You know what, I think I’m going to get rid of my entire music collection. From now on, I’m only going to listen to the Spice Girls and the “boy bands”- just “artists” who have completely sold their souls to the record industry. Cause right now, I’m listening to The Doors and Jimi Hendrix and frankly, they’re making me feel like corporate, yuppie scum. The worst is when I’m sitting at work and listening to my music while doing some mundane chore like typing a letter…“Dear Mr. Stevenson:

{Jim Morrison:”This is the end…}

We greatly apologise for the mistake made on page 403 of the report we…

{my only friend… }

submitted to you on January 3rd. We hope that this has not delayed…

{The end…”}

the projected completion date of the project.”

Well by the time, I’ve written a page and a half, I’ve come to the music induced conclusion that working is a waste of time. So you know what that means-yep, no proof-reading! This, of course, does not usually fair well with my boss- especially if I misspell his name. I’d say the Doors are definitely trying to ruin my career; and I just don’t need this kind of pressure.

Hey, I’m a hip, rebellious type of girl. But really, there’s just no room for rebellion in corporate America. The closest I’ve ever got was wearing white socks with a black suit, and I’m not even sure if that was my rebelling so much as my not having done laundry that week. I sometimes go through a phase, though, (and it’s usually after watching a movie like “The Legend of Billie Jean”) and I’m like “That’s it. No more corporate culture for this girl! I’m going to pierce or tattoo something!” Unfortunately (or perhaps, fortunately) for me, there is no piercing/ tattoo establishment anywhere near me.

So, then, I have to hike all the way across town, and by then, it’s occurred to me that if I do pierce my nose, my boss will probably fire my ass. Shortly thereafter, it then also occurs to me that I probably can’t get by on just my looks- especially if those looks include four rings through my nose. So then, I start thinking about maybe getting a tattoo. But of course that then brings me to the problem of placement. Cause if I tattoo my arm, well, then I’ll have to wear long sleeves at work all summer long, so that won’t do. And if I tattoo my leg, I can’t wear skirts to work. And if I tattoo my stomach, well then no bikini at the company picnic. And it just doesn’t seem very worthwhile to get a tattoo where no one but my undertaker will ever see it.

So after a good thirty minutes, what I usually end up with is a small 1/2″ by 1/2″ space on my lower back. Into this space, I figure I could probably squeeze a small butterfly or perhaps a little heart. But then, it occurs to me that I suddenly feel a lot like Olivia Newton John’s character in Grease; and not the “bad” Sandy but rather the “tentatively cigarette smoking” Sandra Dee. And well, frankly it’s a big jump from Jim Morrison to Sandra Dee.

So yeah, I guess for now, I’ll have to hold off on the tattoo/ piercing bit. But, hey, who knows- perhaps, when I’m eighty years old and I don’t have to worry about impressing anyone, maybe, I’ll pierce my tongue or something…