BAGUETTE!!!

Work was weird today. The first half of the day went by really effing fast, but when it hit around 3-ish, it got sloooooowwww as fuck. And I got sleepy. Gross.

"Uh-oh. You're making your 'Guess' face."-Angel

I hatehatehate mid shifts. So much. They just effing drag.

Terry called as I was driving over here (Gramma's). Which was weird. So we're on speaking terms again. Heh. That's good, I guess. If I don't figure out what I'm doing tomorrow, I guess we'll go bar-hopping or something. I knowI'llget plenty of free drinks. HEH. 'Cause seriously. I'ma look like the biggest whore ever.

So tonight. Finish the tutu thing and garters. Figure out what I'm gonna do with my hair and makeup. Eat schpunkin schpie. MMMMMM!!!! *rubs belly in a circular motion* (Yeah, had to throw a bit of Terry in there. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss his nonsense.) Go home, shower, sleep.

Tomorrow. Pick up tiny paycheck from work. Cash it (EWWWW. I can't wait until my direct deposit kicks in). Come back over here, eat foodz, figure out what I'm doing for the evening.

Wewt.

Glorious progress!

Oh god, you guys. The tutu thing is sooooo fucking fancy. We're just gonna add a stretchy waistband to it tomorrow, then it's done. EFF the corset I originally had planned. This thing is the main focal point. I could probably just wear a plain black tank or tube and I'd still look fancy as fuck. I'd post pictures, but they'd ruin everything. Heh.

You're just gonna have to wait. Yuussssss.

And I got creative and made garters. Have two more left to finish up and then I just have to tack them onto some boyshorts of glory. I'm about to hack up my fishnets. HEEEEEEEEE.

UGHHHHH. SO FANCY. I'M SO EXCITED.

*gurgling death noises*

I am SO goddamn tired. Kris and I managed to bust through 67 boxes today. Just the two of us. I could have finished all the boxes up today, but when she left at 4 she instructed me to replen as much as I could. So I did that for 2 1/2 hours. Replen at PE isn't aggravating, though. It's pretty easy 'cause there's only like 10 different products they have, if you really think about it. It's just the varying styles and colors and whatnot that make it seem difficult.

Oh god. And half of the day I was wearing my Phylicias. NEVER. AGAIN. I wanted desperately to wear a dress to work, but the only way I can do that until I get some fancy knee socks or something is to wear knee-high boots (because of my tattoo). Yeah. Bad fucking idea. I'm never wearing heels in that store again. Originally wanted to wear my furry boots, but they don't go all the way up over my tattoo. Lame. I need those fancy knee socks with the lace at the top that all the canasians used to wear.

I'm at Gramma's, but the thought of working on anything right now is making me nauseous. Gonna have to though. I atleastwanna finish the skirt. As long as that's done, I can at least use this bustier I bought forever ago at El Diamante that I forgot all about. HEH.

I don't think I can make the corset anyway, 'cause pieces of the pattern I wanna use are missing (from when I started to make one before and abandoned it. Heh.). Guh. And all the rest of my corset patterns are the wrong size. Fucking LAME.

Well. I need to get off my ass and actually do this shit so I can get home and to bed (couch, rather) at a decent hour. Tomorrow's my last day of work for the week! YAY!

Eff my life.

So tired. Had my first full 8 1/2 hour day since... god. Since they stopped doing full hours at Guess. Which I think was a little over a year ago. Crazy.

We totally busted through all the boxes that were piled up in one of the fitting rooms and then some. Something like 80-85 fucking boxes. INSANE. Still, backstock is an issue, but we're taking steps to remedy it.

I'm at Gramma's. I just stopped working on my fancy tutu 'cause I'm getting blisters and I'm really effing tired. But so far it's call gathered and whatnot. Just have to fashion a waistband. That can wait 'til tomorrow after work. Then I'll think about tackling the corset/bustier business.

So I dunno what I'm doing on Friday. If I go on as originally planned, I'm gonna drink like a fish and fuck up again. I really want to go, but I just don't know if I cannotdrink in a party atmosphere. I really don't think I can do it.

I have a problem, guys. I don't know what the fuck to do.

So. What am I even making this whole costume for? Fuck. Who knows. My feelings on the whole situation might change in the next few days. Maybe I'll be able to wrangle up some semblance of self-discipline.

I just don't want to fuck up anymore.

Balls?

