March 04, 2003 :: 12:17 a.m.
12:17 and all is not well. fucking birds.
Jesus. I'm so tired. And my head feels like someone wedged a crowbar into a tiny crack in the back of my skull and has, for the past two hours or so, been slowly prying it open. I was going to upload a bunch of sketches tonight, but I don't think I can stay awake much longer, so it'll have to wait. So sad.
I didn't take my walk tonight, because it's 10 degrees out. And while I am admittedly somewhat masochistic, I do not derive any pleasure at all from freezing my ass (and every other part of my body, for that matter) off. I haven't felt so well today, anyway, so it's just as well. I'll be out again tomorrow night, provided that the arctic chillies aren't staying for another few days. That would just suck. I live in Pennsylvania, not Alaska, for christ's sake. If I wanted to wear three sweaters and a parka every day, I'd get a house in the tundra someplace.
Ugh. I can't even find solace in the quiet, empty late night hours anymore. It's pathetic. Goth Boy just called - when I picked up, he was like "you're awake, right?" Yes, I'm awake, but I'm not your fuck buddy and not only am I grossly offended that you think I sound like her on the phone, I think it's rather presumptuous of you to just assume she picked up and not even inquire otherwise. Especially when you're calling at 12:30 in the fucking morning, you unwashed suburban kid in a black trench coat. And now SHE'S awake, calling him back, and my good (if somewhat achy) mood has once again vanished into the sucking black pit of annoyance. I would like to rip MY phone out of her hands and throw it against the wall so hard that it shatters into five pieces, but I won't. Because that would require getting close to her, possibly even touching her, and no power on this earth could convince me to do that.
Well. Isn't this lovely? I was all set to write a quippy little entry and then hit the sack in peace, but now I'm all irritated and grumpy and my head hurts even more and it's not peaceful in here, she's doing that fucking giggle thing that makes me want to rip her throat out and make it into a scarf, and there aren't really any quips in this entry at all. Just petty, depressing, angry ramblings full of unfulfilled violent urges.
I am not going to 2-D Design tomorrow, because I do not fucking feel like it. Attendance is "mandatory," but whatever, my professor can suck it up and take it like a man, the bastard. I don't like him. He's very pompous.
I'm listening to Hooverphonic now, and it's making me want to have sex. Dammit. Sexual frustration: yet another reason to hate this place with a fiery passion. No pun intended. Having no personal space whatsoever and even less privacy does a bang-up job of ruining your sex life, let me tell ya. No pun intended, again. I'm just punning all over the place tonight, unintentionally. I can't help it. Music. Sex. Good. Roommate. No Sex. Bad. Very, very bad. I suppose the sexual frustration could explain the increase in my violent tendencies, though.
I think I'd be a good vampire. And you can bet that the first fucking thing I'd do is come back here and snap Emily's neck like a toothpick. I wouldn't be all blood-sucky with her, though, because ew. Gross. No power on this earth.
Anyway. Bed time. Not that I'll get much sleep with Emily shouting disgusting somethings (the opposite of whispering sweet nothing) into the phone. Right now she's whining about how her shower was interrupted this morning and so *insert very annoying whiny voice here* she didn't get to shave her legs or anything! Whatever, bitch. GRRRR. I was in such a better mood when I started this. Fucking hell.
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