Fuck you, Debbie
24 February 2004 at 11:48 am

The nice thing about having an online diary is when I get around to talking to the friends who read this, I don't have to go into the tedious details of what I've been up to.

The bad thing about having an online diary is when you don't update for a few days, your friends ask you to update instead of asking you what's up.

It's a compliment? I guess?

I was very hungover yesterday and don't really feel like getting into what happened Sunday night that made Monday so godawful, but I will say that if ever you are in the mood for a $27.00 petite filet, anzu in the hotel that's next to the Renaissance Parc 55 is the place to go. And they serve it with what they call a potato tower, but it's really more like a potato penis, and it makes for great dinner conversation.

The strangely vivid dreams are continuing, except now when I wake up I'm not sure if I've been dreaming or if I've been awake for awhile and have just been thinking.

When I go out, particularly when I'm by myself (i.e., without Aaron), I tend to act as though either there is no tomorrow or those involved in the outing will have no recollection of it the next day. I have a feeling this is why I prefer to be a homebody, as anyone placed in that scenario would act in a manner that may result in severe cringing.

The building-provided exteriminators came today, and the guy was terrified of my dog, which was very amusing.

It's coming upon that time when a year ago I was so miserable, and for once it wasn't my fault, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't feel like updating for a few days. Or if I do update, you'll have to excuse angst-ridden sludge that is sure to override any and all coherent and worthwhile thoughts.

Additionally, I told someone that I don't like to leave the house without sunglasses and a trenchcoat of sorts because of my social anxiety, and I said it just to be a little shit, but I think it's kind of true. I'm all about the anonymity, even if I can't pronounce it.

I love that I've had this thing for so long, because I can look back upon days of years past and be all like, "Doug? Doug who?"

one year ago today: "and then the subject was changed."

two years ago today: "no expectations though, right?" and "i'm wheezing and i feel like shit." and "universe! stop messing with me!" and "what? my little girl! all grown up! ook!" and "Meet the decline" and "how over it am i? jesus, i dunno. um...pretty fucking over it?"

three years ago today: nothin.


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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.