Sunday, January 26, 2003
I must reiterate the solemn truth that is SEGMENTED WORMS.
I am never, ever, ever going to be able to hear that Spiderman 'Hero' song in a normal frame of mind again. I am ruined for life.
I just realized that I never made my bed today. Wow. I am a bad person. I am going to sleep soon, but I almost feel like I should go make the bed. Hmm.
Today we went to Fire and Ice. Boston was cold. I am glad that I have a scarf. It matches not a single article of clothing that I own. This makes it glorious. It is the anti-matching scarf. It is the singular and exact shade of blue that harmonizes with nothing. Thus, I wear it. Kate would be ashamed of me.
So, we ate dinner. There was a wait, and they invited us to sit in the bar. I didn't know they could do that. But they did. So we sat at two tiny tables with burnt-out candles. Well, only one of them was burnt-out beforehand, the other one had to be blown out because Liz was putting gum wrappers in it, and we didn't want to cause a fire/ruckus.
Apparently a lot of people had birthdays tonight. Apparently a lot of people were also drunk. Yes.
I cannot hold two conversations at once and also blog. I am just not that good of a typist. Sigh. Alas for my lack of skill.
People should not blog if they cannot spell. I have decided this. Sometimes I make typos that I don't catch, I know, but if you are going to have a blog, you should know how to/make the effort to spell words correctly. Otherwise, you just look stupid. In my opinion. Which is, in my opinion, a good opinion.
Mock Trial meeting tomorrow. People had better show up. Our trial is on Monday. We are going to lose. Because we are not ready. If people don't show up tomorrow, I am specifically going to purchase a rabid marmoset, just so that I can carry out the threats of marmoset violence that were in my Mock Trial email. Don't ask, they just were.
I just take photos. I would like to make that clear.
Sometimes people are online. And then sometimes they aren't. I think that maybe more people should think about that.
There are some things that just should not be put up in public forums. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes, things should be in paper journals that no one else can read. Online is just too risky if you are going to be writing certain things. This should be evident. Apparently, it is not.
I am leaving now. Prepare yourself.
The marmosets are coming. And oh yes. They are rabid.
12:08 AM
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
ok.. trying again...
7:27 PM
trying... to fix archives... so very hard...
7:26 PM
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
Today I only have a few choice thoughts to impart.
-I hate studying for midyears. I will never finish studying for the bio midyear in time. Never.
-Orson Scott Card is addictive. Not even that good, but dangerously addictive.
-Not needing to be in school until 10 am is good.
-Jess: The Power of the Meower shall heal you. Be not concerned, for the Cat is with you, whenever you set your mind in the sacred Way of the Feline. Such is the Healing Doctrine of the Cat, of which all Feline Anarchists are disciples.
-This weather is cold beyond any reasonable expectation of coldness. Someone, somewhere, needs to cut it out.
-I heard 'Good day' by Luce on the radio today. One of my obscure bands. On the radio. I am happy.
-I do not like that 'I/You/We am/are beautiful' song. By Christina, I am informed, although it wouldn't matter, whichever one of those interchangeable female 'artists' happens to be responsible for it.
-About Schmidt was pretty good. It was funny, but I didn't think it was anything particularily spectacular. On the way home, we ended up in Chelsea. Don't ask me how, I haven't the slightest idea.
-No, Christina. You are not beautiful. Get over it.
-Force Monkeys is funny.
-I have one last thing to say to you. It is very important. Very. Only two words, but they are key to the understanding of the meaning of life, the workings of the universe, and other such esoteric mysteries:
SEGMENTED WORM
10:36 PM
Saturday, January 18, 2003
I return to tell you more of my grand and thrilling adventures, more of my deep and heartwarming emotions, more of my wise and timely thoughts.
Actually, my life is mundane, my emotions cynical, and my thoughts disorganized to a disturbing degree, but I sometimes like to delude myself.
It was cold out today. Right now it is, according to The Weather Underground, a balmy 7º farenheit. If I had my way, temperatures of this sort would be outlawed. They should also outlaw all temperatures above 80º.
In any event, I was outside doing some filming, and I was not wearing any gloves, since I can't push the buttons on the camera really well when I have gloves on. Also, I had some things to tape up, and scotch tape does not mix well with gloves. So I was outside for... well, call it about 15 minutes. It was a short shot, maybe one and a half minutes. The rest of the time was spent setting the shot up, practice filming with the camera, and taking the shot apart. Taking it apart was hard because my hands were, at this point, bright red, and they weren't moving as dexterously as they generally do. I thought that they hurt a bit, but it was a distant sort of hurt that I was able to more or less ignore.
