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2:54 p.m. | Wednesday, Sept. 25, 2002
Day Three, it gets more interesting Day Three: Sept. 19th I'm listening to my Discman trying to get this terrible song out of my head. It was playing in the cab when I got here on Tuesday, Underneath Your Clothes by Shakira. Icky. I haven't even heard the stupid song more than five times in my life. I have the TV on mute in the background so I have something to look at once in awhile. I miss the computer, I keep wanting to look something up or try out a website they show on TV. I phoned Morrison last night and talked for about 15 minutes. I probably shouldn't have used the cell phone that long but I needed to hear a friendly voice. Last night my favorite home health aid came over and helped me have a shower. She is going to come over tomorrow too. I really really appreciate it; it makes this place a little more bearable. Plus she agreed with me that the one guy who works here is a condescending son of a bitch. Her exact words in fact. He meets me once and calls me smiley. For some reason I didn't find it all that funny. I didn't I smile at his comment either, which was probably his objective. I just raised my eyebrows. I'm not six years old for pete's sake. On Monday nights a local channel has started playing the Ozzbornes, the first season. They don't bleep out any of the swearing, which I think helps make the whole show make more sense and flow better. The resolution on the TV is much better than on the computer, haha. I don't even know what season they are in now on MTV. Did anyone else hear that they have another daughter but she refused to be on the show? Maybe it's just a weird rumor. So my sister's boyfriend was supposed to be here on Tuesday with some stuff I needed but I haven't seen hide nor hair of him. Nobody has phoned either. I find that a little bit odd. I finally watched the movie they lent me months ago, Original Sin. It wasn't too bad. Naked Angelina Jolie is always good. The idea that you can make a man fall in love with you by being great in bed seems slightly far-fetched to me. Plus, who would want a guy who was that weak? Did someone tell me I was supposed to listen to Nick Carter? He sounds like a Backstreet Boy. I should have brought scotch tape. Expecting things that never happen. I dream about being cut by glass. "Fun" is boring when it's all you do. Strangely I've never been bored by sex. Make me yours, own me, let me be your dirty little slave. World War II, Vietnam, Atomic Bombs and radiation are good things in comic books. 7:30 is too late. Don't knock on my door. Don't phone me. All this junk food will probably make me fat. Which food is junk, the meal or the chocolate bars? I want to buy odd strange clothes and walk around for weird looks. Being in a wheelchair with a respirator seems to be enough of a statement. I'm only beautiful sometimes. I'm only sexy occasionally. He's not coming. What's a woman's version of fight club? Why can't women fight? Body art is a rush. It's good if you like pain. Scissors but no tape. Bloody hell. Nobody remembers you in an institution; instant invisibility. I'm a superhero! That's a really nice knife. I'd draw it if I could draw. Depression is not helped by little rooms with mint green walls dedicated to boredom. Ativan is not helping. Ok so I�ll just take some more. Vodka could be sexy. I miss living things. I let a fly have my pudding to be friendly. Robert Paulson. I'm high now so I�ll play with tarot cards. To be able to wear clothes I want to restore Like Marla or Gwen The house in fight club. Would be lovely Or any big old Wheelchairs dictate your clothes Interesting house.
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This is my blogchalk:
Canada, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, , English, , Female, 26-30, Reading.