I have some fat-free ice cream. It tastes of ass. Somewhat. But at least it's got sugar. I saw some fat-free, sugar-free ice cream. What the hell is in that stuff? Can they even call it ice cream?
Still fretting over the person mentioned in the post previous. This is because there is a very real possibility he might just decide to never speak to me again. Not out of angry-teenage-bitchiness, just merely because he doesn't want to. I wish I could remember the conversation that angered him; I can't recall exactly what was said and I don't have it saved (damn). I've been going over the bits I do remember in my head all day, agonizing over where I said something I shouldn't have, and where I should have picked up on what his mood was, etc. My own mood that day (judging by journal entries) was of the "FUCK IT ALL" variety. Never a good mood for me to talk to people in. I say things I regret later. Case in point... But yes. So I have been contemplating this all day, making myself mildly ill. On top of that, I have eaten because it is Father's Day and in my family, Love = 'cooking obscene quantities of food for someone'. Making myself feel worse, physically. Blecchhh.
I don't have many close friends. Losing one is a very big deal to me. Hrm.
I tried working on ML today. It went something like this:
1. Jenni sits down with a sketchbook, pencil, and eraser.
2. Jenni gets up to refill her water bottle.
3. Jenni sits down with a sketchbook, pencil, eraser, and water bottle.
4. Jenni gets up and turns on the fan.
5. Jenni sits down to her artistic utensils.
6. Jenni taps her pencil against the table.
7. Jenni chews on the end of her pencil.
8. Jenni's Fangs 'O Doom nearly destroy the end of the pencil.
9. Jenni draws a line, circle, or series of shapes
10. Jenni stares at it for a minute
11. Jenni erases it.
12. repeat #9 - 11 approximately 20 times
13. Jenni gives the hell up. Can't think of anything to draw anyway.
But Nicole, Gabriel, and I did manage to scare the minister and his wife. Nice people, just fun to be weird around. Between the three of us, tortilla soup nearly came out Diana's (the minister's wife's) nose. It's a good thing.
The ice cream still tastes of ass, and is staring back at me from it's sad, soggy little melted lump in the bowl because I can't finish it. Stop staring at me. Stop it!