I need  a couple of things right now.
Some more time, a 20 oz coffee, a polaroid, my digital camera,  and a second job.
Right about now all of those things would be grand.

fuck my fucking life.  JUST AS I THOUGHT I HAD THIS PROJECT FIGURED OUT
something goes wrong, which of course, would be my computer.
fuck photoshop being damn near close to a million dollars and fuck this project being due tomorrow.
fuck waking up early and being a grumpy bitch .

UGH.

anyway, now that I got that off my chest, I found out a very not-so-valuable piece of information which is more sickening than anything. Today, february 13th, is also referred to as "valenSWINES day." In essence this so called holiday embodies the cheaters in our pathetic society; this is the night that they are supposed to take their other significant other out for some steak and dick. Hoorayy, lets hear it for the scum of the earth. As if infidelity isn't sickening enough, theres a politically incorrect holiday for it. How ironically politically correct. Allow me to elaborate. By naming the day before valentines day as the day for cheaters to get their dicks wet before schmoozing their "real" lover, we are in fact honoring their shitty morals. Just like we handed over a whole month to the blacks, we are providing them with a holiday of recognition; equal opportunity [for recognition] , for lack of a better phrase and brain power atm.  Lets hear it for our terribly backward culture.

So, after all of my bitching, procrastinating, stressing, smoking, whatever, I finally got my sketch for art 131 dunzoo. I finally figured what I can do so I can actually have this project complete by thursday at one o clock, so now I can stop stressing as much. Maybe Ill post the finished version on here, Idk.

However, from all of this stress I developed a stye in my right eye and its highly annoying and semi painful. My eye is tearing and throbbing and now all I want is two extra strength excederin, and a good nights rest. Oh yeah, and for my 8 AM to be cancelled.

Right now, I've got a killer headache and about as much patience as a small child throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. My body wants to lay down, my mind won't stop racing, and what good sense I have left about me is telling me to get something done for this art project that has to be done by thursday. 

Right now: my room smells like wood. my hair is static-y, the wind is making that creepy whistling noise, my heart is pounding because i have this crazy fear that I will look up and someone will be peering at me through my window, my temples are pounding, there is a pile bigger than me of laundry sitting right in the middle of the floor, there is some kind of spider on my ceiling, my heart is telling me to suck it up and make amends, and I have this crazy urge to go running until I can finally settle down again.

Breakdown of what is going on with me. I finally got a room, a raise in work, semi passing grades in college, a new boyfriend (okay, like a month ago), a good idea of what I plan on doing after this semester, and a concept of who I've become. That's pretty good, considering we're only a month and change into the new year!

I have my first project due for Art131, aka photoshop. I'm really unsure of what he wants us to do, and how many creative liberties he'll allow us to take. I've only had this guy for about three weeks now, I can't even pretend to know what he expects. I hope this guy will be a little more lenient with the grading than my photo prof.; that guy sucked more than the Michael Jordan at baseball.

I hope you've all realized it's 2008. I'm backtracking, but I still can't manage to wrap my brain around the issue. In less than a year and a half, I'll be 21, and then after that, the significance of birthdays is significantly decreased. Who wants to know that they are getting one year closer to 30, one year farther from youth? Highly depressing.

baby needs a new car, a new camera, another job.

This whole weekend, I spent with Matt. We didn't do much, just hung around which was perfect, because I've been exhausted.

Saturday I worked until 2, and then was supposed to drive my sister to some bowling alley so she could meet up with some boy she met at her All county concert. Stupid boy pussied out at the last minute. I should've told her that she can expect that 80% of the time. Girl needs to learn sometime; she's optimistic to the point where it breaks my heart.

School starts again, in two days. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know right now I'm grateful for the fact that I'll have something to do once again, but I know I will get sick of it reallll quick. I think I'm afraid that I'll fuck it up again.

I'm going to San Francisco the weekend after my birthday.  I'm thinking that I should set up an appt. with an advisor at SFSU  while I'm in the area.


Just a note: me+wine = bad news.

WHAT the FUCK is with all the biddies and their santa hats.?

You know you've reached an all time low when you're looking for those ridiculous surveys on myspace to fill out.

House arrest has been probably the shittiest punishment, ever, considering I don't have a room to hide away in. Friday, sucked. Got wasted in my own house, by myself, for lack of anything better to do, then went out for all of fifteen minutes, told matt to come over, and fell asleep before he even got here. Blacked out or something, because I don't even remember  laying down on my couch.  Saturday, much better, thanks to this loser I've been seeing for the past month or so. I swear to god, all this laying around doing nothing is killing me. I'm sleeping way too much and eating even less.

I got a ticket last Wednesday, expired inspection. What the hell, I didn't even know there was more than one sticker with a date on it on the windshield of my car. Turns out my car needed more work than I ever expected, three hundred and forty one dollars worth of work, to be exact. "Merry christmas Jamie, I hope you enjoy your gift.!" Thanks, mom and dad.

It's sunday and it definately feels more like a tuesday or wednesday.. actually, scratch that. If it was a Wednesday, I'd be getting shitfaced at Jackie Reilly's with some biddy and her boy Henry.  Imagine that.

Congratulations, mom.

You have officially made my life a living hell.

Realization for the day: JamieMarie is a complete and utter lush.

Hey, Jamie, Sick Life.  Booze, bitches and cigarettes. I read somewhere that excessive alcohol consumption is bad for your skin. I also read somewhere that Britney is pregnant again.

Work has been consuming my life, bitchy customers and long, low paid hours. I called a customer a cunt the other day. 'Tis the season!

 School is disastrous, aka, I hate NCC...along with all the other twenty thousand+ students there. I've been looking at SUNY Purchase, sick art program. I should start creating a portfolio but as of the moment I have zero dollars and no motivation.  I want my polaroid camera back.  I should probably just go buy a new one considering my old one is ...as good as dead.

I'm finally getting a room; parents are building me one in the garage. Now I actually have somewhere to hide, instead of constantly running out, wasting gas, money, and far too many cigarettes. Good looks.

fucking scream.