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enamouredI think I am kind of a masochist in the guy arena.
I mean, let's face it. I always like the ones who would have no interest in me at all. And I constantly tell myself this and I totally know it, but I still persue. It's like, it's not even about the attempt or the hope that the Guy of the Moment will show some interest anymore. Oh no, it's not about that; it's more about me letting myself be delusional for awhile and then getting burned. I am starting to worry that on some crazy, subconcious level that I actually like this.
Okay, I exaggerate. I don't like it in the least. I hate it, and it sucks a lot.
But I digress. I have a history test tomorrow and I have to watch two of the videos from two of the chapters and review everything, because I've read all the chapters but I read them at the beginning of the semester. Then when I go home I have to do math homework and figure out when I'm going to clean my room, because it's scaring me a little. Then later, when all of that is done, I shall watch American Idol and mope some more about my constant persuit of guys/boys/men who don't think of me what I think of them. And I will work on the waxing melancholic here.
There's a weekday paper that comes out that I usually pick up and it had a wonderfully amusant commentary about Oscar fashion. I shall present it to you, with my smart-ass comments in parenthesis:
The Truth About the Red Carpet
--Oh, to be the clippers that buzzed Jake Gyllenhaal's head. He was a whole new brand of hottness. (HEE.)
--Kirsten Dunst looked freakish with her way-too-blond hair that didn't match her way-too-black lace gown. (BUURN!)
--Gisele Bundchen forgot to buy a dress for the ceremonies, so she wrapped herself in a tablecloth and ran out the door. (Snark!)
--Is it possible for Halle Berry to ever look bad? (I could beg to disagree, but I can't remember her looking impossibly bad, so... this is subject to potential future editing.)
--Did Hilary Swank get confused about the weather? Her gown was a near turtleneck in the front and near-crack-showing in the back. (Hee! Indeed, but I thought it was a rather pretty gown.)
--Wanted: another big movie for Catalina Sandino Moreno. She needs some cash to buy hips and fill out her butt-cupping, cellulite-exposing gown. Perhaps she should chat with Virginia Madsen, who is a bit too hippy for the metallic mermaid number she donned. (BUURN, part deux.)
--Scarlett Johannson, you forgot to comb your hair, dear. (BUURN, part trois.)
--Someone mistakenly told Renee Zellweger that the Oscars was a square dance being held in the little house on the prairie. (BUURN the fourth.)
I mean, let's face it. I always like the ones who would have no interest in me at all. And I constantly tell myself this and I totally know it, but I still persue. It's like, it's not even about the attempt or the hope that the Guy of the Moment will show some interest anymore. Oh no, it's not about that; it's more about me letting myself be delusional for awhile and then getting burned. I am starting to worry that on some crazy, subconcious level that I actually like this.
Okay, I exaggerate. I don't like it in the least. I hate it, and it sucks a lot.
But I digress. I have a history test tomorrow and I have to watch two of the videos from two of the chapters and review everything, because I've read all the chapters but I read them at the beginning of the semester. Then when I go home I have to do math homework and figure out when I'm going to clean my room, because it's scaring me a little. Then later, when all of that is done, I shall watch American Idol and mope some more about my constant persuit of guys/boys/men who don't think of me what I think of them. And I will work on the waxing melancholic here.
There's a weekday paper that comes out that I usually pick up and it had a wonderfully amusant commentary about Oscar fashion. I shall present it to you, with my smart-ass comments in parenthesis:
The Truth About the Red Carpet
--Oh, to be the clippers that buzzed Jake Gyllenhaal's head. He was a whole new brand of hottness. (HEE.)
--Kirsten Dunst looked freakish with her way-too-blond hair that didn't match her way-too-black lace gown. (BUURN!)
--Gisele Bundchen forgot to buy a dress for the ceremonies, so she wrapped herself in a tablecloth and ran out the door. (Snark!)
--Is it possible for Halle Berry to ever look bad? (I could beg to disagree, but I can't remember her looking impossibly bad, so... this is subject to potential future editing.)
--Did Hilary Swank get confused about the weather? Her gown was a near turtleneck in the front and near-crack-showing in the back. (Hee! Indeed, but I thought it was a rather pretty gown.)
--Wanted: another big movie for Catalina Sandino Moreno. She needs some cash to buy hips and fill out her butt-cupping, cellulite-exposing gown. Perhaps she should chat with Virginia Madsen, who is a bit too hippy for the metallic mermaid number she donned. (BUURN, part deux.)
--Scarlett Johannson, you forgot to comb your hair, dear. (BUURN, part trois.)
--Someone mistakenly told Renee Zellweger that the Oscars was a square dance being held in the little house on the prairie. (BUURN the fourth.)
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no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 05:53 pm (UTC)Kirsten looked like Debbie Harry. And Scarlett didn't look like Debbie but also had that white blonde hair. It looked... a'ight.
Renee looked dead (but her dress was fab)
Halle took my breath away.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 08:43 pm (UTC)or was that just me?
no subject
Date: 2005-02-28 11:16 pm (UTC)as I have the worst most heart shattering crush on a boy who works at the library, and although we talk all the time, and he comments when I don't come in daily ( i didnt see you at the library yesterday, he says!)
I STILL KNOW THAT I HAVE NO CHANCE WITH HIM.
what.so ever.
terribly depressing : (