tea berry-blue

Some of you, I am certain, like to have fun on your birthdays (or in this case, the day before your birthday). If that is the case, I would encourage you to go to a more cheerful website, such as this one, or, perhaps, to a site featuring fluffy kitties and now and then bunnies, such as this. Under no uncertain circumstances, and especially if you are liret, should you ever look beneath the cut, for that way lies doom and destruction and you will be very, very sorry. After having seen the contents of this lj-cut, I could not sleep for weeks due to the morose and moribund nightmares.

( birthday, which in this case means a day on which you mark the anniversary of your miserable and doleful existence )

For Christmas, my cousin, Eliza, among other things, got me a body spray called "Miso Pretty."





Aside from the obvious offensiveness, and the fact that it was made in the USA with fake Engrish on the bottle, I tried it tonight and was saddened to discover that it did, in fact, smell like peony scent and not delicious, salty, fermented soy.

It is disappointing. I thought I would be tasty. Instead, I smell like flowers.

Also, if you are at all familiar with New York City tenement houses, you will know about the anguish that is the middle of winter. Yes, it's the time of year when, to avoid lawsuits from letting old people freeze to death, the landlord has decided to pump up the heat so much that the inside temperature in my apartment is 82 degrees Fahrenheit.

I turned on the air conditioner in my bedroom to try to get it down to something in the 70s because last night it was so hot I couldn't sleep even without any covers.

I would also like to let you all in on a little secret. liret sometimes comes to visit me. That is not the secret part. Every time she comes, she inevitably leaves something behind. She has left everything from her shoes to her computer cable in the past. But most frequently she leaves clothes. Sometimes, they are very nice clothes. This time, she left a blue, long-sleeved, ribbed shirt. This is not the secret, either.

The secret is that someday, I will start wearing these clothes, because some of them are very nice clothes.

But for now, I will save them for her inevitable return, like Christ's inevitable resurrection. I mean, how much would it have sucked if Jesus had come back and Mary had been like, shit, sorry, I threw out your jalapeño boxers?

I've decided I think I am going to try to record more sort of train-of-thoughty type stuff. Sometimes I am like, ooh, that would be fun to write about, but then I think maybe no one would really want to read it. But I think I learned that it is more important to write what I would like to write about than to worry about what other people want to read about. I think it's bad when people's journals get to be things that they are writing to please the people reading them. The only thing now is remembering what I would like to say! I think that in the end, years from now, I will be happier to see these recorded thoughts than I would if I look back and only see memes or something.

For Christmas, my cousin, Eliza, among other things, got me a body spray called "Miso Pretty."





Aside from the obvious offensiveness, and the fact that it was made in the USA with fake Engrish on the bottle, I tried it tonight and was saddened to discover that it did, in fact, smell like peony scent and not delicious, salty, fermented soy.

It is disappointing. I thought I would be tasty. Instead, I smell like flowers.

Also, if you are at all familiar with New York City tenement houses, you will know about the anguish that is the middle of winter. Yes, it's the time of year when, to avoid lawsuits from letting old people freeze to death, the landlord has decided to pump up the heat so much that the inside temperature in my apartment is 82 degrees Fahrenheit.

I turned on the air conditioner in my bedroom to try to get it down to something in the 70s because last night it was so hot I couldn't sleep even without any covers.

I would also like to let you all in on a little secret. liret sometimes comes to visit me. That is not the secret part. Every time she comes, she inevitably leaves something behind. She has left everything from her shoes to her computer cable in the past. But most frequently she leaves clothes. Sometimes, they are very nice clothes. This time, she left a blue, long-sleeved, ribbed shirt. This is not the secret, either.

The secret is that someday, I will start wearing these clothes, because some of them are very nice clothes.

But for now, I will save them for her inevitable return, like Christ's inevitable resurrection. I mean, how much would it have sucked if Jesus had come back and Mary had been like, shit, sorry, I threw out your jalapeño boxers?

I've decided I think I am going to try to record more sort of train-of-thoughty type stuff. Sometimes I am like, ooh, that would be fun to write about, but then I think maybe no one would really want to read it. But I think I learned that it is more important to write what I would like to write about than to worry about what other people want to read about. I think it's bad when people's journals get to be things that they are writing to please the people reading them. The only thing now is remembering what I would like to say! I think that in the end, years from now, I will be happier to see these recorded thoughts than I would if I look back and only see memes or something.