Sunday, September 15, 2002

another day of absolute zero productive-ness
Bad. Bad. Bad. But anyways. I actually brought a real, tangible journal a couple days ago. It's pretty. And elegant. But not so stuffy that I'd feel weird writing crushes or stupid mundane daily happenings in. I went to Hollywood Bowl with journalism last night. A Dream of Africa. Then there's fireworks near the end. It was gorgeous. The singer (supposedly a "national treasure" of African music) is 70, but she kept making these weird rasps when she spoke, as if it took her a supreme effort to get out the last few syllables of a word. I know I am being terribly judgemental and nit-picky (after all, she is 70), but still. It just irrated me a bit, that's all. But overall, very nice night.

Someone is really getting on my nerves. For that someone, who shall remain nameless, fuck off. Please. I mean that very nicely, and you are a very nice girl, and we have become somewhat decent friends. If you intend your remarks in jest, I am not amused. If you mean it otherwise, repeat: fuck off. ...*deep breath* I mean that in the best way possible, really. =] I have to get rid of this negative energy, the ones that "someone" sends off, and the ones that I get as a result of her negativity. So basically she sucks and now I suck. Because she sucks. I am making sense, to myself at least.