I believe that the word "hate" is in far too common usage. It cheapens the word. I, myself, am guilty of this. I "hate" everything- smoking, mushrooms, cockroaches, idiot drivers, stupid people... the list is endless. Now, I believe that I am required to up the ante, from plain old "hate" to "loathe". But why? Where will it end? I'm going to take a personal stand to bring back the true meaning of "hate!" and not use it for the trivial. This seems like an odd statement, even to myself... bring back the true meaning of "hate? No, I'm not about to go on some insane rampage, just do what I said and stop using it for the trivial. I think boredom is starting to get to me. Even I don't really understand me today!

I'm usually very composed, in any given situation, composed. It may be the influence of my British mother... those of you who know her know that she is the very image of composure and I have tried very hard my whole life to be like her. It's very difficult for a little girl to grow up with a beautiful mother. She never actually cared about her looks... that was just something that was a gift from God... but for me it was like I had to grow up and look just like her- Long red hair, green eyes, alabaster skin. The last I actually managed to get. The rest is curly blond with these strange grey, blue, aqua eyes- depending upon who you talk to, they'll give you a different answer. I look nothing like her and that was a very hard thing to deal with growing up. So, as I couldn't look like her, I would act like her. I had it down in highschool. I was cold, like ice. I never cried and was the Queen Bitch of the Universe. And I was so unhappy. Slowly, I realized that that is not who I am. I'm emotional. I'm a happy, fiercely opinionated, more than slightly off the wall, woman. I am who I am. I can still be ice cold and the Queen Bitch of the Universe when I need to be, but I've tried very hard to let go and be who I really am. The one thing I can't let go of is my composure. It's carried me through many a difficult situation. So as I stand her typing at my job in my cute suit, I remain, as ever, a picture of composure.

Do you ever have those weekends where you don't actually do what you WANT to do and it is jam packed with obligations. I don't think I actually WANTED to do any of the things that I did this past weekend. However, it still managed to be fun, just jam packed and now, at my job that just went fulltime, I'm exhausted from the weekend! Aren't they supposed to be restful? A break from working? And yet we all pack them so full, we never actually get to rest and relax. My vow is spend at least one day in a weekend for actually relaxing. Don't know how I'll fare in my quest, but I'm going to try my best.

I love flowers all flowers. Most women do. And like most women, I am particularly fond of roses. Today, one of my co-workers, who is in the throws of a new romance with a man that she actually met at Pleasure Island in Disney World (Who knew?) received roses, beautiful red roses. Although cliche, still soul achingly lovely. I'm happy for her, genuinely happy but it still stings as I have never had anyone send me roses. And so, I will wallow, just for a little while longer in my roses pity party.

I work in a bank. It's sort of a strange place for me to work given as I have no head for numbers, am a terrible multitasker, and I'm just generally the "creative type." I'm a bit off the wall. Often, someone will say something, and then a minute later, I will say something else that seems totally unrelated. Then, they give me the "Where the hell did that come from?" look and I have to explain the chain reaction that occurred in my head to get from what they originally said to where I came up with the "strange" statement. Then the other party inevitably says, "Oh." but I don't think they feel any better about my explanation.

And after that HUGE digression, I will resume my point... which is why I like my job at the bank. I have the unglorious job of bankteller. I work in my home town, in the bank that I have been going to since I was 18. Needless to say, to get hired there 8 years later was strange. But what makes it strange is that I already knew everyone, my fellow tellers and the customers. I see high school teachers that have since retired. (It is sad to me to see their somewhat disappointed looks on there faces when they see that this is what I am doing now. It's not forever,just for now.) I see my dad, my brothers, all of their friends, and prior to her death, my grandmother. (I think I would faint if I saw her walk through the door! I believe in ghosts but I don't want to see any!) One of my favourite things is the old men who come in and flirt with us. Like Trisha said when she and I were at her grandfather's Legion post, "There's nothing like old men to make a girl feel young and hot!" I don't like the stress. Working with large amounts of money is not exactly a relaxing work environment. But as I said it is for now, not forever. Does anyone really know what they want to do forever? Can you believe that they actually expect us to have it figued out by the time we're 20? That just seems so wrong!