Lyrics, Whimsy, and Emotional Fuckwitism

My weightloss journey

Fri, 20 Feb 2004 00:14:29 GMT

My weightloss journey has not been so much of a journey as like.. a road stop. 8 hours a week at the gym- no weight loss. However, I'm looking a lot more shapely. It may be in my head. May be true. I don't know. I do know that going to the gym at least makes me feel better.

My new little Ditty?

Sat, 14 Feb 2004 20:32:42 GMT

Been musing over the thought of film school. 's an exciting concept. Dunno about actually getting in. But it seems like something I'd enjoy.

Cameron is taking a nap, so I thought I'd use this time to gather my thoughts. Apparently I really don't have any. So. There goes that idea.

Happy V-day

Sat, 14 Feb 2004 20:26:58 GMT


Marriage is love.

The powers that BE

Thu, 12 Feb 2004 02:03:52 GMT

So far away
I can't really say.
A slip to the side,
Then nothing to hide.

Lost everything once
to those stupid cunts.
Can't ever tell
why everything fell.

Woke up in the morn',
having missed the ship's horn.
After a week
All was just....Bleak.

Went on with my life,
Kitten turned wife.
Carefully turn back?
Feels about as good as a SMACKK.

Different dreams-
but it's not as it seems.
It's not a wish..
Just my life as a fish.

Weight loss

Wed, 11 Feb 2004 17:41:59 GMT

After I had the baby, I weighed in at a phenomenal 197. After 2 weeks I was at 195, where after I lingered for about 10 months. Isn't that sick? Ew.. Ew! So I started really going to the gym (Like 3 times a week on average) about 2 months ago. I now weigh in at 180. Which when I see all nice in black and white makes me want to scream "COW! COW MOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Fatty fatty fucking fattY!" But I also see that means I have lost like 15 pounds. So. Pat on my back, right?

I want to start using this journal more, so among other things, I am gonna start tracking my weight loss, and my goals here. I feel like actively doing something will help me stay motivated.

So...

Current Weight: 180
Current BMI: 25.9 (low end of the overweight spectrum)

Short term goal: 160
What the stupid BMI says I should weigh: 142-156

I'm gonna go ahead and say I think the BMI is on crack. Seriously. I don't think I could ever weigh 142 pounds. I don't think that's even possible. Like... Physically. My body just isn't built that way.I am pretty sure I'd look downright creepy. I'll see what i think at 160.

Stuff

Wed, 11 Feb 2004 17:23:40 GMT

If you can't think of anything nice to type, type about the dull? Sure.

So Shane bought me a book the other day (I kinda rip through books, I read between 3-5 a month) because I had run out of ideas for new books to read. The one I am currently reading is called uhh... Changing Planes by Ursula K. Le Guin. It's based on the fact that someone in our world had figured out how to "change planes" meaning to visit like... Other dimensions. Where there would be whole other cultures and peoples. I don't know why, but the whole thing has a philosophical feel to it. It's like the author went "Well, what would it be like if people didn't sleep?... If there was a culture full of royal families and only one common?... If there was an entire planet full of commercial corporate shops and inns?"

Anyways. It seems to me that the chick took a big ol' baggy of pot and sat down to write herself a book. It's definitely interesting. However, she has a very pessimistic look upon things. Nothing really has a happy ending. Everything is always damned by "man's" over-eagerness. Bleh. I don't need to read about that. I get enough of that in the real world.

Ugh

Mon, 09 Feb 2004 06:50:38 GMT

I really hate the black sheep status I seem to plaster upon myself ever so diligently all the time. It's so very frustrating. It feels so petty... but... Fucking Grr.

Jobby job

Tue, 03 Feb 2004 04:32:34 GMT

So the place I went in to interview at, they posted another Job ad. The job ad was for the same title, but they totally reworded what the position is. *sighs* It's really... Confusing? Sad? I don't know. Maybe it's a different job. MAybe they changed their mind. Maybe I'll go drown my sorrows in a bottle of Shasta. :P

3 days in a row!

