My warped little world...

I am pregnant.
16 weeks and one day, to be exact.
Jeffrey and I are quite content with this, though I have been quite the handful.
I'm awful tired though, as is the norm for myself, though I figured I'd update this blasted thing.
Cheers.

This is just a test.


angry

the original

big smile

crazy

crying

happy

looking up

with a nose

pondering

in shock

small face

serious

pondering w/serious

tard

Well let's see. I have no money, though I've made numerous petty coin donations to ONE donation.
Because I love it.
Sick Kids Hospital donations.
They're angels.
=]

First storm of the year ladies and gents, and it was a fantastic one.
I was out in the garage watching it, instead of sitting on my butt playing games. The power inevitably went out, which means so did my internet, but that's alright. I was too busy watching the lightning, and feeling the boom boom booming thunder, as sheets of water flooded my street.
It was great.
So amazing.
The weather's started to calm down now, but it's still raining.
Oh how this little Rainbow loves her rain.
Cheers.

I would pick The Scarlet Letter  by  Nathaniel Hawthorne. Only because it is such a delicious read, and definitely my number one favourite book.
=]

So I'm a nurse now, working as a PSW (Personal Social Worker, or more commonly known as a Personal Shit Wiper.) and Jeffrey and I have moved into our own little home. It's a basement apartment, and there are no neighbour wars because the people living upstairs we've known for years. He's known Tiffany for nine years, I've known her for six. I babysit for her, work with her, and hang out with her. Not too fond of her boyfriend, though no one really is what with the way he treats her. Their roommate is acceptable though, because he's a super huge vidiot. I consider him a kid, he's only just turned nineteen.

SO MY FREAKY DREAM.
Just last night. Really eerie. It was sort of a reocurring dream, sort of. What happened was I was in a HUGE store, and I was wanting to buy a Teddy Bear, but it was huge. Like way huge. It was a "Special Edition" bear in memory of the CEO of the store or something. I can't quite remember. BUT. I had only seen pictures of it and I couldn't find the bear anywhere in the store, so I went to ask for help. The employees were all up on a SUPER HIGH loft thing, working on computers. I stood down by one of the ladders (because there were no stairs. ;o; ) and automatically a young gentleman approached the edge of the loft and asked if I needed any help. I informed him of the bear I was looking for, he disappeared for a moment, and then came back with a bear the size of me. I got all excited and started clapping my hands and jumping up and down saying "THAT'S THE ONE! THAT'S IT! I'LL TAKE IT!" and with a smile, he asked me to come on up so I could sign some papers.
It was a VERY Special Edition Bear. xD
The bear came with a certificate, and the bear was named after the CEO who had just passed. I remember seeing the cursive writing saying the name "George McAffe" and when I asked him why the Bear had that name, the employee told me it was a Memorial Bear and blah blah blah, I remember I got hot flashes from standing on a loft so high without the railings and I got dizzy. I don't remember dreaming myself down, but apparently I did because next thing I know, I'm getting into my brother's old Talon and his DARLING ex girlfriend Manders is driving it. I showed her the bear, and she offered to drive me home because it was raining. Then I woke up to Jeff's alarm / Jeff himself. I forgot I had to work today. -_-

ANYWAY.
First thing I do: Make a pot of coffee, hit up google. I always google dreams if there's a name and or date involved. Turns out there's no "George Mcaffe" of significant interest to Google, but there IS a "George McAfee"... So I clicked on the link.
He was a football player, who died last month on the 4th... He played for the Chicago Bears.
o_O

And I went out to have a smoke this morning.
It pissed some horrible rain last night.
It was just weird.
>.>
That is all for now.

My preferred way? Screaming and throwing sticks at the STUPID sky.

D:<

 

I usually end up getting what I want.
xD
 

take the WHAT BAD BOOK ARE YOU test.


and go to mewing.net. not as good as reading a good book, but way better than a bad one.

I'm awful.

It seems as of late I've been yearning for someone to talk to.
Someone who will listen.
Someone who I can trust not to repeat a syllable.
I can't find them.

I don't think they exist.

