I may still get around to that entry. But right now I'd actually like to state some beliefs/feelings/opinions. Hey, almost like this was a journal or something! At the moment, I'm thinking about something other than how depressed I am. Hence, the internet at large gets the benefit of knowing about it. I've been thinking about things recently, and I have come to the decision that I am very strange. I don't understand many people. That is to say, there are things that many people seem to think or believe which strike me as completely foreign, and I can't really comprehend them. And by writing about them right now, I don't expect to be validated or reassured. I do wonder why I feel like such a Martian in what I think. Am I really just that strange/unique/crazy/something? One of these topics is that of love, and it's disreputable counterpart: sex. Now, I'm a metaphor about dyed wool when in comes to being a complete prude, so I'm not talking about well, "any of that business". I'm talking about generally. Conceptually.
I do not understand the desire for sex.
Let me clarify. Yes, physical, blood, desire, sex is good, all that stuff, woo hoo, fine fine. I understand the enjoyment factor and why someone would want to have it. I'm talking about the desire for sex alone. I'm talking about the phrase "I need to get laid." Seemingly, it doesn't matter who it's with, only the act is important. To me, this is so radically repulsive to every fiber of my being that I can't really describe it. And I don't think I mean just "casual sex" either, or the fact that people do that. More to the point
I do not understand the desire for a relationship.
I have never wanted a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Or a relationship that I didn't have. Wait, that's not true. I remember several years ago wanting to have a best friend. It seemed that many people had one, yet I did not. I wanted a friend that was like a sister, that I'd be comfortable talking to about anything, conceivably until forever. Then I realized that nearly everyone that I thought had that didn't really. And now, I do. So, HA! Anyway, back to the sex. I don't understand dating. I don't understand wanting a vacant position filled. That's what it is, isn't it? Dating? You hang out with someone you don't know very well because you're interviewing them for the part of "significant other". It strikes me as being... cold, somehow. Unnatural. "I want a boyfriend" sounds to me like "I want a situation. I don't care who the situation is with, I just want to be in it." Then it's just a matter of appraising every person you meet to see how good a candidate they are for the position. The whole thing seems so backwards.
Here's what I do understand: People. The wanting of a certain person. The wanting to do illicit and possibley illegal things to a certain person. Not because you want to do "the thing" but because you want to be with "the person" and the actions proceed from that but are secondary. I understand the building of relationships. That you start out as acquaintances, and become friends. And then amongst the people you've befriended, one emerges as the one you love, who loves you back. Which is sort of up to chance, I guess. And does that mean I think you just sit and wait around for fate? Well, I guess so. Because the alternative is actively seeking out a filler for the gap, which is what I don't understand.
And oddly, I never found waiting to be hard or stressful. Again, because I never desired a relationship. I really didn't think about it. And getting back to the notion of dating, it's like going through the motions of being in love (depending on how one dates from "hanging out exclusively" to "doin' the do") and expecting love to follow. Or sometimes not. It only makes sense to me that the motions should only go on after the love, or at least the beginning of it, is already there. I don't really think of it as at all "magical" and I really don't believe that anything is "cheapened" the other way, I'm just saying that I honestly cannot understand how people do it. I'm logically, emotionally, and in all ways just... baffled by it.
I also believe that true love is very rare to come by twice, let alone any more times. And by "true love" I don't mean "one's true love" as in a person, I mean the emotion, and feeling it for a person. I believe it is impossible to feel true romantic love for more than one person (at a time) and that true romantic love is very difficult to dispel.
Of course, reflecting upon the state of my life, it's very hard to take anything I say very seriously.
Thursday
Monday
You know u r from NJ if..............
This is the title of one of those obnoxious chain mails that my cousin sent me today. It's one of those funny regional ones. Of course, it's not so much "funny" as it is "occasionally apt". So, here's some commentary on the information contained therein. Because, in case I've never mentioned this before... I'm from New Jersey.
1. You don't think of fruit when people mention "The Oranges". This is true. Of course, you should further clarify that there are "The Oranges" and then there's West Orange. Where there is a far far less likelihood of your dying by gunfire. Also, a special case should be made for East Orange. If you find yourself there, even if you're not normally religious -- pray to Superman.
2. You know that it's called "Great Adventure" not "Six Flags". This is true. Great Adventure, home of the world's largest drive-through safari (complete with illegally feedable monkeys!), was in existance before selling out to the chain.
3. A good, quick breakfast is a hard roll with butter. Um... this is false. Or else foreign to me. A good quick breakfast is typically a bagel, but that was probably to Philadelphian for the discerning compilers of this list.
4. You've known the way to Seaside Heights since you were seven. True. Though *wanting* to go there is a completely different matter...
5. You've eaten at a diner, when you were stoned or drunk, at 3 a.m. I have never been stoned or drunk, and I have never been to a diner at three a.m. I believe the point of this is to show that lots of various activities revolve around going to diners.
6. You know that the state isn't one big oil refinery. Word.
7. At least three people in your family still love Bruce Springsteen and you know the town Jon Bon Jovi is from. I haven't really polled my family on their opinions of The Boss. They are accepting of him, where as I hate him with a visceral loathing. Much in the vein of Kevin Costner. End of story. Oh, and Perth Amboy. Duh.
8. You know what a "jug handle" is. Yes. It is a perfectly logical and efficient means of navigating treacherous highways. Without them, you would probably die.
9. You know that WaWa is a convenience store. And they've spread south! But all wrong! Wawas don't sell beer!
10. You know that the state isn't all farmland. Um... I don't think we have anyone fooled on that score anymore.
11. You know that there are no "beaches" in New Jersey - there's the shore - and you don't go to the shore, you go "down the Shore". Yes. This is really a crucial thing to know.
12. And when you are there, you are not "at the shore", you are "down the Shore". Again, absolutely essential.
13. You know how to properly negotiate a Circle. Um. I've never tried, but I'm sure I could manage. I've seen it done.
14. You knew that the last sentence had to do with driving. Well, obviously.
15. You know that this is the only "New..." state that doesn't require "New" to identify it (like, try ...Mexico, ...York, ...Hampshire - doesn't work does it?) I really don't think that this is limited to intrastate knowledge.
16. You know that a "White Castle" is the name of BOTH a fast food chain, AND a fast food sandwich. Um. I did not know that, actually. I would assume they sell them at White Castle?
17. You consider putting mayo on a corned beef sandwich a sacrilege. This is true. But, then again, I consider putting mayonaisse on anything a sacrilege. I think mayonaisse is disgusting. As is, incidentally, corned beef. What a confusing statement.
18. You don't think "What exit" is very funny. Oh, come on. It so is. 149, baby!
19. You know that people from the 609 area code are "a little different". And how!
20. You know that no respectable New Jerseyan goes to Princeton - that's for out-of-staters. Oh, I'm sorry. They must have meant "You know the only New Jerseyans who are actually capable of going to Princeton are the children of alumni and staff, who are essentially out-of-staters who come here to soak up the Ivy League slots. Oh, no, really, it's much, much cooler to go to Rutgers, or better yet, TCNJ! [/bitter]
21. The Jets-Giants game has started fights at your local school or bar. Eh. Probably. I doubt I would have noticed, though. I think those are sports teams.
22. You live within 20 minutes of at least three different malls. I most assuredly do. and I'm talking real malls, not those little fake malls.
23. You refer to all highways and interstates by their numbers. Well, the ones I know, I do. Like 1 and 18 and 37. But that doesn't really work with the Parkway and the Turnpike, now does it? This list is so half-assed.
24. Every year you have at least one kid in your class named Tony. No I didn't. In elementary school, there was Anthony. But he went by Ant more than he would Tony. I am proud to say that I went to school with a Gina, though.
25. You know the location of every clip shown in the Sopranos opening credits. Well, not from my own knowledge bank, but I have been told many times over of their locations, yes.
26. You've gotten on the wrong highway trying to get out of the mall. Never trying to get out of a mall. My mother did it while trying to take me to school once.
27. You know that people from North Jersey go to Seaside Heights, and people from Central Jersey go to Belmar and people from South Jersey go to Wildwood. It can be no other way. Pffffffft!! This is ridiculously false. Like I'd ever be excited to go to Sleazeside like a fuckin' Bennie. The place is the den of all the teens of Ocean County. The North Jersey crew is only there Memorial Day weekend. And please, the people in South Jersey are too fucking lazy to go down to Cape May.
28. You weren't raised in New Jersey, you were raised in either North Jersey, Central Jersey or South Jersey. Oh like Central Jersey counts.
29. You don't consider Newark or Camden to actually be part of the state. That's false. We are perfectly cognizant of our crimebeds. We just don't want to admit to them. The same goes for Trenton, actually.
30. You remember the stores Korvette's, Two Guys, Rickel's, Channel, Bamburger's, and Orbach's. Uh, Rickel's, Channel, and Bamburger's, yes. The rest no. Except Two Guys. We still have one of those in my town.
31. You've had a boardwalk cheese steak and vinegar fries. I most certainly have had nothing of the kind. Geeluaaaagh!
32. You start planning For Memorial Day weekend in February. I actually had no clue when Memorial Day was until this very year. Needless to say, this is false.
and finally...
33. You've never, NEVER pumped your own gas. Fuckin'. A.
1. You don't think of fruit when people mention "The Oranges". This is true. Of course, you should further clarify that there are "The Oranges" and then there's West Orange. Where there is a far far less likelihood of your dying by gunfire. Also, a special case should be made for East Orange. If you find yourself there, even if you're not normally religious -- pray to Superman.
2. You know that it's called "Great Adventure" not "Six Flags". This is true. Great Adventure, home of the world's largest drive-through safari (complete with illegally feedable monkeys!), was in existance before selling out to the chain.
3. A good, quick breakfast is a hard roll with butter. Um... this is false. Or else foreign to me. A good quick breakfast is typically a bagel, but that was probably to Philadelphian for the discerning compilers of this list.
4. You've known the way to Seaside Heights since you were seven. True. Though *wanting* to go there is a completely different matter...
5. You've eaten at a diner, when you were stoned or drunk, at 3 a.m. I have never been stoned or drunk, and I have never been to a diner at three a.m. I believe the point of this is to show that lots of various activities revolve around going to diners.
6. You know that the state isn't one big oil refinery. Word.
7. At least three people in your family still love Bruce Springsteen and you know the town Jon Bon Jovi is from. I haven't really polled my family on their opinions of The Boss. They are accepting of him, where as I hate him with a visceral loathing. Much in the vein of Kevin Costner. End of story. Oh, and Perth Amboy. Duh.
8. You know what a "jug handle" is. Yes. It is a perfectly logical and efficient means of navigating treacherous highways. Without them, you would probably die.
9. You know that WaWa is a convenience store. And they've spread south! But all wrong! Wawas don't sell beer!
10. You know that the state isn't all farmland. Um... I don't think we have anyone fooled on that score anymore.
11. You know that there are no "beaches" in New Jersey - there's the shore - and you don't go to the shore, you go "down the Shore". Yes. This is really a crucial thing to know.
12. And when you are there, you are not "at the shore", you are "down the Shore". Again, absolutely essential.
13. You know how to properly negotiate a Circle. Um. I've never tried, but I'm sure I could manage. I've seen it done.
14. You knew that the last sentence had to do with driving. Well, obviously.
15. You know that this is the only "New..." state that doesn't require "New" to identify it (like, try ...Mexico, ...York, ...Hampshire - doesn't work does it?) I really don't think that this is limited to intrastate knowledge.
16. You know that a "White Castle" is the name of BOTH a fast food chain, AND a fast food sandwich. Um. I did not know that, actually. I would assume they sell them at White Castle?
17. You consider putting mayo on a corned beef sandwich a sacrilege. This is true. But, then again, I consider putting mayonaisse on anything a sacrilege. I think mayonaisse is disgusting. As is, incidentally, corned beef. What a confusing statement.
18. You don't think "What exit" is very funny. Oh, come on. It so is. 149, baby!
19. You know that people from the 609 area code are "a little different". And how!
20. You know that no respectable New Jerseyan goes to Princeton - that's for out-of-staters. Oh, I'm sorry. They must have meant "You know the only New Jerseyans who are actually capable of going to Princeton are the children of alumni and staff, who are essentially out-of-staters who come here to soak up the Ivy League slots. Oh, no, really, it's much, much cooler to go to Rutgers, or better yet, TCNJ! [/bitter]
21. The Jets-Giants game has started fights at your local school or bar. Eh. Probably. I doubt I would have noticed, though. I think those are sports teams.
22. You live within 20 minutes of at least three different malls. I most assuredly do. and I'm talking real malls, not those little fake malls.
23. You refer to all highways and interstates by their numbers. Well, the ones I know, I do. Like 1 and 18 and 37. But that doesn't really work with the Parkway and the Turnpike, now does it? This list is so half-assed.
24. Every year you have at least one kid in your class named Tony. No I didn't. In elementary school, there was Anthony. But he went by Ant more than he would Tony. I am proud to say that I went to school with a Gina, though.
25. You know the location of every clip shown in the Sopranos opening credits. Well, not from my own knowledge bank, but I have been told many times over of their locations, yes.
26. You've gotten on the wrong highway trying to get out of the mall. Never trying to get out of a mall. My mother did it while trying to take me to school once.
27. You know that people from North Jersey go to Seaside Heights, and people from Central Jersey go to Belmar and people from South Jersey go to Wildwood. It can be no other way. Pffffffft!! This is ridiculously false. Like I'd ever be excited to go to Sleazeside like a fuckin' Bennie. The place is the den of all the teens of Ocean County. The North Jersey crew is only there Memorial Day weekend. And please, the people in South Jersey are too fucking lazy to go down to Cape May.
28. You weren't raised in New Jersey, you were raised in either North Jersey, Central Jersey or South Jersey. Oh like Central Jersey counts.
29. You don't consider Newark or Camden to actually be part of the state. That's false. We are perfectly cognizant of our crimebeds. We just don't want to admit to them. The same goes for Trenton, actually.
30. You remember the stores Korvette's, Two Guys, Rickel's, Channel, Bamburger's, and Orbach's. Uh, Rickel's, Channel, and Bamburger's, yes. The rest no. Except Two Guys. We still have one of those in my town.
31. You've had a boardwalk cheese steak and vinegar fries. I most certainly have had nothing of the kind. Geeluaaaagh!
32. You start planning For Memorial Day weekend in February. I actually had no clue when Memorial Day was until this very year. Needless to say, this is false.
and finally...
33. You've never, NEVER pumped your own gas. Fuckin'. A.
Sunday
Saturday
"A year ago today..."
Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? I'm probably the only person not feeling down remembering Connecticut. Because, let's face it, I wasn't really up to begin with. I suppose that's a consolation of some sort. In the sense that it completely isn't. I'm taking a break from the internet. Possibley only until I finish dinner, but to my mind, it will be a break.
[title]
So, stuff has been going on the past few days, which included amongst other things: staying awake and alert for more than 48 straight hours, freaking the establishment, installing air conditioners, and fireworks. And probably having a stomach virus. But I've been all tired and crap for updating, so I keep forgetting to write anything down. This instance is no different. So, instead, I will write about one particular incident of yesterday that greatly irritated me.
So, yesterday was the birthday of my nation. My stupid town has stupid fireworks that I had to stupid go to. I knew my mother was going to suggest it, and for once I wasn't violently against leaving the house. I was more quietly resigned to the fact that, it being the 4th, I was going to need to go see fireworks. Well. They were pretty. Beforehand, we went for some food stuffs at the diner. (This being New Jersey, we have many. This was one of my small town's two.) Now, at this diner there is a waitman. He's an aggravating and annoying fuckhead. I first encountered him on mother's day, when myself, my mother, my sister, her best friend Cherilyn, and her adorable moppet Cecelia, whom I adore with all my heart and is five. Cecelia did not like this character. This is very telling. He was flirtatious with my sister and Cherilyn. They were both annoyed. He joined in our conversations. We were all annoyed. He sat down at out table. This was all highly inappropriate. My sister was angry, but contained herself well. He remarked that I was quiet. I thought he could go fuck himself. Briefly, this fellow is a fuckhead. I next saw him there after I went out with my friend Toni and we stopped for food. He listened in, and joined in on our conversation. I was highly annoyed an uncomfortable. I don't want to go to that diner because I think he might be there. He's unprofessional and discourteous, and when I realized that he was there yesterday, I wanted to leave.
So, my mother gives him her order.
I give him my order.
"Wait, what was that?" he says, putting down his order-taking-pad and putting his hand up to his ear.
"Chicken fingers." I say in a completely audible tone.
"Oh, hold on, let me get out the microphone," say he, beginning to pantomime reaching for one.
I smile pleasantly. "I WOULD LIKE. SOME CHICKEN. FINGERS," I say in a tone somewhere between conversational and shouting.
"Okay, chicken fingers," quoth he.
"THANK YOU," says I.
I then avoided looking at or speaking to him for the entirity of my meal. I was quite pleased. My mother told me that what I did was inappropriate. Bullshit it was inappropriate. It was inappropriate that I had to repeat my fucking order to this jackass three times. It was inappropriate that I am made to feel uncomfortable in an establishment where I am supposed to be waited on. And he's lucky I didn't tack "you fucking asshole" onto the end of that "thank you" and that I didn't get up and punch him in his ugly fucking face.