So Chelsey and I had a fancy time today. Went into Guess, where everything was fucking turned upside-down. It's nuts in there. Had a chat with Angel, went and fought with the Shell station's car wash (funniest shit ever... I wish I was filming it), had a couple beers at Applebee's, found my leopard fur and tulle at Joann (only $14 total for a yard of the fur and five yards of the tulle!), then had some ice cream from McDonald's and blasted White Zombie in the parking lot at the outlet mall. Yusssss.

Yup. That was our day.

My schedule for the rest of the week has changed. 10am-6:30 tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday. WOOO. Bigger paycheck!

It might as well, it might as well hurt.

Today Chelsey and I are gonna wreak havoc on... Marysville. Heh. I haveta hunt down some short pile leopard fur and black tulle and fishnets. 'Cause I dug through my shit in storage yesterday and it seems that ALL MY FISHNETS ARE GONE. AND the stupid cheap-ass bustier that I was gonna take the garters off of. I WONDER WHO TOOK THOSE?!?!

More and more shit keeps coming up missing. It's really fucking frustrating. What do I have of yours? NOTHING. NOTHING!

Anyhow. Yeah. Then after that I'ma head back over to Gramma's to try and actually work on this shit.

You know what made my night last night? I was able to fill my gas tank from empty with $18 ($17.91, to be precise!). I was so fucking ecstatic. Pretty soon I'll be able to fill it with $15 again, like when I first started driving a little over a year ago. HEH! I've missed those days.

Blehhhh.

"Leave these poor sick monkeys alone, they got problems enough as they is!"

Sittin' at Gramma's. Ate my weight in soups and apple sauce cake. YUMMM.

Last night Kyle and I got hammered drunk. Heh. He, Doom and Joostaaa went and bought a half gallon of R&R and I was pretty much done for by the time we left for Marysville. Watched Kyle, Jordan and all their friends play kickball in the Kohl's parking lot, went and got Austin on Ebey Island, then went back to Kyle's and drank. I drank so much I nearly got sick. I haven't felt so close to puking in a very, very long time. I really shouldn't drink and sit. I think that's what was wrong. Usually when I drink that much I'm dancing or wreaking havoc. Heh. So I passed out pretty tough while Kyle dropped Austin back at his house. Forced myself up around 10:30, we went and got Kali and Kina and headed back to my house, where I passed out for another four hours.

Tomorrow I have to work. Weeee. There's a store meeting and then we're probably gonna bust out some shipment until 2. Then I feel I have to go to my storage unit and grab all my old patterns and fabric, then come back over here to start fashioning some sort of Halloween costume. I wanna make a corset, but I'm terrified I'm gonna get really frustrated with it, what with all the panels and re-enforcing and boning involved. Hummmm. I'll just attempt it. I need to go pick up a couple yards of leopard print something-or-other that matches my boots nicely, too.

The tulle skirt should be pretty straight-forward, however. Then once I get those all done, I'll just need to dig some fishnets out of storage and sew some garters onto some black boyshorts, which I'm in no short supply of. Gleee.

Guh! I wanna get all crafty n'shit. Heh.

Okay. Smokie-time.

Shitfuckballs.

So I've made my bed, and I have to lie in it. But for how fucking long? Seriously. I'm beating MYSELF up about the whole thing enough, do I really need this agonizing silence to make it even more glaringly obvious that I'm a total fuck-up?

I've been trying not to think about it, but fuck! I miss my fucking friend and I'd kill a thousand christians and make a christian pie just to get back in his good graces. Or to just be, ya know, acknowledged.

Goddamnit.

Today involved putting the finishing touches on my photoshop project and cleaning the bejesus out of the kitchen again. Then watching hours of Family Guy with Doom and John, then uh... straightening my hair. For a very long time. My life is just full of fucking wonderment.

And I'm breaking out horribly. It's effing sexual.

I need out of here. Gotta find something to do tomorrow.

Fucking ow.

I keep waking up every day with this excruciating fucking pain in one of my left top molars, half of which is missing from decay. The pain goes from the tooth all the way up to my left temple. It won't go away until I down two Excedrin. It's getting really fucking annoying and I wish I had $15,000 to get my fucking teeth ripped out.

What I would do for that kind of money in one lump sum. I will bawl my eyes out out of sheer joy when that day comes. If it ever comes.