Oh my fucking god.
Wii Fit is amazing.
That is all.

Well. I've come to a slight conclusion. I apparently don't feel like dying just yet. At least, not in the way that brought the subject to my attention. It was far to ... well, let's just say it hit too close to home with me, shall we? Here's what happened.

It was about one in the afternoon, and Jeffrey and I were out for a drive, he was intending on taking me out for lunch before we traveled out of town to pick up mom from work. We were in the South end of town, he had to get some car jacks for the Ford. Then we saw a gas station offering 1.28 per litre, which amazed us 'cause it's the lowest price we'd seen here. He was originally going to wait until we'd finished eating, but upon seeing that sign, he jumped at the chance. Right at the lights, while we were waiting to turn into the gas station, the oil light came on, and we were both confused, being as how my brother had just serviced the car (including an oil change) just the day before. Needless to say, when we pulled up to the pump, he popped the hood and checked the oil. Empty. Completely dry. He filled it up. We couldn't get any gas, because that pump was on some mental binge, so we decided to just go and eat, and leave the gas for afterwards, as we'd originally planned.

When we'd gotten onto the road again, not five minutes after filling it up, the oil light came on and it started beeping at us. Confused, we pulled in and Jeff threw another bottle of oil in. I was sitting in the passenger seat, checking the time, and I look up because I see Jeff start to freak. What do I see? Flames. I'm in the car, and the engine was up in flames. I didn't stay seated very long. I ran into the gas station, and I'll be brutally honest. My legs were barely holding me up. It was the most horrible thing that I've ever been objected to, judging by how dad left us, I have always been paranoid, but not so terrified. And to think, this all happened, whilst we were parked beside the gas pump... It WAS going to be another attempt at getting gas. Jeffrey put the fire out, thank god... But I really wasn't too keen on getting back in that car so fast. I sat on the curb and had a few smokes before Jeff dragged my shaking ass into that car. The first thing we did was call Eric at work, and tell him to get ready 'cause we were on our way to see him so he could tell us why the fuck we almost went up in flames in a damned explosion. The oil light beeped at us the entire way there.

So we get there, fill Eric in on all that went down, and he said he'd look at it, and we decided to go in and get something to eat at the mall. I called mom and told her what happened, and said we'd be late coming to get her, being as how when we pulled into the shop, we should have been leaving for Beeton. However, the only thing my mom could muster was "Are you two alright?". Apparently she'd been having one of those "Hell Days" at work, and when she got off the phone, all she could say was "My car set on fire..." and I felt awful, but this isn't exactly something that I really wanted to hide from her. I didn't know if it was even safe to drive, and I wasn't going to have my mother gallivanting about in some damned death trap.

So when we were finished, we went back to go and see Eric, and he told us that there was a leak and the oil was filtering into the engine. Oh how WONDERFUL. First the tire rods, then the brakes, now it's a mobile bomb? What next? I swear, my mother should just invest in a new car. My brother said that in town driving should be fine, as long as we give it some cool down time, and keep an eye on it, until he replaces the head gasket or whatever that thing is. I'm fairly car illiterate.

But my conclusion is, when I saw the fire in front of me, I didn't hesitate, I didn't even think. I just ran out of the car. For that, I would say that I am not quite ready to die yet my friends. Though all I could think of was dad...

So I haven't slept yet. I know. Nothing new. However, last night, while not sleeping, it was different. I was tired, and I was trying to sleep. I WANTED to sleep. I just couldn't do it. I lay there, in my bed, with my eyes closed, and then open, and then closed, and then open again, until six o' clock when I finally decided to say to hell with it, and play some games on my laptop. I became very, very angry this morning.

It was this sudden, overwhelming feeling that perhaps I might finally snap. Go mental. Punch a baby for real. That sort of thing. I'd call it a midlife crisis, but hell, I don't know when I'm going to die, so who am I to say when the middle of my life occurs? So I'm just going to say, I'm currently experiencing a Brutal Crazy Overdose. I've had too much to think about, and not enough removed from my thoughts.

