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[26 Sep 2005|01:36am] |
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There is no way I can ever, ever, express how truly sorry I am, or how I really feel, or what I really think. Because in all honesty, I don't know. But I'm afraid that this really will be it, and I don't want it to be. That's not fair. But it's how I feel. I am immature, vice-ridden, increadibly silly and unable to cope with reality sometimes. And right now, reality is kicking my ass. I don't even know if you'll read this. Or the longer, more drawn out explanation. I didn't write that for you, but this...this is. I can't let it go, and I can't stop wondering, or hating myself, or doing the very things I hate myself for. I just hope that, someday, you'll understand, forgive me, and that we can move past who I am now. I hope that, by then, I'll be a better person. A person who really deserves you.
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| I have a cold |
[23 Sep 2005|10:58am] |
Yep. That's like, the icing on the cake. I stop fearing for my life and I get a horrible head...blargh thing. I don't know what it is, or how I got it. Just that my ears and throat and nose hate me, I have a headache, and it's hard to talk. So I'm typing. Wheee!
I wish I had heard from...a someone. I bet you know who that someone is, Hunter. You know how I feel now.
The power may go out around three or so. So don't expect many updates or whatever after that. I'll try and call--leave your number. I love you guys, and I'll see you soon. That's a rule.
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| nevermind |
[22 Sep 2005|02:29pm] |
Not leaving. Again. This wishy-washy-ambivalent bullshit is getting on my nerves. WAY TO GO. Let's just stay here, on the sandbar, and wait for the building to get knocked over or obliterated or, maybe, just maybe, wait for Rita to hit LA (just like Katrina) and breathe a sigh of relief that the eye didn't hit Galveston dead on, that we got the "good side", that our town is still here and that everyone is still alive, for the most part. All I know is that I cried because all I can see and smell and taste is danger, and I was so happy to finally get out. This feels like a trap. It feels like we're killing ourselves, staying here. And someone who is supposed to care about my safety doesn't really seem to. Optimism will get us no-where.
I'd rather live than have a car.
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| fucking stupid |
[22 Sep 2005|03:41am] |
She's upset now. Her life is falling apart. Her life. She's so sorry for me. Doesn't want anything to happen to me. If that was a fact we would have been prepared and gone yesterday. But she wanted to delay. Wanted to be in denial. Galveston might not be destroyed, but it's going to suck. Why can't she be a mother? Why does she have to break up at the most inopportune moments? It's really, really annoying. I sort of want to scream. A lot. At her. And everything else. Everyone else. This isn't fair.
I hope Sheila calls me back soon-ish. Or answer's her phone next time I call.
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| sea trout and bass |
[21 Sep 2005|05:29pm] |
Mom is talking about fishing off the balcony in the event that we run out of food before the floodwaters subside. For one, I don't think that the flooding where I am will be that bad. The Seawall was built to withstand the surge of a catagory four, and the 1900 storm was a good sized four. It's seventeen feet high around sixtyfirst street. The Strand area, the Northern part of the Island, and the West End are...fucked. Basically. The wind and rain are what I'm worried about the most. And high tide. And power outages. And crazy hoboes. It's good that Mommy bought an axe (she says it's for the wood that goes in our grill, but I see so many other advantages). I'm trying to look at this in perspective. There is really nothing I can do right now. I don't want to be here. But...I'll deal. I just hope the high pressure system currently over the Galveston area does not receed before Rita hits. If it stays put, it will stear her probably west south west. If that pressure system does move and the high pressure system to the east moves in, then Rita will begin to turn north. That ain't cool, yo.
The cell hates me. It's hard as fuck to receive calls, or make calls, even to the voicemail (there are about five missed calls). The phone doesn't even ring. It. Is. Odd. What's worse is our battery operated radio suffered horrible corosion because I left the batteries in it for about a year. So we have to use one of those random Garnier Fructis portable radios (the kind that have reset and scan buttons, then a little volume knob)when the power goes out and we can no longer watch the news. So Mom and I will have to take turns listening.
I'm still scared. I'm no longer freaking out. I think I'm going to move my dresser in front of my window. That sounds like a pretty good idea, actually, in case the tree decides to come visit me in my sleep. Honestly, once the winds start to blow, I don't think I'll be sleeping.
