If I were to ever be an international (ie: New York Citian) cross dresser-slash-fake-woman (so really I would just be a woman dressed up as a male dressing as a woman), I think that I would like to be named Darling Fakery and own a bakery...

rant rant rant rant fucking aleve. I am stumbling and skewing, crying at Sex and the city because secretly I cause drama when there isn't and I fucking hate aleve because it makes me feel drunk. Pathology!! Pathology noww!!

I feel weird for saying this, but I have recently become very awkward around people. I am convinced that this person whom I am getting together with hates me, and I really do care for some reason. I don't know why, since I have never really cared before what other people thought of me. I am going backwards into wall flowerdom.

So after individuals yesterday, and after the sushi dinner with the majority of the girls' fencing team minus Adriel but plus a non member Emily, I went to the Magnolia Bakery with Emily, Kyle and Rebecca "Winning Winifred" for fabulous cupcakes and skim milk. As there was a line, I was listening to some GGGGGGay kid complaining about all the ( Read more... )

I have decided that it is time for me to become more calm and collected; to become the classic enigma that I worship but can never be due to habbit. I know that it sounds like a Scarlett O'Hara "I'll do it tomorrow" thing, but it is not. Starting now, I won't speak to strangers, keep my thoughts to myself, be more open to people who I generally ( Read more... )

I want Donna Alvarez, J.T NotBad, and Connie My Love to please respond to this so I know that you are alive. Thank you, and sorry for being annoying and demanding...

I feel as though it is entirely impossible for me to cure everything. I hate pain, especially in other people, it makes me sad and feel weak and immobile to all the 'higher' persons or beings' thoughts and actions. This doesn't make sense.

I really want a pig named Moo, a hedgehog named Joralemon and two dogs named Disco and Taxi. I should go to class...

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I am wooried. My father has just bought a strobe light. Perhaps he is trying to re-live the hippy strobe light years. If hippies had strobe lights.