I wonder, what is a journal for? Really? Can I bitch disgustedly at myself, or is that too psycho? Who really gives a damn, it's my journal, right?
Rant: I go make this friggin' video, can't stop fixing it, staring at it, fixing more. Hubby comes in, him being the audio-visual tech, blah, blah, fix more, stare more, again again again! AUAUAUAUGHHHH! So I do it and post it up for folks to look at, except the plan didn't work! Never mind what f'in plan, I'm too tired to go into it, but it didn't. Nobody can look at the damn thing. So now I'm feeling like, shit, I told people that it would be out there, available, and even if nobody gives a crap well hell I need to fix it. So I build myself a little Starsky and Hutch site, meanwhile, the dishes have piled up, I don't remember my kids names and my husband is about to go have sex with the cat. Talk about desperation.
I am going to tie my tongue in a knot know or any God forsaken who looks at the page will know way more about me than they ever cared to.
Plus I'm still irritated. I'm going for a beer.
Oh fuck, I forgot to mention, if anybody does look at this pitiful little journal, here's the url just in case you're remotely interested:
http://planetoftheapestv.150m.com/shindex.htmlyes, I know it is a planet of the apes site. My site. I'm busy running a Godforsaken contest on it, too, thanks to some of my monkey friends. Did you know you can meet a lot of men on those POTA sites? I have some great friends from those groups, almost all male. Ah. I love men. Yeah, some of them are dorks, like me, but they're GREAT dorks. And one of 'em is even good lookin'. Grrrr.
I'm coming to bed, hubby!!!!!!!