I love you Sheila. You are absolutely wonderful. I'm so glad the cell stopped being gimp long enough for me to talk to you.
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| things change |
[21 Sep 2005|08:24am] |
I will not being going to Austin if this storm gets bad. I will be battening down the hatches with Mom because she is stubborn and can be very retarded sometimes.
If the aparment is demolished and I am nowhere to be found or dead, my journals and manuscripts are in a rubbermaid toat somewhere in my room. Please look for it. And if you find it...just read or something. If you're mentioned, you're probably somewhat important to me. Hunter, Darcie, Alex, Stephanie and Kyle have joint custody of the most recent ones. Unless you want to make a biography (which could be awesome for you, since the whole "death in hurricane because she had no other choice" thing is a pretty awesome hook) then you (being Darcie or Hunter) can keep them.
I love you guys. Stay safe. Okay, that's silly. I know everyone I care about is out of harm's way, and that's what matters right now. So...I hope ya'll's stuff stays safe and that we all have our homes when this thing is done.
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| lack of postage |
[20 Sep 2005|05:05pm] |
People, for the love of everything, stop fucking freaking out. She just got in the Gulf. Get over it. I am not trying to be insensitive, I am being sensible. If Rita hits us directly, that will suck, but it's also probable that it will go further south. So...chill? Honestly, would we be making so big a deal out of this if Katrina hadn't annihilated New Orleans &...all those other places that aren't on the news because they don't possess the awesomeness that are the Garden District and Bourbon Street? Probably not. Alicia was a catagory four and that hit in '83. The Island and most of the buildings survived. So at 127 mph gusts, I'm pretty confident that if Mom and I stay, we won't die. I'm also pretty confident that at a medium four to a five, anyone left will hate the fact that they didn't get the fuck off this sandbar. I'm just looking at this in perspective.
So yes, I will be going to Austin if this storm is bad. Call the cell at 3546895 if you wanna get in touch with me and I'm not here. Please call and leave your number or whatever (for people like Mac and Jayne and Sarah) so I can get in touch with you--since those people are going to Austin too (along with SR, squee!) and we can have like, I dunno, a party?
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| no, my internet did not die |
[15 Sep 2005|06:37pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
not especially terrible |
] |
Nor did I. In all honestly, I fucking hate LJ. And DJ. And GJ. And myspace. I think I hate the net in general. I had to get online to do an assignment for Aquatic Science and I just felt so angry that I had to sit here on the computer.
I'm being kicked out of my house saturday night so that some random ass motherfucker from L.A. can stay here because, I dunno, he maybe needs a place to stay? Mom doesn't really know him. I don't know him. I don't trust the SOB and I will more than happily threaten his testicles is her touches, fucks up or jacks any of the shit in this house. So yeah. I need somewhere to stay. Somewhere that I can, prefferably, be on roxioxy, since Kyle maybesortamighthopefully give me one.
I honestly hoped that something would change. And it didn't. So fuck that shit. Fuck it up the ass. With a broken 40oz. Ohhhh, bet ya didn't see that one coming.
Fucker.
Anyway.
I have to baby sit this kid. Ummm...till like eleven. And I'm like, what the fuck? Has my mother forgotten the whole shower/read/chill/it-takes-me-an-hour-to-fall-asleep thing? Does she want me to be brain dead tomorrow? Obviously.
I just want to be irate right now. So I'll stop. And get ready to leave.
I have a 19.1 in Algebra II. Who wants to tutor me? Or just leak their mathmatical knowledge into my brain? Or do my homework for me so that I can actually make good grades? Call me and let me know.
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| The Bus Barn needs more funding |
[25 Aug 2005|05:24pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
not a good mood... |
] |
Seriously. I got home at four o' five because the bus had to go to Tiki Island to drop off those dipshit brats from Parker. I was sooo pissed off. And my headphone broke. Then we had to stop by Weis to pick up more dipshit brats. I was not in a good mood at all. I loathe children. Lots. Eileen, will you drive me home everyday? You don't have to drop me off at my apartment, you can sort of stop outside and I can walk the rest of the way. And I'll tip when possible. Pleeeeeease?
