I feel like I'm 12. I'm not old enough to appreciate makeup, clothing and malling yet, but past barbies and playgrounds. That precarious in-between, the almost a teen but not quite, almost a kid but realizing that I'm on the treshold of becoming more. Yeah, the time in my life when watching television was all I felt safe doing. OK, needless to point out that I'm 19 and not 12... OK, so I don't even really feel like I'm in some awkward sandtrap. But my life has been woven into what show is on next. Sidenote: speaking of woven, as I type this, a spider is outside my window, weaving a silken trap around it's lunch. Some nondescript, dead, dead little bug. Anyhoo, I live in my pajamas and the greatest obstacle of my days is whether or not Discovery Health Channel, TLC, WE, Oxygen, Disney or the other channels on my watchlist will show programs I actually want to see. DVR has been my constant companion. It's all. So. Sad (I mean, come on! My last two posts were basically about Glee and nothing else!). In any case, I read too, so that makes it about half an inch less pathetic.
Bah.
Toodle Pip.
maybe if you got a job it'd go by faster and you'd feel more satisfied, mah dear carrot flesh~
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