Fri, 30 Jan 2004 18:11:22 GMT

Cameron has now pooped 3 days in a row.... =/ THe cute little every 3 or 4 day poops that most breastfed babies have are gone, and now the gross every day poops are here.

Speaking of poop... I would like to say for a moment, that since Cameron was 4 months old, he hasn't pooped outside of the house.(Actually, there was one time he did) Also, if he ever were to poop outside of the house, I would take him to the car or to a restroom to change him. That said.... Jason at APW apparently told people a while back that he came upstairs to the top floor of the gym and smelled something gross, looked around, and saw me changing Cameron's poopy diaper on the couch. Then he went on to exclaim, "This is no place for that sort of thing!" Not to me, to the people he told this fabrication to. This enrages me for some reason.. I try so hard to be considerate when it comes to that sort of thing. I've never changed Cam's shitty diaper at the gym.. I never ever leave diapers in any random trash cans, I never do the gloating mom act, I try so hard to be "non-parent" friendly. Argh.

So... Had that job interview. Trying really hard not to get my hopes up... But.. Phew... It'd be awesome.

I guess I didn't have much to talk about.. Mm... I mean, I do. Nothing i care to say at the moment. Just more gushing about the interview and the job and family matters. *considers* yea... I'm freakin' dull.

Look what the cat drug in.

Mon, 12 Jan 2004 19:25:04 GMT

So, I don't have much to talk about, I guess. Thought I'd get some stuff off my mind.

First thing that comes to mind is www.ironycentral.com If you check out his "Story about the Baby" and "Story about the Toddler" links, it's worth a few laughs. ;) That guy cracks me up.

Second... Hmm. Well. Things are going well. I am sort of resigned to my new "Semi-diet" where I try not to eat too poorly, but have no idea what is good or bad for me. Really. It's very well thought out. Maybe I'll check out diets today? Hmm. The whole reason why I'm hung up on the diet thing is my upcoming trip to Vegas in April. Then after that it will be summer. I'd like to be in shape for summer... But I'm mostly spazzing about the trip to Vegas. When I lived in Vegas last, I was hot. Plain and simple. Now, I'm a good 20 30 pounds heavier, my whole anatomy has been pushed around by my son (Wider set hip and ribcage) and I don't feel quite as "hot". Not at all. But I feel like I'm getting there. I went on a scale the other day, set me 6 pounds less than the last time I checked. That's not much, but it's a yummy thought. Shane wants to start up that gym thing again today. I hope he follows through with it. I would love to go to the gym with him. 205 pound Shane is yummy. Anyways, what I'm rambling about and skipping around is that I will be seeing all my old friends, one ex boyfriend, and all their new significant others. I want to look good. I want to win. :P

The Cameron beast is doing well. He is showing signs of starting to suck his thumb. Every once in a while he'll suck on his wrist, and that'll slowly turn into him sucking on his thumb.. he's awake now.. gotta go =/

This is what it sounds like when Cameron cries.

Tue, 06 Jan 2004 19:32:53 GMT

Cameron is in his crib freaking out right now. I just tried for over an hour to put him down for a nap. He is tired. I know he's tired. A year of looking at this kid 18 hours a day, and I damn well ~know~ when he is fucking tired.

But he wont sleep. So I try to let him lay down with me. He catches sight of the book I am reading, and starts laughing crazily. Crazily. It's the only word I can think of to describe it. The laugh of someone so far past sleepy, they are like.... Delerious. (However that's spelled) So I say, OKay... Put down the book, and try to get him back down to sleep. But it doesn't work. Everything is a game now. He's little crazy laugh appears at everything. No. Crazy laugh. Try to lay him down and hold him near until I can get into a bf'ing position. Crazy laugh. Everything. So I say, fine. FINE. I put him in his crib, and now he's in there screaming.