I thought perhaps writing would fix me. That, obviously, has been a failed project, a thousand fold. I can't write, not even if my life depended on it, though right now, if my life DID depend on it, I'm not sure I'd write anyway. I'm in one of those funks. The one where I'm currently not satisfied with ANYTHING in my life, and I want to change it all. I want to run away and create a whole new life. PRESS THE FUCKING RESET BUTTON ALREADY. I feel like I've failed too many times in my past to actually have a future.

The pain in my abdominal section has actually become increasingly worse, and Jeffrey continues to tell me to make another doctor's appointment, though I'm sure it's merely because he's upset that I refuse to have sex anymore. I am constantly telling him that I'll make the appointment, but then when I'm alone and the pain hits me, for merely a moment, I sit there and I think to myself, there's something horribly wrong with my insides, and one day, THIS will be the death of me, and why would I want to go about changing that? Why don`t I just die the way Fate has it set out for me? It's sort of like my reset button, no? It isn't suicide, I'd get my reincarnation, and start all over. But then I feel awful for thinking that, knowing that I'd break my family's hearts. Me being the caring girly girl that I am, I just can't bring myself to do that, and yet, I'm still so hesitant to call the doctor. It's like the slight chance of me dying is the one piece of sanity I have left to cling onto.

Amidst ALL of this madness, my moods have become ballistic. One minute I'm contemplating my own demise, through natural causes, no need to worry of any suicidal tendencies, don't get your panties in a bunch my friends; and then the next minute, I'm so overly happy my face hurts from all of the smiling and laughing. But then I'm upset with being happy, because then I remember that I'm still in my damn funk, and I think to myself, I'm merely putting on a massive charade for everyone around me! This has been building up in me for MONTHS. I think now, I am finally about to snap.

I no longer care about the pain, I no longer care about other people's opinions, whether I should or not. I just don't care about a god damn thing anymore. I don't want to be touched, I don't want to be social, I don't want to do anything, other than wallow in my own nothingness until I can finally figure out what's going on inside my own head. I can't even ask other's for help. Now, I know that those of you who actually read this are going to think to yourself "You can always come to me Coley!"... Well, some of you at least.... But the truth is, no. No I can't always come to you. For one, the entire world knows I hate burdening others with my issues, and for another, if I don't know how to help myself, how the hell can I expect someone else to be able to help me? I don't care what anyone says, I just know that this is something I have to sort out for myself. But I can't seem to do it. It's taking much longer than I've expected. I thought I would have been fine by now, but it seems like with every passing day, the pressure for perfection grows and grows and grows, until I do quite literally feel like I have the whole world on my shoulders.

This morning, I wanted to hurt someone. Didn't care who, I just wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to go downtown, start a fight. I wanted to make someone scream, just so I could laugh at them. I want someone to start a fight with me. I don't really want it, I just want to hurt someone.... But even then, THAT'S NOT RIGHT. And very bad for my Karma, but I've gotten to the point where I feel like people have been abusing my brain, to the extent where I can barely feel anymore. I don't even think that makes sense, and I know that what I just wrote isn't the way I wanted to say it, nor did I write down the things that I wanted to say.

Some of you may have noticed that I've rarely been online, and for those of you who actually see me (or used to see me) on a daily basis, you may notice that I rarely even leave my room, unless it's a necessity, or for a coffee run. For that, I'm sorry. I'll say this now, I'm not dead, I'm just so horribly confused, and feeling a bit ill. For a while Jeff thought I was pregnant, but no one need worry about that. I failed that test. Honestly though, if this is what pregnancy entails, I'd have the abortion clinic on speed dial.

My thought process consists of only one thing nowadays:
Run away.

