i just ate...

i just ate one too many flavored tootsie candies. now i feel like a multi-flavored vomit bag. only i can't seem to vomit. so maybe i am just multi-flavored. hmmmmm. not bad....well, today i finally finished cleaning my way too small apartment, which is GOOD, but the PATHETIC thing is, it took me 5 days to clean the entire apartment. i am so lazy, i cannot clean more then 1 room per day. and i have to skip one day in between each cleaning day, so, in conclusion, it takes me 5 days to clean 3 rooms, therefore, i AM a loser.then i decided i needed to get my new love interest home: granola. yes, i am in deep, passionate love with granola now. but on my way to get my lover, i ran into a cool clothing shop across the street from my apartment, and the nicest, finest looking shirt in the display window caught my eye. it was love at first sight, and instead of saving 30 bucks for my night out tonight, i yanked the shirt on my back. when i realized i had less money than i thought as i paid the 30 bucks at the register, i could really see that i would have very little money left for tonight, but i still didn't care. i just don't care enough about anything or anyone besides myself. sorry.when i got home and greedily slammed the granola and tootsie candies in my mouth, i pondered some more about it, and decided i just may not end up going out tonight after all. even though my new mint-green lace shirt would look hot for a night out on the town, i just don't feel like showering or doing my hair, or really much of anything. it IS my friend's birthday, and i missed his birthday last year too, so i really SHOULD go, but i dunno if i want to. i did, after all, take his photographs the other week, and he told me how wonderful they turned out, how his friends and professor thought they were amazing, and i was quite flattered, BUT when i asked to have copies since i was the one who designed and took the pictures, he said okay, and of course as usual forgets to bring them to me yesterday. i could really use those motherfuckers for my portfolio.... fuck.why is everyone in my way of being successful? i am sick of you!

i don't kno...

i don't know what to do tonight.... i am too lazy to pick up my phone and call anyone, not to mention i don't like calling people in general anyway.i went out last night, went to 2 clubs, both clubs were eh. but some guy who was okay looking wants to take me out to ice cream tomorrow. i doubt that will happen, i just find his laugh a little unnerving.... i thought i gave him a fake number, but i was too high and drunk to think clearly so it seems i gave him a real number, as he called me already today, early. this new trend with men calling the day after they meet you, in the MORNING especially, is starting to creep me out. whatever happened to games, plains, and automobiles?games make you tougher, even if they suck at times. they make you tough, baby. gotta kick your own ass or no one else will.but i have to admit being told you are beautiful is always nice. some model scout spotted me in the club, gave me 2 invitation cards to a modeling event which promotes models. it is supposed to be held next friday, plus 2 more fridays over the next 2 months. i know all this is bullshit anyway, just a bunch of lingo and lines to get people to "think" they are models when indeed they are probably just bimbos paying to be models, but the fact that i got these 2 invites and not all the other girls did gives me an ego boost, i hate to admit. but why not go? maybe i can pretend to be a model too. but if i have to pay money to pretend to be a model, i will decline. no thanks. i am broke, if i am on the runway, i get paid. i used to model when i was a kid, for children's furniture ads and for other photo shoots for this professional photographer in boston. and i got paid. now that's hot.so what?i wish a beauty queen would be my slave.

i walk into you

i am spacy, sassy.... want new shoes, wanting it alli have absolutely no love interests.... and tis' good.i love it this way. i live for this shit. no worries, no fears, no cares.

her name

i don't like you.

not tired

still up, my roommate is still sleeping, but was on the phone with her ex, pacing the apartment for an hour, i don't care really but i do know one thing and that is do NOT keep in touch with ex-es. never. that leads to utter and complete sorrowful hell. i don't keep in touch with any ex-es except for david. and the only reason i keep in touch with david is because i have known him for 10 years, he saw me go through adolescence, i mean, shhhiiiiit. my roommate needs to cut the fucker lose. let him find someone else to sadistically embrace and ultimately confuse. i hate boyfriends. they ruin your social life. and my happiness comes first, he ha.i visited my close friend amy tonight. our visits are so....i can hear my roommate peeing, not what i'd rather hear right now. she is still in the bathroom ten minutes later, is she dead? i hope not. nah, she is probably shitting. sexy. i hate the sun. i want beauty, i want to overwhelm.

wireless network connection is fickle.....!

my wirleless connection is not being very consistent so the only place i can operate online right now in my entire apartment is in my bathroom, on the tiolet. i cannot even move anywhere or it won't work, have to use it on my toilet. very odd. can't go to my room cuz it don't want to work there, my roommate is already sleeping so i can't, like normal people, use my own living room since she is ALL OVER the couch, so here i am, on my toilet. and i don't even have to use the bathroom. and i could be out right now, at a bar with work people, if only i had 3 dollars times ten.i feel so bad.... ever since this co-worker had a seizure, every time i go to work i snap at at least one person. i am pms-ing, though, and i am going through some real shit right now (money problems, new york city problems, friends being assholes, roommate being a cunt, grandma gone) so i have my reasons, but it's still no excuse. i need to lighten up. but i hate being a hostess. i am trying to find a new job where i won't have to feel defensive every time a manager walks by, but i need an art job, not a restaurant job where i fold fucking chopsticks. fuck, i hate this job so much i am getting pissed off just thinking about it!!!!!!i want to move out of this city right now. if i had two thousand bucks, i would literally leave this second. i really just hate how redundant things are. and the folding of the chopsticks is the perfect anecdote here.the funny thing is i really don't care, i have lost almost all my compassion. ha ha, not really. it must be the book i am reading. or the pms.kiss me, even though i'm not irish.

saturday hey

today i ran around the city like a chicken with my head cut off. i walked so much that my feet actually feel more muscular, and it is bitter cold out.hung with new friend girl, she is cool. i want a job, she could hook me up, but i don't think she necessarily will. she wants to, but she acted weird about it later on in the day.... great! now i can stay at big bowl and be even more miserable.then i hung with steven. went to a play and had dinner, sushi actually. the play was dumb. overly artsy fartsy-conscious and pretensious. the drama people tried too hard with this one. then again i hate plays. i hate live acting. i pretended to be amused (in order to be polite) even though the end turned out exactly how i predicted it would, and i hate that. he went to a party afterwards, and i said my farewells. i was bored of all the drama.now i am at home with my roommate and her cousins, watching "the devil's advocate," wishing i had something better to do, like go to a club and meet some funky spunk, but lets leave it at that. i DON'T want you following me home.