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[07 Aug 2009|11:26am] |
I'm having a bad bang day. Oh, yeah, I got bangs. Basically, this is me:
I want to buy a house. I'm going to buy a house.
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[26 Jun 2009|10:03am] |
Scratch my last post. Some of it.
Time for the cliche ambiguous livejournal.com entry. It's been awhile. I like to keep my readers (readER?) in suspense, salivating for my every word that does not come but once a month. Think of me, like, as a trashy, not stylish or talented Vogue.
I've done a lot of soul searching the past couple of months. I think I've transformed into a completely different human being than I was at the start of the year. I'm overwhelmingly mellow and the little things are ceasing to phase me. I've started treating myself with more respect, and step one of that process is to stop hanging out with people who continuously bring me down. I had no idea, however, that those very people would be some of the ones I was most close to. I've just been evaluating friendships that I've had throughout the years, as a whole, and I realized that those filled with constant fighting and constant degredation and constant worrying over whether I will offend them over what I think or say... that is not normal.
And I guess that is what I crave so much right now in my life.. normalacy. It's ironic that I'm saying this because six months ago I was going to drop everything and move to L.A. and discard any sense of 'constant' in my life. Which got me thinking, "Why do I want change so much? What is so wrong with the way things are, or the way that they will be, that I need to dramatically alter my life?" I couldn't come up with a good reason other than, "'Cuz I want to!" I'm completely unwilling, at this moment, to give up my family or my Brian. I have turned a deaf ear to the negative views of others. A lot of the criticisms I have received have come from less than reputable sources, and I really don't care what anyone thinks but me, at this point. I will listen to your opinion, but it doesn't mean I have to value it. Misery loves company, I suppose, and a lot of the shitbags I know are throwing a fucking miserable party.
I am making things right with myself; I am eating healthier, cooking every night, hitting the gym, picking out nice outfits for work. It's liberating to finally have a job where I get to contemplate what I am going to wear, how I'm going to do my hair, which pair of earrings I will select that day. The little things.
No complaints in life. I wish people could be as happy and carefree as I am. I wish people didn't have to try so hard to look pretty on the outside, while being ugly on the inside comes so easily.
Be good. Jesus is watching.
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[26 May 2009|11:17am] |
I really should stop e-lurking. Nothing good ever comes of it, and I end up just making fun of all of the respective idiots I stalk, which is ironic, because I'm really the pathetic a-hole wasting my time looking at their myspace.com or facebook.com profiles. One random profile of some chick that I have never met before in my life was especially hilarious to me this morning. Under the "About Me" section, it started with, "I'm really not good at talking about myself" and White Trash Hipster Barbie then proceeded to write an entire paragraph about herself. I'm (not for the first time in my life) starting to realize the overwhelming contradictions of more or less everyone ever. I'm also realizing that people want to exaggerate their life stories to seem more important. The reality is (and this sucks for my ego because I'm literally 100% convinced that I will be famous in some way that more than likely will involve some Rock of Love-esque show where I will have to fillate some 45 year old d00d for air time) that no one is really that important and your lives aren't really as interesting as you think, so you have to juice up your stories to make yourselves sound cool. I mean, this isn't directed to any specific "you", just the general populace of myspace.com tramps that are trying to artistically show their nudes to the world via "finger in ass" pics. Not classy, and Jesus can see you and he's crying.
I have an interview for real people jobs tomorrow. I found an ad on capitalareahelpwanted.com for Entry Level Paralegal positions. I figured, why the frick not? I am completely miserable being an indentured servant. I am such a Danni Downer when I am there and resent everyone around me and have been bitching internally about customers asking for, like, staple items like forks that drop on the ground and napkins. I always throw a big hissy fit and mope (behind the scenes, of course) which is ridiculous because I have the easiest, most brainless job on the planet, which I think is the problem. Like, I have a brain, and I want to be able to use it in whatever occupational field I am apart of. Bring refills and cleaning tables is not the outlet to do that. I'm really excited at the possibility of having NIGHTS and WEEKENDS free because, like, I work THREE nights a week and EVERY weekend. I want to DO stuff this summer; get outside, be with nature.