So, then we went to fireworks. We stopped at a store for bug spray. There was none. While there, I saw my friend Don drive by, with someone tall in his passenger seat. Possibly Ed. I mentioned this to my mother, and she had no idea who I was talking about. Making an interesting point that while she tells me that it would be a "good idea" for me to go out with "my little friends" that she doesn't even know who any of these people are. Anyway, this was a mistake. because later last night when we came home, she took a shower (the shower is where she works herself up into having "important conversations") and when she emerged, she told me that she doesn't want me "playing the hermit" anymore, and that I need to call at least one of my friends this summer, and then some other commentary, with the loving remark that there was "something wrong" with me. Gee, thanks, mother.
You know, I'm out of the house all day four days a week. I do a lot of work, that I'm still behind on. I need a day or two to have a fucking rest. And, I don't want to hang out with any of my "little friends". And, I think my mother needs to stop worrying about everything that's "wrong" with me, and worry about what's wrong with her fucking self.
So, yesterday was the birthday of my nation. My stupid town has stupid fireworks that I had to stupid go to. I knew my mother was going to suggest it, and for once I wasn't violently against leaving the house. I was more quietly resigned to the fact that, it being the 4th, I was going to need to go see fireworks. Well. They were pretty. Beforehand, we went for some food stuffs at the diner. (This being New Jersey, we have many. This was one of my small town's two.) Now, at this diner there is a waitman. He's an aggravating and annoying fuckhead. I first encountered him on mother's day, when myself, my mother, my sister, her best friend Cherilyn, and her adorable moppet Cecelia, whom I adore with all my heart and is five. Cecelia did not like this character. This is very telling. He was flirtatious with my sister and Cherilyn. They were both annoyed. He joined in our conversations. We were all annoyed. He sat down at out table. This was all highly inappropriate. My sister was angry, but contained herself well. He remarked that I was quiet. I thought he could go fuck himself. Briefly, this fellow is a fuckhead. I next saw him there after I went out with my friend Toni and we stopped for food. He listened in, and joined in on our conversation. I was highly annoyed an uncomfortable. I don't want to go to that diner because I think he might be there. He's unprofessional and discourteous, and when I realized that he was there yesterday, I wanted to leave.
So, my mother gives him her order.
I give him my order.
"Wait, what was that?" he says, putting down his order-taking-pad and putting his hand up to his ear.
"Chicken fingers." I say in a completely audible tone.
"Oh, hold on, let me get out the microphone," say he, beginning to pantomime reaching for one.
I smile pleasantly. "I WOULD LIKE. SOME CHICKEN. FINGERS," I say in a tone somewhere between conversational and shouting.
"Okay, chicken fingers," quoth he.
"THANK YOU," says I.
I then avoided looking at or speaking to him for the entirity of my meal. I was quite pleased. My mother told me that what I did was inappropriate. Bullshit it was inappropriate. It was inappropriate that I had to repeat my fucking order to this jackass three times. It was inappropriate that I am made to feel uncomfortable in an establishment where I am supposed to be waited on. And he's lucky I didn't tack "you fucking asshole" onto the end of that "thank you" and that I didn't get up and punch him in his ugly fucking face.
So, then we went to fireworks. We stopped at a store for bug spray. There was none. While there, I saw my friend Don drive by, with someone tall in his passenger seat. Possibly Ed. I mentioned this to my mother, and she had no idea who I was talking about. Making an interesting point that while she tells me that it would be a "good idea" for me to go out with "my little friends" that she doesn't even know who any of these people are. Anyway, this was a mistake. because later last night when we came home, she took a shower (the shower is where she works herself up into having "important conversations") and when she emerged, she told me that she doesn't want me "playing the hermit" anymore, and that I need to call at least one of my friends this summer, and then some other commentary, with the loving remark that there was "something wrong" with me. Gee, thanks, mother.
You know, I'm out of the house all day four days a week. I do a lot of work, that I'm still behind on. I need a day or two to have a fucking rest. And, I don't want to hang out with any of my "little friends". And, I think my mother needs to stop worrying about everything that's "wrong" with me, and worry about what's wrong with her fucking self.
Sunday
Friday
Update on the deliquescing heat.
Or: "Jesus Fuck! Didn't I just make an entry yesterday?!"
So, today I feel that I've managed to keep the house reasonably cool. Or, at least I've managed to keep myself reasonably cool by finding another fan and having it blow full strength directly on me. ....And by being unclad only in undergarments. Yes, I am in my underwears. This is not as attractive as it should be, since I also appear to have developed a rash from the heat on my legs, arms, chest, stomach, and back. I am gorgeous. I talked to my mother on the phone, and I told her about it in order to guilt her as she sits in her air conditioned office. It worked most satisfactorily. I'm still hot, though. On the plus side, it's only 93 ? right now. Yay!
There was a while this morning when I couldn't find Bert. I then figured out that he had been locked out on the porch. Doh. He seems to be alright now, he and Lily and passed out as though dead downstairs. But I'm wondering if I should bring him down to the basement, because it's much cooler down there. And Bert's all old and his fur is like, triple thick.
You may think, why don't I go hang out downstairs instead of what is likely the hottest room in the house? Because this is where the computer is. Obviously.
*edit: No, newBlogger, I obviously special characters aren't showing up. What do I need to do to fix that again? Oh wait, I don't care. That was a little degree sign, everyone.
So, today I feel that I've managed to keep the house reasonably cool. Or, at least I've managed to keep myself reasonably cool by finding another fan and having it blow full strength directly on me. ....And by being unclad only in undergarments. Yes, I am in my underwears. This is not as attractive as it should be, since I also appear to have developed a rash from the heat on my legs, arms, chest, stomach, and back. I am gorgeous. I talked to my mother on the phone, and I told her about it in order to guilt her as she sits in her air conditioned office. It worked most satisfactorily. I'm still hot, though. On the plus side, it's only 93 ? right now. Yay!
There was a while this morning when I couldn't find Bert. I then figured out that he had been locked out on the porch. Doh. He seems to be alright now, he and Lily and passed out as though dead downstairs. But I'm wondering if I should bring him down to the basement, because it's much cooler down there. And Bert's all old and his fur is like, triple thick.
You may think, why don't I go hang out downstairs instead of what is likely the hottest room in the house? Because this is where the computer is. Obviously.
*edit: No, newBlogger, I obviously special characters aren't showing up. What do I need to do to fix that again? Oh wait, I don't care. That was a little degree sign, everyone.
Thursday
It's new, it's scary, and I don't like it.
And I don't want to check my posts to see if any special characters I may have used show up properly. I'm at school right now. That sucks. I should have, you know, like, waited until I got home to do this, but I'm bored and I have an hour to kill. To murder. To render dead.
Anyway, yesterday, I wanted to make entries, and Blogger wouldn't let me, because Blogger is the love-child of Jennifer Love Hewitt and Ted Turner, if you know what I mean, and I think Beth does. And now I don't. In brief: Yes, it is nine-million and a half degrees outside. I do not have air conditioning in my home. Please, I don't even want to go into it.
The sun is my enemy. It compounds the trials of living. With any luck, I will soon be able to fly a rocket into it. Today my mood is bitter and exhausted, and this keyboard I'm typing on bites. Hard. I hate this entry. It's so over.
Anyway, yesterday, I wanted to make entries, and Blogger wouldn't let me, because Blogger is the love-child of Jennifer Love Hewitt and Ted Turner, if you know what I mean, and I think Beth does. And now I don't. In brief: Yes, it is nine-million and a half degrees outside. I do not have air conditioning in my home. Please, I don't even want to go into it.
The sun is my enemy. It compounds the trials of living. With any luck, I will soon be able to fly a rocket into it. Today my mood is bitter and exhausted, and this keyboard I'm typing on bites. Hard. I hate this entry. It's so over.
Sunday
Well, fuck you too, subconscious.
It's June 22nd.
Nothing has happened.
So much for the power of my prophetic dreams.
Nothing has happened.
So much for the power of my prophetic dreams.
Thursday
Waterloo. +1.
“She’s an era for you, an era of your life. If and when you break with her, you break with the only one alive who has shared that time with you.”
- Anne Rice, Interview With The Vampire .
I've always liked that quote. It's specifically vague enough to apply to many situations. Kind of like daily horoscopes. And I'm just a sucker for dates. And this one’s fitting. Well, at least when you over-think things the way I do.
I realize that every person who isn't me probably has no idea what the entry up to this point means. Huh. I suppose I really am cryptic, aren't I? Well plainly: I was deleted from the WD today. So here’s a blurb of self-indulgence: Goodbye, #587, Archer Princess, JupiterAmy. (February 26, 2000 - June 19, 2003)
It was real.
- Anne Rice, Interview With The Vampire .
I've always liked that quote. It's specifically vague enough to apply to many situations. Kind of like daily horoscopes. And I'm just a sucker for dates. And this one’s fitting. Well, at least when you over-think things the way I do.
I realize that every person who isn't me probably has no idea what the entry up to this point means. Huh. I suppose I really am cryptic, aren't I? Well plainly: I was deleted from the WD today. So here’s a blurb of self-indulgence: Goodbye, #587, Archer Princess, JupiterAmy. (February 26, 2000 - June 19, 2003)
It was real.
Saturday
A new twist on a very old song.
It's bugging me that my ads are still for weight loss. bettie gets ads for cramps, internet service, and Japanese business prospects. Why can't I get weird crap like that? Come on, BOOKS! SOFTWARE! HUMANITARIAN AID CONCERNS! CUPCAKES!
Eh. So, I read Everyman , which is a medieval morality play. I read it in Middle English, which was kind of cool. It's about a chap called Everyman, who is told by God to prepare for his Final Judgement (duhn duhn duhhhh!!). The eventual moral of the story was that at the end of his life, the only thing that stayed with him were the good deeds he had done in life. Everything else abandoned him.
If this were me, I'd have a different ultimate companion: my issues. Even when I have nothing else, they never quit me. Aw.
Eh. So, I read Everyman , which is a medieval morality play. I read it in Middle English, which was kind of cool. It's about a chap called Everyman, who is told by God to prepare for his Final Judgement (duhn duhn duhhhh!!). The eventual moral of the story was that at the end of his life, the only thing that stayed with him were the good deeds he had done in life. Everything else abandoned him.
If this were me, I'd have a different ultimate companion: my issues. Even when I have nothing else, they never quit me. Aw.
Thursday
Hey, guess who's dead!
This is one of my favorite games. Actually, it's not so much a game as the way I usually announce the news of someone's passing. Someone the informant doesn't know, usually a famous person. I mean, I'm not that sick. So, for today's guess who's dead:
David Brinkley. Well, that song is going to be a lot less fun to sing now, isn't it?
Gregory Peck. This is just very saddenening. I refused to recognize that he became old.
Speaking of dead things, on the subway this week, I noticed that there was the corpse of a dog lying by the side of the track on the stop where I disembark. It's been there all week. It's most likely a spaniel of some kind. I called NJ Transit yesterday and the day before, telling them about it. They said that it would be taken care of, and they apologized for my inconvenience. It's still fucking there. I can't tell you how distressing this is to me. I may have nightmares. I have this fear that it's just going to keep being there and that one day I'm going to walk by and it will be partially skeletal. Sorry, but hey, I'm the one that has to look at it.
Continuing with animals - tomorrow I'm taking Lily to the vet to have her girly organs removed. The office called for a confirmation of her teeth cleaning appointment. This is incredibley distressing. I corrected that, no, she's going to be cut open and her organs will be removed. That's ever so slightly different from having her teeth cleaned. Anyway, it turned out that it's in the computer for the right procedure, it's just down wrong in the appointment book. And this was the secretary I talked to. I know that the doctor is competant and on top of things. But still, I did not find this experience pleasant at all.
Sorry for the graphic nature of this entry. I blame John Webster.
David Brinkley. Well, that song is going to be a lot less fun to sing now, isn't it?
Gregory Peck. This is just very saddenening. I refused to recognize that he became old.
Speaking of dead things, on the subway this week, I noticed that there was the corpse of a dog lying by the side of the track on the stop where I disembark. It's been there all week. It's most likely a spaniel of some kind. I called NJ Transit yesterday and the day before, telling them about it. They said that it would be taken care of, and they apologized for my inconvenience. It's still fucking there. I can't tell you how distressing this is to me. I may have nightmares. I have this fear that it's just going to keep being there and that one day I'm going to walk by and it will be partially skeletal. Sorry, but hey, I'm the one that has to look at it.
Continuing with animals - tomorrow I'm taking Lily to the vet to have her girly organs removed. The office called for a confirmation of her teeth cleaning appointment. This is incredibley distressing. I corrected that, no, she's going to be cut open and her organs will be removed. That's ever so slightly different from having her teeth cleaned. Anyway, it turned out that it's in the computer for the right procedure, it's just down wrong in the appointment book. And this was the secretary I talked to. I know that the doctor is competant and on top of things. But still, I did not find this experience pleasant at all.
Sorry for the graphic nature of this entry. I blame John Webster.
Saturday
MATRIX!
That movie entertained the fuck out of me. Entertained. The Fuck. Out of Me.
For about two hours and twenty minutes, life was good. And pornotastic! indeed.
Thus stating that there are only two things important in life: sex and philosophy.
For about two hours and twenty minutes, life was good. And pornotastic! indeed.
Thus stating that there are only two things important in life: sex and philosophy.
Wednesday
Monday
I actually believe that's the definition of "Fucking A".
So, I went to the CVS to purchase some posterboard for my upcoming dramatic presentation. And also a chocolate. Anyway. Outside, there was a bum smoking a cigarrette, and listening to Led Zeppelin on his portable radio. And I'm talking, like, actual Zeppelin. Like, "Black Mountain Side" and "The Lemon Song". I now officially hate everyone except for that guy. I bet he's got a pretty sweet life. For a bum outside the CVS.
In other news, my hate of a certain other person grows less "paranoid and suspicious" and more "justified and correct" every day.
Oh, and I have also worked Buffy into my presentation. I geek supreme over all of you.
In other news, my hate of a certain other person grows less "paranoid and suspicious" and more "justified and correct" every day.
Oh, and I have also worked Buffy into my presentation. I geek supreme over all of you.
Wednesday
And so, in conclusion, Rutgers can fucking bite me.
No, really, it's only the conclusion that's important. I'm too tired for the whole story, anyway. Let's just say I wound up 5 hours late and $130 short.
Maybe this tale will freak someone's establishment later. And by later, I mean... in a couple minutes.
Maybe this tale will freak someone's establishment later. And by later, I mean... in a couple minutes.
Monday
How to be a mysterious newbie, but get me to like you anyway.
Be this person. This person is like, the kryptonite of my inherent distrust and hatred of everyone. I don't know how I feel about this.
Wednesday
How to lose weight eating Oreos and Coke.
I don't know, you tell me. That's all I've been having for the past week or so, and I seem to keep going down in size. It may have something to do with all the pacing and nervous limb bouncing. Or all the typing, because, man, I could kill someone with these toned forearms.
In other news, I think I have officially done with the WD. I'll write it a five word email or something.
In other news, I think I have officially done with the WD. I'll write it a five word email or something.
Tuesday
Yes, I cried.
I thought I was meh about it, but as I realized that Nerf Herder was serenading me into a new episode for the last time, I got a little misty. However, I held it together until the end, and then three words made me cave. Free shots as to which ones they were.
I really wish I had liked the past two seasons more. I wish they had been better. I think that would have made tonight better for me. Because it was still a "thing," but not the "thing" it could have been. But, yeah. They could have beaten the Big Bad by dancing the hokey pokey, and I still, in the end, would have said "aww." You win, nostalgia. This concludes your spoilerless review of the lastBuffy ever .
Like. a . freaking. fountain. I am such a girl.
I really wish I had liked the past two seasons more. I wish they had been better. I think that would have made tonight better for me. Because it was still a "thing," but not the "thing" it could have been. But, yeah. They could have beaten the Big Bad by dancing the hokey pokey, and I still, in the end, would have said "aww." You win, nostalgia. This concludes your spoilerless review of the lastBuffy ever .
Like. a . freaking. fountain. I am such a girl.
Monday
Alright, seriously.
Why is T3 premiering at Cannes? And why is Kevin Costner still making movies? Why doesn't he get it yet?
And why are there a bunch of birds staring at me from outside my window? Jesus! I'm not the one you want!
And why are there a bunch of birds staring at me from outside my window? Jesus! I'm not the one you want!
Friday
How To, And Not To, Get Along With A Depressed Amy.
This entry is mostly for the benefit of certain blood relatives who don't have an ice cube's chance in Hell of actually reading this, but hopefully we all can get a little sumthin'-sumthin' from this.
1. Realize that my feelings (or lack thereof) do not exist to spite you, or to upset you. Do not expect me to be happy just because you want me to be happy. I am not a happy person. And becoming upset with me because I cannot will myself into happiness will not help me to be happy.
