(no subject)
i'm his best girl.
what the fuck?
are we splitting hairs, afraid to say the word?
g-g-g-g-g-irl...friend?
he cut off his hair for me, like, all of it. he just showed up at my door to take care of me yesterday with it all gone. "oh, i was going to do it anyway eventually, you just pushed me in that direction." last time i checked you wanted to get it to where you could "tuck it behind your ears." what happened to that? now i feel like a psychotic trying to control him. last weekend i asked him to not put his feet up in the lobby of a restaurant to the reply of, "you sound like my mother." sorry, i don't want to be your mother, it's just rude to put your feet up in a restaurant waiting area. i don't feel wrong about that, though i'm wary of reminding anyone of their *mother*. no really i'm cool, put your feet up any damned place you feel like.
i'm staying home for the 2nd day in a row. i don't have insurance until january or whenever this appeal thing gets passed, if it passes. until then i don't technically have insurance until i have an emergency i.e. a ruptured kidney or blood in my urine. SOMETHING other than "yeah it really hurts, no, not white light blinding pain just really uncomfortable cramping feeling for the last two weeks pain." wear you down pain. boring almost non-pain unless you think about it. oh the cruel irony of working at a hospital with no insurance.
i had a dream last night i had ugly scary teeth. truth is, i think it's true. they had gray and yellow planes flat and unreal like old old ivory dentures or the ones in polident commercials.
i'm tried to explain to the southern why i loved nabokov's lolita so much. he said it sounded dumb. i said it was beautiful, this didn't suffice. what else can i say about it?
i'm going to cut off my hair in an act of solidarity. i want to be able to curl it and stuff. i want to look like a messy dietrich or something equally breathy.
what the fuck?
are we splitting hairs, afraid to say the word?
g-g-g-g-g-irl...friend?
he cut off his hair for me, like, all of it. he just showed up at my door to take care of me yesterday with it all gone. "oh, i was going to do it anyway eventually, you just pushed me in that direction." last time i checked you wanted to get it to where you could "tuck it behind your ears." what happened to that? now i feel like a psychotic trying to control him. last weekend i asked him to not put his feet up in the lobby of a restaurant to the reply of, "you sound like my mother." sorry, i don't want to be your mother, it's just rude to put your feet up in a restaurant waiting area. i don't feel wrong about that, though i'm wary of reminding anyone of their *mother*. no really i'm cool, put your feet up any damned place you feel like.
i'm staying home for the 2nd day in a row. i don't have insurance until january or whenever this appeal thing gets passed, if it passes. until then i don't technically have insurance until i have an emergency i.e. a ruptured kidney or blood in my urine. SOMETHING other than "yeah it really hurts, no, not white light blinding pain just really uncomfortable cramping feeling for the last two weeks pain." wear you down pain. boring almost non-pain unless you think about it. oh the cruel irony of working at a hospital with no insurance.
i had a dream last night i had ugly scary teeth. truth is, i think it's true. they had gray and yellow planes flat and unreal like old old ivory dentures or the ones in polident commercials.
i'm tried to explain to the southern why i loved nabokov's lolita so much. he said it sounded dumb. i said it was beautiful, this didn't suffice. what else can i say about it?
i'm going to cut off my hair in an act of solidarity. i want to be able to curl it and stuff. i want to look like a messy dietrich or something equally breathy.