My work done, I went inside. Suddenly, viciously, the pain in my hands increased 20-fold. This was not a distant sort of pain. This was a pain that was waving its arms and screaming frantically directly in front of my bewildered face. It hurt so badly that I wasn't sure for a few moments whether I, myself, was actually screaming, or if it was just the nerves in my hands. It turns out it was just my hands, although I was making a distressed sort of whimpering noise.
I shook off my coat, because now I could not use my hands at all. I bundled pathetically up the stairs to coddle my poor hands in the view of my mother. Call it regression, if you will. Obviously there wasn't much of anything she could do to ease my agony, but I suppose I may have maintained some faint hope that she had some medicinal morphine lying around somewhere that I could perhaps make use of, in the face of this torturous crisis.
She did not have any such substance, but she told me go downstairs and soak my hands in warm water. I stumbled, still moaning piteously, back downstairs to the bathroom. I clumsily operated the sink until I got a warmish sort of bath. I put my hands in. The agony was unrelieved. I ended up having to start out in a cool sinkful of water for about 3 excruciating minutes, then warm for about 3, then hot for maybe 5 entire minutes, then back to warm for maybe 10, before I was able to flex my fingers in the water without pain.
Now, I have had my hands really cold before. I have often had them cold to the point where I can't really move them, and they feel really numb, so that the fingers hardly work. But I always felt before that my hands were cold. I have never, ever, ever felt that they were in actual pain before. This was pain. It felt like the blood in my hands had frozen solid. It felt like the skin was searing off. It felt like there was a piercingly hot coal in every joint. Not cold. Actual agony.
I think (and don't laugh, this is entirely possible, given the temperatures, and taking into account the less-than-hardy nature of my hands) that I was feeling the beginnings of frostbite. I am never leaving the house without gloves again. Never. Not even in the summer.
Utility safety.com defines first degree frostbite as:
1st degree: Only upper surface layers of the skin cells are involved, similar to mild sunburn. Primary symptoms are redness and pain in the affected area. Full recovery without scarring is possible.
Sounds eerily familiar.
They also have a lovely little picture of someone with 2nd degree frostbite on their hands. This is decidedly not a picture for the faint of heart, or stomach. Makes me rather glad I wasn't outside any longer.
In other news...
I was reading a nice little site today by the name of 0(zero) format. The current piece is 100 little blog entries. The author had decided to make 100 posts in one day. The result is quite entertaining. There are some funny bits involving his work and his home life, but by far the best bits all have to do with whippets.
As we were driving home from dinner tonight, I said something about the house being rather cold. My mother told me to put on warmer clothes. "Yeah," my dad said, "put on a cormorant." This led to some confusion, as I am not entirely sure that a cormorant would be very warm, even assuming you could get one to sit still long enough so that you could drape it over yourself.
This is a cormorant. Just in case you are unacquainted with them.
The moon is unaccountably bright tonight. I think that it just may be full, or close to full.
That is all.
9:35 PM
We just had a Mock Trial meeting.
It was only the prosecution, so it was only half the team. And a bunch of people didn't show up, even though some of them had said that they would. (insert steely gaze of wrath here) So there was only so much we could get done. The people who were there and who had questions (that being 3 people) went over their lines of questioning. The 2 witnesses who were there answered questions. This done, there was nothing really more for us to do.
So there was a lot of getting off topic, and a lot of loud conversation, and a lot of story-telling, and a lot of looking at pictures, and generally a lot of Mock Trial bonding, and it was fun. That's a lot of 'and's. So, to make a long story short, we didn't get that much actual Mock Trial done today, but we had infinite good times.
Movies that I have seen recently: Gangs of New York, Amelie, Fight Club. Gangs of New York was OK, it was a little too bloody for my tastes, and a little longer than I think it should have been. I really liked the last scene, though. I thought it was very cool. At one point, some character in the movie said, "I prophesy it will be a very dark night indeed", and Liz and I looked at each other and said, "He prophesied wrong," in exactly the same tone and manner. It was weird and amusing.
Amelie was quite good. Strange, but good. The 'quinze' scene was a bit much for my delicate sensibilites, but I liked the general weirdness of the movie. Of course, I probably would have liked it more if I hadn't been watching it at French Club, because there was waaaay too much other stuff going on. Plus the fact that Brian kept on standing in front of the TV.
