eccothekitten's Journal

Hey live journal confuses the hell out of me
FUUCKKKKK I wrote out like a whole damn entry and then closed the page. Yes, I am teh awesome obviously. Lets try that AGAIN.

Livejournal confuses me.I'm not internet illiterate, I'm not technologically declined... it just makes no sense. There's no home page or "living room" from which all things sensible sprout. And I don't get how to join the FBC thing, even though I was told and for whatever reason forgot.. so. I am without. Help me!!!!! PLus a bunch of you have all those colors and plugs and format rearrangements *confusion*

Back in Boston finally. Back from TX. Fairly productive down there: got my teeth cleaned, my glasses fixed, and my hepatitus booster shot, even though I hate needles. And she totally made it worse, i told her about the phobia and so she was like

"ok look away, now breath in" precedes to drop syringe. Good jorb. Ok so, go get ANOTHER one... heart pounds..
"ok, now look away, breathe in, breathe out... ok, now breathe in.."
"JUST DO IT" jab. ow. And then your arm gets all weak and sore....
I overate like a starving hyena because my mom know I eat single cans of faux-pasta a day, so I was superfluously overfed. threw up a few times... not sure if it was the uberfoodage or the only other sickness-unrelated source - and no, I don't mean bulimia.
Bought some workshirts (and lacey underwear woo) and something Rocky-worthy.. something worth 230 dollars, that could make even Bill Murray a ravenous sex symbol...

Got to see my kids FINALLY. Though I had to move them to my dad's house, a change on which.. the receiving house members were divided. One was remotely contented, one was allergic, and one was.. well....
You see, my mother - a while back - married an airport of baggage and has recently evicted half of it; namely ladydeath, cpt. retard, and his crackbaby-son into their own apartment of depression and clutter.
So now all she has left is her rotund redneck hubby, which is all peachy by me, and his throwback asshole selfish failure of a son, which isn't. So now, the 6 bedroom two story house is more than neccessary so she's selling it, and that's why my lil meowballs needed relocation. Like I said, daddy's all kinds of copasetic but the step wifey, lemme tell she's fuckin THRILLED to have 2 litterboxes and hairy couches in her oh so proper house. But she did give me over $100 in cosmetic paraphrenalia, and a few facials and manicures so, I'll leave her superficial ass alone.
Um.. what else. Got a new hat. And I know my fashion updates are your daily epiphanies so don't even pretend that that statement's not the heaviest sentence in this.. umm. journal. But hey guess what, it's a cowboy hat. Now I just need some ripped up jeans and a really sexy/bizarre bandana. What else..

Flew in yesterday, a ride graciously provided by the tall lanky orange one. Went to my first preshow meeting hoorah! It was actually kind of fun, shocking, seeing as how most of my life I spent hating dancing, all forms of dancing. Even though my mom danced at disneyland for like.. 8 years, and performed with A Chorus Line, that broadway thingy, and taught her own dance classes until I was 13 or so. That's right I said what I said, I said Disneyland, her and my dad. He was Goofy. And she was tweedledum, and a cinderella dancer. Which means I've been to walt's humble (is it humble?) playground at least.... 30 times.
But yeh, snot so bad once you relinquish all bitterness from it being shoved down your throat for over a decade. I look forward to an honorable performance hopefully, consuming such a spotlight as halloween.

HEY LOOK. A REAL ENTRY. eat it up, you few minuscule observers. and smile.

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