2. If I say that "Nothing" is wrong, even though this is obviously bullshit, accept it. Obviously, I do not want to talk about what is bothering me. You don't want to talk about what's bothering me either, you just want me to stop being upset so that you're allowed to stop worrying about me. Likewise, if I tell you that "I don't want to talk about it" I mean that I do not want to talk about it. I do not mean that I want you to keep hounding me until I'm frustrated and upset and about to cry, and you declare me uncommunicative.
3. Do not get pissed off if I don't show the appropriate amount of interest in what you are saying/showing me. Here's a tip: I am interested. This is me expressing interest. This is as interested as I'm going to get. Chances are, this is all the interest that I can muster. Please see guideline #1.
4. Do not ask me "What's wrong with you?" like I have an arm growing out of my forehead. Perhaps what's wrong with me is the fact that I have to put up with being treated like I'm an insensitive asshole in addition to all of the reasons why I'm depressed in the first place.
5. Don't ask me to give opinions on things. Chances are that I have not thought about whatever it is you're asking me about. Chances are then that you're going to start pressuring to make a decision faster, frustrating and upsetting me and in turn you in the process. As a matter of fact, just make decisions for me. If you want to make plans, just tell me, "We are going to X on X date." I probably won't be enthusiastic. I may not have a good time. But I will go, and enjoy myself to the best that I am able to. I'm actually fairly easygoing when you're not constantly reminding me how difficult I am.
6. I don't like dealing with people. When out in public, there tend to be a lot of people. If you take me somewhere, please do not constantly remark on how it seems like I'm not having a good time. I probably was on my way to having a pretty good time before you reminded me what a lousy time I was having.
7. I know that you want to help. Sometimes, though, it's better not to. Most of the tactics employed in trying to "help" me often make me more upset. They also make me believe that you don't really want to help me, you just want me to act more manageable so that you don't have to put up with me. This does not inspire to be open, chatty, or what you claim to be after: happy.
This list is incomplete and not well written. Luckily, since I'm so depressed, that means I don't care.
1. Realize that my feelings (or lack thereof) do not exist to spite you, or to upset you. Do not expect me to be happy just because you want me to be happy. I am not a happy person. And becoming upset with me because I cannot will myself into happiness will not help me to be happy.
2. If I say that "Nothing" is wrong, even though this is obviously bullshit, accept it. Obviously, I do not want to talk about what is bothering me. You don't want to talk about what's bothering me either, you just want me to stop being upset so that you're allowed to stop worrying about me. Likewise, if I tell you that "I don't want to talk about it" I mean that I do not want to talk about it. I do not mean that I want you to keep hounding me until I'm frustrated and upset and about to cry, and you declare me uncommunicative.
3. Do not get pissed off if I don't show the appropriate amount of interest in what you are saying/showing me. Here's a tip: I am interested. This is me expressing interest. This is as interested as I'm going to get. Chances are, this is all the interest that I can muster. Please see guideline #1.
4. Do not ask me "What's wrong with you?" like I have an arm growing out of my forehead. Perhaps what's wrong with me is the fact that I have to put up with being treated like I'm an insensitive asshole in addition to all of the reasons why I'm depressed in the first place.
5. Don't ask me to give opinions on things. Chances are that I have not thought about whatever it is you're asking me about. Chances are then that you're going to start pressuring to make a decision faster, frustrating and upsetting me and in turn you in the process. As a matter of fact, just make decisions for me. If you want to make plans, just tell me, "We are going to X on X date." I probably won't be enthusiastic. I may not have a good time. But I will go, and enjoy myself to the best that I am able to. I'm actually fairly easygoing when you're not constantly reminding me how difficult I am.
6. I don't like dealing with people. When out in public, there tend to be a lot of people. If you take me somewhere, please do not constantly remark on how it seems like I'm not having a good time. I probably was on my way to having a pretty good time before you reminded me what a lousy time I was having.
7. I know that you want to help. Sometimes, though, it's better not to. Most of the tactics employed in trying to "help" me often make me more upset. They also make me believe that you don't really want to help me, you just want me to act more manageable so that you don't have to put up with me. This does not inspire to be open, chatty, or what you claim to be after: happy.
This list is incomplete and not well written. Luckily, since I'm so depressed, that means I don't care.
Wednesday
The Really Long List Entry.
So, I yammer on occasionally about how I have really eclectic taste in music. As far as most people know, I like Zeppelin. Anyway, for a while, I've been wanting to list all the artists to be found in my mp3 collection. Tonight being my last night of Ethernet, what better time than now, I thought. I'm listing the artists only, because I have some 2,000 mp3s. Do you want me to list them all? I didn't think so. Bear in mind, that this is only my school computer. There are some on my home computer that I'm not going to bother to try to remember. And there are others which I just haven't gotten around to downloading yet. And yet more that I have on CD or vinyl, which I'm not listing. A further disclaimer: I make no apologies for any of these artists. I like some pretty crappy music. I have many songs of some artists, and one of others. I think it's balanced. If you cringe at the lameness of a certain list member, just assume I only have one of theirs. You'll feel better.
Deep breath, here goes.
10cc, 10,000 Maniacs, 3 Doors Down, 311, 38 Special, A3, Aaliyah, Aaliyah & Timbaland, ABBA, Abra Moore, ACDC, Ace Frehley, Adam Sandler, The Adolescents, Aerosmith, Aimee Mann, Air, Al Green, Alabama, Alanis Morissette, Alannah Myles, Alex Toh, Alice Cooper, Alice Deejay, Alicia Keys, Alison Krauss & Union Station, Alix Olson, Allison Moorer, The Allman Brothers Band, Alphaville, Alvin And The Chipmunks, Amanda Ghost, America, Andrea Bocelli, Andrew Bird (And His Bowl Of Fire), Andrew Lloyd Webber, Ani DiFranco, The Animals, Antonio Vivaldi, Aqua, The Archies, Aretha Franklin, Argent, The Association, Azure Ray, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Bad Company, Bad English, Badfinger, The Bangles, The Barenaked Ladies, Barry McGuire, The Bay City Rollers, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, Belinda Carlisle, Belle And Sebastian, Ben Taylor, Bethy Pants, Better Than Ezra, Bif Naked, Bikini Kill, Bill Haley & The Comets, Billie Holliday, Billy Idol, Billy Joe Royal, Billy Joel, The Black Crowes, Black Flag, Black Sabbath, Blind Melon, Blink 182, Blondie, The Bloodhound Gang, Blu Cantrell, Blue Oyster Cult, Blues Traveller, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Bob Seger, Bobby Darin, Bon Jovi, Bonnie Tyler, Boston, Bread, Bryan Adams, Buddy Holly, Buffalo Springfield, Buffy, Bush, The Byrds, Cabaret, The Cadillacs, The Calling, Canibis & Biz Markie, The Care Bears Theme, Carly Simon, The Carpenters, The Cars, Cat Stevens, Catherine Wheel, Cats, Chad Kroeger & Josey Scott, The Chambers Brothers, The Chantels, The Charlie Daniels Band, Charlie Pride, Cheap Trick, Chicago (the show, not the band), Chris Brayman, Chris Rock, Chuck Berry, Clarence Carter, The Clash, Coldplay, Collective Soul, Collin Raye, Counting Crows, Cowboys Junkies, The Cowsills, Coyote Shivers, Cracker, Craig Davis, The Cranberries, Crazytown, Cream, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Critters, Crosby Stills & Nash, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Crowded House, Crushing Velvet, The Cure, Curve, Cyndi Lauper, Daftpunk, Danny & The Juniors, Dante Thomas, Dave Brubeck, Dave Edmunds, Dave Mason, David Bowie, The David the Gnome Theme, The Dead Kennedys, Debbie Gibson, Deep Blue Something, Deep Purple, Def Leppard, Del, Derek & The Dominoes, Devics, Dion, Dion & The Belmonts, Dire Straits, Disturbed, Divinyls, The Dixie Chicks, Dobie Gray, Don Mclean, Donna Summer, The Doobie Brothers, The Doors, Dragonheart, The Drifters, Dropkick Murphys, Dubs, The Duprees, Duran Duran, Eagle Eye Cherry, Eddie Money, The Edgar Winter Group, Edie Brickell, Edith Piaf, Edith Piaf & Charles Aznavour, Edwin McCain, Ella Fitzgerald, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong, Elliot Smith, Electric Light Orchestra, ELP, Elton John, Elvis Costello, Elvis Presley, Eminem, En Vogue, Enigma, Eric Clapton, Erykah Badu, Etta James, Eve, Eve 6, Everclear, Everlast, The Exploited, Faith Hill, Fear, Fear Factory, Feeder, Feel, Fifi, The Fifth Dimension, Filter, Fiona Apple, Firm, Five For Fighting, The Flamingos, Fleetwood Mac, The Flys, Focus, Foghat, Foo Fighters, The Four Tops, François Couperin, Frank Sinatra, Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, Free, Fuel, Garbage, Garth Brooks, Gary Glitter, Genesis, George Clinton & The Parliament Funkadelic, George Harrison, George Thorogood, Generation X, The Georgia Satellites, Geto Boys, Gladys Knight, Gloria Gaynor, The Go Gos, Godhead, Goldfinger, The Goo Goo Dolls, Gorillaz, Grand Funk Railroad, The Grateful Dead, Green Day, The Guess Who, The Gummi Bears Theme, Guns N' Roses, Guster, The Harptones, Harry Chapin, Harry Nilsson, Heart, Heath Allyn, Hole, The Hollies, Holly Golightly, House Of Pain, Howard Stern, Howie Day, Humble Pie, Ian Van Dahl, Iggy Pop, Incubus, India Arie, The Indigo Girls, INXS, Iron Butterfly, Iron Maiden, Ivy, Jack Ingram, Jackson Browne, Jake Lee Rau, James Brown, The James Gang, James Marsters, James Taylor, Janis Ian, Janis Joplin, Jay Chow, The Jayhawks, Jean Phillipe Rameau, Jeff Buckley, Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, Jennifer Armentrout, Jennifer Lopez, Jethro Tull, Jewel, Jim Croce, Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix & John Lennon, Jimmy Buffett, Jimmy Eat World, Joan Baez, Joan Jett, Joan Osborne, Joe Cocker, Joe Walsh, Joey Scarbury, Johann Pachelbel, Johann Sebastian Bach, John Cougar Mellencamp, John Mellencamp, John Fogerty, John Lennon, John Prine, Johnny & Joe, Johnny Cash, Johnny Maestro, Joni Mitchell, Josh Groban, Joshua Kadison, Josie And The Pussycats, Journey, Judas Priest, Juvenile Wreck, Kansas, Kelly Osbourne, Kenny Chesney, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Kermit The Frog, King Missle, King's Quest, The Kingsmen, The Kinks, Kirsten Dunst, KISS, The Knack, LA Guns, Lara Fabian, Lauryn Hill, Lava Baby, Leann Womack, Led Zeppelin, Lee Michaels, The Lemon Pipers, Lenny Kravitz, Leonard Nimoy, Les Misérables, Letters To Cleo, Lifehouse, Lisa Lougheed, Live, Lou Reed, Lovin' Spoonful, Lucinda Williams, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Madonna, Mary J Blige, Mason Williams, Matchbox 20, Matthew Sweet, The Maya The Bee Theme (in English and Hebrew), Mazzy Star, Me, Meatloaf, Melanie C, Melanie Doane, Melissa Etheridge, Michelle Branch, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Milla Jovovich, Minor Threat, Missy Elliott, Missy Elliott & Nelly Furtado, Moby & Gwen Stefani, Modern English, The Moody Blues, Moondogg, Mötley Crüe, Motorace, Mountain, Mr. Big, Muddy Waters, My Vitriol, Mystikal, Nancy Wilson, Natalie Merchant, Nazareth, Neil Young, Neko Case, Nelly Furtado, Nena, Nerf Herder, The New Kids On The Block, The New Pornographers, The New Seekers, The New York Dolls, Newsies, Nicole, Nina Simone, Nine Inch Nails, Nirvana, No Doubt, Norman Greenbaum, Oasis, The Offspring, One Time Angels, Ophelia's Mirror, The Oranges Band, Otis Redding, The Outlaws, Ozzy Osbourne, Papa Roach, Pat Benatar, Patti Labelle, Patti Smith, Patty Loveless, Patty Smyth, Paul McCartney, Paul Simon, Paul Williams, Paula Abdul, Paula Cole, The Penguins, Pete Townshend, Pete Yorn, Peter Frampton, Peter Paul & Mary, Phantom Planet, Phil Collins, Pink, Pink Floyd, The Pinwheel Theme, The Pizzicato Five, The Platters, The Police, The Pop Mafia, The Presidents of the United States of America, The Pretenders, Procol Harum, Psychedelic Furs, Puddle Of Mudd, Pure Prarie League, Queen, Rage Against The Machine, Rainbow, The Ramones, Rancid, Randy & The Rainbows, Randy Newman, Randy Travis, Rare Earth, Rasputina, Ray Charles, The Real McCoy, Reba McIntyre, The Regents, REM, Richard Marx, Richard Marx & Donna Lewis, Right Said Fred, Rob Halford, Rob Zombie, Robert Miles, Robert Plant, Roberta Flack, Rod Stewart, Rodney Crowell, The Rolling Stones, The Romantics, Roxette, Rush, Ryan Adams, Salt-N-Pepa, Samantha Mumba, Sammy Hagar, Santana, Sarah McLachlan, Savage Garden, Scandal, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Scott & Todd, Semisonic, The Sex Pistols, Sha-Na-Na, Shawn Colvin, Sheila Nicholls, Sheryl Crow, Sigur Rós, Simon & Garfunkel, The Simpsons, Skeeter Davis, The Skyliners, Sleater-Kinney, Smashing Pumpkins, Sophie B. Hawkins, Sophie Zelmani, Souldecision, Southside Johnny, Spacehog, The Specials, The Spice Girls, Split Enz, Squeeze, SR-71, Staind, Steely Dan, Steppenwolf, Steve Martin, The Steve Miller Band, Stevie Nicks, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Stillwater, Sting, The Stooges, Stone Temple Pilots, Stories, The Stray Cats,The Strokes, Strong Bad, Styx, Sublime, Sugarloaf, The Suicide Machines, Sum 41, The Supremes, Susanna Hoffs, Sweet, Switchfoot, Sydney Forest, System Of A Down, T. Rex, Talking Heads, The Temptations, Tenacious D, Tesla, Texas, The Band, The Hobbit, The Little Mermaid, Thelma Houston, Thunderclap Newton, Tiffany, Tim McGraw, Tim McGraw & Faith Hill, Tina Turner, Toad The Wet Sprocket, The Toadies, Todd Rundgren, Tom Petty, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, Tom Waits, Tool, Tori Amos, Tracy Chapman, Traffic, Train, Trisha Yearwood, The Troggs, The Turtles, Twisted Sister, U2, Ugly Kid Joe, Valerie Lewis, The Vandals, Van Halen, Van Morrison, Vanilla Fudge, The Velvet Underground, Vertical Horizon, Vitamin C, Vixen, War, Warrant, Warren Zevon, Weezer, Weird Al Yankovich, Wheatus, The White Stripes, Whitesnake, Whitney Houston, The Who, Wilson Pickett, Wings, The Yardbirds, Yes, The Youngbloods, Zebra, ZZ Top
Reaction?
Deep breath, here goes.
