femmealunettes: (listening. mostly. : Chuck)
I have got to figure out how to get some satisfaction out of my days. I know that sometimes I go to bed feeling like I haven't completely wasted all of my time, but it feels like that hasn't happened in a while. Like, weeks.

Well, I looked really cute for a few hours today. That's not much, but I guess it's something.

I finally unhooked my microphone from Arthur and now I have it hooked up to Chuck and I'm ready to start recording all my Sweet Charity podfics, finally. The first one I'm doing is barely fanfiction, it's all original characters, just set in the Supernatural universe. I just have to... you know, stop being apathetic, because that really comes across in my voice when I am unimpressed with myself and the world. People deserve a little enthusiasm from me, even if I have to make myself excited about something else and piggyback onto that enthusiasm. (Which, to be clear, usually I do not. I generally like doing podfics. I generally select the stories I want to read myself, though.)

My dad told me a couple of days ago that I had better start packing my room up because when I leave for Wells he's going to move a TV in here and turn my room into his personal hangout. I probably shouldn't feel as betrayed and upset about this as I do. I mean, it only makes sense to put the room to use if I'm not going to be here.... I need to start figuring out what I'm not going to watch in the next two years so I can box it up. And I have to figure out what I want to take with me when I move onto campus. I'm thinking, the book and movie equivalents of comfort food, because I am probably going to end up staving off tears more than once by pretending the real world doesn't exist for a couple of hours.

How's that for positive thinking?

I'm probably going to make a music post later. I enjoy the feeling of futility I get from doing them. As long as I don't actually look at the numbers on Mediafire, I can pretend people are downloading them and just not saying anything.

that green-eyed monster

  • Jan. 10th, 2009 at 2:37 PM
femmealunettes: (can we fix it? NO! it's fucked!)
My dad always says (jokes around, but not really) that Julia is his favorite. And I know, everyone is important and stuff.

But Julia just got a 120GB iPod. Mine is 60GB and filled to capacity. I don't even know if she knows enough of anything to use up 120 gigs.

*sigh* I am such a covetous bitch. But I have to fill that sexy silver baby for her, and god, it's so beautiful...

Oh, and to top it off, my dad came in and was like "ooh, your phone is nicer than mine, I might take it." And I KNOW that was a joke but, come on, you can only mock a geek with technology so much in one day before she breaks down in tears.

Okay, I suck, moving on.

HEY NEW FRIENDS, do any of you have Twitters? Add me! I am speccygeekgrrl there as I am just about everywhere. \o/

I still have Christmas cards to send out. I think today instead of writing, I am going to make jewelry to go in the cards (yeah, that's the special thing, secret's out) and have them good to send for Monday.

HEY PEOPLE WHO GOT CARDS FROM ME. I want to see pics of you wearing the jewelry, bitches! Unless you don't like it, in which case... I'm sorry.

Ohmygod, so down on myself now, LAME. I will treat myself with an extra episode of So NoTORIous, because it brings the lulz, and lulz make me feel better.

bitch bitch bitch

  • Nov. 17th, 2006 at 11:40 AM
femmealunettes: (crashing and bad things : Mac ads)
Right now I do believe I want to punch someone in the face.

I just... am so full of MAD right now. My sister pissed me off by being, basically, her stupid stoner selfish self, so now she's pissed back at me for getting mad at her. My dad is pretty much the least communicative boss ever. I fucked up something about the kettle schedules so I have suddenly about, uh, 80 more man-hours that need to be filled for next week. (read: I am fucked)

I'm coughing more, and it hurts, and I am tired, and too hot one minute and too cold the next, and my iPod is in the red and will probably die before I leave today, and I'm running out of hot chocolate mix, and my office smells like dirty old guy because that's who keeps coming in to talk to me, and HOW COME I CAN BE SICK AND STILL SMELL BAD THINGS?!

And I want to rip someone's head off.

I need a Barbie doll, or one of these home-schooled Aryan toddlers walking around this building is going to be going home in pieces. I HATE SMALL CHILDREN. GET OUT.

... -_-;

Mmm, tastes like heartbreak.