Fight Club was incredible. I loved it. I can't believe I had never seen it before. It was really well done. The story was wonderfully executed. Brad Pitt and Edward Norton were awesome. Brad Pitt was very attractive. Visually, the movie was perfect for conveying the feelings and ideas that it was trying to convey. Very entertaining to watch, as well as very pleasing in the artistic sense of film. If you haven't seen it already, go see it. Right now.
Farscape has been back on for two weeks now. I am so happy. I love that show. It's so underrated.
Well, I guess it isn't really underrated, since it won all those Saturn awards. But those don't really matter outside of the SciFi circuit. Kind of like the Hugo, although that's a bigger deal. But it is very underrated in mainstream television. It's just a damn good show.
Should be studying for midyears. I'm not. I suppose I'll do most of it on Sunday, because I don't have anything planned for Sunday. Monday I have another interview. Sigh. I was really hoping to not have to do any, if it could possibly be avoided. They just strike me as so utterly useless. Plus, my mother won't let me wear my comfy jeans to them. So what if they're a bit ragged? They're comfy.
The only good thing about midyears is that I don't have any on Friday. It's B and G Friday. B is painting, so of course we don't have a midyear in there. G is french. French V is actually two semester long classes. Seniors are exempt from finals if their average grade in the class in question is a 90 or above. So the French midyear is really the final for semester one. Since my average is over 90, I don't have to take it. Ha HA! Choke on that little sliver of joy!
Noah brought his giant moose into school this Friday (i.e. yesterday). They were doing show-and-tell in their spanish class, so he brought in the giant moose. It's name is Babe. Short for Babe Magnet. He carted it around all day long, causing much hilarity in the hallways, especially among people who were not personally acquainted with him. I mean, this is not some little stuffed animal we are discussing here. This moose is somewhere in the general vicinity of enormous. He would carry it through the halls with its forelegs around his neck like he was giving it a piggy back. Insanity. Sheer insanity.
Oh, and then in psych class Ms. Henning made the moose sit up front, facing the class. When she was sitting it up, she saw that it's nostrils were holes, and she said, "Hey, can you stick your hand in there?", stuck her fingers in the moose's nose, then hastily removed them and wiped them on her pants. Strangely, this caused the entire class to have the same mental image at the same time, leading to a lot of hysterical laughter and shouts of "GROSS!"
If you don't see what we all immediately and graphically did, then I guess your mind is not connected to the evidently collective consciousness of my psych class.
OK. That ought to keep you voracious readers at bay for a bit.
3:27 PM
Thursday, January 16, 2003
Today--
Liz: " I am so ghetto!"
Sarah: "The girl in the GAP turtleneck says she's ghetto."
Liz: "It's Banana Republic, ho!"
Hmm. Yes.
I posted some more Online Comics on the side. One is Cigarro and Cerveja, which as I have said before follows the exploits of a chain-smoking rabbit and a hard-drinking Canadian goose. Hence their names. There is also a monkey named Dr. Intelligencia (there's an accent in there somewhere) who is a genius monkey and who is always introducing himself dramatically. It's good stuff. Only, it hasn't been updated in ages, and I'm not sure when it will be.
I also posted the New Adventures of Death, which features the new, every-day, somewhat surreal adventures of Death. In various incarnations. It's by the same woman who does Cat and Girl. It is updated every Thursday, which is good, but you can't get to the archives on it without joining the site it's hosted on. That involves money. Thus, I will not do it. But if you just check it every Thursday you get the new one for free, so all is well in the world.
It is very difficult to type comfortably when there is a cat passed out on your lap. It makes for a nice and warm lap, but it also makes for an awkward hunch over the cat to reach the keyboard. This leads to back pain and mild irritation. I do not recommend it.
Then again, the cat cannot be ousted, so I suppose there is nothing to be done. Feline rights come over mere human comforts. Obviously.
Mock Trial. We had a good meeting last weekend. I feel like we got a lot done. At least, I feel like the witnesses did. I gave them my little witness spiel, questions were asked and answered, and hey, what more can you ask for in a Mock Trial meeting? I have high hopes for this year. We shall kick bums. We must win the preliminaries. We must. I demand it.
The 5th Harry Potter book comes out June 21!! Holy cats! I am so excited it hardly bears speaking of. I hear that it is even longer than the 4th one was. Doesn't bother me a whit, but I do wonder how the little kids are going to keep on reading these books. I would have thought that the 4th one was prohibitively long. Evidently it wasn't, but if they keep on like this, who knows what'll happen.
