My roommate just walked back in with a male!

*!!!GASPHORRORGASP!!!*

He's cute. And short. And gone. *sigh*

And I'm louging around in a camisole and pajama pants with an apple stem in my mouth. D'oi. *snickersncikersnicker* Tina has been drinking...and I am severely amused. Lots of people have guys over right now; I could hear them, were I not wearing my headphones. People are more annoying than geese.

I realized a little while ago that at quarter to six, after having been awake since 8, that's 22 hours, and not twenty. My higher math functions do not function well when I'm being spastic that early in the morning.

Apparently Seph does not like the V8s; he refuses to play the CD, and Demons now skips which blows monkeys. I love that song- I think the V8s do a much better job than Guster, honestly...but then, I just love a capella.

Still no writing. Don't know why I'm avoiding it; I really wish my menstrual cycle would quit dicking around and just let me bleed already. All this waiting is pissing me off, and I've been on edge for nearly two weeks. Not happy about this. Not happy at all.

It may seem like that sentence divided by that semicolon has a complete non-sequitur contained within it, but it doesn't. My creativity is directly influenced by my hormones, and I really can't get much done when I'm just sitting around waiting for my period. I should do some reading if I'm not going to write, but...

I have replaced my default lj icon again, but it doesn't require an announcement in lj...it amuses me, though, and is certainly appropriate. The Suck Club is more for people who just write crap, not for people who suck in general- or for people who suck in particular.

The tea is sitting on the bookcase, whispering evil things at me. This morning was fun, in its twisted and exhausted way- and the sky is lovely from the window seat. I did eventually fall asleep on the window seat, some time after six. I woke up a bit after eight and moved to the bed; I'd developed a crick in the neck.

Guh. The cover the V8s do of Hangin' Around is delicious like pie, and I still have a hard time attaching that girl's voice to the way she looks...I hate the way Counting Crows does the song, with the naked sounding drums- but I actually like it, now. *shrug*

Alas, the beautiful people. Alas, alas, alas.

I feel like dancing, but I won't. I feel far too tightly wound, and on some level, I enjoy it. On most levels, I just want to shred something, unfortunately...and my nails are hardly strong enough to manage that.

I am the Buddha
I know something you don't know
But I'm not telling

Learning is not words
But the spaces between them
Lo, Behold! Silence.

*sigh* Not quite five-page paper material...

But I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day...

Perhaps I just need to listen to Duncan Sheik, and cry for a while. Don't think I can, but it might help.
Jesus. It's like there's a wire running between my shoulders and my ears, stretched tight and ready to snap, but it won't. I hate this- I'm in such a strange mood right now.

Aiaiaiah...I need to write, or draw at the very least. Something. Anything.