Sometimes I wish I had a digital camera, so I could take pictures of stupid shit and entertain myself with my own captions. I think you kids trust me enough that I'm no camwhore who takes new pictures of myself in underwear in front of the mirror where you see yourself holding the fucking camera every five days. I really wish I could take pictures of things that I think look like vaginas or fatasses that I thought were Blimpie spokespeople. Or that one guy that I saw at the mall a few months ago that looked a hell of a lot like Izzy Stradlin. Now that seriously could've been useful for then.
Yes, it is still true that I fucking hate cameras and photography and such, but I only like polaroids mainly for the humorous prospect of using a camera. Other than that, I find photography to be such a fucking bore, seriously. It mostly comes from the fact that my father is a photographer, wedding videographer mainly, and whenever the family goes out somewhere special like on a vacation or something, we waste half of the fucking time taking ten steps down a sidewalk at a flowery park and take fifty fucking pictures for ten minutes. It's the slowest fucking process. What makes it even worse is that I'm not photogenic and during vacations I tend to eat a lot, which makes me a fat bloated fuck.
My dad even practices with his stupid fucking camcorder in the house on his family. He has footage of me when I was eleven eating cookies on the couch, nice and slow. I like to eat really slow and enjoy my food, unlike pretty much everybody else. And for your information, I think I learned from health class or something that if you don't eat as fast as Al Bundy fucks his wife, you digest your food faster or your metabolism is faster or some shit like that. I could be wrong, and my ears could be the problem.
We got dismissed early today due to snow. I've fucking had it with twenty degree eskimo weather coming right after a day of barefoot hippie sixty-five degree weather. It's true, yesterday was bright and sunny, almost seventy and today it drops to a fucking twenty-four and the entire northeastern area turned into my fucking freezer, frozen nuggets and all.
Then I had to leave home at around 2:30 to go to the doctor's. I got my prescription for birth control and I still can't stop laughing about it.
I don't want for tomorrow to come, B days could just suck it.
I'm sorry if I haven't been commenting on anybody's journals, unless it's a one-liner entry or I just read one line from your four-page entry. I should make it up to you folks someday, if you give me money first.
And I want this shirt.
Christina N. @ 8:17 PM
