The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain
jenni_the_odd

  • Mood:
Have been hopelessly bitten by the craft bug. I want to make and sell things. Clothing, purses, jewelry. I apparently have an excellent eye for clothing design (according to dressmaker lady I worked with for a few weeks a few years ago) because I can see how things are put together and have no trouble converting flat patterns to 3D garments. It has yet to be seen if this will hold out well enough for the ideas in my head to be converted first to patterns, then to real products. I have some crazy fabric, a few real patterns, a few made-up patterns, I found another decent-sized fabric store (there used to be one nearby, but it closed a long time ago) and my mother has given me free reign with her sewing machine. Hooray for random projects.

Told Gabriel that I wanted to make and sell arm warmers. He wants to make and sell guitars.
Together, we are an Avril Lavigne factory!
Please don't hurt us.

Speaking of which, I heard on the radio that there is a rumor about Avril Lavigne getting engaged to some guy in Sum 41 who she's been dating.
And I thought "My GOD. Should they breed, they will produce offspring with the worst stage presence in all of history." I have seen Sum 41 in concert. It was... um. My sister, her friends, and I literally ran away from the wretched noise. It was horrible. The lead singer was NOT moving around and expending enough breath to justify the complete lack of hitting-the-right-notes that was occurring, and the band seemed to be either suffering from amnesia or were simply too drunk/stoned to remember how to play their instruments. And the performanced of Avril's (televised) that I have seen displayed all the stage presence and charisma of a pile of dog droppings. It's not even that she doesn't move around while she sings and flails at her guitar - that I can understand. I wouldn't want to jump around a lot while singing and playing an instrument either. It's... have you ever seen a small child in a school play reciting a monologue that they have memorized JUST SO and are terrified of forgetting? That "fixed-stare-at-a-point-in-the-back-of-the-audience" thing with no body movement? She does that. She looks like a frightened child on opening night facing an auditorium full of adults with camcorders. Except it's almost cute and kind of funny when it's a 7 year-old looking like s/he is about to wet his/her pants (unless, of course, you are the seven year-old). Not so cute, amusing, or in any way entertaining when it's on SNL.

The bruise from my injections is now the size of a quarter, and a splotchy blue/black. It is delightfully pokeable.

My stomach is HATING me right now. It is somewhere between "done too many situps" and "gonnavomitmoveoutofthewaynowBLARGH". I guess the uterus got out all it's anger (see: random cramping and aching yesterday), and now it is the stomach's turn. Tomorrow, the Small Intestine!
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