for a week of my life i decided that i should write children stories. it was sure way to kill two birds with one stone. i could write and illustrate, thus making my mom happy that i was using my skills. this was a great idea until i remembered that i hated children.

well, i don’t really hate children. i just don’t like them a lot. always throwing their food at people. crying to eat, then crying because they want peas instead of carrots, then crying because they think its fun, and they’re bored.

this boy will touch me. then he blames it on the fact that he’s bored. i’m sure that he could preoccupy himself with something else. he doesn’t have to touch me. but like a little kid screams and kicks and wails for no reason- this boy exists.

i talk about love a lot. i dont really know what it is, and i think thats why i say it all the time. i enjoy thinking about it, like it’s some strange alien growing outside of the bubble that is my life, and i will never meet it. my boss called me “love obsessed” today. i might be.

i’m not in love. i love my dog. my parents sometimes. my sisters. especially my sister jane. i have a favorite sister. i love britney spears. i love clipping my toenails. i love singing songs that i know all the wrong words too. i love kissing. i love insane people. i love talking in my car. i love smiling. i love love. it’s true. i love the idea of love. i’m obsessed.

but i don’t think i could let myself ever “fall in love,” i don’t even think “falling for someone” exists. i think that “loving someone despite of how much they suck” exists. but falling head over heals doesn’t even make sense. sounds painful. sounds unnattractive. i don’t think that there is one person for anyone, but i do believe that finding someone to just stop the world with, is hard to find.

there’s romance in me. like the snow patrol song, “chasing cars”. i put it on this cd for a boy i liked, and he played it for his girlfriend. ouch. but i’m young. i bounce back. i still put my soul out there. i’m lactose intolerant and have cavities on all of my molars and i still ate ice cream today. i’m dangerous. danger is my middle name.

actually it’s christina. with a ch. christi-an. i mean na. my mom wanted me to love jesus. she also wanted me to use my skills. my drawing, writing, artistic skills. i guess this is for her. all this shit i write on the internet is for my mother. my crazy mom. like mother like daughter.

i hate litte kids.