don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone?

2:05 p.m.
/
26 February, 2004

Feeling oddly patriotic today, not exactly sure why. I keep humming 'There will always be an England', which sucks because I only know the chorus and even I'm starting to get annoyed with myself. It's almost like I've listened to chart music or something.

The Mother Monster and I talked about stuff the other night. About how I don't blame her for the mistakes she made raising me, because no kid escapes childhood unscathed. We also discussed what would happen if she should ever decide to leave the step-nazi. She thinks she's too old to start again. I said that I understood the practical problems, but that she's too young to give up like that. She's only 44, for God's sake. She told me that I couldn't go putting crazy ideas in her head and that I have to be her voice of reason. Sometimes I don't think she knows me at all.

Charlie text me about quarter to nine last night and said everyone was meeting at the pub in quarter of an hour, did I want to come? Nice to be forgotten until the last minute.

Gary keeps trying to get me to go up to London again. I would like to think that it's because he misses me, but I'm wise enough to know that it has more to do with the fact that I'm the girl in the group that does all the bad stuff and makes everyone else feel okay about what they're doing. I'm not sure I like opening myself up to be called a slut or crazy or whatever everyone calls people who go with the flow and try out all new experiences. I guess I forgot that because I don't actually believe in sluts that doesn't mean everyone else doesn't, especially girls. R.I.P feminism.

My cousin, my little 18 year old cousin, officially asked me to be her bridesmaid last night. I have to wear dark blue, which combined with my black hair is going to make me look decidedly like a giant bruise. I'm worried that she's going to pick a dress that shows too many of my scars, which won't be pleasant.

I would like to point out that a lot of said scars were not my fault. I was the clumsiest unluckiest kid in the world when I was younger. I once knocked myself out (and almost a couple of teeth too) playing Blindman's Bluff. I broke a finger doing a forward roll in P.E. class when I was about 6. I even fractured another finger in a toilet door at the school leavers' party a couple of years ago. Then there was that unfortunate incident at age 4 when I was standing at the top of the stairwell and was convinced if I took a running jump, I would be able to fly. Okay, I was unlucky, clumsy AND stupid.

I guess that's all I have to say about that. My name's Forrest. Forrest Gump.

Sorry, couldn't resist.


	Run, Foooorrrrrest, Ruuuuun!
	2:05 p.m. / 26 February, 2004 Feeling oddly patriotic today, not exactly sure why. I keep humming 'There will always be an England', which sucks because I only know the chorus and even I'm starting to get annoyed with myself. It's almost like I've listened to chart music or something. The Mother Monster and I talked about stuff the other night. About how I don't blame her for the mistakes she made raising me, because no kid escapes childhood unscathed. We also discussed what would happen if she should ever decide to leave the step-nazi. She thinks she's too old to start again. I said that I understood the practical problems, but that she's too young to give up like that. She's only 44, for God's sake. She told me that I couldn't go putting crazy ideas in her head and that I have to be her voice of reason. Sometimes I don't think she knows me at all. Charlie text me about quarter to nine last night and said everyone was meeting at the pub in quarter of an hour, did I want to come? Nice to be forgotten until the last minute. Gary keeps trying to get me to go up to London again. I would like to think that it's because he misses me, but I'm wise enough to know that it has more to do with the fact that I'm the girl in the group that does all the bad stuff and makes everyone else feel okay about what they're doing. I'm not sure I like opening myself up to be called a slut or crazy or whatever everyone calls people who go with the flow and try out all new experiences. I guess I forgot that because I don't actually believe in sluts that doesn't mean everyone else doesn't, especially girls. R.I.P feminism. My cousin, my little 18 year old cousin, officially asked me to be her bridesmaid last night. I have to wear dark blue, which combined with my black hair is going to make me look decidedly like a giant bruise. I'm worried that she's going to pick a dress that shows too many of my scars, which won't be pleasant. I would like to point out that a lot of said scars were not my fault. I was the clumsiest unluckiest kid in the world when I was younger. I once knocked myself out (and almost a couple of teeth too) playing Blindman's Bluff. I broke a finger doing a forward roll in P.E. class when I was about 6. I even fractured another finger in a toilet door at the school leavers' party a couple of years ago. Then there was that unfortunate incident at age 4 when I was standing at the top of the stairwell and was convinced if I took a running jump, I would be able to fly. Okay, I was unlucky, clumsy AND stupid. I guess that's all I have to say about that. My name's Forrest. Forrest Gump. Sorry, couldn't resist. prev > next > fresh > rotted > profile > fans > rings > notes > email > design > host >