BOO!
That's my new word when I am annoyed, BOO.
It seems to cover everything. I've stopped just short of Booing and hissing, like if the villain had found it's way into my play. =(
Marshal is in the hospital. I adore Marshal, as he was one of the kids I ended up in the homeless shelter with. One of the kids who came with me when I tried to go and get my stuff from my mom's house. Marshal watched everything that happened, and then we rode the bus to some weird tree house in the Amazon area where Marshal had vodka that I could drink. Anything to block out the horribleness that occurred when I tried to pick up my things that day.
He's still my friend, and it amazes me. I didn't really think that anyone who saw that side of my life would be able to be friends with me. At least that fighting-argumentative side of my relationship with my mother.
I love it when I do see him, he was one of the few people who made it to my birthday non-party. And I loved seeing him.
I hate and love MySpace. It's so easy to transmit information about yourself via the internet, but that means that instead of hearing about friends dying (or being really sick) years later (like Barcode Jeff), I hear about it now. Frank's memorial was yesterday. I didn't feel like I should go, so I didn't. I'm wondering how tomorrow at work will be.
So now Marshal is in the hospital and I know this via MySpace and the lovely Sidney. I'm glad she mentioned it, but I'm still sad about it.
I'm starting to hate February as a general idea, but I suppose I should be happy that this happened at the end of my vacation and not in the middle.
It seems to cover everything. I've stopped just short of Booing and hissing, like if the villain had found it's way into my play. =(
Marshal is in the hospital. I adore Marshal, as he was one of the kids I ended up in the homeless shelter with. One of the kids who came with me when I tried to go and get my stuff from my mom's house. Marshal watched everything that happened, and then we rode the bus to some weird tree house in the Amazon area where Marshal had vodka that I could drink. Anything to block out the horribleness that occurred when I tried to pick up my things that day.
He's still my friend, and it amazes me. I didn't really think that anyone who saw that side of my life would be able to be friends with me. At least that fighting-argumentative side of my relationship with my mother.
I love it when I do see him, he was one of the few people who made it to my birthday non-party. And I loved seeing him.
I hate and love MySpace. It's so easy to transmit information about yourself via the internet, but that means that instead of hearing about friends dying (or being really sick) years later (like Barcode Jeff), I hear about it now. Frank's memorial was yesterday. I didn't feel like I should go, so I didn't. I'm wondering how tomorrow at work will be.
So now Marshal is in the hospital and I know this via MySpace and the lovely Sidney. I'm glad she mentioned it, but I'm still sad about it.
I'm starting to hate February as a general idea, but I suppose I should be happy that this happened at the end of my vacation and not in the middle.
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