I left my 1-5 binder in my Aquatic Science class. Meaning I don't have the first assignment that I got in Economics, or the homework for Algebra II. Luckily, I remember my ideas for the paper due tomorrow. Oh, and while I was writing said paper, Word decided to close itself out. Four times. That was the most annoying load of crap since...the bus ride. Today just doesn't like me. Yesterday really didn't either. Oh, I had sorta fun. Then it kind of exploded. I'm telling myself that I don't care. I am a big fat liar.
So. I'm going to Hunter's tomorrow. Possibly spending the night. More than likely doing drugs and getting stoned. It's a weekend, do not get angry at me. I will tell you to shove it. Sorry. I probably love you. But I am the most cautious person ever. I won't OD and die. By my vehment hate of "hardcore" (i.e. stupid) drugs, you should understand that.
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[22 Aug 2005|06:40pm] |
The CW teacher is not Ridgeway. It is Puente. Darcie and I pronounce it "Pweent" and there ain't nothin' he can do about it. We will soon train him into a decent sort-of Riddle.
My Chemistry teacher is dumb. Nuff said.
I have Mrs. Willey for Algebra II. For some reason that makes me happy. Tabitha is in my French class again and I enthralled her with details of my escapades. Didn't even think about the alphabet. Yay. Aquatic Sciences is going to be fucking awesome. Especially since Rachel Weaver (the big one that I hear really bad stuff about, but can't help but admire anyway) is in that class. I get to try and maintain a salt water aquarium. And keep the fish alive. Yay. Kalle is in two of my classes, as is Neal. I was hoping Josh would be in my English class or something. Him and Logan and Caley. Oh well. I saw Caley in the hall. I need to call her or something. Um. I keep forgetting the classes that I have, the order and the content. Too much for one day. My brain is going to explode. Oh! Yes. Economics. AP Economics. I think there's only one AP class for that subject and that everyone who took AP US History last year who isn't taking Government for the first semester is crammed into that class. Forty five kids. About thirty desks. Eileen's in there with me. As is Ben DiMarco and a few other people I remember from Marin's class. I feel sad. No one I know has Mr. Martin this year. He is the best fuckin' teacher ever. Well, for History at least. When I'm motivated to try and learn while messed up on morphine, ya know that he keeps one interested.
Overall, the day sucked. I'm trying to be really positive. I have a feeling I'm going to be skipping a lot of school to get messed up or eat taco bell. Something. Anything. Arrgh.
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| the sched' |
[21 Aug 2005|09:00am] |
o1. Creative Writing Rideway
o2. AP Economics Key
o3. Algebra 2 Willey
o4. Chemistry Harris
o5. Aquatic Science McCarthy
o6. French 2 Maveety
o7. AP English 4 Lafleur
For my first three periods I am on the second floor. The next two I'm on the third. The next one I'm on the first. Then the second again. And these fucktards expect us to make it to class on time and to have the energy or lack of apathy to complete our classwork, do our homework and look forward to another day of said hell. I am ever so slightly irate. Fucking highschool. I blame it on Bush.
Yes, that was a joke. Sort of. I blame it on stupid people who are in official positions whether or not they qualify, simply because they come from an up and up family and just sort of slide their way into said office. Kinda like Bush. More like our superintendent. What the fuck does she thinks she's doing?! Arrgh. Just....arrrrrgh.
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[19 Aug 2005|02:16pm] |
I believe that I am in a much better mood. Hunter and I have creative writing first period--woot! I wonder who else does.
I'm glad talking resolves a lot of things that, had I not said them, would explode eventually. Trials and trauma and pain and drama. I'm not up for that anymore. I'm becomming accustomed to being loved and loving purely, and I'm starting to accept myself and encourage others to accept me as well. At least gently, at first. It will take some people some getting used to. But it's better, because I remember myself back then and I want to be understanding. The bit of selfishness is that, yes, because the urge has roots in who I am as a person. I can surpress it, but sometimes mistakes happen.
I love understanding. I love him. Love love love. Even though my stomach is trying to kill me, I love everything. Life. Yeah.