Finished reading "Scar Tissue" today. I really, really fucking enjoyed it. After I read Dave Navarro's book a few years back, the whole 'recovery-memoir' thing left a really bad taste in my mouth, because in his book he suddenly jumps from rock-bottom to perfect fucking life with his supermodel girlfriend and had a whole preachy vibe about the whole thing. While Anthony is kinda self-absorbed all throughout the book, it never comes off as annoying and I really enjoyed the whole resolution, which wasn't all "I got help because I'm rich as fuck and you should follow in my footsteps." It was more "Only you can help yourself no matter what kind of treatment you wind up going through. You are solely responsible for your own recovery through your level of commitment. You can't half-ass it and expect results." Which is common sense, I suppose. But some people need to hear it. If Terry and I ever end up speaking again, I'm buying him a copy of this book.

I found it weird that I liked it so much, considering I'm very much attracted to reading about the exploits and crash-and-burn lifestyles of celebs with almost no resolution. That's why I've loved for so many years and keep re-reading Marilyn Manson's book over and over and over. I guess that says something about me and my own position in life, as well. Heh.

Wow. Write an effing novel, why don't I?

Anyhow. Most of today was spent sitting on my ass playing with photoshop, making something awesome. I'll probably be working on it until the early AM tomorrow.

General updates.

Went and filled out paperwork at PE today. I work tomorrow at 8am for like an hour and a half replenishing the living shit out of the store and busting out some shipment.

I can't put Anthony Kiedis' book down. It's been very difficult.

I'm being given the silent treatment by the one person who means the fucking world to me, and I'm in fucking shambles. I fucked up about a million times too many and I'm terrified this one may have been the last straw.

I'm sorry and I love you. I have no excuses, so that's about all I can say at this point.

Worky work.

So PE kicks ass. With one exception. The stockroom is about the size of Doom's bedroom. I'm not exaggerating. There's no separate office, it's just BAM! Right there in the stockroom. I did, however, share some fancy ideas with Angel regarding how we're gonna tame that beast. So hopefully those ideas get implemented soonish.

Honestly, the store isn't even that bad. Each box of shipment has anywhere from 2-12 items in it (contrast that with the average item count in each box at Guess, which was anywhere from 2-110 and we got anywhere from 20-200 boxes EVERY WEEKDAY). We only get shipment 3-4 times a week with an average of 100 boxes a week. The only bitch is fitting the stuff out on the floor or backstocking it, 'cause the store isn't very big and the stockroom is even tinier and terribly disorganized because they didn't have a regular stock associate. We're gonna wrastle it into submission one of these weekends, though.

So yeah. Worked five hours processing shipment and putting it out. Their sensors are tiny and cute, but it's gonna take me a while to get into the swing of sensoring as quickly as I did at Guess with their hurkin' sensors. So therefore Angel and I only got about 20 boxes done today. But I was also being trained at the exact same time, so next time will be much better and I'm shooting for like 40-50.

Anyhow. I have the rest of the week off. Then it's back to work on Sunday morning for a store meeting at 8, off Monday, then working Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday with Friday and Saturday off. GLEE.

And what's really badass? This morning I discovered that I can pin the pink chunk of my hair underneath the rest of my hair and it doesn't even show. So I guess I won't have to get rid of it! Taking out my monroe sucks, though.

Well. Back to my book for another couple of hours.

Frustration.

Well, I was really excited for this job I'm about to get at Perry Ellis until I learned about all the compromises I'm gonna have to make.

-I have to take out all my visible piercings. ALL OF THEM. I could probably leave 1-2 in each ear, but FUCK! And taking out my monroe and putting it back in over and over is SUCH a pain in my ass!

-I have to cover up my tattoos that show. So I have to either wear long-sleeved tops (and I have a grand total of one that would be appropriate to wear there) or buy some kind of wrist cuff. And I can never wear my hair up because of the tattoo behind my ear.

-I have to get rid of my pink chunk *cries* I can't even make it blonde. Maybe copper? I'ma have to ask tomorrow.

-I can't wear jeans. EVER. All I can wear are dress pants because I have tattoos on my legs. And the only way I could wear a mid-length skirt is if I wore black tights. I have a serious hatred for black tights (or any kind of tights that aren't fishnets, really). Hopefully I can pick up some long skirts somewhere.

-I'm only gonna make somewhere around $8.25 to start, then somewhere around $8.75 after thirty days. That's more than I made at Guess, but not much. And I really, really feel like I'm worth more than that.

-I'm gonna have to wear the same 2-3 outfits to work until I get paid. THEN I have to blow a huge chunk of my first paycheck on sweaters, dress pants, wovens and plain flats and/or oxfords of some sort.

It really sucks. I'm having second thoughts now, even though Angel's gonna be my boss. But I really can't back out now, 'cause I can't fucking afford to.

UGH.

