Archive for February, 2003

a dangerous girl to fall in love with (or: going going gone)

Sunday, February 23rd, 2003

after i returned from a squash playing and rock climbing expedition friday afternoon, i had to take the world’s fastest shower and then trudge over to my place of employment for a seven-hour shift. i was too exhausted to do anything when i got home, so i immediately crawled under the covers and fell asleep. when i awoke on saturday, everyone was gone, be it a paintball trip or elsewhere. in four hours, i managed a shower, a trip to the vending machine for pop-tarts, and about 100 games of snood. then another seven-hour shift that rendered me completely incapable of accomplishing anything afterward. (we had a rush 15 minutes before closing, you see.) today, newspaper – walking around campus to do work for people who were too lazy to do it themselves and then using my own bootlegged photoshop instead of walking back up to the j-building. then a walk over to wendy’s, since i was not willing to trek up to the u.c. and have a social dinner. and now, wednesday’s new york times crossword puzzle.

all in all, a pretty lonely weekend.

i want to go home; i need to get out of here.
i don’t want to come back, no not ever.
stupid me, i was doing too well a few months ago to finish those transfer applications.

i don’t really want to go home, i don’t want to do anything or see anyone there.
i just want out.
out out out.

out of my mind.
out of reach.
out of time.

i’m leaving as soon as it makes sense to.

  

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one sentence for the week (or: good night; bad morning)

Friday, February 14th, 2003

i cry myself to sleep at night because i’m such an asshole.

  

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and spice and everything nice (or: no, i really mean it this time, because you aren’t worth the trouble)

Tuesday, February 4th, 2003

i’m in a violently angry mood, which brings me to a point:

i am communism.

i hold everyone to a strict moral code, and lo, as soon as they show the slightest sign of not adhering to it, i hate them. i don’t get angry; i hate. but when i start slipping away from these ethical guidlines, i hypocritically modify them, i make special exceptions so that i have a little leeway. they’re set in stone for all but i, the omniscient, omnipresent shit that i am.

i am audioslave.

have you ever heard me lie? i lie so much that it’s gone from art to science for me. and what’s more, i say that i’m an open book when i really hide most everything from everyone. go ahead, ask me what the worst thing i ever did was; i won’t answer. i’ll sit there and pretend to think, but i already know what it is. i just don’t want to answer because you’ll hate me too much.

i am every crush i’ve ever had.

trust me, it doesn’t take much for me to choose temptation over loyalty. not much at all.

in theory, i am a great thing. in reality, i’m worthless.

  

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id id id (or: streaking is such a rush)

Monday, February 3rd, 2003

Here is a list of things that are wrong with me.

  • I can’t roll my tongue.
  • I don’t burp.
  • I can’t blow a bubble. In fact, I rarely chew gum.
  • My skin is second to none in sunburning ability.
  • I am terrible about waking up.
  • I am not a fan of haircuts and shaving.
  • I can barely barely wink.
  • I am blind without my glasses.
  • I can’t whistle.
  • One of my front teeth is chipped.
  • I am about three steps away from being a vegan. (cheese, chocolate, eggs)
  • I own a pair of pasty white legs.
  • I was born in West Virginia. I grew up there as well.
  • I can’t snap my fingers.
  • Wilson knocked me out in a flag football game. Actually, I ran into him.
  • I call the Midwest home. (St. Charles, MO)
  • My ankles are decently weak.
  • I took the ACT instead of the SAT, and got a 33, thank you very much.
  • My “snappy comebacks” are usually very awful. But they’re at least funny in an awful sense.
  • I can put my foot behind my head.
  • I can’t swallow pills.
  • I was tricked into wearing a skirt once.

    • There is nothing else wrong with me.

      

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