Woo!

Julian just called me to let me know that I got my results in the mail today (he has the mailbox key, so he checks it) and it all came out negative. ROCK ON! So, this Monday, I am heading down to the school district offices and get my shit together. Aaand, I also got my DVD that Julian got me for my birthday. Which DVD? I DON'T KNOW! I've been trying to guess. I've asked for clues and all I got was 90's, not a cartoon, and it will make me say, "Oh yeeeeeah! OMG!" I dunno what it is. But I will find out tomorrow. I'd post more, but blah. Tired and busy.

I HATE hay fever.

I've been struggling with my allergies for weeks now. It got bad this past week and I have been trying to take care of myself, but not good enough. I hate taking pills now (except for Vicodin). I just got my first paycheck yesterday. That was cool. Mom's in town and took Mari away for a few days. Got her some clothes. Bought me a top. I disliked it so I traded it for something else. Gave me $100 for my birthday (which is soon). I am using that for my bills. I've been very burnt out. Very weak. Sick. I dunno what is up, but I hope I get better. I should be getting my chest x-ray results next week. Hope.

Hmm. Everything is great but not. But more so great than not. :)

Listening to Bread.

Bread is good. Great, even. I like Bread.

I'm going to bust down into some trendy salon and ask the first person I see, "Hey. Can you work maybe a foot-plus length of hair into three, maybe four inches of hair?" Then that person will look at me funny for a split second and ask, "Well, let's see what you've got here, ya?"

And I will then show that peron what I did to my hair over a year ago. Then she or he will give me two options: wait until your short hair grows longer or we can cut it all off.

Cut if all off, please!

After, I will pout about how short my hair is and how I wish it would be longer. Then I can bitch about that and so on. Yey. Maybe they can do some cutesy-cool cut. I dunno.

Bill, Grandpa, and Harold should be here (well, at least Bill) around midnight. Back from their trip to Italy/Egypt/Other places. Patrick is picking them up and has called Sandy about... oh, 8 times. I think. I lost count.

Blah! Bed.