10cc, 10,000 Maniacs, 3 Doors Down, 311, 38 Special, A3, Aaliyah, Aaliyah & Timbaland, ABBA, Abra Moore, ACDC, Ace Frehley, Adam Sandler, The Adolescents, Aerosmith, Aimee Mann, Air, Al Green, Alabama, Alanis Morissette, Alannah Myles, Alex Toh, Alice Cooper, Alice Deejay, Alicia Keys, Alison Krauss & Union Station, Alix Olson, Allison Moorer, The Allman Brothers Band, Alphaville, Alvin And The Chipmunks, Amanda Ghost, America, Andrea Bocelli, Andrew Bird (And His Bowl Of Fire), Andrew Lloyd Webber, Ani DiFranco, The Animals, Antonio Vivaldi, Aqua, The Archies, Aretha Franklin, Argent, The Association, Azure Ray, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Bad Company, Bad English, Badfinger, The Bangles, The Barenaked Ladies, Barry McGuire, The Bay City Rollers, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, Belinda Carlisle, Belle And Sebastian, Ben Taylor, Bethy Pants, Better Than Ezra, Bif Naked, Bikini Kill, Bill Haley & The Comets, Billie Holliday, Billy Idol, Billy Joe Royal, Billy Joel, The Black Crowes, Black Flag, Black Sabbath, Blind Melon, Blink 182, Blondie, The Bloodhound Gang, Blu Cantrell, Blue Oyster Cult, Blues Traveller, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Bob Seger, Bobby Darin, Bon Jovi, Bonnie Tyler, Boston, Bread, Bryan Adams, Buddy Holly, Buffalo Springfield, Buffy, Bush, The Byrds, Cabaret, The Cadillacs, The Calling, Canibis & Biz Markie, The Care Bears Theme, Carly Simon, The Carpenters, The Cars, Cat Stevens, Catherine Wheel, Cats, Chad Kroeger & Josey Scott, The Chambers Brothers, The Chantels, The Charlie Daniels Band, Charlie Pride, Cheap Trick, Chicago (the show, not the band), Chris Brayman, Chris Rock, Chuck Berry, Clarence Carter, The Clash, Coldplay, Collective Soul, Collin Raye, Counting Crows, Cowboys Junkies, The Cowsills, Coyote Shivers, Cracker, Craig Davis, The Cranberries, Crazytown, Cream, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Critters, Crosby Stills & Nash, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Crowded House, Crushing Velvet, The Cure, Curve, Cyndi Lauper, Daftpunk, Danny & The Juniors, Dante Thomas, Dave Brubeck, Dave Edmunds, Dave Mason, David Bowie, The David the Gnome Theme, The Dead Kennedys, Debbie Gibson, Deep Blue Something, Deep Purple, Def Leppard, Del, Derek & The Dominoes, Devics, Dion, Dion & The Belmonts, Dire Straits, Disturbed, Divinyls, The Dixie Chicks, Dobie Gray, Don Mclean, Donna Summer, The Doobie Brothers, The Doors, Dragonheart, The Drifters, Dropkick Murphys, Dubs, The Duprees, Duran Duran, Eagle Eye Cherry, Eddie Money, The Edgar Winter Group, Edie Brickell, Edith Piaf, Edith Piaf & Charles Aznavour, Edwin McCain, Ella Fitzgerald, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong, Elliot Smith, Electric Light Orchestra, ELP, Elton John, Elvis Costello, Elvis Presley, Eminem, En Vogue, Enigma, Eric Clapton, Erykah Badu, Etta James, Eve, Eve 6, Everclear, Everlast, The Exploited, Faith Hill, Fear, Fear Factory, Feeder, Feel, Fifi, The Fifth Dimension, Filter, Fiona Apple, Firm, Five For Fighting, The Flamingos, Fleetwood Mac, The Flys, Focus, Foghat, Foo Fighters, The Four Tops, François Couperin, Frank Sinatra, Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, Free, Fuel, Garbage, Garth Brooks, Gary Glitter, Genesis, George Clinton & The Parliament Funkadelic, George Harrison, George Thorogood, Generation X, The Georgia Satellites, Geto Boys, Gladys Knight, Gloria Gaynor, The Go Gos, Godhead, Goldfinger, The Goo Goo Dolls, Gorillaz, Grand Funk Railroad, The Grateful Dead, Green Day, The Guess Who, The Gummi Bears Theme, Guns N' Roses, Guster, The Harptones, Harry Chapin, Harry Nilsson, Heart, Heath Allyn, Hole, The Hollies, Holly Golightly, House Of Pain, Howard Stern, Howie Day, Humble Pie, Ian Van Dahl, Iggy Pop, Incubus, India Arie, The Indigo Girls, INXS, Iron Butterfly, Iron Maiden, Ivy, Jack Ingram, Jackson Browne, Jake Lee Rau, James Brown, The James Gang, James Marsters, James Taylor, Janis Ian, Janis Joplin, Jay Chow, The Jayhawks, Jean Phillipe Rameau, Jeff Buckley, Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, Jennifer Armentrout, Jennifer Lopez, Jethro Tull, Jewel, Jim Croce, Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix & John Lennon, Jimmy Buffett, Jimmy Eat World, Joan Baez, Joan Jett, Joan Osborne, Joe Cocker, Joe Walsh, Joey Scarbury, Johann Pachelbel, Johann Sebastian Bach, John Cougar Mellencamp, John Mellencamp, John Fogerty, John Lennon, John Prine, Johnny & Joe, Johnny Cash, Johnny Maestro, Joni Mitchell, Josh Groban, Joshua Kadison, Josie And The Pussycats, Journey, Judas Priest, Juvenile Wreck, Kansas, Kelly Osbourne, Kenny Chesney, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Kermit The Frog, King Missle, King's Quest, The Kingsmen, The Kinks, Kirsten Dunst, KISS, The Knack, LA Guns, Lara Fabian, Lauryn Hill, Lava Baby, Leann Womack, Led Zeppelin, Lee Michaels, The Lemon Pipers, Lenny Kravitz, Leonard Nimoy, Les Misérables, Letters To Cleo, Lifehouse, Lisa Lougheed, Live, Lou Reed, Lovin' Spoonful, Lucinda Williams, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Madonna, Mary J Blige, Mason Williams, Matchbox 20, Matthew Sweet, The Maya The Bee Theme (in English and Hebrew), Mazzy Star, Me, Meatloaf, Melanie C, Melanie Doane, Melissa Etheridge, Michelle Branch, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Milla Jovovich, Minor Threat, Missy Elliott, Missy Elliott & Nelly Furtado, Moby & Gwen Stefani, Modern English, The Moody Blues, Moondogg, Mötley Crüe, Motorace, Mountain, Mr. Big, Muddy Waters, My Vitriol, Mystikal, Nancy Wilson, Natalie Merchant, Nazareth, Neil Young, Neko Case, Nelly Furtado, Nena, Nerf Herder, The New Kids On The Block, The New Pornographers, The New Seekers, The New York Dolls, Newsies, Nicole, Nina Simone, Nine Inch Nails, Nirvana, No Doubt, Norman Greenbaum, Oasis, The Offspring, One Time Angels, Ophelia's Mirror, The Oranges Band, Otis Redding, The Outlaws, Ozzy Osbourne, Papa Roach, Pat Benatar, Patti Labelle, Patti Smith, Patty Loveless, Patty Smyth, Paul McCartney, Paul Simon, Paul Williams, Paula Abdul, Paula Cole, The Penguins, Pete Townshend, Pete Yorn, Peter Frampton, Peter Paul & Mary, Phantom Planet, Phil Collins, Pink, Pink Floyd, The Pinwheel Theme, The Pizzicato Five, The Platters, The Police, The Pop Mafia, The Presidents of the United States of America, The Pretenders, Procol Harum, Psychedelic Furs, Puddle Of Mudd, Pure Prarie League, Queen, Rage Against The Machine, Rainbow, The Ramones, Rancid, Randy & The Rainbows, Randy Newman, Randy Travis, Rare Earth, Rasputina, Ray Charles, The Real McCoy, Reba McIntyre, The Regents, REM, Richard Marx, Richard Marx & Donna Lewis, Right Said Fred, Rob Halford, Rob Zombie, Robert Miles, Robert Plant, Roberta Flack, Rod Stewart, Rodney Crowell, The Rolling Stones, The Romantics, Roxette, Rush, Ryan Adams, Salt-N-Pepa, Samantha Mumba, Sammy Hagar, Santana, Sarah McLachlan, Savage Garden, Scandal, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Scott & Todd, Semisonic, The Sex Pistols, Sha-Na-Na, Shawn Colvin, Sheila Nicholls, Sheryl Crow, Sigur Rós, Simon & Garfunkel, The Simpsons, Skeeter Davis, The Skyliners, Sleater-Kinney, Smashing Pumpkins, Sophie B. Hawkins, Sophie Zelmani, Souldecision, Southside Johnny, Spacehog, The Specials, The Spice Girls, Split Enz, Squeeze, SR-71, Staind, Steely Dan, Steppenwolf, Steve Martin, The Steve Miller Band, Stevie Nicks, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Stillwater, Sting, The Stooges, Stone Temple Pilots, Stories, The Stray Cats,The Strokes, Strong Bad, Styx, Sublime, Sugarloaf, The Suicide Machines, Sum 41, The Supremes, Susanna Hoffs, Sweet, Switchfoot, Sydney Forest, System Of A Down, T. Rex, Talking Heads, The Temptations, Tenacious D, Tesla, Texas, The Band, The Hobbit, The Little Mermaid, Thelma Houston, Thunderclap Newton, Tiffany, Tim McGraw, Tim McGraw & Faith Hill, Tina Turner, Toad The Wet Sprocket, The Toadies, Todd Rundgren, Tom Petty, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, Tom Waits, Tool, Tori Amos, Tracy Chapman, Traffic, Train, Trisha Yearwood, The Troggs, The Turtles, Twisted Sister, U2, Ugly Kid Joe, Valerie Lewis, The Vandals, Van Halen, Van Morrison, Vanilla Fudge, The Velvet Underground, Vertical Horizon, Vitamin C, Vixen, War, Warrant, Warren Zevon, Weezer, Weird Al Yankovich, Wheatus, The White Stripes, Whitesnake, Whitney Houston, The Who, Wilson Pickett, Wings, The Yardbirds, Yes, The Youngbloods, Zebra, ZZ Top
Reaction?
Sunday
Also.
I think I look really pretty in my picture. Upsettingly pretty.
This would be me fishing for compliments to make me feel better, by the way. Please oblige?
This would be me fishing for compliments to make me feel better, by the way. Please oblige?
Um.
My new abode has no 'net access. Or cable. Ha! It will soon, though, in theory. Or at least, it better. I have my last exam tomorrow, and then I have to haul my ass out of here. Well, actually, my ass will be hauled after Buffy on Tuesday, because you know what? You really can't get UPN reception without cable.
I feel all... eh. There are things going on. School years ending, moving of things, everyone is making some sort of change. Including me. And yet I feel like absolutely nothing is happening. Everyone is doing, and my horrible depressing life is completely static in it's horrible depression. If I knew what the fuck was wrong with me, I'd cry. Right now though, I think I'm too confused.
For Superhero Girl, your moment of Salinger: My mother finally bought new girly wax. I was all zealous about that, so I decided to shape the outside of my eyebrows. Of course, a micromillimeter of sloppiness, and I pulled off a small chunk of my actual eyebrow. I was horrified. Of course, it's actually not that big a gap, and with a small bit of black eyebrow pencil, no one could even tell, even at close inspection that anything was wrong with me. But I still felt like I had only one eyebrow. That's kind of how my days have been lately.
I hope that my exam tomorrow is late. That way I won't have to start studying until tomorrow. Hey, you know what would be so totally awesome? If my life just suddenly and spontaneously ended. That would be the most pleasant of gifts.
I feel all... eh. There are things going on. School years ending, moving of things, everyone is making some sort of change. Including me. And yet I feel like absolutely nothing is happening. Everyone is doing, and my horrible depressing life is completely static in it's horrible depression. If I knew what the fuck was wrong with me, I'd cry. Right now though, I think I'm too confused.
For Superhero Girl, your moment of Salinger: My mother finally bought new girly wax. I was all zealous about that, so I decided to shape the outside of my eyebrows. Of course, a micromillimeter of sloppiness, and I pulled off a small chunk of my actual eyebrow. I was horrified. Of course, it's actually not that big a gap, and with a small bit of black eyebrow pencil, no one could even tell, even at close inspection that anything was wrong with me. But I still felt like I had only one eyebrow. That's kind of how my days have been lately.
I hope that my exam tomorrow is late. That way I won't have to start studying until tomorrow. Hey, you know what would be so totally awesome? If my life just suddenly and spontaneously ended. That would be the most pleasant of gifts.
Friday
Sunlight, what?
I need to start packing stuff. I so haven't even started. Also, there'll a movie on Sundance in about an hour called Amy's Orgasm . Is there any way at all that I will not be staying up to watch this? I think not! Nope. None at all.
Thursday
Wednesday
Angel.
[Begin Spoiler for Home, 4.22 — Highlight to view]
Wesley, Jesus. You and dead Lilah are so queer for each other, why don't you just admit it? Emotional assy-ness is so last year.
That was pretty awesome. But does this mean no more German boy? That would make me rather upset. German boy is awesome. This so needs to be not the last episode of this show.
[End Spoiler]
Wesley, Jesus. You and dead Lilah are so queer for each other, why don't you just admit it? Emotional assy-ness is so last year.
That was pretty awesome. But does this mean no more German boy? That would make me rather upset. German boy is awesome. This so needs to be not the last episode of this show.
[End Spoiler]
Why I love the Pants.
If I were to say to Beth, at around one o'clock in the morning, "Hey Beth! I want my blog to look all different. Design me a new template!" she would respond "Well sure!"
Fin, this chapter.
Fin, this chapter.
Tuesday
Update on the state of my personal well-being.
The panic attacks are becoming more frequent and less manageable.
Wednesday
Monday
Oh, importance!
If you have my home address, you no longer have my home address. For I have moved. Thus, if anything were to be sent to my former address, I probably wouldn't ever get it. (Note: Um... this isn't a subliminal message to send me stuff, or anything.) Any parties interesting in learning of my new whereabouts should contact me via email. If you don't have my email address, tell me so and I'll get to rectifying that.
My home phone number is still the same. In fact, nothing changed from a mail standpoint except my street address.
Thank you.
My home phone number is still the same. In fact, nothing changed from a mail standpoint except my street address.
Thank you.
Sunday
April 2003
Dear Amy,
Last month, our office conducted a survey of students, like yourself, who are receiving financial assistance through the state's Outstanding Scholars Recruitment Program (OSRP). The response to the survey was excellent, as over half of all OSRP students completed the program questionnaire. For your information, I am pleased to share with you the results of that survey.
98% of the university's Outstanding Scholars considered the OSRP scholarship to be Very Important (82%) or Somewhat Important (16%) in their decision to attend Rutgers.
Three-fourths of the university's Outstanding Scholars had been accepted by out-of-state colleges or universities before choosing to attend Rutgers.
68% of the university's Outstanding Scholars plan on attending graduate school after completing their undergraduate work at Rutgers, while 32% intend to enter the workforce.
Two-thirds of the university's Outstanding Scholars plan on staying in New Jersey following graduation from Rutgers.
Clearly, the Outstanding Scholars Recruitment Program has played a vital role in attracting the best and brightest of New Jersey's high school graduates to our state university.
In other words.... we're all here because we're poor and you paid us. I could have told you that. Thank you for reminding me why I am here. ...Oh, and there was other stuff after that blah blah legislators... who cares.
Last month, our office conducted a survey of students, like yourself, who are receiving financial assistance through the state's Outstanding Scholars Recruitment Program (OSRP). The response to the survey was excellent, as over half of all OSRP students completed the program questionnaire. For your information, I am pleased to share with you the results of that survey.
98% of the university's Outstanding Scholars considered the OSRP scholarship to be Very Important (82%) or Somewhat Important (16%) in their decision to attend Rutgers.
Three-fourths of the university's Outstanding Scholars had been accepted by out-of-state colleges or universities before choosing to attend Rutgers.
68% of the university's Outstanding Scholars plan on attending graduate school after completing their undergraduate work at Rutgers, while 32% intend to enter the workforce.
Two-thirds of the university's Outstanding Scholars plan on staying in New Jersey following graduation from Rutgers.
Clearly, the Outstanding Scholars Recruitment Program has played a vital role in attracting the best and brightest of New Jersey's high school graduates to our state university.
In other words.... we're all here because we're poor and you paid us. I could have told you that. Thank you for reminding me why I am here. ...Oh, and there was other stuff after that blah blah legislators... who cares.
Friday
And now for something completely different.
I just walked in my hall, and I smelled the scent of warm food. I could not tell if it was hamburgers or waffles.
Then I thought about that and realized that was pretty gross.
I am now watching The Ring. I hope it's more effective than it was on Matt.
Then I thought about that and realized that was pretty gross.
I am now watching The Ring. I hope it's more effective than it was on Matt.
"It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl."
Several weeks ago. Or... I don't know [accurate measure of time] ago, I saw a play in Princeton called Fiction . It was, I must say, excellent. I really, really, really adored it, and on the way back home, I was thinking of all sorts of things to write about it. And then, what with my life needing to be a never ending cycle of shit, shit prevented me from continuing to want to do that. Um... I'm still not going to talk about it. But, anyway, I had to see it for a class, and last week, we discussed it in class. Only my professor (who I ordinarily 'be cool wit') said that the discussion was going to be brief, because he hadn't seen it. Thought it was running longer than it was, blah blah, whatever. Ass. Now, I know it's not his fault, and it's not as if this is a theme. But this was so much better than the usually dreck he sends us off to see and critique, and I was really genuinely disappointed with him that he couldn't provide me with any intelligent discourse on it. Also, the class was small that day, because... well, it's a long story that can pretty much be summed up with the word "douchebags". And of course, no one there appreciated it the way I did, and they hadn't paid attention, several of them didn't go as well. Yet they keep expressing opinions about it. It was so annoying. Their opinions could be logically countermanded, and were formed on part of the show missed, and then the people who hadn't even been to the show started expressing their opinions based on the bullshit they had been hearing from the people who hadn't paid attention.
I wanted to explode. I can't enjoy anything. And I wish to God that people who don't know what they're talking about would just stop talking.
I long to interact with normal, agreeable people. If only I knew where I could get me some of those.
I wanted to explode. I can't enjoy anything. And I wish to God that people who don't know what they're talking about would just stop talking.
I long to interact with normal, agreeable people. If only I knew where I could get me some of those.
Tuesday
To quote Kirk.
"Internet people are weird. I am not like them."
[sigh ] Seriously, we you all always this fucked up and I just never noticed, or is it a more recent development?
[sigh ] Seriously, we you all always this fucked up and I just never noticed, or is it a more recent development?
Sunday
Bye, house.
