no, they don't know who I really am, and they don't know what I've been through like you do

I will start writing again.

I will, I will.

The Story - Brandi Carlile

for those who still can recall the desperate colors of fall

I really can't stand summer anymore. I'm sick of wearing my hair up, sick tank tops, sick of having to keep the A/C on, I'm sick of summer. I want the colors that come with fall, I want cool nights and light jackets and all of the kids to go back to school.

I want to carve a pumpkin for Halloween, 'cause I haven't done it in a million years. I want my birthday to be here in September so people will give me things for no reason. I want a giant cookie cake from the mall with tons of icing, I want free drinks at the bar, and I want to wear leggings.

Please summer, go away so we can have new episodes of all of our favorite shows. So I won't have to work at this stupid theme park anymore and so I can get my hair cut.

So there. :(

The Sword & the Pen by Regina Spektor

monster, how should I feel?

Raise your hand if you've ever looked at your life and thought, "is this it?"

I feel so pathetic. I see people from high school that I used to know, and I'm wearing khakis. People ask me at work all of the time if I'm in college. Like, guests. People I've never met before. And I'm like, "not right now, I can't afford it." I should start lying and be like, "Yeah." That's all.

Yeah. I'm in college, damn it.

Only I'm not. 'Cause I'm a poor bitch who works two jobs dealing with the public. The public fucking sucks. People are dicks and they piss me off. :(

I need to get back to writing. I started. Sort of. It's either this chair's not comfortable enough, or the keyboard's in an awkward position on this desk... I do need to get a computer desk that was made after computers were invented. This desk was my grandmother's and it is the worst computer desk. Ever.

okay, well, I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open: bed time! Night.

Monster by Meg & Dia

I don't need you physically around

I'm pretty sure that I'm probably a bad person for doing something that I'm about to do.

I got on AIM for the first time in a million years last night, and who should come a callin' but Mojito.

I met this guy last year, back in November. He talked to me online, and we ended up meeting up and had mojitos and drunk sex. I found out not long after that he had a girlfriend, but he told me that she was a crazy bitch. I didn't really mind, because I'm really not interested in dating at this point.

So we hooked up a couple of extra times. A friend of mine is best friends with his girlfriend, which is how he admitted that he had a girlfriend. I mentioned this friend and he was like, "wait a minute, what's her last name?" So yeah. Small world? It was pretty insane.

Then this said friend mentioned that her friend was getting married.

huhwtf? So he confirmed it. And I was like, that's the end of that, 'cause that's not a crazy bitch girlfriend, that's a fucking fiance that he lied about.

Well, he and I haven't spoken since January. He messaged me last night and basically it was like, "aren't you married now?" "lol, fuck no." "oh" *more talking* "lol, wanna hook up?" :/

He's coming over tonight. And I'm unaffected by this. I know that he only IMed me to hook up, and I really don't care. I'm not into all of this girlfriend/boyfriend drama shit, I'm really only into enjoying being twenty-one. So if some guy who I had pretty decent sex wants to hook up, I'm probably gonna take it.

So that's that. I'm probably a bad person, but this is the part where I don't care. Well, I apparently care enough to make a blog about it, but um... rawr.

Voice on Tape - Jenny Owen Youngs

well, I think she's a bitch.

I knew that working six days a week for the entire summer was going to be difficult. I knew that working at that theme park and that working at Target and working around sixty hours a week was going to be tough.

But shit son.

I'm so over this.

I thought that I'd be able to have something to blog about. Things to talk about, people to make fun of, rants to get out, but I'm so exhausted and tired of the general public that writing about it is the furthest thing from my mind. So I'll leave you with this:

Three weeks until I get partial social life back.

I'm getting so drunk.

Do-Wah-Doo - Kate Nash