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|SepiaFlamingo (profile) wrote, |
on 4-21-2004 at 9:03pm
|Current mood: bouncy
Music: "The Walk" - The Cure
Subject: Robert Smith's Birthday. Everybody put on their fake smiles and smoke your words to clouds.
|No sunshine jelly tonight, just sweet-simpled updates:
Whew. Yesterday I won't even bother reporting. Scott and his 4/20 rituals left my clothes and hair smelling worse than a heavily populated urban area's dump on a hot day. I know now to better off just stay home. Or rather, in my closet being how my house smelled no different...
Onward, I get to bake a cake Friday! Or more accurately, I get to help bake a cake. Come to think of it, I'm not sure just what type of cake it is, but I probably wont eat any of it anyway seeing how I'm suppose to be making it for Alex. I promised him I'd make it if he kept the lead on the 4x4 relay, and he did, so cake it is. He'll be coming over when I'm done, (( however long it takes to bake a cake )) and we're suppose to watch some movie of his I've never heard of.
Saturday morning I'll be running if it's nice outside. It's a really nice trail that I'll go on with Ryan, Stevann, and Ammy. Maybe Corinne, but I need to ask her if she's up to it. Apparently the trail is 3.5 miles and leads to a swimming pool when you take a left by that Tarrot-Card place.
Saturday afternoon-night I have plans to go to Kelly's((some girl I barely know)) surprise birthday party, but I'm not sure how dedicated I am on that. Plus, I have no money to buy her a gift and would have to make her some cheap-homemade card and necklace to go with it.
Sunday...I'm not doing anything on Sunday yet. I'll probably sit at home all day on the computer, like what I'm doing right now.
Monday is my birthday. Nothing much to build with that. I'll get a card from my grandmother saying how proud she is of me for turning seven, and a lighter from my dad congradulating my 23rd with him scolding me on why I'm not out of the house by now. Or at least that's how it went last year...
And finally, this journal will be going to pieces since, as stated before, I have no money and won't be paying the two-dollar fee. Unless some magical wonder from nowhere special accidently puts my name on their envelope, it's gone.
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