Tuesday, November 9
My new sweater from La Redoute came in the mail today. It's sexy.

I am going to have to get three fillings tomorrow after school. That sucks balls.

Izzy Stradlin makes great music.

So does John Lennon.

I woke up today with nausea. I have no fucking idea why.

French class sucked. My seat was moved to the front corner next to the door. Maybe the teacher moved me there in case I flip out at her and after she yells at me to go to the office I can get out of the class faster.

History sucked too. We went to the library to look at books for the shitty project. My partners don't even like me, but oh well no one gives a fuck about them either. I just sat at one of the computers right after the network started working again to work on the layout here. I have to work on the text boxes and font and shit. That's pretty much everything besides the background, which Picturetrail fucked up. They resized it. No surprise.

Gym class was one of those beginning of the quarter things that you sit on the bleachers for ninety minutes to do nothing and get so bored you start to cry. I seriously would if I waited longer, but you don't have to wait for three hours. Three hours is my breaking point. If I have to wait three hours for anything, anywhere, I get so frustrated I start crying. Talk about pussy.

Lunch, there was nothing to eat so I ate peanut butter M&M's. Two bags, bitch.

At the beginning of eighth block, there was a dumb presentation especially for sophomores of the female sex to attend in the auditorium pertaining to our futures and career sources. I did not enjoy it at all. I wish I would've just hid in the bathroom the whole time, throwing wet balls of toilet paper at passersby outside the window. But today wasn't a good day, it was too breezy and ass cold to even look outside the goddamn shittily insulated windows. I've got so many opinions and crap to say about the all-females only presentation about our, or at least mine, nonexistant futures, but my intestines beg to differ.

With my lack of a decent meal in school, I came home to find an absolutely sensuous bag of beef jerky in the dining room. I almost orgasmed upon opening the bag and smelling the aroma of teriyaki sauce. One of the hardest things to do next to showing Dashboard Confessional how to smoke crack is to separate me from a beef jerky. Impossible, I say. My mom had to snap the words, "STOP EATING THEM ALL!" to my face for me to stop stuffing my face. There was also a case of pricey croissants for once. They tasted damn good.

I'm not even going to bother proofreading this entry. I'd rather experiment in necropheliacism.


Christina N. @ 7:34 PM