Twisted tangled little Cris
It’s not even raining, I’m on holiday and I should be happy and super excited about the trip and stuff… and I’m not… and I don’t know why… instead I’m all shitty and messed up, as I’ve recently been reminded about my allergy to strawberries, which just happen to be my favourite treat in the whole world, but the millions, no, trillions of little red, itchy spots all over my skin are not a good sign. I’ve eaten four kilos of strawberries this week and hell, I’m not gonna stop. I’ll just put my trust into some little blue allergy pills I always take when I start to caugh like a broken motor engine or when my nose flows like Niagara Falls (yay, made a rhyme!).
So I’m still allergic to strawberries.
This is my last day at home, and I’ll use it to write a long long blog entry I’ll probably read again and laugh at when I get back home.
Everything is boring, yet I’m not in the mood for facing the world. Still haven’t gone out. I’m totally unconfident about the English contest, I think that writing in English is my own special way of constantly reminding myself about how big this is and how deeply disappointed I’m gonna get when I’ll make a complete crap out of everything. And, to make it worse, all I can think about is food. Well, they
do say that the two ultimate pleasures in life are food and sex, in that order, but I could really exchange that first pleasure with something else, like.. starving, or working out, or just losing weight, without having to do anything, just sit on the couch and lose weight… But, since that’s not possible, I keep thinking about food, about eating something. Hence I practically have no nails left at any of my hands, and I think it’s worse than ever - my fingertips hurt like hell, ffs!BUT. Maybe after a five-day break from it all, I’ll start making sense. And, just maybe, I’ll figure out what’s missing and I’ll be able to get back to my normal, happy, optimistic, confident little self.
Or maybe not.
So: The coundown’s started, it’s only a day and a half till the moment of truth.
Therefore I’ll go watch some South Park, bite the one last fragment of nail I have left and keep feeling miserable. And try not to think of the brand new marvelous zit on my marvelous chin. 
And then… Off to the English contest. When I come back, I’ll be either going bananas about winning some prize or… acting as if the contest never existed.
TTYL. Much later.
. [It's a good thing nobody reads 
)
[mucho intelihente]
Cristina se plimba cu Robert, nu fiindca a fost abandonata de prietena ei cea mai buna sau pentru ca nu ar avea cu cine sa se plimbe; pur si simplu ii place sa se plimbe cu Robert.
