February 06, 2003 :: 11:21 p.m.
sometimes all I can see is how I feel
You know, I'm never going to finish that book. The one that's been occupying the
text: area up there for the last six and a half years. It's not because I have no time to read - I do. It's just that I have no time alone in my room, which is when reading generally takes place. Somehow reading in the loud, busy lounge just doesn't seem appropriate. Or even remotely desirable, for that matter. I don't know why they call it a lounge in the first place. To me, a lounge is someplace one goes to relax. Hence the term "lounge." This particular lounge does not qualify.
Have I mentioned that I hate it here? Like overwhelming, everlasting, always growing, burning like a thousand exploding suns hate? Because yeah, I do. I was complaining about it to my mom all evening, which should tell you exactly how much I don't want to be here - I don't generally share much with my parents. Not because I'm trying to hide things from them or anything, because hey, nothing much to hide. It's just that I usually don't feel the need to get all chatty with my parents. It's happened a few times in the past, but it's hardly a regular occurrence. But tonight I was just blah blah blah Emily blah blah NEVER LEAVES blah miserable blah blah living hell blah. You get the picture. She sympathized, but she also found it kind of funny. I'm sure she wouldn't think so if she had to live with it, but in any case I appreciate her putting up with my endless whining. Good Mommy.
So yeah, paint. It took me almost an hour to pick out two colors of paint. I am very sad and indecisive - send me informational packets about twelve step programs. But seriously, do you know how hard it is to find true red paint? Not brownish red, or pinkish red, or orange-red, or terracotta, or rust, or berry, or any of the other million variations of the color - I'm taking serious bright red. It's really fucking hard. We ended up having to buy a weird kind of paint that requires both a primer and somewhere between three and five coats to get it to its full intensity. WTF? Red is a dark color, it should easily cover the walls. Apparently this logic doesn't apply to paint, but whatever. My room is being painted Crushed Strawberries and Apple #4. Yummy delicious.
On the way back to school, we got into a little accident. Rather, we smashed into the back of some old guy's car at relatively high speeds. Eep. I was expecting crumple action to take place, but thankfully it didn't. I wasn't wearing my seatbelt (bad Amanda!), so I was kind of... er... violently jostled. I kind of hurt my arm, and my neck is in a fair amount of discomfort, but overall it wasn't a big thing. And considering that these minor problems were caused preventing a very major and much more painful problem (a head/windshield collision), I'm willing to deal. The guy we hit seemed nice enough, and not a whole lot of real damage was done. All is well.
Adam and I ordered pizza when I got back, because we were a bit late for dinner and I didn't feel like walking to the car in the blustery cold to go to Mama's. It was kind of gross, but we ate it anyway. Much like I ate a Kudos bar about half an hour ago even though I'm so very not hungry that the thought of food is making me queasy. I'll say this once again: I never, ever have the right to wonder why I'm so fat. Seriously.
Dammit, Adam, why must you give me links to these addictive games?? I'm stuck on level 13 of Gridlock - it's very frustrating. And yet I can't stop playing. Grr, argh.
Well, it's almost midnight, so I should be getting to bed soon. That should be a fun adventure, what with the TV on really loud and stuff. It's Real Cops, too - screaming crack addicts being pulled out of their homes like so many suspected Communists. (Why yes, I do realize that I'm making no sense whatsoever. Thanks for asking.) Great! Wish me luck.
'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005