  • Feb. 14th, 2006 at 2:30 PM
femmealunettes: (I ate him and I'll eat you too : Skifree)
Shall we count the ways I hate today? Keep in mind I woke up half an hour ago.

  • Had a dream about a guy I thought I could have loved. My family went to his family's house, for some reason, and my father hit his father with a frying pan. Big chase scene, etc; when we were all finally at the police station, he pulled me aside and we had a little conversation about how we were doing out of college, whether we were really okay or just faking it. By the end of the conversation, the police station had turned into Borders and I stayed putting away CDs as he walked away without even a goodbye.

    I don't even know.

  • Papercut. On my tongue. OW.

  • Plow trucks. Hate them.

  • My dad is upstairs, so I'm scared to go get anything to eat.

  • I am an attention whore and no one seemed to like my music. But no one says anything about anything I do, so I shouldn't be taking it out on Valentine's Day.

  • General angriness re: I think I'm okay with being single until V-Day rolls up, fuck you Hallmark for making me even unhappier again.

So in short: Fuck today, I'm going to go take a shower.

Oct. 28th, 2005

  • 2:01 AM
femmealunettes: (will you love me if I'm a mess?)
Cords, a sweater, a shirt. Gloves. Smelly pretties, roll-on oil aromatherapies, so obvious but never called on it. A necklace, some stickers, candy.

More and more trivial every time.

I should make my little brother get an LJ. He always has the funniest stories to tell, or maybe I just think so. Still. A bank error in his favor today; he's getting a new job at the 99. Bartending.

We did bong hits in the mall parking lot, him and me and George. Giggling. Then went in and stole from Old Navy. I looked more tired than stoned, more stupid than anything. I feel stupid all the time these days, trivial and stupid. And none of my efforts to make things better matter for shit, apparently, brushed off for LJ drama and I'm just starting more.

Oh, god, I hate myself when I'm passive-aggressive.

Tomorrow I have to call a lady at the Bursar's office. Should have done it months ago. "no, I'm not attending class, yes I will be once I'm not crazy anymore, no I'm not getting help, sorry." Self medication, I should be able to write off Dennis's bong hits as a medical expense, perks me up for a little while. Makes it seem like maybe I won't have to kill myself come January when I'm still here, still working at the SA and living in my parents' house and still a total, miserable, lonely fuckup.

And THAT is why I can't put up with myself past this time of night, past this point of exasperation with people. Because annoyance becomes guilt becomes self-loathing. And man, do I have a fuckton of transubstantiated self-loathing to chew on now. YAY.

Trivial. Bean knowledge, a la Osaka.


  • Oct. 26th, 2005 at 10:01 AM
femmealunettes: (there is truth and love is real)
You know what I hate more than snow?

Snow that doesn't even have the BALLS to work up to a school cancellation. If you're going to make me miserable, at least give me something back for it, you know?

But no. I get to spend all day suffering through my cramps at work after slogging through the snow to get there. -_- I'm still tired, goddammit, and I did all the backlog of work yesterday. Oh, wait, but Erika's not in today... fuck. I have no one to pass calls off to. And my dad isn't going to be in, obviously; he's still snoring in his room.

ARGH ARGH ARGH. *headdesk*

In other news, I think I'm finally taking Megatokyo off my webcomics routine. I just can't deal with the plotline with no resolution. And, by the way, fuck the sad girls in snow. NO LOVE.

femmealunettes: (you have got to be kidding me.)
If you see this, quote Shakespeare. Or tell him to go shake his spear elsewhere.

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
the appetite may sicken, and so die.

-Duke Orsino, Twelfth Night

I WANT MY MUSIC. ;_; I got the iPod update last night, flashed the firmware this morning, and had to leave Anderson filling himself back up with yummy yummy music. My mom said she'd bring him over when she came in an hour later... well, it's been three hours, and I HATE not having music. Sad, sad puppyface.

And my BPAL didn't come in today, either. ;_; I almost cried at the mailman. He said it'll be in tomorrow, probably. I thik he was just patronizing me. >_>

But on the plus side, yay paycheck! And yay Corpse Bride! And yay sunny day, yay my dad being proud of me for going on my booky walk yesterday, yay for apples with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on for breakfast.

