you know what? you're still a bitch.

Now honey, there's no "I" in "FRIEND."

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, there is!!!

wow. blog, yet another bitchy sessionsbrings me to your graceful presence. and its all about assholes.

too bad, i can't really bitch about it enough before it becomes personal to those i wish to bitch about...so alas! i shall refrain.

but i will say how i feel: i feel shitty. like Sketchy McSketch...minus the sketch plus the shit, so i become more like Shitty McShitser. and its not really a feeling easily cured by ignoring or pretense. it actually feels shitty on the inside. wow. i didn't know i got depressed on fridays! usually it's only a sunday thing, but i guess its creeping its way through my entire weekend. who knew i could be so predictable? every little fucking thing that bothers me is sooo fucking normal. cliche. boring. lame. why can't i have real problems to worry about? real things that could keep my mind off petty shit like friends who are, in reality, only temporary and friends who really put the "I" in the word (cus there's no fucking "ME" in friend. only "I"<-- "I" referring, of course, to the other fucking douche bag).

alas. fate. i understand this is only my comeuppance. though i wish i knew what i did to deserve it so at least i could appreciate it more. its like going to jail for killing someone-- i mean, you're in jail cus you fucking killed someone (ala LAURA BUSH). but i feel like i went to jail, and, while there are numerous little things i've done around the block that are worthy of a little bad karma (e.g. throwing rocks and chipping a kid's tooth...among other things), i still don't know what got me here.

bad investment. that's what i'll say it is. bad investment. putting your eggs in the wrong fucking basket, but...the saddest part-- its too late in the game to start moving the eggs elsewhere. they're all broken. there's another sad part too: i'm too lazy to get any new ones...so i think i'm just stuck with the broken eggs until the whole "college" thing is done with.

and every once in a while, particularly on sunday, i realize i'm stuck with all these broken fucking eggs...and i ask why i still have them and what the hell i'm doing with them. then i realize, "hey- its just sunday! you're hypersensitive...you're on a low from your high. alas! these are the machinations of sundays! they soon shall pass"...but now. its friday. friday...like the beginning of a weekend. before saturday, after thursday...a weekend is ahead of me and i should be happy, but i'm not.

because my eggs are really broken. and they rot and they stink.

the only problem: you know the saying "is the glass half full or half empty". well, every once in a while, i'm led on to think that "hey- those aren't just broken eggs! those are yummy scrambled eggs waiting to be dished up for my wonderful little belly to eat! and everyone can have some and everyone will be happy and we can frollick in a field of daisies screaming 'fuck bush!' and eat lots of flowers and mushrooms and giant gummy bears like they do in Charlie and the Chocolate factory."

and i get led on to think that all is well.

but they aren't. damn those eggs. i'll be stuck with them for a while cus i just can't enough to get rid of them. and besides, everyone seems to be okay with their eggs in their baskets-- who would want me. i dunno. i woudln't take me. i suck. (haha. yes. i do. i suck).

well, there's my rant for you blog. a lovely, long, rant about the shit in my life. yes. i should be grateful for many great things in my life-- and i truly am. i'm smart, i can walk, i have hearing and sight (granted i wear glasses), i don't have down syndrome and i'm at a wonderful university and i have a happy and healthy family and a lovely dog and lots of super duper fucking things about my fucking life.

but, maybe, the thing that i really care about the most just isn't there.

and, for lack of being melodramatic, that blows.