But I am SO excited that it is finally set to come out! I can't wait! I need this book. I need it more than you can comprehend.
Last weekend we muralled. We actually got a lot done, since we were working on the weekend, and we were thus in the mood to paint. As opposed to weekdays, when all we want to do is go home and fall asleep and forget whatever math we learned that day. But the weekend was good. Good things happened. And no, it's not done yet. The words 'Work in Progress' painted across the top do not mean that high school is a 'work in progress', or anything ridiculously metaphoric like that. It means we're not done painting the dern thing yet. You people think too much.
OK. Last time I tried to post, it deleted my post and said there was a problem with the server. So we shall try this again, but this time we shall save the post first. Just in case.
Here goes.
9:25 PM
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
Today was bizarre.
I did not get to sleep until around 3-ish in the am, even though I had gone to bed by 11:30. I awoke at 6 in the am. That's 3 hours of sleep, mind you. And despite that, I did not fall asleep in either math or biology. I did fall asleep in english, but I had already finished all my work and we weren't doing anything, so I declare it acceptable. Bizarre, though.
I sat around rifling through paper on my floor until after dinner (say, 7 pm). Then I started my homework. Despite that, I finished it all earlier than I generally do when I start it all at 3. Bizarre.
I just reread 'A Modest Proposal' by Jonathan Swift. Eating babies. Ha ha, I love it. I reread it because I had foolishly mentioned in class that I had read it before, and my teacher somehow became fixated on the idea that I was some sort of expert on it. So now I have to give a lecture or somesuchathing on it tomorrow. How did this happen? And how did it happen to me, the most innocent and undeserving of peoples?
I know not. It's, yes, you guessed it, it's bizarre.
And the thing of it is, it's not that complicated. It's a satire. About eating babies. About poverty. About human cruelty. About the social condition in Ireland. About Protestants hating Catholics and how Swift thinks that sucks. You only have to read the damn thing once to pick up on all this, it's fairly obvious. And it's a pamphlet. That means it's short. So anyone could read it and anyone could understand it. So any 'lecture' I give on it is going to be entirely superfluous. We should just read it in class and that should be that.
Siiiiiiiiigh.
I also just started reading The Hours, since the movie's out and all, and I figured I may as well read the book. I'd like to finish it before I see the movie. It seems good so far, but I'm not very far into it yet. We shall see what we shall see.
I just finished Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse, which was very good. The ending was extraordinarily surreal and I was thus very pleased. It's short, so even you lazy folk out there should go and read it.
I recently put up that's high school physics as my desktop. I am thoroughly amused by it. Maybe the humor is not to be appreciated by all. But it is appreciated by me. That's an image off of exploding dog 2003, in case you were a-wondering.
Well, I am off. Maybe if I get to bed earlier tonight I will get more sleep. Maybe.
Sleeeeeeeeeep.
10:31 PM
Monday, January 06, 2003
I gots me a new online comic to plug today!
It's Cigarro and Cerveja. Cigarro is a rabbit. Cerveja is what appears to be a mallard duck. Heck, I enjoy it.
I shall also replug Sam and Fuzzy, just in case you missed it before.
I have decided that my new favorite quote is:
IF I HAD KNOWN IT WAS HARMLESS
I WOULD HAVE KILLED IT MYSELF
It's quite a good quote. It speaks so eloquently about the modern human condition, and life itself. Plus, it makes me laugh. Always a plus.
i am the eggman
i am the eggmen
i am the walrus
A truly wonderous song. I think that you agree.
Oh yes, I got a NEW CD! It's 'Goldfly' by Guster. Jess got it for me. Jess knows my twisted little musical tastes so well. I am terribly surprised that anyone can remember any of the bands I like without looking them up or something.
Thank you, Jess! I love it!
(Come to think of it, I guess it wouldn't be too hard to look up the bands I like. They're posted on this very site. Gosh, I never thought of that before)
Noah didn't like The Two Towers. Noah liked Titanic. Never trust Noah's opinion on a movie unless you've seen the movie yourself and happen to agree. Forget about Brown. He didn't like Lord of the Rings? He's a fool. Fool!
Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law, is another Adult Swim cartoon that kicks the proverbial bottom. I laughed a lot. Ha ha. It may be my favorite one. It's either Harvey Birdman or that deranged Aqua Teens one. I think the good stuff is on Sunday nights, if you're interested (and you ought to be), but I still haven't quite figured out the schedule.
Farscape! Friday! Holy cats! I can't frigging wait! Farscape! Friday!
