The Latest Theory

I keep dyeing my friends' hair and not wearing gloves, and then my hands are always stained and I always spend the next few days looking at my stained skin and thinking "why the fuck did I not simply wear gloves and avoid this?" But then the next week of two rolls around and I do it again. Why do I continually do this to myself even when I know of the consequences?

Because I, my dearest friends, cannot be bothered.

Except, now my hands are the color of an Ethiopian child.
I think this might have been the final straw, though. My hands look permanently dirty, which is off-putting to the genenral public, and having to explain my stupidity to repeatedly to my confused friends and aquaintances is becoming rather annoying... So, perhaps, gloves next time...

Also, latest theory on why I never cry:

I think I'm a sociopath. A high-funtioning, nonviolent, extremely well-integrated sociopath. Like, not Dexter Morgan-style, more like Gil Grissom-style.

Yeah, more on that one later.

Anyway. I'm off to procrastinate, take a few pages of Euro note and then write a rhetorical analysis of a shitty essay for Lang. School is suffocating me, but it might be about to get very, very interesting here in Hicktown.

More on that later too.

For now, I am stuck doing the work I that I must in order to maintain survival, and half-heartedly looking for a job that actually pays (This whole paramilitary organization thing just ain't paying for my drug habit and monthly condom supply. Sorry Uncle Sam, a girl's gotta live), and keeping my stomach from ulcerating itself again.

I hate this town.



Aw, poor Julia, life is so tough for you, what with children starving in third-world countries, people denying the Holocaust, our country going down the shitter, puppies being euthanized, and gays still not being allowed to marry.

You know what?

I've had a bad day, someone tell me I'm pretty.
Julia