30 September 2007
♥ there are times
when I really, really hate my family.
9/30/2007
♥ a few words to live by.
"I'm sick of following my dreams, man! I'm just gonna ask 'em where they're going and hook up with 'em later!"
--Mitch Hedberg
9/30/2007
♥ great.
All my boyfriend's friends hate me for one reason or another. Perfect.
9/30/2007
♥ and plus... pandas, you know.
This morning I woke up and I felt good. It's not the meds. It's not a hangover. It's not that my day is particularly exciting, or at least not yet. It's just that I think I've found a middle ground.
And I've found someone who makes me feel like I am worth it.
And I've found someone who makes me feel like I am worth it.
9/30/2007
♥ i think we all feel like that sometimes.
9/30/2007
♥ right about now
Oh, what I wouldn't give for some chocolate milk.
9/30/2007
29 September 2007
♥ nothing like reverting to childhood!
My cousin is eleven and obnoxious and that's why I love her.9/29/2007
♥ my family
is why I'm considering schools on the west coast. I have to get out of here.
9/29/2007
♥ once upon a time,
My bizarre, uptight father drove me crazy.
The end.
The end.
9/29/2007
25 September 2007
♥ ooh george of the jungle...
...Is it bad that children's movies make me a little hot?9/25/2007
♥ a small price to pay.
Sometimes I find that I'm no longer at odds with someone I once despised, and it makes me feel so good I'm almost moved to tears.
See, this is why I won't touch that Zoloft shit.
See, this is why I won't touch that Zoloft shit.
9/25/2007
♥ and so it begins.
I'm sick of being stuck in a rut. I'm sick of going to school and then to work and only getting three hours of sleep so after about a week I get sick. Again. I'm always sick. I've been perpetually sick all year so far. I'm sick of being sick.
I'm sick of fighting with my friends over the stupidest things. I'm sick of work. I'm sick of going, going, going all the time. I'm sick of my family. I'm sick of never quite having everything done. I'm sick of there not being enough hours in the day.
I'm sick of being fat. I'm sick of gaining weight, but I don't have enough time to exercise because if I did, I'd never get all these hours of homework done. I'm sick of gossip and of stupid, bitchy girls.
I'm sick of everything.
I'm sick of fighting with my friends over the stupidest things. I'm sick of work. I'm sick of going, going, going all the time. I'm sick of my family. I'm sick of never quite having everything done. I'm sick of there not being enough hours in the day.
I'm sick of being fat. I'm sick of gaining weight, but I don't have enough time to exercise because if I did, I'd never get all these hours of homework done. I'm sick of gossip and of stupid, bitchy girls.
I'm sick of everything.
9/25/2007
♥ a less-than-amusing anecdote.
As annoying as it is to look at all those bulletins I'm never gonna read, I always add bands when they request me on MySpace. Always. Even if they're probably not that good.
Because once upon a time I had some friends who were in a band, and they requested people just like these guys are doing. What can it really hurt to help them get their names out there?
Just as long as none of them turn into ego-feeding maniacs whose only priorities are to further themselves and their careers while haphazardly tossing friends and loved ones to the side as though they never meant a goddamn thing.
Short of that, I'm fine.
Because once upon a time I had some friends who were in a band, and they requested people just like these guys are doing. What can it really hurt to help them get their names out there?
Just as long as none of them turn into ego-feeding maniacs whose only priorities are to further themselves and their careers while haphazardly tossing friends and loved ones to the side as though they never meant a goddamn thing.
Short of that, I'm fine.
9/25/2007
24 September 2007
♥ is it just me
or do Lifehouse and the Goo Goo Dolls sound eerily similar?
9/24/2007
♥ alright, fair enough.
ME: Kels, I really just want you to have a boyfriend.
KELSEY: Well... I mean, I kind of have one, minus kissing.
KELSEY: Well... I mean, I kind of have one, minus kissing.
9/24/2007
♥ is this what they mean when they tell you not to grow up too fast?
