I cut my hair off in a final attack at myself. Too bad I like the way it came out.
I'm excited about this weekend and if I don't party my ass of I am going to be greatly disappointed. You know, considering and all. I'm going to go see Steve's concert recital tonight and I'll probably record it and post it on the nets without his permission. You know, because that's the way I roll.
Become an exciting person. Upload a song you want to share and leave me a link to dl it with.
I want to make love to every person I know currently. I am unhappy about the current state of my bedroom. There's still a mother fucking turn signal sitting on my storage shelves. I hate when people leave their mess, stuff, shit in my room. If you move my stuff, fucker, I'll kill you. I want to drop out of college. College is super faggy. My guts are falling out of me. I haven't updated my ipod for a very long time; there's a lot of music I've come into possession of since then. I really want to sleep in my bed but some poop-head moved all of my clothes (VERY CARELESSLY!) from my desk chair to my bed. I'll just fucking sleep onto of it. I don't like people. If anyone else tells me that my hair cut makes me look younger I will take the time to find a way to send fecal matter through the postal system. I am happy Matty Fatty Plats is gone. I won't get tag team hit on anymore. I hate fat people. I fucking love Steve.
Anyone that wants to buy a gigantic record collection should drop me a line. I don't want this shit.
I have found a new past time. I've been very taken by kneeling on my bed and watching the wildlife that likes to eat the 99-cent bird seed that exploded all over the yard. There is a multitude of Rabbits, Squirrels, Morning doves, Sparrows, and my father's Cardinal even tends to make the occasional appearance. ( Read more... ) I'm sure I could make some effort to update about what has been going on here lately, but I'd rather not. Everything is just how it always is.
I love this. And shoes. School is school, and I've got no real reason to update other than I just sat and played the sims 2 for a good 4 hours. I do believe I'll be starting again in a moment.
This is a tomato. Not a tomatoe, not a tamateo, not a tamatoe, or any other way all of you idiots feel the need to spell it. There is no E at the end. The only time there is an E at the end is when the word becomes plural. PLURAL.
I had a moment today where I felt exceptionally cool. That moment, however, has passed. Buffalo Grove High School is almost a memory and despite the excitement I'm glad another was added to the pot today. Our prom dramatization was impressive. It just went to show you how little goes on in the suburbs. There were a good 15 law enforcement vehicles there. The best part was that they had a coast guard helichopper fly in. I won't lie to you; it was impressive.
I've been suffering from a small pang of guilt in my stomach. It only comes around when I think about anything creative. You know, making music, movies, art, dancing. I do plan on ignoring it and continuing with my plans for financial security later in life, the only problem is I found a gift certificate I won to Dick Blick. I think I'll use that to buy some robin egg blue tempera paint, go to target buy a cheep thong and solid cup bra, then paint myself and stand around in the sun. The options are endless.
Last night was really comforting. There's nothing better than curling up with someone you love and talking about nothing until you both fall asleep. Tonight was pretty cool as well. The guitar does have a beautiful voice when strangled correctly. I think I might miss having a female comrade. Don't be fooled. I'm very happy currently. Just overwhelmed and sleep deprived.
Because I get a serious case of the happy throat when I think about both dismemberment and the mafia I decided that I am going to a mob piece. It's exciting, I know. I'm only discouraged because I'll have to cram it into a small amout of space. Or I could take the logical approach and just write about a single moment. Which is probably what I'll do. But whatever, I'm excited about working on this now and because of that excitement I feel the need to inform all of you about it.
I am positive that I have never been so shaken by a single night of dreams as I am right now. I woke up cold and freaked out and that miserable feeling just won't leave me. I feel like a giant lump of ass.
I want to go home, take something for my headache, and just freak the fuck out until I calm myself down. Uncool.
In other news this was the shittiest weekend known to man; but I must say things are slowly looking up.
I missed out on the closing ceremonies of the Olympics for serving coffee at $7 an hour. California seems like a dream and I want to write but can't bring myself to form anything. John and Yoko make me smile. I suppose it's because of the love that everyone spit on. It was theirs, wasn't it? Or maybe it's just an idea I like to entertain. Just a boy and a little girl, trying to change the whole wide world.
I'm ready to drown myself in tulips and daffodils and drive until the tires on my car are bald. I'm ready to go south and bathe in the sun. I feel good. I'm full of lasagna and stollen tea.
my father is in the living room playing tetris with one hand and swearing really loudly everytime his block doesn't go where he wants it to go. i really wish i could call steve and giggle to him about this, because jesus christ, it's fucking classic.
Someone should shave their head, eyebrows, body hair and then pull out all of their eyelashes soon. Because if someone else doesn't, I think I might just have to do it and then cover myself in flour.
FLOUR!
Finally hanging out with school friends again. Be proud. And talking to Jossie.
PS Jossasaurusrex can we aim for Saturday in the PM's? Cool.
I could, potentially, shower before work so I wasn't all photo chemically selling. But, why the fuck would I do that?
The schedule for today and tomorrow.
Tonight: 5-11ish work 11ish-1ish do my final for psych 1ish-6:45am sleep
Tomorrow: 7:30 go to school early, take missed soc test 8:20-3ish do a make-up run, run in gym, finish photo final 6:30-11ish work 11ish-whenever steve and I get together: sleep
Who's stressing out? I'm honestly not. Well, other than over my psych final, but how hard could writing about my own memories be? I'm going to go with not very. And now, I am going to nap until 4:30ish.
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lennondrop's journal
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