THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
My parents are in the other room talking about me and St. Joseph's (St. Lesbian's). they made me leave.
I can't go there.
I just can't.
Today I was talking to Amanda about it. She officially invited me to go over to her house when all her goth/punker posse because I would fit in. I think that was a comliment. Because I like Amanda a lot and think her brothers are very cool...But still. I think its awesome she thinks that I'd be okay there. They don't even like her best friend. Hmmm.
Anyway.
I came here with something deeply profound to talk about.
But I forgot what it was.
You will be very thankful, I'm sure.
I think my dad is talking to the laudnry.
Oh, no.
He is talking to my mom about the laundry.
Well, that's better.
But who the hell talks about laundry??
...I need something to do. I am watching law and order and listening to my parents talk about the fucking laundry. My life is very full.
But I need to stop complaing. I am going to New York on Friday for the first time in my life and I am going to be as happy as possible because I won't be here and that's as good as it gets.
I want coffee.
But I do get to go to our now weekly Starbucks meeting with Amanda and Rhiannon and Anahid. I know I'll miss that. I know it. I have ANOTHER King Lear rehersal on Friday. They are fun. But mostly, I think, because I get frappachinos and get to be with five-no. Four people whose company I value greatly.
But i am kind of freaking out here. My mom e-mailed Mrs. Barryte, drama teacher, telling her that I can't go to Damn Yankees rehersal on Friday because of the DC trip. That puts my part in jeopardy. At least Amanda would get the rest of the part if I lost it.
Sorry. I'm kind of babbling.
I know I must be very uninteresting unless I am bitching about something.
I'll try harder next time.