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| running after the rain |
[18 Aug 2005|09:01am] |
I can't say anything to make stuff better because, honestly, I don't know what it's like. And what I have to say will be seen as harsh and cruel. So I'm silent. Look at me, silent.
I don't feel like talking to creepy old people on MSN. I don't feel like being tired. All I really want to do is buy some cor and trip out at Alex's party tomorrow. Highlight of the week. Last big thing before school starts. Yay.
I wish the people I respect and care about would trust me to use common sense and take care of myself. I am not some druggie fiend. I am not going to shoot up on a thousand mgs of heroin, snort five lines of coke, and thus OD and die. I know better than that. I respect the limits of my body and my mind. I will experiment. I won't let a substance control me. I do not have the kind of personality that becomes reliant on a thing. People, but no things. I will never be a drug addict or an alcoholic. I will use substances recreationally, not every day so that I can function. I will take care of myself. I will be around people who will know what to do should something go wrong. I will listen to the advice of others who are more experienced or more educated about a certain thing. Telling me not to do it because of what it is or because you don't agree with it won't influence me in the least. Give me a concrete reason why (not something about addiction--I've established this already) such-and-such is bad for me. I will ask around. If I get more cons than pros, I won't do it. Why? Because I respect majority opinion. I'm not going to listen to someone who has never done it, or anything like it, or someone who is just against it because it's a drug. It's not me being biased, it's me wanting to be well informed and having a natural curiosity. My curiosity is not so strong that I will go out and kill myself. So rest assured; I am not a hardcore drug fiend. I am responsible. I am capable of taking care of myself, more or less, or I will be with others who can take care of me. Give me some credit. Treat me like I am an intelligent individual and not like I'm a child. I'll be in a better mood and I will in turn respect you more.
That's about all I have to rant about right now.
I have to register today. Fucktarded school and it's...retardedness.
I really hate myspace.
I cleaned my bathroom for no real reason other than I wanted to. Once Sheila leaves, I'll vaccuum my room again. I'm going to unload the dishwasher in a minute.
I'm sort of looking forward to the move, and sort of not. I don't expect much help from my friends--which is why I'm not going to ask. Getting the table out is going to be a bitch. I'll be closer to Hunter--further from Peter. I might work at the movie theatre of Randalls doesn't contact me soon. At least the new apartment is big, and my room is big, and the layout is similar to the current one. Sorta. Basically.
Done.
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ganked from  crono546 |
[17 Aug 2005|07:08am] |
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( blarghCollapse )</strong>
We were sick. Keyword being "were". At least I think. </span>
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| as if it wasn't obvious enough... |
[15 Aug 2005|07:39am] |
HELL LEVEL 3
Raw score: 95% |
There's a special place in Hell for you: the basement penthouse. You scored the nastiest possible on the Sexual Hell Test. You have no sexual restraint whatsoever. You'll take pleasure however you can get it, and my guess is you get it a lot. If for some reason you don't right now, you will soon, as people in your category only tend to spiral down ever deeper into the abyss of carnality and delicious sin. Congratulations.
I, personally, think that this category is the best. Paradoxically enough, sexual liberation and indulgence can only bring you closer to purity and honesty.
AVOID: all but level 3 hellions like yourself. You wouldn't want to ruin anyone, now would you? |
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My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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You scored higher than 97% on hellish |
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| slightly better than last night |
[15 Aug 2005|06:31am] |
While everyone else was off having...whatever (I am trying to not be bitter) I slept. And then mom and I went for a drive. And then I slept some more. For the whole night. I had a dream that Mom and I were moving into an apartment/hut way out on the west end, and that I talked to a deer. And that Mom was bitchier than she is now. Scary.
Anyway. She understands why I couldn't come home saturday night and I don't think I'm grounded. She just wished I could have called her. I think it would be obvious why I wouldn't come home--the driver decided to drink. And I'm not one to begrudge anyone's fun. So I was like "whatever, it's your party". And I was entertained by the game.
Peter's coming home! I am so effing happy! I can't wait to see him! Omg!!!!!!!!
