Skip to main content

Make me stop being mad

Right now I feel so so mad about little things.

I'm mad because I have to go to the salon and get my hair fixed even though I told her I wanted my bangs shorter, and I have so much else I need to do anyway. I should have been assertive about both the length and the bangs. I was trying to be agreeable and that is really so stupid.

I'm mad because the iPhone crashes out of things randomly, doesn't post some of my blog pics and formats some of my posts wrong, so I cannot really express myself creatively through my blogs without fear of it being garbled or lost.

I hate it, and I hate that it auto-completes so badly, and I hate the tiny keyboard and the apps and iTunes and everything, all of it. It's for common people.

I want my Treo back. I want my fringe back. I hate the modern world. I hate layers and bangs swept to the side. I do not want to be like everyone else. I am not a hen that needs to hang with the group and do what they do. I am so tired of people assuming that's just what I want. It is not what I want at all. My chickens do that in order to survive, but there aren't any other species that hunt us so why do we conform?

Popular posts from this blog

New place

This is the second lunch I've passed in this downtown Barnes and Noble. I like this place. If I worked here I would undoubtedly come here for lunch. It is going to be hard forfeiting the hour and fifteen lunches, but normal life is less stressful than this. I am not cut out for city living. I still had driving troubles today. These one way streets are so difficult. I don't understand parking, and I like finding locations that I "cain't miss" from the road. Everything is so densely packed. Everyone else seems to have walked somewhere, but I celebrate lunchtime as the time to get as far away from the work as possble with as much comfort as possible, and Subway, I'm sorry, is not comfortable. Last night I slept from 7 p.m. to 5 a.m. when I had to call in. I have slept so much lately, but I feel in such a muddle. My head is pounding. If I were home I don't think I could put myself together enough to do any of my things. I really long to do things, too. Writing...

Gervaise

1789 Gervaise was the first one to enter Delphinia's bedchamber. Golden light spread through a crack in the white curtains, throwing a lacey pattern onto the silk-shrouded bed. Delphinia lay in the finest guest bedchamber in the castle. It had been converted from the room of the dowager Markgrafin upon her death. Though Gervaise's entrance was not quiet, there was no stirring in the midst of the great bed. Gently Gervaise laid down the tray of chocolate and great cinnamon rolls and approached the bed, pushing aside the curtain to view the prone figure there. Delphinia lay in a contorted state, her limbs drawn up against her protectively, looking like a frightened child, though she was in the depths of sleep. Her hair, dark-colored, the finer strands gilded and curling around her face and brow, was mangled, freed from its pins without a combing. She wore a loose white shift, no nightgown. Gervaise was not offended by disorder or carelessness, but Delphinia's disarray gave he...