Ouchie. Ouch. Owie. OW!

"My life is brilliant./my love is pure./I saw an angel./Of that I'm sure./She smiled at me on the subway./She was with another man./But I won't lose no sleep on that,/'Cause I've got a plan./You're beautiful. You're beautiful./You're beautiful, it's true./I saw you face in a crowded place,/And I don't know what to do,/'Cause I'll never be with you." James Blunt -Beautiful

"Baby slow down/The end is not as fun as the start/Please stay a child somewhere in your heart/I'll give you everything you want/Except the thing that you want/You are the first one of your kind/And you feel like no one before/You steal right under my door/And I kneel 'cos I want you some more/I want the lot of what you got/ And I want nothing that you're not/Some things you shouldn't get too good at/Like smiling, crying and celebrity/Some people got way too much confidence baby" U2 -Original Of The Species

just shoot me. Please.

word of advice to anyone with half a brain (which is apparently more than i have or will ever have at this rate) DO NOT PLAY SOCCER WITH A SPRAINED ANKLE. No matter how good the drugs make you think its feeling. i would like my foot amputated from the calf down. Actually i kind of like the foot.Maybe i can keep the foot and just hack away the ankle Ok. okI'm being melodramatic.But ow!

it saddens me every time i look in my mailbox and it is empty, well it is never truly empty, but it never has any mail i want to readMaybe i need to write to people more (or at all for that matter)But but its always hard to take the first step its scary and not very good for my rejection fears Really everyone should just write me millions of letters so i can respond.

i lost most of my day yesterday to this stupid ankle and i refuse to go to the er to check it out today. i am not gonna waste another six hours of my life to hear the Dr. (who never really is a But but a nurse practitioner or a third year med student or such not that I'm complaing i just dont want to speand money and time to hear sometone tell me to use the damn crutches and take the damned drugs.

my fears of being contradictory are coming true... some one called me "a refreshing mix of vulgar and classy" at a party this weekend. i didnt know whether to slap the bastard or to thank him for the compliment. I've never really thought of my self as either particularly vulgar(though i was swearing alot, while minding the rest of my manners) or particularly classy and definitely not as a mix... i guess i shall stop (though which part im going to stop both the manners and the swearing are ingrained)

to some one im not even sure reads this ( but have a sneaking suspicion does): i am sorry about what happend to you on monday, i hope everyone is ok and is not too affected. i am glad no one was home because i would be crushed to hear that one of you got hurt by some crackhead looking for a fix. the shoulders here if you need it (ears too). they always will be. dios bendiga su familia, todos se amo.