I am currently watching that episode of Friends where Rachel and Monica only have one condom between them, and they're doing rock-paper-scissors to decide who gets it, and Ross and Richard are waiting outside talking about 'Nam, and I'm suddenly really glad I don't have a roommate.
9/24/2007
♥ "i wanna relive all my adolescent dreams." --guster
Remember when things were simpler? When it didn't matter if your best friend was a boy or a girl? When your most ambitious goal was figuring out how to get your mother to buy you cookie crisp? When your friends' parents being home meant you wanted to go over there because they made delicious cookies? Remember when the best part of your day was Dawson's Creek reruns and the worst was when your mother made something weird for dinner? Remember sticking the thermometer under your lamp so your mom would think you really did have a fever? Remember thinking someday, you were going to be just like those pretty girls in the Miss America Pageant? Remember thinking that falling in love would happen just as easily as it did in Aladdin and that the biggest obstacle in your way would be that you were a mermaid and your crush was a prince? Remember when your biggest challenge was getting that damn papier machee fish to look just right? When you dreaded gym class during that one horrible, long, awful week of gymnastics because you could neither perform a perfect cartwheel nor get past that first knot on the rope of doom? Remember thinking your teacher was cool because she said "Hey, people!" instead of "Now, children"? Remember when you thought it was weird that all the grownups were jealous of you because you had so much energy? Who doesn't have energy, anyway? Remember "the talk"? Remember camping in the backyard and coming inside early because there were too many scary noises and your dad was sick of you waking him up? Remember playing with the dogs in the backyard and assuming they would still be your dogs when you had your own backyard? Remember being jealous of your neighbors' swing sets and their above ground pools? When your neighbors were your best friends just because they were there? When the only numbers you had to remember were like two of your friends'? When it didn't matter who you called first because you knew you were all going to end up together anyway? Remember when your mom always made all those appointments for you and drove you around to all your lessons? When you didn't have to keep track of anything except the fairies in your mom's garden and whose turn it was to be the sidekick? When "Did you make the reservations?" was something your parents asked each other? Remember when your parents tried to pretend they weren't fighting because they knew you were in the next room? When they didn't let you know about money problems and it wouldn't have even mattered if they had because you didn't even know what that meant? Remember when you thought sex was gross, and not just in reference to your parents? Remember when your friend at school told you the tooth fairy wasn't real and that was about as heartbroken as you'd even been? Remember when being hurt just meant you'd fallen off your bike? Remember when saying "Hey, you can't swing that way!" meant that you shouldn't twist the swing around and let it twirl you till you puked? Remember when making pudding seemed really challenging? When you and your dad made faces at each other because your mom made broccoli with dinner? When you hated broccoli so much it made you gag?
When you didn't understand why your friend's big sister spent so much time on the phone? When kissing and boyfriends made about as much sense to you as current events? When the maddest you'd ever been at your parents was when they wouldn't let you go out and play hide-and-seek with the rest of the neighborhood because it was already past ten? Remember when you didn't know who the celebrities were or care what they did? Remember when you were daddy's little girl and he told you you were the most beautiful girl in the world and you believed him? Remember when you still had your whole life ahead of you? When every mistake really was just another thing you knew better than to do next time? When it was impossible to really fuck things up? Remember when the world really was your oyster and you could be anything you wanted to when you grew up? Let's try to live like that again.
When you didn't understand why your friend's big sister spent so much time on the phone? When kissing and boyfriends made about as much sense to you as current events? When the maddest you'd ever been at your parents was when they wouldn't let you go out and play hide-and-seek with the rest of the neighborhood because it was already past ten? Remember when you didn't know who the celebrities were or care what they did? Remember when you were daddy's little girl and he told you you were the most beautiful girl in the world and you believed him? Remember when you still had your whole life ahead of you? When every mistake really was just another thing you knew better than to do next time? When it was impossible to really fuck things up? Remember when the world really was your oyster and you could be anything you wanted to when you grew up? Let's try to live like that again.
9/24/2007
♥ i'm home sick
and I'm feeling pretty grouchy about it...