Fuck it. I'm only gonna be working there for about 7-8 months until I can move to Cali. I suppose I can deal.

Mother of god.

Stupid Myspace won't let me upload any pictures. UGH.

Last night was fucking NUTS. Mike and I went over to Pepper's and he made me take all the shoes out of my trunk and line them all up in the living room. HEH. I should have taken a picture. It was ridiculous and overwhelming. So Pepper, Candy and I played dress-up while drinking what little booze was left in my trunk and in the house. Dane dropped by and we drank some of his booze, then Jimmy came over. We all decided that we looked way too hot to be stuck in the apartment. Sooooo we headed to Seattle. Met up with Aaron at Kurrent. Which is weird and small and full of too many goddamn asians. And Mike immediately got SPIT ON by some drunk bitch. So we went across the street to RPlace for a moment and had us some $2.50 Pabsts. Heh. I really, really enjoyed that bar and I'm probably gonna live there on the weekends after I have some cashflow again. Heh. Started walking... somewhere. Don't remember where we were headed, but we passed some guy on a bike and Mike flipped up my skirt and flashed my pink panties at him. Guy turns around and offers me $20 to take a picture of my clothed ass. No shit. I totally did it and it was effing hilarious. So we took our $20 to QFC and got a six-pack of Miller and a bottle of Yellowtail something-or-other. Walked to Seattle Central and got the grand idea to call up Chelsey and Tyler. Went to their place and got lost looking for their apartment 'cause I'm only ever there when I'm wasted/blacked out. So we all danced like idiots and played some drinking game.

*insert fuzziness*

I think it was like 6am when we got back to Pepper's. Heh. I woke up today with the worst goddamn hangover. I STILL have it. Good ol' mixing of liquor, beer and wine. Stupidstupidstupid. Faded in and out on the couch pretty much all day. Finally found the energy to get up and go home to shower and grab smokes around 5. And here I sit, not really wanting to move. Something was going on tonight, but I really feel like dogshit and I don't think I have enough gas to get back to Stanwood and home again. Balls.

OH! I SEE, MYSPACE! You wanna tell me there are errors uploading my photos and NOW they show up! ASSHOLE.

BLEHHHH.

I'm dying of foodz. Ugh. Kill me.

I'm excited for tomorrow. Going out into the world again. Heh. Got my interview at 11:30, then I'ma go cling to Mike for the rest of the day/night, most likely. There was talk of going to the Hotel for drinks with Terry and Christine, but I'm not sure I wanna see him right now. Heh.

Yeah, he broke up with me again. Over the phone. During my last day in LA. Awesome. Not that I'm really heartbroken or anything (I honestly haven't even been thinking about it-- it's kinda as if it never happened). It's just been pissing me off how fucking inconsistent he can be.

But who knows. I'd like Terry and I to be friends, but I'm not entirely sure either of us will be capable of that. Every time we try to hang out as 'just friends', he gets plastered, re-confesses his love for me (out of sheer loneliness, I'm sure) and we end up back together (partially my fault, I know). Then he bores of me a week later. It's getting tiring.

I think being single at this point would make my life more consistent. Heh. I'm sick of this on-again off-again shit. I know I myself can be an INCREDIBLY indecisive creature (I'm getting better lately, though), but I fucking DESPISE that quality in other people. I surround myself with confident, strong-willed, ambitious people for a reason.

I love him. But he needs to figure out what the fuck he wants in life and if there's any real reason for me to be in it. Really. And I wish him all the best.

But yeah. Tomorrow will be grood. Especially since I can listen to my effing Zune in my car again. YAY.

Really? Interesting.

Today was full of eventful glory. Went to check out a jobby at noonish. Harassed Mike and Emerald until they got off work. Wandered around the mall for a bit with Mike 'cause he was feeling abstract. Again. Heh! Met up with mom at Denny's to go to Northgate. Grabbed teh Chev, walked to the mall and discovered that they couldn't help us. Sooooo we walked back to the apartment, called customer service and we cancelled Chev's line, but then learned it would cost $500. PER LINE. To transfer them into my name. FUCK YOU, AT&T. So we're just gonna leave it in Chev's name and I'll take over paying it on the interbutt.

Fuckin' eh. 500 FUCKING dollars. Are they serious?!?! REALLY?!??!

So then we came home and I busted my car stereo's faceplate apart to diagnose the aux input issue. The wires from the main board to the jack had busted loose inside. UGH. So I whipped out Terry's soldering iron and welded those bitches back on. And it worked! I WAS SO ECSTATIC. Mind you, I'd never touched or even SEEN a soldering iron in my life. Heh.

