Loser hai hum.

From the time we've all been little kids, we've been fascinated by Christmas. It's one of those holidays that's gone beyond religion and into regular consciousness, and this year, there are no lights and there's no hoopla. Which really puts me off. My parents stopped giving me Christmas presents after they told me Santa doesn't exist, and after a point I stopped caring too, but I just really LIKE presents. Christmas is an excuse. I want to go to stores and make a list of people and put thought into it and all of that. I want fake/real snow and trala-lalala-lalala. I want Park Street, I want barbecue, I want a movie I haven't watched before and am guaranteed to like, I want to be less of a hermit tonight.

And I could really use an iPod, now that my cell phone has conked and I'm back again to the Nokia 1100. That phone is joining the list of things that'll survive the Apocalypse. Along with cockroaches, my cockroach-like grandmother, and Twinkies. 

Someone tell my grandmum to screw off, like, SERIOUSLY. She has to stop bonding with me, my head might explode. It might explode anyway, what with this retarded cold. But I just liked it better when she didn't give a flying fuck about me. Those were the days.

I'm mortally afraid I'm turning into a bitter bitch who can't stop waving her arms around, trying to gather attention with my mouth in a perpetual grimace. It's only fun to be antisocial when there are social events to be ignored. Right now I'm just a loser.