In the same breath, if you've seen me in the past five days, and I burst out crying spontaneously, it's because I was rejected from UCLA, my dream school since I was eight years old. I don't understand... I got one B. I work full-time, but wrote really meaningful essays about the maturity which taking a few years off and living on my own has instilled in me. WTF, UCLA?! Of course I blew it out of proportion times INFINITY, saying that I was going to die in Albany, NY and amount to nothing, and have to become a stripper because I didn't get into college and I'll probably get some disease and die of that, too, and I'm so worthless and everyone is so disappointed. The reality is, I applied to SEVEN colleges, and I've only heard from ONE and it is one of the best five public schools in the country, so I can't be THAT upset. Yes, I did not achieve my dream. I tumbled short, yet again, of that I was trying to achieve. That does not mean, however, that I am completely incapable of achieving ANYTHING. I will just be going in a different direction. I wanted UCLA because I wanted to do research with professors and be in labs and evaluate new mathematical formulas and create theorems and postulates to last through the ages. While I may not get that aspect of education at whatever respective college I go to now, I will still be going to college and stuffing my brain with numbers of all sorts and theoretical data and trigonometric formulas. It's exciting.
Nothing else going on really matters. I watch Daisy of Love and Deadliest Catch all day. Not exciting. I'm not going to try to exaggerate my life and make it sound like I'm doing something remotely fun or productive... I am not. Just living. I get to hold a skinny kid whom I love every night in my big, huge, softball player arms. I get to see my best friends regularly for just a short while, which I will try to take full advantage of. Cutting the figurative "fat" from my life, meaning no mas turds, which has really freed up a lot of time for the friends and family who truly matter. Summer rules.
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[17 Apr 2009|10:31am] |
So, this actually happened in my life. What you are about to read is not an exaggeration because, like, I don't think anyone could just MAKE something like this up:
I was at work the other day (I'm a waitress, I hate my life), just, you know, getting p33pz napkins and butter and their eighth Mountain Dew, when I see (probably my future husband) sitting at a table... by himself... with a laptop... playing WoW... for three hours.
It looked like he was a fucking warrior, though. n00b.
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[15 Apr 2009|12:56pm] |
Been a while, huh? (Sorry Annie, sorry Sarah, sorry lurkies!) I've just been busy every moment of my life. I wake up and play Mario Kart Wii for an hour or so before school, go to class for four to five hours, run home to change, maybe get in an episode of L&O, go to work for six hours, come home to make a screw driver and spend time with my mang before bed. Every day it's literally the same thing.
Me and Skinny "celebrated" our "two years" yesterday. I say two years kind of loosely, you know, because at one point we were breaking up every other day and fighting about dishes and laundry, but, nonetheless, I fell in love with the stinker two years ago and things are bomb now that we've minimized break ups to one a week. Not so bad! (I jus' keeding. Bri, I know you lurk this, so don't hate me. I love your guts, freak.)
I'm going to go off on a bitchy tangent right now, but, WTF is with all of these people being in love? Like, wasn't it just cool to be a slut? Now it's cool to date someone for two weeks and drop bombs? Huh. This surprises me, because a lot of the people I am talking about are still complete tramps, but have made some innocent 'tard convince himself that he loves her and her floppy vagina ways. Gross.
If you want to hear the most hilarious example of human exchange, go to your local community college, or any college probably (I can't comment on this because I'm not in real college), and listen to two dudes say "Hello" to one another. It gets me every time. It's, like, so degrading and horrible. "Hey, idiot fuck bag. I can't believe I saw you shit your pants this weekend. That party was WYLLLD!" This is the collegiate norm. People do not think twice of airing their dirty/poopy laundry for strangers like me.
Also on a somewhat whiny/bitchy Community College tangent, I was walking to the Campus Center today and I was GOSSIPED about by DUDES that were trying to be a different COLOR. I almost threw up in my mouth. They said, to themselves, "y0, look at that girl's glasses", which I automatically took as a compliment because, let's face it, I'm awesome. But, they started giggling to themselves like pathetic, socially challenged, school yard, kick-ball playing girls. Whatev, you know? But, when I walked by the SAME GROUP again on my way to the library to study/write a bitchy livejournal.com entry, and they, again, whispered and giggled (literally, these were giggles) at my sunglasses, I turned around and said, "You have some pretty awesome glasses, too, bud" to some idiot that was actually in glasses. He was, like, "Ah, man, wanna trade?!" and I was, like, "OKAY!!!!" and then he was, like, "Nah, I ain't want those glasses, y0" or something his English Comp. teacher would have been totally proud of, and I called him a meat gazer and walked away. All of this from a dude who had his undergarments exposed.
