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Aug. 1st, 2008 | 01:22 pm
If you haven't already, I highly recommend trying Tropicana's new Peach Lemonade. I adore it, and my mother, who doesn't even like lemonade, is singing its praises. I finished the whole carton, though, so the rest of my family is out of luck....
In other news, I'm heading upstate tomorrow to visit my best friend for her birthday. I am most incredibly excited, I haven't seen her for far too long. It's a pain in the ass the process it takes to get all the way up there, since I cannot drive and neither can she, but it's worth it, I say! She seems to be really far upstate, and it will be interesting since I haven't seen any of the splendid state of New York besides New York City, where I am dwelling. So it'll be interesting....as well as exciting because I miss miss miss my best pal.
I have a lot of stuff to do before I go, like wrap her birthday gift and pack and get someone from work to cover for me. My boss is really bad when it comes to sheduling and such, so it's hard to get someone to cover for you when you don't even have a shedule to see who's working, but I like the place too much to complain or quit. It's a botantical garden and cultural center, so I work in art galleries and in a chinese garden and just in gardens in general...plus I get tickets to see plays they put on and such. It's a nice place, and everyone who matters is really friendly. Everyone who works the same job I do (cashier/tour guide/customer service rep) is either retired or in their early twenties. The retired people are fun and like grandparent-ly...or like an uncle or aunt or something, and they usually only work during the week. The weekend people are the most fun, they're all around my age but in their twenties, like I said, and the youngest, the new girl, is 14. She's pretty nice too, a bit sycophantic but overall a nice girl.
Here's a poem I wrote while working that I am not quite sure about.
Here, in this box,
there are things carved
every which way
and the paint is gray
with existing.
There are hieroglyphs
in wood
though mostly,
the artists,
with not enough energy,
and too much time,
practiced caligraphy.
They always say
handwriting is personality,
but here you can see
that's a lie.
In the surface of the earth
and the surface of this table
everything is anonymous
and even the scrawl of the uncultured
is poetry.
