Dear Diary,
“Dying For Sex” was so good. I paused it during the scene where her husband starts crying when she’s giving him a blowjob so I could Google “nude triangle bralette with darts”.
I like to collect hair from the drain in my bathtub, roll it into a little ball using the palms of my hands, and keep it in the shower next to my shampoo bottle. I usually dispose of it once it becomes roughly the size of a grape, but lately I’ve been thinking about letting it get really big.
I hate my bangs all of a sudden.
The other day, a deranged man stabbed a woman in the neck using a piece of glass from a bottle he broke over a different woman’s head. This happened right outside my building. My sister thinks I should get a taser, but that’s just one more thing I don’t wanna carry.
I want to eat waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for every meal.
I desperately need a good cry, but Lexapro is getting in the way. I used to watch this movie called “Christmas on Division Street” starring Fred Savage and Hume Cronyn about a young boy who befriends a homeless man. Fred’s character eventually discovers Cronyn’s frozen, dead body in an alley. I can’t believe the movies I watched as a kid.
I miss playing dress-up. When I finally have my own apartment, I’m going to get one of those big antique chests and fill it with vintage dresses and wigs so I can play dress-up whenever I want. Yes, I am autistic. No, I haven’t been formally diagnosed because it costs roughly two thousand dollars, and I can think of more fun ways I would rather spend that money.
The other day, I asked the employees at a clothing store the least amount of money they would accept to eat one of the dog treats they give to my dog. The girl said $20, and the guys said $200. I said $75.
My dog gets a boner when I’m giving him a haircut. It reminds me of that scene in “Amelie” when her dad is listening to her heartbeat and it’s racing because she is so excited to be having such close contact with her dad.
Ok, bye!