It really drives me nuts. I've about had it up to my ears with Cameron. I love him dearly, but I'm ready for a fucking break. as I sit here, listening to him scream, I feel absolutely

Great, there you go boys and girls. Proof that I am a horrible mother. As I sat here trying to have a 5 minute break, my son screaming in his crib, I heard a thunk. Now, 5 minutes later, I sit here with my son, typing one handed as he nurses, and trying to hope he doesn't blame the 5 foot drop from the crib to the ground on me. God, I hope I didn't break him.

Have about 3 hours to my self

Wed, 10 Dec 2003 04:49:18 GMT

And I'm doing laundry. I'm so awesome. *pats her own back*

Thanksgiving

Tue, 25 Nov 2003 18:27:50 GMT

This time of year saps my sex drive. It's really sad. I don't know what it is. but the holiday season... Bleh.

Thanksgiving is coming up, and I think it's time to talk about Thanksgiving past. My mom made the token effort (from what I can remember) up until I was about 13. At which point, I either made Thanksgiving dinner, or we didn't have one. And often we didn't after 13, because in order to have thanksgiving, you have to have food. IN order to have food, you have to have money. And in order to have money, you have to have at least 1 out of 3 possible parents providing it, as such they should be responsible to do. And well, there was none of the above.
So more often than not, there was no Thanksgiving, and when there was, it was very special event indeed. I would cook, and then when it was all done, I would spend an hour trying to get people within the same room to eat it. It usually broke off into my mom eating at her computer, my brothers eating wherever they were playing, and my stepfather eating at the TV. I would generally hang out by the dining room table, reading something and chomping on some pie.

I hate the ghost of Thanksgiving past. He follows me around all season, and makes me, generally, sad. IT hasn't been too bad lately. After I turned 16 and moved out, and lived with Kurtis, we did Thanksgiving with his family. WHile not the most pristine picture of Thanksgiving, it was a whole lot better than any I had before. When I moved in here with Shane, we started making the token effort. It's nice. It's small, and it's happy.

Mr./Mrs. Asshat that had my password.

Tue, 18 Nov 2003 07:31:26 GMT

If you didn't somehow slueth out my password, please disregard the following..

Whoever you are, lurking around with my stupid LJ password, I hope you thoroughly amused yourself. Now piss off, asshole.

-Chynna

How amusing.

Tue, 18 Nov 2003 07:08:32 GMT

I did it in 25</big></b> seconds.
I deserved a B+!!
Take the How Dexterous Are You? Quiz!!

My experiment

Fri, 14 Nov 2003 09:15:24 GMT

I've heard of a few writers doing drinking/writing experiments. They'll start off a bit perfectly sober, and drink more and more as the document goes on. I thought I'd try it out. Maybe sift out a little of my subconscious. So you all know, I'm drinking very expensive Vodka, with some crancherry juice and ice. Wish me luck.

<Beginning of drink one> So, for the most part. People can generally cope with one drink in 'em. Granted my drink is rather large, I think I'll be able to make this whole drink without too many slip ups. The vodka I'm drinking tonight is named Friis, and comes in a new-wavy mod bottle. All slanty and sleek. My cup, is the one I made at Artopia. It's a huge beast, and it was fun to make, but by no means is it a beauty. However, I still like it. Even though I've already chipped the damned thing. Twice.

I have to tell you all, before I am too wasted, that I am a light weight now. I used to be able to hold some liquor, and now the ability is gone. My year and a half of soberness due to pregnancy and breastfeeding prudeness, sapped my tolerance to nearly zilch. One beer gets me pretty toasted. Speaking of my breastfeeding prudeness.. I am still breastfeeding. I do drink. MOst of the times not too heavily. This seems like it's gonna be a heavy night though, and Cameron should be okay. Because babies have withlasted alchy-hol long before nazi mom's have been around (Not real nazi's, i guess I should say :P) I'm sure that the LLL is gonna come castrate me, now that I've said that I drink and bf in a public place. Smite me, O mighty smiters.