....and I'm spent. xD Today = boring so far.

Persephone descending...

  • Sep. 22nd, 2005 at 2:12 AM
femmealunettes: (DIE. : Reservoir Dogs)
would be a good title for something. I should run with it. I haven't indulged my mythology habit in too long.

I should hit the library. Grab some myth books, some Ginsberg and Eliot and something deep and incomprehensible I can force myself to have to focus on, something dense and looping around itself until it's hung with its own words.

I don't know what to do with words anymore. Most of mine seem to be lies, happy fronts when I just want to lash out with them and drive people away. And I don't know why I don't, because the ones I want to keep near me, I don't want to lash out at in the least. Just the people I should have cut ties with ages ago, the ones I have nothing in common with, the ones that make me feel angry just to think about. but I'm not the kind of person to lash out, so I'm sinking with these albatrosses around my neck, too scared to cut the damn things off.

God, fuck this timidity so much. I wish I was half as brave on the outside as I am in my head. I never would get into these retarded positions if I just spoke up and said "fuck off" once in a while when I meant it and not just joking around with the people I actually care about.

Also, I am a hypocrite and a bitch, and I'm starting to enjoy that. So. I don't know. Where do I stop being nice and start being a coward? I would take my bravery back at the cost of my niceness. Because being nice just gets you stepped on, and fuck that.

I just miss being able to sit in a room and focus on what people are saying. I feel like such a jerk because I'm a space case whenever I go out with Kristin and Amber and they deserve better of me than absent-mindedness and the constant "what?" I miss Kierstin and Carol and Maggie.

Today was okay. I'm still all worn out and stressy, all breakouts and oily hair and bleh. And I feel bleh. I want it to be November or at least not this week any more. I would like to skip the next 24 hours and go right to payday, to movie day, to sit-around-and-rp-until-ridiculous-o'clock day. Or right up to November and being on the greyhound heading south, the big event of my fall.

I'm just fed up and mean and annoyed at myself for not growing a pair and just getting rid of these life-sucking weeds strangling me out. People lead to stress lead to more stress lead to ranty self-accusatory hate-filled LJ posts, lather rinse repeat.

So in better news, I might be getting BPAL tomorrow. And today I got a nifty grey zip-hoodie from Old Navy, where I never shop, but it's soft and warm so yays. And I'm totally getting another one of the awesome hats via [livejournal.com profile] garbarella's talented fingerses, which I am excited about, and I should take pictures wearing the ones I have because hey, happy customer things are good for selling more things. (If any of you like awesome floppy hats, hit that lady up. I adore my berettamsnoods!)

And, um, Lost: I totally called it. Now let's quit with the Jackbacks and get with the OTHER plotlines.

CSI tomorrow! And OC, which I missed last week, and oh please you mean Ryan and Marissa haven't done it yet? Yeah, that's believable. I so need to catch up with that whole show. Like everything from 01x04 on. :D I am such the loser. YAY TV.


  • Sep. 20th, 2005 at 11:16 AM
femmealunettes: (never coming home : MCR)
I overslept and had a fucked up nightmare/dream where I missed my aunt's wedding and found my Poppy's grave. So, yes, not pleasant.

and the oversleeping part just... now I have to stay at work until 3, and I'm in a miserable mood, and I'm still all broken out and just sore. My hands are shaking. So, yeah, not good or fun or any kind of wanting to even be alive right now.

So i'm just burying myself in work, even though I did most to all of it yesterday. And my website, because it's something I can just focus on. And I have to call the therapist to schedule an appointment, Or rather, I just did that, and I fucking hate answering machines, I'm such a retard, I hate myself. The doctor's going to think I'm retarded or something.

-_- One of those days. Please, please, please, someone shoot me in the head.

