I also emailed Tyler and tried to email Cat (of si-cat-write, right here at the big dland. great stuff, beautiful template, so read it all ready) to tell her thankyou for the email that she sent me but something got fucked up and I couldn't send it because the world hates me. So anyway, thanks.

Erica gets all these little chain emails from her stupid pubescent friends meant to predict the future or ensure good luck or whatever the fuck and she always forwards them to me. So I got one from her today titled "If you delete this, then you are heartless." So after wading through five million random email addresses of forwarding victims, I finally get to this sob story about some girl who has a brain tumor from being beaten and lung cancer from second-hand smoke and is fast approaching death. According to this little message, for every time it's forwarded, seven cents will be donated to her cause. And this girl is pleading for her story to be forwarded to as many people as possible and then she says: if choose not to forward this, just remember that what goes around comes around. What the fuck? I don't think threatening people is the way to gain sympathy. Not that whoever wrote the piece of shit deserves any sypmathy anyway. What a fucking joke, and you should have seen the grocery list of names of all the idiots who bought into it.

Naturally, I deleted it. Enough of that shit.

Last night I went out with Cedar and Ariel. (There's a part of me that wants to write 'Areola' instead of 'Ariel' simply because of it's humorous, eye-catching effect, but I won't because Cedar likes her) It was weird because being with Cedar and Ariel is like being with Cedar x2. They're perfect together. It kind of felt like the Seseme Street game-- which of these things does not belong?

Anna.

Anna didn't really fit well in the equation. Which isn't a big deal except that I am now forced to realize that I am not the best and the only and the biggest for Cedar. There are other people better suited for her than me. I should be happy that she's finally found that, and I am, but I also always want to be the center of attention and obsession because I am:

selfish

sadistic

mean

controlling

insecure

I found out today that my cousin is being sent to Kuwait. I haven't seen him in five years because our extended family situation is shit. So all I remember is a stupid kid who shaved his head with his mother's razor and told me he was going to carry a purse when he was older and used to put on Barbie strip shows when we were bored. Little Mark with the puppy eyes and babyish curly blonde hair. And to think that he's going to be over there . . . It's surreal.

I've eaten nearly an entire sleeve of saltines. Jesus Christ.

And oh yeah, in case you weren't sure, my birthday is in exactly one week. Mark it down, make yourself a little fucking paper chain, tattoo it to your forehead. You wouldn't want to be the one to forget, would you?

Humor me. I feel unloved.

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