For the record, this is a picture of me, looking really, REALLY attractive, BTW, in aforementioned glasses:
Totally radical, right? Suck upon me!
Still waiting to hear on college. 'Sup, college?! HOLLA AT ME!
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[13 Mar 2009|10:17am] |
I am going to be moving out tomorrow. Again. Since I have come back from Charlotte to more or less ruin my life (just kidding, it's fine now), I have lived in seven "homes". That is not an exaggeration. I came home less than three years ago. May 2006. I have packed my stuff into boxes and shoved it into whatever pathetic excuse of a car I have at the time and I have put it nicely into another home and I have showered that home with candles and Windex and then I left that home. I did that six times. This will now be my seventh. Move. Eighth place. Three years.
Things are on-track lately. I don't feel overwhelmed at all with school like I usually do around this time. I had 5 A's and a B at mid-terms. I asked my English professor about the B because, well, everyone else in that class is a boob and I just didn't understand how my work was B-worthy. She said that she didn't give A's at midterms because the majority of our class load is due during the second half of the semester. That's fucking great; now I'm not going to get accepted to a good college, or any college, and I am going to do nothing with my life, and I will probably OD on some hard drugs or something, I don't know, crack or something because I have to be a prostitute to support myself because I don't have a fucking degree because I can't get into college because I have a fucking B!
I feel like an ass. I was going to go sleep in my car during this class break, but I listened to an hour long Mike Dikk pod cast instead. I LOL-ed more than once, and the three different people that have sat next to me at various times stared. I think they were confused, because all that was on my screen was a Blank Document page in Word (I was going to type a brief personal essay for scholarship purposes, but I was too into the ramblings of the d00dz to concentrate on anything else). They were probably thinking how nuts this tramp is to be laughing at a blank page. I am.
For the record, I am in the exact same outfit that I wore yesterday to school. It was Brian's 21st last night (just a wittle babyyyyyy), so partying ensued and I had to be to school at 8 this morning. I have a different shirt in my backpack that I should put on. I probably look like a hideous mess; I am in the same make-up that I have worn for the past two days, I haven't brushed my hair or teeth, and I have nothing in my belly except for some Smirnoff and Southern Comfort. h8 my lyfe!
Spring Break is right around the corner and I need it. Just to relax, finish moving, get my living situation perfect. I am waiting to hear from colleges. Please accept me, okay? Anyone.
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[15 Feb 2009|10:00pm] |
Okay, so I kind of skimmed over the last entry because it's pretty pitiful and all I mention is all of the bad shit going on, however, I have also made some other positive revelations as of late:
I am truly, truly blessed to have the friends that I do. The best friends. I look around me and cannot find anyone that I know with friendships as close as the one that me, Ash, and Annie have. They are not "merely party/get wylld" friends (literally, not at all). They are "you are my heart and soul and I have known you for more than two weeks and I still will continue to hang out with you despite some of the shitty crapola that you do but I'm the biggest piece of turd on the planet anyway so it all evens out and I am so grateful that you are alive" friends. It feels so good to have that. I've been kind of severing all unneeded friendships lately. The term friendship I use here wicked loosely to mean people that I have dry humped or booty danced upon or made fun of. I am too busy and popular (LAWLZ) to be wasting my time with 'tards.
So, Annie... Ashley... thank you for all that you do. Thank you for putting up with me and taking everything I say with an ocean of salt. Thanks for telling me when I'm being completely insensitive, because, I've been a heartless wench for so long that I can't even tell anymore. You will be my Valentine's until the end of time.
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[15 Feb 2009|05:16pm] |
So, apparently Hellen and Sarah lurk this shit religiously and gave me a stern talking to about updating. I mean, by "stern talking to", the conversation was literally, "I click on the link for your journal everyday and you never have anything new, so... you should." That was a week ago, and I've had some time to reflect on what needs to be divulged to the whole of the livejournal.com world.
First thing's first: my life is on a one-track path to Shitsville. It seems like a new thing is added every day to just throw on top the already heaping pile of suckiness. It's beginning to not phase me when things go wrong because I've already expected it or have planned for much worse. The figurative shit has hit the non-existent fan and it blows (no pun intended) but, I'm just tryin' to keep fighting the good fight, y'know?
I wonder if my dad still reads my journal. HI DAD! How did you even find this? Like, you are the least internet savvy person I know. Or, so you lead me to believe. Do you have a secret life as a fucking hacker or something? Why lurk my shit, Daddio?!
