well, i guess we didn't have to kill her; don't feel so bad, though

my dad wants me to apply at temp agencies, despite the fact the parents of my babysitting demons want to pay me nearly $300 to house sit for the month of july. so, that's what i'm doing tomorrow, besides tshirts and contemplating a) swimsuits (target), b) cds (online), and c) shoes (department store only!).

went for smoothies and watching moulin rouge, which i'd never seen, at house of brooke with my high school clique. it was nice, though i feel disconnected from a lot of them now. re mr: that movie has a great plot. and by great i mean "not that great." however, it was very entertaining, and nicole kidman's perfection was enthralling and at times even offputting with the white and red and the bruised hollows around her eyes and the "sweat" (ie water sponged on top of grease makeup) on her face. ok, well, very rarely offputting. i admit she's gorgeous.

then driving back, turned from top 40 to hip hop at the first detectable strains of enrique iglesias (retch). heard the following rhyme pair of lines: "all close together like school lockers; [something] women who love ballers." and i wonder: ok, it's not like it's really improvisational. so why would you write rhymes that, well, DON'T RHYME? it's not like it's artistic licence, or one of those songs or poems where it really doesn't matter. it's rap with no content but sex and hardly even that!

it's not really 1:11, it's really midnight; my posts have been wrong all day; i'm in central time again, and my computer doesn't know it (though i've reset it twice, stupid little fucker). so, see, i was back by midnight. our wild parties. oh, though, i did have a lemon-lime-apple smoothie with some heavy/cheap white wine in. it was really gross, though, and i only sipped it a bit.

you look her in the eye and watch her cry
my mouth went dry

i had the very strange dream...

that i was in a class taught by my high school chemistry teacher, located very close to a waterfall, and that my best friend (guinevere33, that is) and i were in two different groups, competing to see who could more quickly dress a blow-up doll in a homemade satin ballgown. hers was black with red/orange iridescent beading and min e was navy blue, and even though they were pretty much identical due to the pattern, for some reason the chemistry teacher vastly preferred hers.

day to date:

i lounged in bed late and failed once again to fix the clock. showered and used four different hair products with the hope that i'd feel pampered. instead, when i was finishing scrunching it in front of the mirror, i was overcome with one of those shudders of loathing where i didn't even want to see myself, and i'm not sure why--not loathing for myself, you understand, just massive uncomfortableness. anyway, i had brunch (raisin cinnamon bread, butter, honey, parmesan goldfish crackers and mint tea) and my medicine, but i still don't feel better. i want to curl up somewhere quiet and cover my head up. i want to have my dog there with me, and i want him to curl up next to my leg or behind my knee or under my arm like a teddy bear. i don't want him to steal the bed, though. ...my hair does look pretty good, i suppose.



candy is sweet but honey is sweeter
it tastes like the real thing but
candy is much much cheaper

let me wipe those tears away
my baby, it's only
rain

everything is hot and sticky but it's okay
i'm still sleeping anyway

(no subject)

i feel daring, which means i think i'm going to attack a black dress i never wear with scissors. see, this dress is meant to be ankle-length, but it's for people with short legs. i never wear it because it hits at just the wrong length and also because it's black with giant blue lillies on it. anyway, the print is pretty, if the cut is boring, and what better occasion for such a dress than a funeral? (the odds are good i'll be going to one next weekend.) i'm thinking, chop off the opaque underdress at hip length, slit the rayon up to the hip on one side, make a band into a long scarfy waistband and turn the bottom into a wrap skirt with long trailing scarfy ends. am not sure about the logistics, though. must ponder more. rayon unravels v/ quickly, but is it really worth the trouble to double-hem everything if i'm only planning to wear it once? is it even acceptable to wear an unhemmed dress for your great-grandmother's funeral?

also, i successfully resisted the urge to buy a cute little denim bag. it took about twenty minutes, but i survived. also, did not get a swimsuit, which is probably just as well.

(no subject)

i think i'm a naturally irritable person. does anyone else just get in these moods where all of a sudden EVERYTHING is irritating? like, i'm annoyed about the temperature, the stuff i have to do, the fact i haven't done it, the fact that my dad doesn't pressure me more, i'm annoyed when my parents are affectionate, i'm annoyed that my hair doesn't dry the way i want it to, i'm annoyed that my sister stays home sick and then wants to monopolize the tv and use the computer (and i didn't let her, so i don't know why i should be annoyed by that, but there you have it). i'm annoyed by the cats, by the prospect of making my own food, by my friends in real life though i've missed them all year. thank god for the internet. escape! escape is wonderful.

my mouth is clean, my hands are dirty

i watched the buffy finale. as i don't usually watch buffy, i have nothing in particular to say about it and certainly am not going to spoil anyone. the writing, in general, reminds me a bit of mercedes lackey, not to be too insulting to it (it's bad for novels, but a bit above average, perhaps, for tv). the dialogue is wittier, yes, but it's got a lot of the same feel and same sort of plot. anyway. was entertained.

my stomach hurts. i think i'm getting the sickness my sister had. my dad says he already has it. greeeeeaaaaat. if i throw up i'm going to be SO pissed.