In Limbo

The days just fly by, it's bloody ridiculous. I have a weekend of hell in front of me: two papers due on monday, neither started. My friends are awesome though, they never fail to make me smile. In fact today I was remembering some G.T's circa Swanton and I burst out laughing...except I was by myself on the street and everyone looked at me like some kind of weirdo. They weren't too far off though, I am a weirdo, completely unheimlich. "Dear Dad...I am in rehab....No, no, no! Fuck, start again"

I went to see Aimee's play yesterday, Henry IV set in the post prandial future, complete with dirtface and crazy hair. It brought up some good memories from Mr. Wall's English class, when I turned to M.L and said; "Do thou amend thy face and I will amend my life" to the cue of unbridled laughter at her expense. That was the crystalized moment that I realized that Shakespearian insults can be funny, if wielded properly.

Umbrellical Cord

The weather here is tellement degulas; raining, cold and WINDY a trifecta of miserableness. My umbrella flipped inside out several times on the way to school compacting my rage towards the elements. It's so funny that every year when winter and bad weather comes I always find myself shocked, as if it wasn't this bad last year. In reality it WAS just as disgustingly freezing last year, but my brain forgets the hardship in order to justify the fact that I still live here. That's kind of like what happens when a woman gives birth; it's a horrible and painful process, but she has to forget just how bad it truly was in order to do it again...or in my mom's case, not do it again; *moment of silence for solitude*.

This is mein kampf, my struggle.

In other disparaging news I have had a mild epiphany: Wearing pink pinstripped flannel jammies to bed is no longer cute at this age, frankly it makes me resemble Cathy, which is sad. Hey at least she's not a spinster, thanks to here "widely" publicized nuptials last year.

Catechism

I have this creeping suspicion that my phone seceretly judges my popularity, which makes it kinda analagous to my mom.

"Why yes Gladys, I swallowed the whole bottle of Vicoden!"

Why do I feel a strong urge to make a Phoebe Cates joke? I wasn't even a zygote when Fast Times at Ridgemont High was in theaters. I will supplement that joke with this picture, of what I'd assume to be a girl with a pituitary gland problem:


Going to see "The Squid and The Whale " tommorow if anyone wants to join. Yes, that was a nice segway from that last picture (which I left uncapped to make you do some work).

P.S Does anyone else share a passion for Canadian spelling or is it just me?

Bordieu outta my mind

It seems that technology hates me. I can't see anything that I post today, I'm like the Helen Keller of the blogging world.

In other news: Sarah Silverman has officially become my comedy God after I read The New Yorker's profile of her. I mean who puts a dab of red paint on their Khakis before doing standup in order to make the audience think she's on her mensies? This woman is a genius and I will be glued to the set when her sitcom and movie comes out.
Next time I come to L.A we should go see her Bones!

Question

Am I the only person who secretly likes it when strangers condesceningly call me "honey"?

And is it wrong to think adults who wear Disney shirts are douche bags?

If Looks Could Kill

Recently my Psych class has launched into a huge discussion about what we categorize as beautiful. My teacher pointed out that we tend to see the most "average" looking faces as aesthitically pleasing, which means that we discount the majority of unique looking people that populate this world. Speaking stricty under the guise of social research, I now present celebs "sans maquillage":

Daryl Hannah a.k.a "Daryl Look Like a Man-ah"... Egads, she did John John with that face.

For British Eyes Only!! I love Chalize, I can't even bring myself to say something derrogartory about her. We all have these days, except mine tend to be worse, because I'd have an scoop of Crisco in that cone.

I hear that Naomi Campbell is a bitch so I don't feel too bad about posting this. She looks like K-Fed's first baby-momma here.

Okay, let me get this straight: Renee files from divorce from Kenny Chesney sighting "fraud", when in fact her entire facial landscape is a fucking lie!

I thought Cammie's MTV show was called Trippin', not "Trippin' Face-First into Gravel". Hooohah.

The point of this pictoral journey into Hades: don't buy into the beauty myths perpetuated by H-Wood...trust me, I've got some mad photo shoppin' skills myself, I know what an airbrush can do to a complexion.

Like a ribbon cutting, but in jammies

Everything has to start somewhere and this blog starts here. This moment is neither groundbreaking, nor is it how I had envisioned it: Me in a skimpy negligee, tapping away at the keys haphazardy with a 1920's style cigarette holder in one hand and a glass of Vermouth in the other. No, instead I look like a Raggedy Ann doll, hunched over scoleosis-style in my chair as the blood flows away from my oh-so-cold hanzels, but I have mustered the courage to post this and that's what counts. Oh what a sobering moment, but I promise you there will be no others...