![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jul. 28th, 2002
Prettification
Jul. 28th, 2002 05:37 pmAnyone who rates Voyager shouldn't be entitled to an opinion on Star Trek.
Fuck you.
Anyway. The day has been quite triumphantly crappy. I haven't been anywhere or done anything, so technically I shouldn't be writing this as there's nothing to write about.
It has taken me ten minutes to get into my own email account. At least there is e-mail in it - one email, big whoop!
I'm still trying to download codecs for Nightwalkers. Does anyone really care about this stuff? This patheticnessicity that is my life?
I haven't been anywhere except to post a letter. And for some reason my mother is on a prettification efficiency drive. There are times I wish I had siblings for her to concentrate on, but no, I am apparently the only one. And I am an accident. I only recently found out that my parents didn't want kids - and then I was born. And then, I'm female. That was a great day for the clan at large. Can you tell I'm being sarcastic?
It's strange, the extremes they go to. Half the time, they are the most rocksome parents in the world, being liberal, literary free-thinkers, ready to do anything except insult my intelligence or get in the way of my individuality.
And then, the other half of the time, I want them to be more conventional. I want them to get excited about Christmas, go food shopping, and have family reunions like most people's parents apparently do.
But I guess the prettification efficiency drive is more conventional than usual. My mother strode in, muttering an evil tirade about how my room is a mess, and not only is it a mess, it isn't remotely pretty/feminine/floral, and why are there CDs everywhere and books everywhere else, and why do the CDs feature guitars and the books feature aliens, and then there's my clothes, why do they have to be denim and/or red, and why do I have to have dangly earrings, bracelets and chains, and why do I insist on going round looking like a hippie?
It's very difficult to think of things to say to this. Needless to say my room is still a mess, but I was prevailed upon to wash my hair, and even (shock horror!) wear something pretty and lilac. I may go out a little later, and by then I will be wearing short denim baggies and a red top. Lives depend on it.
I think I'm going to click "Post" now.
Fuck you.
Anyway. The day has been quite triumphantly crappy. I haven't been anywhere or done anything, so technically I shouldn't be writing this as there's nothing to write about.
It has taken me ten minutes to get into my own email account. At least there is e-mail in it - one email, big whoop!
I'm still trying to download codecs for Nightwalkers. Does anyone really care about this stuff? This patheticnessicity that is my life?
I haven't been anywhere except to post a letter. And for some reason my mother is on a prettification efficiency drive. There are times I wish I had siblings for her to concentrate on, but no, I am apparently the only one. And I am an accident. I only recently found out that my parents didn't want kids - and then I was born. And then, I'm female. That was a great day for the clan at large. Can you tell I'm being sarcastic?
It's strange, the extremes they go to. Half the time, they are the most rocksome parents in the world, being liberal, literary free-thinkers, ready to do anything except insult my intelligence or get in the way of my individuality.
And then, the other half of the time, I want them to be more conventional. I want them to get excited about Christmas, go food shopping, and have family reunions like most people's parents apparently do.
But I guess the prettification efficiency drive is more conventional than usual. My mother strode in, muttering an evil tirade about how my room is a mess, and not only is it a mess, it isn't remotely pretty/feminine/floral, and why are there CDs everywhere and books everywhere else, and why do the CDs feature guitars and the books feature aliens, and then there's my clothes, why do they have to be denim and/or red, and why do I have to have dangly earrings, bracelets and chains, and why do I insist on going round looking like a hippie?
It's very difficult to think of things to say to this. Needless to say my room is still a mess, but I was prevailed upon to wash my hair, and even (shock horror!) wear something pretty and lilac. I may go out a little later, and by then I will be wearing short denim baggies and a red top. Lives depend on it.
I think I'm going to click "Post" now.
*taps foot*
Jul. 28th, 2002 05:55 pmI am only typing this to give me something to do whilst four websites take their good time downloading. Fuck dialup. Fuck Yahoo! Fuck Heliopolis. Fuck DivX. Fuck Hotmail. Fuck Usefulcontent.
Yuk. *taps foot*
Yuk. *taps foot*