I lost my head

  • Sep. 20th, 2005 at 1:53 AM
femmealunettes: (thinking chair!)
So apparently when I make a big everything post, no one reads it. Or I stand alone with no commentary needed. So, for anyone who missed it last time, I'm trimming down my flist a bit-- some people who never post, some people who post a lot and I feel stupid for just skimming all the time, some people who just bore me. (Okay, one person. Insert stuck-out tongue here.) You know how often I make locked posts (i.e. never), so it's not like I'm shutting anyone out, I just think it's retarded to have a huge flist and skim so much every day. (My goal is to get back down to 100 people, honestly. And maybe back to like 30 communities.) So, it's not you, it's me.

That said. I am so nauseous right now. I'm just entirely stressed out for no reason at all except these obsessive little fears eating my head. I'm so stressed i"m breaking out. That's pretty goddamn stressed, and it's making me sick. On the plus side, I have the number of a therapist and I'm going to call and try to set up an appointment tomorrow. (also the DVR thing. eep.) But right now, sick and feeling gross and strung out. Ugh.

Got a bunch of BPAL in today-- Dragon's Milk, which is cinnamony warm deliciousness, Dorian, which omg nosegasm so good, Persephone, which is beautifully tangy and rosey, and Venom which makes me want to gag and I bet I could sell on eBay for a decent amount. *nods* Because it's discontinued and I think it's disgusting. But people have to smell it first. So.

I've been working on a site for my characters, to kind of parallel [livejournal.com profile] _angsty's Character Collective, and I finished the imageside of the site today. :D Now I just have to do all the text. I'm almost totally done with one character's page, only 11 to go! :D :D :D

I have no initiative. I think I need to be put on amphetamines or something. :D :D :D Yay productivity through drug use! :D :D :D

....yeah. Gonna go stare at the ceiling now.

Oh, wait. Today there was a couple in my office from that town in Mississippi that got wiped off the map. Gulfport? Yeah, Gulfport. And they were just... so chill, incredibly nice and still able to smile and laugh and I don't know how they do it, but I hope if I'm ever in a situation like that I can still go on without just turning into a shell. because I think I would, but seeing them made me hope a little.

Now, I'll go.
femmealunettes: (it is impossible to say just what I mean)
Still in a bad mood, and nobody cares, woo! Let's see, what can I blame it on this time that isn't the actual problem. It's probably hormones, or I'm not getting enough sun. maybe my diet's all wrong. Or, oh, I haven't used family tension in about a week, let's blame that.

*bites heads off of things*

So Dory has a doctor's appointment this afternoon. And I have to cover for her at the thrift store until 5. So before 1, I have to finish (or at least start) a whole new round of form-letter thank-yous for Katrina donations, and then I get another three hours tacked onto my workday. I need to run home and grab my headphones and a book so i can even pretend to survive that.

Also, it's 90 degrees and the fan here has to stay here, so I'm going to bake while I'm at the store. Joy.

Yay for plans getting trashed. Maybe I can beg my dad to not have to pay him back part of the money he gave me last week for covering this today. (Can't hurt to ask, right?)

In better news, my new shoes are comfortable, the new Franz Ferdinand CD is hot as hell, and Prison Break is on tonight. So, um, yay.

almost feels like a gun...

  • Sep. 12th, 2005 at 2:07 AM
femmealunettes: (domo-kun says fuck)
Ah, my cricket. It was so quiet in Maine. I think the crickets were breeding in the house while we were gone. Where's your good luck now, bitch? *cricket-killing spree*

Saw The 40-Year Old Virgin tonight. Verdict: I am four years old and/or have spent too much time recently with my very easily amused family. Steve Carell is adorable. Maybe it was my headache. Or maybe I just really think dick jokes are funny. I don't know.

Whatever, most sympathetic main character I've seen in a long time. I'll probably end up like that when I'm 40, minus the actual virginity. Close enough. Probably less nice than that, actually. Whatever.

My dad is doing that whole "maybe you should think about the people that are keeping you down" thing again. Like I need this on top of everything.

I don't know, I'm just not in a good mood. I'm twenty and I can't act my age, I just want to call it quits on reality and sit here all day and roleplay because I'm a fucking depressive escapist loser. I don't know what kind of company my dad thinks I should be keeping. Whatever.

Ugh. Sleep > life. Bed now kthx.

