whining

So I'm back-to-school shopping with my little sister, the one I like to call Rikku, and my stepsister who I refer to as Lulu. Most of the pants Rikku tries on don't fit, she complains, stepping outside the dressing room in another ill-chosen garment. Either the legs are too short or the waist too big. Because she's four foot eight and seventy three pounds. God I wish I had her problem... :P

On an entirely different note, thanks for all the supportive notes while I was spazzing this week. You've no idea how much they meant to me. :) *hugs*

lifting dana's quizzes again

( as found in nickigirl02's lj )

it's totaled.

It was barely scratched except for the fsking airbag, but evidently that's totaled. Not only does this mean I won't even have the tattered remains of a once plump savings account, it means it absolutely must go through insurance channels, upping my dad's insurance, and that I should have filled out the accident report as of three days ago...

... have I mentioned lately I hate myself? 'Cause I do.

building a better defense

the best poetry is grandly offensive.
it doesn't push little buttons for a cheap giggle
it doesn't sob in the quiet of a hidden diary
it isn't content with just one little meaning
and it never wanted to leave you saying 'huh?'
-- but 'ohhhhhhh' --
it won't apologize for itself in ambiguity,
yet it will never take the obvious road to invade your core.
petty four letter words are not enough for it
it bites like a needle in crisp short sentences
bludgeons with obscure references and strings of syllables
leaving spectacular craters in your soul
and best of all slices neatly
so that you won't realize you're broken
till the very
last
line.

---

_{I felt I needed to write this. *shrugs* It's a perspective. And yes, I do realize the itty-bitty hypocrisy in the third line. Then again, this isn't quite *hidden*...}