Just Felt Like Talking

I wasn’t going to write tonight. Especially after the Cannonball Read review. However I just felt like talking and that review was really hard to write. Usually I don’t struggle with anything having to do with writing (except writing a fucking novel) so that kind of bothered me a bit. Then again its not a typical novel so that can explain the frustration.

I’m watching Signs. Don’t ask. I was in the mood to watch something and couldn’t figure out what I wanted to watch. As I stared at my movies I realized I hadn’t watched it in a really long time. Now that I’m watching it seeing Abigail Breslin in this and then Zombieland is pretty fucking weird.

I’ve been getting drunk. Like drunk drunk, like not remembering shit of what happened, for the past three days. I’m not drinking tonight though. The way its looking I won’t be drinking tomorrow night or Saturday either. Although I have a feeling I’ll likely drink one of those days. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t drink for several days in a row. Which also has me wondering when I’m going to be drinking in Seattle. I leave on Sunday.

WooHoo! Two more days of work and I’m out of this fucking state. Two more days of work and I’m out for an entire week bitches.

The sound on my phone suddenly stopped working last night. I have no idea why. Seeing as how it is also my alarm clock this is going to be interesting. Hopefully my wind up alarm clock that is older then me will manage to wake me up.

I also have a real journal. I’ve been neglecting to write in it. This saddens me at times and then I realize why I’m not. When I had my blog on Myspace I needed my journal. I needed it because I couldn’t say half the shit I wanted to say in that blog without having a shit storm of people in my face. I can say anything I want on this. Because with the exception of like two people no one in my “real” life know about this blog. The reason why they know is because they live away and don’t have the same friends as me. I also at one point had the thought that if I was to become famous they could publish my journals after I die. Why not huh? My Journal could also be a conquest book too I suppose. I have pictures of all my x’s in it. Nothing too bad. Ok…maybe a couple of them are bad=good. Yeah…fuck it…I thought I had deleted all the pictures and then realized I had a copy of the one I mentioned. You’re going to get that one.



Night all…