April 10, 2003 :: 3:13 p.m.
yes, I am bitter. it's because I have no popsicles.
Emily has been working my very last fucking nerve lately by messing with every messable thing in the room. I have popsicles in the freezer, so I turned the temperature all the way down to facilitate their freezing. But they don't freeze, because she constantly turns it back up to something resembling tepid water. So my popsicles have been reduced to mush-filled sacks, which makes for an unpleasant tactile experience. I wanted one a few minutes ago, but nooo... slush bags. Bitch. And she always turns the heater up, like it's the middle of January. I mean, yeah, it's been chilly lately, but damn. Every time I come in it's a gross sort of sweltering, like sitting under a giant heat lamp with a parka on. And this is coming from someone who is always and forever freezing her ass off, so... yeah.
Today she made Goth Boy some construction paper valentine thing, heart-shaped and scrawled on with a pink Sharpie. Er, okay. I have three problems with this.
1. Emily has the artistic talent of a tranquilized goat. It's not cute, it's embarrassing. Stick to Hallmark, honey.
2. What in god's name makes her think that the Prince of Dorkness would want a red construction paper heart with a sappy love quote on it? I'm thinking that His Gothness would rather have a tall glass of blood and perhaps a virgin sacrifice.
3. She hung it on the fucking wall. Do I hang my crappy artwork on the wall? No, I do not. Despite my raging hatred for the girl, I do try to be sort of considerate. Also, I'm not incredibly self-centered.
Oh, goody goody goddamn gumdrops. My favorite person in the whole wide world is here! Can someone tell me why the Gothic Avenger and his "I shop at Hot Topic but I yearn for The Gap" counterpart (Emily, of course) are watching a documentary about Christina Aguilera? This is the second one they've tuned in for, and frankly... color me confused. You can also color me incredibly irritated, but that's to be expected.
The sound of people I hate kissing is really the most disgusting, nausea-inducing assault that my ears have ever endured.
Someone please kill me. I welcome death. Non-existence is a happy alternative to living with this brain-dead moron.
And meanwhile, I work diligently on my research paper. Adam's sister Meghan called to ask if she and Marty could take us to dinner tonight, which is really nice of them. Also very welcome, because free Mama's is a wonderful thing. They're coming around sixish, so my paper must be nearing completion by then. And by "nearing completion" I mean at least 7 pages long.
Back to business, then.
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