So, the moveout date is Tuesday. But for me, the moveout date was today, as I am now back at school. Which means that I've walked out of "my house" for the last time. It was weird. I remember distinctly the first time I walked in it (I was three). I didn't like it. My neighbor is unpleasant. The houses are too close together for my liking. And I never did figure out why we aren't religious enough to go to church ever, but we are religious enough to keep a statue of Mary in our backyard. Pfft!
The stairway and the upstairs hallways are bordered by a white bannister. The one little pole-dealy on the corner over the stairs (this would make more sense if you knew what I was talking about) has been lose since we moved in. Of course, this did not prevent me from grabbing it and using it for some swinging-leverage (like a monkey) whenever I came up or down the stairs. I always wondered how long it would hold up. Well, it broke today. Probably when my father was moving stuff downstairs. Figures. Anyway, that's the sort of day it was. [/what?]
Eh. I feel like I should feel. I made sure I walked through all the rooms, and "say goodbye" to them. There's a crawlspace in the basement behind the boiler. We somehow managed to get a large wooden trunk, a suitcase, and my mother's guitar back there, but there doesn't seem to be a pratical way to get them out. So we're leaving them there. My sister said she doesn't want to know if anything has nested in it or something. This turn of events pisses me off. Anyway, so, I was was having all these nostalgic feelings upon my departure, but, you know, in an apathetic way. I did lay down on the bed in the spare room and I wound up falling asleep. Eeeehhhhh.
I left early, because the computer was disconnected, and so was my VCR, so I didn't really know what time it was. "American Pie" played on the radio. That was pretty neat. Did you know that the Joker refers to Bob Dylan?
So, I'm going to go back up next weekend, to help my mother unpack. I have to work on some... well, work this week, and i'm going to go see one of my professors and lie to him shamelessly about why I've been such a lazy schmo this semester. This will be odd. And tiring. I don't have a home anymore, I've realized. I mean, I'll never be homeless. There are lots of places that I can stay, at all times. But I'll be living in "my mother's house" now. There is no "my house". I think of it as my mother's house. I don't have any attachment to it. So I don't really have a home. That idea makes me feel very tired.
Hey, did you know that it's Easter? I found that out this weekend, because I was presented with chocolate. Go Jesus. I miss Human contact.
In other news, where the devil is bettie?
The stairway and the upstairs hallways are bordered by a white bannister. The one little pole-dealy on the corner over the stairs (this would make more sense if you knew what I was talking about) has been lose since we moved in. Of course, this did not prevent me from grabbing it and using it for some swinging-leverage (like a monkey) whenever I came up or down the stairs. I always wondered how long it would hold up. Well, it broke today. Probably when my father was moving stuff downstairs. Figures. Anyway, that's the sort of day it was. [/what?]
Eh. I feel like I should feel. I made sure I walked through all the rooms, and "say goodbye" to them. There's a crawlspace in the basement behind the boiler. We somehow managed to get a large wooden trunk, a suitcase, and my mother's guitar back there, but there doesn't seem to be a pratical way to get them out. So we're leaving them there. My sister said she doesn't want to know if anything has nested in it or something. This turn of events pisses me off. Anyway, so, I was was having all these nostalgic feelings upon my departure, but, you know, in an apathetic way. I did lay down on the bed in the spare room and I wound up falling asleep. Eeeehhhhh.
I left early, because the computer was disconnected, and so was my VCR, so I didn't really know what time it was. "American Pie" played on the radio. That was pretty neat. Did you know that the Joker refers to Bob Dylan?
So, I'm going to go back up next weekend, to help my mother unpack. I have to work on some... well, work this week, and i'm going to go see one of my professors and lie to him shamelessly about why I've been such a lazy schmo this semester. This will be odd. And tiring. I don't have a home anymore, I've realized. I mean, I'll never be homeless. There are lots of places that I can stay, at all times. But I'll be living in "my mother's house" now. There is no "my house". I think of it as my mother's house. I don't have any attachment to it. So I don't really have a home. That idea makes me feel very tired.
Hey, did you know that it's Easter? I found that out this weekend, because I was presented with chocolate. Go Jesus. I miss Human contact.
In other news, where the devil is bettie?
Thursday
Geez, God. You're so petty.
I think the almighty was a bit miffed at my weather commentary. For today, I got rained on, and blown the fuck down! I swear to... well, you know. Now, for reference, I weigh about 135 pounds. Um... possibley less, but I don't think so. I've actually been having a substantive meal almost everyday for the past two weeks. Anyway. You'd think this would be enough bulk to allow me to keep my frame upright. BUT YOU'D BE WRONG! I was actually knocked over by the wind today. Knocked over. By the goddamn wind. I could all but hear it yell "CHILDREN!" at me.
Oh, also, my day was completely crap besides. I did however just take an exam without having studied for it or done any of the readings, and I was still able to answer all the questions. And now I don't have to leave my room anymore. So, perhaps things are looking up.
Oh, also, my day was completely crap besides. I did however just take an exam without having studied for it or done any of the readings, and I was still able to answer all the questions. And now I don't have to leave my room anymore. So, perhaps things are looking up.
Tuesday
Um. This probably is not good.
I think I'm cracking up. No, I mean, really. I chronciled my problems with warmer weather, yes? The bugs, the heat, the light, the noise, the smells, the crushing, teeming, herds of people? It's really a problem. I can't deal with it. There's this painful constriction in my chest, and I get disoriented, and scared, and I want to scream and cry and start punching people and run away. I'm shaking. I don't want to leave my fucking room. I've only gone to two classes so far this week. And that's too much.
I really think that I am crazy.
I really think that I am crazy.
Sunday
As the Earth's bountiful Skin, your Dragon color is...TAN
A TAN Dragon Lies Beneath!
I took the Inner Dragon online quiz and found out I am a Tan Dragon on the inside. My Inner Dragon is the true draconic magic-user. Tans have been all but forgotten in popular literature, but that suits them just fine. They're slightly shy and spend most of their time in impassable mountain valleys. When feeling brave or adventurous, Tans use their shape-shifting ability to blend in with society. Given a choice, however, Tans still much prefer to be left to their own devices.
I like to spend time devising new and interesting spells, and counting my gigantic treasure. My favorable attributes are longevity, security, magic, and reverence for life. To top it off, my breath weapon is a curious mix of Fire and Air. Just tell folks to watch out, like all Tans I've got a seriously short temper!
......Eh?
About me and the things I do
I have decided not to go to my first two classes tomorrow. I decided this early today, and that's very freeing. Now I can do nothing this evening, (ie, I can fiddle around online) and sleep late tomorrow, and perhaps actually do constructive school things.
Um... I probably won't do constructive school things, but let's just assume that I might.
See? It's all planned. Not spontaneous. That makes it less like slacking.
Um... I probably won't do constructive school things, but let's just assume that I might.
See? It's all planned. Not spontaneous. That makes it less like slacking.
Saturday
Way to go, Jimmy - fuck you, Q104.
I am truly an independent woman today. I decided that I wanted cookies, and so I drove to the store at 10:00 PM to buy myself some cookie-making ingredients. On this excursion, I happened to catch some radio chatter on the following subject:
The "reunion tour" of Led Zeppelin. [shudder ] Now, according to announcer dude, Jimmy Page recently stated that there's "no way". Then, the announcer dude expressed skepticism, and disappointment at this claim. He assured listeners that such an endeavor will surely come to pass. Fuck you, announcer dude.
Led Zeppelin cannot rejoin, because Led Zeppelin exists only in the past. Led Zeppelin was a band consisting of four musicians: Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham. Of course and as you know, John Bonham, he be dead. Sans Bonzo, you have Plant, Page, and Jones. That's not Led Zeppelin, that's Plant, Page, and Jones. The three of them recognized at the tail end of 1980 that they were not Led Zeppelin without Bonham, and thus Led Zeppelin became officially no more.
So, reunion tour my ass.
I don't want them to become The Who. Half its members dead, half the remaining incarcerated, and yet, Somehow!, it's still a complete band.[/I've used this joke too much.]
The "reunion tour" of Led Zeppelin. [shudder ] Now, according to announcer dude, Jimmy Page recently stated that there's "no way". Then, the announcer dude expressed skepticism, and disappointment at this claim. He assured listeners that such an endeavor will surely come to pass. Fuck you, announcer dude.
Led Zeppelin cannot rejoin, because Led Zeppelin exists only in the past. Led Zeppelin was a band consisting of four musicians: Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham. Of course and as you know, John Bonham, he be dead. Sans Bonzo, you have Plant, Page, and Jones. That's not Led Zeppelin, that's Plant, Page, and Jones. The three of them recognized at the tail end of 1980 that they were not Led Zeppelin without Bonham, and thus Led Zeppelin became officially no more.
So, reunion tour my ass.
I don't want them to become The Who. Half its members dead, half the remaining incarcerated, and yet, Somehow!, it's still a complete band.[/I've used this joke too much.]
Thursday
Eeeee!!
Eeee! I got a letter today. It was from Crystal! It contained Crystal art!! CRYSTAL ART! It is so pretty. It is very special.
And I actually gasped when I got it.
That was very nice.
Thank you Crystal
And I actually gasped when I got it.
That was very nice.
Thank you Crystal
Wednesday
FYI
My legs are all sore and bruised. It really sucks. The reason for this is that yesterday (or maybe the day before it, I can't really remember) I fell down the stairs. Yes, stairs, and I fell down them. About half a flight. No one was around at the time, though. So, I really only slightly injured my ego. And, well, legs, obviously.
This makes me sad, for reasons unrelated to my legs.
I will now watch Angel . I hope it makes sense this week. In the meantime, I would like words of sympathy. Thank you.
This makes me sad, for reasons unrelated to my legs.
I will now watch Angel . I hope it makes sense this week. In the meantime, I would like words of sympathy. Thank you.
Tuesday
I hate all people
Especially the friendly ones. Dieter's class has been sparsely populated of late, so he's begun taking attendance. Not that I care, I'm always there anyway. On the bus to my next class, a chick gets on and sits down next to me, and immediately engages me in conversation. Are you amused yet? She recognized me from Dieter's (although I think she called it "class". Pfft.) and apparently this will found our lifelong friendship. So I was pumped for information, and I gave it (major, housing, future plans: "I'm not sure" read: fuck off) because I was disinterested and tired. I could tell from her twattle that we had relatively little in common. I figured that she was probably trying to hit on me, but then she started talking about how she had started her own business (I wasn't listening, so I don't really know) and that she was looking for a few other people to help her out, and she thought it might be something I would like, because I seemed like a real people person. I restrained the urge to laugh in her face, but corrected her that no, I really am not a people person. So, she wasn't hitting on me, just oddly trying to rope me into some kind of job or something. Or maybe she was doing both, I'm not sure, but in any event, I was rather pissed off by this encounter. I sincerely hope that I don't ever have to talk to her again.
People have just been looking at me today. And there's been more talking going on than usual. I have no idea why. I don't look any different today than I do on any other day, at least not that I can tell. What the fuck are they all looking at? I'm really glad that I'm staying inside for the rest of the day.
I had the urge to yell at my professor today. There wasn't really any provocation for me to do so. Perhaps I have rage issues. Anyway, I like her, and she seems nice, but she smiles all the time, and I don't trust that. I think there's something wrong with people who smile all the time. I think it's a way to mask other feelings, and I think those people are disingenuous. Note that I am not saying that I don't trust people who are happy all the time, just people who smile all the time.
I saw my cousin when I went to get my mail. I had to manuever so that she didn't see me. I really didn't feel like talking to her stupid ugly face and pretending that I cared about her drunken escapades and how exciting she finds college.
I really, really hate people. Dieter says that hermits don't follow the natural human agenda. Perhaps I'm not a normal human.
People have just been looking at me today. And there's been more talking going on than usual. I have no idea why. I don't look any different today than I do on any other day, at least not that I can tell. What the fuck are they all looking at? I'm really glad that I'm staying inside for the rest of the day.
I had the urge to yell at my professor today. There wasn't really any provocation for me to do so. Perhaps I have rage issues. Anyway, I like her, and she seems nice, but she smiles all the time, and I don't trust that. I think there's something wrong with people who smile all the time. I think it's a way to mask other feelings, and I think those people are disingenuous. Note that I am not saying that I don't trust people who are happy all the time, just people who smile all the time.
I saw my cousin when I went to get my mail. I had to manuever so that she didn't see me. I really didn't feel like talking to her stupid ugly face and pretending that I cared about her drunken escapades and how exciting she finds college.
I really, really hate people. Dieter says that hermits don't follow the natural human agenda. Perhaps I'm not a normal human.
Monday
!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Oh, that's very well done! Funny how people just don't know when to quit.
*whistles * "
GUah!! Everything you say makes me dislike you! That's it. A fucking jihad on this woman. [/Izzard]
*whistles * "
GUah!! Everything you say makes me dislike you! That's it. A fucking jihad on this woman. [/Izzard]
Today was productive because
I saw two Kirsten Dunst movies that I had not seen before. Of course, she was only in the one for like, five minutes. And I didn't see those minutes. I just saw a lot of Meredith Baxter being a drug addict.
It was a Lifetime movie. She makes much better career choices now.
Also, I'm not really watching the second one, because I have apparently completely lost any attention span that I once had. However, from what I've seen, this movie is most likely offensive to every Native American culture ever , and also marks the fourth film I've seen her in in which her main costume is braids and overalls.
This is productivity.
It was a Lifetime movie. She makes much better career choices now.
Also, I'm not really watching the second one, because I have apparently completely lost any attention span that I once had. However, from what I've seen, this movie is most likely offensive to every Native American culture ever , and also marks the fourth film I've seen her in in which her main costume is braids and overalls.
This is productivity.
Thursday
Wednesday
Tuesday
For your reading pleasure,
I promise that this entry will not be depressing. If you're not me. Um... it'll still be boring, though. There's nothing much I can do about that.
Anyso, I have for a long while been endeavoring to learn myself to sing "Con Te Partiro" in Italian. You know, it's the song the blind guy sings. I kept putting it on hold because it's hard . Seriously. The song starts out with 24 words sung in less than 10 seconds. In Italian! I just could not get it. This, even after looking at all the words and understanding what they mean and crap. Still, no go. So, last night, I decided that I'd help myself out and give me some lexical transcription to go along with the orthography. Translation: I sounded it out.
After doing this, I discovered something neat. Phonology isn't bullshit! The theories and crap that I learned about actually have real world applications, in ways that calculus never has! Suck it, math department! What am I going on about? Well, I had been transcribing words like "te" and "che" as "tay" and "kay", respectively. Um, that's an approximation. I can't figure out how to use IPA in my little box. This, to my English speaking ears, was quite regular, since English (or at least, American English) is just chock full'a dipthongs. However, in Italian, what you say is what's written. (Um... unless there's two "zz"s or a "g" in there. Have I mentioned that I don't really know anything about Italian except how to curse someone off in entertainingly vulgar ways?) There are no dipthongs. "Te" is properly transcribed as "teh", or, [voiceless alveolar plosive][schwa]. And what I was at first writing would, to the Mediterranean ear have been "teh-ee", which is how I realized that there was a contrast between words like "se" (seh) and "sei" (seh-ee), which had been confusing me before. I'd been trying to say "say" and "say-ee " or some nutty thing.
What does this have to do with my crappy singing? Aha! Morae. Syllable weight. The theory goes that syllables are broken down to units of weight, called the mora. If it has more than um.... two morae or something (leave me alone, I forgot) then it's a heavy syllable. All of my dipthongin' was creating all sorts of heavy syllables all over the place, where as Andrea was unencumbered. In the first line, I had added 4 morae. In the second line, I added four more. In those initial ten seconds, I was inserting 8 extraneous um... beats, or something like that. The kicker? After having identified and isolated the problem, I can now sing the troublesome lines with relative ease.
And here I thought I was studying useless stuff. [rolleyes]
Anyso, I have for a long while been endeavoring to learn myself to sing "Con Te Partiro" in Italian. You know, it's the song the blind guy sings. I kept putting it on hold because it's hard . Seriously. The song starts out with 24 words sung in less than 10 seconds. In Italian! I just could not get it. This, even after looking at all the words and understanding what they mean and crap. Still, no go. So, last night, I decided that I'd help myself out and give me some lexical transcription to go along with the orthography. Translation: I sounded it out.
After doing this, I discovered something neat. Phonology isn't bullshit! The theories and crap that I learned about actually have real world applications, in ways that calculus never has! Suck it, math department! What am I going on about? Well, I had been transcribing words like "te" and "che" as "tay" and "kay", respectively. Um, that's an approximation. I can't figure out how to use IPA in my little box. This, to my English speaking ears, was quite regular, since English (or at least, American English) is just chock full'a dipthongs. However, in Italian, what you say is what's written. (Um... unless there's two "zz"s or a "g" in there. Have I mentioned that I don't really know anything about Italian except how to curse someone off in entertainingly vulgar ways?) There are no dipthongs. "Te" is properly transcribed as "teh", or, [voiceless alveolar plosive][schwa]. And what I was at first writing would, to the Mediterranean ear have been "teh-ee", which is how I realized that there was a contrast between words like "se" (seh) and "sei" (seh-ee), which had been confusing me before. I'd been trying to say "say" and "say-ee " or some nutty thing.