(I don't use this icon nearly enough.)

(just because it's not shared doesn't mean it's worthless. must learn this. eventually will.)

today I fell and felt better

  • Sep. 9th, 2005 at 4:37 AM
femmealunettes: (that look : Prison Break)
Okay. Freak-out over. Packed, breathing, almost calm again. (still a little mad.)

I actually cleaned my purse, which, wow, never happens, but it's all neat and functional and ready for the addition of a book and my iPod and I'm good to go for the weekend. I packed one bag, all functional, jeans I'll wear twice, one long-sleeve shirt and one short-sleeve, and a skirt and pinstriped shirt for the wedding itself. And pajamas. And undies. Yay for undies. No makeup, even, just deodorant and BPAL and a hairbrush. I feel so functional, not in that I work, but in that I'm at least not bogged down with useless stuff. (okay, I packed 6 imps and 4 lip glosses, but I don't know what I'll be in the mood for.)

Oh, I just got a plan. When Julia or Rachael asks to use my iPod, I'll say no and laugh at them for breaking/not charging theirs. And then I'll turn up something obnoxiously good like Scissor Sisters or MCR or AAR, and rock out and ignore them. BECAUSE IT'S FUN TO BE MEAN! :D :D :D

or because I'm spiteful and they're ungrateful, either or.

I'm considering taking Smoke and Mirrors, the compilation of Neil Gaiman's short stories, and writing one thing for everything in that compilation, whether it's a poem in the same style or a story inspired by it. If nothing else, it'll keep me busy in the car and shut me up about not writing anything.

And, woo, I can feel myself getting sick, it always happens before long car rides but I also blame the soup-kitchen lunches. Fuck. Bring on the fever and nausea! Woo! (I haaaate my body so much la la la. oh yeah, my mom wants to put me and my dad on a diet! WHEE AGAIN!)

So, um, quitting the bitching, bed now, at least I got stuff done. Now for, um, five hours of sleep holy fuck spiders I HATE spiders eewwwww get away from my computer you eight-legged fuck.

bed now. ew. if I can sleep. ew ew ew.

*insert exploding head here*

  • Sep. 9th, 2005 at 3:01 AM
femmealunettes: (will you love me if I'm a mess?)
Wow. Oh man. I love how I can think everything is going okay and then BAM a whole load of stuff just drops on me like one of those 100-ton anvils from Monty Python. Squish.

So right now my dad is pissed at me because it's 3 AM and I'm not in bed, and I won't wake myself up in the morning, which is really fucking something coming from him because he knows exactly where I get my insomnia from (it's hereditary, like most of my mental issues, and my mom is pretty sound asleep right now), and his ass is never out of bed before 10:30, and just RRRGH. STABBYFACE. So he's mad at me.

And I can't exactly go to bed now, when my mom told me I needed to be backed for Amy's wedding and we're leaving tomorrow right after work or something. (Amy, for those playing along at home, is my deceased grandmother's ex-husband's new wife's daughter from her first marriage. Or, if you please, my mom's step-dad's step-daughter. Total blood relation: 0%) And I'm of course totally packed if by totally we mean not at all, ahaha, because I spent all evening writing letters and downloading music/being sent music by [livejournal.com profile] kikkirhodes who is now responsible for about 60% of my daily music consumption, no complaints here.

(bonus round: Anderson the iPod is making a really loud and scary whirring noise and taking FOREVER to update. So, um, glad I got that extended warranty now, ahahayeah. -_-)

So I'm packing for that. Sort of. And I got my credit card statement, which, um, yeah, first time I've seen it THAT high, maybe I should get them to take back that increase they gave me. Except they want me to be in debt, so that won't work. For me. For them it works fine. Because I am a disgustingly impulsive buyer and oh man, I need a real job and not this cakewalk at the Salvation Army, nice as it is. Except I'm really not cut out for anything more complicated than burgers, I think, and I already fucked myself over on that one (oh no, not fast-food, I'll sell you my soul and my limbs and my childhood memories but don't make me work fast food again).

