BOOOOGERS.
I feel a little cracked out. Skipping over this entry may be a good idea, and certainly beneficial for your health.
I went to Shakori Hills. My hula hoop is indeed amazing. I took a class. I can now hula hoop while holding an umbrella
The back of my pack of batteries gives pictures of things that the batteries should be used for. Among them, a beeper, an old school CD player, a PDA and some walkie talkies. No where on there do they have illustrations of vibrators and remote controls, which seems a little silly to me. I can promise you, dildos and remote controls probably take up at least 85% of their market usage. Why alienate them in favor of boxy walkie-talkies or early 90's pagers? Energizer needs a decade and a market check, stat.
Keppra is hard, and I'm probably going to end up on anti-depressants. I wish Fringe hadn't made up the whole hyper-emotive thing, because I feel that way most of the time. I'm either super dooper happy, or inconsolably upset. Maybe I should be medicated more. Maybe I'll turn into a zombie. At least I'll be a zombie with no seizures. Cross your fingers for me.
My sister brought Christmas early in the parking lot of my apartment complex today. She dropped off some goodies from my parents, which included $50, a new bike, the return of my hula-hoop, a visit from my puppy, and a bike lock. My bike is wonderful. Hopefully a safer alternative to driving, which I can't do anymore.
I'm sick of being upset and self-indulgent. I suppose LJ isn't the best place to rid yourself of those two things. I'm gonna go hula hoop some more, take my meds, and then go to bed. I wish you all well.
P.S. The guy with the hot knees from All-American Rejects was in my dream last night. It was bizarre. I keep stealing volvos in my dreams. Do you think it means something?
P.P.S. I've been lucky enough to see Holy Ghost Tent Revival twice in the past week. Those boy are handsome, and their music super-fun. You should check them out.
myspace.com/hgtr
P.P.P.S. There is no room to hula hoop in my apartment. I checked. And broke a picture frame. Yaaay!
I went to Shakori Hills. My hula hoop is indeed amazing. I took a class. I can now hula hoop while holding an umbrella
The back of my pack of batteries gives pictures of things that the batteries should be used for. Among them, a beeper, an old school CD player, a PDA and some walkie talkies. No where on there do they have illustrations of vibrators and remote controls, which seems a little silly to me. I can promise you, dildos and remote controls probably take up at least 85% of their market usage. Why alienate them in favor of boxy walkie-talkies or early 90's pagers? Energizer needs a decade and a market check, stat.
Keppra is hard, and I'm probably going to end up on anti-depressants. I wish Fringe hadn't made up the whole hyper-emotive thing, because I feel that way most of the time. I'm either super dooper happy, or inconsolably upset. Maybe I should be medicated more. Maybe I'll turn into a zombie. At least I'll be a zombie with no seizures. Cross your fingers for me.
My sister brought Christmas early in the parking lot of my apartment complex today. She dropped off some goodies from my parents, which included $50, a new bike, the return of my hula-hoop, a visit from my puppy, and a bike lock. My bike is wonderful. Hopefully a safer alternative to driving, which I can't do anymore.
I'm sick of being upset and self-indulgent. I suppose LJ isn't the best place to rid yourself of those two things. I'm gonna go hula hoop some more, take my meds, and then go to bed. I wish you all well.
P.S. The guy with the hot knees from All-American Rejects was in my dream last night. It was bizarre. I keep stealing volvos in my dreams. Do you think it means something?
P.P.S. I've been lucky enough to see Holy Ghost Tent Revival twice in the past week. Those boy are handsome, and their music super-fun. You should check them out.
myspace.com/hgtr
P.P.P.S. There is no room to hula hoop in my apartment. I checked. And broke a picture frame. Yaaay!