For clarification, I was and am upset about the bulking of my food that was delivered to me. The reason for me writing about not wanting to go on a fast. It felt intentionally done, bulking me.
I believe my phone signature delivery person was chosen by Michelle Obama because I, Cherith Gjestland am a nice person. So was the person who delivered my alcohol. It has nothing to do with the color of her skin, clothing, or anything else. The Russian t-shirt connection.
While working at Disney there was a white woman who worked in Guest Services who spoke to me several times about her bad experience of having dated a black man. She was extremely emotional about how he had ruined her credit, on and on. As soon as she started telling me not to date a black man, I stepped back in my brain. This is not the time or the place to have such a conversation. Since, she was so emotional I let her speak. It seemed she needed to get it out. That was more important to me than correcting her.
I disagreed with her in my head while letting her talk. I started avoiding her after a few times of the same conversation.
This has to do with Chocolate Chip.
This has to do with the job audition in Orlando when I was a teen-ager for voice-over work. There was someone else in the “room” while I was speaking to this agent about work. I didn’t understand the job because someone else was present. I understood the job to be about one thing, then when I got there they said it was something different from what I thought it was. At the time I believed that is what threw me and why I said no. However, I think now there was someone else watching. That is what threw me.
My mother’s car accident and trial. I was reading the abridged version of Princess Bride. We prayed before it was to convene, and the lawyer flipped his lid and yelled at me and everyone for praying. Swaying the jury or something.
Princess Bride, “I must know who you are.” “Get used to disappointment.”
Any man who gives himself a nickname like Chocolate Chip cannot be taken seriously. He had one of the best Mufasa voices. People used to remark about it all the time.
I am not sure it was a date or not. It seemed to me more like friends agreeing to meet and eat together. Because a man plans a date, asks the woman, and pays for the meal. This is how I see it. We went to Cirque together and ate at The Contemporary. I like the restaurant because it is open and has lots of openness about it.
I do not recall exactly what happened when the bill arrived at the table. I paid and told him, he could get the bill the next time we went out. I did this all the time with friends. There was something weird about the bill. If it was a date, he would have paid. There was just something weird about it.
To me the date, the meal had nothing to do with what the woman in Guest Services spoke about. Because it didn’t apply to me. Nor did Chip apply to me. The date felt like work. I had to work to make conversation. A man I want to date and have in my life should not feel like work. Conversation should happen, naturally. It should not be forced or contrived.
Also, Stuart talked too much for me to be interested in him as a potential relationship. Not every moment should be filled with words and conversation. It is nice to be in the presence of a man and not have to speak just to fill the air.
The strong, silent type. This was said to me by my work husband at WORSHIP. I enjoyed talking to him. He told me that is the kind of man I need and like and it is true. It is the kind of man I connect with.
To be clear, I want to be able to wear make-up to work. However, if I must skip make-up to make sure that I am writing a justice than as a matter of priorities it is more important that a justice is made than my vanity is saved. Still, I miss the person I was at The Container Store before I knew everything was faked. Did my make-up, worked-out, got to wear and go wherever I wanted, etc.
I believe it was David Wolfe listening on June 25, 2018 and they put it to a vote and my supervisor was outed. Or was that put in my head? Or is it not true at all?
To be clear, If I was living with a man, or married to a straight man, I would not allow him to see me doing certain maintenance beauty things. There should be some mystery in a relationship. Do not read too much into this. It is a truth. How else can romance be kept alive if every detail under a microscope is known?
Bruno was the name I gave the dog I had. He was the most beautiful dog. I don’t remember what breed he was. I barely remember anything else about Bruno. Blocked memories (that is what it is called) to keep bad away.
Gorbechev was the name I gave one of the ducks because of the markings on his head while living in Oldsmar. I don’t need to share the name of the apartments.
This is not for reproduction, not every victory is won like a Hollywood movie. The moment I paused when my fiancée asked me if I would ever date a black man, he went away from me never to return. He went away in spirit. I became disgusting to him. He still had sex with me. But, he soon found another woman to live with.
That kid at Hilton who smelled of must, or musty, or mildew, something along those lines I would talk to, however he is the kind of kid who sass’s his mother, he is not always polite, and at times kind of mean. He is not a bad person, he is just not the best kind of person.
Patty, my supervisor at Disney – seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people – who got engaged to a man who did not have a job who used to be a VP of a company and no longer worked. He was living off of her salary. In my head, I didn’t like the relationship. He should be the provider or at least working. Also, he needed to have a hip surgery. She spoke about masturbation while in a supervisory meeting. I had no idea how to respond to such inappropriateness other than to not say anything in response.
For me it is important my husband or boyfriend is the provider. I don’t want to make more money than him.
Did a person purposefully disable my filtered water forcing me to drink alcohol as a way to hydrate?
Why would such conversations be important to you people?
Sunflower seeds. Shelled sunflower seeds. My grandmother had an enormous bag of sunflower seeds in their camper when they visited us in Oregon one trip. This is how I remember her. My poor grandmother who after becoming a Christian stopped wearing make-up and listening to records. She threw out 45’s. I got to keep a compact of hers that still had powder and puff in it. I remember how fine the powder was.
I used to cough with my asthma in Oregon. I disliked running track in Oregon. The cold, damp air used to make me sick. I got bronchitis at least once a year. The PE teachers always acted like I was making up a problem with running, however one time it felt like a lance (true story) had opened a hole in my chest. I laid on the side of the track after running trying to catch my breath. These are just coincidences to the movie, I believe and nothing more.
What’s my job?
I’m exhausted!
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 