I'm about halfway down my mug-o-Chynna. I guess I feel the beginnings of something. I'm getting.. warmer. A little less.. able to keep my thoughts going in one direction. When I drink I tend to want to talk, and loudly. I like to laugh when I'm drunk.. And when I'm drunk I think I'm horribly funny. *thinks* My 21st birthday is going to be a wreck, I bet. *imagines horrible things*

This writing Experiment is going too slow. I'll take a break till I finish this drink. Drink one DONE

Drink two So, walking to the kitchen wasn't so bad. I feel a littla naseaus. I am nto a sick drunk, either. Maybe it's vodka? I don't know. It's not bad. I have to say that I made this drink a lot stronger to get the ball moving. You know. instead of 3:1 it was a 2:2. Which isn't bad. This lil experiment here calls for some music. *cues the band* Physical assertion: Face slackened, shoulder (along with other thigns) itchy, and head... Alright. The wave of nausea has left. My ability to spell nausea.. Also gone.

Good ol' Social D. I wonder what they are doing these days. Pearl Jam used to like to cover social distortion.. Now they like to suck it up big time in their new records. I fear that turning on my mp3's is going to turn this into a very musical entry. But whatever. Missy Elliott is great.. I love her. She's really... What's that word.. Exploratory.. She's.. Moving on to new things all the time. i <3 missy e.

Shane says he wants to go out tomorrow night. I'ts been a few weekends so that might be nice. *Eyes her drink* about a quarter down. 25% .25 1/4 And such. I am feeling some liquors now. Wow, I had blurry vision for a second. Whee. Liquor + Computer screen = not a joke, people! The world was moving, and she was right there with it.. Yea, she was.

I'm never going to be skinny, I don't think. I've always been a curvy gal. Feminine. Whatever. I'm not one of those twiggy types. I am the same size I was right before I met shane. Same weight. So.. What do I freak out about all the time? I freak out because I want to be one of those moms that you see and say "~YOU~ just had a baby?! You look so good!" I want to look so good, please. Devon looks so good. but she's a vegematarion. Almost. A hippy-tarian. hehe.. I think when I stop bfing Cameron, and I see what's going on with my boobs, things'll be under control. I think they might need the snippy snippy. A lil bit of a reduction, if you please.

Everyone I know has a song. Something that makes me think of them. It's like.. a little.. I don't know. Like my personal version of a scrapbook. I was about to tell you all about one of my friends whose song just came on. but... It's not my place to go telling anyone's life story. I gotta say just one more time (I don't think the first timne occured here) how much I like the Talking heads, though.

Drink two Done Bio: Drunkypans

Drink three Just thought that I would clear up the fact that this is like.. 16 ounces of vodka. When Cameron was about 4 months old, I took him into the shower, and i layed him down on my torso. his lil butt was right at my chest, and we were making funny faces at eachothoer. Then he poops/ Right on my chest. at 4 months, baby poop is like super clue.
It was pretty gross. But I didn't care much. He was my lil baby. He's not so little anymore. He wlaks and is starting to tlak/. and I can't stop it. He's becomming my lil man. Je's gonna be as big as Trvor soon. It's gone so fast. He moves around liek its his business. and I can't do anything. Because he's growing. And soon he'll be reading and going to school . and I will be in school too, and it will be like some sort of after school special.

Alright ladies and gentlemen. I am so drunk I can't ebem begin to describe to you... I am very happy tht my spelling has decided to keep up as well as it has. I called shan4 and he did t seem to notice how drink I was. 's aright
he prolly thought i was seepy.
I an a kuk seepy.
Whichi is to say a lil seepie.
oH the cameron woke up. ad he doesnt seem too happy about it.

Hello, hello.

Thu, 13 Nov 2003 06:51:04 GMT

It's me, again. I can't believe some of the mommy drama that's been going on lately.. Makes me want to run away. I am being good though. No need to go on and on about it.. Even though I want to rant and rave.. *Seethes quietly*

Been doing a lot of thinking about school. I think I'll be starting up next semester, which starts in January, I think. I need to stop by Laney and find out what I am supposed to do. IT all seems sort of surreal to me. I feel like I'm going to show up and they're gonna tell me there is some reason why I can't go. Shots? School records? I don't know. The world tries it's hardest to keep me out of the system. Anyone who know's how much trouble I've had with the DMV and Social Security offices know what I mean when I say that.

