Bah!

I totally fucked up my journal, yo. Whoops. Bear with me while I fix it >.<

Fuck,

Pam

Written, Monday, Sept. 08, 2003 at around: 12:24 PM

Ugh, bloody hell.

Hey,

I am bleeding from my vagina. Not that it�s anything unusual or bizzare, but I�m a little pissed off that the bleeding couldn�t have watied a day or two. Tomorrow I�m supposed to go to my puss doctor, and they frown on peering into bloody vaginas.

Hell, wouldn�t anyone frown at peering into a bloody vagina? Unless you�re just into that sort of thing. Tomorrow, I�m gonna go anyway, because I�ve been wating months to get a perscription for anti-pregancy medications, and I intend to have some by 1pm tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully the doctor won�t turn me away, and tell me to come back agian later and leave my juicy maxipads at home.

I�m actually expereincing cramps, which is a rare occurance for me, so I�m unusally quiet and broody this morning. My body is also trying to convince me that I don�t have an appitie at the moment, which I know is complete and utter horse shit. If there�s no food in my body, I�m an unusually irritable fuck until the hungry feeling is resolved. Combined with the joyus mood swings brought to my fellow Americans who reside along the shores of the crimson tide, hunger makes for quite the X-games of bitchyness. Irritable pam to the XTREME!

So since I have to live in this body while it goes through its lining-sheding, and giving me the endorphin kicks to make it all the more enjoyable, I�m going to keep myself fed. The last thing we need, as a society, is me being extra-bitchlike due to hunger pangs.

I think my boss is under the impression that I�m plotting his death.

He�s not too far off of the truth. I�m not plotting his death, or even the death of anyone else. I�m simply plotting. Yes, plotting. Be afraid.

Well, if nothing else being, �she of the bloody uterus �is encouraging me to use more flavorant language today, and that�s not even me being sarcastic.

Okay, I�m on the rag, meaning I�m hypersensitive and have been getting emotional over what would normally inspire me to say, �What the fuck are they gonna do?� or something as normally insensitive for me. Yesterday I watched a chick flick movie, on puropose. So I�m sitting in my apartment, preparing to start bleeding (praying that I was gonna start on wednsday, but well, we know how well prayer works for me) wearing my jammies, eating oreo ice cream out of the container bearfoot on my couch, watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 days. I cried.

Yes, I�m lame.

Watching said chick-flick reminded me of John, because he watches sappy shit like that all the time. He loves Meg Ryan, gets his nails painted -frequently- and often gets his hair dyed a intense shade of cranberry red. Ah, my best friend is a man who is constantally on his period. And he�s not gay. Riight. Anyway, he�s seen the bitch-flick I watched, and the movie reminded of him and his faggish swagger. He�s been in a pretty damn morbid mood for him, and Crazian John is a Morbid fuck. Lately I haven�t wanted to be Crazian John�s friend, because he�s done some dumb stuff, and said morbidness.

To let you in on what�s going on, he�s been really fucking stupid lately, and doing stuff that I don�t really condone. I�ve been disapointed in him, and honestly considered cutting him off as a friend, which kind of sucks, because he is quite fond of refering to me as his best friend. I stopped calling a bunch of my �best friends� best friends after we hadn�t spoken for more than a couple of months. He was approaching that point, and it was mostly because he�s been doing dumb shit, not doing important shit and otherwise making his life more miserable than it needs to be.

I got all emotional about this, and started sniveling and sobbing, �Crazian John is ruining his life!!� So I had to get on the phone, and cry to him, and make him feel bad too. It was so worth it. Let me tell you, when I start crying -most of the time- I sound like there�s something really wrong with me. There is nothing worse you can do to a sensitive man than call him on the phone when you�re already crying. Well, there are worse things, but they�re way illegal, and John was way worried. Good, ya fuck, you made me cry.

So I talked to crazian john for a while, and ended up walking to get a water ice, and visited john for a little while. It was the first time I laid eyes upon that bastard since June or July. ... Since we all went to go see the hulk. I�m still really disapointed in him, but whatcha gonna do? I guess I am his friend after all. I don't cry unless I care. Or my period's on.

Speaking of things that made me cry: Fadein does it again. Striking people with emotion on a journal which I usually go to just for updates on homeboy's life, and his uber-humor. It made me cry, and it touched me right in my heart. It stung a little, but it was a good sting. I hope everyone can find a little spot in their hearts for him, 'cause that same kind of loss has happened to me, and -way- too many people around me. It's sad, but I understand.

Then I walked over to latrice�s house. I did her a requested favor, and we chatted for a bit. She�s a little bummed �cause she�s not working. I feel so bad for her, because I know just how she feels, and there�s nothing I can do to resolve her feelings of Blech ness. It was good to talk to her though, because she�s a good friend. Slowly she�s working her way into my inner circle. That�s funny, because I�ve known her longer than most of my current friends, yet it took all this time to get close to her. Interesting.

It's lunchtime, yo. I'm gonna eat.

Everyone feel better,

Pam