Dear Diary...

[chanaud]

OOC: This diary is reserved for my good friend, Ari!

Dear Diary,

Oh my god, I’ve met the most gorgeous man this morning! It happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to think, which might be a good thing. Because, I have a date for Friday night! Yay!

It started off bad this morning. When I woke up this morning, it was daylight but my apartment was eerily dark. My alarm clock was flashing 2 am, so I had to locate my cell just so it can tell me I was already 15 minutes late. The electricity was still off, so I had to take a cold shower and couldn’t blow my hair dry. I dashed around, and couldn’t find a friggin’ pair of black hose without a run. Note to self: Write a complaint letter to Hanes! I mean come on, shouldn’t a pair of hose that cost $4.00 last more than once. Or twice. It took me 15 minutes to find my keys. How it got into the microwave, I don’t have a clue. Reminder to self: Change the locks to my apt. I think the super sneaks into my apt to move keys.

Everybody in the friggin’ place was at Starbucks this morning. Finally, I show up at the building and it seemed everybody else had the same idea. I was shoved in the back of the elevator; so of course, I couldn’t get off on my floor. I didn’t even realize it until I got to the 16th floor. I tried to tell everybody I was late and we needed to go down. But they of course, all chose to ignore me. Reminder to self: When I get promoted to executive floors -- ignore peons. A whole shit load of suits finally got off on the 17th floor, which btw, looked exactly the same as my floor. When I finally looked around, this gorgeous guy was smiling at me. I turned behind me, thinking someone had just stepped in, but it was just little ole me and this gorgeous guy. He was smiling at me! Me, me, me!!

He asked me if I was lost. Pffttttt… as if I didn’t look like I belong on the executive floors. When I told him of my morning, he actually grinned and looked amused. He introduced himself as Jim. Just Jim. As if Jim doesn’t have a last name. Note to self: Find out Jim’s last name! Then he asked me where I worked at. When I told him I work as an Account Executive for the Midwest Division, his face didn’t flinch. Hmppff.. he’s probably one of those suits we always make fun of. They come in the mornings, type out a few emails and golf in the afternoon. Except this one is handsome with the most sparkling blue eyes. They reminded me of the Caribbean. I was completely lost in them. So lost, somehow I nodded my head and agreed to go out with him.

I did, however, managed to give him my email addy so he can get directions to my place. Omg! What if I didn’t give him the right email addy. Note to self: Find Jim’s email addy!

My place! I better clean up now! And what am I going to wear?????

All in all, it was a great day!

I’m off now to clean out my closet. Hopefully I can find that black dress I bought 3 years ago. Hmmm… I wonder if it fits.

Cross your fingers,

Rach

 

[ariosto]

Jaime 'Jim' Montoyo


"I'm not sure I'm ready for this Doctor Ariosto."
Jaime 'Jim' Montoyo looked up into the bespectacled and gray bearded face of his psychiatrist. His own darkly handsome and anxiety ridden features reflected back at him from the shrink's Gucci wraparounds.
"It hasn't been that long afterall...."

"Nonesense boy."
The counseler leaned back in his chair and blew a perfect smoke ring at the ceiling.
"It's been three weeks you can't grieve for her forever dammit!"

In his mind he knew that the man was right but still his heart was bleeding. Princess Di had not been just another quick lay for the
jetsetting Cuban/American playboy and male model, she'd been...well... different.
A tear rolled down the smooth tan skin of his cheek.

"Oh come on!", the Doctor stood up and strode to the wide high window of his 99th floor office. Far below the 5 oclock traffic swarmed like termites up and down Michigan avenue.
"Your wallowing in self pity, the woman was a royal slut and you know it. CHRIST MAN! get off your ass and go get laid!"
He looked nearsightedly at his rolex.
"Times up. I'll see you back here next week and I'll want ALL the details, no matter how sordid and intimate they might be of this 'date' of yours. Maybe you should even keep a journal, a diary thing, you know.
She sounds like a hot tamale Jimbo. Go eat her up."

"Thank you doctor."
Montoyo slowly unglued himself from the soft brown leather couch.
"Your always a big help."

"It's what they pay me for boy. It's what they pay me for."


Easier said than done, he thought as he rode the elevator down to the offices of Finer Image, Chicago's premier modeling agency.
After a woman like Di who could ever measure up. It wasn't fair to the girl, what was her name ....Rache? Maybe he should call or email her to break it off. He'd be off on assignment pretty soon anyway it seemed. That company she worked for, Charmingales WonderBra and Intimate Apparel had hired him for a shoot down in the islands with Tyra Banks and a few other busty bimbos. Maybe when he got back..maybe then.

But as the elevator doors opened and he caught sight of the leggy hopefulls waiting in the reception room, the doctor's words rang loud in his mind..."CHRIST MAN get off your ass and go get laid!"
He smiled inspite of his dark mood. Sometimes Ariosto talked more like a saloon keeper than a psychiatrist.