i’m watching that movie on VH1 with vanilla ice in it. Cool as ice. it is certainly not cool as ice in any manner. i can’t believe it was once thought of being cool in the early 90’s when it came out. it’s horribly cheesy but i am enjoying every minute of it. damn.
i went to the library last nite before it closed and took out a bunch of children’s picture books for myself. i was victim to many odd and curious stares. i felt like a pervert crouching down in front of the shelves. anyhow. yah. i love kiddie books. so what.
i said it before and i’ll say it again – i should definitely not be allowed to paint my nails. i’m just horrible at it. i spilled cherry red polish all over the table, floor, my pants and hands. it was a disaster. i completely forgot i hadn’t tightened the lid on the bottle, so i picked it up and the shit flew everyfuckingwhere. i am so traumatized by this experience i have yet to paint the other hand. however, i have come to conclude that once one has applied nail polish to their nails it gives them the authority to do a hell of unecessary pointing. it’s ridiculous. i point to my head, my watch, the phone. it’s all very amusing and cute.
i apologize for being fat and lazy and ignorant and making you all think i was dead. last week i was tying up loose ends in preparation of leaving the country. now i am in buttfuck nowhere New England. hell yah. we drove about 25 miles/h the whole way thru a bullshit snowstorm. i am trying to figure out this webcam so i can show you how messy my hair is right now. gimme a sec.
i am iron B deficient. this means when i get sick, i get sick. Mo’fo. i turn into this brittle old lady type person who walks around all hunched over and puts a blanket over their legs when they sit down on the couch. fuckin’ hell. if i were to drink a beer right ’bout now it’d be like taking acid – hallucination city. my head weighs fifty pounds, i have the hugest, darkest circles under my eyes like that of a crackwhore and my hair has gone to shit. it hurts to think, to eat, to lie down….i can’t even get my shit together enough to make soup.
here’s me being a drunk slut in NYC, soho/lil italy. i just finished bartending and i am trying to figure out if we should go to another bar or go to the grocery store and buy me some food. whenever i bartended i’d be wasted 30 minutes into the nite, then i’d drop things, walk real slow and yell at people. i believe we ended up going to the supermarket and then got my drunk-ass home to bed.
this shot was taken in august, note the short hair. that day i was stopped by two british broads and they asked me all about my outfit and what i felt my “fashion sense” was and yadda yadda ya….they wanted the opinion of a true New Yorker so i went along with it and rattled off a slew of meaningless, long-winded answers about oldskool versus newskool and vintage and modern. i basically spoke a lot about nothing, they took my picture and left. it was a hot day and i was trying to find a liquor store. then i got stopped again around the meat-packing district to be in the background of this jeans ad or whatever. i had to make like i was running, in a hurry. they re-did the shot many times, i finally lost patience and walked-off. meh.
i’ve just realized that i swear a lot. And other people are noticing as well. like every other sentence has an “f this” “f that” “shut the f up” and it’s like i can’t stop doing it. i am embarassed. my vocabulary is now reduced to that of only a handful of cuss words. i swear in front of old ladies, customers, your mother, important people you’re not suppose to swear in front of…..Jesus, how do i stop? perhaps i’ve Tourette’s Syndrome? and why not? i already suffer from plenty of nervous habits and ticks amongst many other ridiculous compulsive things i do on a regular basis like twiddling my fingers, picking at my face, counting all the letters in words of sentences to figure out if the sentence is odd or even, you know, basic nervous habits. ffuk.
ok i change my mind. i like Krismus. but only because i like toys and i still get some for Krismus so… anyday that i get toys is a day i like. i have hello kitty stickers all over my face and hands, i have put together and taken apart mister potatoHead a million times and i have had one very prestigious and serious tea party with my niece. sigh. i am contemplating whether or not barbie’s SUV can handle a flight of stairs.
now everyone is out at xmas mass. i am home alone
1. too cynical to go to mass
2. non-believing
3. going to hell anyway
4. drunk
tomorrow is another story altogether. god help us.
dysfunctional family + alcohol + christmas = 4 months of therapy
