calypso

Dear JELL-O People,

Do not put ridges on the pudding cups. It only infuriates me. The pudding gets trapped in the ridges, and the only way for me to get to it is to act like a fat kid and dig it out with my finger. Or with my monstrously-long tongue. Whatever's sexier.

You suck.

Sincerely,
Me

----------------------------------------------------------------

I took four pictures today, all of which can be found in the "Me" folder. Here's one:



I very obviously made my tat brighter. Good times. I'll probably fuck with it some more tonight. Because I have nothing better to do on a Friday night....Except to dwell in my swirling pool of teenage angst.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I always have a lot to write about, but once I get to updating my journal, my mind goes blank...It's stupid.

Out of nowhere, I've starting missing my ex-boyfriend, whom I'll call "J."

As disastrous as our trip to the east coast last winter was, to see our families, when I look back on that trip, all that comes to mind is the good. I remember how happy I was being on an airplane with my brother and J, mashed between them for 5+ hours, my two favorite guys on the planet. We all took turns with our naps, and during my nap I had my head in my sweetheart's lap, and my feet in my brother's. It was heavenly.

We made incredible love in our hotel room, laughed together when we received stockings full of candy and toys, kissed in a graveyard, had a hell of a Silly-String fight in Jersey, looked over the sea in awe of Lady Liberty, became stupidly giddy when we learned that you don't pump your own gas in Jersey...Even when I got wicked pissed-off at the idea of "Turnpikes," I look back on that in good humor.

Blah.

I dunno what to do anymore. Since we broke up, I've been kind of...lost.