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Feeling: Calm. Loving my life. |
Eating: Um... life?
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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Today is: 2002-11-21 - @ 7:07 p.m.
Whee: Irony!!! all time - is relative
Blah. The base of my skull hurts right now. Actually, the muscles surrounding that area, but you know what I mean. Anyways, I'm in pain nonetheless.
I really want to write a good entry, but the pain is making it almost impossible, and I am also getting these hot flash-thingies. Not good. Specially since I am under 30. I'll make an attempt at an entry though. However, if in the middle of my entry you see a bunch of randomly pressed keys and then it stops, it probably means I fainted face foward onto the keyboard. Call Peter and tell him to make sure I'm ok. Anyways.
I believe people do not enjoy all of their senses enough. Seriously. When was the last time you really stopped and thought about how the wind felt on your skin? Sun can help ward off certian types of depression. Types of scents can help with different types of illnesses. I love it.
I am having a chocolate shake for dinner. My mom went to bed early becuase she wasn't feeling well, and so she left it up to me to care for myself, becuase it is not feasibly possible for my dad to make an actual dinner. But when he came home, he offered to make me a chocolate shake. I accepted, obviously. So he gives me this massive glass filled almost competely to the top with a chocolate shake. Then he stand there, blender poised above the glass, asking if I wanted more. I declined, obviously. Then he somehow gets chocolate syrup all over his glasses, the ones he wear on his head, and wanders around like that for a few minutes until he finally realizes that he can't see. Afterwards he tells me not to make a mess as I am sitting on the computer, and I casualy reply that I never make a mess (A LIE!!! A BLATANT BOLD-FACED LIE!!!) just as I am taking a drink. It is stuck, so I shake it a bit, to jar it loose. A long finger of chocolate shake flies up and gets me smack dab in the eye. Irony... goddamm irony... it is only funny when it doens't happen to you.
Quote for the Entry: "Life is something that dies when you stomp on it." -Dave Barry
Yeah, I know, it's morbid, but you know you wanted to laugh when you read it.
all time - is relative