11.28.03 :: 5:53 pm

Ahhh another Friday night in a long line of Friday nights in New York City and I've snared myself a date and if nothing else, I'll wind up pleasantly intoximacated.

At least this gives me reason to exfoliate and put on a new sweater.

The little things, people. I'm barely hanging on to my sanity here.

I need an all-girl sleepover or something. I feel completely abnormal in my own body recently. Like I'm guiding this strange vehicle and my eyes are windshields.

And, though I shouldn't have, I sneaked a peek at the ex's new girlfriend's online journal and it's worse than I thought.

Well, worse for her, better for me. She is either pretending to be as stupid as she looks, or she is writing at a fourth grade level.

I give any of you permission to hunt me down and force a trepanation upon me if I ever use emoticons up in this piece.

Which proves my theory that breast implants and mental dwarfism go hand in hand, skipping down the streets in all their mouth-breathing, mongoloid glory.

Honestly? My ex is never going to move out of adolescence. It's a very good thing we did not marry.

Someone is seriously looking out for my ungrateful ass.

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