xevilxashleyx

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

...about the boy and bicycles and bridges and trees. Water and sidewalks and being alone. Every night for the last week or so.
Then...last night I had a dream about shoes and shopping and mockery. I was a customer, as well a the girl at the counter. Some gorgeous (ie tall, thin, long haired, lipstick-laden, modified, etc) girls were making fun of (short, fat, makeupless, decidedly unhip) Counter Evil, and (equally short, fat, makeupless, decidedly unhip) Customer Evil stuck up for her. Then, while shoe shopping, Customer Evil found a bunch of really awesome shoes that she loved, but none of them were in her size. When she finally found a pair that was in her size, there was only one of them. So, she put it on and walked around until she found another shoe in her size. It was a different shoe entirely, but it fit. Counter Evil saw her and decided she looked rediculous, so Counter Evil fucked over Customer Evil by giving her these shoes that looked super awesome and were perfect in every way...then when I was out of the store, they were these gross brown, laceup, knee high, chuck/work boot hybrids and I couldn't get them off because they'd fused to my flesh. Even better: When I went back into the store, Counter Evil said she could get them off for me only if I returned them, but that I couldn't return them because they'd been worn...

This craptastic weather is getting to me. What is this now, day nine of rain and cold and fog? Something like that. I've lost count.

It irritates me more when someone says they'll do something small (like call at a certain time, as apposed to something big, like helping me move) and they don't. I don't ever actually expect people to do 'big' things, but small things...well, they're not that hard, so...yeah, I expect them once yu say them. Why bother with such a minor lie? Why not just say you won't do it, or better yet, don't say anything about it at all...? Gah. It gets on my fucking nerves.

I'm just noticing my fish tank is dirty like woah. I don't have the ambition to clean it just yet...

I need to shave. I'm stubbly again...

I can't really feel my body. It's like when you've smoked good pot, and suddenly, you can't really feel yourself anymore. I havn't smoked super recently, so I have no idea what's going on, but I'm pretty sure I'm deaf in my left ear now.

So, going right along with the "Things Never Work the Way I'd Like Them To" theme...

Today, I have to go to a baby shower for my aunt - who's about as close to popping as close to popping can get without actually popping, and with twins, no less - and I have no desire to be there at all, even though she's the only family member I actually like...
The boy was supposed to come and hang out with me, but the Wee-est Wee One is ill and they're all going to hang out with his mom instead.
A few people from work were supposed to come, too, but because my ex-boss - who just so happens to be a Super Bitch - is going to be there, no one from work wants to come now.
And...my legs are back to breaking out in massive hives. This time, it's all the way up to my hips. That means I have hives on my cooter. Yuck. But...there are worse things to have on my cooter, sooo...

The Drama Queen at work is going to the bronx this weekend to meet some guy she met on the internet last week. She kept talking about how "the universe was giving [her] signs" not to go - she lost her keys, she got a flat tire, he has to work saturday morning, blahblahblah - but she went anyway. I half hope the universe was right and she doesn't come back. I don't feel bad about hoping that.

I'm itching for new ink like woah. I'm also itching for this point in my life to be well over so I can move the fuck on and finally be happy with things.

People are crawling out of the wood work, and I don't like it. I forgot why I stopped talking to a good portion of people in the first place. Has it really been almost a year since I talked to most of them? Yeah, aparently.

I wish my mother would hurry the hell up in the bathroom, because 1) I need to pee, 2) I need to take a shower, and 3) she just spends way too damn long in the fucking bathroom. Seriously, why is it that some girls take two.five hours to get ready for anything?! If I ever get that insecure and/or shallow, I'd like to be shot. Repeatedly. In a place that won't immediately kill me.

I wish my hair would grow out faster. I get impatient with this "in between" phase, and as soon as the hair touches my shoulders and/or neck...I get that itch to shave it all off again.

Also:

I am currently in love with this guy. He's fucking awesome.

There are at least a dozen crickets running amok in my room right now. Bastards.

I'm still tired.

Gah. I want this month to be over with.


Yar. I need to smile again. I don't do enough of that anymore. I just go through the motions like I give a damn, but my give a damn is busted...