February 23, 2003 :: 10:59 p.m.
stupid bitches and wacky dream hijinks
Yeah, I just updated like an hour ago, but now I'm back in my room and I feel the need to share something with my dear online diary.
As you know, Goth Boy was here "hanging out" with Emily. In this case, "hanging out" is equivalent to "groping," in case you haven't caught on yet. Well, I was upstairs with Adam for a while, and when I came back down Goth Boy was on the phone with his girlfriend. The gist of the conversation, from what I could gather, was that she didn't want him over here all the time. He was all "you can hang out with whoever you want, why can't I hang out with Emily?" I laughed tremendously at this(on the inside, of course), because Emily was rubbing up against him and kissing his neck and shit during his whole schpeel. His poor girlfriend. But at least we know that she can't be a complete moron, despite the fact that she's dating this smelly bastard, because she apparently knows what his idea of "hanging out" is.
Emily has no integrity whatsoever. No wonder I hate her so much.
I forgot to mention this before, but I got new glasses on Friday night. Two pairs, in fact. They're both dark red like my sadly broken pair, and one has rhinestones around the outer edges. They make me all tingly happy.
Heh. Goth Boy's girlfriend just called, I assume to see if he'd left yet. Emily was such a giant bitch to her. Whatever, you big slut. You're the one who's all over her boyfriend.
I am so not ready for a new week to start. I have to do my art homework for Tuesday (which was actually my art homework for last Tuesday that got postponed due to massive snow), but I'm in no mood to work on that tonight. Tomorrow it is, then. I really need to stop procrastinating so much, but the motivation to do so is very hard to muster since it hasn't adversely affected my grades at all. I wonder why? Oh, that's right - it's because all of my classes are geared toward mentally impaired football players who like to wear their jockstraps around their foreheads. Fucking college.
Well, I have once again run out of things to say. Well, not really. I had a freaky dream last night that I've had four times before. How do I know this? I remember having it before, for one, but I really know because I was told. In my dream.
Me: I've been here before.
Scary Lady: You've been here four times.
Again: freaky. The whole thing was just bizarre, especially so because of the deja vu that was going on the whole damn time. And there was a mislabeled continent. It said Madagascar, but it was really Africa. It was big and yet very small at the same time. And there was a tree growing out of it that you had to climb to get into this house where Scary Lady and her companion, Scary Man, try to kill you in the least time-efficient ways possible. And some sort of sprite/faery/little girl in a costume was involved at some point. I think she went through cracks in the walls and under doors like smoke. Scary Lady was tied up at some point, and an old-fashioned white radio was used in an attempt to knock out Scary Man, but it didn't work.
Yeah. What can I say after that?
I am once again broke. Damn you, convenient online shopping! I'm going to go wallow in my lack of money now. Goodnight.
edited 11:20 p.m. I just saw Giles' ass. Dear god. I am so unendingly disturbed right now. I mean, Anthony Stewart Head is a very nice-looking man and all, but for the love of all that is pure and decent in this world... I do not need to see Giles' ass. Not ever. Fucking BBC.
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