instead of clowning around, let's look for some common ground

so my tea obsession is over -

the new thing is blood oranges.

good god i love these bitches.

but everything around me is sticky - everything.

i must've eaten a dozen in the last four days - and i'm still fucked up over the fact that i don't feel good - at all.

janko tipseravic - my all-time tennis god blew past an american in round one - who cares - he's the coolest guy to toss a ball around ever.

andy roddick also won last night - he's into the third round - he yelled a little bit and then tweeted about it.

if i didn't like federer so much i might be an andy roddick fan more.

actually thinking about it i'm fighting the inevitable - i have been craving oranges, sleeping like crazy and what not.... i don't think i'm pregnant - i think i might be getting sick. although i don't think i can be pregnant.

now i gotta gotta think about it.

fuck.

although i know dear john will end up in the cheapie movie theatre in two weeks - that doesn't mean i'm not semi-excited to see it. i always dream about that guy - ever since step up 2 - (i even giggle when i write that) - nick is the closest i will ever come to having a boyfriend that could/did/would dance.

truth be told: sometimes when the weather is too gross to walk/no motivation to actually go to the gym: i dance here for a semi-workout.

so - i hate being a bummer - and if i don't get it out then the point of the fucking blog is pointless. but i am really disillusioned with people. i don't really really give a shit about too many people - and lately i feel like maybe my hp is delivering a message i am too blind to see for myself. that people really don't care about me either.

i get so wrapped up in my own misanthropic life-style that i'm missing the whole cocksucking point:

no one cares.

my phone doesn't ring and i think - i wouldn't answer it anyway.

but the point may be: it doesn't ring.

i don't know if you can truly hate the world if it hates you back.