12:29 a.m.
/
18 June, 2004

The brother's girlfriend is staying the night again. I'm pondering whether to set the house on fire, but I'd have to make sure the cat, goldfish, hamster, mice and terrapin were out first... Boy, we sure do have a lot of pets all of a sudden. I can't believe I just used the word boy as an exclamation. Shoot me.

Anyway, about The Girlfriend, it's not that I don't like her, or it's not JUST that I don't like her. It's just that I think she's a clingy, empty-headed, passive aggressive, attention-seeking bimbo. She also keeps buying me presents, which totally fucks with my head, since as a poor, working class girl, I go totally fucking starry eyed over people who give me gifts. But, I gotta admit that it was her ruining my birthday that put her eternally into my bad books. And also, the brain-dead thing. It terrifies the hell out of me that I may one day be blood related to the offspring of a woman who still, at the age of 17, cannot spell 'friend' correctly. Every time I see her I want to stuff her hair into her mouth until she chokes on it. That would be the perfect murder.

When I was little, my dream was to grow up and share a house with Marilyn Monroe. I'm not sure why that's relevant, but I just remembered today and it amused me. Of course, when I was little I also wanted to grow up to look just like Morticia Addams, so I guess we can just say that I was a weird little kid.

Ah, but so much has changed since then. I'm now going to bed to watch 'Rebel Without A Cause' with the sound down and Jeff Buckley's 'Grace' album playing in the background. If I could meet a man or woman who personified Jeff Buckley and James Dean, I would become their very own vestal virgin and serve in their temple.