9/24/2007
23 September 2007
♥ may the world see you for how stupid you really are.
To my readers: This little gem arrived in my MySpace inbox yesterday afternoon; ironically, its purpose was to tell me to grow up. Please spread the word.
Seriously Emma,
get the fuck over yourself. I'm getting pretty tired of you talking shit about me. I get you dont like me, that's fine. You can think whatever you want. But for the record. I didn't talk shit about you ALL summer. Maybe once, cuz I heard something about your trip to england. But the only person I talked to was Cera. So get off your fucking high horse, and get over it. I apologize for whatever I did, which was nothing. But I dont need to deal with it now. It was like 5 months ago, please grow up.
Well since she didn't talk shit about me all summer... Anyway, it's a good thing nobody likes that dumb bitch, least of all the ex she is so desperate to win back.
Erika, honey, why don't you solve your own problems before you tell me what to do about mine, you worthless whore.
Seriously Emma,
get the fuck over yourself. I'm getting pretty tired of you talking shit about me. I get you dont like me, that's fine. You can think whatever you want. But for the record. I didn't talk shit about you ALL summer. Maybe once, cuz I heard something about your trip to england. But the only person I talked to was Cera. So get off your fucking high horse, and get over it. I apologize for whatever I did, which was nothing. But I dont need to deal with it now. It was like 5 months ago, please grow up.
Well since she didn't talk shit about me all summer... Anyway, it's a good thing nobody likes that dumb bitch, least of all the ex she is so desperate to win back.
Erika, honey, why don't you solve your own problems before you tell me what to do about mine, you worthless whore.
9/23/2007
♥ it's always better
when I'm with you.
9/23/2007
22 September 2007
♥ ...idiot.
I'm fake? I'm fake?
Um... I really don't even know what to tell you, tiger. You're the biggest phony I know.
Um... I really don't even know what to tell you, tiger. You're the biggest phony I know.
9/22/2007
21 September 2007
♥ i am at a loss
and I can't do this anymore.
9/21/2007
20 September 2007
♥ a picture's worth a thousand words.
9/20/2007
♥ i love spirit day.
GO YOU TIGERS!
9/20/2007
19 September 2007
♥ the funny little man really does love us.
Arielle,
Very nicely done. I know you might think this is out of character for me, because I most often challenge or rebut your politically correct philosophy, but when applause is well deserved, I applaud: I am proud of you - your attitude, your constraint, and your writing in this piece is insightful and beautifully expressed. I now understand why Emma did not want to do a cheerleading edition of the paper for the dedication, and why your voices (see Mari's piece) were more important.
Thank you! Actually, I thank all of you for being real!
gndavis
Very nicely done. I know you might think this is out of character for me, because I most often challenge or rebut your politically correct philosophy, but when applause is well deserved, I applaud: I am proud of you - your attitude, your constraint, and your writing in this piece is insightful and beautifully expressed. I now understand why Emma did not want to do a cheerleading edition of the paper for the dedication, and why your voices (see Mari's piece) were more important.
Thank you! Actually, I thank all of you for being real!
gndavis
9/19/2007
♥ tonight:
200 words of Spanish.
Act V of Hamlet.
12 TOGay journal entries, all of which must be at least 2 pages long.
13 pages of biology reading / notes.
2 pages of the bio workbook.
40 pages of Stalin.
3 math worksheets, one of which I don't even have the notes for.
I hate everything.
Act V of Hamlet.
12 TOGay journal entries, all of which must be at least 2 pages long.
13 pages of biology reading / notes.
2 pages of the bio workbook.
40 pages of Stalin.
3 math worksheets, one of which I don't even have the notes for.
I hate everything.
9/19/2007
♥ less than three months til the big one-eight.
You know that annoying old saying, "Don't bite off more than you can chew"? When you're little, you don't really know what it means so you take it literally. Your mother says not to, which just encourages you to take bigger bites and chew more savagely. She tells you you look like a barbarian when you eat like that.
