``musings and more, insanity galore

Sunday, November 09, 2008

"Hi, I found your number in the paper...it said you were looking for a compassionate lover..."

If you are responsible for this, you are so so so so so so dead. Totally not funny. As if some drunk guy at a pub calls me at 9.45 on a Saturday night...sigh. Why do I attract the psycho, screwed up sort of guys? The god of romance hates me. Curses on you, fate!

God Bless.

lovelove, Jess xxxx

PS. I am so screwed for this week. So so so so so so so so so screwed lah.

Labels: rambling, ranting, romance, saturday night, sleep

posted by jess *, @ 7:02:00 pm

jess;; eighteen. ib graduate. chronic sufferer of writer's block. french speaker. physics geek. lame to the log base e of thirty seven. often uses math to express the quantity of a certain emotion. or her sarcasm. or her decrease in iq in relation to spending time with her friends. mostly the latter. and where math fails, she writes poetry. because it's kind of hard to express unrequited lust and emotion in general in terms of math. although, life is rather like a sine graph, and how high you get is dependent on the dilation parallel to the x axis which can be determined by your life experiences...but jess doesn't think she's a nerd. she doesn't study enough. speaks often in the third person. thinks too much for her own good. listens to the same song one hundred times on repeat. because listening to a depressing song once just isn't enough. queen of innuendo. insane. wannabe psychiatrist. she thinks. honestly, she has no clue what she wants to do with her life. has feminist tendencies. Christian. loves australian football. peter wentz's guitar. toby rand's tambourine. loves singing but can't hold a note. so, instead, she loves her singers. and nice eyes. addictive personality, permanently worried about something. also permanently on guilt trips. because she's very good at that. generally changes her mind thirty seven times. daughter of overprotective parents. happy emo. the jesster. loves lyrics more than music. would describe her life with the lyrics to self-conclusion by the spill canvas. is sandra's sexy bitch. solitaire slut. moody cow. has crazy-ass friends. is slowly working on a manuscript. normally the former. chocoholic. creative. sketches all the time. when she's not writing. is bringing sexy back. wants to live in paris. in the chateau du versailles. and ride a moped. has spent two nights in paris. seems to always be involved in love triangles, or friendship triangles, or something that requires her to stay up at night worrying because she freaks out that it's her fault. which is a little irrational. coincidentally, that's her middle name. attention whore. loves musicals and acting. writes poetry whenever she's emotional and always starts crying. always. is obsessed with snape and the sex god that is alan rickman. hates showing weakness. loves aladdin. instinctively answers in french. gives objects unoriginal names. such as monsieur vache for her cow wrist pad. actually names and talks to inanimate objects. has a twin. in fact, she has many twins. questions sincerity by the minute. always needs sleep. hopeless romantic. procrastinator. overuses asterisks in msn conversations. narcissist. writes when she's emotional. loves hugs and being held. is a sentimental sort of person. pretty sure she thinks too much. believes that eyes are the window to the soul. stubborn. is pretty much insane, but life is too short to waste being angry. even when some deserve it. has the most amazing friends in the world. is going to be a famous playwright, just you wait.