September 26, 2003 :: 2:13 a.m.
I was perhaps a little lax with the grammar in this entry.
Oh, so tired. Why do I stay up so late when there is no more pleasant thought than sinking down into pillows and blankets and sleeping for as long as life will allow? Foolish me.
I have to carve an egg out of plaster by Tuesday. It's about 70% done, I'd say. I liked carving plaster in high school, but it's not so much fun now. I think it's because the only tool we were given/allowed to use is a paring knife with its blade ground down to harmlessness. Except that mine isn't harmless at all; I cut myself like 57 times. So did everyone else. They are indeed effective weapons of small-time destruction, but I'm not so sure about their usefulness in carving things.
My tooth hurts. My teeth are not my friends. I think I have weak enamel or something, because there is no other excuse for me to go to the dentist and have 6 or 7 cavities. Same thing happened when I was a kid, even though I had a relatively strong devotion to hygiene even then. I brush my teeth at least twice a day. I floss every night. I don't drink a lot of soda, I don't drink coffee at all, I don't smoke. I do consume a fair amount of tea, but still. What gives? Fucking defective teeth. Were natural selection to kick into overdrive and evolve the human race to its next stage of being tomorrow, I would totally be left behind. I just don't think short, pudgy (read: fat) vegetarians with bad teeth, frequent chest pains, an abundance of personality flaws, and questionable mental stability are on the top of the "Cool New Species" list. Sorry, me. It was occasionally slightly pleasant knowing you.
Yawn. I'm babbling. I'm going to start babbling even more in just a bit, I'm sure. Hopefully I'll have the sense to get myself to sleep before that happens. Because while I do love a good babble, my typing is getting sloppy, and when my typing gets sloppy you can be fairly certain that I need to step away from the computer and fall into unconsciousness. It's a definite sign.
I wonder about the 10 commandments sometimes. In an impartial sort of way, of course, being the devilish non-believer than I am. Why only 10? Why not 15 or 20? Hell, why no 36? I mean, why limit yourself? We do love our rules and regulations, after all. And no one in America takes most of the 10 seriously, anyway. Devout church-goers, perhaps, but the general populace steals and covets and commits adultery with a song in their hearts. Of course, there's a very good chance that I have no idea what I'm taking about. I have never read the bible. I'm fairly sure that I couldn't actually list the 10 commandments. I know there's stuff about not stealing and coveting and committing adultery, though. Possibly. I don't know. I've never seriously been to church.
I get to sleep over at Adam's tomorrow night. Or tonight, if you wish to get technical. He's dog-sitting, so we're going to hang out there and take care of Sam and stuff. It'll be fun. It had the potential to be quite a bit more than just fun, really, *wink, wink, salacious grin* but then my period made a guest appearance. I hate being a woman. Of course, I hate being alive in general, so I guess the woman thing would sort of be automatically included.
"Pulchritudinous" is like... the hardest word ever to spell. Not really, but my fingers go all wonky when I try to type it. Also, it's one of those words where the way it sounds totally contradicts its meaning. It's a very unpleasant-sounding word, and yet it describes someone possessed of great beauty. Kooky.
Anyway, I'm drooping. As if you couldn't tell from my nonsensical blather. 'Night, all.
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