About Me

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Los Angeles, California, United States
Wish I lived on Love Street. Not anybody special, but I'm not one that you'll easily forget. Got a whole year and and some of clean living, and it's still weird sometimes. I still don't have a drivers' license...so that technically makes me the most pointless sober person/friend in the world..but I promise I'll carry your drunkass over my shoulder along the 405 if I have to. I have some bad tattoos, and I have some good ones. I'll never have enough. Always wanting to explore, yet I seldom get the opportunity to do so. There's always sand on my floor. I like cherry chapstick, leather bound journals, cheap eye liner, pawn shop jewelry, and my boyfriend's sweatshirts. I enjoy the finer things that life has to offer...but I treasure the cheapest as well. I love my city.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Weekend Homework

Well I guess if I did my homework during the week it wouldn't be this way....but what else is there to do in Camarillo when you don't have a car, or reasonable public transportation system? Honestly, the bus from my campus to anywhere stops running after 5 on Saturdays, and forget about Sundays... I actually got a ride home on Wednesday night. I live really close to my school, but not close enough to commute.

I like coming home to my own room....even though I have my own room at school, but you understand what I mean right? I keep all my books here at home, and my bed is bigger here...and there's food in the kitchen! Not to forget the fact that I have a huge family. That's why I didn't really want to venture off too far. I had already been sent away to boarding school for 9th-10th grade and I really missed out on a lot of stuff. I guess as the oldest sibling I feel I have a responsibility to my family ... you know, just to be there when shit hits the fan. My Gran (dad's mom) isn't doing so hot, and my mom can always use an extra hand on the weekends.

I also sortof feel like I owe my family a hell of a lot because of my past. I was a horrible person, really, I just don't know if it's even right that I put down half of the extent of my old self. I even have trouble telling the truth to my own therapist, believe it or not. Maybe in good time, as long as I never give out my real name or info I guess you can't really do anything to me. That's the best thing about confiding in a stranger.

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