Thanksgiving. A time to be thankful for your crappy life.
As we go around the table this year, here is what the conversation will sound like as we each name the things we are thankful for.
-Yeah, I'm so glad Grandpa died so we don't have to listen to his crappy war stories and listen to him talk about his Thanksgiving dinner in 1941, which was the flesh of dead gypsies and Jews.
-I'm thankful that since Grandpa died we actually have meat on the table to eat this year.
-Why did we keep his toupée on?
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Honestly, that's what my Thanksgiving sounds like. What about you?
Recently, I've been kind of moody. Sometimes I'm extremely happy, other times I'm stressed out, other times I am just plain emo — sitting in my room, listening to emo records, burning incense and singing, "We Shall Overcome" and looking through my Martin Luther King, Jr. scrapbook. Remember the early 1960s before King was shot? Those were the good old days. God, I miss him. We used to sit in our respective prison cells and just sing. Sing, sing, sing. Remember the Letters from Birmingham? God bless Martin's soul, I copy-edited all those pages for him.
He spelled knowledge wrong in the letter. "GnawLihge". I told him it was okay because I used to think teh was spelled the. His letter had shorthands like LOLZzZ and WTF all over. I had to get rid of them.
I'm kind of in love with someone in one of my classes. This person is so strange though, so I'm not sure if I really think that... I don't think he's clued into any of my hints that I would enjoy hanging out with him outside of class. Whatever, I don't need that! He probably thinks I'm Fuglyzz anyway, which, even if I am — he is more FuGz so he should want to get on me, because he's not getting it anywhere else. Whatta dingbat.
What the heck is a freaking dingbat anyway?
http://www.animationarchive.org/pics/terrylc08-big.jpg
is it that?
Whatever.
14.11.07
8.10.07
This Is What I Do
Now...back in my day, Xanga was the big thing. http://www.xanga.com/CreamofLentil — you should go there and look at that. Go back to the entries from like 2005 because they were funny. As I got older, I got less humorous. Middle school and High School though, I was a cool person.
Now I'm just like everyone else.
Wearing my stupid skinny jeans and Converse sneakers, pretending I'm cool. Listening to Belle & Sebastian on my iPod as I walk or bike to school. Driving around my hybrid car, acting like I give a hoot about saving the environment. Shopping at Whole Foods and buying non-homogonized milk. What does that even mean? Let's face it, one of my main reasons I shop at whole food is because there are beautiful organic-looking boys with beards who work there. There was a really nerdy one who was staring at me as I was walking out the other day. I should have just jumped on him because, honestly, nothing is hotter than a bearded organic nerd with black framed glasses.
Anyway, I do care about the environment, and I don't want to torture the poor little earth...and I do like my music and my skinny jeans, but I feel like I'm not the care-free lass I used to be. Everyone does all those things now — which is great, because 500 people who recycle is better than just Erika... a dirty old journalist... but I used to go crazy and run around school throwing glitter in the air and telling people my name was Chrysanthemum.
I live alone. I used to think I wanted a roomie, but I am not sure about all that now.
I enjoy coming home to silence after my long days. I enjoy taking a bath with the door open and eating pancakes in my skivvies.
I like having no one to answer to and blaring my David Bowie records. I like making my exotic cuisines and not having to share it with anyone. Some would call me selfish for all of this, but it's better looking at it this way then crying myself to sleep because I'm alone so much. Plus, I have Conan O'Brien and Stephen Colbert on HDTV right in my bedroom when I feel sad and lonely, and who can feel sad and lonely when they are basically in the room with you?
I really want to go to the pumpkin patch and the apple orchard before the fall season is over...but I haven't found any college kids who are into all that. They just want to party and watch crappy movies, which I enjoy occasionally...but, seriously, give me someone who's down for a good game of Parcheesi and a trip to the Pumpkin Patch for some Succotash or someone who wants to sit and home and drink apple cider and sit on my dock and discuss whether the moon looks better as a waning gibbous or as a waxing crescent. I would say my favorite moon though is the third quarter moon.
Today, I was at a coffee shop. There were British boys who came in and man oh man. I would pay a lot of money for a night with a British man, especially an indie one with a beard and black-rimmed glasses.
We could get freaky to some David Bowie and Animal Collective.
Most of what I have said in here is jest, for those of you who don't know me and cannot detect my hints of sarcasm or silliness.
Now I'm just like everyone else.
Wearing my stupid skinny jeans and Converse sneakers, pretending I'm cool. Listening to Belle & Sebastian on my iPod as I walk or bike to school. Driving around my hybrid car, acting like I give a hoot about saving the environment. Shopping at Whole Foods and buying non-homogonized milk. What does that even mean? Let's face it, one of my main reasons I shop at whole food is because there are beautiful organic-looking boys with beards who work there. There was a really nerdy one who was staring at me as I was walking out the other day. I should have just jumped on him because, honestly, nothing is hotter than a bearded organic nerd with black framed glasses.
Anyway, I do care about the environment, and I don't want to torture the poor little earth...and I do like my music and my skinny jeans, but I feel like I'm not the care-free lass I used to be. Everyone does all those things now — which is great, because 500 people who recycle is better than just Erika... a dirty old journalist... but I used to go crazy and run around school throwing glitter in the air and telling people my name was Chrysanthemum.
I live alone. I used to think I wanted a roomie, but I am not sure about all that now.
I enjoy coming home to silence after my long days. I enjoy taking a bath with the door open and eating pancakes in my skivvies.
I like having no one to answer to and blaring my David Bowie records. I like making my exotic cuisines and not having to share it with anyone. Some would call me selfish for all of this, but it's better looking at it this way then crying myself to sleep because I'm alone so much. Plus, I have Conan O'Brien and Stephen Colbert on HDTV right in my bedroom when I feel sad and lonely, and who can feel sad and lonely when they are basically in the room with you?
I really want to go to the pumpkin patch and the apple orchard before the fall season is over...but I haven't found any college kids who are into all that. They just want to party and watch crappy movies, which I enjoy occasionally...but, seriously, give me someone who's down for a good game of Parcheesi and a trip to the Pumpkin Patch for some Succotash or someone who wants to sit and home and drink apple cider and sit on my dock and discuss whether the moon looks better as a waning gibbous or as a waxing crescent. I would say my favorite moon though is the third quarter moon.
Today, I was at a coffee shop. There were British boys who came in and man oh man. I would pay a lot of money for a night with a British man, especially an indie one with a beard and black-rimmed glasses.
We could get freaky to some David Bowie and Animal Collective.
Most of what I have said in here is jest, for those of you who don't know me and cannot detect my hints of sarcasm or silliness.
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