bite your tongue young lady.

Sometimes you get kind of lonely and you want to have what Vince Vaughn has in Wedding Crashers... not the kinky sex, but the true love part. Ok, well the kinky sex too. Not that kinky though. At least I think. I guess I'm kind of straight-laced for all my talk back in highschool, but I'd rather play an arousing round of parcheesi than have a foursome with two Brazillian girls. But I would like to go to Brazil... and I don't know how to play parcheesi... so I guess the world is shades of gray.

Actually I don't think it's shades of gray... that's very depressing. As if we were watching life on a black and white TV. I hate black and white TV... I used to watch I Love Lucy on Nick at Nite, and I got so excited one day when I saw a color episode and realized her hair was red.

But what's even lonlier is the options out there. From what I've seen so far, I can have a tantalizing choice of old men with flannel shirts, hiking boots and a hat (and nothing else on), or drunk highschool guys with sleeveless t-shirts who terrorize Bridgeport movie theatres.

Maybe I really am becoming a housewife. I do the laundry and cook dinner and water plants and feel lonely and unappreciated and I get tired around 8pm. Ok... well not really. But somehow I've appropriated all the household chores and I feel like I don't have my own life anymore and my family just expects me to cook and clean and they get all upset when I want to go out with my friends because well, who's going to do the dishes and water the plants? And then I come home afterwards and they forgot about me and locked me out of the house and turned on the air conditioning super high even though I keep begging them not to kill their daughter by hypothermia. Geez... tomorrow night I'm putting alot of garlic in their food. Serves them right... garlic breath. Teach you to unappreciate me... I'm going to fuck the pool boy now! And dig a hole and fill it with water so we have a goddamn pool for the pool boy to clean!

But in the end all you need is a honey lavender steamer and everything will be ok. Life's too short to get upset about the little things. Someone murders your father, then you get upset. Then it's a family insult, then you have to avenge your family's honor. I'd get upset about that, I'd be out there avenging. Or stuff like when they don't let you put mango and red bean on shaved ice at the same time. That's way over the line. That crosses the line... so far over the line it's on a different beach.

Remember how I bit my tongue awhile ago? It still really hurts actually. If you look you can see scar tissue and little indents where I bit down. Probably I've managed to sever a good portion of my own tongue that I might possibly never regrow. We call this a novelty injury. Like getting a black eye from being hit with a ping pong ball.

And I decided what really pisses me off nowadays, is people that give a shit what other people think. What's the point of being self-conscious? The only people who would judge you are people who are insecure enough to judge others to make themselves feel more secure. Which means the judgers are even more self-concious. It's a vicious cycle... everyone is trying to impress everyone else. All the world's a stage. Like those stupid snotty girls that look you up and down, or the people that say "ew" out of context (like when talking about someone's outfit instead of maggots), or go places just to be seen by other people that want to be seen. Everyone is seeing each other. Like Anchi would say... "eeek... incest!"

Then again I'm a hypocrite too, because no one's perfect and just last night I was watching jeopardy and one of the contestants was just this scary looking woman, and both my mom and I at the same time were like, "ew." But I don't exclude myself from my own criticism, I'm a bitchy shallow girl. We all are sometimes. Hell awaits. mwahah.

On the other hand, I openly knit and I'm not ashamed of really liking grocery shopping and I am who I am and I'm not interested in pretending to be anything else for the sake of anyone else. For the most part I can tell when people kind of think I'm a loser, but mostly I just don't care. Because I don't think I'm a loser, not if I'm happy with who I am. Be proud of who you are... no one else can be you. Even if you're a melty mutant snowflake, you're one of a kind.

And I was going to load some happy pictures now of my one-of-a-kind friends sunbathing, smoking hookah and eating brownie boats at Pied Cow, but I can't find my USB cord! Nooo... cord cord come back where are you... you really ARE one of a kind... the stupid port on my camera doesn't fit any other USB cords! Only you my love... show yourself...

good night and enjoy the plopping sound from the rain and thunderstorm. i find it very soothing. *sigh* peace... plop plop...