Blah

Ugh.

I feel fat. Fat and ugly. Fat and ugly and disheveled.

My hair is a mess. My stuff is a mess. My socks have holes, and my car is falling apart in a million different ways.

Not feeling very cheery right now, can you tell?

Oh, headache too, how lovely.

You know, all I have to do is look in a mirror to start thinking things like, "Why the hell is Eric with ME? What does he even see in me?" etc. etc.

Anyway, I'm tired. That's it for now.

A, B, C, D, E, EFF

This is bee ess.

No one ever effing e-mails me.

I never get any effing e-mail.

Eff this.

What happened to the days when I was a giddy young slip of a thing, getting e-mail left and right because AOL was a new toy that I eventually had to cut myself from, lest the whole of me be thrown into the fire?

Oh right, those days were retarded.

And I don't have TIME anymore. Hell, I hardly have time to BLOG. BLOG, BLOG, BLOG, BLOG.... BLOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGG............

More dots make it cool.

...................................................

It's not just an ellipsis, it's a megallipsis!!!!!

People are morons.

I want to write a play titled Every Driver in Omaha is a Cocksucking Jackass.

And so I moved all my stuff into Eric's house, right? Well, there are things scattered hither and thither, and there is an old photo of my family's pet potbelly pig, Petunia.

And every time someone comes into Eric's room they stare at it and go "What the hell is THAT?" And we tell them - it's a pig. And they ask, in the same asstarded voice, "Well, what's it doing THERE?" As if somehow the photo of a pig is out of place, like you don't keep photos of pigs in a random spot sitting on a shelf because the room's unclean - it's as if they think we're actually keeping the PIG ITSELF in the room, or something.

Why do people ask effing asstarded questions like that?

I've been listening to Aqualung. They're good. If you don't agree, eff you.

Long Sunday Afternoon

Okay...

Eric's little brothers are driving me crazy, they keep coming into the room and being obnoxious and fighting. And to top it off, their FRIENDS just came through the door a little while ago. We need to discuss with them that this is our BEDROOM, and they cannot just...well, you get my point.

Show's still going well. I think we have a really great production. Melanie, John and Eric came Friday and loved it. April and Tim came Saturday, but it wasn't really April's kind of thing. She doesn't like depressing stuff. Which, I don't really find the play so much depressing as ironic and making a powerful social comment. Don and Lena came Saturday too, but they left before I could get out of costume to come see them.

I want to start writing again. I need to make the final revisions to Semblable so we can work sections of it, and possibly use that space in Benson.

I need to also get back to working on my long, long, LONG-term project with Meg. I need to actually just buckle down and plot-point the story so I can start scripting for her. Her character sketches were awesome, but so much has happened over the past 3 (4?) years that I just let it fall by the wayside.

I'm still trying to determine the details of the ending of the first book, Lespral Code. I need to determine the exact goal of the Archons and what the outcome will be with the battle between Orinx and Firin - and what happens to Abbigail? I'm still mulling that over, but if I write it out, I can get something tangible that I can fix and work with and keep straight.

I had dinner with my parents Thursday night - homemade spaghetti, garlic cheesebread, my mom's yummy salad (lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, feta cheese and some sort of mixed dressing)...I miss people who actually appreciate FOOD as it should be appreciated.

Everyone here is grossed out by really good things like artichoke dip and seafood and avocado - seriously, what the hell? It's difficult to eat anything without it being redundant or junk.

Well, I think that's it for now.

Oh - name of the day, which I found at work:

Annie Mary Gunn Lyon

Yup.