PROUD. Now I can resume listening to my Zune in teh Dr. Tran-sir.

Anyhow. Mike and I went into Guess today. HEH. AFTER I FUCKING LEAVE, they freed up the right-hand side of the purse wall in the back for what? WHAT?!?! SHOES! FUCKING SHOES. BASTARDS. HOWWWWW long had I bitched about wanting half of the goddamn purse wall for shoes?!?! UGHHHHH.

Whatever. Over it.

Jobby interview on Friday. YAAAYYYYY.

And in other news. Karina got me these fucking SEXUAL platform leopard print ankle boots and I'm trying to build a halloween costume around them. All I can really come up with so far is "Whore". HEH. Just need me some thigh-high fishnets and one of those nifty pairs of boyshorts with garters attached.

Fuckingfuckfuck.

I'm torturing myself looking for jobs in LA on craigslist. Again. UGH.

There's seriously so much more to offer there. It fucking sucks.

So here's what's gonna happen. I'm getting a job this week. I'm putting $150-$250 a month into a savings account until somewhere around next summer. Then I'm fucking gone, you guys. For atleasteight months, 'cause I want to go to school down there in Burbank.

Yep. That's what's goin' down.

FUCK THIS HOUSE!

I'm venturing out into the world on Wednesday! HEH. Gotta go see about a jobby and pounce on Mike's face. Then I have to meet up with mom after she gets off work and go deal with some phone business in Northgate with teh Chev around 5.

Yay. I'm already sick of being stuck in this house. It figures that I'm going stir crazy in my house, but didn't being stuck in a sub-compact car with the same two people for nearly five days. Heh.

In other news. I'm feeling insanely dehydrated. It's fucking pissing me off. HOW many glasses of apple and orange juice have I had today? COME ON!

Idunfeeeeeelgood.

OH. MY. GOD.

Sooooo the drive down was fairly uneventful. We left at 2pm on Wednesday and I drove from the house to Albany, Oregon (I DIDN'T PUMP MY OWN GAS. IT FREAKED ME OUT), John drove from Albany to somewhere around Mt. Shasta City, CA, then I took over from there to just after Sacramento. John drove from there to Coalinga, then I drove the rest of the way to LA. We got there at like 1pm on Thursday. LA really freaked me out at first. I was in complete and utter shock at how so much shit is packed into that city. Plus, we came in through the ghetto, so I was a little freaked out about that. Heh! Went and got Karina, followed her all over La Brea and Hollywood trying to find a hotel that wouldn't try to rape us for over $70 a night. It didn't happen. We ended up deciding on the Blue Star Inn on La Brea. It was $75 a night. Ugh. It was decent. Not extraordinary, but clean enough. Although, we did turn on the tv and there was porn blasting in our faces. HEH! Luckily there were some regular channels, too.

So basically all of Thursday afternoon was spent on our asses in the motel. We did, however, go check out Hollywood later that night. Went to H&H and couldn't buy a goddamn thing. It was torture. Got harassed by a Jack Sparrow impersonator. Took some pictures of the Scientology sign and Marilyn's hand/foot prints at the Chinese Theater. Her hand prints were absolutely FILTHY 'cause so many effing people put their hands into them over the years. Went back to the room and passed out while everyone else went to Karina's friend's 'ninja party', where I guess no one was even dressed as a ninja. Heh.

Woke up around 10 the next morning to a cold In-N-Out burger sitting on the table. Awwwww. Went and paid dude for another night, then wandered down La Brea and got foodz. We got smashed when we went back to the room. Well, I did. I got all drunk and happy and ended up passing the fuck out. Woke up with money on my head. Still drunk. Heh. So we parked at H&H, took Karina to work at Hot Pocket and started the walk to the Keyclub. Which was WAAAYYYYY farther than we thought it would be. Like, FUCKING FAR. H&H was on one of the 6000 blocks on Hollywood Blvd. Keyclub was like, 90-something thousand on Sunset. It was amazing though. We walked by about a million liquor stores that DELIVERED and the Whiskey. Heeee. So we finally get there, pick up the tickets we will-called, got inside and we each had a six-dollar beer. FUCK. I had a PABST and it was SIX FUCKING DOLLARS. The opening bands were pretty decent, but I was experiencing too many nerves to enjoy them properly. Went downstairs and finally met Six and Sic at the merchy booth. Bought a sticker for Dr. Tran-sir, 'cause I literally only had like $7 and the shirts were effing $30. When HWP finally took the stage I went absolutely fucking ballistic. My neck still hurts.