Then you get to elementary and middle school, and you start to realize what she's talking about. Suddenly you've got a lot more to keep track of, and it gets tougher every year.
And now, in my last year before adulthood, my parents have completely turned the tables on me. They expect me to be perfect all the time. Get straight As, work part-time, cover all your own expenses, apply to college NOW!, don't be depressed or we'll take you back to the expensive therapy you don't need, take your meds--of course you need them!, pay to use the car, this, that, and a million other things.
I don't have time for this. There aren't enough hours in the day. I'm expected to live like an adult without having the priveleges of adulthood.
Can I please just be a kid for one last year?
Then you get to elementary and middle school, and you start to realize what she's talking about. Suddenly you've got a lot more to keep track of, and it gets tougher every year.
And now, in my last year before adulthood, my parents have completely turned the tables on me. They expect me to be perfect all the time. Get straight As, work part-time, cover all your own expenses, apply to college NOW!, don't be depressed or we'll take you back to the expensive therapy you don't need, take your meds--of course you need them!, pay to use the car, this, that, and a million other things.
I don't have time for this. There aren't enough hours in the day. I'm expected to live like an adult without having the priveleges of adulthood.
Can I please just be a kid for one last year?
9/19/2007
18 September 2007
♥ a strange day.
Most people go their whole lives without ever knowing anyone who's murdered. It's kind of a weird concept, isn't it, to think about ending someone's life? To think that you could possibly have that kind of power to affect that many people is kind of mind-boggling.
Four years ago today, I woke up to the strangest day of my life. The sunrise was bright red, and I swear I felt like I knew something awful was going to happen.
I remember my eighth grade self looking out the window while I took a math test during the last period of the day, thinking how I missed summer and how the weather was really perfect. It was warm for September, and there was just a little breeze. The leaves turned early that year.
I got home that day and went upstairs, and I must have fallen asleep because my mother woke me up a couple of hours later, and she was crying. (This was before my mother was crazy.)
"Becky's dead," she kept saying, "Somebody killed Becky."
The nightmare kept going. Our friendly, outgoing, ever-positive neighbor was lying in the middle of a Rocky Flats dump site. She was gone.
Her ex-boyfriend had killed her because she didn't want to see him anymore (the secret family may have had something to do with it), and in a split second he took away a daughter, mother, sister, friend, aunt, and neighbor. Becky's life was looking up again, and it ended there, on that blood-red morning, in the foothills where she used to walk her dogs.
Of course he's in prison now, serving 32 years that he won't see the end of because he's got cancer. I guess sometimes what goes around comes around, because he will die in prison without a family or a friend in the world.
Sure, my mother is crazy, but what if someone had taken her away from me, from us, when I was eleven? What if I'd had to grow up without any mother at all? It wasn't just Becky's life that ended that morning: Morgan had to start over too.
Time heals all wounds, but it's been four years and this one still hasn't gone anywhere. Someone else lives in that house now, someone else's dogs wake up the whole neighborhood, someone else takes care of the neighbor's houses when they're gone. We're all doing what we can to pick up the slack, but the truth of the matter is, the place just isn't the same without her. I think my mother thought she and Becky would watch Morgan and me grow up together. I think she thought they'd still be walking the dogs when they were sixty. But at 41, Becky's dog-walking days were over.
It's not right, and it's not fair, and there's nothing we can do about it. But on the other hand, I'm glad we knew Becky. I'm glad Becky told me I looked good in pink because she knew I hated it. I'm glad she teased my mother about her obsession with our dumb dogs. I'm glad she made fun of her mother for being a republican. I'm glad she loved Meeker High football, and most of all, I'm glad she just rolled her eyes and laughed when we teased her back.
Wherever you are, Becky Darden, we're not going to forget you, not now or ever.
Four years ago today, I woke up to the strangest day of my life. The sunrise was bright red, and I swear I felt like I knew something awful was going to happen.
I remember my eighth grade self looking out the window while I took a math test during the last period of the day, thinking how I missed summer and how the weather was really perfect. It was warm for September, and there was just a little breeze. The leaves turned early that year.