That'll do.
5:43 PM
Saturday, January 04, 2003
Just now I was excavating some of the more heavily sedimented areas of my room, in a desperate search for largish sheets of paper, on which I was intending to scribe some comic book crud. Gotta do all that formatting on big paper, it doesn't work well on the regularly-sized stuff.
As I rummaged through the untold layers, I uncovered an unusually organized cache of writings. By 'organized' I mean that there were many little loose folded sheets of paper covered in untidy scrawls, all tucked into an entirely unused journal. The papers themselves weren't organized, but the fact that there were a number of them in one place astonished me. I generally make these little writings whenever I can't get to the computer to blog, and I generally throw them any old place after I've written them, presumably in the hopes of blogging them eventually, but realistically resigning myself to never seeing them again.
In any event, I curiously read through all of them, just to see what was going on in my deranged little mind so very long ago (i.e. last year. Last school year, I mean). Some of it was stuff that I definintely will not post herein, as it involved certain details of and events in my life at that time that are best left on little sheets of paper distributed randomly about my room. I deem them unsuited for public consumption.
Some of them, though, were amusing and appropriate to me even now. I cannot reprint them all herein, because that would take too damn long, and look at how long it's taken me just to introduce them properly! Great golly gee, I am awfully verbose tonight. That's what I get for reading Pride and Prejudice.
So here you are, some crazy little blasts from the past. The first three were written while I was in school. During classes. That being junior year. What a glorious year. Anywho, may they bring you joy and happiness and all things good.
--dated: Oct. 2001 labelled: precalc notes
I forget who I was talking to, but someone told me that they thought it was hard to consider teachers human. I dunno, I wonder about that sometimes.
This conversation I have just witnessed:
Maddie: Noah Pohl... your socks... are so incredible!
Noah: (looks down at his socks)... Thank you.
hyPERbola
HYPERbola
hyperBOla
hyperboLA
--dated: Mar. 2001 labelled: a poem on doni marie a cat god i am bored
Doni Marie
The cat for you and me
Just wait and see
The joys there'll be
When full of glee
Out from a tree
Comes rocketing she
The glorious
So splendid
FE-line
Doni Marie!
(a note at the bottom of this signed by Corey)
'I thought it was a poem by Demi Moore, the cat. Hmmm...'
--dated: Oct. 16, 2001 labelled: random thoughts from 3 class periods
the 24th of october is united nations day, so be sure to put on your sombreros, pick up your strudels, wax your mustaches and celebrate!
candy pumpkins are SO much better than the intestinal flu, but maybe not if you're a virus. especially if you are an intestinal flu virus. no, maybe not then. or is the intestinal flu a bacteria? i wouldn't know, but i'll bet you the diatoms would.
buy a car, support the economy, get in an accident, reduce global overpopulation.
it just doesn't get much better than that, mon ami, it just doesn't get much better than that.
the trash can was metallic gray, the color of metallic gray paint, or maybe some metal that was gray.
--dated: undated (but I think it must be early this summer) labelled: o boy that was fun
OK, this is me in the present. The following is a bit long, but I decided to reprint it all here because I was amused by it when I read it again. It may not amuse you, but that's not my business. Names and certain words have been changed to protect the guilty, but if you know anything about anything you'll recognize pretty much everyone/everything mentioned. Here you go:
It is late. I have just escaped from the Internet.
Many, many hours ago my evil brother went to bed. "Be QUIET when you go to bed!" he hissed, glaring in that glazed, wild-eyed way that he has, most often reserved for use when charging down small, innocent children. I am a considerate sister. I put the computer on 'mute', I get out of the squeaky chair and sit on the stool, I close the door. Wow, I am too good to this beast.
I am talking online to Anna. After a bit I stop talking to Anna to read NotMyDesk.com, which is hilarious and well-written. Anna stops talking to me, presumably to go speak with someone who will pay a little more attention to the conversation. I get tired. It is already tomorrow, that is, 12:15 am. I sign off.
As I am signing off Anna suddenly IMs me. "Wait!" So I sigh (quietly, of course. Musn't wake the dragon). I sign back on. It takes my computer forever. The dial-up seems endless when the sound is off. I have gnashed my teeth until I have nothing but gums and a stub of tongue left in my mouth. Finally, I am back online. "What?" I say, brilliantly.
Anna informs me that there is a party tomorrow night,probably on the beach, with probably some people there. It is kind of a going-away party for two of our friends, who are not going away but who are going to work at an overnight camp, with weekends off, for some of the summer. So we must party like we will never see them again. But this is Swampscott. Any excuse to party.
