The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out...

Boo! I love Halloween, even though it has kind of felt over since the par-tee, and this weekend for TV is nothing short of spectacular! The DVR box is practically busting at the seems with various recorded blather, such as food shows, movies and specials on Fred Gwynne. That is why I requested this weekend off of work. To watch TV! It is most certainly not lame because this is what I look foreward to every year.

Anywho, we found the Flesh Falcon. It is a 1988 flesh colored conversion van with 73,000 miles on it and in great shape. OMG it has a sink, toilet, bathtub, microwave, stove, bed, and it is FLESH COLORED! This has seriously been my dream since I can remember and I'll be fucked if I'm letting it get away. I can just picture Ezra and I on the open road with Hatchie between us, Ezra puffin' on a pipe with a captians hat and me with a mumu and rollers with fuzzie slippers. This Flesh Falcon called and I answered it's howl with open arms. Seriously, it is beautiful. I'm gonna try to recruit Lisa into helping me reapholster it with velour seat cushions and shag carpeting. Then the four of us are going to go pick us up some Mexicalli hookers (boys or girls) and have a orgy to rival all orgies that have come before. I'm obsessed with this van. After we went to look at it yesterday, we went to Top Gun Tacos, which was right next door and got sick off some nasty microwaved Mexican food. Their tortilla chips were Cool Ranch Doritos for Chrissakes. Oh Brookpark, how you have the Flesh Falcon and the worst taco place ever. The dichotomy is killing me.

Soooo I don't have to work for the 5th day in a row. It is amazing. I think I will do nothing until my mother comes over and takes me out to eat. Oh, and I ordered my boootiful boots on the internet today and I will be oh so happy when they arrive. Lurve is in the air.

Also, I think I'm kind of over Kate Moss. She's looking mighty busted lately and getting married to that fucking train wreck of a Brit. Don't judge me. I love celebrity gossip. My life is boring (I'm cool with that) and I need to revel in the lives of Nicole Richie and Kate. www.gofugyourself.com is a really good website because all it does is mock celebrity fashion and that's basically what I do to the general public. Heehee.

Anywayzzzz all is good in Wolffville, so I must go. Many movies are calling my name to be watched!

I heard your mom wears underwear with dick holes in them.

Gd it. The thoughts occurring in my head are as follows:
*Can I puh-lease get some more money so's I can go more shopping. It's been SOOOO long.

*Why hasn't something gone wrong in my life for a hot minute? I mean besides the totally dealable random stuff (friends hating me, school is mad hard, yo...etc.), life has been a piece of pumpkin cheesecake. Everything is beyond great with Ezra, my happiness level with him has plateaued (sp?) at a very comfortable level. I got into U of T, moving is going as planned, my parents aren't TOO mad at me for abandoning them for the Lone Star State. This is not right folks. I am a walking calamity and a magnet for crazy stupid drama. Not dumb girly drama such as fighting with my friends or boyfriend jealousy issues, but like death drama. I have had two ex-boyfriends that have bit the dust, 2 cousins having young untimely deaths and the usual grandparents, plus some random stupid shit. Everyone deals with death, but I have to face it on a biyearly basis. Knock on wood right? Be happy nothing is going wrong, right? Oh contraire mi amigos, that bitch named life has suprised me oh so many times when I wasn't expecting it, so these fists are staying raised...the urban streetfighter gloves are going to stay donned. I know what's coming next and I'm gonna be waiting.

*The friday the 13th party was awesome.

*I am beginning to get really excited about moving. Especially with all the talks of hobo parties with Lisa.

*I am hungry. Someone make me some fall foods, such as potato chedder soup or some sort of squash dish.

I fucking love my dog and my boyfriend. Sleeping with both of them entertwined in cowboy sheets is the best feeling in the world. Ezra has really turned my life around and has been everything I could have ever asked for in a boyfriend and a best friend. We have so much in common and it feels so good to never have to fight with someone and worry about dumb shit. He makes me happy. Like a lot.