Alright, sorry. I'll elaborate on the above paragraph briefly (not the retarded interlude about my father, the one with my proclamation of Holy Apocalypse). I feel like I do not belong in this world. Does that make sense? I have moved an infinite amount of times in my short, pathetic excuse of a life. Every time I move, the stuff that I have acquired decreases by a garbage bag or four. Pretty soon, my life will be down to nothing. There will be nothing left to move. I will be nothing. I want some stability. I want to know where I will be in a month, and a year, and a decade. I will never know, though. I will never have a home or somewhere to run to when I'm down. I'll always have my livejournal.com, though.
It's just overwhelming. I think this is my breakdown point. Idiotassmotherfuckinretards that I graduated high school with are now graduating COLLEGE. I should be graduating college. I should be a lot of things. I am completely opposite of what I envisioned of myself. I keep tumbling drastically short of every goal I set and others set for me. I have passion for nothing except whining about my miserable existence and criticizing others for being worthless pieces of crippity crap.
Which brings me to another rant-filled point: I am sick. And fucking. Tired. Of hearing. People. Yap to me. About righteousness. YOU ARE NOT ANY BETTER THAN ME, LET ALONE ANYONE ELSE ON THE PLANET, SAINT ASSHOLE. People hold themselves in such a high regard and I cannot for the life of me understand how. When it comes down to it, people (all people) are liars, cheats, fakes, sluts, gluttons, and morons, and no matter how much they talk my ear off about how they are actually decent and prudent people, when it comes down to it, you suck probably more than anyone else because you actually think you are legit. GET A CLUE, MANG!
I just, in four bites, consumed 21% of my daily fat intake in four pathetically small pieces of Ghiradelli Chocolate. Normally, once I fall off the Health Food Bandwagon, I would binge eat any disgusting shit that I can get my hands on, but I am actually serious about improving my inner-shit (I'm not talking personality here, I'm talking organs and heart and blood and functionality of my incredibly lazy body systems).
Which, speaking of, to type this, I have put off going to the gym. Which I am going to do now. Followed by BINGO! The little things... that's what I look forward to.
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[10 Nov 2008|08:52am] |
I just re-read my last entry and I don't understand what I was even remotely trying to say. I was probably drunk or delirious or high or, more than likely, a little bit of all of them.
Excuse my bitchy tangent for a moment, but, WTF. I took two tests on Friday and studied my balls off and cried a little and am praying to UnderOATH (aka-god) that I got a 60 on my Physics test (I'm almost positive I got a 100 on my Calc test, NBD). I mean, it's kind of hard to get a decent grade when there are FIVE problems on the whole test and I have NO fucking idea how to do the first problem whatsoever so I just write, like, different Physics equations down, like, I multiplied a bunch of shit together that I thought maybe sounded good and circled that number. Whatev. Long story short, like, five people just didn't show up the day of the test so they get to take it at some point this week. Like, no explanation needed or anything. You know, unless, "I didn't fucking study and I don't know shit and I fucking suck at life" is a fucking EXCUSEABLE FUCKING ABSCENCE and ACCEPTABLE FUCKING COLLEGIATE EXCUSE! I wish I had the balls to just... not show up so that I could have an extra five days to study!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wah. Done.
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[14 Oct 2008|12:24pm] |
They've actually started yelling at people for using the computers in the library for things other than academic purposes, so I'll try and make this quick.
I regret to inform you that I realized, after lengthy self-reflection, that I AM Paris Hilton. I am she. We are one. This was not by choice; who knew that my obsession for making an acronymn out of every day sayings and my unyielding tendancy to degrade those of lesser status than I and that my affinity for uploading scandalous sexual videos of myself on the internet would so parallel this millionheiress (enjoy the pun and also realize that one of the things I just said was a lie, GUESS WHICH ONE). I'm dealing with it. I accept it. NBD. Lots of little girls look up to her and lots of middle-aged men want her, so I guess it's not so bad that she and I are exactly alike in every humanly way (this is a gross exageration as I know nothing about her except for what is vommited up in every shady tabloid magazine and what painstaking moments I've seen of her new, SOON TO BE HIT, show).
I really feel like I had something substantive to say, but all of these idiots walking around, peering over my shoulder to critique my academia and reprimand me for my computer abuse is really tweaking me out. Where's a good joint when you need one?
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[08 Oct 2008|02:03pm] |
The good thing about the Internet is that every piece of information you'd ever want to know is available to you at your finger tips.