What does this have to do with my crappy singing? Aha! Morae. Syllable weight. The theory goes that syllables are broken down to units of weight, called the mora. If it has more than um.... two morae or something (leave me alone, I forgot) then it's a heavy syllable. All of my dipthongin' was creating all sorts of heavy syllables all over the place, where as Andrea was unencumbered. In the first line, I had added 4 morae. In the second line, I added four more. In those initial ten seconds, I was inserting 8 extraneous um... beats, or something like that. The kicker? After having identified and isolated the problem, I can now sing the troublesome lines with relative ease.
And here I thought I was studying useless stuff. [rolleyes]
Monday
An elegant solution.
This deep throes of depression crap is finally starting to affect my school work. Namely, I'm not doing it, and I don't care that I'm not doing it. Well, in one class I'm not. I have to do this thing [edit due to the "thing"'s boring nature] that was due last Thursday, and I don't want to, and more to the point, I'm not going to. At least not tonight. But I told the chap that I would. So, the obvious conclusion that I am led to is: I'm not going to go to that class tomorrow. And! since the class I have right after that is in the same department with a lot of the same people, and my assignment there isn't due until Thursday, I'm not going to go to that one either. That way, they may think I have a legitimate excuse. Which, in my sphere of understanding, I do. This means that I do not have anywhere to be tomorrow until 1 o'clock. Excellent. It'll be crosstitch and Cash for the rest of the... um... morning, I guess.
Isn't my life just so fucking fascinating?
Isn't my life just so fucking fascinating?
Johnny Cash is pretty damn cool.
My current song of choice is his cover of "Hurt" from his new album, whateveritscalled.
Don't listen with sharp objects nearby.
[sigh ]
Don't listen with sharp objects nearby.
[sigh ]
Thursday
Best. Quiz result. Ever.
What's up frigidaire. You are
26%
pickup-able! You're cold and unapproachable, like a big glacier that's unapproachable. And cold. Unlike the Arctic tundra, few even venture to plant their flag in you. You're definitely not a Scorpio, unless you were born between October 23 and November 21. The bad news is that you'll end up miserable and alone, probably knitting doilies out of cat hair. The good news is that this is apparently what you want. Honestly, I don't even feel comfortable talking to you right now, so I'm just gonna go… yeah… wash my friend's hair.
Hee. I still don't know what they're talking about.
26%
pickup-able! You're cold and unapproachable, like a big glacier that's unapproachable. And cold. Unlike the Arctic tundra, few even venture to plant their flag in you. You're definitely not a Scorpio, unless you were born between October 23 and November 21. The bad news is that you'll end up miserable and alone, probably knitting doilies out of cat hair. The good news is that this is apparently what you want. Honestly, I don't even feel comfortable talking to you right now, so I'm just gonna go… yeah… wash my friend's hair.
Hee. I still don't know what they're talking about.
Wednesday
I don't seem to know any men.
I really don't feel like making an entry. However, I this is something that I thought about for the whole bus ride from my dorm to my class, so it must have seemed interesting to me at the time.
I've noticed that I never refer to any person of the opposite gender as being a "man". It's odd. It's just not a word I ever use. The terminology just doesn't fit in my brain. If anyone is so inclined, you can analyze this entry if you wish. Here are the ways in which I ordinarily categorize the males of our specie:
"chap" - a chap is any male person with whom I am unacquainted. Usually found in phrases such as "that chap" or "some chap". occasionally, I'll use it to refer to males I am acquianted with, but only if I'm being off-beat. ex. "What's up with that chap, anyway? He hasn't been around much."
"boy" - a boy is a male person with whom I'm acquainted. This has nothing to do with age, or age relative to me. They can be twice my age, and still be boys.
"cat" - a male person with whom I may or may not be acquianted, but who nevertheless I respect or admire.
I do categorize based on age, though. Older males will occasionally be referred to as "gents". The only requirement that one must meet in order to be called a gent is to have gray hair.
"guy" - when I'm to lazy to use cuter labels, anyone can be a guy.
To the best of my recollection, there has only ever been one person who I've been able to say was a "man" and not have it sound really bizarre to me. I'm not sure what any of that means.
I've noticed that I never refer to any person of the opposite gender as being a "man". It's odd. It's just not a word I ever use. The terminology just doesn't fit in my brain. If anyone is so inclined, you can analyze this entry if you wish. Here are the ways in which I ordinarily categorize the males of our specie:
"chap" - a chap is any male person with whom I am unacquainted. Usually found in phrases such as "that chap" or "some chap". occasionally, I'll use it to refer to males I am acquianted with, but only if I'm being off-beat. ex. "What's up with that chap, anyway? He hasn't been around much."
"boy" - a boy is a male person with whom I'm acquainted. This has nothing to do with age, or age relative to me. They can be twice my age, and still be boys.
"cat" - a male person with whom I may or may not be acquianted, but who nevertheless I respect or admire.
I do categorize based on age, though. Older males will occasionally be referred to as "gents". The only requirement that one must meet in order to be called a gent is to have gray hair.
"guy" - when I'm to lazy to use cuter labels, anyone can be a guy.
To the best of my recollection, there has only ever been one person who I've been able to say was a "man" and not have it sound really bizarre to me. I'm not sure what any of that means.
For Steph and Jess, the dirty perverts.
[Begin Spoiler for Why oral sex is informative. — Highlight to view]
Bear in mind that this comes from the standpoint of evolutionary biology, where sex exists only to help you maintain a reproductive quota.
It allows you to assess the state of... um... things. As for instance, if um... things are not in good health. Diseased um... things are bad for the genetics business, not to mention bad for your um... things. It can also inform you of whether your partners um... things have been in contact with um... things other than your own. Generally, this is something one wants to be aware of. I'll leave you to consider how you can assess the one from the other.
IN CONCLUSION. Oral sex is a component of the forming of more complex social relationships. Essential to the growth and development of the human specie. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must clean my room, and do some homework.
I am such a prude.
[End Spoiler]
I love my spoiler tags. I'm so dumb.
Bear in mind that this comes from the standpoint of evolutionary biology, where sex exists only to help you maintain a reproductive quota.
It allows you to assess the state of... um... things. As for instance, if um... things are not in good health. Diseased um... things are bad for the genetics business, not to mention bad for your um... things. It can also inform you of whether your partners um... things have been in contact with um... things other than your own. Generally, this is something one wants to be aware of. I'll leave you to consider how you can assess the one from the other.
IN CONCLUSION. Oral sex is a component of the forming of more complex social relationships. Essential to the growth and development of the human specie. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must clean my room, and do some homework.
I am such a prude.
[End Spoiler]
I love my spoiler tags. I'm so dumb.
Tuesday
A Buffy prediction.
[Begin Spoiler for speculation based on Buffy 7.17, "Lies My Parents Told Me" — Highlight to view]
Spike will kill Buffy. I will laugh. Also, I'm pretty sure that every post in the sticky thread would piss me off were I to read them. Best not tempt fate.
[End Spoiler]
Spike will kill Buffy. I will laugh. Also, I'm pretty sure that every post in the sticky thread would piss me off were I to read them. Best not tempt fate.
[End Spoiler]
Dieter is awesome. Seriously.
Here's a glimpse at why. 1. His course, Primatology and Human Evolution, for some reason, is on the approved Rutgers list of writing skills courses, meaning that it fulfills my stupid writing skills requirement, meaning that all my Rutgers non-major requirements have been met, which means the Muffin Lord can suck it! Um.
2. Today, we saw a film from which we learned (among other things) that the purpose of oral sex is to be informative.
Also, I made some flip comments about the sunlight the other day, but I really do hate it. Everything is brigther, and louder, and suddenly there are all of these horrible people everywhere. And they all suck. And everything smells more. And your skin sweats more, and your hands collect more grime. And there's bugs. And people who remind you of bugs. And 9 million unattractive girls exposing more and more of their unattractive bodies. If they want to stay cool, perhaps they should try taking off ten or so pounds of their unattractive makeup. And apparently, people lose their hearing, for they feel the need to start blasting music that I really had no intention of ever listening to. Sirs, I can tell that you're morons by the way you drive your supped-up Civic, I don't need the audio cues.
At the moment, it is a gorgeous day. I'm so glad I'm inside.
2. Today, we saw a film from which we learned (among other things) that the purpose of oral sex is to be informative.
Also, I made some flip comments about the sunlight the other day, but I really do hate it. Everything is brigther, and louder, and suddenly there are all of these horrible people everywhere. And they all suck. And everything smells more. And your skin sweats more, and your hands collect more grime. And there's bugs. And people who remind you of bugs. And 9 million unattractive girls exposing more and more of their unattractive bodies. If they want to stay cool, perhaps they should try taking off ten or so pounds of their unattractive makeup. And apparently, people lose their hearing, for they feel the need to start blasting music that I really had no intention of ever listening to. Sirs, I can tell that you're morons by the way you drive your supped-up Civic, I don't need the audio cues.
At the moment, it is a gorgeous day. I'm so glad I'm inside.
Monday
Some stuff kinda actually happened today.
Such is the peril of venturing outside. Alix Olson will be somewhere in the vicinity of my school on Thursday evening, which is very cool. Unfortunately, I need to be in Princeton seeing Fiction at McCarter at that time. And I can't skip it, because I have to write crap about it. Crap. Oh well. At least I've had "Eve's Mouth" stuck in my head since learning this. ....Should become neuron-decimatingly annoying soon.
Also, Wendy's makes fabulous salads. And the almonds come in a seperate baggie, so I don't have to eat them and die. It took me a long and confusing time to find this out though. Also, they had no potatoes. So I asked for freedom fries. Potato. You get it. Anyway, she asked if I wanted the $.99 fries, because the potato would have been $.99. She didn't seem to understand that I did not care about or understand anything about fry pricings. I just wanted a salad that wouldn't kill me and a root vegetable. She could have told me the fries were 5 bucks, and I probably would have payed it. I'm real laid back and gullible like that.
So, I've had a meal. I feel accomplished. Also, my first class on Wednesday will not be taking place, so I don't have to wake up until, like, 5. Score. On my way back from the Wendy's, I saw Katie. Fakest. Smile. Ever. She must hate me more now that she's not living with me. Which is find by me, since, in her absence, I've come to think of her as a real cunt. I don't even care if I'm right or not, I just think it's funny.
Speaking of which, here's a memo.
Memo
To: You.
Re: Why I have no idea who you are, but am incredibly suspicious of you anyway.
WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!?
Thank you.
Also, Wendy's makes fabulous salads. And the almonds come in a seperate baggie, so I don't have to eat them and die. It took me a long and confusing time to find this out though. Also, they had no potatoes. So I asked for freedom fries. Potato. You get it. Anyway, she asked if I wanted the $.99 fries, because the potato would have been $.99. She didn't seem to understand that I did not care about or understand anything about fry pricings. I just wanted a salad that wouldn't kill me and a root vegetable. She could have told me the fries were 5 bucks, and I probably would have payed it. I'm real laid back and gullible like that.
So, I've had a meal. I feel accomplished. Also, my first class on Wednesday will not be taking place, so I don't have to wake up until, like, 5. Score. On my way back from the Wendy's, I saw Katie. Fakest. Smile. Ever. She must hate me more now that she's not living with me. Which is find by me, since, in her absence, I've come to think of her as a real cunt. I don't even care if I'm right or not, I just think it's funny.
Speaking of which, here's a memo.
Memo
To: You.
Re: Why I have no idea who you are, but am incredibly suspicious of you anyway.
WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!?
Thank you.
Also.
I'm going to have to stop watching television. And listening to music. And reading. And talking to people.
Not that I do much of any of those. But I'm thinking it might be best to just stop entirely.
Not that I do much of any of those. But I'm thinking it might be best to just stop entirely.
Sunday
Lobotomies.
How much of your brain can they remove and still leave you relatively you know, alive? I'll have to look into this.
No more the Academy Awards for Amy.
No more the Academy Awards for Amy.
Thursday
Urge to kill... fading.
Rebroadcast Sunday. Acceptable. Also, mass quantities of Advil, also acceptable.
In other hilarious news, fighting broke out at the rally for peace. Ha ha!
I stand my homicidal rantings.
In other hilarious news, fighting broke out at the rally for peace. Ha ha!
I stand my homicidal rantings.
Wednesday
FFFFUUUUUUUUCCKK!!!
I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. I cannot fucking believe this.
I can't imagine explain how fucking upset I am right now. Fucking 9 fucking goddamn shit fucking goddamn 53. WWHAT THE FUCKING HELLL!!!?!@ fffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fucking Christ!!@!
Do yoiu have any idea how much I do not give a shit that we are going to war? Do you have any idea? I don't give a fucking rat's ass. I want us to go to war. I want people to die. I want the earth to fucking explode, okay? This planet fucking pisses me off. I do not care about the lives of anyone, I do not care how many people will die, or how, I just FUCKING wanted to see the last FIVE FUCKING MINUTES OF FUCKING ANGEL YOU GODDAMN FUCKING SHITHEADS!!~
You are the fucking WB. &You don't care about the news. I don't care about the news. We have a beautiful, synchronistic relationship. And now I want to smash in my fucking television because of this fucking shit.
We're not even at fucking war yet., Nothing has fucking happened. I miss the no douct very dramatic conclusion of the only fucking thing I've been looking forward to all week for a bunch of assholes to tell me that nothing has happened yet,m but it will really soon, we swear ti God.
FUCK YOU!!!!@! If I wan ted to watch the fucking news, I'd be watching CN fucking N, wouldn't I? Do you really fucking think I would be watching the fucking WB if I was interested in the news? You know what? Fuck this shit. They better show me a huge fucking pile of really really dead bodies for how mad I am right now.
I can't even watch a fucking television show.
You have no idea how upset I am right now. I ...I can't even describe this. I'm losing my mind. I have lost my fucking mind. I cannot fucking deal with this bullshit. my head feels like it's going to explode. I'm going to have to smash it against something.
I cannot fucking believe this. By all means, start the fuicking war. Show me something blowing up. Please. Becasue I really need to see something right now that is more violent than I am.
I am not having a good day.
Monday
Remember when
the first page of the user list used to have a whole bunch of static users on it? Now it's just me. I am the only one not being upwardly mobile. I am the only static user on the first page. This makes me feel both arrogant and self-conscious. Are there people staring at my username wondering why the hell I'm still there? Are they filled with and unspeakable loathing for me for messing up the scheme?
Or am I the only person who could possibley be this insane?
Or am I the only person who could possibley be this insane?
Lie hags.
[Superhero identity] called me last night. She's adorable. Anyway, this conversation led me to the decision to make brownies. Since there weren't any adults to help me or anything, I decided to make those Toll House brownies, that you seperate along the pre-scored lines, and then just place and bake? Well, they say that this is all you need to do. However, the last instruction says that the brownies are done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Wtf? They didn't include a toothpick! This is outlandish. Anyway, I bested them. I used a knife.
This is, unofficially, the crappest entry ever. I should really go mail some letters and buy some apples. This of course will mean that I have to leave the house.
Shit.
This is, unofficially, the crappest entry ever. I should really go mail some letters and buy some apples. This of course will mean that I have to leave the house.
Shit.
Thursday
Oh....... shit.
I was supposed to attend an acting function-a-ma-jig thing this evening, which I was pretty sure was going to be at 8 o'clock. Of course, now that it's 7:06, I realize that it in fact begins at 7. Well, screw that then. It's only forty-five minutes long, and by the time I dry my hair and get there, it'll be over.
This is so not what I wanted to make this entry about. I wanted to make an entry about how great my ass is.
In conclusion, Delle's a slut. And I love her.
This is so not what I wanted to make this entry about. I wanted to make an entry about how great my ass is.
In conclusion, Delle's a slut. And I love her.
Memos
To: Everything
Stop fucking changing, dammit! It's confusing the fuck out of me.
To: One Time Angels
If you're going to write songs with intelligent sounding lyrics, please do one of the following: [-] have the lyrics online somewhere, or [-] sing them clearly.
Your buddy,
Amy
Stop fucking changing, dammit! It's confusing the fuck out of me.
To: One Time Angels
If you're going to write songs with intelligent sounding lyrics, please do one of the following: [-] have the lyrics online somewhere, or [-] sing them clearly.
Your buddy,
Amy
ehhhhhhh
I can't wait for there to stop being tomorrow.
Oops.
I meant: I can't wait for it to stop being tomorrow.
How clumsy of me.
Oops.
I meant: I can't wait for it to stop being tomorrow.
How clumsy of me.
Tuesday
Excellent.
Never let it be said that you cannot teach yourself 8 weeks of course matierial in 12 hours.
I've noticed a strange phenomenon. I'm the type of person that shopkeepers tend to call "sweetheart". Perhaps because of the whole big-eyed-about-to-burst into tears look I have going on. Or, maybe, I'm just that damn cute. I wish these options were more conclusive.
Also, I like having healthy, shiny hair, but it makes it difficult to discern which of my hairs are gray, and which ones are just really shiny.
I have the most bizarre problems.
I've noticed a strange phenomenon. I'm the type of person that shopkeepers tend to call "sweetheart". Perhaps because of the whole big-eyed-about-to-burst into tears look I have going on. Or, maybe, I'm just that damn cute. I wish these options were more conclusive.
