i really really love the 90s

written at 11:11 p.m. on 07.16.04

SO... I'm really in a bizarre state of mind, which is becoming the norm for this time of night. My dad just blew a gasket for no reason, my mom is whining about shopping after watching two episodes of What Not to Wear, and I'm just sitting here in my room, typing away on the trusty old (but new) laptop, wishing I was anywhere but here.

Having probably officially screwed myself over in the last entry, which I wrote to the few friends who are still willing to associate with me, I'm feeling pretty craptacular. Really, the only other word to describe properly how I'm feeling is s***ty. No joke. I feel like some demonic version of myself has taken control of my life and is focusing 100% on attempting to ruin me forever. Honestly, I'm going to a college I'm not sure I'll like, in a state which is so obsessed with itself and country music that it's nauseating, and I'll be leaving behind a bunch of pissed off people with death threats in their hands.

I hope to someday look back on this and think, "Boy, I was a freakin idiot!! Soo overdramatic. It was one bad summer. Three horrible months. So what?! Get over it, loser!"

I guess I'm depressed. I'm also dreading work tomorrow. Have I mentioned how much I HATE working on Saturdays? I loathe the experience. I spend every Friday night with my face all contorted in agony. I dread the events of Saturday more than anything else except possibly using the phone to call angry people.

Oh, and I've worked every Saturday for like five months now, even though I keep saying I don't want to work Saturdays. Ever. Again.

Hey, to add to the crappiness factor, I'm super behind in everything all of a sudden. I feel like I'm miles behind where I should be at this point, but nobody's compensating and giving me 30 hour days. Nope, the same old 24-hour thing seems to be pretty popular. I've got laundry piled up and packing to do and shopping for a wardrobe for a completely different climate.. You know, writing about it is only making me feel worse.

What cures my depression?! Making fun of other people. Let's start with Corey Feldman. Yeah. I watched an entire season of the Surreal Life the other night. I was fascinated with how annoying one person could be. How he snagged a wife is beyond me. Harsh, I know, but I'm too sulky to care. Oh right, and he's a stinking pansy. "Eh, she was like, eh, being, eh, negative to me, and, eh, now I'm ::sniff:: going to cry in a very womanly way.. Eh." My gosh! I am tougher than Corey Feldman. Yes, me, the girl who cries at most every movie or TV show! At least I can handle a joke!! My gosh.

Alright, now I'm feeling much happier. A bit more immature, but that's not the issue at hand right now. Now it's time for me to quit typing and spend the rest of the night watching all the episodes of I Love the 90's that I taped tonight!!! I have almost six hours of show waiting for me!! Furbies and Beanie Babies and Hanson and all that stuff that I already watched, here I come again!!

In all seriousness, no other show has had such an incredible effect on my happiness as that series. I laugh non-stop through every minute. I can quote almost any commercial on VH1, and I have fallen in love with several male celebrities featured on the show. I want them to come to my house and entertain me for free, all day long, for the rest of eternity. They can come to college with me and be my roommates. Suitemates, actually, since my room is apartment style! Whoop whoop!

Yar. I need to end this entry. It sucks major arse. I'm not being myself, and I sound like a retard. So much for the "I'll just quickly spit out an entry to cover up that last entry" crap. Nuh-uh. Not workin today. Like I said, I'm possessed, I'm not myself, and I still feel like crap. So, back to VH1, my summer drug. Yay! The end.