what should i really be doing?

cause it isn't about money. why do i think with the wrong side of my brain? i was chasing down some tax forms downtown today around 3pm and all the people walking around with folders and papers and going places and looking sad and i wanted to drop a billion feathers out of the window of a tall building or something to make these people forget about paying their mortgages or just looking up because the sky was blue and i wanted to draw it.
and i don't want to feel sad when it is finally getting nice out. i just want someone to buy me a billboard. i really wanted one in november when the city got gray for the winter, so there could be a dash of color in the sky against the drab downtown.

he's leaving for real in just a few days and i know i'll never get to say goodbye cause i didn't get to say it the last time.

you really insulted me and you underestimate me. i'm just figuring things out and i had more class then to just leave you there even though every bone in my body told me to run cause in fight or flight i usually flee.

and you, please make up your mind cause your indecisions make my heart hurt. i have feelings too.

oh, just putting it out into the universe, and (as always) when that doesn't work, the internet

haha. ha. hahahha.

oh the boys with the phallic names as if that wasn't any indication.

and by the way, i might not have a real job, but i make money. and i love what i do. i love the freedom that once i do figure out what my "real" job is supposed to be i can simply walk away. so there. i love my lifestyle, i love working the opposite hours of the day. i love interacting with people. i love being outside during the daylight.

as for texting, well isn't the pot (and i do mean pot) calling the kettle black.

ah yes. thank you innertown for treating me like a local celebrity...was fun last night

its always almost too good to be true!

WHOLLY SHIET i found an apartment. for me! and ME ONLY of course, with the gatos...our own little home. with free laundry. now if only i had credit...gonna try and write a check for last months rent NOW. it is so perfect and tiny. and hopefully mine. gah.

bah

work was good tho... mo money, mo problems...and i had a good time last night ;)
ah, cheers. chicago. summer is upon us.

you are a big fat jerk

me and all these boys with phallic names or near phallic ones...ha. should start naming them cucumbers...

YOU ARE A BIG FAT JERK and you will never read this but i think you are a fuckin asshole and i can't believe you have done it again.

there, put it into the universe. and when that doesn't work, the internet.
cheers

nikki

hohum

what the fawk. not really. everything pretty much feels the same as it always was...ha.

oh yes, thank gawd. all i'm saying. catastrophe averted. phew.

who needs a wheatgrass shot?
this girl.

holy wheatgrass shot

well, here we are. i finally got myself a computer that almost. works. at least it connects to the internet. and once i find someone more savvy with macs, hopefully the cd drive will work too...
this is what i want to say to YOU! You know who you are. you can't just call me and tell me to come over. you are the one that told me we don't have that much in common. i heard you. and now i keep my distance. you didn't even make it to my birthday. or my art show.

happy fricken birthday to meeee

hawt damn, i'm 25. i don't feel any different. lets recap 24.
no job, ambulance ride, no job, sobriety, grad school rejection, beer mug of box wine, employment, nine months of babysitting drunks, additional er visit, meeting the best boy ever only to have him get engaged less than 5 months we stop hanging. ruining the thing after with the best boy (a better boy) cause emotions suck. unemployment, freak out, running, lots of running, falling, falling down, er again. feeling the infinite potential of the universe. getting that talk(again). pretending to be ok with it. crying to Interpol. lights out.

bah. fml.