And, fuck, I don't know, everything was going so well up until I gave myself a heart attack on the Pump machine. (B, F, C. I hate Beethoven Virus with so much of my soul. At least the remaining part.) Kristin and Amber and I totally fucked the mall with gigantic strap-ons of swift fingerlyness, at which Kristin is the ultimate queen. (Like, $90 of stuff between the three of us? Score.) I got Julia's birthday present, lots of lip gloss, new laces for my Chucks, pins, all good. Kristin got me a sweet pair of gloves and barettes and more lip gloss than I will ever use in my life, yum. And we ran into Jen, and man, I must look innocent or something because I beeped coming into FYE and I beeped going out and I totally could have lifted so much stuff in there but I didn't because hey, I beeped, they could have checked me and I'm lucky they didn't.

So yes. Mall was good. Work was good. Between the two, also good. Up until Kristin and Amber left after we watched The O.C. (shut up, okay? She made me.) everything was good. And then, not so good, and I suck as a human being, and now I'm going to shut up and pack and write addresses on things and just, I don't know, getting out of town won't make a difference, none of this will make a difference, and I don't know what I'm doing still.


/end whineybitchmode.
femmealunettes: (tired)
This week has been magnificently unproductive aside from writing that almost no one will ever see. Not that I'm not all about writing when I can do it, but I wish I could do something I could show off, something I could just sit down and lay out and have it be clear, unsullied by my fragmenting style and degenerating grasp of the language.

It's really sad that I'm only twenty and I'm afraid I'll never be as good at anything as I was when I was a kid. Which is retarded, because I sucked at everything, but I had so much DRIVE and that's pretty much all gone. I'll never sit down and pour out thirty poems in a night again, even if most of them were shitty haiku about snowflakes.

But whatever. This isn't about me whining. I don't get to do that anymore without feeling like an ass about it, so no more.

I proofread my little brother's first college essay today. He's surprising in a lot of ways-- he still can't use there/theri/they're, know/now is a mystery to him, but he can be really insightful and he gets just as pissed off with a phrase coming out badly as I do.

Of course, I don't usually physically beat on the printer for chewing up paper, but I'm NOT him, thank god. xD

I know I say this all the time, but tomorrow I'm either going out or I'm going to clean my room. And by clean I mean all these boxes really don't need to be here and I can lose the laundry basket without any laundry in it. I want to get my cedar chest in here (MY cedar chest, the one I got from Grandma for a hope chest, but I won't call it a hope chest because I don't think I'll ever get married, so I'll use it for sweaters. So there.) and maybe lose the plastic drawers if I can.

Friday will make two weeks since the car accident. The bruise on my arm is mostly gone, except where the veins get close under the skin; there's a small greenish bump there that I know psychologically is just clotted blood and will be reabsorbed or flushed away or something by my body, but it freaks me out anyhow. There's a LUMP of BLOOD in my ARM. Ew.

And... yes. Now is time for bed. Because I have work in the morning and my dad told me to be in bed by midnight.

So goodnight.

can you stake me?

  • Aug. 29th, 2005 at 7:09 AM
femmealunettes: (under observation: House)
I don't know why I'm awake.

Scratch that. I know exactly why I'm awake and it sucks. It's not just that I woke up cold, or I woke up with a cramp, no. All of the above, squared, plus a really bad case of upset stomach on top of that.

And this sucks because either I tell dad, skip work, and come off looking like a tool for what should be my first day back to school but isn't, or go to work, suffer publicly (and it will be public, it's the end of the month, busiest time, which adds onto my tool points if I miss it) and... I don't know.

I always think he'll think the worst of me when he almost never does, so.

I'm going back to bed. I can scrape up another two hours' sleep either way. And either way I have to call Charter, I have to call campus or find my missing bursar's bill and tell them I ain't coming back this time around, I have to call one of those places, either CCCC or BHSN, and get in to see someone....

My bruises are starting to fade into that gross brown color now. At least the ones on my arm. Back to wearing sleeves again.

[insert keyboard mash here]

  • Aug. 11th, 2005 at 9:55 AM
femmealunettes: (head hurts...)
My dad is leaving in like, five minutes. To go to Cornell. Because Mark's in surgery today.