I got home that day and went upstairs, and I must have fallen asleep because my mother woke me up a couple of hours later, and she was crying. (This was before my mother was crazy.)
"Becky's dead," she kept saying, "Somebody killed Becky."
The nightmare kept going. Our friendly, outgoing, ever-positive neighbor was lying in the middle of a Rocky Flats dump site. She was gone.
Her ex-boyfriend had killed her because she didn't want to see him anymore (the secret family may have had something to do with it), and in a split second he took away a daughter, mother, sister, friend, aunt, and neighbor. Becky's life was looking up again, and it ended there, on that blood-red morning, in the foothills where she used to walk her dogs.
Of course he's in prison now, serving 32 years that he won't see the end of because he's got cancer. I guess sometimes what goes around comes around, because he will die in prison without a family or a friend in the world.
Sure, my mother is crazy, but what if someone had taken her away from me, from us, when I was eleven? What if I'd had to grow up without any mother at all? It wasn't just Becky's life that ended that morning: Morgan had to start over too.
Time heals all wounds, but it's been four years and this one still hasn't gone anywhere. Someone else lives in that house now, someone else's dogs wake up the whole neighborhood, someone else takes care of the neighbor's houses when they're gone. We're all doing what we can to pick up the slack, but the truth of the matter is, the place just isn't the same without her. I think my mother thought she and Becky would watch Morgan and me grow up together. I think she thought they'd still be walking the dogs when they were sixty. But at 41, Becky's dog-walking days were over.
It's not right, and it's not fair, and there's nothing we can do about it. But on the other hand, I'm glad we knew Becky. I'm glad Becky told me I looked good in pink because she knew I hated it. I'm glad she teased my mother about her obsession with our dumb dogs. I'm glad she made fun of her mother for being a republican. I'm glad she loved Meeker High football, and most of all, I'm glad she just rolled her eyes and laughed when we teased her back.
Wherever you are, Becky Darden, we're not going to forget you, not now or ever.
9/18/2007
17 September 2007
♥ is this from her?
Because ever since she said that, I wonder all the time if my very existence is a mistake. I hope my mother didn't send this to PostSecret, because I don't want my life to be a lie.
9/17/2007
♥ it's time
to keep on keepin' on.
9/17/2007
♥ i'm not
crazy, no matter what you say.
You're the goddamn motherfucking crazy one and I'll never stop hating you. I wish this fucking restraining order did more than keep you from talking to me. I wish it kept me from thinking about you. I wish it kept me from thinking how you were my first love and how I can never have do-overs on any of those experiences with anyone else. I wish it let me block out all the horrible things you said to me. I wish it let me forget that you cheated on me. I wish it let me forget that I gave and gave until I had nothing left to give and then you turned around and betrayed me like no one ever could have. I wish it let me have my two best friends back. I wish I didn't have to hate you like this.
This is all your fault. It's all your fault and I'll never forgive you as long as I live because even when I'm happy, all it takes is the mention of your stupid name to ruin my day.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, and I hope you go away and never come back. I hope your life is ruined and I hope everyone figures out how horrible you are. Most of all, I hate you for making me question myself.
You're the goddamn motherfucking crazy one and I'll never stop hating you. I wish this fucking restraining order did more than keep you from talking to me. I wish it kept me from thinking about you. I wish it kept me from thinking how you were my first love and how I can never have do-overs on any of those experiences with anyone else. I wish it let me block out all the horrible things you said to me. I wish it let me forget that you cheated on me. I wish it let me forget that I gave and gave until I had nothing left to give and then you turned around and betrayed me like no one ever could have. I wish it let me have my two best friends back. I wish I didn't have to hate you like this.
This is all your fault. It's all your fault and I'll never forgive you as long as I live because even when I'm happy, all it takes is the mention of your stupid name to ruin my day.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, and I hope you go away and never come back. I hope your life is ruined and I hope everyone figures out how horrible you are. Most of all, I hate you for making me question myself.
