Fuck this lab report. No seriously. Fuck. This. Lab. Report. While you're at it, fuck my fantastic skill for procrastination coupled with my tendency to panic, and my susceptibility to my bad thoughts, and uh, my impending exams and my inherent tendency to stick my head in the sand and act like it'll all go away if I find that matching Havaiana at the Red Cross Shop. Which I didn't, because life is cruel. Sure, they were obnoxiously frosty pink, but they were nearly NEW, and my goddamn SIZE, and I've been wanting those stupid comfortable jandals for YEARS, shit goddamn.

Oh, and again, FUCK MY LAB REPORT. You wouldn't think I was this angsty if you saw me right now, which I hope you aren't, because I had a shower and am still topless because I hate that my hair soaks the shoulders and back of whatever I put on anyway. I'm listening to the twee soundtrack of that incredibly twee movie 500 Days of Summer which I'm sure everyone is going to ~love and not let me love in peace.

This is what elitism springs from, the inability of some people to just love things quietly. Like, it is KILLING me right now that everyone is going nuts over that 'Tic Toc' song by Ke$ha when I have been loving it deeply, passionately, making AURAL LOVE TO IT, for MONTHS. I knew that song when it was called 'P. Diddy' and all anyone knew about Kesha was that she was a white girl that everyone got confused with the black one. Anyway, if you could follow that, you will understand that it is naturally annoying when something you have created this connection with starts getting every other idiot's smeared fingerprints over it. It's why I never share my sad songs, because I'm FUCKED, FUCKED I TELL YE, if some tool gets their hands on the songs that tug on my heart strings & press all my weepy buttons and puts it on that douche Drew Neemia's show, I WILL GO OUT THERE WITH AN UZI AND I WILL GET MY REVENGE. If you haven't figured out by now that I am a girl with her dad's inordinately volatile temper and her mother's inherent psychosis, you are ridiculously silly. And will also be first against the wall when the revolucion arrives, compadres, because I do not tolerate the silly and stupid. Anyway. If you find something glorious and good and heartwarming, share it only with those who will hold it as close and in as high regard as you do, otherwise you will end up sobbing over its carcass after everyone has trampled it with their huge feet of non-understanding.

Also, my obsession with paper dolls underwent a resurgence at about 1am a couple of weeks ago, and now I get regular emails, all in Japanese, from some paper doll site I apparently signed up to. I almost wish I could say I didn't remember doing it and palm it off on my alter-ego.

Today was a fuckatron of a day, friends. I woke up, sat around trying to work up the motivation to do this damned report, and got a text at 11am informing me that I was currently 20 minutes away from my last undergrad lecture (barring med, i know, i know) and spent the NEXT twenty minutes gapping to said lecture, to find out FIVE METRES FROM THE PLACE from my new bestie arthur that said lecture was over. Rage ensued, not in the least because I realized that I'd left my laptop charger at Shaun's and would have to go back for it, and my sweater dress was most emphatically meant to be a sweater with PANTS ATTACHED, and it was also too hot.

It perked up most decidedly when I scored a gorge Supre coat & a H&M dress for $12 all up. Pics soon.