My mom said she would see Moulin Rouge with me tonight, (I think she would like it, but she won't give it a chance because she doesn't like Nicole Kidman), and now she says she's not feeling good. Just like she doesn't feel good everytime I want to go driving, or go to Mya's, or go to Rasputin's, or if I want to show her Zim. Seriously, in terms of interaction, I am always like, 'come do something with me', and she retracts from me, much like she is the child and I am the parent who wants to be involved.
How beautiful is that? I am still in love with Jonathan Brandis. Perhaps I can convince my mother to take me to rent Ladybugs and other such Jonathan Brandis flicks.
(Why Katie, why? Why now the sudden infatuation when he has fallen off the face of the Earth and when you haven't had a famous crush for days. I think you just need more boy in your life. I agree.)
Which reminds me, I started reading Bridget Jones' Diary at around four and now I am about halfway through it and I must say that this Bridget leads a very ho-hum life, and if I am that way at thirty-something I am definitely going to either do something to cause premature senility or kill myself.
I want to be exciting forever. And I think I have found my senior quote: "I am going to live forever or die in the attempt" I ripped that off from Joseph Heller, but of course I will credit him.
And I think my hair will be purple with pink bangs (maybe, I'm not sure yet, I'm seriously thinking about buying a wig though, or doing extensions of some sort, but I must stay true to my abnormal-hair-colour-ness.)
What does rheumatism mean? I love to say it, and I'm not sure it's a real word. I think it's a disease where all of your blood dries up and since powder can't flow through your veins, you die. But I am probably terribly wrong.
If only I had a webcam I could show everyone before and after pictures of my room.
I'm off to rent Ladybugs and research other such J.B. material so that I can have my fix, sadly, there is no new Zim, so that's just not doing it for me anymore.
I want Adobe Photoshop and a goddamn scanner.
I love how Mya always greets me "What's up mah nigga?" That makes me laugh. I am so white that I could blind you in the bright sunlight. I need to find my chill room sign. It is missing hardcore.
I miss Mya. I should go to the DMV and force them to give me my license at knife-point, 'cos I really need it. Especially since my parents are going senile and if I don't get it they will have to wait goddamn three years for my brother to get his (and they think he'd be a better driver, but he is an idiot, and a reckless boy, and has ADHD, but I must suck more because I am the fucked-up first child). Much bitterness.
Off to find Jonathan. Love. Drool. Sex.