Sunday, May 31, 2009


I went for a bike ride today. I feel okay. Not good, but not bad either. Just neutral. I think I'm really going to start playing my ukulele for realzies this time. All of my boyfriend's friends (plus The BF too) are musicians or singers in some way. I'm neither and that makes me feel like an outsider. I'm going to learn the ukulele and be cool like everyone else.

Fuck, this one girl sings and plays the SAW!!! Who even plays that as an instrument? And there's all these weird drums and shakers and things in every house we go into.

Today we met some hula hoop girls who also surface juggle at breakfast at a friend's house. It was cool, but weird too. They were pretty au natural if you know what I mean. Hairy armpits and legs and big eyebrows. They all dreaded their hair and wore fucked up crazy hobo outfits. Oh, and of course, NO BRAS! Big saggy tits with nothing to restrain them. I love seeing that while I'm trying to eat my blueberry pancakes. Like huge gross nipples.

The BF's best friend is leaving on a month long bike trip. Thank fucking God. If they spent any more time together I'd think they were jacking each other off every night!

It will be nice to not have to compete for attention for a while.

Sometimes I just feel so fucking outside of everything, you know what I mean? Like I'm alienated everywhere I go. I hate that. I do it to myself, for sure, but I still hate it. And I hate myself for it too.

And I wish I could sing really good. That would solve a lot of my problems. Being a better singer is something I should work on.

Saturday, May 30, 2009


Last night I listened to Lucky by Radiohead and when the chorus came I burst into tears. I wrapped my pink belt around my neck as tight as I could. I could feel my pulse in my throat and I felt my face turning red. When I started to get dizzy I loosened up. I did this several times. Then I wrote the word slit on both my wrists with a black gel ink pen. I thought it looked cool. I tried sharpening my knife so it would slice my skin easier but I don't really know how to properly sharpen a knife and I think I may have actually made it duller. That's just as well I suppose.

I went to bed after 2 in the morning. My wrist looks like the cat faintly scratched me. I'm pathetic.

I'm also buying half an ounce of weed today and smoking as much of it as I can in one sitting. Perhaps then I'll go for a bike ride to counter act the negative impact smoking has on my lungs.

Friday, May 29, 2009


Nobody's read my blog for about a month now. I thought I was being so positive too...

The BF and I got into a fight about laundry today. It was an all out war. He hasn't washed his clothes in literally a month. Every article of clothing he owns is in a heaping pile in the walk-in closet.

I'm not sure when the last time he wore clean socks was. He just picks through them to find another pair. Same with jeans and shirts and gitch. Fucking disgusting. He smells.

I said if you don't deal with this I'm putting your laundry somewhere you don't want it to be. He never did his laundry so I moved every last article into his studio. I covered the entire floor with his dirty clothes.

His car is broken and he's been using mine for the last two weeks. I put my foot down last night and said take the bus you scab! So he did. He comes home late from work. He's in a terrible mood. He takes one look at his laundry and explodes.

Everything with him is "I'll do it later" "I'll do it tomorrow" "Another time" "Not right now."


Now! NOW! I said to him. DO IT NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!

I got in his face and shoved him a bit. Lots of finger wagging and pointing. I said get it done.

He wanted to take a nap. I told him he would never be able to fall asleep because I would standing over his head screaming at him to wash his laundry. He tried anyway and failed horrible. I nagged in his ear as hard as I could. I even attempted to push him off the bed. This really agitated him.

"Why are you acting like such a crazy bitch?" he says.
I grabbed a pair of scissors and said, "You want crazy? This is crazy! Go wash your clothes before I fucking stab you!"

I jabbed my scissors into his general direction for good measure.

It took a good thirty to forty-five minutes of yelling and abuse before he conceded and took his clothes to the washing machine. I told him he could nap on the huge leather couch in the laundry room if he was sooooo tired.

After he brought his clean laundry upstairs I made him hang it up and put it away properly. I also got him to change the lightbulbs he kept saying he'd do and never did. And I got him to change the kitty litter and take out the recycling.

He is such a lazy, dirty, fucker.

I wish for once, just once, he'd show some initiative and pride in himself. Like, seriously, wear clean socks every day for fuck's sake! I can't even believe him sometimes.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I So Called It

My father has
- no job
- no vehicle
- no groceries
- no credit and no way to build credit. I think he has negative credit.

Soon to have no utilities, and before you know it, no apartment! Hooray!

Seriously, 4 days ago I told my friends THIS was going to be the year my dad moves in with me. He's flat broke and now any prospect he ever had of finding a job has been completely diminished to nothing. Living in a rural area with no transportation makes it quite difficult to get groceries, pay bills, get a job.

