Breathing deeper, falling faster, finding strength to call and ask her
Well tomorrow I happen to see someone again. I don't really know why I'm updating, I don't really use this journal for anything. It's not like I want my friends to comment because whenever someone asks for my username I tell the to fuck off.
Well no, the last few times I've been nicer than that. Cause the very last time it was someone from camp that I like asking, and the most recent times have all been pretty good friends of mine.
I think it's cause if I hand out my username eventually I'll get someone smart enough to check memories and all that shit.
Anyway, it's not like I really use this for a journal. Maybe it's the excitement of knowing anyone could read what I type.
Yep, just like a blowjob behind the bushes; I'm doing it for the thrill.
I have a really big bag of m&m's. Score.
I went to see Star Wars again in theater. Scoretastic. (does it make me a geek that I've seen it 5 times, and only twice legally in a theater, and it's my least favorite episode?) I shudder to remember how many times I've seen Empire. I went through a phase a year or so ago where I watched that almost every night for a month. *smacks forehead*
I went down to Long Island to see Steve's relatives. Is it wrong of me that I absolutely adore his mother. She is the coolest. I never knew she took a programming class one summer.
I'm still all squee'd out from Warped.
Beth played connect the dots with my mosquito bites. I've been working in shorts because instead of sorting cucumbers like I should be doing because my bitch sister stole the cushy job sorting cucumbers in the air conditioned garage I've been in the fields and in the greenhouses. Some of my friends are complaining about the heat. In greenhouses the tempature is a consistent ten degrees hotter than outside. And the fields I've been working on the river side where the cucumbers and tomatoes go because my moron ancestors decided the summer vegetables should be planted where the bloody mosquitoes live, when the rest of the field is empty because broccoli and squash don't get planted for several more weeks.
Well. I'm going to go listen to music and brood, all you motherfuckers. Yeah, you heard me. I have been reasurred several times no one reads this. So it's less of an all and more of a me when I look back once a month or so.
Well no, the last few times I've been nicer than that. Cause the very last time it was someone from camp that I like asking, and the most recent times have all been pretty good friends of mine.
I think it's cause if I hand out my username eventually I'll get someone smart enough to check memories and all that shit.
Anyway, it's not like I really use this for a journal. Maybe it's the excitement of knowing anyone could read what I type.
Yep, just like a blowjob behind the bushes; I'm doing it for the thrill.
I have a really big bag of m&m's. Score.
I went to see Star Wars again in theater. Scoretastic. (does it make me a geek that I've seen it 5 times, and only twice legally in a theater, and it's my least favorite episode?) I shudder to remember how many times I've seen Empire. I went through a phase a year or so ago where I watched that almost every night for a month. *smacks forehead*
I went down to Long Island to see Steve's relatives. Is it wrong of me that I absolutely adore his mother. She is the coolest. I never knew she took a programming class one summer.
I'm still all squee'd out from Warped.
Beth played connect the dots with my mosquito bites. I've been working in shorts because instead of sorting cucumbers like I should be doing because my bitch sister stole the cushy job sorting cucumbers in the air conditioned garage I've been in the fields and in the greenhouses. Some of my friends are complaining about the heat. In greenhouses the tempature is a consistent ten degrees hotter than outside. And the fields I've been working on the river side where the cucumbers and tomatoes go because my moron ancestors decided the summer vegetables should be planted where the bloody mosquitoes live, when the rest of the field is empty because broccoli and squash don't get planted for several more weeks.
Well. I'm going to go listen to music and brood, all you motherfuckers. Yeah, you heard me. I have been reasurred several times no one reads this. So it's less of an all and more of a me when I look back once a month or so.