• "I don't want to be here."
• "You won't teach us how to spin on our heads even though it's still day one and none of us can even dance yet."
• "You won't let us compete even though we just learned how to do the Washing Machine a week ago."

Like the colors of my mind.

The wanting of what one can not have is a powerful act.
If you wanted it even slightly before, now you want it exponentially more.
If you didn't want it at all, now you're eyes have been opened.
You want all of it.
And I want all of it.
I want it exponentially more.
But I don't deserve something so good.
Because I'm a bitch.
A user.
A horrible girl who would only bring pain to somewhere pain has no need to be.
Don't love me.
Don't even like me.
Don't bother listening to me.

All will be as it was.
As it should be.

I know I shouldn't get upset with things people have to say about me. As a 'grown woman' I should be able to brush off anything I hear from another person. Sadly... I'm not all that grown.

Now, the amount of people coming from the woodworks and the faucets and leaking from the ceiling telling people how much of a user I am is greatly upsetting to me. Who's heads have I been messing with?

I'm just leading dudes by the nose left and right with no regard for their feelings at all.

Don't fuck with Ashley, because she's just playing games. She'll fuck a niggas head up.

What kind of person do people think I am? All the more incentive to get the hell out of Georgia. Maybe people somewhere else I go won't think of me as such a using ass hoe.

Here's to hoping.

"Ashley! The doctor gave me the - ahhh - the all clear. So monday will be your last day. If you want to do it, let me know, if not then - ahh - just let me know."

Roy, I'm not sure if I had time to tell you this before...

I refuse to write about it.

Moving the fuck on...

The General Plan:

To fuck. Done.

Step 1:
Convince female that they are special. Tell them things they want to hear in order to gain their trust. Make them like you. Tell them 'secrets,' things that they believe you've never told anyone else. Let them know how much you love them. Convince them that they feel the same.

Step 2:
Go to great lengths in order to be around the female. Fly, swim, crawl, make them drive 14 hours. Just be in general vicinity of female.

Step 3:
Fuck.

Step 4:
Act like nothing ever happened. Cut contact with said female. There are more females to unleash the plan on. The feelings of the previous female are no longer of any concern.

Nothing of value was lost.

I've wanted this costume for the past 3 years.

I'm just saying.

My mom found a camera in the basement of my aunt's new house. Its pretty much some old Canon PowerShot something something piece of trash that still runs on 2 AAbatteries.



I love it.

Fuck the fancy Nikon shit. This camera and its 4x zoom and 7.1 megapixels are the truth.
FOR TRUTH.

I'm heartbroken.

Cass: I like how he's staring right at your chest.
Ashley: He knew what was up.

Okay, seriously, I want this hoodie really badly. Like, really, really badly. Look at it!

Not only is it a band hoodie, something I haven't had since that one incident where someone stole my Fullmetal Alchemist hoodie in the 11th grade (the bombest hoodie to ever grace Towers High School, I must say), but it's a Dillinger Escape Plan hoodie.

DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN HOODIE.

Aka, the hoodie of my favorie band (of the moment). I want this hoodie. And I'm going to get it. Even if it is $80.00. I have plans for my life this winter and it includes being warm with a book by the fire (what fire?!) in a hoodie that says DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN in a vertical fashion.

I may be completely late in learning this, but I can’t help but think that this is how all females should feel.

• I hate my job. I used to love it, however, I suppose that was back when I was working at the other Leslie's in Stone Mountain. Maybe it was the atmosphere of not being inside of a cluttered shopping center. Maybe it was the fact that I was able to tolerate my co-workers for extended periods of time.  I don't know. I just loathe working at the Decatur store. It's lame.

• I hate being stood up. With certain situations. I accept the hands that I am dealt, and in this one, I accept it slightly less gracefully than I should, but it is accepted nonetheless. Over the past month, I have been stood up three times with no explanation from three different people, and none of it was ever even for a date. RJ stood me up this weekend. Why? Who knows. We were just supposed to hang out and watch a crap movie, but answering the phone was just not on his agenda. It would have at least been more polite to call me back and say, "I don't feel like it today." I wasn't doing to drop down dead from lack of contact. Danny! even stood me up on his birthday. How graceful. I have honestly decided that no fucks will further be given. I honestly don't have the energy to care anymore.

• I hate the fact that Adam Homer Lawson is currently in possession of my soul. Not even figuratively. I'm being literal. I made a book laced with little bits of my life and soul and gave it to him like a complete idiot. I made it for him, of course, but if I knew that he was going to be so completely ungrateful for the time and energy it takes to make an entire fucking book, then I would have kept the shit for myself. I honestly want it back. He hasn't said as much as a word about it. Not a, "thanks, this is kind of nice," not a "oh, wow, what was living in your locker when you were 15 that you so carefully wrote about," not even a, "this is kind of lame." I would have accepted anything to at least let me know that my words were even read. But no, I've got nothing. Seriously. Fuck that guy.

First order of business: My hair is now short and some variation of red and brown. I'm not entirely sure which it is as of yet, but you get the point.

This is the worst picture ever taken of me bee-tee-dubbs. I really wish Paul would learn how to listen to people and take this shit off Facebook. I really don't need people seeing this. I'm only putting it on LiveJournal because it's not like anyone gives a shit what I say here, anyway.


Second order of business: I have come to the conclusion that I officially hate my job. Hatred. I really had working at the Decatur Leslie's. You wouldn't think that sitting around on your ass all day reading would suck so much, but you thought wrong. So very wrong.



Third order of business: I would imagine that running away to Denver would be a rather decent change of pace at the current moment. The constant reminder of being lame as shit and doing nothing in Georgia is really not what I want out of life. Not that I want to move to Denver and become a VetTech... but at least its fucking something.

It looks nice enough there...


Fourth order of business: Tech N9ne and Circa Survive are coming next month (not together), Dragon*Con and AWA are both this month, and Gavin Castleton has a new album coming out. At least these things I can look forward to.


Fifth order of business: Today I bought shoes that are just too damn high to stand in let alone take a walk in. They are going to be promptly returned for a nice pair of sensible boots. I'm sorry shoes.