*I hope that I get to see my friends soon. I want to cuddle and drink tea and watch movies and eat comfortable foods. And talk shit about other people. Come on my faithfull followers, you don't think I'm getting soft on ya now, do ya?

Love ya.

Donde Esta Santa Claus?

Wow. What a crazy last few couple of days. Just kidding, it wasn't that crazy in the eyes of some people, but madly crazy in my eyes (which never see any action). I had four days off in a row which ruled my school. Wednesday night I went to Ladytron with Angie and Amy, two of my favorite girls and we danced the night away! The best part of the night was when this cute gay boy came and sat down next to me when I was getting some air and said "It's a mother fucking fag fest in there and I'm lovin it!". Lord knows I love them gays. Then on Thursday Ezra and I met Angie and Ryan in stupid Cleveland and I drank vodka tonics and ate a Xanax. That's about all I can remember from that little excursion.

Friday we did nothing but go the the bar for a little while and sit around and hung out. I wanted to go to a haunted house but, per usual, I was shot down. No one is any fun.

Saturday was the horror convention and I proceeded to get drunk and break the clothes hanger thingy in the hotel room and take pictures of every horny nerd in the joint with Karen as my accomplice. Fun times.

That's really just it. I don't really feel like getting deep into anything heavy right now, so I'll just continue to watch horror movies (3 so far today) and nurse this hangover, all the while waiting for Ezra to get home from work so I can fuck his brains out.

Motherfuck Death Row, and Here Comes My Left Blow!

Blargh. I feel yucka. I'm sitting home alone with a headache while everyone else is at the bar having fun. I can't really explain why I feel bad, it's bizarre. I feel kind of insecure with a tad of the lonliness. So I'll type a while and maybe I'll feel better.

So, I (my mom rather) got the letter from Greg's grandmother with the coroner's report on Greg's death. Wait, not the coroner's report, the autopsy report. My mom won't give it to me. She says there is nothing in the report that I don't already know. Asphyxiation, contents of stomach, etc. I don't know how I feel about this. There were no drugs in his system. Oddly enough, that is not at all comforting to me. Maybe if he WAS on drugs I wouldn't feel as if it were so much my fault. I totally feel as if it IS my fault and that weighs heavy on my soul. I mean HEAVY. Anyway, I think I'm going to read it anyway. Closure perhaps? We'll see.

I got accepted to U of T. Fucking weird. Now I have a question. Is there any way to make moving away from my parents any easier than it seems to be (which is not easy at all)? I tell you what, the closer this moving day draws, the more freaking nervous I become. Will Ezra and I continue to get along? What if we break up? What if Ben and Lisa decide that they hate my slimy greasy gopher guts and kick me out on the streets? I'll be forced to panhandle at the Alamo. No one is going to give a white girl spare change when there are so many illegal immagrants roaming about. Seriously though. I'm nervous. I love my parents and see them like a million times a week, so obviously I will miss the fuck out of them.

God I seriously have no friends.

I know you are going to read this Amy, but I have to write it anyway. What is going on with you? I know you are going to say nothing, but you are a COMPLETELY different person. I know you are growing up and discovering yourself and whatnot, but I really feel that you are losing yourself in the process. Ok, yes I am bitter because you never seem to want to see me anymore, but outside of that issue I still feel that you are comprimising who you are. You are losing what makes you such a special person and it scares the shit out of me. I truly love you for who YOU are, not who you are at Hiriam, or with a mohawk. I'm sure you are taking this the wrong way, hell, I would, but believe me, I'm only speaking in your best interest because I love the fuck out of you. You are a kind, sweet and amazing person and although I am extremely sad that I am losing you as a friend, I am even more devestated that you are losing who you are deep down. I love you and only want the best for you. Moosh.

That's all. I'm going to lay down and watch a movie. Horror of course, because it's October and that's all Ezra and I are watching the whole month.

Sigh.