space-oddity's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the third week of february. hello, athens. so i'm updating on a sunday night, yet again. i think it was last sunday when i sat with the fancy laptop and typed an entry, and here i am. again. again after robinella. a g a i n. i type things, and then i read over them and think, "what a weird thing to type," so i go over them with a cursor and delete them. if only i could be so free-flowing and never-minding. i've been thinking of starting another paper diary/journal. at least then i'd feel compelled to actually keep my words... and not to delete them out of embarrassment, etc. because no one else would read them. well, except for my children after i'm dead and gone, but who cares? ... i wouldn't care if i were in my death bed. go ahead. read it all. i'll tell you my secrets when i'm on my death bed. but i'll be damn sure i'm about to die. otherwise, forget about it. again. i keep on typing and deleting. bah. my fingernails are too long. so long they get in the way of my typing. i can't stand that. tomorrow i will probably get nervous at work and bite them all off, collecting the little pieces and dumping them in the trash bin. i was thinking about that the other day, and i thought of li(s)a questioning all of the nail-biters out there and posing the question... just what do they all do with their old fingernails? i think most people secretly bite them up into tiny pieces. pieces so small that they resemble sand.. and then they swallow them. yes. there's this burning smell that comes from biting them. during one nervous biting frenzy. i used to pride myself in being an individual. actually, i considered being "weird" a compliment. i don't feel that way anymore. i don't really think it's conforming. i just think it's becoming comfortable. i'm much more normal than i ever thought i was. who was i ever kidding? the weather girl on news channel ten must have short arms. either that, or her suits are just too fucking big. the sleeves on her power suits are too long. half of the time they are either rolled up or squished around her elbows. this bothers me. it shouldn't. i've been walking around lately, staring at people. i think, "these people have sex. that guy over there with the cheesy mustache and the high-top reeboks has sex.... they're all having sex." it's really shocking. or maybe refreshing. i dunno which. they all have sex. like bea arthur. she had sex. and she liked it. what's wrong with me?
11:27 pm - 02.22.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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