Dear iTunes,

Thanks ever so much for randomly removing 2/3 of the library. (~3100 songs to 992) Fortunately, you didn't actually delete anything, and I just get to re-add TWO THOUSAND SONGS to you. Thanks also for misplacing all the playlists. Yes, even the ones that you come with. Genius! Now I get to spend the next who-knows-how-long putting all my music back in you, BACKING UP THE LIBRARY THIS TIME HURF DURF, and reinstalling you, because you're an untrustworthy bastard. Good job! Maybe we'll even get this done tonight!

FUCK YOU WHARRGARBL ETC,
Sparky

P.S. At least I don't have to redownload podcasts, reupload CDs, or repurchase anything from the shitty Store. You just hid all of that in a folder, which I found. Consider yourself lucky.

Dear Universe,

SDGKJSDFKL;JASDLK;JSDGSDSDFLKJFD;KLJSDFKL;FASD But then on the other hand, O;ADIHGADFKL;GNADFK;LNGAEKL;GTNWEKL'NAGL'NKVASD And furthermore AEKGJHASDJK;HG;ASDJKHJKLSDHJKLHSDGHKJSDGSD;KGHSDAJKHGSKL;HG;SDKLHGKL;SDHKL;JENGFKLSDNGKLNASDGNKLKL;NSDG In conclusion, [censored].

Thank you for your time and consideration,
This One Over Here

P.S.-- I still want a ponymotorcycle. Would you be willing to trade one for this breakdown I've been having? It's not in my size, and the color's all wrong.

Ugh. Just ugh.

So, Emily and I had planned to hang out today. You know, get together, watch a movie or something, and eat some cake in honor of Singles Awareness Day (she has a boyfriend, but he's working today). Great, right? Well, no, not quite. See, in my excitement, I managed to forget that Emily is notorious for not following through on plans. Basically, if you go out of your way to make arrangements, she won't show up. Which would be less offensive if she would actually tell you she couldn't make it. But no. I had to call her, only to hear "whoops my grandmother wants to do something, sorry." But hey, Emily's family is batshit insane, so you can't really argue with them. So, not the worst thing ever.

But. Then I realized something. A large percentage of my friends do this to me. I can think of a small handful who haven't, and they probably just haven't had a chance to do so yet. I think I must be the backup plan friend or something. I mean, I don't have a problem with people being busy and having other things to do. That's called life. But when it's a pretty constant pattern, and you won't even tell me you can't make it, I can't really help feeling like I'm the only one placing any value on the friendship.

And if anybody actually reads this and is wondering if I'm talking about you, well. Have you repeatedly made plans with me and cancelled without warning or telling me? If you've had to cancel, but you did tell me, I'm not talking about you (I know this is for at least one person on here). If you actually hang out with me when you say you're going to, I'm not talking about you. If maybe you've done this once or twice, I'm not talking about you, but for god/dess/es/whatever's sake tell me when you have to cancel. I don't even care what the reason is, I just need to know if something's come up. I might be kinda sad if you have to cancel, but it's much better than not telling me and thinking I won't notice or whatever. Then if you keep doing that, I'm gonna end up thinking you're ditching me. And hey, if you don't wanna hang out with me? Don't fucking make plans to hang out with me. Just say you can't. I may not catch on that you don't want to hang out with me, but at least you won't be forced to spend time with me, right?

If you are, or think you are, one of the people I'm talking about, and would like to know how to "fix it" or whatever? All you have to do is tell me something's come up. Don't wait for me to come find you, put on your grown-up underwear and let me know. And if you've been doing this to someone else? Same fucking thing. It really isn't that hard to do, and leaving people in the lurch like that is not only extremely rude, but it makes the person you're doing it to feel like you don't actually like them or want to spend time with them.

It's pretty sad that the only person who wants to hang out with me today is my mom. (I love my mom, but I'm just saying.) Well, she and I are gonna get some Chinese food and eat a VDay cake! And I'm gonna play video games.

Happy motherfucking Valentine's Day.

EDIT: Fffffff, bahahahahahahaha. Okay, so apparently all I needed to do was complain about it. Emily just called and said she's coming over in a bit. Working the card section of Walmart on Valentine's Day gave her a headache (gee, how shocking), which she used to get out of the plans with her grandmother. So once she's gotten it to calm down/let the pain meds kick in, she's gonna come over and play video games or whatever. It seems Emily only shows up when you don't expect her, lawls.

Ugh, 2009. 2009 is already fired. Well, originally, I was just gonna link to James's(eseses) entry about it, but then I typed all this word vomit. So enjoy. And I don't care that it's a block paragraph. Maybe I'll fix it later and maybe I'll win a million dollars and a pony.

Yuck. I'm all sick, but not really. I think it's a combination of slightly sick to begin with +not enough sleep +not enough food/water +too much standing around/browsing. It equaled me being all sick by the time Emmy and I actually got over to his apartment. So yeah. And then everybody else had something else to do, apparently (good job not being asshats, guys... oh wait. 8D I'm sick, I can say whatever I want. Lemme alone.). So the three of us Steak 'n' Shake, where... they decided not to serve us! I was really nauseous, and wanted some water, but nooooo. Eventually we left and went to Wendy's. (As we left, I saw a family sitting behind us that had only water. They looked like they wanted to leave too, poor things.) Wendy's was okay. So then we went to the theater, waited in line for waaaaay too fucking long (standing made me feel worse, as did smelling the popcorn, yay), and then goti nto the theater... only to find that the seats were so goddamned small that we couldn't sit in them. Seriously. Even wee Emmy was like "these seats are tiny D: " and I was all "I feel like spew and I don't wanna sit on the floor." So we left (for I am the fun-killer, huzzah). I didn't really care about being out the money I paid, but James tried to get a refund. Tried. I should've thrown up on the cashier/clerk-girl's shoes. What a bitch. So then we just went to Books-A-Million and Toys R Us. And stood around/browsed more, which made me feel worse. Ugh. Emmy kept trying to give us "alone time," but it's a store. So yeah. No. (btw, I still hate that Books-s-Million.) And then I just couldn't do it anymore, so we all went home. Blech.

I feel slightly better now-- a little less like death warmed over-- but I still just want to curl up and die somewhere. Ugh. Managed to eat, though. Feel feverish, but am not. Oh, and I'm kind of shaky. And cold, except when I'm hot. Yay. ;_;

At least the CD was passable. That's good. (And I'm gonna get some of that damn cocoa one of these days, lawls.)

EDIT: Goddamn, I just wanna whine about being sick, Mom. I don't think there's actually anything to be done about it. And the next family member that calls me "love" is getting punched in the mouth, set on fire, dropkicked into a pile of angry untrained pitbulls, and then thrown in a dumpster. It's not cute, or sweet, or familial, or whatever you think it is. It's goddamned motherfucking creepy, and it makes me uncomfortable. And we're not even British. I would understand if we were British. But we are not. So stop. I am not your "love." I am your relative. Stop it. >:( (PS- how the hell do I tell them not to call me that anymore? Not that I think they would, but you never know, I guess. Goddamn.)

...Hahaha, I run on rage and the despair of small children. I perked up quite a bit while bitching just now. Raaaaaaaaah.

An 8-10 page paper. A 3-4 page paper. A 1-2 page paper. A 5 minute presentation. A chapter test. All of these are this week. Oh good goddamn.


But at least I have chickena Scarecrow icon.