Glitter pens and chalkboard dust.

L.T.= "Luck be a Lady Tonight" by Frank Sinatra


Back to school, tomorrow. Dread, dread, dread. School is hell. It's a prison; an excuse to get rid of your children for nine hours and then fake your happiness when they arrive home. Yeah, I"m not to happy with the idea of school right now. So, let's cut the crap and start talking about something else.

I don't know what else to talk about. Well, Happy Belated New Year, I suppose.

2006. Hurray. Another year of my life that I can't remember doing anything with. If you're in the same boat, could you please put a hole in it so we can sink and drown. Thanks.

I don't have any New Year's resolutions. I haven't told myself, "This is the year to..." blah blah blah, and some more bullshit I won't do.

This is going to be the year that I'm stressed out, that I realize I am who I'm not, that I take everything for granted, and that I fall down some stairs ten or twelve times.

If that's my New Year's resolution, to make all of that come true, I'd be a successful person.

More successful then you. You and your, "I'll find a husband," or "I'll stop lying about my age," or "I'll get a job and make something of myself."

Yeah? Is that so? Well, you better get cracking. You've already wasted most of your time.

Currently Feeling: Tempermental

The Word of the Day: Cellphone