next exit

"HELL!" i yell. "I'M GOING TO HEEEEEEELLLLLLL!"

anna and ashley look at me, confused.

you see, i knew it would only be so long until people close to me other than those to whom i gave the link to would find the scottish thirty. i mean, if you google me on google, this is the first thing that comes up. and since blogger had updated its look and changed its format, it's particularly freakishly easy to to find other people in the same area, or say... the same residence as you.

this morning, procrastinating as usual and sharing stories of vomiting in embarassing situation with the girls, i check out my attention-whorish journal and proceed to have an almost panic attack. "oh jesus oh hell..." the vox pipes up, suddenly aware that it isn't just talking to itself, but rather an audience that knows the personification of it in real life.

i guess it was inevitable.

so i think that in order to save face [i'm also a pride-whore in case you were wondering], i should make a few things clear. in the words of nick hornby, as vocalized by the mighty john cusak- "i've been following my gut since i was fourteen. i've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains." by this i mean that everything here is written from me, my gut if you will. it's opinion and sometimes not quite reflective of the truth [oh but its based in truth, believe you me.] so if you come across any of the characters mentioned in real life, don't automatically assume that they are who i portray them as, because you're getting a skewed perception. hell, any perception from me has to be skewed. hellooo- crazy girl on the fourth floor here!

and if you're mentioned in here and you want things removed, i'm at your service. you know where to find me, apparently.