So. They played (in this order? I can't remember...):

Graverobbers From Mars
Disease
Exit Wound
Drugstore
Shine
Electra
Powerstrip
ONE NIGHT IN SPAIN (I literally started to cry)
Dog
AND THEY COVERED "I FEEL YOU" by DEPECHE FUCKING MODE. OH. MY. GOD.

Best. Show. EVAARRRR. Brandon took off running to H&H to pick up Karina before Snot started. HEH. And they were really, really amazing. The new singer sounds exactly like Lynn. They got back with my car before Snot's set ended. And since Karina's not 21 yet and she didn't have a ticket, we couldn't stay for the after party. I was starting to feel gnarly anyway, so we just went back to the room. I passed out almost immediately.

Woke up around 10am, started loading all our shit back into our vehicles, then went to IHOP in Inglewood for the most ridiculously tiny pancakes EVER, then went to Karina's to hang out and drink coffee and check our myspaces until 2. Our departure was pretty emotional. Heh. Karina didn't want us to leave, and *I* REALLY didn't want to leave. I wanted to just effing stay and look for a job. Really.

Traffic on 110 was insane. But when we hit Northbound I-5 it lightened up a bit. The drive home went by so fucking fast. I drove from LA to some place I didn't catch the name of (I'd imagine it was somewhere around the Coalinga area), John drove from there to Zamora, I drove from there to Yreka, John from there to Albany, then I drove from there until somewhere around Chehalis. Where I got pulled over for the first time ever. UGH. The cop apparently clocked me at 81 in a 70. Which is fucking BULLSHIT. But, I'm going to pay it 'cause he could have cited me for no insurance but didn't. THANK GOD. John got a ticket for sleeping in the backseat without a seatbelt. Whatever. He's gonna contest it. HEH. So after that I found a rest area and John took over until we got to Justin's in Marysville. No one was home. GUH. Drove back home and passed the fuck out.

Weeeeeeee. Time to resize a million pictures. However. Here is the most memorable quote from the trip:

"There's really hot girls in Oregon. But there's really hot girls everywhere. So FUCK OREGON." -John, said somewhere in Portland

Also, our road trip names were derived from overpasses in Portland. HEH. We drove under Killingsworth St or some shit and I said that would be my new Myspace name. HEH. Madame Killingsworth. So John said he and Brandon would take the next overpasses. Brandon wound up being "Mr. Going" and John was "Sir Skidmore". Amazingpants.

GUH. So doing this again next year. But next time I might not come back.

WEEEE!

This is definitely happening. We're REALLY leaving for LA tomorrow. I'm so fucking excited and pleased. And now that we've got John coming with us, it's gonna cost even less. I figured about $304 for gas there and back (and that was even overshooting the average gas price and undershooting my MPG), $87 for three tickets and $55 for the hotel the second night. All together that's $148 each. NICE. Of course, I'm not factoring in food and whatnot, but we'll just Taco Bell it up and that'll be cheap as fuck.

I am SO excited. My first real long-distance road trip as an 'adult'. Heh!

Now all I have left to do is finish my laundry, figure out if we're taking my car or John's car (depending on his average MPG), and if we're taking mine, go to my storage unit and unload all the shit out of my trunk, then go get me and Mike's joint-custody bitch camera.

Wooooo!!!

FUCK.

Well fuck that. I think I was having a moment of self-hatred because Terry came back at me last night about 500 times worse than what I laid on him the other night.

Are we all good now and still together? Yes. For now.

My phone sounded a voicemail alert last night around 10pm. Apparently Terry had been calling for two hours straight and of course, he was wasted so he immediately assumed I was ignoring his calls. No. I was at home and I barely get service here. So he felt the need to call me a coward and just hurl everything he could at me via eight voicemails. I'm ugly. My voice sounds stupid. My teeth are disgusting. My hair is 'frizzy'. I have 'horrible personal hygiene'. I need to get a job. I'm dumb.

"All my friends always ask why I'm with you, and I tell them I don't know."

"Dude, I love you, but you're a stupid bitch."

This is never going to end. We'll do really well for a while and then I decide to go home and he gets wasted and wants me to come over, but I don't get my messages in time so he assumes I'm ignoring him and unleashes the most hurtful fucking shit he can muster. Which is REALLY fucking hurtful, to say the least. Then I get a hold of him, we yell at each other for a good ten minutes, then we make up and I go over to his house.

WHY DO I PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT?!?! If any of my friends told me they're going through exactly what I am now, I'd tell them to dump the motherfucker because they don't deserve that shit. Why am I so different?!?!

