Friday, September 30
Tomorrow my mom's taking me to Macy's and other places to shop because she has this $25 off thing to use. I'lm planning on trying to find a nice shrug and a new pair of shoes. Preferably a pair from the clearance section because she already thinks I have enough. Not really, just around seven pairs or so. Which is pretty much enough, but I got great feet, man. They need flare. I used to hate shoes to no end, claiming that nobody looks at them and the shirt always goes first. That is true. But then over this past summer I wore sandals so much that I started to actually check out my feet a lot. True story.

Last night I came to a conclusion: The more clothes I have, the more picky I become, thus getting sick of them more easily. It's a shame, really. I wonder if it's normal. Probably is, but it always counts for the rich bitches of the world who have closets the size of Robert Hinkley's shrine to Jodie Foster. I'm not one. I just tend to be annoying until I get whatever the fuck it is I want. But then again, maybe not, because I never really want CDs or video games or guitars or knick-knacks or books or posters or anything else, all I want is clothes. So as opposed to a well-rounded person buying lots and lots of varieties of shit, I just get tons of clothes. Pretentious, but hey, that's how assholes are.

Goddamn it, don't you hate it when something in your room smells like rhino ass and you have no idea what it is? Last time it was rotting uneaten bananas in the garbage bin and now I have no idea what it is. Sucks if it turns out to be me. Sucks even more if it's me and I'm around other people.


Christina N. @ 5:24 PM