my sewing machine doesn't seem to want to work anymore. It's given up for the evening. I don't know how to fix it so I am going to assume that it just doesn't want to work anymore and it's being pissy. Probably not the case but let's pretend. That's what I was doing all night, sewing my dress for the show, other things too but specfically my dress. That's the important part, it's purple with a big black rose, or it will be when it's done. I could be done with it, only my sewing machine doesn't want to work anymore.

I stayed home all night because I thought that I was going to go out to Picasso at Lapin Aguile only the people that I was supposed to go with went without me. I couldn't get a hold of Allison and no one called me. I should be cleaning up and going to sleep but I can't bring myself to do anything by wallow in my own pity. And watch Annie Hall. Woody Allen is more neurotic than me. It somehow makes me feel slightly better. I need to feel better, I eat entirely too much pizza... I'd much rather feel better than fat. Actually right now I'd prefer unattractive and boring to fat...

tomorrow I'll go to star systems, watch heavily made up girls shake hips they don't have then go watch my friends little sister so she can have sex with her boyfriend and/or see the passion of the christ... those two don't seem to go together...then I'm come home and read and go to sleep. This is what I do with my time. wow, I'm pathetic. It's not something that bothers me persay, in the way that the death penalty and reality shows bother me...it just bugs me. I don't want to be, I want to be cool and interesting. but I never have been. Not to anyone I don't think. I'm destined to be uncool and boring for the rest of my life. It's a lot to look forward to.

rehearsals start tuesday. At least then I won't notice that I am hopelessly boring. I'll be too busy to notice.