i am currently teh shizzle, for no reason other than i just freaking want to be, okay.
i have eaten nothing but shit today. aside from the banana i consumed as part of breakfast, i've consumed enough junk food to kill a (diabetic) horse. the reason being, my father is an idiot. the main food groups in our house are potato chips, ice cream, popcorn, and croutons. no wonder i feel like such a cow. i caught myself daydreaming about salad today!
at least this is a step, though. instead of not wanting to eat, i want to eat healthy things. this was something that didn't even occur back when my eating habits were normal. i'm going to take it as a good sign. i don't mind having neuroses, but some of them are a pain in the ass when trying to function in normal society.
in the next six months i am planning on finishing a novel (ha) and starting a solo act (ha ha) that will combine piano bar jazz with goth rock. good fucking luck, right. hey, don't laugh. i would adore putting on a cocktail dress and singing sweet and lilting songs about sadomasochism and self-mutilation. with my bald head, red lips and appetite for destruction, what could go wrong?
don't answer that.
in other news, matt and i may have found a place to live. not before time, since my sister's young and annoying friend is apparently moving in with us because her boyfriend the douchebag, who is the only guy i know to get less than a 1% in a class, is leaving her. she is not impolite but she's a replica of my sister and so it's TWICE the hair (!) in the sink, TWICE the mess on the floor, TWICE the crap clogging up the living room. also, my dad is pissing me off, but what else is new.
emancipation, saith the lord.
just now:
matt: heh I'm sending really bad pictures off of my phone
deborah: weirdo.
matt: its sent did you get it?
deborah: just save it, i'll see you tomorrow
deborah: i don't know, i haven't checked my email yet
matt: well, check
deborah: in a second, i'm occupied.
matt: with what!
deborah: with the antichrist
deborah: he's in my livingroom on the couch, okay
deborah: i'm making him hot chocolate
deborah: so just hold on a freaking second
i have eaten nothing but shit today. aside from the banana i consumed as part of breakfast, i've consumed enough junk food to kill a (diabetic) horse. the reason being, my father is an idiot. the main food groups in our house are potato chips, ice cream, popcorn, and croutons. no wonder i feel like such a cow. i caught myself daydreaming about salad today!
at least this is a step, though. instead of not wanting to eat, i want to eat healthy things. this was something that didn't even occur back when my eating habits were normal. i'm going to take it as a good sign. i don't mind having neuroses, but some of them are a pain in the ass when trying to function in normal society.
in the next six months i am planning on finishing a novel (ha) and starting a solo act (ha ha) that will combine piano bar jazz with goth rock. good fucking luck, right. hey, don't laugh. i would adore putting on a cocktail dress and singing sweet and lilting songs about sadomasochism and self-mutilation. with my bald head, red lips and appetite for destruction, what could go wrong?
don't answer that.
in other news, matt and i may have found a place to live. not before time, since my sister's young and annoying friend is apparently moving in with us because her boyfriend the douchebag, who is the only guy i know to get less than a 1% in a class, is leaving her. she is not impolite but she's a replica of my sister and so it's TWICE the hair (!) in the sink, TWICE the mess on the floor, TWICE the crap clogging up the living room. also, my dad is pissing me off, but what else is new.
emancipation, saith the lord.
just now:
matt: heh I'm sending really bad pictures off of my phone
deborah: weirdo.
matt: its sent did you get it?
deborah: just save it, i'll see you tomorrow
deborah: i don't know, i haven't checked my email yet
matt: well, check
deborah: in a second, i'm occupied.
matt: with what!
deborah: with the antichrist
deborah: he's in my livingroom on the couch, okay
deborah: i'm making him hot chocolate
deborah: so just hold on a freaking second
extrafox:
you are the wind beneath my wings