pulloffmywings

i just had the funnest 2 hours. i took another hardcore set... myself. THAT'S right! it means i didn't have to have my roomate get a hardon while taking pics of me.

speaking of him.... should i feel bad for not wanting to hear about how he almost died yesterday? it's all he talks about. you know, i'm sure that anyone who almost died would go on about it. but i think he's doing it to be like "hey, i almost died, now fuck me." he comes out in his boxers today and is like "look at this huge gash (read: tiny scratch) on my thigh!" yeah. wow. i don't wish that he would have died. but i wish that he'd shut up and take it like a man. i'm getting sick of him. even my other roomates tell me they think he's trying to impress me. with his playing bass and such. WHY?!?! i already told him i don't like him. no, i didn't change my mind. ARGH!!!

i had the best call ever yesterday at 4 in the morning. i get there, and there's this guy, about 23, with piercings and tats, and the best music collection ever. so i got paid $90 to talk about music. and i danced to the DEFTONES!

i miss sam. she's having a tough time. she's my best friend, 16 years old. she's still dealing with high school, abusive stepfather, brothers (ages 12 and 22) going in and out of drug rehab and the psych ward. i want to be there and hold her and kiss away her tears.

i want to kiss away anyone's tears. *sigh* i'm so lonely here. there's no one to call mine. i want someone to snuggle with. someone to bring me flowers when i'm sad. someone who will tuck me in at night and whisper "i love you."

but this is me we're talking about...