She’s Got Everything To Gain ‘Cause She’s A Fat Girl With A Lisp

It takes three weeks to break a habit, and I think that is has been four and a half. I don’t want to go back to before, so I’m not sure what’s going to happen. It’s almost inevitable. Maybe not. I guess I’ll have to see what happens.I’m so confused about stuff, I think, and I don’t know what I think anymore. I liked knowing what I wanted, and I feel like I always have. I used to think that this is what I wanted.
It’s hard to deny the appealing contours that seem to be forming.

I got Tigermilk..or more accurately I got two copies of Tigermilk. My dad burnt me a copy, and sent it to me, and it finally arrived yesterday morning. When I went to work I was really early, though, so I thought that I’d finally embrace my lack of metal (mettle) and go into Utopia where I found another, but infinitely more authentic copy.
My dad is pretty nice. He found a picture of what the original disc looked like on the internet, and copied it onto the one he made for me. He’s such a nerd.

I don’t want to sound bad at all, especially not in the manner of Oedipus because…because, well, gross, but maybe I am more of a Daddy’s girl than I realised. Who doesn’t love a tall, lanky nerd, though?

I also got a copy of Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like A Peasant, because I thought that if I found them in one of the most Metal shops I have seen in Broadway I should probably buy all of the twee Scottish pop that was there. I much prefer Tigermilk, really, but I haven’t listened to it that much.

I don’t want to sound at all like I am planning on conforming to the ridiculously, perceivable pressure that really doesn’t mean anything at all, but I wish I was a brunette. I am not even kidding, but this isn’t such a novel thought. I am blonde because I was blonde, and I like being blonde, even if it has lowered my Intellectual Provocation & Stimulation quota, but whatever. I just wish sometimes that I had a nice natural hair colour, and nice dark brown that was forever shiny, forever stable, forever me. I tried it during my tumultuous adolescence, but the red highlights seeped into focus, and I just had gross hair. I wish I had a shiny mane, but I think that dark brown would require even more maintenance than my blondness. Which is a pity. Maybe when I revert from my Univerisity induced laziness I’ll reattempt it. Big Hels would die, really.
Why yes! I am entirely vain and obsessed with my hair! Is that okay? Does vanity count when you’re pretty sure you’re only making a front out of it so that the mirror doesn’t make you cry in the morning?

 Surprise! I have already given up on rerererereading Emma. I’m back to Catch-22, which is obviously the greatest book of all time. It makes me wish MASH was less, or didn’t get so disappointing. Pity.

I kind of went against all advice and caught up with someone a few days ago. It was okay. I mostly did it because I wanted to see how I would react, as well as them. It was really okay. It was kind of a relief, maybe. I’m not sure what I feel about that either, to be honest.

Sometimes, I think that I do things that I know are bad for me not because I think I’m invincible, but rather because I know I’m not, and I just like to test the waters.