I had dreams about being in a play, and I had to be the evil stepmother even though I didn't want to be. My dad laughed when I told him that when he woke me up.

Bleh. I'm not really sad but I still feel like crying right now. Whatever. Stupid body.

(note to self: $36 to mom for paypal use. $40 to Cananananadia. $100 to bank, minimum to credit card, $20 to wallet, there goes that two weeks.)

Ugh. Is it really only Thursday?


  • Aug. 9th, 2005 at 11:47 AM
femmealunettes: (driving me nuts)

Okay. That was a senseless keyboard mash, and also a pretty accurate representation of how the inside of my head feels right now. Just, lkdjfsg;lkf.

It's too hot, my dreams are too weird, my mom's on my case again ("so when can you move back to college?" Gee, eager to get rid of me much?) and I'm just. Ugh.

Too much yelling, not enough actual words. *headdesk*

On the plus side, BPAL. I tried on Miskatonic University today and no one could decide that it smelled like coffee. I got "coconuts", "pancake syrup", and "buttery rum" but no coffee. I think it smells great, and I'm really hesitant to blame this headache on the perfume so much as the way my office reeked of whatever they're throwing together in the kitchen or the heat.

Heeeeadaaache. And people coming in to talk my ear off, or calling in, and no on ever shuts up it feels like, I just keep smiling and nodding until they go away.

I'm a really bad person. I fake being sympathetic and empathetic when I'm really just pathetic.

And the people I actually give a damn about, I can't do anything to help. Lovely.
femmealunettes: (head hurts...)
What I want to know is when being a moderate suddenly means you're against everyone. Last time I checked, equalists weren't anti-feminist or pro-male. Last time I checked, people who supported civil rights weren't necessarily segregationists or for black power.

When did wanting everyone to have the same rights become something to be attacked? What am I missing here?

Annnnnyhow. Ugh. Headache. I started reading The Language Instinct today; by the time I finish it I should have enough reading material built up to keep me for the rest of the summer.

...yeah, I lost everything I had to say. Today was good until I left work; the Majors are going on vacation so I get to cover the office all on my own until the 25th. They're going to Cape Cod. I hope I get to go to the shore by the end of summer, at least at Deana's wedding.

Aaaaargh. God. I need to get out and do something, I'm all pissed off and it's raining so I can't bike anywhere and I don't have anywhere to go anyway. I just keep running circles around "why is the world so full of people who insist that if you aren't totally with them you don't deserve anything?"

Next time someone's in a troll war, DON'T TELL ME ABOUT IT. It just gets me pissed off and goes nowhere. -_-; What a waste of an afternoon.

I think my head is caving in

  • Jul. 5th, 2005 at 1:30 AM
femmealunettes: (everything looks perfect from far away)
I fixed my hair today; the left side had been longer than the right by some small but noticable amount, so I just grabbed some scissors and started cutting. Amber and Kristin showed up midway through, luckily, and Amber helped me out by finishing up the back and right side for me. And after it dried it all looked the same anyhow. I don't really like my hair very much; that's why I want to do so many things to it, like dye it and straighten it and whatever. Because secretly, I really hate it.

My timing is impeccable; it's always wrong.

Mayor's Cup was like it usually is-- hot, dusty, full of interesting smells and too many people. The music was okay, jammy and decent; the company was great, the group kept getting larger-- me, Kristin, Amber, Scott, Josh, the twins, Kalena, and more and more people showing up by ones and twos and leaving again.

The fireworks were marvelous. I saw some that I'd never seen the likes of before, huge white flowers with red and green centers, lovely.

I think my luck just can't hold one way or another for long at all. Maybe I just need to not be so worried and wanting; the more I wanted to see Derek, the less things went right to let it happen. And when he finally got online, I was away from the computer; when I came back, he didn't respond-- and then he signed off. -_-

So maybe I just need to stop worrying. If that's even possible for me to do. It might not be.

Right now I feel horribly insecure about just about everything I can be insecure about, and I don't know why. Time for bed.

(fourteen days.)


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