Lets see
I've had pneumonia for like, over 2 weeks now. It's STUPID. It's just sucking the lifeblood out of me and making me really hungry. NOTHING is worse than something that makes you just want to eat and sleep. The moment I wrote that, I knew how untrue it was, but I'm feeling whiney, bear with me.
That's a pattern here, whiney. Whatev's, WHAT EVS!
Yeah. Lets see. Just about one month to Vieques. I'm SO excited. It doesn't seem like it's really going to happen. I mean, it will, but I can't believe it.
Also, I'm kind of totally getting my weather wish. That is, warm winter, then kiiiinda shitty right before Vieques. I mean, if it's not shitty at ALL, I won't REALLY appreciate the tropics right? Well, no, I will, but it's more poetic this way.
Speaking of poetic. I don't write. I'm the worst. I can't make myself do it. Someone help me. PLEASE?! I really am enjoying photography and it blends so nicely with my gardening thing. See:
See:
See?
(speaking of which, ghoulgurl, tell me that last one wouldn't make a craaaaaazy box or some kinda something, right? Minus the CAT HAIR on that rightmost pitcher. COLIN!!!! (shakes fist at the sky)
But yeah, the fact that I don't write, it's just, uggg. It's awful. That's what I take the most pride in when I do it. But, much like exercise, I'm only motivated to do it as I'm lying in bed at night, falling asleep. Which, really, brain? THAT is how we're going to play this? Because, come ON.
How do you make yourself do something you really don't want to do? I mean, dude, I clean the litter box, I clean up cat puke, I'll even EVENTUALLY put away the laundry, but I cannot make myself write. It's shameful and atrocious. It's embarrassing and awful. I want to be one of the cool kids who gets awesome shit done and I'm the lame kid! It's so bad. It's REALLY bad. I literally sat at the counter ALL day today, and I couldn't even look at the pages program to TRY to write. I don't understand. My brain is like a 4 year old and I'm mummy dearest. Do I make it sit there doing NOTHING until it submits to my will? What do I DO? Do I need to go to therapy for this, or do I need to man up?
(also, yes, it was a great show, but every time someone says "man up," world, you don't HAVE to burst into song, m'kay? Thanks.)
Moving on.
My grandmother is moving in with my parents because my uncle is a sadistic abusive creep.
J's brother flew all the way to cali for that ellen thing and then got BUMPED. So that was lol. He's one of these people that was on TV one time and now will spend the rest of his life chasing it. How did that NOT happen to me with the Ananda Lewis show debacle? I have no idea.
Someone asked me to take down an article on a site I was hosting for them (kind of a head mucky muck in the town and it was because I made a county executive have a stroke with an article I wrote, even though I SAID it wasn't 100% sure yet, it was about something POSSIBLE that I sure HOPE WOULDN'T HAPPEN) so instead I took their site down and made a whole other site on which I can say whatever the fuck I want.
That's what I do instead of writing.
Do you understand the problem?
help me.
seriously.
That's a pattern here, whiney. Whatev's, WHAT EVS!
Yeah. Lets see. Just about one month to Vieques. I'm SO excited. It doesn't seem like it's really going to happen. I mean, it will, but I can't believe it.
Also, I'm kind of totally getting my weather wish. That is, warm winter, then kiiiinda shitty right before Vieques. I mean, if it's not shitty at ALL, I won't REALLY appreciate the tropics right? Well, no, I will, but it's more poetic this way.
Speaking of poetic. I don't write. I'm the worst. I can't make myself do it. Someone help me. PLEASE?! I really am enjoying photography and it blends so nicely with my gardening thing. See:
See:
See?
(speaking of which, ghoulgurl, tell me that last one wouldn't make a craaaaaazy box or some kinda something, right? Minus the CAT HAIR on that rightmost pitcher. COLIN!!!! (shakes fist at the sky)
But yeah, the fact that I don't write, it's just, uggg. It's awful. That's what I take the most pride in when I do it. But, much like exercise, I'm only motivated to do it as I'm lying in bed at night, falling asleep. Which, really, brain? THAT is how we're going to play this? Because, come ON.
How do you make yourself do something you really don't want to do? I mean, dude, I clean the litter box, I clean up cat puke, I'll even EVENTUALLY put away the laundry, but I cannot make myself write. It's shameful and atrocious. It's embarrassing and awful. I want to be one of the cool kids who gets awesome shit done and I'm the lame kid! It's so bad. It's REALLY bad. I literally sat at the counter ALL day today, and I couldn't even look at the pages program to TRY to write. I don't understand. My brain is like a 4 year old and I'm mummy dearest. Do I make it sit there doing NOTHING until it submits to my will? What do I DO? Do I need to go to therapy for this, or do I need to man up?
(also, yes, it was a great show, but every time someone says "man up," world, you don't HAVE to burst into song, m'kay? Thanks.)
Moving on.
My grandmother is moving in with my parents because my uncle is a sadistic abusive creep.
J's brother flew all the way to cali for that ellen thing and then got BUMPED. So that was lol. He's one of these people that was on TV one time and now will spend the rest of his life chasing it. How did that NOT happen to me with the Ananda Lewis show debacle? I have no idea.
Someone asked me to take down an article on a site I was hosting for them (kind of a head mucky muck in the town and it was because I made a county executive have a stroke with an article I wrote, even though I SAID it wasn't 100% sure yet, it was about something POSSIBLE that I sure HOPE WOULDN'T HAPPEN) so instead I took their site down and made a whole other site on which I can say whatever the fuck I want.
That's what I do instead of writing.
Do you understand the problem?
help me.
seriously.