*

...just another girl who costarred?
they're gonna wrap you up in cornsilk.
they're gonna cry like you were spilled milk.
-rhett miller

2003-03-136:26 p.m.

diaryland, oh diaryland, how i neglect thee, let me count the ways:

1. friendster,
2. too lazy
3. nobody's really reading it anyway...

someone was talking about on friendster today how lj kids don't talk about anything and block up the internet. bah. that sounds like one of my freshmen justifying violence because someone is just annoying, and picking on them just because "they're stupid." we are all "stupid" in our own way, and rub SOMEONE the wrong way. trust.

so anyhow...my youth are GREAT. i've been doing spoken word workshops w/them and we did a great "i am" piece today that i'm gonna publish here once i get it all typed out. it's on like, 12 sheets of butcher paper.

i have to say, the best ending to any relationship, is getting all your shit back and not having to talk to the bastard. i had already made peace with my shit, but i think just for being so good and so patient all these years, he finally sent it back to me. with a lot of other shit i threw away. i see he's still alive, to my dismay. i was really wishing he'd fall off highway 101 in a sudden mudslide. call me evil, go ahead. you don't know the half of it. i've been good. really, really, really good. and if i believed in god or hell, i'd ask her to send him there, but only after a long and miserable life. el fin. i'm over it, can't you tell? i don't know why i bother...you know it's habit when you don't want it anymore but it still runs on a track in your head.

so the other day, i stumbled upon a tape of my 6th grade birthday party. it was pretty fucking hilarious. i was wearing these dayglo happy face plastic button earrings, a big joe mcintyre shirt and i had BANGS. the most redeeming thing about it, was that i was super nice about all the presents i got and thanked everyone individually, even the repeat gifts. i always wonder if kids are gonna be brats about presents and i was kinda cringing to see how i was back then. luckily, i probably got slapped with a tsinella for being rude once when i was little and never was rude again. then i started noticing all the boys that were there, and realized i'd dated all of them at least once by the time i graduated. men have their winning memories about sports events in highschool, i have a long list of boys. both should just make you feel old and pathetic for even reminiscing...

having said that, i was listening to this irish woman author on npr today and she'd written an autobiography and it got me thinkin...i am going to write an autobiography that is based on my true life, and then the rest of it will be my imagined life in like, 50 years, and it will begin: the war began in my 24th year...

off to puh-hoe-enn-ix tomorrow (that's pronounced puh-hoe-netick-ally)...weeeeee for airplanes. the one thing i will miss the most when we run out of oil in the world...traveling by plane...i'm sure they have alternatives figured out though, they're just greedy bastards is all.

bout to give this girl a shout

>>back in the day>>
>>i'm not a kid anymore>>
>>but somedays i sit & wish i was a kid again>>

"i don't want the world, i just want your half..."
-they might be giants

>>>leave your mark on me / [?uestbook]>>>

* me love you long time *
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