The bad thing about the Internet is that every piece of information you'd ever want to know is available to you at your finger tips.
There's some things people just shouldn't know. I thought I wanted to know everything there was to know in the world; to have some divine knowledge of being and to speak intelligently on all subjects. While it sounds great on paper, the ramifications are terrible. Even the littlest bit of knowledge may be hurtful or upsetting or life ruining.
Thankfully, though, I have expunged the Internet from my life almost completely, which is hilarious considering I pay $40/month for Wireless Internet at my home and $40/month in just data to have an iPhone whose sole purpose, more or less, is to navigate the Internet at will. I feel like I get a lot more done in my day; I literally never stop studying or reading or hanging out with Amanda Maniac, Jess, or Chris D at school. It feels good to not be overwhelmed by classwork. I'm on top of everything. What IS overwhelming is the concept of having to pick another school to go to within the next couple of months. My mind keeps changing. Heck, what I want to do keeps changing. I keep being dragged into this Math direction. I feel like I'm partial to Math because there's only one answer to the problem. I'm tired of being able to choose. I want there to be one answer and I want to be able to derive it and then move onto the next problem.
This is the first time in my life where I feel like I have no control over all situations in my life. The control that I crave and require for survival. It's an awkward feeling; I feel so... human. Normal. I think I've just always been so good at manipulating every situation to get exactly what I want, and now that I actually have to work and to not know if my work is even going to pay off is freaking irritating! This is one of those things that I'd like to know. This doesn't fall under what I was speaking of earlier where people don't have to know everything. I need this. Just one way or the other. What will it be? Where will I be?
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[08 Sep 2008|07:46am] |
Edit: I actually wrote this a few days ago, but keep adding to it. I hate myself for even thinking the MTV VMAs are a big enough deal to warrant a livejournal.com entry, however, I watch them every year and I critique every single celebrity so that I feel better about myself and this year will be no different! Thxxxx!
There is nothing that makes me qualified to write this whatsoever, but I am going to pick apart every aspect of the VMAs that were on last night because it was puke-worthy and I just want to die/cry.
Good
Russel Brand: Only good thing that happened all night if you understood that he was playing the ROLE of an IDIOT; that is not how he REALLY is at all and it was wicked fucking funny and, Jordin SparXXX, you're a complete and total moronic idiot ass mother fucker for not getting that he was J/K-ing about the Jonas Brothers' vow of celibacy!
Paramore: Only decent live performance of the night. I'm 100% biased, because they can do no wrong in my eyes, but, honestly... magical! So good!
Britney Spears: You're a nut, but I can appreciate that. Congrats on your first three "Moon Men" ever. I think a decade was long enough to wait.
Bad
X-Tina: Really?! You've been reduced to lip-syncing? Like... really? What is this world coming to? On top of that, the mix was fucking horrible. Like, so bad. Oh, g0d, I'm dry heaving thinking about it. We have the same hair now, though. I have kind of concocted this conspiracy theory in my mind where it was actually a Christina stand-in last night and not our actual beloved little pop princess. I hope that's what happened, because if that was really you, X-Tine, your thighs look like those of a softball player (ha!), your hair is uglier than ever, and that Zorro mask was in no way, shape, or form trendy. At all.
Tokio Hotel: I've had a huge problem with this fiasco ever since Ashley introduced them to me a couple of months ago. Like, what ARE you?! A girl? With a twin brother? Who has dreads? And you're German but sing in English? Don't get me wrong; we've watched many a youtube.com video of them, but I haven't emerged happy for doing so. Best New Artist Winner? I'm still P.O.ed that Paramore wasn't even nominated in this category. Best New Artist?! I am an avid pop culture connoisseur (maybe not) and I could not sing you one line of any of their songs and I don't know their names and I want to head butt all of them.
John Norris: You're older than my grandparents, dude, but trying to still be hip. I am 95% convinced that you had no idea it was Paramore when you were interviewing them on the red carpet. Isn't it time you collect Social Security and do us all a favor and get out of my life? I watched you when I was, like, nine, man. I think you've overstayed your welcome; you're not cool.
Miley Cyrus and Katy Perry: I mean, Katy Perry was just annoying for the entire night, topped only in annoyingness by twelve year old Miley Cyrus. The fact that they arrived together made me throw up in my mouth just a little, and then both of their respective screen time was just a waste of my life. I hate myself for having had watched them for any amount of time.