Every once in a while I think about talking about sort of 'taboo' topics on here. Mostly sex related stuff. I know of a few people who read my journal that wouldn't really appreciate that. But, this thing is my journal, isn't it? I could always hide my TMI behind some lj cuts. I think I'll do that for now on. So anyone that doesn't want to know about all my TMI stuff, don't click the

So, I was curious about my stretch marks. They go around my waist line, and lower. All the way down to my pubic bone. I remember after I had just had Cameron, I looked at my bush and saw all the red stretchies in there from him descending so fast. So I shaved today (itch!) to see the damage. (Yes, it took me 10 months to work up the courage) The stretch marks aren't as bad as they were before.. They don't look weird.. I'm pleased. My hairless vagina however, is a sight I didn't need to see again. I feel like I'm 4. *shudders*

Can't think of anything else I wanted to write abot. *Stretches* I'm tired.

My love for you is ticking clock.

Tue, 11 Nov 2003 18:42:41 GMT

Going to a new playgroup today. Whee. Let's hope this one is a good one. Never met the lady who is hosting before.

Not sure why I'm updating. Just got that tweak, I s'pose. Cameron is standing behind me ever so vigilantly throwing all of Shane's CDs on the floor. Sting is telling me a story about a young teacher and a student's lust. I'm drinking a pretty stale Dr. Pepper and crunching the ice.. And all seems to be well. :)

Speaking of Sting.. and music in general.. I'm kind of bummed. Everyone is so scared to use file/music sharing programs. Even I am. I am not really suprised that they are pushing the laws on the subject. God forbid someone figure out a way to enjoy something without giving all their money away. *makes a face* It's not like these bands aren't making millions and millions off publicity and concerts. The only people suffering are the stupid middlemen record producing companies.

My cat just knocked over my soda. All over my desk. I can't wait until she is no longer a kitten. She's got too much spunk. She needs to be an outdoor kitty. She can hunt down poor little birds and stop knocking over my shit. *counts the days until Eddie is old enough to get spayed*

Ohh.. I just remembered what I wanted to write about. Chuckie! Chuckie will be coming back on the 20th. Our little house has missed him much. He's like family. The half a year he is in California, he spends mostly at our place. PLaying video games, and telling us questionable stories about Greece. I talked to him on the phone the other day, and he said that he cut his hair. I don't know whether to mourn or not. I love long hair. Few men these days have nice long hair. 's a pity. But his hair is gone, and I bet he looks fine. He's handsome, anyways. He looks a little bit like the guy who played Wolverine in all the X-men movies.

I've also been meaning to do a rant about my family. Which is mostly a "What family?" rant. But I wont. It's pointless. I get like this every year around the holidays. I start to question why ~I~ have to have such a crappy family. Then I remember lots of people do.. and I think I probably handle it better than some people.. So it's better me than someone who will flip out all the time. I.. I just get.. Sad.

Cameron Finally went to sleep. Yes. Finally with a capitol F. He's taking his morning naps later and later and they are becoming noon-ish naps. I can deal with it fine, I just wish he could. He so fussy sometimes. I know what to do with a 3 month old fussy baby. What about a ten month old walking around the house and screaming at EVERYthing? I can only imagine what's going on in his head... ~I hate the color orange! Why does it exist?! Oh my god! It's everywhere!!! ORANGE!~

Hey there, from right here.

Mon, 10 Nov 2003 17:11:32 GMT

Not much going on, on this side of the moon. Been content.. Little bit of EBP drama.. But what's new? Member unhappy, member wants to leave. Wah wah wah. I wish I could stay out of it, but I'm a moderator now, so I can't. The whole mood has changed in some people. I'm included. I don't feel like putting as much effort or energy into events or friendships anymore. Something about that old reaping and sowing saying just isn't sll that accurate.

