Feeling fresh and clean after a hot shower. I watched Scapin tonight; the play itself was a bit cheesy, but it was pretty funny and the acting was nice. If only life could be resolved in a happy omg-i-wanted-to-marry-you-all-this-time, wow-i-finally-found-you-after-all-these-years, i-forgive-you-now-let's-eat sort of way. Anyway, I'm happy that after all these years Clyde&I are finally getting closer, though once other people are here it's the total get-outta-my-face-kid routine that is so popular among older siblings. I've been meaning to put in a lot of my thoughts over these past few days in which I haven't been blogging, but this killer headache is putting a halt to my thoughts. The weird thing about today was there was this period of time when I felt like I was on a sugar high or something, though I hadn't consumed that much to begin with. Even mother dear questioned, "Did you accidentally switch the whiskey with the root beer?" Anyway, so now it feels like my skull is being jackhammered by little invisible people with mini metal mallets. Urghh.

Weekly Writings

1. Aha. Am I bothering you with the surplus of phone calls? I know you're not really a phone person, but it's nice chatting to someone about pointless things people with time on their hands disuss.

2. Honestly. I don't know what to do with you. Frankly, I don't really want to be associated with you, but due to overlapping friend circles (if you could even call mine a circle)we're forced together. You're smiles seem so tight, you're lips like a pair of rusted metal springs an overworked mechanic doesn't feel like changing. We should stop before the coils snap into tarnished splintered shavings because we know that that overworked mechanic won't sit down and grease them back to their shiny silver glory.

3. You're just as fake. Being with you is as awkward as being forced to dine with a bunch of people you don't know, stuffed into an uncomfortable rayon Queen Elizabeth costume while everyone else if dressed Rat Pack city-slick. Just stop. Anyone can see through those glossy lips.

After I post this, I'm going to heat up some chicken alfredo pasta, pour myself a tall glass of root beer, and boil myself in a vat of water.