aikaterine

I woke up this morning and there's finally an e-mail in my inbox. And I'm too scared to read it because I'm not particularly excited about knowing why he fucked off.

I am not sure I'm ever going to read it...or just be happy knowing that he finally fucking took the time to reply to it.

I stood silently, a tribute to all the other wallflowers that attached themselves to the off-white walls of our gym.
Right now, however, the basketballs had disappeared. The volleyball nets bundled into the boys' locker rooms and soccer balls in a small heap by the gym office. Occasionally one would roll out of place, and a well-meaning chaperone would run in haste and quickly adjust...
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THUNDERSTORMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIGHTENING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HUZZAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rob, my editor: "That epilepsy thing in Garden State was stupid."

Me: "She should've had cancer."

Rob: "Yeah, that would've been better. Everyone likes cancer better."

I love my job. Sometimes.

Sorry I was irritable earlier. I am not myself lately.

Dude, were all these fucked up changes really necessary? Shit worked fine the way before. I really don't think anyone is going to get anything more out of this site because you have to hunt for your journal updating page, and where the FUCK is my friends page? My friends are not bookmarks. They are cool people. Not bookmarks.

I added some new pictures from yesterday. They're cute. You should go look. The gal in the purple bandana is my best friend Jamey. The guy is Tim. I am in the blue.

Alright. Everyone's made me feel better. I appreciate you guys. This post was entirely unnecessary. Much love.