So I slept the whole night through and woke up around five thirty. Watched some telly, took the dog out, watched more telly ate toast and drank Dr Pepper. Wished people would call me to let me know what was going on. Or say hi to me when they stop by to get their shoes. Yeah, I'm not angry. I'm sad. I feel left out. I feel...I dunno. A lot. Whateva'. I'm good though. I'll enjoy today. And coffee. Must have coffee.
Lurrrrrves you guys.
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[14 Aug 2005|09:18pm] |
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I got ditched. Yay.
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| jkhannkfenaionfcnoncodnqochfo;nqeo;vno;wenvo;e |
[13 Aug 2005|10:18am] |
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My mother should not be allowed to drink and stay up till three a.m. She's far too prone to being bitchy in the morning. And I'm in no condition to be around her.
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[12 Aug 2005|07:53pm] |
The Keys to Your Heart
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You are attracted to those who have a split personality - cold as ice on the outside but hot as fire in the heart. |
In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored. |
You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. |
You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance. |
Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. |
Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. |
You think of marriage something you've always wanted... though you haven't really thought about it. |
In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily. |
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| HEY |
[10 Aug 2005|06:45am] |
Does anyone know when Peter is gonna be back??
Blah, blah, blah. Insomnia. I'm having revelations about myself. None of which anyone really wants to read. So I'll stick to the simple stuff. Like nine word questions. Nine words, thirtyseven letters, eight spaces, two punctuation marks to emphasise importance.
I am not the same. I had...revelations. Ahdur. I already said that. I didn't sleep tonight. I'm not sleeping today. I am probably going to watch VH1. I really do love Greenday. Even if the frontman has messed up teeth, and if Boulevard of Broken Dreams sucked ass. So anyway. Yep. That's about it.
Anything to keep my sanity. But I'm in love with life and my hair. That's about all that really matters, anyway.
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| to everyone |
[09 Aug 2005|08:20pm] |
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You'll know who you are if you call and ask. But anyway, to everyone who is not not-everyone: Thank you for being sane, non-dramatic, not a cop, not a dipshit, not a liar, not a paranoid fuck, and not a fucking crazy person. Oh, and thank you for not being Ball High.
Five days of mostly chaos. And today I just slept. Slept, because I needed it. The World hates. But at least It chooses to hate when we're together.
I don't feel sociable, but if you would like to call and hear everything I have to talk about, then please do. I could probably use some entertainment. Life isn't about snoozing, ya know.
P.S. FUCK! I missed the thunderstorm!
-Abbybabby, sincerely missing Sheila, wishing Jesse the best of luck, hoping for the best for everyone, and happily hanging on to her sanity-
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| pictures |
[04 Aug 2005|05:10pm] |
( fan serviceCollapse )
I have made a decision. Everywhere I go, I'm taking my camera. Too many adventures to miss.
Love ya, kids.
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[03 Aug 2005|05:10pm] |
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I am so fucking tired of being fucking broke. I am so fucking tired of just...things in general.
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[01 Aug 2005|04:54pm] |
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I got this today. Eleven sprial steel bones, laces the waist down to twenty eight inches and opens as much as thirty two inches. I am very, very happy. I need a job, so I can get a credit card, so I can buy those hundred and thirty dollar leather corsets with the serious boning. Not that the one I got isn't serious--steel, not plastic, and it's for waist training. I just like heavy duty things that look less frilly. But this is pretty. I guess pretty isn't bad.
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| angerfied? |
[31 Jul 2005|03:20pm] |
It's really sad that my friends here talk to Jeremy in Virginia more than they talk to me. Or my friends that I can hang out with more often because they have cars, excepting Crystal.
I'm not in a good mood. I feel very unpretty. I feel like curling up in a ball and hybernating for...forever. Because that's about as much as I'm good for.
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[29 Jul 2005|07:30pm] |
"I was talking to pedro today about his girlfriend and Kyle was making fun of how he'd slap his bitch if she hit on other girls I think it made peter feel bad..." --Ellen's myspace blog
WHAT THE FUCK?
Okay, aside from being pissed...this Kyle's actually a girl? Interesting...
My good mood went from
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________here
to____________here
For the complete fucktards among you, that's bad.
