Sunday, April 27

Medicinal High, How Are You?

There is three weeks worth of laundry stashed away in my closet. I’ve been contemplating whether or not to trudge down to the washroom and toss the clothes in for a spin. That, however would require venturing out of my room and down the stairs--- and with my current too-sick-to-move disposition, it’s not the most practical idea. I’m scraping the very backs of drawers and digging deep within the depths of my closet in search of something to wear. Perhaps I’ll show up to school in my froggy pajama bottoms and timber creek t-shirt.

I know my mum would be more than happy to wash my dirty clothes, but I will not enter back into the vicious cycle of codependence. She knows, as well as I do, that the relationship of a mother and daughter hangs solely in the balance of who washes whose undergarments. I will not be silly putty in that crazy woman’s hands anymore---- even if that means going to school in the nude!

Fine. I’ll ask her.

Meh. I hate laundry. I’m moving to a nudist colony so I never have to do it again. But first, I’ll have to gauge out my eyes. Then everything will be perfect.

Cynicism is not sexy. At least from my experience, boys don’t consider it an attractive characteristic. Oh well. We’re all going to die anyways.

He he he. See! I can still be funny…ish!

I never truly appreciated being able to breath out of my nostrils until now. I guess what they say is right: you never appreciate what you have until you catch a cold from an ungrateful little bint you spent he whole day caring for (referring to my sister here). I’m almost so taken over in sadness for such a loss that I may just write an ode to my nose.

Oh Nose, I will never chop off
Your pug shape will remain the same
No matter how the trends scoff
As the days go by and the seasons change name.
Friend, foe, when stuffy I’ll blow
The snot out of you
And breath freely again
There is no distance I won’t go
To try and help you through
You are my best friend.

Yeah…that basically took all my energy, so…goodnight.


P.S. Stuff it.

Tuesday, April 22

We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things…

Eep. His new CD comes out in MAY! :D
Yes, I’m excited. I just hope it won’t be a disappointment.

I’m saving myself for Jason Mraz and not in the way you’re thinking, pervert.
As soon as he starts touring again in the States, I’ll go to my very first non-orchestral/band concert. Lame, I know.

I’m two seconds and a crazy straw away from moving to Canada. I’ll much on whale nuggets and add nifty words like ‘aye’ and ‘aboot’ to my vocabulary. America Jr. recycles.

: ( they just mentioned SLC on the Simpsons. Dammit.

Mum dragged me to Joanne’s yesterday. Have you ever noticed how absolutely uncomfortable the boys you find there look? They’re either overcompensating for being in a craft store by trying to look macho while holding their mother’s purses, or they have a vacant, confused, and almost constipated stare. I saw this one kid who was trying to vibe the ‘tough man attempting to grow a mustachio’ in the time he spent waiting on the check-out line.

I’ve been let down by the get down if you know what I mean…I think. I don’t really know what I’m babbling on bout.

My room cleaning attempts leave much to be desired. I think I actually made it worse.

I’m throwing away my SLC letter. Well, at least I’ll try to.

P.S. I've got a new obsession: knitting. It's amazing. :D

Monday, April 7

blah blah change change,.

Shove cyanide down my throat; I’m back at school.
You know, being accepted into SLC hasn’t done much for me---aside from mucking everything up in a pretty brilliant way. I think I would have been somewhat content-ish with UCF if I had been rejected from my dream school. Or I might just have gone out Sylvia Plath style (I kid. I don’t even know where I’d find a gas oven in Florida).