then i uploaded a BUNCH of pictures of girls to pinterest. mila and helena and edie and pink and madonna. i don't know what the pinterest policy is on artistic nudity, we shall see.
the cam (http://www.fabulousdisaster.com/cam/index.html) has been on all day. mostly watching me. and i'm just sitting. not all that exciting. it's fun making doc jump around. there are three cams now. he never knows which one is on, or which computer is running it. heh. now he's asleep and i'm finally catching up on twitter. i have some photos to deal with. but not much more to do on the laptop. i have poems to input over on computer1, but i've been sitting there for the past two hours and i'm sore. so i'm gonna stay on the couch. maybe i'll add some more music videos to pinterest. only 30 or so people follow me, but i have a feeling that number is going to go down. i've pinned hundreds of images/videos in the last two days.
time for music. we watched the Torchwood marathon on BBCAmerica. now there is some documentary that doc put on about the pyramids. i'm in no mood to learn or think right now. music it is.
maybe i'll nap. i got a good, uninterrupted 8 hours sleep last night, thanks to seroquel. but i can't do that often. i really shouldn't be randomly taking an antipsychotic for sleep. especially on top of the antipsychotics i already take.
i have to start walking chewy twice a day again. he will not poop in the back yard. it's either the spare room or on a walk. so i'll take him on more walks. does me good. i'm on a weight loss kick right now. i'm really on the verge of working out. i've got to do something about my belly and muffin top. the rest of me is skinny-ish. i'm looking for thighs that don't rub together. and not to look pregnant when i'm laying on my side. ick. i had to delete a whole night's worth of pictures from the cam because i couldn't take the flab of me. i'm not concerned about actual poundage. i used to, got me frustrated. now i'm just cocerned with how i look and i could look a bit better.
that's right! i'm over compensating for my missing teeth by trying to make the rest of me perfect. i've been obsessing over my hair. i've kept it straight (and let me tell you, in this humidity, that was a task and a half) for over a week now, and i've become the most vain thing. i can't stop playing with it. i always knew i would love straight hair. but to be honest, i'd rather have my natural curls, i can straighten them more easily than i could properly curl my hair. and my hair has the perfect curl. it needs to be trimmed again. the layers are growing out.
i'm debating taking a Hookah Bath. that's a bath where i smoke a hookah, nothing more. i'm in the mood for something tropical and i think doc got some new hookah tobacco. i noticed new tins of it on the liquor shelf.
i'm putting off stuffing cigarettes. it was Zuma (my recently deceased online friend) that got me started doing that. gave me the idea, totally converted me away from pre-packed cigarettes. so every time i think of going over and stuffing, i get sad. and with the lighter mood stabilizer, the tears come too easily. i didn't cry for two years and now it seems i can't stop. i'm not sad apart from the Zuma thing. it's just there are sayings or songs or subjects that bring the tears up.
it's amazing how motivated i am. i have driven doc to action. tomorrow at 7am we are going to storage. he bought the big bolt cutters (still WAY cheaper than paying them to cut the lock), since we have given up hope of finding the keys (that will reappear once we cut the lock). i want my books and my clothes. i'll be using the book case in the spare room, can't be helped. and my missing clothes have GOT to be in there. there is no way in hell i would have given the lot away. that will put off the wanting to shop for jeans. plus, it's getting warm here again this week, so i can wear shorts and long skirts. i can't wait until tights weather, when i can break out the mini dresses.
this makes my main goal BOOTS. i have two pair of high heel boots. two pair of doc marten's. a pair of cowboy boots i don't wear, i just keep because they were so expensive and they do look good on me and you just never know when you'll need them. a pair of chuck taylor low top wanna-bes. i think that's it. i don't care if they are cheap . . . just something in style for the next couple of seasons. get me through the winter and spring in style, and then i'll go back to my tshirt/jeans/wife-beater/skirt combos for summer.
who am i? who is typing this? the chick who let psycho cunt do my make up for the slam. BIG MISTAKE, i looked like a clown. i do my make up much better. a bit of mascara, some eye liner, and out the door. none of this fancy blending and shading and shite. i'm not a canvas. if i wanted to be, i would trust someone and make the leap and get tattooed. i could start with getting the one on my foot redone. the one i did myself while i was on acid in a snowbank, naked. those were the days. *shakes head to snap out of it*
and of course the artist i did trust is on TV now (History channel, "Bad Ink", with Dirk Vermin). i'm glad for him, but it sucks to be me. i was introduced to him and to Ruckus, but i didn't fawn over them or hang around being a groupie. and i wasn't a cool enough chick not to be a girl. if that makes sense. always skirting the ragged edges of the truly cool kids. someday i will find someone i can trust enough to ink me, and then i'll just have to make up my mind what i want.
obviously, the first thought is to go for my arms, cover the scars. or illustrate around them. draw away from them. but i have to be really sure about what i want on my arms, and it can't be too fine in detail. my arms get the most sun and are mostly scar tissue. very hard to work with and shitty looking as a canvas. i like the line tattoo i found (http://www.pinterest.com/pin/412360909602122703/). simple and hard to fuck up. i'll keep looking and someday book an appointment, hopefully before Vermin retires rich and famous.