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02.20.05 - 8:37 am

why does february have to be the nastiest month of all time, ever? if all the months in the year were in a kindergarten class together, february would be the kid that everyone shunned and picked up because of his inherent nastiness. it's raining ice right now.

i long for the days where i sleep with my window open and it's breezy-warm and birds wake me up with chirping.

days like this always seem to magically coincide with my ONE day off during the week.

i have been actively combatting the deep purple circles under my eyes for two days now. i know it's because i got an average of 5 hours of sleep for two months straight. i'm not 16 anymore and that shit won't fly.

therefore, i bought preparation h to smear under my eyes twice a day (it's supposed to soothe inflammation). i've started a routine where i submerge my face in ice-cold water immediately after waking up for as long as possible (to shock my facial skin into tightening and being less baggy). and finally, i am going to craft a chart today (complete with gold stars) to graph my success in trying to get 8+ hours of sleep per night for the next two months.

these are all three cures that have been strongly suggested on the internet. if i had a digital camera i might even be so vain as to visually chronicle my success/pitfalls. but most likely not. i look really fucking goddamn haggard ALL the time.

but i will keep you posted on my success, dear diary.
i keep having reconcilliatory dreams about this one person whom i have NO interest in reconciling.

a stray dream here and there about a certain individual and you can shrug it off. but this has been like the last three nights.

you kooky subconscious, what are you trying to tell me? cos i ain't interested.
yesterday i took j. to get his hair cut at this salon i like, but which i knew he would HATE.

it's occupied by people who wear dred locks and ironic tshirts and abundant facial piercings. none of that matters to me because they're always pretty nice and they always do a way better job than, say, great clips.

as a sidenote, i always always HAAAAATE my hair immediately after a haircut. i have yet to perfect the believable, "i like it!" and matching facial expression during the finale when they hand you a mirror and make you inspect the back of your head. but i almost always go home and fuck around with it for a couple days and end up sublimely happy..


basically, j. hated every second of being there and shot down all attempts by his stylist to make conversation.

i told my girl [my official, new girl] that i wanted the same cut, just shaped up and shorted. she was like, "ok, well i have something better in mind."

now i think my hair is so short and sprightly that i look like one of those desperate 40 year old moms who awkwardly try to be sexy and hip. i have little neck wispies and bangs that rest about one inch from my eyebrows. it's not that bad. it's just not me yet.
happy would-be 38th [!?!?!] birthday to mr. kurt cobain.

time to go ice my eyes with chilled spoons!



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