The Ting Tings: Again, Ash made me listen to them and watch their vid a couple of months ago, exclaiming, "This will be your new favorite band!" Boy, did you misread that one, McCracken! Not even close to being talented, whatsoever. When I was in pre-school, I got to go into a little room by myself because they thought I was more musically inclined than the other three and four year olds and I learned to play the keyboard and to sing the national anthem and I was probably a better artist at four than they are now. The fact that they were nominated for "Video of the Year" is a reflection of the absolute atrocity the music industry has become.
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[29 Aug 2008|09:01am] |
So, Hudson Valley: Round Three-ish Or So is currently underway. I could literally make this journal purely about all of the idiots I encounter and the conversations I overhear or the pick up lines used on me (which, in and of itself, is absolutely nuts), but I won't because I'll probably vomit or cry in the process of recollecting those traumatic and mind numbing events. I already feel myself getting anxiety and putting undue pressure on myself to be at the top of every single one of my classes. This is nothing new, I just thought that maybe I'd get over it eventually in the world, but I know that's a joke. I'll always be a nut bag when it comes to school, and I guess I just have to resign myself to that.
In other news, and this is getting a little deep for an e-journal, if you have managed to bump into me in the past couple weeks, at any given time, you have seen me at the worst moment of my entire life. Weird, huh? I've been Danni Downer to the extreme lately and I'm working on getting over it by throwing myself into school, but it doesn't help when I just want to die the entire time I am here (oh, I'm in the HVCC library right now). It'll pass. I've gotten an exorbitant amount of quality time with Annie and Ash and have smoked a fair amount of marijuana, so things are bearable. They and I both know what is in the near future, though, which is my total deviation from the outside world where I will lock myself away and watch Law and Order marathons every day and listen to Taking Back Sunday as loud as humanly possible and write angsty blurbs about this piece of shit world (that sounds like a Fiona Apple quote, LOLZ. It's not). I'm fairly predictable and I think they know how to deal with it by now, which is basically as simple as saying, "Danielle, you are a revolting mess. Please take a shower and hang out. You have the potential to look like a girl sometimes." That usually does it.
There's other stuff that I'm trying not to dwell on or even think about, though I can't stop. I'm trying hard to be cool and not overbearing. In the wise words of Ashley McMullen, "Don't be the real you right away. No one likes the real you."
Edit: Wow! I forgot to mention: Annie's father wrote a book and you should buy it because he's awesome! Please, Please Me: Sixties British Pop, Inside Out
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[16 Aug 2008|01:10pm] |
At roughly this time every year, I have a melt down of epic proportions. It's just a typical stop of my Crazy Train Express that I've grown accustomed to and mostly choose to ignore, because there's nothing to really be stressing about. I just feel worthless when I start thinking "I should be entering my senior year of college" or "I should be applying to law schools" or "I should be doing something with my life besides livejournal.com blogging." You get it. It's hard for me to see morons I graduated high school with so close to receiving their collegiate degrees and I'm so off course from where I was supposed to be. Again, though, I'm really good at realizing my shortcomings and awful at doing anything about them. I just want to churn and burn the rest of school out. Get it over with. Marry someone famous. Get full sleeves. Never work again.
Bear with me for a second, because this blew my mind two weeks ago and I want to share my experience. So, I was watching MTV's True Life: I'm Celibate which seemed hilarious and harmless enough and I have no life, so I decided to waste an hour which I will never get back EVER by watching it. About five minutes into it, I was on the verge of tears because, like, WTF! I'll give you a rundown of the three turds they picked to be on this show:
1) Slutty Blonde Skinny Kind of Homely But Probably Looks Good to Drunk Dudes If She Wears a Lot of Make Up College Twat: Has been dating an idiot, frat kid that she met on Spring Break TWO weeks ago. Is a cocktail waitress. Used to be a huge party girl slut. Is not sure if her new found love will keep her if she won't put out SOON!
2) Idiot Ass Puerto Rican Girl That Cheated on Her Boyfriend Once Six Months Ago and Now He is a Fucking Freak and Checks Her Phone and Calls Any Unfamiliar Number Within Moments of Seeing Her: They've been dating for years and were sexually active until she cheated on him, but he took her back, and now refuses to have sex because he is afraid that she has AIDS. They get tested and are both fucking fine!
3) Not Really Attractive Abercrombie-Esque Wholeseome College Dude: Is a model who has to do shoots with beautiful women. Used to be a huge womanizer but then got in a car accident and has dedicated his life to Jesus.
