Bad, Bad Penny

Bad, Bad Penny

As dictated by Faranza Syns

My blog is so public now, I don't know if I can continue crying in it.

Suddenly, I'm so sick of holding on. And yes, that's a lyric from Darren Hayes.

Remember my PM when I said: When you start quoting emo songs, then you know you're in deep shit?

This is one of those ah-crap-it's-in-my-eye moments.

Sometimes I wish I could just bite off my tongue.

But that'd cause too much pain. And hey, I won't be able to say my witty lines anymore, and then who would cheer you guys up?

Well, there's always the blog, I suppose.

.....

Pardon, I'm about to have my oh-the-world-sucks moment, so ignore the gaping, black hole below.


Fuck you.

Yes, I seem to adore beginning my oh-so-emo posts with those words. Believe it or not, I'm just so sick of you. Why can't you just go poof?! It'd help me live my life with a semblance of sanity. Please, please, please go away. Fade away into the background. Whatever happened to those songs where they say "time will heal it"? Go run along and lick your wounds. And don't look back. I beseech you. It just tires me that you have to come back, again and again, as bad as the proverbial penny.

Don't call me. Ever again. It just scares me witless when you do. I don't TALK TO GUYS ON THE PHONE. I TOLD YOU TEN GAZILLION TIMES! I JUST DON'T! Even if I do, it's just to my Head of Department, and you're NOT him. And we DON'T GO LOVEY-DOVEY like YOU tried to be. Fuck you. Just fuck off. I need peace, and I can't have it with you around. Just leave me be, and we'll part ways like sane, civilized humans.

Ah fuck, why are you calling me again? I said I can't talk to you anymore. Go AWAY. Just go, PLEASE.

You're an ex. So stay where you're supposed to be: in the past. Way, way back in the past.

God, I feel like crying. Help me, please.


____________________________


Well, that was a long one. Haha.

Hmm... today's a bit draggy. And I feel real down. I don't feel like being poetic about it.

Let me put it in simple terms: I'm tired.

And heck, I'm a whole lot of pissy-energy, too.

.... Sorry. This blog is too public. I can't really say anything here. You know what? I'll just log off, and bemoan my fate somewhere else. At least it spares you guys the soreness.

But at the meantime, I want to clarify something.

I don't love Brodick anymore. Haha, why take Brodick when you can have Cam, Ethan and Philip Quinn?

"I'm just the detail man. Either of you tried to have a five minute conversation with a lawyer... well, you'd nod off from boredom, Ethan, and Cam would end up punching him. I won by default."

"Maybe." Cam grinned at him. "But you skated out of a lot of the real work by talking down the phone, writing letters, zinging off faxes. It just comes down to you being a secretary. Without the great legs and ass."

"Not only is that sexist, but I do have great legs and a terrific ass."

"Oh, yeah? Let's see 'em." He moved fast, diving and taking Phillip down onto that reputedly terrific ass.

Foolish scrambled up from his nap by the lumber and raced over to join in.

"Christ, are you crazy?" Laughter prevented Phillip from rolling free. "Get off me, you moron."

"Give me a hand here, Ethan." Cam grinned, swearing as Foolish lapped eagerly at his face. Phillip struggled half-heartedly when Cam sat on him. "Come on," he urged when Ethan merely shook his head. "When was the last time you pantsed somebody?"

"Been a while." Ethan considered as Phillip began struggling in earnest. "Maybe the last time was Junior Crawford at his bachelor party."

"Well, that's ten years ago, anyway." Cam grunted as Phillip nearly succeeded in bucking him off. "Come on, he's put on some muscle the last few months. And he's feisty."

"Maybe for old time's sake." Getting into the spirit, Ethan evaded a couple of well-aimed kicks and got a firm hold on the waistband of Phillips's jeans.

"Excuse me," was the best Sybill could manage when she walked in on an air blue with curses and the sight of Phillip being held down on the beaten-wood floor while his brothers... well, she couldn't quite tell what they were trying to do.

"Hey." Cam avoided a fist to the jaw, barely, and grinned hugely at her. "Want to give us a hand? We're just trying to get his pants off. He was bragging about his legs."

"I... hmmm."

Disclaimer: All of the above extract is not mine, but belongs to Nora Roberts, and Jove Fiction. Nora Roberts (though it's a pretty long haul that you'd ever read my blog) and anyone involved in the suing business, don't sue me, please. I have no money. The money in my bank account is not even mine, so it's kind of pointless if you want to sue me. I'm just promoting your book. See? I'm a an artless, innnocent girl with no devious designs.


Lol. Okay, I'm all good now. Phew. Quoting helps cool the anger. Wow, I never knew that. I guess that's something I should keep in mind. Next time I'll quote from some other book. Lol.

Wow. It's... *sigh*... I feel relieved really.

Anyways, I studied History today. *Wiggles eyebrows.* Surprise, surprise, Farhana actually studied during the holidays. This is a first. Definitely a first.

And I nearly finished the whole of Chapter 9. Well, that's something at least. I didn't actually throw the book out the window and scream holy murder when I finally gave up, so that's shows the condition of my sanity--pretty much, it's intact. And I did notes too. Haha, aliens must've spied me from outer space and thought I'd be a great candidate for their next brain-washing mission. But too bad, I'm only partially brainwashed. I still can't focus beyond three hours.

Oh god... I studied for three hours.

Get out the firecrackers, people! It's time to celebrate!

A toast? To my 100th post. What the hell. Even if life gets me down, I'll pick up the pieces and maybe glue them back together with a bit of UHU. It's always been that way, and it'll continue being that way.

My hundredth post.

My hundredth post.

You see? I'm not that much of a lazy ass. Haha.


I know I'm supposed to feel bad,
But me being me,
Let's just smile about it.