February 20, 2003 :: 9:00 p.m.
I'm such an odd disaster
Well that was piles on gooey fun. Gotta love a nice English paper. And then a Global Pop paper. But at least it's all done, sort of. I didn't actually finish the Global Pop paper, because I haven't read some of the stuff that I need to comment on, but I'll do that tonight and finish it tomorrow. It's really short and though my professor is has a PhD is something or other I suspect that she's really very stupid, so no big.
My collarbone hurts. Or perhaps I should say "my clavicle hurts," because clavicle is a much cooler word. In any case, it hurts, and that sucks. I get these random pains for no reason at all, which I'm sure is an indicator that my insides are slowly melting and one of these days I'm just going to crumple into a pile on the sidewalk and die. Man, I'm such an optimist.
Ack, I keep getting so distracted. I want to be at home with my sewing machine and craft supplies so that I can be all Martha Stewart (only not a robot) with my bad self. I always get ideas when I can't do anything with them, and hey, it's no fun. Because I also always forget them the second that I could possibly implement them. Grr, argh. At this rate I'll never conquer the world with homemade lip gloss.
Adam and I took a walk to the natural food store down the street today, because it was really nice out and I was having a serious yen for their awesome granola bars. I love these things. They're yummier than any granola bar I've ever had, EVER, and I've had a lot of granola bars in my day. I got three of those, some fruit leather, a package of dark chocolate peppermint cups, and the best tortilla chips ever. They're brown rice and black bean tortilla chips with garlic and onion. Mmm. I may never touch regular chips, tortilla or no, again. I'm going to miss that store when I leave here. I may have to stockpile the tortilla chips and granola bars like they're gold nuggets. Because they are, to my food-loving self.
Aww, Adam is so cute. He just came down to give me some article that we have to read for Global Pop tomorrow and to say goodnight and stuff. He's been pretty much locked up in his room for the last few days, studying, and I feel bad for him. But he's genius boy, he'll do great. His test will be over and done with by 10 o' clock tomorrow morning, and this weekend we will relax and play Nintendo and visit the adoptable cats at the mall and enjoy not going to class.
Jesus, I've been writing this thing for almost an hour and a half. Well, no, technically I suppose I've been concentrating on other things for almost an hour and a half while this entry sat in its sad little white box and cried. I'm sorry, little entry. I'm just powerless to resist articles about embroidery and retro dress patterns. It's a thing. But I'll have mercy and end you now, because otherwise I suspect that you might go all suicidal on me. And that would be bad.
Cheers.
edited 10:35 p.m. Oh, there's the perfume. Goth Boy must be on his way over. Joy and unending rapture have overtaken me. Seriously, who put on perfume while they're wearing their PJs? Ridiculous.
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