lonely

i’m sitting here. i just ate lunch. i’m listening to the nightmare before christmas soundtrack and feeling lonelier than ever. i’m picking at the leftovers of a caramel cake. my stomach feels stretched because i ate a full meal for once. i’m never in the mood to eat anymore it seems. unless someone takes me someplace good. i eat less and less when i’m by myself – i simply forget to. so after my grand lunch of leftover pasta, i am feeling almost a little more connected and satisfied. almost.

i just realized this cake’s topping looks like phlegm and it’s in the trash now.

tonight is ggp’s first big show at the house of blues in orlando. i want to go, but i’m so incredibly exhausted at the same time. i’ll see what i can do. i would like to be there, really i would. i know i loved everyone who came out to see us last friday. the ones with the right intentions. speaking of last friday, caleigh gave us the pictures her mother took for us. they were all right, but the damn mirror in ground zero reflects every flash camera. oh well. i’ll post them later.

to cheer myself up, i tried on a couple hats and took dumb pictures.

rob zombie-ish
i look like a rob zombie wanna be. oh, but i am. didn’t you know?

devotchka

oh charles! look at me, i’m a little devotchka. senseless fake russian words. damn that book. when it arrived in the mail, i tore the box open and wore it for a couple minutes. my heinous sister snarled at me, saying “are you going to wear that?” i said of course! then she said “out someplace?” pfft, stop being jealous of my wonderful fuzzy wool hat.

anyways, i stole a newspaper from an old person living in my complex this morning. i needed a newspaper for my horrid economics class today. i didn’t have one, nor had the urge to trek out to a seven eleven. just as i was gonna say “fahgettaboudit”, i looked down and the bundle of joy was looking up at me. looking around, i sort of just put it under my arm a la wall street style and dashed into my car. i thought about leaving a quarter in the elevator for the expense, but then realized i didn’t even have a quarter.

so in my horrid class, i ended up not even needing the newspaper at all. everyone had left theirs from previous classes. so the project was that we had a million dollars. we had to find things to buy in the newspaper that would add up to a million. you had to come within a dollar. well! i thought it was semi-exciting, so i flipped to where they keep the listings for mansions and “bought” myself a splendid $500,000 house with two jacuzzis and a tennis court. i bought a king size bed, a siamese cat, a pt cruiser, and a ticket to see billy joel. at this point i was pretty bored with the whole thing. i saw an ad for the make a wish foundation, so i donated the remaining $21,846.44 to charity.

i flipped out twice today at school. that’s a new record. i try to limit myself to once a day, but not today. in physics, we had to go out in the beating sun and do a velocity lab. i got sunburnt, by the way. the lab required four people, so i waited around for everyone to pair up to see who was left. to make a long story short, this boy sat in the corner the whole time while we didn’t even get to finish our lab due to our missing person. then, when in class, i add up the totals and hand the results to my partners to copy. he snatches them away and copies them. first. wanker.

i called him a greasy boy who thinks the whole world treats him badly, yadda yadda. it wasn’t very nice, but it had to be done. i’m tired of these sorts of assholes who make you work and then try to reap the credits. especially if they just sit there like the world owes them something. well, some kid stopped walking while i was behind him in the hallway. i stepped on the back of his tennies and almost fell on my face. i gave a terrific lecture about that. maybe not so much terrific or lecture.. but yelled a little.

writing makes it seem like people care about me. i love it. i wonder if anybody famous has stopped by. i highly doubt it. i always dream that one day someone like brad pitt or robert redford or trent reznor or a kurt cobain clone would send me an email proposing to me. hah hah, silly girl.

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