Damn, I can't ever pull off that serious look.

*giggles*

New Harry Potter book! New Harry Potter book! WAAAAAAHOOOOOO!!!! *does silly little dance* OK, back to reading now! *pushes glasses up and looks very serious*

But, that prolly wouldn't have been very productive. Therapy-wise. *nods*

When my therapist asked me how bad my anxiety was, on a scale from one to ten, I was very tempted to say, "My anxiety goes to eleven!"

I might have said something really drunken dorky to the Cool Guy in the Pub tonight. I'm not sure. Spleeef.

Please God, don't ever let this buzz fade.

And "I'm sorry" is the most inadequate phrase EVER. It's like having a forged note from your mother excusing you from responsibility. From life. Saying "sorry" does not make anything better, all it might do is make the unhurt person feel like they have paid their debt to the hurt person, while the hurt person does not feel remotely vindicated and in fact wants to strangle the unhurt person with some piano wire. Hence, the aforementioned unbreechable line.

Obviously this does not apply to all situations. Sometimes "I'm sorry" is a perfectly acceptable response, say, if you stepped on someone's foot or there was a simple misunderstanding. When it is absolutely NOT acceptable is when you are in the process of irreperable friend-betrayal.

Today I said to my former friend, "You are a spectacularly large asshole." *

* Note: This did not actually happen.

I think that of all the lines that can be drawn between people, be it black and white, gay and straight, liberal and conservative, the most defining and hardest to breech is between the hurt and unhurt.

Though perhaps it is better than hurtling toward death at a breakneck speed, depending on your point of view.

I sort of feel like I'm drifting slowly toward death. That can't be good.

However, I think listing "cereal" in your interest list is very cool.

Ditto "cheese."

Spotted on someone's Yahoo profile interest list:

Bible Studies
Hacking
Christianity

*wonders if hacking officially breaks any commandments, and decides that an important lesson was missed at some point, regardless*

No, I'm not behind the drapes.

When one loses one's imaginary friend, to where exactly does one turn for friendship? Gerbils? Dust bunnies? Pencil sharpeners?

What I want to say to people: Don't you understand that I would rather be a catgirl or a fairy or a student at Hogwarts than an outcast in this desert world? What the hell point is there to reality anyway, except as a springboard for the imagination? Who the fuck really cares about copy machines and golf handicaps and GPA's (or anything else with smug initials) and new wallpaper and car mileage and all the other obscenely dull things people insist on blathering about? Anyone? Do people choose dullness or does it choose them? I am hiding from dullness. And I am not telling you where. You might tell!