So, what a good freaking mix, right? It was just unbelievable to me. Like, all of them were so adamant about not doing "it" for their own specific reason, but the entire show was the internal struggle with themselves to keep from boning every person they see. IS THIS REALLY AN EPIDEMIC IN AMERICA?! Like, they should have for sure put me on this show. I have absolutely NO back story: I was never a slut, I didn't get in a car accident and become a Christian magically, I don't have AIDS (probably), but I'm not unable to go out in public for fear that my loins will target every weiner in the room. This was literally the most ridiculous shit ever. I turned it off about half way through, so I'm not sure if everyone kept to their vow of purity. My guess, they probably banged a production assistant just to get on the show in the first place.
I hate myself.
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[02 Aug 2008|03:08pm] |
LOLZ, sorry about the last hair post. I remember when I was sixteen and had some sort of scene cred and I used to update roughly once a week with pics of my new "do". I'll stop. There's tons of pics for you to lurk on my facebook.com. There's not so many pictures, but I guess it's of some importance to note that I have a myspace.com again, as well! Have fun with those. SO MANY FORUMS TO FIND ME ON THE INTERNET!
I was going to type a really long and detailed report of LA, but I got bored about 3% of the way through, so I just decided to sum it up with a sentence: "Shit rules." Seeing Annie for the first time in seven weeks was heavenly, Rob Relyea-Hoffman is awesome, and that city was more or less created for me. I'll be back indefinitely, surely.
Nothing else going on, really. I've been hanging out with Ash more than I care to admit, but that ends in 48 hours or so, so I'm enjoying it while I can. Schoolio starts soon and I'm literally dreading walking the mean streets (and by streets, I mean crapily paved sidewalks) of Hudson Valley amidst the slew of 'tards and skanks.
( I lied. A few LA pics for you to be jealous of! )
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[14 Jul 2008|09:36am] |
It is now 9:36 am, Monday July 14, 2008, and I just brushed my hair for the first time since..... Thursday? Mind you, I've showered twice in the meantime.
Also, my manly friend, Shawnthegirl, has a blog that makes me LOL. I think you'll do the same. Also, a ton of anonymous freaks read her shit, and I'm just trying to add to it. I make a cameo in the most recent entry with my intellectual comments about pro-homosexuality in women.
Check it out!
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[13 Jul 2008|10:13am] |
Do you ever drive, like, semi-long distances (I'm talking 30 minutes here) and you get to your destination and you're, like, "HOW THE FUCK DID I GET HERE?! Did I just drive that?! No way!" It's been happening to me roughly... once a day. I've been turning the stereo up to 25 (usually, 20 is my rocking out volume, so imagine the jamming I do at 25) and sing Paramore cover to freaking cover like I've been doing every day for the past eight months (I'm never taking it out. It will be there another eight months. This is not a joke). I remember that show, dang it, what was the name of it? On VH1? Where the people sing on "hidden camera" in their car and then their friends join them and try to make them embarass themselves even more? I don't know the name of it, but I'm glad that's off the air, because I'd for sure be on there, literally screaming the totally meaningful and inspiring words of some 18 year old that probably doesn't know how to spell love (Ashlee Simpson does, though: L-O, L-O, L-O, L-O-V-E).
So, Saratoga County Fair is THIS WEEK! Had no idea it was so soon. That's soon! I want to go every day. No I don't. Well, kind of. It's not even really fun. I can't say going and seeing eighty million people that I recognize from high school and other anonymous 'tards is much fun, either, but I'm excited to go, nonetheless.
This whole L.A. thing is getting to be too much! Like, I've been telling random people that I'm going at totally inappropriate times about my trip. By random people, I totally mean RANDOM people: the cashier at Stewart's, some idiot at Price Chopper, guests at the restaurant. They totally don't care, but I can't stop talking! LaShawn asked if I was going to come back blonde and big breasted, and I said, "No, but I'll probably come back with at least a nose job" and she did the nice thing which is to say, "Why? Your face is perfect" at which point I replied, "MY FACE IS FAT AND FLAT! PEOPLE SAY IT LOOKS LIKE I GOT HIT BY A TRAIN!" and then Robert, a male server who looks like Meat Loaf, kindly chimed in, "No, more of a shovel." I'm the hottest person on the planet.
Writing this entry will now make me minimally five minutes late for work. I hate my job, and I hate you.