So I don't have anything solid to write about, and I haven't thought of anything to write about, so I'm just going to write.
It seems that Livejournal would be the appropriate place for me to do this, because when I "just write", I can never put it towards my novel. I have to spill what's inside of me to clear out the clutter in my brain, try to get my ideas sorted out.
But no matter how much I do that, I just can't seem to get rid of my damn Writer's Block.
Oh how agonizing.
I'm trying to just sit myself in front of my laptop, and write, but then I just want to rip out all of my hair and scream, because I find myself staring at a blank screen, trying so hard to type, but nothing happens. My hands won't push the keys, my brain goes blank.
I need to get rid of this block, and fast. I've tried nearly everything. I can see it in my brain, clear as a memory, but I just can't apply it. What am I supposed to do when I'm an Author, and I have deadlines to abide by? This whole thing is ridiculous.
Tell me, dollies, how do I get rid of it?
Looking for advice.
Thinking of meditation, but I don't see how good it will do me.
Love you all,
Rainbow.

Why the fuck isn't anyone updating their Livejournals?
D:<
You guys better have good excuses.
=[

So what better way to update my livejournal other than that of a descriptive nightmare? Or at least, as descriptive as I can make it. It was during a catnap yesterday, so it's all pretty fuzzy now. But it was very odd. Definitely something that gave me a start. Let us begin, shall we?

So it started out with mom deciding to buy an old rotted out mansion somewhere in another country. When she'd told us about it, she said "Brace yourselves for the move, because we're
leaving tomorrow." and needless to say I was startled. Jeffrey came with us.

I remember the property was serene. There was so much woodland area, but all around the house it was hills rolling with heath. The house itself was beautiful. It was gray stone, with blue tinges around the borders and the pillars. I'll never be able to fully describe what it looked like, other than the fact that even in my dream it took my breath away. To me, it appeared between a mixture of an old Irish castle, and one of my old houses.

Now the household tradition came upon us. Picking our bedrooms, and then exploring the rest of the house. Mom had gotten a good deal on the house, and so I was convinced that there was something wrong with it; however, I shoved that notion into the back of my mind as I was captivated by the inside of the house. I'll never find the words to describe anything I saw, except my bedroom.

Jeffrey and I both fell in love with one room, already furnished. It was magnificent. There were three wall length windows, very wide, and one balcony which had very large doors. Long, white, silk curtains covered them all, though the windows and one balcony door was open, so the curtains danced in the wind. There was a vanity, not a speck of dust on it, made of what looked to be pure ivory. There were vines engraved about the edges of the mirror, and the drawers had the most lovely gothic ornaments engraved into them. There was a stool to match, which looked much like one of my mother's stools, with a round surface to sit, and there were paws at the ends of the legs, little metal paws, with what I'd assume to be large clear marbles clasped in each paw, bearing what looked like dragon's talons. Oh yes, the vanity was something indeed my friends. Next is the bed. THE MAGNIFICENT BED! My god, it was enormous! There could have slept about five or six people in that bed, with arm room to spare! It was covered in a white duvet, with silken white pillows, and falling onto it was like falling onto a cloud, if a cloud had anything to actually fall onto inside of fall through. Anyway, I noticed that at the end of the bed, the foot board appeared as though it was broken, but more like it was sliced in half. With what, I could not tell you. But it was odd, and the only thing in the room that I did not like.

So I slept the first night. Jeff, as he would in reality, wouldn't have woken through a hurricane, and yet, once again, as I would in reality, I lay there staring at the ceiling, not able to sleep. There's always something on my mind when I try to sleep. It appeared that every time I would close my eyes, a small yellow orb would begin floating outside one of the windows. It was actually yellow only on the inside, and it gave off an outer, more fainted blue sort of glow. It was soothing, somewhat... but it sent me off in a troubled sleep.

I woke up the next day, and called a psychic / medium over to the house, so that she could perhaps answer to me what I saw. She stood in my room, with her head down, and her eyes closing back tears. I jumped off of the bed, and asked her what was in the room with us. This is the story she told me.

"Many years ago, there was a newly wed couple, the happiest two people this world did ever see. That is why what happened is so horrifying, you see? No one would ever have seen it coming. It's an old legend here in the village, but it's a nasty one. This house has been quite vacant since. They had bought this house, making it their very first home as a family. It was why they wanted such a large house, so that they could have many, many children. It was the husband's wish, at least. No one knows the details of what conspired the night after their wedding. All we know is that the husband went delusional, completely mad, butchering his wife. He sliced her face open, he tore strips of flesh from her, he cut off her fingers and toes, and removed her eyeballs, all the while with her mouth sewn. He did it right there, in that bed, and then, after he had finished with her, and her last tear was squeezed out, he had killed himself. No one understood why, no one ever will I daresay..."