FUCK. Sometimes I wish we'd have had a clean fucking break.

Anyhow. Got to Terry's. He was passed out. OF COURSE. So I had to bang on his window. Didn't even stir. Opened his window and yelled at him to get up and open the door, 'cause it was locked. Had a smoke, fucked around, went to sleep. Woke up at 10am, went to Elger Bay so he could pick up smokes and give me gas money, went back to the house and I watched him frame up a dog house for Sidney for about 4 hours. Which was amusing as fuck, actually. And hey, now I can make a dog house if I ever need to. Heh.

Goddamnit. I wish I could fucking figure out why I put up with so much shit. He was SO AMAZING at first. The only thing that I can figure happened is he grew some sort of hatred for me after he got his second DUI last year. I mean, yeah, it was partially my fault. But he REALLY didn't have to get behind the wheel. But if he fucking hates me so much like he always says in those horrible fucking voicemails, why does he continue to bother with me? I even asked him that last night.

"Uhhh... because I love you? Durrface."

...not really. If you love someone you don't intentionally hurt them. EVER. I would NEVER say anything like that to him.

Ugh. To be continued.

Fuck my life.

I feel really strange. I'm super fucking hungover, but I'm not experiencing any nausea. WEIRD. All day I've felt like I could puke at any moment, but wasn't dizzy or really sick at all. Kinda fucking weird.

Last night Mike and I met up with Terry at Blazing Saddles, then we all headed over to the Hotel. Had a jager bomb and several beers, plus random swipes off Terry's drinks and pulls off Mike's vodka in that was in my car. Ended up at Grant's house (I think it was Grant's house...). Drank a shitload of beer and I ended up unloading everything that was wrong in my head onto Terry and things aren't great now. Heh. I lose. Muchly. I've got serious fucking jealousy issues which I tend to bottle up forever and drinking makes me rant. A lot. So I ended up bawling and thought it'd be a good time to leave. Heh. So Mike drove us back to his house and I promptly passed out.

God damn. I just really shouldn't be with anyone.

Woooooopants.

Oh man. I got the photos in the mail today (obviously). I was expecting a lot more considering how long it took them to get to me, but meh. Can't really complain about TFCD, eh? And one of the pictures was AMAZING, but the wind had blown some of my hair all crazy and I'm debating on whether or not I wanna upload it anyway. HEH.

I have the same face in every photo. I really need to work on that... AND the overall warmth of each photo doesn't translate to the web. Stupid web colors. They look a lot nicer when you're viewing them straight off the cd. *sigh* I wish he'd included some of the pictures of me smoking. Heh! They were full of attitude and zest and... cancer. Yep.

But enough complaining. I'm pretty damn happy with how they turned out (considering how effing hungover I was...) and I definitely wanna work with him again. Clint's a cool dude.

So last night I went over to Pepper and Dan's. There were so many goddamn people there. Heh. I finally met Dan Weatherly, and he was completely wasted and asked me my name four times even after I said "Bre, like the cheese." That usually makes my name stick. Heh. And he was trying to kidnap Pepper and I and take us to the casino. Heh! I said I was poor as fuckall, but he said something to the effect of my face getting us all free drinks. Or something. Weirdo.

"Bre, your rave name should be... Jesus. With a 'G'." -Pepper

Took a quick trip up to Bellingham with Mike and Pepper. Heh! Went back to Pepper's, drank a box of wine and some beer. Apparently I pulled a Terry and was slumped on the couch with my eyes half open mumbling to Mike. I don't remember this at all. Woke up at 10-ish today with a HORRIBLE hangover. HORRIBLE. I'm still dealing with it right now. I thought I was gonna puke when I got home. Luckily I didn't. I'm just cold and shakey and my borrowed Camel Wides are making me sick, but I can't stop smoking them. Ugh.

So. Hopefully Sam calls soon so I can stick a hole in her tongue. Then I gotta put some pink chunks in Kali's hair and see about going to some party in Oso. Fucking OSO. I haven't been out there since... freshman year of high school. Wow.

God, I feel like AIDS.

For personal reference...

Arlington to LA: 1,181 miles
Gas: approx. $242.95 both ways
Tickets: $58

Total: $300.95

IN HAPPY NEWS!

I just received word that my cd of photos from the shoot with Clint is being put in the mail today!

FUCK! SO MUCH EXCITEMENT!!! I can't handle it!!!