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| feelin' better |
[28 Jul 2005|02:04am] |
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I've got salad. As silly as that sounds, it's a bright spot this evening. I'm re-reading the Garth Nix books because I haven't bought Beowulf yet. Apparently, we need a special translation. That strikes me as exceedingly lame.
Yay for trolls. Yay for trolls who make me feel better because their grammar is horrid and mine is superb. When I'm thinking coherently, or at least feel like completing sentences properly. Which, I am proud to say I do often. At least I have the ability.
So anyway. I have this extreme urge to call Sheila. It's two a.m. My point is proven.
I did nothing today, and despite my desire to do nothing...it's more fun when there are tons of people with me doing nothing. At...not-my-house. Alone nothing ain't great.
Mom and are are probably going to sell what used to be Justin's rug. I hate that fucking rug. Go us.
Sadistic Pleasures haven't updated their show pictures. I'm on pins and needles to see...myself. Because I was honored. And it made me feel special ::dopey smile:: I had tons of fun. Too bad the end of the movie makes me really sad.
I want to call Sterling too. It's...odd. A lot of odd. I was supposed to call him a while ago. I hate it when I do that. But I do it a lot. At least I do it a lot with almost everyone; see, he's not that special. But I don't understand why I have this sudden urge to gab at such a godsawful hour. Oh well. I'll get over it.
I want salad.
( awesome intellectual-ness under the cutCollapse )
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[27 Jul 2005|03:15am] |
You're Brigitte Bardot!
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[26 Jul 2005|12:14am] |
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I hate people. Stuff seems to get worse and worse. I'm sick of it. I'd try killing myself if I wasn't convinced that mom would take me to the emergency room and wrack up bills she doesn't have money to pay just to keep my worthless ass alive.
I went to Rocky Horror saturday night with Jeremy, Joe, Alex and Dawwcie. I had fun. Jeremy looked gay. I looked damn sexy. Darcie and Alex looked better. I'll upload the pictures. Alex got to devirginize me. Then I was called up on stage. I bit a pickle in half. Sadistic Pleasures indeed. Then I was chosen to play the role of Betty. And I threw the bouquet about three feet off.
I was going to make a crack about my extreme failure rate, but I won't. I'm bitter and moody and it'll probably be better tomorrow.
I have a vibrator.
I can't wait for the pictures the crew took to be uploaded onto the website. And the pictures Jeremy took to be scanned and sent to me.
It's odd. I hated having the two of them here, and I loved it. I saw more of my friends. Of course Peter called me once during that week and didn't hang out with me until they left after the day we went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I'm hurt and confused about that. I don't like feeling like I don't matter. And generally he doesn't help. But mostly it's my fault.
I'm just a drag. I think I want to drown. But then again, I've already said why I won't do it. Cremation isn't that expensive; hospital bills are.
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| my house has been invaded |
[18 Jul 2005|02:57pm] |
By everyone. And I suddenly know what Hunter and Darcie feel like. But it's cool...because I love people. I just like having access to my bed when I want to lay down on it. And to be able to sleep without worrying if Mommy will discover the boy-who's-not-supposed-to-be-there. But it's all good. Mommy has faith in me. So does a certain other someone who I love very, very much.
Muahs.
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| whatever |
[15 Jul 2005|01:18am] |
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I was making a D&D character, partially out of boredom and partially out of fascination. But you know what? Never. Fucking. Mind.
I hate being shoved off.
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| psh |
[13 Jul 2005|04:14pm] |
( bitching. read at your own riskCollapse )
So. I saw these awesome seven inch stiletto stripper sandals. I don't know whether or not I should invest. One of the reasons being that I'm not sure how UK sizes relate to US sizes, and I'm likely to break my leg walking in them. Any suggestions?
I had extreme amounts of fun last night. Even though Peter and I got jewed out of a ride and had to inconvenience Rose. I felt really bad about that. Just...bad. And since I seem to be viewed as inconsiderate, that must shock some of you.
Why is my T.V. on the E! True Hollywood Story of Kathy Lee Gifford? Meh.
I would love to say I love you all, but I'm not sure if I do. It's cool, though. I'm not the uberselfrighteous bitch I "usually" am today.
