Those lyrics are my legacy. What he sings about is the very thing that frustrates me every single day, being tongue-tied and obsessed. AAH.

Notice anything different? :P I wouldn't technically call it a layout, as much as I would "Crys fucking around with the colours and measurements and hoping it works". If something isn't right or if the green and red are causing seizures or something, let me know. I also re-vamped the GUESTBOOK - it's now super-sexy and Stacy-fied! Go see and sign!

So, the layout: it's Stacy Keibler, the goddess with the 42.5 inches of leg. Man, that's crazy. This layout took me forever to make, even though it was just modifying the old one. Took at least three hours, plus the time it took to fix the guestbook.

And just in case you missed it the first time: sign the freaking guestbook! I'm one evil cookie.

I must've sounded like a dweeb in my last entry. Such is life, just ignore my dweebiness.

I haven't mentioned it in here before, but there was a dance at my school advertised for over a month, and it was last night. I was originally planning to just stay home, but my friends really wanted me to go. So an hour before the dance starts, I rush to the mall and go nuts in Bootlegger. I find a long black slitted skirt with cute little ribbons to tie the waist up, and a pair of beige corduroy pants with a brown lace-up fly.

I run home, pile on some make-up and put on my leather high-heeled boots, go to my friend's house, and when she answers the door she goes "Oh my god! You're so pretty!" at which I am shocked yet reply, "I'm wearing hooker boots. Not good."

My friends were wearing these really snazzy dress-gown things, with a matching sash and black strappy shoes. There I was in a black v-neck baby tee, long grey knitted cardigan, said beige pants and hooker boots. I looked hot, but we so didn't match that it wasn't even funny.

We get to the dance early, hang around in the bathroom, then as soon as more people come we sit on a couple of chairs around the dance floor and talk.

"She Hates Me" by Puddle Of Mudd comes on. I die with glee, but not before I grab my friends and we dance. By this time there were plenty of people arriving. We dance a few more dances, and who do I see?

Former-Crush. I get this random desire to grind with him, then shake it off. I see him checking me out various times - he hasn't seen me dressed up before, believe it or not. I look hot, so I don't blame him.

(Later during the night, my friend tells me she thought he was checking her out. She has nothing to check out, and was wearing a gawdy dress. I love her, but I was always right beside her dancing, she apparently failed to take that into consideration when she saw him look.)

So we dance tons, I drink tons of water, and a slow song comes on. We sit it out, except for a couple friends who were asked to dance. It's all good.

Eminem comes on, I sulk. Then the song suddenly stops - I scream "YES! HAHA!" and pump my fists victoriously, then everyone laughs at me for being such a nerd. They all love the misogynistic bastard, you see.

I still see Former-Crush around, not dancing but talking to various girls. I become oddly jealous and dance even more.

A slow song plays. Former-Crush slow dances with someone else. I pout, my heart has literally broken in half.

He had better hope that she is only his friend. URGH.

Other than that, I had a great time. They played some Guns N' Roses, which made me all too happy. The best had to be when they played "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-A-Lot, which one of my friends and I know all the words to. Hee.

So yeah, heartbreak and fun. D-l wasn't there - he didn't strike me as the kind of guy who went to dances, anyway. He was out of my mind for the night - I needed a break.

then + now