Cameron is doing really well. Walking, starting to talk.. What more can I ask for? A full nights sleep? Heh.. Nah.. He's doing very well.

Everyone seems to be quite taken with ff11. And All I have to say abou that is "Screw you all". I can't beliee I'm the only person I know to truely give up MMORPGs. I've seen so many people quit though. "Never again" they say. Then they try to get me to play again when their habit kicks up. RPG's are like... Drugs. You can't be wishwashy. They'll getcha again and again.

Not much more than that goin' down. No scoop.. Just poop. Ya'll have a good day..

So..

Fri, 31 Oct 2003 06:19:22 GMT

How the hell are you all doing? I'm doing okay. Life is going in a pretty nice routine here... but I do think I'm coming down with a little something. I'm coughing. A lot. Feels like my throat is gonna fall out (:P)

Been doing some writing, off screen. Mostly because I don't know my quality, and because the last story I posted ended up being more depressing than I usually feel the need to be. It seems like ideas can fall out of your head so easily.. I always see writers wandering around making notes or talking into those little mini recorders.. I used to think it was silly, now I'm almost thinking it's necessary. I thought it was so trendy, almost.

Anyways.. Just a quick update. I may get a little story done tomorrow night, since Shane is working the 1-9 (bleh)

Thank you, Oakland, Good night!

A twirl and a swirl, and one more whirl..

Sat, 25 Oct 2003 06:21:03 GMT

Did you know that they make Monet bed spreads? It doesn't stop there. You can also get curtains, dust ruffles, sheets, and drawer liners. You could put your whole room up in a seizure inducing splay of abstract art, if you wanted. Even if you didn't. Squishy little water lilies.. Everywhere you fucking turn. Somehow Jillian just didn't think this is what Claude had in mind.

Glancing at the door nervously, Jillian sat very still, trying to hear what may or may not be going on in the hall. Holding her breath, nothing. She resumes breathing as normal and reaches under her bed, pushing aside the dreary bed liner. She sits up with a pale blue box in her hands that is about the size of a index card holder. It matches the 9 other blue boxes under her bed. This one, though, contains much more important things than the others.

Opening the box, she pushes aside a picture of her sister smiling purposefully at the camera. Several other pictures of her sisters and mother are pushed to the side, all of them giving that posed We're so happy smile. Jillian scrambles through a lock of hair, a few pins, a sticker, and sees what she's looking for. She grabs the silvery...

Creak

Her head shoots up and her eyes go to the door. What was that? Sounds of footsteps come down the hall, and stop just in front of her door. Jillian pushes the box and fast and quietly as she can under the bed, and grabs her book Geometry and it's Practical Uses. It's a waste though, the footsteps continue into the bathroom, after a few moments of lingering at her door. A flush, more footsteps fading to the back of the house.

Sighing, she gets the box again. Slowly opening, and slightly touching the handle of her razor blade again. She bought a new handle just last week. She was tired of slicing up her fingers accidentally. It hurt, ironic as it was. The razor and it's handle was very small, and plain. Just your everyday razor, the type you use at work to open boxes, or to get the gunk off your windows. She picks it up, and feels relaxed already. Setting the razor on her bed, she puts away the box. She's never been caught. Jillian is spectacularly carefull, and private on top of it.

Socks; off. Foot; in her lap. She begins. She never knows what she's going to do before she starts, and never knows when she'll stop. She rarely thinks in the time between. Pushing the razor's edge to her ankle, just above the knotty bone, the skin gives easily. It's a new razor, and the blood doesn't come for a second. It's not a deep cut. Just enough to scab. When she begins to bleed, she smears it away with her fingers. Needs to see what she's doing, but she doesn't know why. She draws the razor down. It hurts. But this pain isn't so bad.. Not as bad as what she was feeling before she had started. There is a 2 centimeter cut in her ankle now. Not very deep. Not very much blood. Straight, and painful, and fantastic.

