esta blanca cabecita que yo tengo como un racimo entre mis manos

tomorrow is The Day With Mom. i'm not sure what we're going to do--i probably really can't afford to go shopping, but i'm thinking that's what it'll be anyway. i don't feel like movie-watching. i haven't been anywhere in. yeh. a long while. atlanta is 3.5 hours, i think. eh. is it worth it? maybe just birmingham. although the thought of the mall there makes me tired.

so question. when you're pregnant does that automatically make you a lady? and when you're married, automatically a ma'am?

heh.

the new and improved

i haven't read any cartercest or twincest, but the idea that those fandoms exists amuses me. you know, it's like there's a plus side and a minus side on the giant blackboard of how much the universe sucks right now.

in elementary school, it was the happy board and the sad board, with the names of boys who pull hair on the sad side and the teachers and the girls who played clapping games on the happy side (now little boys who pull hair are the cutest, the absolute highlight of my existence, and boring little girls who suck up to teachers annoy the fuck out of me).

and as a grown-up, it's like: scary motherfucking otp'ers in lotr rps on the sad board along with dubya, fire ants, and people who won't smile back on the street when you make eye contact by accident.

incestual relationships on the happy board. with summer thunderstorms, best friends and good stuff like neverending unconditional love--which feels, i tell you, more fantastic to give than to receive. also with towels fresh from the dryer. tall glasses of tap water. the first bite of still-hot homemade chocolate pudding.

my knees hurt from sitting like a frog all day and there are some people on the radar i wouldn't mind shellacking and backing over with a combine, but all in all, it's been a pretty good day.

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my back hurts, my puppy dog adores me to pieces, and 'iain' is a freaky spelling of 'ian' which i dislike intensely.

i had a weird dream. locked in a large bathroom at a fancy hotel with, erm, a guy (my... fiancée?) and a lesbian couple (computer programmer/circus performer) and a little girl. and there was a hurricane outside.

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i think it's probably good for you to hate things.

::hatehatehates them::

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i'm a girl scout. i never really think much about this, but i was when i was painting the bookshelves the other day. i mean, i despise cheerleaders, sure, and i've never been to one of those high school parties where everyone gets drunk in the wilderness, and my friends didn't even have them (it was getting drunk at karti's house, thank you, and i did not go).

but like. senior girl scout with gold award, valedictorian, president of two honor societies, member of three, youth ambassador in the sister city delegation and then again in this, erm, nationwide youth-for-understanding thing sponsored by some various departments of the japanese government. various and sundry writing and art awards. i mean, it really kind of baffles me. sure, i'm used to thinking of myself as better than everyone else. and who isn't? but then again, i also think of myself as lazy. i mean, no, i am lazy. i always came home and read slash until i didn't feel like reading it anymore before i did anything else. i, um, didn't want to do my homework, although i usually did finish it. i only wrote what i felt like writing. i pissed my teachers off regularly because when the english teacher was making up meaning in literature, i told her so.

i mean, my point is, though, that i'm really sort of dismayingly vanilla, conformist, and all-american, no matter how i like to think of myself.

i've never even blown up a park bench.

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guinevere33, psp hates me, and my head hurts from hitting it with my hands when i lose the partially completed files, so i may never finish the icon you requested.

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the day with mommy was gainfully spent and we looked at bathroom tile a bit and did a lot of not very much, otherwise. but we did find a shop that sold, in addition to funny sticky notes ('sarcasm is just one of the services i provide,' 'a day without sunlight is like... night,' 'women to be considered half as competent as men must be twice as good. fortunately, this is not difficult') and a stuffed dragon, had some notebooks i wanted to buy. one was a b/w photo of a plane from, um, some time not now, that said 'welcome to alabama--please set your clocks back six years.' my favorite old picture inside recaptioned was of a pinup girl leaning on a tractor. 'exotic corn-fed princess seeks lipstick motorbyke dyke. no bi's or butches need apply.'

rock on.

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i dislike icons narrower than 100 pixels.

thank you.

that is all.

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my back hurts.

ow. motherfucker.

it's supposed to be automatic, but actually you have to push this button.

i used to jump up whenever i heard the phone ring, like pre-programmed. i think i got in the habit when i was dating the ex in 8th grade (quite a long time ago, there), because i didn't want, er, someone else to answer the phone? well, talking to his dad was pretty bad (and don't you hate that, you call for someone and their dad sounds like darth vader?). so maybe that's it.

anyway, going to sleep at 6 pm today seems to have flipped the switch or something, because all of a sudden the phone's ringing and it doesn't even occur to me to get up. it's like when the timer goes off. you hear it but it doesn't register, and the next thing you know, the cookies are burning. just sort of my brain going, 'gee golly that's noisy! hm. i wish someone would get the phone. i wonder what they're doing. huh. the phone just rang... and no one got it yet... oh...'

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i'm rereading this now when i just read it for the first time a couple of weeks ago.

it's the fandom, man. has me doing crazy crazy things.

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chicken nuggets... were a mistake. i now feel like throwing up. oh, THANKS.

you don't show much these days

i didn't buy the shoes today, but i'm now burning up with the need for new sneakers. i seriously think i may hurt myself if i don't get some soon. i may be going to the mall tomorrow.