Mood: tired. like really tired. like, tired to the point where i've already cried today.
Music: anyone for tennis - cream
Color: white. the color of my freckle-y skin
Vice: staring at the ceiling... seriously... and last comic standing
Im beginning to question whether i make good decisions.
Lets study the facts:
case 1: Yesterday afternoon, I told Lesley that if i had time, i would watch Kill Bill 2 with her - which is something we've had planned for weeks. When i didnt hear from her at 8 (which is when she said her frisbee thing was over) i was talking to Nora online (around 8:45) and realized that i hadnt physically seen her for over 2 months. that is very sad. So i forced her (against her father's will) to go have tea with me at the beanery. Lesley calls me 15 seconds after Nora confirms our date to ask if i want to watch a movie with her. i tell her that i am going out with Nora, and she doesnt seemed too peachy keen with that.
point: I think i made 1 poor decision: i should have called lesley at 8 to see what was up.
the catch: it would have taken much longer to watch the movie because Nora and i only spent about an hour together, and THAT, my friends, is clearly not enough time to talk about her going to ukraine and having a wundebar time, and me going to USC and having it warp my mind forever.
not even close to enough time. I was home around 10. i needed my sleep anyway... too bad i didnt take it...
lesley, i feel really bad. im sorry. kill bill next week is alllll yours.
case 2: I recieve a phone call at 3AM from an enigma/halucination named "Daniel." We promptly discussed the burning of public shrubbery all the way through to del taco jack in the box. In the meantime, Dan ordered some chicken strips from Austin and got his barbeque sauce jacked by his partner in crime, while i ordered a strawberry milkshake and a broken pidgeon. I also requested some pink pinstripes. hah. inside jokes. anywho, one thing led to another and I realized it was 5:30 and i, indeed, had to get up in about an hour to go to work. so we said the usual "sweet dreams" and i fell back asleep. I awoke at 7 and decided it would be alright to TURN OFF my alarm, not snooze, and just close my eyes for one more minute. Suddenly, my mother was shaking me awake, it was 7:45, and i had work in 15 minutes. i threw on my "fat kid" cordoruys (they ugly gray ones that make me look HUGE... seriously. lesley calls them my fat pants...) because they were the only clean pants that weren't jeans (cant wear jeans to work even though NOBODY sees me in the office. i am invisable. anywho, put that on, a green tank top, and my shrunken red sweater. way too go, Nat. You're gonna have to pull your sweater to cover your stomach allllll day. The only good thing about the way i looked, is my Puma Romas. My new favorite shoes. I looked all blochy due to lack of makeup and serious hair prep.
point: next time i talk to Dan on the phone, i will have to limit how much time i spend talking at 3 AM
the catch: i enjoy talking to Dan very much because it is great to hear his voice and laugh with him. I miss ruffling his hair and putting on sock puppet shows with sam from under the bed. sigh. anywho, the catch is: he will probably continue to call for our occasional 3AM chat (which i LOVE) and i will continue to not get enough sleep because of it. trust me: its totally worth it. kind of like $11 in text messages for the month of july.
case 3 college essays are not that much of a task for me. So when it came to writing about my "most emotional moment" i pumped out a hilarious piece of shit that even my mom thought was cute. here is the intro... well... a majority of it...:
Sometimes, I cannot take things seriously. For example, this essay question: describe your most emotional moment and how it affected you. I could tell you some touching story about how I was traumatized as a child by the death of my first guppy, and how it has made me the stone-cold wench I am today, or I can be honest and tell you that I have matured to the point where I have recognized that I have repressed most of my "most emotional moments" to the back of my brain, where they have been beaten to an unrecognizable pulp that even a PET scan couldn't recognize.
However, I am lucky enough to recall a certain situation in which I can remember myself being emotional. I remember crying once, sure, and there was even an occasion when I felt bad for somebody. Nevertheless, when I am separated from the people I love, I can get very, very, emotional.
This was apparent in when the computer died. Not one of those silly computer collapses where you sit dumbfounded staring at a bright blue screen which reads that you've had some sort of "fatal error" and if you push "any key" it will "continue." Right. Like I would actually want the computer to "continue" its "fatal error." But when my computer died, it went out with a bang. I was out of town at the time. I came home 2 days later and I was told that it was gone. Gone? What is this "gone" they speak of? Like, "gone fishing?"
My computer had crashed, and it was gone to that big computer pasture in the sky. Well, maybe not pasture, maybe it was a corn field or something. But anywho, I had lost contact to the outside world. At least, that’s how I saw it. My internet: gone. My script that I had spent hours on: gone. My 5th grade poem about how I felt like I was "in a cave without a candle:" gone. All of it was gone.
They left the screen behind. The part with all the CD burners and disk drives was gone, but the screen still stood as a memory of what was once there. I occasionally sat in front of it. It appeared to have a staring problem, so I stared back into its electronic black-ness. At times, I could hear is laughing, almost taunting me from above.
it was voted by 2 parties that a serious essay for my "most emotional moment" woudl be more appropriate if i wrote about something serious. which is true. so i tried writing an essay about my trip to ukraine a few years ago and how it changed my perspective. i wrote it. it blew ass. and my mother wanted to crop it to the part where i talk about how my host family boiled water to make me a bath and how it was my most emotional moment.
that is pure bullshit. in no way was that my most emotional moment.
so my mother proceeded to talk about everything miserable that has happened in her life, i cried. she was like "but you've had it lucky" which is true. and then i realized, i do have it lucky, i cant write this essay. im giving up... for now.
point: i am royally screwed when it comes to this essay and i need to have something terribly emotional happen fast or i will be royally fucked up the butt by my college essays.
the catch: i have to do them by november. and i will probably end up "making it up" like my mother suggests. great. ill get into college as a LIAR.
ugh, bad mood.
anywho, thats case and point for now. you can clearly see that i suck ass at making decisions for myself and should be institutionalized until further notice. as of this moment, i am making plans with mackenzie for my "grande kidnapping" for my birthday. yeah, im planning my own kidnapping... dont you wish you could cruel cruel world?
here i come g-bomb...