Also, I like having healthy, shiny hair, but it makes it difficult to discern which of my hairs are gray, and which ones are just really shiny.
I have the most bizarre problems.
Monday
Oh and for crap's sake.
I know who wrote the PM. Man, do I feel better than everyone.
And Soupy, I love you dearly, but I feel the need to comment: "People who feel the need to bitch and moan about the board off-board are chickenshits. If you have something to say about the state of the WD, you should be able to say it on the WD."
That really doesn't make any sense. I mean, I bitch about the WD all the time, and I post never. If I were to say, have a phone conversation with another member of the board and we got onto the subject of the WD, I wouldn't really find myself saying "Gee, one of us should really hop online and transcribe this for the whole board!"
[eyebrow]
And Soupy, I love you dearly, but I feel the need to comment: "People who feel the need to bitch and moan about the board off-board are chickenshits. If you have something to say about the state of the WD, you should be able to say it on the WD."
That really doesn't make any sense. I mean, I bitch about the WD all the time, and I post never. If I were to say, have a phone conversation with another member of the board and we got onto the subject of the WD, I wouldn't really find myself saying "Gee, one of us should really hop online and transcribe this for the whole board!"
[eyebrow]
Saturday
I was such a messed up yet artistically talented child.
Stay tuned at the end of the entry for your chance at a free giveaway!
So, um... as some of you may know, my parents are getting divorced and my house is being sold and I'm moving into a new one with my mother. There's no need for sympathy, I'm extremely meh about the whole thing. The only thing I'm not liking so much is that my mother wants to throw all the crap that we have amassed away, or worse give it away. Phh! She knows how I feel about giving! Anyway, so far today has been a day of bees (okay, one, but I'm deeply afeared of them, it wasn't pretty), dust, and cat hair. And my Allegra is at school. And my mother has 35 Elvis records. And we found these pictures of her when she was twenty, and she was far, far hotter than me. I should probably do something about that. We also found this skirt that she made in 1960 or thereabouts, and I'm keeping it, because she's cute, and it fits me.
My mother was also going to throw away the lovely framed wedding invitation of hers and my father's. I suggested that I would keep it, and said: "So I'll have something to prove that I was legitimate."
They thought I was being overly dramatic.
But I don't want my sister helping anymore. I don't want her telling me that I can part with my Barbie coloring books and my glued-together puzzles, and my Health book that I stole from school because they owed me, and I don't what to give my dolls to her goddaugther, even though I love her. Well, okay, that I'm okay with. Just as long as they don't go to veteran children or something. And no, none of my childhood craft projects are going anywhere except with me. Jesus, woman!
On spring break, I'm going to have to go through my closets, to sort things. Not throw things away, as my mother seems to think. I am keeping all my useless crap. My life is that crap.
And while cleaning out a trunk of clothes from the 70s, my sister suggested to my mother that instead of giving them away, she could probably make some decent money by selling them to vintage shops in the city. I like this idea. But neither of them is actually willing to go to the city to do that. Don't they understand that I like that idea?? More with the giving. It's just ridiculous.
We're going out to dinner for my mother's birthday this evening, so this packing crap better halt soon.
Anyway, here's the important part of this entry. Somehow, this item wound up in a box of Christmas cards - when my friend Jennifer and I were in 6th grade, we made this picture on a piece of paper, called: "A Rather Wild Death Scene at the Grand Canyon". It's a full page original creation featuring some dumb hippy being attacked by some fantastical creatures as an inept park ranger tries to save him. It also features a squirrel in a headlock, avian antics, renegade mules, vultures, carnivorous rabbits, and rabid bears. It's great!! I've been looking for this forever, it is one of my treasured childhood memories. I was thinking of shufflin' over to the Staples and maybe getting it color copied. After having this idea, I have decided that any person (so long as I know you, and don't hate you) who would like to have this treasured piece of memorabilia can have one sent to them, er, by me. I figure this would be a great gimmick to finally start reciprocating all the letters and crap I've gotten from other people. I'm ever so slightly tired of being the jackass that never writes back.
So, um... as some of you may know, my parents are getting divorced and my house is being sold and I'm moving into a new one with my mother. There's no need for sympathy, I'm extremely meh about the whole thing. The only thing I'm not liking so much is that my mother wants to throw all the crap that we have amassed away, or worse give it away. Phh! She knows how I feel about giving! Anyway, so far today has been a day of bees (okay, one, but I'm deeply afeared of them, it wasn't pretty), dust, and cat hair. And my Allegra is at school. And my mother has 35 Elvis records. And we found these pictures of her when she was twenty, and she was far, far hotter than me. I should probably do something about that. We also found this skirt that she made in 1960 or thereabouts, and I'm keeping it, because she's cute, and it fits me.
My mother was also going to throw away the lovely framed wedding invitation of hers and my father's. I suggested that I would keep it, and said: "So I'll have something to prove that I was legitimate."
They thought I was being overly dramatic.
But I don't want my sister helping anymore. I don't want her telling me that I can part with my Barbie coloring books and my glued-together puzzles, and my Health book that I stole from school because they owed me, and I don't what to give my dolls to her goddaugther, even though I love her. Well, okay, that I'm okay with. Just as long as they don't go to veteran children or something. And no, none of my childhood craft projects are going anywhere except with me. Jesus, woman!
On spring break, I'm going to have to go through my closets, to sort things. Not throw things away, as my mother seems to think. I am keeping all my useless crap. My life is that crap.
And while cleaning out a trunk of clothes from the 70s, my sister suggested to my mother that instead of giving them away, she could probably make some decent money by selling them to vintage shops in the city. I like this idea. But neither of them is actually willing to go to the city to do that. Don't they understand that I like that idea?? More with the giving. It's just ridiculous.
We're going out to dinner for my mother's birthday this evening, so this packing crap better halt soon.
Anyway, here's the important part of this entry. Somehow, this item wound up in a box of Christmas cards - when my friend Jennifer and I were in 6th grade, we made this picture on a piece of paper, called: "A Rather Wild Death Scene at the Grand Canyon". It's a full page original creation featuring some dumb hippy being attacked by some fantastical creatures as an inept park ranger tries to save him. It also features a squirrel in a headlock, avian antics, renegade mules, vultures, carnivorous rabbits, and rabid bears. It's great!! I've been looking for this forever, it is one of my treasured childhood memories. I was thinking of shufflin' over to the Staples and maybe getting it color copied. After having this idea, I have decided that any person (so long as I know you, and don't hate you) who would like to have this treasured piece of memorabilia can have one sent to them, er, by me. I figure this would be a great gimmick to finally start reciprocating all the letters and crap I've gotten from other people. I'm ever so slightly tired of being the jackass that never writes back.
Thursday
"Dear Diary, today I woke up at dawn...
... and mocked the mothers of my enemies for giving birth to them."
The preceeding is a line from Russell Simmon's Def Poetry Jam, which I went to see tonight. It was better than I expected, but I still wouldn't say that I liked it. There were parts that I liked, and parts I didn't really care for. The line was in a poem by the Asian Dude. I'm not doing names. He had some excellent lines, such as: "We are programming your websites, making your CEOs look smarter, and we are getting into your schools for free!"
There was a chick from the Middle East, and she kind of reminded me of Jenny. Possibley because she seemed all graceful and poised and articulate. She kind of didn't fit in with the rest of them. By which I mean to say that she was better. She had a poem called "Exotic" that I thought was just.. neat.
There was also a girl from Jamaica, who would have made a much better Kendra than Bianca Lawson. She was a dyke. She was cool.
As a special treat to you the reader, I'll omit, from my journal, the reasons why my day was such that I wanted to die. As a matter of fact, let's just forget I said that last part. Look over there, some monkeys!
The preceeding is a line from Russell Simmon's Def Poetry Jam, which I went to see tonight. It was better than I expected, but I still wouldn't say that I liked it. There were parts that I liked, and parts I didn't really care for. The line was in a poem by the Asian Dude. I'm not doing names. He had some excellent lines, such as: "We are programming your websites, making your CEOs look smarter, and we are getting into your schools for free!"
There was a chick from the Middle East, and she kind of reminded me of Jenny. Possibley because she seemed all graceful and poised and articulate. She kind of didn't fit in with the rest of them. By which I mean to say that she was better. She had a poem called "Exotic" that I thought was just.. neat.
There was also a girl from Jamaica, who would have made a much better Kendra than Bianca Lawson. She was a dyke. She was cool.
As a special treat to you the reader, I'll omit, from my journal, the reasons why my day was such that I wanted to die. As a matter of fact, let's just forget I said that last part. Look over there, some monkeys!
Wednesday
Monday
On 4/03/00
I stated that this was my life philosophy:
"...Sometimes I feel I've lost so much I have to find new things to lose. And I think there must be some divine point to it all. That when we die, it will all become clear, and we'll say, 'So that was the damn point!' And sometimes I think there's no point at all, and that's the point. All I know is, most people's lives are a great disappointment to them, and no one leaves this earth without feeling terrible pain. And if there is no divine explanation at the end of it all, well, that's sad."
I fliched it off Eve's Bayou, which is a movie I absolutely love.
I was pretty deep for a kid, yo.
"...Sometimes I feel I've lost so much I have to find new things to lose. And I think there must be some divine point to it all. That when we die, it will all become clear, and we'll say, 'So that was the damn point!' And sometimes I think there's no point at all, and that's the point. All I know is, most people's lives are a great disappointment to them, and no one leaves this earth without feeling terrible pain. And if there is no divine explanation at the end of it all, well, that's sad."
I fliched it off Eve's Bayou, which is a movie I absolutely love.
I was pretty deep for a kid, yo.
Thursday
The potential for sleazy secrets dies with you, good sir.
Mr. Rogers died. This is very sad making. Dieter informed us. He's so cool. He then made us feel better by showing us a film about monkeys.
In other news, my mother no longer hates me. Yay! And I got a pink letter from Tiny Del. Yay! She is ever so cute.
I don't like cultural anthropology. I don't like people. At least not living ones. I'm all about the biology of humans, and the study of their fossilized remains, but the stuff in between really bugs me. People blow. And hip hop sucks, no matter what country it originates from.
I did see a film today called The Kitchen Toto, about colonial Kenya in the 50s, though. It was rather good. There was a little blond boy in it. He liked to shoot at things randomly, and leave the little black kid in peril. And he necropsied a snake. He was all about the venom glands and whole undigested rats.
He wound up accidently killing his mother.
I was not surprised.
In other news, my mother no longer hates me. Yay! And I got a pink letter from Tiny Del. Yay! She is ever so cute.
I don't like cultural anthropology. I don't like people. At least not living ones. I'm all about the biology of humans, and the study of their fossilized remains, but the stuff in between really bugs me. People blow. And hip hop sucks, no matter what country it originates from.
I did see a film today called The Kitchen Toto, about colonial Kenya in the 50s, though. It was rather good. There was a little blond boy in it. He liked to shoot at things randomly, and leave the little black kid in peril. And he necropsied a snake. He was all about the venom glands and whole undigested rats.
He wound up accidently killing his mother.
I was not surprised.
Wednesday
Happy Birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy it's-not-really-my-birthday-but-it-is-my-three-year-WD-anniversary-today, dear me-e,
Happy birthday to me.
[blows a noisemaker]
Happy it's-not-really-my-birthday-but-it-is-my-three-year-WD-anniversary-today, dear me-e,
Happy birthday to me.
[blows a noisemaker]
Monday
*BALEETED!*
Things on the internet should not ever be deleted. Because I need some of these things, even though I can't remember that I need them. Emails are deleted from my inbox after 7 days. It used to be five days before I figured out that I could set it. But 7 was the maximum. My outbox items go after a month. Which makes no sense. Man, AOL sucks. There are so many email I wish I'd remembered to save. Ditto to PMs. Now that I no longer get as many (Although I did get 11 today, should I shut up?) it reminds me of how many are now gone.
Likewise, internet sites, even lonely old unused ones should not disappear. Especially when I have yet to copy and paste the relevant parts of said sites and instead only have them bookmarked.* On this note, I have been saving all the post on the old archives, because that thing don't look incredibly stable, if you get me. Going in chronological order, I'm up to 8/01/00. I have only just gotten to the posts that I find more interesting, if you get me. There are so freaking many. And then I get bored and lazy and stop doing it until the panic that the place might disappear gets me going again.
As an activity, I made some lists about deletion. What with the anniversary rolling around and all, here's a list of the people who registered before me who appear to be on the Road to Deletion: radioradio5 (03/18/03), fetterdave (03/19/03), Hi there (04/08/03), Lucretia (04/09/03), Katie (04/09/03).
A while ago, there was a whole bunch of static posters on the first page. Not moving up, slowly falling down, and just sitting there. Now, I am the static poster on the first page. God, what's my problem? [rolleyes]
Then there's the Address Book. As some of you know, I pride myself on never cleaning out my address book. I am a pack-rat, even of names. When a username is deleted, it is not deleted from your address book. Hence why I have the following usernames in there. Some of them shouldn't be there, by all rights. Some of them have been deleted, reregistered, and then been deleted again. Wow!
Ademia, AlyKat, Ang, Artemis, eliza4ever, exmorgan, Great Attractor, Jennifer, jjj, Lynelli, MomOfLauren, morgan, Runtley, Sheryl, Silent_Bob, Tonke.
Apparently, now that "Luna" has reregistered, but as Silverwolf, "luna" has reregistered as a fake her. Her number of posts is listed as 1, but in her "Show All Posts" Connie's archived posts show up. I don't cotton to this.
* You're a geek. And I know how much. And I find it adorable. [exasperated sigh]
Likewise, internet sites, even lonely old unused ones should not disappear. Especially when I have yet to copy and paste the relevant parts of said sites and instead only have them bookmarked.* On this note, I have been saving all the post on the old archives, because that thing don't look incredibly stable, if you get me. Going in chronological order, I'm up to 8/01/00. I have only just gotten to the posts that I find more interesting, if you get me. There are so freaking many. And then I get bored and lazy and stop doing it until the panic that the place might disappear gets me going again.
As an activity, I made some lists about deletion. What with the anniversary rolling around and all, here's a list of the people who registered before me who appear to be on the Road to Deletion: radioradio5 (03/18/03), fetterdave (03/19/03), Hi there (04/08/03), Lucretia (04/09/03), Katie (04/09/03).
A while ago, there was a whole bunch of static posters on the first page. Not moving up, slowly falling down, and just sitting there. Now, I am the static poster on the first page. God, what's my problem? [rolleyes]
Then there's the Address Book. As some of you know, I pride myself on never cleaning out my address book. I am a pack-rat, even of names. When a username is deleted, it is not deleted from your address book. Hence why I have the following usernames in there. Some of them shouldn't be there, by all rights. Some of them have been deleted, reregistered, and then been deleted again. Wow!
Ademia, AlyKat, Ang, Artemis, eliza4ever, exmorgan, Great Attractor, Jennifer, jjj, Lynelli, MomOfLauren, morgan, Runtley, Sheryl, Silent_Bob, Tonke.
Apparently, now that "Luna" has reregistered, but as Silverwolf, "luna" has reregistered as a fake her. Her number of posts is listed as 1, but in her "Show All Posts" Connie's archived posts show up. I don't cotton to this.
* You're a geek. And I know how much. And I find it adorable. [exasperated sigh]
Current Status: not dead.
Weekend trip tally:
[-] Quiet tearful alone cries: 2
[-] Cathartic being-hugged cries: 2
[-] "Everything sucks" cries: 1
[-] Fights with mother that precipitated above: 1
[-] Fully episodic basket-case in-the-bathroom cries: 1
[-] Panicking "not ready to go yet" cries: 1
[-] For reference, the time frame in which all these occurred: 50 hours
[-] Combined travel hours south: 10. Stupid fucking diesel engines.
[-] Combined travel north: 1 bus (2 hours), train 1 (3 hours), train 2 (20 minutes)
[-] Closest to boy I managed to find myself: 25 minutes away.
[-] Emotional state: Conflicted and numb.
My three-year WD anniversary is Wednesday. Send me virtual presents or something. Wow. Well, that's pretty messed up.
Also, I logged in today and managed to reset my news for the Watcher's Diary. So whereas before about 3/4 post of the total posts in there were marked as new, now only one is. This actually really pisses me off.
Fuck. I have to go to class like, right this very second.
[-] Quiet tearful alone cries: 2
[-] Cathartic being-hugged cries: 2
[-] "Everything sucks" cries: 1
[-] Fights with mother that precipitated above: 1
[-] Fully episodic basket-case in-the-bathroom cries: 1
[-] Panicking "not ready to go yet" cries: 1
[-] For reference, the time frame in which all these occurred: 50 hours
[-] Combined travel hours south: 10. Stupid fucking diesel engines.
[-] Combined travel north: 1 bus (2 hours), train 1 (3 hours), train 2 (20 minutes)
[-] Closest to boy I managed to find myself: 25 minutes away.
[-] Emotional state: Conflicted and numb.
My three-year WD anniversary is Wednesday. Send me virtual presents or something. Wow. Well, that's pretty messed up.
Also, I logged in today and managed to reset my news for the Watcher's Diary. So whereas before about 3/4 post of the total posts in there were marked as new, now only one is. This actually really pisses me off.
