Rants & Raves

Why do I get the feeling I am the only webdesigner-slash-writer who isn't capable of "inventing" a friggin layout for my own journal-slash-blog-slash-crap? My fingers are itching for a layout. In a couple of weeks, (well, 2 weeks approximately if not exact) I'll be turning eighteen. And still, I do not have a goddamn layout. Merde.merde.merde. God works in mysterious ways. I hope, i wish, i pray, I would get my laptop.

It is still raining outside however, I am still procrastinating (by writing nonsense) instead of researching for my Drug Study, which is composed of a gazillion drugs I'm supposed to memorize by tomorrow. So anyway, as I started saying earlier, I will be turning eighteen, I still do not have a life. My aunt called me up out of the blue to tell me that I'm actually going to have a debut. My jaw dropped. Literally. How in Mrs. Smith's pantyshorts am I going to come up with party ideas in two weeks. Plus I have a whole bunch of workload that wouldn't even fit my schedule. Minus more sleep hours for me then. Well, I managed to draw up a list of people that would hopefully come. I dunno. Sixty. seventy. tops. I don't even feel like partying. I had wanted to hear bands at my so-called party. Well, I guess things would be different. Note to self: Hire party people and put party plan into action.

I slept the whole day after duty yesterday. Was too lazy to get up to buy groceries with Irish. Chris, my supposed "other-half", was supposed to come but didn't. I don't know what is up with guys these days. They ditch you, for countless hours of playing computer games, which I really wouldn't mind if it were me playing. I'd looooooooove to get my hands on my computer, but noooo, it's halfway across the gulf. But at least it's fine, he called me up just to tell me. Too bored to get up anyway. Irish had to convince me that I do not have junkfood stash to make me get up. Again, I had to drag my butt all the way to RP with Irish, and we were running like hell in the middle of Pedro Gil; we both are such ditzes when crossing the street...