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| she'll do murder |
[12 Jul 2005|12:46am] |
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I am in one of those bad moods that isn't going away any time soon. Why is it, when I want to strangle one person, I verbally rape everyone else?
I'm sorry to most of you for how pissy I am tonight. Most of you.
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| never was on time; yes, I once was mine |
[10 Jul 2005|07:43pm] |
You know...I don't know. I'm so abivalent and pissed off. I don't even know why.
Stuff. Stuff. Stuff. Sometimes people should shut up and let the person who should be talking actually talk.
For some reason online quizes really piss me off. I was going to take one and I discovered that I really and truly dispise them.
Why are some people so wishy-washy when it comes to holding true to their convictions?
People should help me level on Stonemaul.
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| the keyboard brokeded |
[08 Jul 2005|07:44pm] |
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Yep. Shitty Dell keyboard and its keyboard specific software. Basically, we need to wait five days until we can get the new one from the company, then try and see if we can use that. If it doesn't work, there's a problem with the software and it needs to be uninstalled/reinstalled. Which we can't do. Wanna know why we can't do that without a keyboard? Because of the passwords to get onto mother's administrative account. We have to uninstall and reinstall all software (for like, operating the compuer) through that. Does this seem a tad fucked up to anyone other than myself?
I don't understand why a gimp like Cody has such a nice house. Upper middle class people are supposed to leak a sense of superiority, of the things they can buy. Cody leaks stoner-ness. I guess that counts. Except the stereotype for stoners is poor and dirty--being that they spend all of their money on drugs. That is not going to be me.
So I can't play WoW. I can't update my account. I can't get on myspace. I can't see what the fuck is going on with the people who want to visit me. I can't tell them of the limits and boundaries before they get here. I HAVE LOST MY PRINCIPLE MODE OF COMMUNICATION AND ENTERTAINMENT!!!!
Where am I now? At the Turley's with Rose. With their shitty dogs. I have never wished ill on a dog before. I do now. Motherfuckers.
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| nothing like looking at the rotten wooden pylons holding up the pier with the BUILDING on top of it |
[05 Jul 2005|03:01pm] |
The Balinese room is very scary. At least when you're out on the deck.
Peter, Mom and I went there yesterday to see a blues concert and watch the fireworks. The boombooms were better in Virginia. No, that is not my bias. Don't even start. In VB, there were tons of boats moored offshore up and down the coast, and fireworks were shot off those. No matter where you were on the beach, you could see them. And you could see them from the hotels too, since the hotels were all built along the board walk. There was the Haunted Mansion, too, and Pyramids Bizzare, and Jesters where you could buy bondage gear, books on magic, hentai, piercings, bongs, finger armor, weapons (swords, knives, etc.), black light posters and of course black lights. Thet probably had other stuff I didn't see. Oh well. Point is: I miss home. I miss seeing the fireworks from the beach and running around the strip with the people I love. I miss not being stagnant. What is it about Galveston that makes everything so fucking hopeless? I want to go home. I don't know what I'd do. But I'd do something. Live somewhere. Succeed. Because if I don't succeed then I'm just nothing.
I guess the fourth makes me nostalgic. And not for the whole guy-I-dated thing. No. I'm nostalgic because I remember my home, the hotdogs, the places I love to frequent. And Nick's family. They more than made up for him. But it takes more than an awesome family to make an indecisive sixteen year old commit to anything.
Why am I ranting about that? Anyway.
My nose is still red and my forehead is still pink. It was peeling hardcore the other day. Horrible. I look like fucking rudolf. Only cuter. And I have boobs. Yesterday I looked like I a hoe. It was awesome. There's a construction (or destruction) company called "Cherry Demolition". You can't tell me that that isn't funny.
Apparently, people want Peter and I to make a porn. :X
Um. I think that's it. I love you guys.
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| for some reason |
[03 Jul 2005|11:18pm] |
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Everything is annoying me. And I do mean everything.
It's horrible when one's mother is more childish than one's self. But whatever. If she breaks something, it's her fault.
I think I hate everything. Yes. Yes I do. Right now at least. I need...stuff.
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