I'll stand by you.

My feet are cold and smell like the skin of a dead sheep.

I'll bet this really makes you want to be friends with me.

I feel very tired tired tired.

I probably won't get any classes for next semester, due to the fact that I have one of the ultimate last registration dates.

I hate being last. 

"I feel very lucky, because all I have to do is put on a bikini and be the bomb, and I make something like hundreds of thousands of dollars."

They do not make lights tiny enough to decorate Stella.

My hands are dry, my lips are chapped, and my throat is scratchy.

I should probably lubricate all of the above.

Maybe what I NEED are vitamins.

My hair hurts, too. Probably because it's not sure if it's black or brown. It looks like someone colored across my hair with a Sharpie.

GOD I am just so attractive, I can't even stand it.

Shrek 2 is on TV. This could be fun.

"Just because we put a little buttnugget (tm) into their batter does not mean anything. Personally I think it added to it. More delicious. Yah."

I should probably stop procrastinating. But you know what they say about procrastinators. They're scholars. 

My painty jeans from last year are rather tight. This. Is great.

My roommate has to make CHOPS. Paper ones, not delicious pork or lamb.

I am SO EXCITED that it's December...tomorrow.

This was long. I am spent.

I love da fumes.

Nothing says "Welcome Back" like some fragrant, black mold eminating from the refridgerator accompanied by yellow melted freezer juice that was refrozen in the little collection tray.

Both problems were dealt with accordingly. The dorm now smells of 409 and the bathroom of mold, due to a 3 month old bottle of decrepid chocolate syrup being disposed of in the trash.

25 Days til Christmas
20 Days til Christmas Break
17 Days til Natale...who IS Christmas, by definition.

love.

It has come to this.

I wash my hair in Dawn dishsoap now, because it is highly concentrated and will therefore rinse the black dye out quicker, so I'm told. It's working...I think? At the very least I'm getting the best split ends of my life.

I wash my dishes in the shower now, because I wash my hair in Dawn. It just seems like the most time efficent and economical thing to do. It kills two birds with one stone.

Gross? Maybe. Do I care? No.

In order to maintain a fabulously long Thanksgiving break, I have convinced my French professer to let me mail her the assignment that would normally have to be passed in next Monday before sundown (aka before 3, because that's when the sun sets around here). 

She probably thinks I live in Arizona, or out of state at the very least.

Whatever.

The mutants in 305 are out of control. They must be stopped.

To class!

Moo with me.

I've

Got to

Got to

Got to

Got to

Got to

Got to find a way

To jump

Over the moon





I miss indians and princesses and loaves of bread and sure things and never, ever growing up.

I'd be so happy I could melt.

It's embarrassing how much I love The O.C..

It's even more embarrassing how much I would give to be ON The O.C..

The TV show itself, that is. I don't really want to live there. Although it probably wouldn't suck. 

Um...thank God it's almost Friday.

I love it when my phone sings that certain song.

Now is a good time for grapefruit juice.

There's reality. Then there's Dawson's Creek.

NLPLC154 (10:43:25 AM): I WAS L-ing My A O

It's nice to know that no matter how wrong things may feel, or how crappy the day is, or how much reading there is to be done...

There are always going to be that one person who will put AIM abbreviations into the past tense for you.

At least it's November.