alright, since i'm all about the dedications, this one is for stellarose.
apparently, the boys above my hall have gotten their hands on this address. hi, boys. you suck. xor. and i wrote some silly shit about some silly people and i blush every time i think of it. go away. why do you give a shit, anyway? and speaking of which, how did you find this? fuck.
this fucking journal has gotten me into so much trouble. let's review: most recently, there's the whole 'thing' with yajaira, but that's probably for the best. then there was the fights via diaryland with katie. and i just worked for 9 hours and 45 minutes and now i'm fairly buzzed on one silly little beer so that's all i can think of. i am much enamored by george and dave. in a purely platonic manner. ahem.
dude, i missed the word of mouth on saturday. not that i was really up for it. i always crash at those things. i'll be all jazzed for it, and then an hour and a half later when we finally arrive, i end up walking around cold as hell and fall asleep in the back of anne's car around midnight. righto.
dreams last night were craziness. i dreamed russel crowe was trying to kill my mom and i. then i dreamed that my mom caught me stoned and was so incredibly disappointed in me. during that dream, i felt like it was a dream within a dream and i couldn't differentiate between the dream within the dream, the dream, and reality, so when i woke up i was fucking confused.
alright, time to go smoke. why is it that all the shit happens (a) when i'm PMSing and (b) when i decide to cut down on smoking?
alright: go away if you're just reading this for your own entertainment value, bitches.
remembering what she wrote about my diary made my happy: "you are real. so real." so there. pft.