Defining Moments of My Life
boots are made for walking, and walking, and walking, and

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boots are made for walking, and walking, and walking, and
08.02.04 12:13 p.m.

Not much new to talk about. No new bruises, no new sexploits. Gary finally showed around ten fifteen, we broke up the bag and smoked one here, got cigarettes and got to the bar around 10:45. I signed up for a song and we came back to the car to smoke one. I was up in three people after signing up so it had to be quick. I wasn't nearly stoned enough cuz I was shaking through the whole song but there were only a couple times I was flat, other than that I made every person in that bar scream out my name, which is a feeling I like too much. After signing, we grabbed different people and went to the car again, and again when Tabitha and Bridgette got there, and again when they gave me a ride home. I'm not sure how fresh sheets got put on my bed but I guess I was the one that did it. I never got up to go with them to take Melissa to the airport either and I feel sorta bad abotu that, being rude, and also I was supposed to stay awake till dawn cuz now I have to work at 2am tonight and will be too tired to walk to work maybe. I actually am thinking that I should take a break from smoking... but I have half a bag left. I'm thinking of walking, first over to get gramma that ginger ale she wanted and then onto Geoff's, to take back the rest of his shit, and to smoke the rest of the bag with his roomies. I don't want Geoff to be there though, watching me smoke pot and probably drink beer with his roommates... oh yeah... yes I do.


Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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About Me
I am a bipolar genius, child abuse & addiction survivor, who is now a single mother who works 70 hours a week and has had gastric-bypass weight loss surgery a year ago. Wish me luck cuz I need it!!!

Examples of My Insanity
Dead On Mental Health Quiz
Tuna Noodle Casserole Story
Explaining Myselves
Biting Off Redneck's Finger
Got So Crazy Scratched Til I Bled
How I Found Nirvana
Leaving Lon After 7 Years
Bad Luck On 3 July 4ths
Random Craziness (FBI Please Disregard)
How I Ended Up A Junky
Almost Getting Raped by a Marine
Typical Weekend in Ohio
How Cobain Saved My Life


How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?


AFTER


WHAT'S MY NAME?!?