you get the feeling that people you have loved for years don't really remember you anymore and you never made very much of an impact.
but it's your own. damn. fault. and that's worse
your own damn fault

FUCK

MY CAT IS A BOY

Hey, so if you want a Christmas present Christmas card cheesy e-greeting from me to celebrate this most joyous of holiday seasons, leave your email address and I will attack it from both sides somehow.

And he smells good.

is

Does anyone know if you can somehow connect an Xbox to a wireless network? Because I HAVE ONE, AW YEAH.

What does it look like when a female cat masturbates? I'm pretty sure Yin was just doing it. She was on a big pile of blankets in my room, massaging her paws into it like cats do, only she was... humping them, as well. I thought she might have been peeing on them, but she wasn't. She was just... humping them. She. She was humping them.

There's a new drink at work called a White Christmas. It has espresso, mint, white chocolate milk, vanilla and nutmeg. It is pure winter heaven. COME DRINK IT

Yesterday, everywhere I went, something burst into flames.

	

	

	

				
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How sexually compatible with me are you?
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Bwahahaha. clawmarks, you besta look out. >:D

One of those days where you are in love with the world and yourself and your friends and lovers past present and future.

When you're completely willing to fall victim to tides of time and tie yourself to it.

While you've got a pocketful of change and nothing to buy, nothing but a spring in your step and the company and the clouds with sunburns.

My lack of sleep. Your youthful ambition. Your energy, my apathy. Press puree.

We're all so scared but there's nothing there but dust and shadow. Dust and shadow, dust and shadow.

Guess what.

I got the part.

I wish I liked alcohol because I want to drink myself into blissful oblivion. Relatively speaking, this isn't that big a deal.... but I haven't ever landed a major role, and I haven't landed any role in a year and a half. In a month and a half, The Secret Garden opens with me as Martha Appleby. This is a big. Fucking. Deal.

Just got home after spending all of after-work with my housemate and a couple of guys I just met, playing Vice City and watching cartoons. One of them is very into the backend-programming side of web design and finds himself very badly in need of a graphic designer, so woo! Maybe I can get a couple assignments doing that and quit my job. That would be lovely.

Tonight was Kati Looks Like a Celebrity Only We Can't Ever Really Say Which One night. There's apparently a girl who was in "90210" and is now in "CSI" who looks just like me, as well as "that girl next to Heath Ledger in The Faculty" and "the chick from The Craft". And two more Jennifer Garner comparisons. I think they were maybe just hitting on me, but still. It's nice to think that at the very least, I could be a stunt double.

I don't have enough patience. I want to make something of my life right now. I want to go to Europe, but I don't have any money... I want to act, but I'll get nowhere if I stay here.

I want to paint you a picture.

I want to scream with all the ideas tearing me apart, but screaming does me no good.

Why aren't there any of the right opportunities? I know when it knocks, you gots to throw it a party, but I been waiting here at the door for a long time and it seems to have passed me right on by.

Oh, holy fuck.

Someone hold me.

Do you ever wonder where you sit on the aesthetic food chain? Sometimes it really bugs me. I don't know how different my perception of myself is from how others perceive me, so I have to judge through their reactions to me as opposed to other people. I wish I had an unbiased way to view myself.

The past several days have been exhausting in some ways, fulfilling in others. A particularly nasty girl at work is trying to get me fired, because I am very good at what I do (but really, how hard can it be, right? It is, after all, just a coffee shop) and because everyone instantly liked me and they all hate her. But she is close with the manager... so like our very own prissy, anal-retentive Wormtongue, she whispers lies in his ear and he listens. But everyone is teetering on the edge of quitting anyway... I don't want to quit, but just hanging out there might be more fun anyway. At least then I'd get to talk to people for more than a few minutes at a time. We'll see. She's leaving in a few weeks to get married and move to Ohio anyway. Maybe then things will get better.

Also, I discovered that my newly-purchased-from-Goodwill, little-boy Darth Maul t-shirt (which is the epitome of awesomeness and preschool style, despite what some unsavory individuals might say), in addition to making fifteen-year-old geek boys fall in love with me instantly, GLOWS IN THE DARK. HOW FUCKING AWESOME.

Also, pictures of Yin, the new stray kitty that my housemate gave me (all close-ups, as I was trying to capture how beautiful her eyes are): 1, 2, 3.

I wish I could tell when people are hitting on me. It provides me with no end of embarassment when I'm out with friends, thinking that I'm talking to a nice, handsome man in a Navy uniform about his kids and his future wife and his trip to Rome and his tattoos and his philosophies, and then when we leave they all guffaw about how he was hitting on me. "With a club, in the face," as one of them put it. How could he have been hitting on someone like me by pulling out pictures of his children and showing them to me? Is that how it's done? That's not very smooth.

( Bank error in my favor? Man, this LJ cut stuff just never gets old )

We went out drinking tonight. I, being the straight-edge alcohol hater I am, didn't have a drop, but I may as well have. I think just being around alcohol makes me crazy; the entire ride home I blabbered on and on about my mom (being psycho and bipolar) and my dad (being kickass and space-obsessed) to Really Awesome Coworker/Future Housemate and Friend of Hers Who Thinks I'm Hot. (I think I'm gonna have to call them something else. Giving them long, complicated pseudonyms makes me feel very silly.)