I ate 1/16 of one and a tiny can 'o spicy V8 (warmed on my cars air conditioner vents...) for lunch. Mmm, spicyness. Mmm, under 60 calories... I'll regret it later, though, I'm sure. Blargh.
Wowie! You are Tfu Tfu! You're the odd one out, there are few places you fit in. Others don't understand you very well and tend to treat you indifferently and take you for granted. But then again, you don't really give a damn about them anyway.
e.O okay. I have no clue how to pronounce that.
Read Rosencrantz's part yesterday and today in English. I love that play. Much fun. I just wish death upon my insanely rude and oblivious classmates. Much death. Much pain. Preferably in silence.
Urgh. Ensemble practice during band today (free day). We suck. I can play my part, I can play Robert's part, Nicole can (with minimal practice) play her part, and Robert... Um... needs to practice a bit, and then will hopefully be able to play his part by Friday.
We practice again after school. *shudder* Hopefully in the band hall this time; I quite literally could neither feel nor move my fingers after fifteen minutes or so of outside playing. Not to mention that it wreaked havoc on our tuning. So hrm.
... My jacket is getting to be threadbare from years of wear and from the more recent gnawing and scratching. There are now holes for my thumbs. And it does nothing to keep out the cold.
This is not good. My mother will attempt to throw away my jacket. And we cannot have that.
Those of you who own jackets or other items that serve as a sort of 'security blanket' know what I mean. Yes, this jacket is large enough that I could easily fit two of me in here. Yes, it is getting threadbare and no longer really keeps me warm. Yes, it is covered in little fuzzies - I think at this point, it is made of little fuzzies - and looks ugly. Yes, it has this habit of sliding off of my shoulders.
But it is safe. I can hide in it. And if anyone's been paying attention to my rants, I have this innate need to hide and become invisible. And this jacket helps with that. I can lose my entire self within the folds of its fuzzy fabric and feel quite safe and content. It's pockets are large enough to hold my keys and any assortment of pens, pencils, erasers, and markers that I like to keep immediately handy on my person. It's large enough to hide my body completely; when I feel fat and ugly I can take comfort in the fact that people will see only the jacket and not so much the body inside it.I can wear sleeveless shirts or shirts that are shorter than I would normally like (I enjoy tunics...) and just hide all my apparel in the jacket. This jacket has been with me for years; at some points people would not recognize me immediately without it. It has shielded me from wind, sand, rain, it has stayed on me even on 110-degree bus rides, it has joined me at school, church, and work. It has absorbed my sweat (not too much. I can deal with Houston heat in this thing for some reason), tears (not often) spit (so I drool when I sleep every now and then. Who doesn't? Bah) and blood (these sleeves are like sponges). To me, it is a retreat. It is my home away from home and it is the one item I possess that offers me comfort regardless of my location or whatever else is going on.
There are three jackets. Two black, one gray. This one, the black one that buttons, is my favorite. The other black one zips up and is nearly seven years old, so the zipper long since broke, which means it opens constantly and doesn't help much for the hiding. The gray jacket... meh. It was my mom's. I don't like gray so much.
I haven't seen the other black jacket in some time, and I worry that my mother has done away with it, and this one will be next.
I try to keep it on my person, and wash it discreetly when she's not looking.
I shall not lose this jacket.