What happened was his tranny died in his truck. It turned out to be a $900 repair and my dad simply can't afford it. His birthday is a week before father's day. I talked it over with my sister and she said she could give me a couple hundred bucks, but I think I'm going to pay for the repairs on his truck.

He's got to have a vehicle if he wants to get a job. He can't even get to a bank without a vehicle.

I told Dad to just move in with me already, but he's not giving up hope yet. He says he still has some tricks up his sleeve. He's going to take his bike around town and talk to some people. Try to spread the word that he's looking for a job, any job, doing anything, any position available at all, paying any wage!

Good for him. He's a tough man. He's trying so hard. It kills me to watch him struggle so much. He's 62. It shouldn't be this bad. He's been in the same rut for 8 years now and there doesn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel.

I so fucking called it.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Something Happened

You know when you think something is going to happen, and you're like, yeah I know for sure this going to happen, but then when it doesn't happen you're kind of disappointed, and you say to yourself, oh well, I kind of knew that it would turn out this way, even though earlier you "knew for sure it was going to happen."

That's kind of how I feel right now.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Modern Ann Frank

I think the storm has passed. I know that for the rest of my life I'll probably be paranoid. I'll probably be anxious and claustrophobic. I'll probably be depressed.

But for right now, I feel fucking fantastic. I found my old diaries and I started reading them for hours. God, to be 13 again! I was so excited about life, the world, and growing up. I was boy crazy and felt pretty. Where did that young girl go? She used to be so vibrant.

How did she mature into this gloomy cloud? I don't know.

Life fucking sucks the dick, but I need to get out in the world anyway. I want to go where I've never gone before. I'm not ready to die. There's too much shit to do and I want to do it before I can't.

Gotta see the world before it ends. Before the mountains erode to nothing; before all the rivers and lakes dry up into mud pits; and before all the forests are chopped barren and form large deserts. Gotta leave the country before Big Brother cracks down on international travel and implements newspeak.

Then I'll write about it in my journal. Hopefully I'll have children and grandchildren to pass my writings on to. They can read my adventure long after I'm gone. Maybe then my life will have meaning.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

The Nook

I zoned out at breakfast this morning. We were at The Nook. The BF was boring me and wouldn't stop talking about things I already know, so I didn't even pretend to listen. I just zoned out.

Plus, I don't know why I always order pancakes when I go out to eat because I really don't like pancakes. They seem like a good idea at the time, but they're too heavy and gross me out after just a few bites. I ate literally half my stack. The BF ate his stack plus the rest of my stack too.

He's going to get fat one day and it will be all my fault. Well, one third my fault. He doesn't eat breakfast and his lunch consists of Mr. Noodles and an apple, or maybe a burger and fries. Blah.

After we're married and have kids I'm going to enforce family breakfast hour, family exercise time, and family board game night.

I'm craving mozzerela flavoured cheetos right now. Damn that would taste so good! They don't sell them where I'm from and that disappoints me.

I'm hungry all the time. I'm going to get fat one day too. I used to care, but now I kind of don't.

Saturday, May 2, 2009


I had a birthday party. I didn't want to have it, but I planned it anyway and The BF kind of forced me to go through with it.

I plotted to hang myself in the bathroom while all my party guests were there. I didn't have any rope and I drank so much I blacked out. Then I told one of my friends my plan because I was so drunk I wasn't really thinking. She started to cry.

Then she left and The BF had to take care of me. He stole my pocket knife from me so I wouldn't cut myself, and I said I was going to hang myself anyway. He was upset and told me to get some help.

It's been a week and I haven't yet. I don't think I will. But you never know.

My perfect eloping plan has failed. The BF said he couldn't go through with it so I punched him and cried about it. Then I came to my senses and we arranged a compromise.

I picked out some rings online that I fancy to show The BF. Mostly Classic Solitaire Round Cuts. I told him if we can't elope my way he damn well better buy me the perfect engagement ring!

I hate weddings. I'm going to hate my own wedding. Weddings don't even mean anything you know? For example, my father was married 3 times and divorsed 3 times. My mother married my dad because she was knocked up. Seriously, if this is what I have to look forward to than fuck it!

My wedding will be small. 20 people tops. Immediate family only type thing. I've picked out my maid of honour and The BF picked out his best man. We shall be married by justice of the peace type deal in a forest somewhere. (Not my idea! I wanted to go to Australia!)

And it will be lovely. Fucking lovely marriage bliss!