i hate those stupid diaryland ads that use a quote from someone's journal like it's supposed to be all clever and ingenious and it's. just. not.
which makes me think that all my clever, witty entries just. aren't.
hummm.
i need to find a girly girl friend up here. esp and i would be camping out tonight for tickets to how to deal, because we are pathetically obsessed with mandy moore. up here, i'll be lucky to see it on video. and i couldn't pay aaron enough to accompany me to this momemtous occasion. very sigh.
but, but! katie will be joining me not only NEXT weekend but for bumbershoot as well! fucking a!
this is what somebody said of me, or this, rather: //I wish I were her.//
there's a hole in my sock and it's the most fascinating thing i've seen all day. trust me, love, mine is a life no one needs to lead.
p.s. i have quite a few friends who are severely anti-credit cards and anti-bank and anti-money and anti-society, but i'm focusing the the anti-credit people. i would just like to assert that the very main reason i have the credit line that i do is so that anytime anybody needs me, i can afford any plane ticket to anywhere. and i would never ask the same of you. that is the goddamn truth. i am loyal as all fuck, and i will do anything for anyone who will accept me for me, nothing more, which means it hurts that much more when my devotion is stomped upon.
before pirates of the caribbean, somebody in the quite audience, "arrrrrrred" like a pirate and it was so not funny but everyone laughed. well. i didn't. it just -- ugh: epitomized everything.
[this is a diary, i'm allowed pseudointellectualism.]