9/17/2007
♥ new building, same old idiots.
Lakewood High was lucky enough to be the recipient of an entirely new building beginning with the 2007-08 school year. I have mixed feelings on this, but overall, it's nice to go to school somewhere that doesn't smell like ass. Unfortunately, the change in location doesn't change the fact that my school is full of retards.
I like to call this the petri dish of retards, since the atrium is basically a breeding ground for Lakewood's best and brightest (not). This particular sample includes several species of Retardus, most of which colonize together at the black spots commonly known as tables.
The specimen in the lower left-hand corner of this view are of the genus Retardus couplus. One couplus appears to be wearing a red shirt; it is sitting on its apparent significant other's lap. This particular species is extremely clingy and can often be seen reproducing. Unfortunately, Retardus couplus reproduction is not asexual.
In the approximate middle of our little petri dish we have the classic Retardus jockus. This species is basically useless except for about one week out of the school year: homecoming. The LHS colony is never very good, save for a short-lived winning streak a year or so ago. Oddly enough, this particular colony seems to have found itself quite the novelty: they have a book open on the table! Presumably, as most jocki are incapable of reading, this book was stolen from a Retardus nerdus or is the property of some unfortunate Retardus freshmanus, a particularly inept version of the nerdus genus.
Finally, the life forms that appear to be trees are actually cleverly designed trash receptacles. Though they are surrounded by actual trash cans (those large, plastic-lined gray containers), many Retardi insist on placing gum, moldy homework, and other garbage in the gigantic pots containing the trees. Behaviorists, along with LHS administration, is still working to discover the cause of this irritating habit.
Do you see why I spend as little time as possible in the atrium?
9/17/2007
16 September 2007
♥ it's nice when someone feels that way about you.
You are the last
beautiful girl
in the world
9/16/2007
♥ life is better when you're happy.
9/16/2007
13 September 2007
♥ in our bedroom after the war.
I didn't think it was possible, but the new Stars album is even better than any of the others.
9/13/2007
12 September 2007
♥ kanye v. 50: a battle of suck.
It seems to me that the two really couldn't be competing over anything else. 50-Cent has gross tattoos and bad teeth. He is only moderately talented. Kanye West, on the other hand, is an arrogant bastard. Nobody's going to be the next Dr. Dre. Why bother? In any case, I've laid out a comprehensive study guide for my readers closely following the feud:
Who's on first: Fitty's first hit was in 2003: the unbelieveably unmelodious, not to mention grammatically incorrect, In Da Club. West followed just a year later with the egocentric Jesus Walks. Both albums sucked royally, but 50 gets points for being first on the scene.
Who's more badass: 50's 15-year-old crack whore mother (no joke on this one) gave birth to him, in Queens, no less, out of wedlock. She is now dead. He earned is GED while in jail, presumably for drug charges. Shot nine times while leaving his grandmother's house. The biggest blight on West's essentially perfect childhood is his parents' divorce when he was three. He also had a car accident in 2002. Um... 50 gets this one too.
Who's a bigger asshole: 50 won't rap live. That's lame. West, on the other hand, made a complete moron of himself at the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards by basically throwing a tantrum because he didn't win. As lame as it is that 50 shares a major music trait with the notorious Ashlee Simpson, at least he's not a whiney baby.
There really can be no winners here.
Who's on first: Fitty's first hit was in 2003: the unbelieveably unmelodious, not to mention grammatically incorrect, In Da Club. West followed just a year later with the egocentric Jesus Walks. Both albums sucked royally, but 50 gets points for being first on the scene.
Who's more badass: 50's 15-year-old crack whore mother (no joke on this one) gave birth to him, in Queens, no less, out of wedlock. She is now dead. He earned is GED while in jail, presumably for drug charges. Shot nine times while leaving his grandmother's house. The biggest blight on West's essentially perfect childhood is his parents' divorce when he was three. He also had a car accident in 2002. Um... 50 gets this one too.
