...mostly dresses.
I broke a dress and couldn't fit into others. I didn't cry. Well, I didn't cry at the mall. I told myself no, and for some stupid reason, I listened. Maybe it was my sober voice of reaason. Instead of crying, I ate a whole pizza, plus chicken dumplings, smoked a cigarette, and crawled into bed feeling more than a little sorry for myself.
It's just one of those fat, lonely failure nights.
I just found out that one of my best friends from childhood got accepted to go to school in England. Bad food, worse weather, Mary Poppins, yeah, that England. It just sucks that everyone gets to move forward with their life and here I am, a size 14 (or 16, depending on the store and the dress), living at home with a two something GPA, no letters of rec, a long distance boyfriend, no steady paycheck after july, and an overwhelming need for outside validation.
At least I'm not pregnant.
Jesus H. Christ on ice and Mary in the peanalty box, I would kill a child if it meant someone would hug me and tell me it gets better and mean it.
Where's the celebrity campaign for that? I'm first in line.
Ugh. I'm grossing myself out with this pity party.
off to do something that will make me forget, or at least make my brain go shhhhh.
About Me
- Xlynn
- I live my life by song lyrics, have a chronic/terminal case of smartassitis and and currently taking medication to combat a particularly hearty strain of Don'tgiveafuck syndrome. I do the 22k in april to raise money for research. I appreciate your prayers. I'm also a sarcastic, habitual liar. ...sometimes. You will be my new best friend if you can tell me exactly what the fuck Paul Simon and Julio Were doing down by the schoolyard, the exact location of Carmen Sandiego, and the real words to "Blinded By The Lights" (revved up like a deuce, you know, a roller in the night?). I will date you if you can name 3 Green Day albums that aren't American Idiot. I'm a handful but my friends love me. good luck!
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