And with that, she left. She just LEFT. Not telling me anything, but somehow, I knew that it was the bride that was trying to come back into the room, into her bed, to get her revenge. On WHOM? Where lies revenge with a man who already looks like he's dead as he sleeps, and a woman who cannot sleep at all? But I suppose nightmares are not supposed to hold just reasons within them, so let's carry on.

That night, I knew I would not be sleeping. Not after hearing the story of the newly weds. I couldn't understand how Jeffrey slept so humbly beside me, like an infant. Then I saw the orb again, floating towards the window. I was startled, but I wasn't about to let it in. The window began to open from the inside, to let the orb in, and I remember I sat up in the bed and in my head I said to myself "No no no no no... Please god no don't let her in..." and then, in the oddest way, a baby mouse leaped from underneath the bed, onto the window sill, and stood there. As though it were there to capture her soul, the window slammed down again, and the orb dissipated. When the mouse was satisfied, and I dared breathe again, it scurried back under the bed. But just as soon as the mouse left, the orb returned, at a different window. I did try not to panic this time, as I thought that the mouse would return, and scare her off a second time, however, it did not, and as before, the window lifted itself, and this time, the orb elegantly floated into the bedroom.

When she entered the room, the windows all opened, and the balcony doors as well, as her golden/yellow/pale blue lights flickered to a blinding white, and the light grew, revealing what she must have once looked like. She was the most beautiful bride I had ever laid eyes on. Her hair was blonde, and it daintily flowed to her waist, still with the veil atop her head. Her gown was magnificent, that much I remember, though I do not remember too much detail, however, I can say that it looked like it had quite a plain shape to it. Her eyes were a lovely blue, and they were so lively, and they glistened, almost as if she had just been crying, but you couldn't see a trace of it anywhere on her face. And her smile. It was innocent and beautiful, and it made me smile as well. She looked like a young woman who loved the whole world, just for being the world.

I felt like she had hypnotized me, and perhaps she had. I could not take my eyes off of her, and I could not move. I merely watched her as she glided from the window towards the bed, though she went towards the foot of the bed. It was when she came increasingly closer that I began to realize the malevolence of her last night alive... and it was not usually a custom for a ghost to forgive, am I right? My heart began to beat faster, and yet, she remained in the state of her beauty. She laid her hands on the foot board, running her fingers where it had been split. I was trying ever so dearly to wake up Jeffrey. I don't know why. He wouldn't have been able to help me, for he was as useless as I against her. I turned away from him and back to her.

She had her hands gripped on the foot board now, and she was no longer looking at me, but at the floor. It was evident, that she was in fact, now crying, and it felt like she was pouring out her heart in those tears. I stopped breathing, she stopped making noise. Then the smile reappeared on her face. I could just faintly see it, as she was still gazing at the floor, her hair and veil covering her face. Then, she began to laugh, and I grew as uneasy as one could possibly be in that situation. I knew there was no use in attempting to actually leave. She wouldn't let me. She wouldn't let either of us go, not that Jeffrey had even known what was going on.

Then, within a split second, she turned from a bride to a monster. She lifted her head to reveal a bloody, rotted out face, her skin gray with the wear from the years, and patches of flesh missing all over her, with hideous scars, and her empty sockets bleeding with an inhumane fury. There was another light about her, so black it made everything else seem to glow... She climbed up onto the bed, her bloodstained dress creeping across the linen. She grasped onto my knees, which gave me one hell of a good start. It was at that point in the nightmare that I had attempted to wake up, and while I remained between the nightmare and the conscious world, I felt, to my dismay, hands on my knees. I was far too petrified to open my eyes, but my god, I felt them clear as day, and even now, I remember it distinctly.

