phthalombrage | (no subject)

Your Birthdate: July 28

You have a Type A personality so big it makes other Type A's shrink away in shame.

You never shy away from adversity - and you love to tackle impossible problems.

Failure is not an option for you, and more than a few people are put off by your ego.

You tend to be controlling, and you hate leaving anything up to chance.

Your strength: Your bold approach to life

Your weakness: You don't accept help

Your power color: Bronze

Your power symbol: Pyramid

Your power month: October

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Shrink away in SHAME.
Only thing is, people with huge egos usually think highly of themselves.

Last night the sky was a warm grey colour.
Melody called me from Epcot, which was so cool.
My cat hung out with me for a bit. She was warm.
Across town, Paul skipped on the beach and watched the tide come in. It was also warm.
But the air was cool.
It was a strange evening/morning.

I need to buy stamps for my dad tomorrow.
And gas for my car.
And lend my car to my dad to teach my brother how to drive.
And work.
And pay the library fines and check out new books.
Or temporarily avoid that and go to B/N.
And form an ulcer.
Yes, that is what I shall do.

Why do I NOT feel busy?

My dad illegally replaced our windows without our neighbors noticing.
You need permits for such retarded things.

My uncle's friend/ acquaintance is coming back to build a closet for my mom, who hates him. My dad's just like hey, he's helping ME for less than minimum wage and you get a closet that doesn't have a bathroom leaking into it. Anyway, my mom HATES it when people come inside our house, except when it's Lisa's children, who are allowed into all areas of the house, even my room, which is pretty much no-man's land. (My dad's been it it a lot lately, though, poking around, throwing out trash, and maintaining some kind of laundry equilibrium.) She has an awful scribble Chloe did in thin, bland, boring pencil stuck to the new refrigerator, under an annoying soccer-mom-ish magnet that boasts "Look What My Kid Did!" (Also the reason why my brother wishes our toilet was magnetic.) Meanwhile the old refrigerator is still wasting electricity, filled with crap, obstructing everyone's path in the middle of the kitchen. According to her, other people have to eat crackers all the time, so we NEED all that mayonnaise and four jars of peanut butter and Halloween candy from three years ago and all that other fun stuff.
This morning I stepped in the cat's water dish and spilled its contents everywhere trying to turn on the light. The switch is conveniently located on the wall of a dark, two-inch wide chasm formed by the old refrigerator and, well, the wall. The new switchplate with sculpted stupid cats on it forces me to grope awkwardly for extended periods of time just to locate the light switch, much less flip it.

All for the ever-so-noble pursuit of cheating on taxes and screening our neighbours.

As for me, I'm not making any progress these past few days.
Plus, there's so much I need to fix...

The heel of my hand fits so neatly into the space between my eyebrows just above the bridge of my nose.
My spine cracks as I sit up. w00t.
Blue veins run quite vividly just under the skin of my wrists, but I'm not in the mood for a stroll down the road with them. Yet.

For there's music rolling around in my head. Aretha Franklin, Benjamin Britten, Tori Amos, Shakira, and Gershwin, hahahaha.

Again, I know I need to make some art, but I don't want to. Not fully sure why, like I want to stop breathing and pretend it was a mistake. I kind of know why, but I'm really uncomfortable thinking about it. I wish Lauer would shove off, sometimes. I can piece it all back together in the end.

It's incredible how much I don't care about Christmas.