Fuck. I have to go to class like, right this very second.
Thursday
4
I didn't realize how fucking ironic that was until just now. Of course... it wasn't really ironic before now. Jesus, what the hell am I talking about?
In 8 days, I'll be asleep, probably, somewhere in Annie's house. Under normal circumstances [bitter cackle] this would be cause for much glee. Part of me will be amused to see exactly how together I won't manage to be.
I am a damn sorry imitation of a human being.
In 8 days, I'll be asleep, probably, somewhere in Annie's house. Under normal circumstances [bitter cackle] this would be cause for much glee. Part of me will be amused to see exactly how together I won't manage to be.
I am a damn sorry imitation of a human being.
Tuesday
Ow my head.
I woke up with a crying hangover today. Am I the only person that gets this?Anyway, I was all dehydrated and headachey and stumbly, which I assume is what a hangover is like. Yes, my life is wild and carefree. Also, I really needed a shower. It just couldn't be put off. The combination of these things has lead me to miss Dieter's class for the second time in a row. Granted, this class is an awful lot like the one that I took last semester, and it's about monkeys so I absolutely cannot not do well in it, But gaaah.
I think I'm going to write him an email an tell him I had the flu. It's not a lie if I convince myself it's true.
Also, some random chap left a note on my previous entry, but I DELETED! that. The grammar and spelling were decent, and everything. Sorry about that, dude. It's nothing personal, I hate everyone. Especially everyone who knows nothing about my life, but feels that their 1:16 minutes of insight will make it all right as rain.
Also, I've discovered that if I space out my two cups of soup to different times of the day, then it's like having two completely seperate meals! Hooray for my extremely healthy lifestyle!
Also, I don't know if I need a new tape for this evening. I left both my Buffy and Angel tapes at home a few weeks ago, and so I used the only blank tape in my room to tape both of them. My intent was to record as many episodes as I had space left for on my "official" tapes, and then transfer the episodes at a later date after I had found a kind person with two VCRs who can do something like that. Then all the episodes would still be in order. The problem is that I don't know how many episodes I have on this intermediary tape, nor how many are on my good tapes. I forget when I stopped labelling them. And I don't know how much I really care about either show to figure it out. And plus, I don't want to walk to the store, I just did that yesterday. Poo. Eh. Gaaaaaaah.
I'm so glad I'm not at class right now.
I think I'm going to write him an email an tell him I had the flu. It's not a lie if I convince myself it's true.
Also, some random chap left a note on my previous entry, but I DELETED! that. The grammar and spelling were decent, and everything. Sorry about that, dude. It's nothing personal, I hate everyone. Especially everyone who knows nothing about my life, but feels that their 1:16 minutes of insight will make it all right as rain.
Also, I've discovered that if I space out my two cups of soup to different times of the day, then it's like having two completely seperate meals! Hooray for my extremely healthy lifestyle!
Also, I don't know if I need a new tape for this evening. I left both my Buffy and Angel tapes at home a few weeks ago, and so I used the only blank tape in my room to tape both of them. My intent was to record as many episodes as I had space left for on my "official" tapes, and then transfer the episodes at a later date after I had found a kind person with two VCRs who can do something like that. Then all the episodes would still be in order. The problem is that I don't know how many episodes I have on this intermediary tape, nor how many are on my good tapes. I forget when I stopped labelling them. And I don't know how much I really care about either show to figure it out. And plus, I don't want to walk to the store, I just did that yesterday. Poo. Eh. Gaaaaaaah.
I'm so glad I'm not at class right now.
Monday
My professor stinks.
No, really. He's very smelly. At first I thought, well, not that it was me, but that there was some other explanation. But, no, the air was fine until he came in, and then there was stink.
I got the stinky teacher. My life is in many ways like first grade.
Or maybe just in that way.
I got the stinky teacher. My life is in many ways like first grade.
Or maybe just in that way.
Excellent.
The Sci Fi Channel is showing Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade twice in a row. This is so fabulous. When it came on the first time, I was showering an then en route to school. And now I can see the whole thing! I know that many eschew this odd new network practice of showing the same movie twice in a row, but I dern like it. It harkens back to days gone by, or something. Whatever. The point is that I get to watch one of the best movies, ever.
Words cannot describe how much I adore this movie. I will leave you with this, though. All things being equal, the movie in which the hero shoots Nazis is invariably the better one.
Words cannot describe how much I adore this movie. I will leave you with this, though. All things being equal, the movie in which the hero shoots Nazis is invariably the better one.
Saturday
On leaving the board.
In 18 days, it will be my three year board anniversary (Ha bettie!). I was thinking that maybe that would be a better time for this title, what with the irony and everything, but whatever. Apparently, reading posts used to take up a whole lot of my time. I note this because apparently now, I have lots of it. It's not like I'm going anything with it, though. Instead of sitting in front of the computer, staring at a postlist, I sit in front of the computer, staring at nothing. It's kind of boring, yet I have no real desire to do anything else. This all but proves a theory that I had a few years ago (dude. I can say that and mean it. How utterly fucking bizarre.) that the time I spent on the board wasn't what was keeping me from doing stuff (stuff in this instance being "school work") but instead was just a by product of not wanting to work.
Oddly though, in my constant blog refreshing, I see people mention posts (maybe in one of those 368 new threads or something) that I know absolutely nothing about, and I have no desire to read it. Well, maybe I'd like to see what got said about Freako Jackson. Which is what I'm looking for now. And in the process, I've already found two posts on the first page with spoilers in the parent post. And yet, I have no desire to log in and PM anyone about it. I don't even feel like tipping you off as to where they are now. Meh.
Here's what I did today: was dead unconscious until noon. I came home to avoid being snow-bound in my dorm, and that's a good thing, because it means I got to sleep uninterrupted. Which was desperately needed. I thought that it was later when I woke up, and I was surprised when it was only twelve. So I went back to sleep until 2. Then I woke up and took a shower. Then I turned on the computer and stared at it. I had several PMs, so I went and read them. I received no word on anything. Which I was expecting. Then I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Then I watched Donnie Darko. Then I took my pharmacy of pills. Some of them ironic. Then I sat in front of the television and did cross-stitch. And now I'm sitting in front of the computer again.
This, ladies and gentlemen, was my day. I don't know how the fuck the rest of you can space yours out to fill more than one short paragraph.
I skipped a class Thursday so that I could study for the test I had in the class after it, since I had yet to. I didn't study. I'm pretty sure I did alright anyway.
Incidentally, I think the only person I had (what passes for) a conversation with today was Sas. And even though it doesn't seem to be the fashion anymore, I will always refer to her by her superhero name.
I had my mother listen to Milla Jovovich. She likes the song in Ukranian, but nothing else. Eh. Can't win them at all.
Oddly though, in my constant blog refreshing, I see people mention posts (maybe in one of those 368 new threads or something) that I know absolutely nothing about, and I have no desire to read it. Well, maybe I'd like to see what got said about Freako Jackson. Which is what I'm looking for now. And in the process, I've already found two posts on the first page with spoilers in the parent post. And yet, I have no desire to log in and PM anyone about it. I don't even feel like tipping you off as to where they are now. Meh.
Here's what I did today: was dead unconscious until noon. I came home to avoid being snow-bound in my dorm, and that's a good thing, because it means I got to sleep uninterrupted. Which was desperately needed. I thought that it was later when I woke up, and I was surprised when it was only twelve. So I went back to sleep until 2. Then I woke up and took a shower. Then I turned on the computer and stared at it. I had several PMs, so I went and read them. I received no word on anything. Which I was expecting. Then I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Then I watched Donnie Darko. Then I took my pharmacy of pills. Some of them ironic. Then I sat in front of the television and did cross-stitch. And now I'm sitting in front of the computer again.
This, ladies and gentlemen, was my day. I don't know how the fuck the rest of you can space yours out to fill more than one short paragraph.
I skipped a class Thursday so that I could study for the test I had in the class after it, since I had yet to. I didn't study. I'm pretty sure I did alright anyway.
Incidentally, I think the only person I had (what passes for) a conversation with today was Sas. And even though it doesn't seem to be the fashion anymore, I will always refer to her by her superhero name.
I had my mother listen to Milla Jovovich. She likes the song in Ukranian, but nothing else. Eh. Can't win them at all.
Wednesday
Even Coffee Commercials hate me and should fuck off.
I'm sorry, that had nothing to do with my entry. It's still true, though. Anyway, I have something to talk about that's actually of some importance, which as you know, is rare for me. My main obstacle is figthing apathy, as I this is something that I really do care about.
Yesterday, the governor of New Jersey, Skeevy McGreevey proposed his plans for the state's budget. His goal is to cut a whole bunch of money because, I dunno, we don't have any. Or something. This includes cutting more than $100 million for NJ state universities, such as the one I attend. Yay.
Also among the cuts was the State Arts Council. Arts Council. Not "funding to". The actual organization would be dismantled. There would be no funding of the arts. At all. State theatres. Music arenas. Television and film production. This is the most insane proposition, possibley ever. Let's not even discuss the importance of the arts on society, let's talk about the economic prospects. It's stupid to eliminate an insitution, which at the most pessimistic estimate provides 4 to 1 returns. Way to stop and reverse the revitalization of Newark, Camden, and New Brunswick, to name a few. I can't wait for all the businesses built on the theatre industry to fold. Hey, perhaps the State Theatre can go back to being an adult movie theatre! And perhaps I can pass by it every day as the property values go down, the area around Rutgers decipates, and my tution rises.
Not six months ago, McGreevey promised to be a "champion" for the arts. Now, after all but signing its death warrant, he told the people that he said he would support to lobby ain't his decision. Lobby against his decision. Seriously. I don't know what the hell he's doing. A gamble? Get people all indignant? Have them petition for a tax hike instead so that he doesn't look like the bad guy for implementing it? What if it doesn't work? On Monday, no one even thought that him suggesting this could happen. It seems so irrational that people may grow complacent that it won't happen, and not do anything, and then, oops! No more arts. Or is he trying to play both sides? Say "Hey, I'm not the bad guy. It's not like I want to do this."?
Gah. Perhaps I should write to my Congressman. Whatever would I say?
You see, this is why I dislike knowing about the world at large. It just reminds me that everything sucks. Everything.
Yesterday, the governor of New Jersey, Skeevy McGreevey proposed his plans for the state's budget. His goal is to cut a whole bunch of money because, I dunno, we don't have any. Or something. This includes cutting more than $100 million for NJ state universities, such as the one I attend. Yay.
Also among the cuts was the State Arts Council. Arts Council. Not "funding to". The actual organization would be dismantled. There would be no funding of the arts. At all. State theatres. Music arenas. Television and film production. This is the most insane proposition, possibley ever. Let's not even discuss the importance of the arts on society, let's talk about the economic prospects. It's stupid to eliminate an insitution, which at the most pessimistic estimate provides 4 to 1 returns. Way to stop and reverse the revitalization of Newark, Camden, and New Brunswick, to name a few. I can't wait for all the businesses built on the theatre industry to fold. Hey, perhaps the State Theatre can go back to being an adult movie theatre! And perhaps I can pass by it every day as the property values go down, the area around Rutgers decipates, and my tution rises.
Not six months ago, McGreevey promised to be a "champion" for the arts. Now, after all but signing its death warrant, he told the people that he said he would support to lobby ain't his decision. Lobby against his decision. Seriously. I don't know what the hell he's doing. A gamble? Get people all indignant? Have them petition for a tax hike instead so that he doesn't look like the bad guy for implementing it? What if it doesn't work? On Monday, no one even thought that him suggesting this could happen. It seems so irrational that people may grow complacent that it won't happen, and not do anything, and then, oops! No more arts. Or is he trying to play both sides? Say "Hey, I'm not the bad guy. It's not like I want to do this."?
Gah. Perhaps I should write to my Congressman. Whatever would I say?
You see, this is why I dislike knowing about the world at large. It just reminds me that everything sucks. Everything.
Ticketing blows!
Today has been a day of tickets. None of them related to the Department of Motor Vehicles, though. I have to go see all these shows for my Theatre Issues class. And it sucks! They're all occuring very soon! And at times when I need to be elsewhere. On the first day of class, we had to put in ticket orders for the first show "Equus". Which meant that I had to decide on the date then. As only the dates were given, and not the days, and I did not bring one of those schmancy notebooks with the calendars in it (Five Star!) I wound up getting a ticket for Saturday. Pfft! I need to go to my home to get things this weekend. Perhaps I just won't go. I'm sure I could fake it.
The exports of Libya are numerous in amount. One thing they export is corn, or as the Indians call it maize. Another famous Indian was Crazy Horse. In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrasts. Thank you.
The exports of Libya are numerous in amount. One thing they export is corn, or as the Indians call it maize. Another famous Indian was Crazy Horse. In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrasts. Thank you.
Explain how!
I have been sitting in front of the computer for the past 7 or 8 hours. Oh, Jesus. Yet, in this time, I have accomplished nothing. Well, no, okay, I had a cry jag, but hell, I do that in my sleep these days [/ah, a good old "Amy is still upsettingly heartbroken" reference to scare away any potential commenters.] Thing is, I'm sure there are things that I coulda/shoulda/woulda been doing. Well, okay, maybe not the woulda. I have a test which is technically tomorrow, that I have not studied for. Granted, it's on geography, and I really don't need to study very much, but still. There's no way in hell I could name 55 African countries at this moment, let alone place them on a map. Also, there's my cross-stitch. Which I've been meaning to work on since I got to my dorm. So that's, what, at least a few days, right? Yet I have not even moved to make even one stitch. Tomorrow I have to extract and spend about $174 from my bank account, so that I can later go to a place I am petrified to go to, and yet it's 2:30 in the morning, and I don't even plan on setting my alarm. Since I rearranged my room, I cannot turn off my alarm without getting up out of my bed. This greatly impedes the impetus to set it.
Sitting here writing out this longer-than-neccesary entry is another symptom of this, whateverthehell I'm doing. So when I'm done I will most likely just go around to the same pages I've been going to all night, and hit refresh until something new comes up, and listen to Milla Jovovich sing all pretty. She's a Sagittarius, you know... or at least do now. And I've just attached personal significance to a song about the Holocaust. I think this shows that I'm a pretty messed up person.
When does my life get to stop being stuck on pause?
Sitting here writing out this longer-than-neccesary entry is another symptom of this, whateverthehell I'm doing. So when I'm done I will most likely just go around to the same pages I've been going to all night, and hit refresh until something new comes up, and listen to Milla Jovovich sing all pretty. She's a Sagittarius, you know... or at least do now. And I've just attached personal significance to a song about the Holocaust. I think this shows that I'm a pretty messed up person.
When does my life get to stop being stuck on pause?
Tuesday
I get it!
Heart is an 80s band! I finally understand why! It's so irrational!
Um. Nevermind me. I had a moment of insight. You don't care.
Also, curiously, I think Milla Jovovich is one of the worst actresses, ever. Yet, I really like her music. Yes, she's a singer.
Um. Nevermind me. I had a moment of insight. You don't care.
Also, curiously, I think Milla Jovovich is one of the worst actresses, ever. Yet, I really like her music. Yes, she's a singer.
Monday
I hate my brain.
It's so frigging stupid.
Also, on Wednesday I'm going to buy train tickets to and from Richmond for the later part of this month. The full implications of this action have not yet occurred to me. But I'll get to see Annie, which is the plus in any event.
My brain, it seems, controls the rest of me.
Also, on Wednesday I'm going to buy train tickets to and from Richmond for the later part of this month. The full implications of this action have not yet occurred to me. But I'll get to see Annie, which is the plus in any event.
My brain, it seems, controls the rest of me.
Sunday
Update
So as not to leave anyone in the dark, there will be no Hamlet for Amy. And while I know it will be tempting, I really don't want anyone to be apologetic or sad or anything, as I am completely apathetic in regards to this development. (I am rather wary of their auditioning process, though. Much head-up-assery was had by all.) This is just so that you can all stop being jealous of me. .... About this, anyway. 
Saturday
"If it is a choice between Richmond and death, then I choose death."
Is it sad that upon hearing that line, my first thought was that I should use it as an entry title? Yeah, I thought so. I saw The Hours this evening. It was good. [/bland review] The characters were very complex and as a whole gave you more to think about than you can fit in two hours. Which is good. However, (and I want to slap myself for saying this) I don't think that I really "got it". By which I mean that I can't really tell if there was supposed to be a message or something. Or any kind of statement. Or if it was just... here's a bunch of people, and they're pretty fucked up.
However, the makeup was fabulous. And the acting was terrif. Have I mentioned that John C. Reilly kicks ass?
I liked it. Probably more than I should have, given the content. And I have a strong urge to start reading Virginia Woolf now.
In any event, I'd like more people to see it (yes, please go to the movies because I told you to) and then to tell me what they think.
However, the makeup was fabulous. And the acting was terrif. Have I mentioned that John C. Reilly kicks ass?
I liked it. Probably more than I should have, given the content. And I have a strong urge to start reading Virginia Woolf now.
In any event, I'd like more people to see it (yes, please go to the movies because I told you to) and then to tell me what they think.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
