too bad she couldn't spell.

one day i hope to be as stylish as claudia kishi from the babysitters' club. she was fearless.

all i need.

night drives through the country watching rainless light storms.


pure love.

fruit doctor.

i'd love to know why my raspberries taste like bananas. i feel like i shouldn't be eating them; there's probably something wrong with them.



oh well.

peace.

it feels really good when you stop being crazy.

mostly for the attention and free shit.

i always wanted to be on mtv's becoming.

i am a capitalist whore.

i will pay three dollars for a bottle of water.

you can take the girl out of the city,
but you can't take the city out of the girl.




that's probably okay.

overheard in starbucks.

awkward foreign girl: How long have you been together?

snobby fashion student: Four years. But we break up a lot, I mean a lot. and he has sex with really ugly girls, I mean the ugliest girls you've ever seen. And I have sex with royalty.

it rarely lasts long.

but right now i feel peaceful.
i've been psycho lately.
but now, i feel good.
i feel happy, i feel lucky.
he's all mine and i know that.
and i feel it.
and i like it.

too much.

being overwhelmed sucks.

in the end.

people really like linkin park, eh.

suffering.

there is no greater pain than that of one who stubs one's toe.

first it was a spider.

i wish i could describe the mouse that was in my dream last night. it had four legs and they were all underneath it and it was hopping around like a really excited little mouse. it was fantastic.

cross-contamination.

my cereal kinda tastes like rosemary. i'm not quite sure what to make of that.

sweet tat, bro.

my pet peeve is when people say 'tat' instead of 'tattoo'. it's only three extra letters and one extra syllable. abbreviating already short words is somewhere between laziness and lameness.

down to you.

i'll always remember when ashley lawlor and i used to go see freddie prinze jr. movies at famous players cinema and drink 7up through reglisse straws.

bite my bakery, bitch.

i love when things smell like cupcakes.

people change.

i never thought i'd see the day where i could honestly say that i hate sleeping alone.

i really hate sleeping alone.

thoughts and things.

life is short when you think about all the things you want to do

and really long when you think about all the things you haven't done.

...or something like that.

i got so city girl on you.

a deep fear of mine is that one day i will have a subscription to 'country living' magazine.

something that's hard to remember.

i love to be alive.

things suck sometimes.
and then they stop sucking.


i have amazing people in my life.

i am surviving.


i am one lucky bitch.

shorty had them apple bottom jeans.

i am never going to be a hip-hop dancer.
when the instructor stands, all he has to do is stand and he looks like a dancer.
his existence is a dance.
my legs are far too long and thin to be a hip-hopper.
normally one wouldn't complain about length and thinness of legs, but right now it sucks.
i had this realization today, along with the fact that i am both too graceful and too clumsy (yes, at the same time) for the badass roughness of hip-hop.
this is a very sad thing to me, and upon understanding this fact, i seriously considered coming home and crying (real tears out of my eyes) for a very long time about it.
now, thinking slightly more rationally, i cannot comprehend what that would accomplish.
of course, there would be the cathartic, purged feeling that accompanies loss (in this case, the loss of my dreams to dance like a pro), but then what?
i will never be a dancer.
that sucks.
the end.

intriguing thought of the day.

blank.

oh man.

i live with a boy. what a weird thing.

salaud.

i cant stop listening to the song 'salaud' on youtube. jesus.
i saw luc plamondon walking down sherbrooke street a few weeks ago.
i would not know who that was if it weren't for cass, and i won't pretend i would.

i'm moving tomorrow, move # 2 out of three for the summer.
i'm going to live with a boy.
a male.
masculine.
he's a dj and he plays football and he drinks egg out of a glass.
(i know, eh.)

there are many fruit flies in youmna's sink.
i don't mind them as much as that time there were fleas at julia's.

i had mat kill a massive bee today.

i make many smoothies.

today i found myself wondering if i miss scott too much,
or love him too much.
that's a healthy state of mind to be in.

all in all, life is bitchin'.

devious stares.

not sleeping sucks.

wishes.

i wish it were easier to not think of him all the time.
i wish it were easier to sleep and not dream of him.
i wish it were easier to wake up and not wish he were next to me.
i wish it were easier to know that in three months, he'll be back.
i wish it were easier to get through every day without him.
i wish it were easier to not wish he were with me through everything i do.
i wish it were easier to not miss him in this all-consuming way.

after awhile.

eventually, everyone stops crying so much.

tegan and sara.

tegan and sara make me feel all these things.

crying.

crying is exhausting. crying is relieving. crying takes so much out of you. crying takes you by surprise. crying is hard to stop. crying sometimes gets in the way. crying is sometimes the only way.

matters in hands.

just when you think you have no friends left, all you have to do is go out and buy 10 seasons of friends on dvd. now you'll never be friendless.

loneliness.

being alone is really shitty. missing people is really really shitty. i miss people. i miss my best friend. i miss my boyfriend. i feel alone and shitty.

letters.

dear self,
you've really been slacking lately. i read some of your old journal entries yesterday, and i'm not gonna lie, i liked reading them. remember, self, when everyone would tell you what a good writer you were, and you were like, 'shut it guys!'? come on. i know you remember. well, you're an asshole. they were right. you were really not that bad. pretty good, one might even say.
then what happened to you? you didn't get a different brain; all those thoughts must still be in there somewhere! where are they? your journals are much less fun to read these days. maybe its because you just dont write anymore. well, self, what is it that you're so busy doing that leaves no time for cleverness? making smoothies? getting laid? facebooking? listening to bad music? how many of those are valid? um... NONE. maybe you just need a new pen to motivate you. or 26-hour days. or the ability to function on 4 hours sleep every night without it eventually leading to a breakdown.
well, self, i'm sure you have smoothies to make or bad music to listen to, so i won't keep you. just know that i believe that deep down, you still have the ability to be clever and interesting. maybe do something about that.
have a good night, and i love you very much.
sincerely,
yourself.

my band.

i love 'my band' by d12. i hated it when it came out, and now i can't stop listening to it. its so funny. seriously.

good intentions.

I wanted to start blogging. I was going to do it often and write all the clever things I thought. But because of the title of my last one, they went and blocked by account because they thought I was spam. I've never been called spam before. I guess I appreciate how thorough they are. But at the same time, it was kind of shitty.

I learned things about chickens and dinosaurs today. One day we will turn a chicken into a dinosaur. I feel it.

I secretly like Psychotic 4.

viagra.

it's funny to listen to people talk and replace the nouns in their sentences with 'viagra'. you should try it sometime.

a fine dime brizzle.

i dont really know anything about blogs. but i think this is an important step in a human's socio-cultural integration. i'm kidding. i know that doesn't even mean anything. but if it did, it would be true. one day i'll figure it all out. and it'll be pimp.
today i listened to drop it like it's hot, and i looked up the words. i encourage everyone to do the same.