Mmmmm, marshmallow fluff...

It Hurts to Be This Sexy

2004-05-06 | 2:25 p.m.
So so eeeeemo

It's Marx's birthday, and I'm calling her the second I get home. How I love the friendables and the way they have special days requiring calls and love. This is a work call, even. Sexxxay.
Not so sex is the way that I still haven't finished revising. Blarg. I shall plod for the next few hours and do amazing amounts of work. It was supposed to happen last night, but I got a trillion phone calls instead--all worthwhile and fun and fabulous, but none of them like a written thesis.
One of them was from the person that Drag Crush will be playing with tonight. And me, stupid and jovial and supportive me, I was all stupid and jovial and supportive, telling her that everything would be fun and exciting and great. In fact, the whole of the conversation felt like me saying, "Of course you're nervous and excited. But you're going to have so much fun playing...yeah, you should take a nap, you won't get much rest tonight, har har!"
Meanwhile the stabbie elves were jumping around with their knife boots on in my heart.
I ended the night by listening to the Smiths, James, and Mirah. Hello, emo girl crying in the dark. You look like Gypsy, but you're just so emo that I can't even tell it's you. What about your dark, painful soul and it's hardcore angst?
I was two numbers away from calling and confessing my love to Drag Crush over the phone. I had to hang the phone up and walk away to keep from doing it.
And now it's thesis time. The sun is shining, the tank is clean. Let's call Marx and then rock our shoes down to the socks. Submit and Gloss tonight, sexy outfits. Nervous me. Early birthday spankings? Maybe. They're a good thing.
**Whiz Bang**

The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01
Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15
Where in the world? - 2005-01-14
Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04
quickly - 2004-11-21

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It Hurts to Be This Sexy
	2004-05-06 \| 2:25 p.m. So so eeeeemo
	It's Marx's birthday, and I'm calling her the second I get home. How I love the friendables and the way they have special days requiring calls and love. This is a work call, even. Sexxxay. Not so sex is the way that I still haven't finished revising. Blarg. I shall plod for the next few hours and do amazing amounts of work. It was supposed to happen last night, but I got a trillion phone calls instead--all worthwhile and fun and fabulous, but none of them like a written thesis. One of them was from the person that Drag Crush will be playing with tonight. And me, stupid and jovial and supportive me, I was all stupid and jovial and supportive, telling her that everything would be fun and exciting and great. In fact, the whole of the conversation felt like me saying, "Of course you're nervous and excited. But you're going to have so much fun playing...yeah, you should take a nap, you won't get much rest tonight, har har!" Meanwhile the stabbie elves were jumping around with their knife boots on in my heart. I ended the night by listening to the Smiths, James, and Mirah. Hello, emo girl crying in the dark. You look like Gypsy, but you're just so emo that I can't even tell it's you. What about your dark, painful soul and it's hardcore angst? I was two numbers away from calling and confessing my love to Drag Crush over the phone. I had to hang the phone up and walk away to keep from doing it. And now it's thesis time. The sun is shining, the tank is clean. Let's call Marx and then rock our shoes down to the socks. Submit and Gloss tonight, sexy outfits. Nervous me. Early birthday spankings? Maybe. They're a good thing. Whiz Bang The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01 Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15 Where in the world? - 2005-01-14 Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04 quickly - 2004-11-21 <-- - -->	Last Next Newest Older Rings Pictures Links Profile Guestbook Email me Notes Diaryland Hate is Great