Well, things are starting to look up?

I think I have two modeling jobs half-lined up. Just need to workout the kinks.

My mom won't let me drive since I've miss placed my license. Fuckkk.

Oh well. Knock on wood for my luck.

I think I'm going to have Marc pierce my steptum.

My skins hating the purple ink in my tattoo.

I bought a bunch of button up shirts today.

I've applied everywhere ever for a job.

I hope I get one either at the Apple store or Best Buy.

I got a haircut. I took a picture, you can't tell.


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LOOK IM ON THE INTERNET

http://fashionfollower.com/crash28/tops.asp

I got a tattoo. It's pretty cute.

My ex-manager is in jail.

I'm broke.

My mom thinks I'm an alcoholic.

My life is in shambles.

I think the bitch at the hair salon scraped off the scabbing on my tattoo and if she did, it probably messed up my shading. If she did, I'm going to slit her throat. Not only did she not pay attention to her too long, gaudy nails- she didn't listen to a damn thing about how I wanted my hair blown out ( Read more... )

I got the outline of my tattoo.

I need to get it shaded and coloured.

Just need to make time.

Oh. And I quit my job.

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Alright well.

My life is shit now.

Instead of getting a higher position at my job, as of tomorrow I'll be fired.

I'm fucking Judy Garland post overdose, bitches.

I really really really hate people.

Jesus fuck Christ.

I'm done with socializing.

Anyway, my work just needs to make me a manager already. I rule far too hard at keeping shit inline.

I got an inhaler. Lolz.

And I lost at Scrabble 282-281. Da fuckkk. Who loses with 281? Especially by one point!

Haha.

Corynn's right.

My journal entries never make sense.

Oh.


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