January 23, 2003 :: 11:18 p.m.
can 44 midgets pull a plane?
GAH. If I had laser eyes, or even the balls to actually kill someone, Emily would be a smoldering pile of ashes right now. I would sweep Ashy Emily under the dresser, where she would live for all eternity with my ever-expanding family of dust bunnies. And these are not friendly dust bunnies; they're a strange and ingenious breed with huge, glistening fangs and a lust for human flesh. They would devour her flesh-smelling ashes in seconds, leaving me with a single room and a much firmer grasp on that slippery beast we call "sanity."
I overheard her talking to Justin last night, because I was trying to get to sleep and there's not a sound-proof bubble surrounding my bed. Apparently, she wanted to "take a break" and "experience things on her own." I find this endlessly amusing, because it looks to me like the only thing she's experiencing is the inside of our dorm room. Actually, no. Scratch out "amusing" and replace it with "annoying." Because it is, very much. I am an antisocial loser with one friend. His name is Adam, and he lives upstairs. And despite this complete and utter lack of social skills and integration, I can be out of the room whenever I need to be. Which, basically, is when she's here, and especially when she has one of her boy toys over.
Emily, on the other hand, has friends. She really does; I've seen them. They're not figments of anyone's imagination. So why is she acting like she's trapped in this dank little room? She has places to go, people to see, things to do. Go, I say. See people. Do things. Release me from your constantly annoying presence. It's amazing how bad it's gotten, actually. I do not want to be here. The only thing that's currently keeping me here is Adam, because I figure that if I'm going to be miserable, I should at least be miserable someplace that has Adam. Because he's pretty much the only thing capable of making me un-miserable. Well, kitties can. And little asian girls. But neither of those are viable options on a day-to-day basis, so... yeah.
I just... grr. I hate my classes. I hate my roommate. And I'm pretty much hating myself, which is really nothing new. I've never been fond of myself. I'm just not happy here, and it's amplified more than ever for some reason. Probably because after this semester I don't ever have to come back, and now the weeks are dragging out in a very painful way. My only source of that elusive giddy feeling is being with Adam, and lately even that's been tainted by the fact that I can't stand myself. If I can't, how can he? I've gained the Freshman 7 Gajillion, I'm never happy, I'm very easily irritated, and more and more I feel that I would get the greatest satisfaction from pummeling someone to dead. I've always been rather on the side of violence, but lately it's just... must break things. But I can't, because Emily is ALWAYS here. I was going to have a nice game of Throw The Phone earlier, but I was thwarted. Dammit.
Well. That got off-topic and depressing. So let's round it off with a nice, annoying tidbit about my Roommate From Hades: she eats radishes, raw, with salt. At her desk. As Amanda said: *crunch* chewchewchew. It's the most grating sound in the universe. Like a million mealworms chewing on... meals. Or something. Ack.
Adam and I are going to see more kitties at the mall tomorrow. They're having another Adopt-a-Thon, which makes for wonderful cat viewage. Then it's off to my house to start packing things up. Woo. That should be "just like fun, only boring." (I love me some Faith.) Saturday night is Mom's birthday dinner - I have to try to find her a decent present with the, oh, five dollars I've got to spend. Sunday is, possibly, dinner with Adam's dad and some other people (his people, not my people), and maybe moving some stuff into the new house. Wacky hijinks will surely ensue.
Egh, bedtime. So tired. 'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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