After a few minutes, she notices there is now an H carved into her ankle. She doesn't think much of it, and continues. It sounds so simple, but it takes her a long time. She moves slow, and feels it through. 30 minutes pass, and she has no idea. In her mind, there is absolutely nothing. She doesnt think, she doesn't want or need, she just hurts. Just a little. Nothing too bad.

Jillian slowly starts to come to, and stops slicing into her ankle. She takes in a quick breath when she actually sees her ankle. There is more blood than usual. She had carved a lot more than she usually does, and can't even see her cuts through the blood. Jillian reaches for her tissue paper awkwardly. Don't want to spill blood all over.. All over "her" Monet breadspread. She smirks a little as she wonders if anyone would even be able to notice a little blood in the abstract water lily "art". But she's always carefull, and she reaches the tissues slowly. She pulls one out, and swiping it over her cuts. Little pieces cling to her leg, soaking up the blood and not wanting to let go. Her smile fades.

Help

smirks

Fri, 24 Oct 2003 18:15:55 GMT

Always pleased to amuse, ladies and gentleman.

Hi.

Fri, 24 Oct 2003 05:35:33 GMT

Ya know, she thinks, I'm so impressionable. She is, too. An ever flitting mind, always coming up with silly ideas that just might spark something. Writing? Light that fire. No.. Her whole life, looking for something to love. Sure there are people. That's easy. I can barely spell, let alone follow grammar laws. How can so many people be struck with a passion, a lifelong eagerness and goal, while she is left blundering? She tips the ever-present salt shaker over, very slowly, letting a few grains slip to the table. Her finger pressing to the freed grains, than to her tongue without her even realizing what she's doing.

This is stupid. She glances over at her husband and smiles slightly as he wonders outloud about what she's typing. "Nothin', sweets."

Forget about it, kay? She does. Tries to, anyways. Closing her WordPad, opening her passtime java games. It's gone. No need to worry. It wouldn't of lasted anyways. Hmm...

Well...

Tue, 21 Oct 2003 06:04:05 GMT

Krista - Your real name should be Krista. People
with the name Krista usually are whores. They
like to drink Vodka and go out with older men.
Shame on you.

What should your name be?
brought to you by Quizilla

I don't know about the whore thing.. Slut, perhaps. Not a whore.

This is out of a post in a group I joined earlier..

Tue, 21 Oct 2003 05:35:33 GMT

I think I'm breaking a rule here, and with my very first post. Someone has to be impresse, neh?

In order to get around this "breaking a rule" business, I'll try to make it into a discussion. ;) So, I'm gonna introduce myself, and kinda tell ya'll why I decided to join the group.

*waves* HI, I'm Chynna. I live in Oakland. I'm married. I'm young (I really loathe it), I have a wittle tiny baby, and he's great, but not every single part of me. Thought you'd think otherwise, the way all my old "friends" treat me now. "Oh! Hi Chynna... How's it going? How's Cameron? Really? That's great.. Have a nice day!"

*shakes her head* I lost something when I had Cameron, and gained a whole lot more. However, one tends to miss the little things. I miss having a friend that would look over and say "Ew! You have a booger on your forehead!" instead of staring at it in horror for an hour, only for me to find it at the end of the day when I finally get a chance to take a gander in the mirror.
I miss spending an hour on the phone, talking about stupid stuff. (Rachel's boob's on friends are seriously growing..) I miss dropping by a friends house, no calls, no expectations, and sitting on the couch doing nothing. I miss being down to earth, and unashamed, and loved for quirks. I guess I just miss... friends.

Sometimes I think it's a little unrealistic to think all of those things can exist still, after you "grow up". I'm just now realising that I'm really dissapointed in the way the world works. People grow up, and they change. Anywho. That's my rant/insight/feelings/goals/thingie. So. uhm.. heh.. Hope to meet you all soon!

-Chynna