2001-06-04 - 10:45 p.m.
I think I ate some lead paint chips recently because I did about 9,000 retarded things today, including sending a fax backwards TWICE, "losing" a bag of chocolate chips IN THE CABINET, and.. something gross involving feminine hygeine product improvisation. Oh, and when a greenpeace worker tried to stop me on the street to ask me questions about litter or something else greenpeacey, I grunted something unintelligable and austrolopithican at him because at that moment I forgot how to use the English language.
Watching the Tonys last night, I got really agitated and disturbed and had to hide in Kiley's Secret Reading Room (ie the storage space under the stairs DON"T TELL ANYONE OR ELSE) and fume quietly. I hate how this ceremony has elicited the exact same reaction in me since I was around ten, and not just because it's dorky and always super predictable. I know it's defeatist and a self-fufilling prophesy to say this, but I feel like I've made so many bad choices in the past few years, and am so unconfident and awkward and scared, I'll never get to do any of the things I've always wanted to do. Ok, a number of sixteen-year-olds I know, in the suburbs, are a billion percent more on their way to having successful performing arts careers than I ever will be.
I also think I'm getting some sort of grandmother syndrome, because I can't stop baking cookies for Shawn. Not even for me. I eat like two and make him eat the rest. I'm just obsessed with it. Maybe when I don't have enough sex I compensate with baking.
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