Eating: Um... life?
Drinking:Dasani water
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
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I need someone to make me chicken noodle soup. all time - is relative
I am so amazingly sick.... It is not even funny. I have giant coughing fits that leave me weak and pale. I had to sleep last night at the most uncomfortable angle so I could breathe slightly better and not suffocate in my sleep. That would suck. I wonder what would happen to this diary. Peter would probably find a way to hack in and post an entry, declaring the fact that I'm dead or some whatnot. And also my mom has a spilting migrain. We are a happy household, no?
I realized that it would probably be better for the male side of the human race if I was a full-flegded lesbian, instead of just bi. That way, I could just go, "Whoops, sorry, I was interested in your sister," whever they try to declare their love for me. But unfortunately, I am addicted to testosterone, and could not live by estrogen alone. By the way, they is this extremely beautiful girl at school who I seriously think is harboring bisexual tendencies. She's 'accidently' groped me far too many times for it to be a coincidence. Not that I mind...
Quote for the Entry: "Ghhhaa..." -The noise I kept making last night as I was trying to breathe. That and the coughs. I sounded like a soundtrack for ER.
all time - is relative