Friday, April 29
Time for shitfaced amateur writer mode that does not require the sobriety (or lack of, whatever suits you) that is usually needed to read Christina's crap.

My mom agreed to let me go see the Dali exhibition in Philadelphia. We just have to check with my dad's schedule.

I now have permission to go into her room whenever I want to borrow any precious item of clothing I want.

In addition to that, she gave an extremely sexalicious tank and cardigan set to me claiming that it was too tight for her now. No pictures.

I think I understand this new mathematical portion in chemistry for once, not a single drop of sleep in class today at all. I couldn't anyway because I didn't want to ruin my mom's shirt in any way by leaning on furniture that's been touched by academy kids.

There was this horribly funky smell in desktop publishiing. I didn't want to work with the fear of that fucking smell sticking to my hair.

Patrick and Eric played this trick on me at lunch. The three of us were sitting on the steps outside and I go back in for a bit to go buy some Junior Mints. I come back out and see that they were not there. Then they come crawling out of this bush and scare the shit out of me. Har har ha ha very funny, great idea, Pat. But whenever I think back on it I fucking laugh, what a great memory. I cracked up so bad at myself that Raxa commented about how I was so fucking red.

We had a test in geometry. It was hard in some parts. I probably flunked anyway.

Fuck this I'm going to bed.


Christina N. @ 11:47 PM