Sunday, February 27
When Christina wants ice cream, she wants chocolate ice cream. But if ye home does not have any chocolate ice cream, thy Christina is saddeth.

Actually, she hasn't even gone to look for any. So there is still the hope for some chocolate ice cream to be left.

I just went to the kitchen, and there is absolutely nothing sweet. Sure, I can make waffles and slather honey all over them, but it's too messy and it takes too long. There's chocolate bars in the fridge, in the fridge I don't know why, but pathetically enough Christina isn't allowed to eat chocolate and the mother keeps careful count of how many chocolate bars there are.

Pizza? That's a good idea. Fuck heartburn. Fuck acid reflux. I'll eat to my heart's content. Or rather, discontent.

It sounds so tasty. And finally I'm burning all the fucking fat that came with the French Revolution. So how does one celebrate that? It's obvious.

Go run a mile? No, you fucking dipshit.

Nobody wants to do six essays, none of which they have any idea on how to do. One would much rather eat pizza and take lots of Tums afterwards as after-snack mints.

I want spring to come so badly. Adding to my numerous pathetic list of reasons why, this new one is because I want new shoes. My sneakers, they're dying on me. The leather on the outside and the fabric on the inside is wearing away. Not to mention the rubber soles on the bottom too. The rubber soles were once completely green, and now since it's wearing away, it's turning white. Sucks, because they're only a year and two months old.

Kind of odd that I've actually been thinking about shoes. And to this day, I still sort of think they are the least important article of clothing when it comes to fashion. The way I see it, is get a pair of sneakers that will match with pretty much every single thing that's in your wardrobe. No one's going to look at your fucking fungus lumps, they're going to be looking at your chest. If you're a chick, that is. That's why shirts are most important, fucktard. Well, I've suddenly been wanting new shoes because I've finally, finally, gotten tired of wearing sneakers for my entire life. I want Birkenstock sandals. Sad part is, they're around $120 dollars just for one fucking pair. And to think hippies wore them. No way did they pay $120 for them. Fucking ripoffs.

I wish another blackout would happen. Then I could go do all the free shopping I want.

As I read back on this entry, I wonder, what is the point of it? And to tell you the truth, I have no fucking idea. At all. Maybe to burn more energy from typing to make myself more hungry to actually get up and cook this frozen pizza that is in thy refridgerator's freezer right now. There's something wrong with thy refridgerator too. When one opens the door, it swings all the way open and doesn't stay in one opening position, causing one to have to hold the door all the time so it won't get away, while getting one's shit to eat. It is very irritating. But I love Mr. Fridge anyway because he keeps my food nice and cold so it won't die on me as fast as it would if I just left it out and ate it all at once.

I really, really hope my Jack Daniel's shirt comes to the right house. As a joke I didn't even put my real name for the address to be sent to. That was before I even won it and wasn't expecting to win anything. I just put my first name and some crazy swedish name that you can't even read. Hopefully, if it comes while I'm at school and my mother gets a hold of it, she won't send it back thinking that it's the wrong person, because at least it has my first name correct.

Almqvist. Read that, bitch. Better yet, pronounce it. Should've taken a crazier swedish name though, like Ricola. My bad, it's swiss. They're all the same. Or at least the first two letters. Sorry, I can't think of a more peculiar swedish name. Elyashkevich? No, that's russian. If I even spelled it right. Lucky europeans, you and your fucking awesome names. Who the fuck likes Nguyen? No, nobody. Can't even pronounce it. Kind of hypocritical, being that it's just as unpronouncable and illegible as Almqvist, but it gives away the fact that I'm asian, which decreases the package's chance of reaching its rightful destination.

Almqvist is the last name of the guy from The Hives. I used to have a major crush on him. But his name is just too cool. You can't even read or say his first name, Pelle, either. Is it pronounced as "pay-lay," or "pell-a?" I'm not sure, but I never have to worry because I never talk about him. The last time I talked about him was in eigth grade I think.


Christina N. @ 2:53 PM