Who's a bigger asshole: 50 won't rap live. That's lame. West, on the other hand, made a complete moron of himself at the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards by basically throwing a tantrum because he didn't win. As lame as it is that 50 shares a major music trait with the notorious Ashlee Simpson, at least he's not a whiney baby.
There really can be no winners here.
9/12/2007
♥ 300th post.
Yay!
9/12/2007
♥ this week
is kicking my ass so far.
9/12/2007
10 September 2007
♥ there is a grave possibility
that I will spend so much time on all this worthless IB homework, I'll actually forget to apply to college.
9/10/2007
♥ thank you.
This week is going to be horrible, but there's one thing getting me through it: you. When I'm with you I don't feel stupid or scared or incompetent. I don't feel like anyone's judging me, I don't feel like there's a million things I have to get done, I don't feel like everyone's out to get me. When we're lying there are you're holding me and you kiss my forehead, I feel like maybe there's a chance everything will be just fine. So thank you.
9/10/2007
08 September 2007
♥ la la la
My boyfriend is nice.
9/08/2007
06 September 2007
♥ "bitches and hoes, emma walker. bitches and hoes."
I'm just gonna take a page out of Cera's book and let you know about a few types of people I don't like.
9/06/2007
♥ cute without the e.
I know you well enough to know you never loved me.
9/06/2007
♥ so... much... homework...
Tonight should have been horrible because I had so much homework it's not even funny. It took me three hours to do the biology, possibly due to the fact that we had almost thirty pages of reading and notes.
But tonight wasn't horrible at all. Tonight was lovely, wonderful, perfect. Tonight was what I've been waiting around for for the last six months or so. Tonight was exactly right.
This is all kind of new, but I have a pretty good feeling about it. How could you possibly have known how to be everything I wanted?
But tonight wasn't horrible at all. Tonight was lovely, wonderful, perfect. Tonight was what I've been waiting around for for the last six months or so. Tonight was exactly right.
This is all kind of new, but I have a pretty good feeling about it. How could you possibly have known how to be everything I wanted?
9/06/2007
♥ i guess you're not so tough after all.
Wait, so... You lose that one thing, and suddenly you've got nothing to say about yourself?
Question: Isn't that what you were so afraid of in the first place?
Question: Isn't that what you were so afraid of in the first place?
9/06/2007
05 September 2007
♥ oh me oh my.
I'm more than a little worried about my senior pictures tomorrow.
9/05/2007
♥ wisdom for the day.
I, too, smite and delight in retards and their delivery of poorly rehearsed speeches. Oh, and:
"Not being pregnant is better than being pregnant."
How very right you are, Miss Sheldon.
9/05/2007
04 September 2007
♥ whoops!
Payback's kind of a bitch, isn't it, ladies? I hope next time you'll think twice before talking shit about someone you don't even know.
Fuck you.
Fuck you.
9/04/2007
♥ yes, please.
9/04/2007
♥ you know what pisses me off?
Work, is what. And the fact that they screwed me over AGAIN. What is this madness?!
9/04/2007
03 September 2007
♥ an embarassingly small step towards normal.
It feels a little weird to have a MySpace again... I mean, it is a little mainstream. But on the other hand, it's nice to keep in touch with everyone again. I missed it, I have to admit.
At least this time I don't care nearly so much what a certain ex of mine is up to.
At least this time I don't care nearly so much what a certain ex of mine is up to.
9/03/2007
♥ lovestoned, part II.
Lying there with you for all those hours was the happiest I've felt in a long, long time.
9/03/2007
♥ lovestoned.
Those flashing lights
come from everywhere
The way they hit her
I just stop and stare
She's got me
lovestoned
Man I swear
she's bad
and she knows
[I think that she knows]
9/03/2007
02 September 2007
♥ halloween, anyone?
God... That movie was fucked up.
9/02/2007
01 September 2007
♥ a small victory.
I'm trying not to care, but it does feel good to know that things in your life aren't going too smoothly either. I guess someone else finally noticed what I've been trying to tell you all along.
9/01/2007
♥ ow.
Strep throat sucks.
9/01/2007