Falling back into my nightmare, now too scared to actually wake up, I see her face, a bloody, dismal mess, and she has it pressed right to mine. She stopped laughing, she stopped smiling, and instead she frowned. She began to cry again, this time, there were no glistening tears that would sparkle as they fell from her cheek, but instead, they were of murky blood that came flowing like two rivers out of her empty sockets. It was terrifying. Yet, I felt for her, and despite the atrocity of her appearance, I reached out my hand, as a form of consoling. And then she spoke. But her mouth did not move, as it was sewn shut.. But I could hear her, in my head, and still, unfortunately, can. She said, and I quote: "Why don't you love me? Please tell me you love me..." and then she screamed, ripping the tissue from her lips as she opened her mouth, and she began to tear at my skin, and she tried to kill me, but I woke up before that could happen.


That was my dream. However, when I woke up, I was convinced it was a way for my novel to go... Something to revolve around this dream. It was like a muse came INTO MY HEAD while I was sleeping, and she said, "Here, write about this dear, and all will be well." so I decided when I woke up that I had to write it out, I just didn't have the energy. Luckily for me, the damn thing was so vivid, I never lost sight of what happened, well. Not the important details, fortunately.

Due to my being bored however, I decided to post the different colours the bride of my nightmare had worn. Those colours were: Golden yellow, pale blue, and plain old black... I'm going to refer to them as her auras, so I'll write out the definition of the colour as defined for an aura.

Golden Yellow: Spiritual energy and power activated and awakened; an inspired person.

Pale Blue: Peacefulness, clarity and communication; truthful; intuitive.

Black: Draws or pulls energy to it and in so doing, transforms it. It captures light and consumes it. Usually indicates long-term unforgiveness (toward others or another) collected in a specific area of the body, which can lead to health problems; also, entities within a person's aura, chakras, or body; past life hurts; unreleased grief from abortions if it appears in the ovaries.

I daresay, ladies and gentlemen, this is a most uncanny dream. Far too connected for my liking... But perhaps it's a sign for me to get to work on my novel again...

I thought that you were someone special.
I had hoped that I was special to you.
I had this fairy tale feeling that no one could ever come between us,
That we were irreplaceable to each other,
But then,
I sat back and watched as I was so very easily replaced.
I watched you watch her.
I knew it was going to happen.
But oh god, I never wanted it to!
It hurt, and I couldn't deny it.
The pain flooded my heart,
Until there was nothing left to flood.
I promised myself to never love like that again.
I promised to never get hurt like that again.
And now look at me,
Does it hurt you to look at me?
Does it hurt to see this facade I put on?
No, it wouldn't hurt you.
You can't even see that my smiles are forced.
Silly little boy.
I know you don't care for me anymore.
If you did, you never would have hurt me in the first place.
Never would have ruined my faith in a happy love.
But tell me, Silly Boy,
Does it hurt you now, to know that I have moved on?
That I no longer care for you?
Tell me, Silly Boy.
Tell me that it hurts.

I was just thinking of 'The First Kiss'. My first kiss was a most awful experience, and I would love to go back in time and change it. Alas, I cannot. Though sometimes I wish I could, and I dream of doing so, to wait just a little while longer.

Perhaps just until I had met you.

I would have loved for you to be the one to steal my first kiss. It would have been so much better.

When I think about our first kiss ever, it still brings a smile to my face, and sometimes I like to pretend that it really was my first kiss.

The perfect night was the night we held hands, and I'll remember it forever. Of course, hand holding has become far less sacred as of late, and naturally occurs, almost like a reflex. But on that night, we were still young. We were still innocent, in a sense, and that night, of all the nights of my life, will always be my favourite.

That night, it would have been perfect for you to kiss me.

I had a great great fun weekend in Toronto. First time I've slept there without panic attacks since I was a child. Jodi and the guys did their best to keep me calm, and I suppose that's why I ended up with a nice big fat bottle of whiskey to call my own by the time I walked in Kilo's door. It was a good weekend, lots of drinking, some poker, LOTS of video games, and lots of laughing and cheer. I suppose it's a good way to celebrate a birthday, though I felt real bad 'cause I'm a jobless bum and couldn't afford to buy Kilo anything. That old fart is 27 now. Looks nothing like his age.