*explodes*

*dies of laughter*

I've been going through old blogs, comments, messages and livejournal posts lately. I dunno. Don't ask. But I came across this in my comments *chuckle* *snort* *death*

Sarah Estrella Jan 23, 2006 11:50 PM

David- Last On: Jan 23, 2006 9:45 PM
Justin- Last On: Jan 23, 2006 9:15 PM.
Jimmy- Last On: Jan 23, 2006 9:15 PM
(Myspace doesn't tell you what TIME the person was last on! What the hell?! How fucking OBSESSIVE was she to calculate the EXACT TIME each of them signed off?!?!)

Hmm. So to the fuckingDOUCHEBAGSwho wouldn't answer the motherfuckin' call wave or get off of the interent, FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKERS.

I calledFIVE FUCKING TIMESwithin the period of time they were online. And none of them got offline for even a second. And especially when I say, "hey, it's kinda important, " you'd think that one of these fuck-faces would kindly log off and whatnot. Especially if it only takes two minutes to log right back on.

But no. They're all jackasses.

I'm getting really fucking frustrated with the treatment of my brother and the way he tweaks after they fuck with him. I HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT MOTHERFUCKERS.

That call was important to me and Randy, did you even get it anytime soon? Still, even though they kinda ruined the excitement. Call me, my cell phone is right here, I wanted to tell you things, yes.

Pigheaded assholes.

We finally get Randy leveled out, and now he's fuckin' tweaking again. I'mma kill someone. I hate to see Randy upset.
And he was on the brink of exploding. He wanted to deystroy their faces. I think they should get some sense knocked into them.

Fuckin' Cunts.

Your bitches are dumb, ugly whores.
You're a sad excuse of a man, if you could even call yourself a man.
And you, you're a fucking disease. Good Fucking Riddance.

My brother is a good, honest person. He doesn't need people like that fucking with him. Deceptive, theiving, cum-guzzling twats. Seriously, you fuck with my brother, you done fucked up.

Guh. Bre. I deeply apologize for ranting, but seriously, why must they be such assholes? Can't they just realize?
After all Randy has done for those lil' shits, and they fuck with him!? What. The. Fuck.

GUHHHHHHH!

SARAH

So guess what all that was about? Sarah wanted to tell me... *dundunDUNNNN* that she DROVE HOME. DROVE. FROM MY HOUSE. TO HERS. And Randy wanted to "destroy their faces" because... Sarah wasn't able to tell me she drove home. So she got online to publicly slander all the people who were using my computer when she was trying to call. On my fucking profile. Badass.

*dies laughing* I love coming across reminders of why they've been cleaned out of my life.

Some of you may see this as slander, but I simply see it as painting a more realistic picture of the person that she really is, using her own words. This. REALLY. HAPPENED. And it's HILARIOUS.

Moneymoneymonieeeeesssss.

So I've got a piercing lined up for Friday. That's $40 closer to my goal. HEH! Hey, it's better than nothin'.

Also. Since I left me and Mike's 'joint custody bitch' camera in his car, I think I'm gonna go to Gramma and Grampa's tomorrow to take pictures of all the shoes I'm selling. I tried using Brandon's camera, but it won't capture the colors correctly at all and it's giving me a lot of shit otherwise. It really, REALLY pains me to have to part with any of my shoes, but I've carefully selected all the pairs that either don't fit anymore or that I'm just not going to wear ever again. They're all in great shape and have only ever been worn once or twice.

On the list are:
DAY-GLO hot pink patent pumps from Wet Seal (4-inch heel - size 7 - asking $20)
DAY-GLO neon green patent pumps from Wet Seal (4-inch heel - size 7 - asking $20)
Bronze t-strap stacked wood wedge from Guess (4-inch wedge - size 7 - asking $25)
Strappy black and pewter stacked (black) wood wedge from Guess (4-inch wedge - size 7 - asking $25)
Black t-strap cork platform wedges from Guess (1-inch platform, 5-inch wedge - size 7 - asking $30)
Black suede knee-high boots with fold-over top and suede/patent buckle detail at ankle from Guess (4-inch heel - size 7 - asking $45)
Black suede Heelys with camo logo (boy's size 6, women's size 8 - asking $50)

I'm also selling the first season of Drawn Together on dvd (viewed twice) and a copy of Quake 4 for pc (never used). I'm asking $14 for each.

In other news. I went to bed on Tuesday morning at 1-ish, woke up at 11am, passed back out around 5, then woke up again at 11pm with the start of a terrible migraine. What the hell? I'm shaking and I'm having issues typing. Ugh. This is annoying.