elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- vibrators and diplomas. I'm broke, right? Sadly, extravagantly broke. So I did the sensible thing all people with no money do. I bought a vibrator. It's pretty and has 9 settings and looks like a mermaid and is teal. Hee! I am excited - though not like that, since my roommate is home, and has his friend over, watching one of my movies. And the buzzing might alert them. But this post isn't just about sex toys, though I bet you wish it was, don't you? No, this is a post of many things. Including sex toys. I really don't want to have a roommate anymore. I want to live by myself so desperately I have it half in mind to just kill him one night in his sleep and wait for someone to notice. Ha, ha. kidding. But really. I'm sick of having someone who lives in my house but does no work, is loud when I'm sleeping, never does dishes or cleans anything, and uses my stuff like it's his own. And it's not. It's my stuff. I share pretty freely, if people ask, or if I volunteer. I like giving things and sharing things. But they have to acknowledge that it's mine in the first place. I want. To live. By. Myself. I am so freaking broke. I won't be able to afford living on my own for years. Even in this place, which I kind of sort of own but still have to give rent to my dad for. - I had a day off today; a day off in which I usually spend galavanting with my fun friends and generally having a rocking good time. Instead, I hung out with my dull as cracker friends. And we had fun - we bought sex toys, how can that not be fun? - but still. Dullllll. Dull like toast. Oh, I see I already said 'dull like crackers'. Which is duller, toast, or crackers? crackers you can put things on, but, same with toast. Toast, you have the exciting possibility of it becoming toast from bread, but since it seems to already be toast in this scenario. I'll say. Crackers. Toast. Yeah, toast is more dull. Toast. - Did I mention I'm broke? Cause I am. Send me money! I need to buy more sex toys! - Also, I graduated. I now have a B.A. after my name, and my lifelong dream is complete. I've always wanted to have letters after my name. And not made up ones. Of course, it would have been nice had my university *told* me I had graduated. In May. I found out a few days ago, when I went up to the registrar's counter to ask about registration, and they asked me if I had come to pick up my diploma. "Diploma?" I asked. "But, I didn't graduate." "Well, it says here you did." "Um. No." "Hold on a minute." He goes away. I tear up. I giggle. I didn't graduate! They would have told me! Who doesn't tell someone when they graduate? He comes back. Hands me an envelope, which contains my diploma. "Um, sorry," he says. They SUCK. I am so, so angry, but, hey. I graduated, that's something. Not like I'm not going back in a month, but, fuck man, it's unnecessary. Except for the whole needing a student loan thing, and the whole needing credits for grad school, thing, etc, etc. I could go on, but I'm in a bad mood because of my roommate and my stupid boring friends and I have ten stitches in my thigh and I'm not testing my new vibrator right now and I haven't gotten graduation presents cause they didn't tell me I graduated. 9:39 p.m. - 2002-07-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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