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[10 Jul 2008|01:52pm] |
Wow, I have a livejournal.com. Who knew?! I don't read any of yours (actually, Little Rachael, sometimes yours, because you know I have always loved your life) so I don't know what's going on in your lives. Fuck, I don't know what's going on with MY life. I've been home very little lately, which is kind of what the figurative doctor prescribed, I think.
I just looked out the window and the sky is wicked blue and it's a perfect summer day, which undoubtedly means I will be staying inside doing nothing and becoming an even more enormous waste than I already am. NBD. I've been trying to do one Sudoku a day in less than three minutes to stimulate my mind. I then smoke more marijuana than I care to say and totally destroy my mind, so it all evens out in the end, y'know?
I've been thinking about dying a lot lately, and, I don't know.. I just have this feeling that I probably will, too. I'm pretty intuitive about these things. If and when I DO die in the coming months, don't look back on this entry and sob and think of how ironic it was that I mentioned it. Also, don't leave comments about how funny and smart and amazing and unique I was and all of that bullshit. If there's a heaven and if I'm looking down on you when I get there, I'm going to be pissed if you do that.
I'm going to see Annie in L.A. in NINE days! I'm so excited. L.A. has always been this nonexistent dream world and now I am actually going and I am ACTUALLY going to meet and fall in love with, oh... I don't know, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Ryan Phillippe, Luke Wilson. Take your fucking pick. All I know is that I'm going to have some steamy love affair whilst out there and I'm going to take incriminating photos with my iPhone (which, for a phone, has a very good camera, may I add) and then I'll make millions by 1) extorting said celeb for skrilla 2) selling pics to scummy tabloid mags. I'm going to be rich and/or famous and HOPEFULLY tan by the time I get back.
There are so many things I want to do this summer and it seems like it's just dwindling away. Saratoga County Fair. Track. BBQs. Camp. Bon fires. Obscene amounts of illicit substance consumption. Also, buy my iPhone from me. It sucks. Except for the camera.
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| myspace.com rant. |
[21 Jun 2008|11:01am] |
(I already posted this on the space but, Andrea: don't get mad, I'm deleting it right now, and I just wanted my words to live on forever in livejournal.com infamy.)
I mean, my distaste with this internet phenomenon is not exactly hidden. I will tell anyone and everyone that I think this contraption is the bane of our existence. People committing suicide on live webcam for all of their e-Friends to see?! This is the norm! And myspace.com is the gateway drug.
But, here's my real problem with the whole thing: People still expect annonymity after signing up for a sketchy and idiotic website where the only real point is to have your friends comment on your pictures and say, "YOU ARE SO HOT AND SKINNY AND YOUR CLOTHES ARE SO AWESOME AND YOU ARE SO COOL" or to comment on your comments and say "OH MY GOD WE WERE SO WASTED LAST NIGHT I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER LIKE ANY OF IT WE HAVE SO MUCH FUN WE ARE BEST FRIENDS BECAUSE WE GOT DRUNK TOGETHER ONCE AND I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE DONE SOMETHING THAT I WILL REGRET INCLUDING MILD PETTING BUT WHATEVER I LOVE TO PARTYYY!" I hate you all. If you're going to post a comment, a public one, for the world to see, don't make it something idiotic. Contribute something to this world.
Lastly, and most importantly, private profiles? Really? Like, you think people or exes or whomever REALLY wants to see your profile SO BAD that you just can't allow it? Hey, moron, that's not it at all. Freaks like me NEED to see your profile. It's what I do. I am home all day waiting for my man to swoop me into his arms and call me sweet names. I thrive on looking at people and judging them on solely their choice of photo selection for their myspace.com profile. If your profile is private, I can not judge you and criticize your every flaw and feel better about myself afterwards. DO THE WORLD A FUCKING FAVOR: MAKE YOUR PROFILE PUBLIC.
And, then, after you DO make your profile public, don't make it so g0d damn hard to, like, post comment or say something about a picture. I have to type random code in and give your last name and bull shit?! NO! I just want to leave a comment. I went through all of the trouble of actually thinking of a comment, writing it down, revising it a couple of times, I am all ready to fucking send it, but I have to type in some random letters and shit and you have to approve it? NO! Here's an idea: only add people who won't say retarded crap. Like, if you just KNOW someone is going to say something that's totally embarassing and unwarranted, then, just Deny their friend request. Dude, my brain hurts.
READ A BOOK!
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