her blood so they called an ambulance and whisked her off to Children’s. She’s alright. She’ll be home by Sunday. Apparently she has pneumonia. This baby is always sick. I worry about her and my mom. I am highly critical of my dad and his skills of being a parent. I should try harder to “give him an A” so that I can be a little nicer and a lot more understading. But I am not. My mom may come to CA with just her and the baby, which would be great. There isn’t enough room in my car for everyone, and as I told her, how is she supposed to experience LA through my eyes if she’s in a seperate car.

Fuck its cold in this starbucks. And the creepy old guy is again hovering over the young guy. Body language is a funny thing. The young guy is now smoking a cigarette, and his legs are moving back and forth…that kind of uncomfortable movement of impatience and claustrophobia. It becomes less when the creepy old guy goes a way, but not much less becuase he always returns. His legs weren’t moving at all before, and he really is not trying to engage in conversation with this old man at all. This is like watching a silent film…Hmmmmmm…


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