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I had a boyfriend. I cheated on him. And now I have a new boyfriend. The end.
This might, very well, be one of my last entries. I've finally found a good offline journal, to which I can be committed. So... yeah. I've been busy.
I never know what to say to my grandma. She's so... judgmental. She wants me to be the way I was when I was young and I find it very difficult to be that way; funny and outgoing and enthusiastic. It's not that I'm not a happy person, but she wants me to be... miniature. A kid, I guess, is what I'm trying to say.
I've also decided to switch toothpastes. Because the one I'm using makes my mouth feel like it's on fire. A good reason to switch, I'd say.
You know what my problem is? I never sleep. Never. I never sleep.
Oh, wonderful! Magsy got me a most beautiful present for Christmas- a lovely vintage, glass figurine. She said it was made in the Great Depression, when glass was very scarce. In return, I got her a very darling pair of high-heeled shoes. Ah, bliss in the snow. I will never be unhappy again.
So tomorrow's the very first day of Hanukkah and I could not feel more solemn. Honestly, can my mother make it anymore obvious that she hates this holiday?
But, besides that...
I haven't done any shopping!
And now I keep thinking about all the kids that made fun of me in primary school and then on in secondary. I hate thinking they're watching me, but... my mind thinks that's exactly what they're doing and I believe anything my mind tells me.
Tsk, tsk. And to think that tomorrow's Hanukkah. It’s disgusting, really. It really is.
Mum bought cherries!
I've gone and gotten a real job. At a sandwich restaurant. Exciting really. I passed out on the first day there. I'm not kidding. They thought I was a totally useless employee. But I've proven to be less than completely incompetent. Which is good. I guess.
Anyway, Magsy and I have been busy. Magsy's convinced she absolutely has to get a boy into her knickers before 2007. I, however, am convinced I don't really care.
In other news, I'm becoming addicted to cigarettes. And it's about time. I've only been smoking since I was fourteen. Honestly.
Did I mention I bought a little flower from a homeless person. It wasn't out of charity... because... as it happens... my family is becoming a charity case, but rather because I like lilies. And that's what it was. A precious lily-white lily. Okay. And maybe I partially did it because it gave me the chance to pretend I was Sara Crew from "a Little Princess". But who doesn't like lilies? I like lilies. I also am quite partial to alliteration. But that's just me trying to be random, and thus, trying to be cool.
Anyway, I've been horny lately. Lots of jerkiness and sentimental battery-testing. Good times.
It's a sweet, December night.
You know something? I'm a bad person.
Well, I finally realised why Schindler's List always seemed like an empty movie to me. You see, I had a bit of a mix-up and got the DVD with the B-side up and, thus, never realized I'd only seen the last quarter of the movie. Now I understand it's magic.
I'm not a realist. In fact, I’m quite opposite of one. On IMDb, I read a lot of things about the movie and gathered new perspectives. Apparently, according to several people, this is not a realistic account. Of Schindler', that is. But I take no heed. I'm in love.
But see, the thing is about me, although I'm swayed easily and hurt when even nudged, I couldn't find this movie depressing. As immoral as it was, immorality towards people like me, I had not a shed of sadness.
I've also seen the Devil's Arithmetic. I cried during that, anyway, when Rifka's mother was taken away from the bunker to the gas (of course, one has to assume that's where she's taken). Meh.
Anyway, I think I didn't react "correctly" to Schindler's List because I was too distracted by my desires. I would do anything just to convince the world that Amon Goeth and Oscar Schindler were flirting.
But that's because I’m a retard.
So there you go.
I'm totally stressed. My family's totally broke, my father keeps whining to me about how my mum won't give him any sex, not to mention he keeps playing the piano, which he isn't very good at, and I can't find my copy of A Little Princess.
But, I have a fandom.
Rumble Fish.
It makes me feel warm inside.