We went shopping, 'cause the guys insisted I go out, ha ha. They took me to a store of which I cannot remember the name, but I fell in love with it! The Moogles there were SO CUTE. They had swords and sheilds, and so many plushies I could have died. Jeffrey bought me the only black Yoshi in the store. I haven't let go of it since. Cute damn thing. Soft too.

Then, as our weekend progressed, Jeffrey and Kilo went on a hunt. They went to rent Brawl for the night, and buy another remote so we could do two player. Poor guys went out of their way from store to store, only to find out they were all out of stock, so they got Tiger Woods and some silly Dart game instead. I was sad, but more for the fact that I WASN'T going to be able to play Brawl, but I was happy he tried.

Jay did a tattoo on Saturday for some GOD AWFUL ugly thing who's features are so distorted looking at her makes me cringe. She's a fatty. But ... she's weird. Her face looks ... different. Her eyes just weren't right. Oh the stories I heard about her. >.> APPARENTLY, her brother had walked into her room one day, to find her, and I'll speak blatantly here, "fucking her bedpost". o_O
That is, by all means, more embarrassing than getting caught masturbating. THESE FUCKS TELL ME THIS BEFORE SHE COMES OVER FOR THE TATTOO! Ugh! I had to hide in the basement or at Tim Horton's the entire time she was there! Poor poor Jay. =[ I wish I could have compensated to him the money he would have lost had he not tattooed her, but I suppose you can't really be picky about those sort of things when you have a business. Could you imagine Lucky Devil rejecting you for a tattoo 'cause you were a fatty and they heard you fucked a bedpost? HAHAHAHA.

Anyway, let's move on.

I drove past my old house six times this weekend. And on the way, I saw Lisa's house, and Christina's house, and somewhere I saw this one house that I wish I could live in. But I'd love to move back to my old house. I'd kill to live there again. It was so much fun roaming in the woods and the barn and finding all that old stuff in the basement. I sort of wish we'd kept some of it.

Oh my GOD I'm so grungy! I really need to have a shower tomorrow morning when I wake up. I'd do so now, but, in my current state, I'd probably fall over, or fall asleep. I'm so tired. I can't even imagine how tired I am. That's pretty tired.

I was a little sad in Toronto though, because I couldn't go on MSN. I wasn't going to ask Kilo if I could shanghai his computer, 'cause I figured that it would just be plain rude to do that, and when I got my laptop down there, the bloody thing wouldn't connect to his router. He has it UBER protected, 'cause he lives near a bunch of college kids, and he doesn't want them himing off his interbutts. Lolz.

Enough of that.

I'm very tired, and wanting to watch something, and possibly eat something before I go to bed. I just wanted to blurb about my weekend, and try to make updating my livejournal seem like a regular thing.

And a sidenote? Kilo and Jodi and Jeffrey are totally taking me to the Comic Con, AND, a special sidenote: MANDERS YOU BETTER BE PAYING ATTENTION, 'cause Kilo and Jodi and Jeffers are totally taking us to the zoo this summer, fo' sho'.
=]
We'll go over details laters, in my room.
D<
But yes.
...
I'm going to bed.

So today Darth Manders and I decided to go out for an adventure, and, as usual, it turned out to be Epic.
She bought us Yo-Yos.
Yeah, that's right.
CIRCULAR WOOD ON A STRING IS ALL WE NEED IN THIS WORLD.
But not really. I mean, it's not like a Yo-Yo can send messages to people on the other side of the world in a mere moment, but still, they're fucking amazing.
I totally named mine Skwisgaar Skwigelf, over my pixelated obsession with the most awesome Swedish Cartoon guitar player EVER. <3 Metalocalypse.
Darth Manders still seems to be a bit indecisive about the name for hers. I'm sure she'll come up with one that is full of Epic win, 'cause she's amazing like that.
And, oddly enough, we both ended up smashing our Yo-Yos on the sidewalk, chipping them slightly. xD
It's how we roll.
But yeah, that was TOTALLY the highlight of my freaking day.
LUB LUB LUB LUB.
<3