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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Sorry!!!! all time - is relative
Hey you guys, this is going to be a shitty entry, but my computer once again decided that it wants to detsroy everything I know and love, including diaryland, and so I am at the computer at my dad's work. So, most likely you won't get any updates until the comuter get's fixed, or I finally snap and beat my skull into the moitor, in which case, this would be my last entry. But that isn't likely to happen, so no worries. Talk to you soon!
Quote for the Entry: "If I could re-live one day, over and over agian, with no consequences, no deah, always waking up the next/previous day perfectly fine (groundhog day style), I would slit my throat, just to see if it hurt. That way, if any of my friends really wanted to kill themselves, I could be like, 'Dude, slit your throat, you don't feel a thing.'" -Jesse Schultz
She damn funny.
all time - is relative