It is 12:25 am. Jen IMs me. "Do you have a wet/dry vacuum?" My mind slowly processes this unlikely question and asks, "What for?" Jen replies, "For cleaning. Duh." I consider. I say that I may have such a cleaning device. If Jen were to call me tomorrow when I was awake, say, late afternoon, it is even probable that I would have such a thing. "OK you," Jen says, wittily. "Laterz." As I am contemplating the 'z' on 'laterz', Jen signs off. I realize Anna has IMed me. I had not realized this before because the computer, and thus any IM *ding* noise, is muted.
"It will be a big party with cheese for people who want it and not-eating-cheese if you don't. Fred is planning it." The twin disaster situations of cheese-party-on-public-property and Fred-planning-anything collide in my mind. "Fred is getting cheese?? Fred is planning??" I IM incredulously. "We're doomed. He'll accidentally call the police department while trying to invite people. Fred can't plan anything. Fred couldn't plan a compound sentence without getting confused and lost. Doom."
I cannot believe that anyone would think this is a good idea. This is a bad idea. This is a resoundingly bad idea.
"Ha ha!" Anna says. "No, no, don't worry. Albert and Jen are getting the cheese. Fred is just in charge of the guest list." I indicate my earlier concerns. "I know I know," she says. She knows? Evidently we are not knowing the same things here. "Bob and Roger will be there," she says, as if that is supposed to reassure me that it will all be well. I can see it now. Bob and Roger will, with a little encouragement from certain other persons, have too much fun with the cheese. Why wouldn't they? More importantly, why would Anna think that telling me Bob and Roger will be there would ease my fears? I wonder, gaping in exhausted confusion at the computer screen.
But I decide not to press the issue. It is around 1:30 am, and my higher brain functions are beginning to shut down. I also begin to worry that I am going to get in trouble for keeping my entire household awake with my violent typing. I ask, nonchalantly, "Oh. So do we have a time yet?" "Nope!" Anna asserts cheerfully. I thoughtfully reflect that this is to be expected if Fred is planning this particular shindig. I ask her to call me tomorrow (damn, I mean, today). She agrees. I can, somehow, feel her perkiness through the computer. I wonder what she's getting from me on her end. It sure ain't perkiness.
"I'm only going to be there for a little bit, with Bill," she adds, irrelevantly. My mind hunts around to identify Bill and finally settles on a senior whom I know only through reputation. Anna has mentioned him rather a lot lately, and I idly wonder if he will be the next Anna-conquest. I do not know why I am supposed to care why she will be going to this disaster party with Bill, for a little bit. Is this information supposed to mean something to me? Would it make sense if I were actually awake? Am I supposed to react?
I decide that it is an unsubtle Anna hint, preparing me for the announcement, sometime in the near future, that Anna is dating this character. "OK," I say, online.
"Well, Jess will be there," Anna says (Jess is actually Jess. I'm too lazy to change any more names, and besides, she's not guilty of anything, so there's nothing to protect). "I would talk to Jess and find out what she's doing."
I suddenly realize that Anna is talking about leaving if too many people have eaten cheese and the party sucks. That is what the Bill-and-I-for-a-little-bit comment was supposed to make me think about. Maybe. Anyways, I say, "Yes. I shall. Good night." I wait to make sure she is not going to tell me to wait again. She does not.
I sign off, silently. I stealthily turn off the computer, get off the non-squeaking but unspeakably uncomfortable stool. I turn off the light. I tiptoe to my room in the impenetrable darkness, creaking every other floor board and praying I don't knock into the litter box. I make it to my room without swearing loudly. I sneak in. I close the door. My foot snags a little on something, but hey, it must be nothing. I turn on the light.
I have stepped on a piece of heavily glue-sticked notebook paper and now it is stuck, firmly and irrevocably, to the bottom of my sock. I tug listlessly at the sock for a little bit, but the glue stick ain't giving up. I decide to give up first and relinquish the sock.
It is now 2:22 am. I am tired. I have written this down because I felt like it. But now I have had enough. I am going to bed.
the end
And there you are! Those are my little thoughts from years past. I am fascinated by them, especially by the uncannily prophetic nature of my Anna/Bill prediction. Wow. I am so oberservant. And clever. And clairvoyant. And such.
You are in awe. You know that you are.
12:54 AM
Thursday, January 02, 2003
HAPPY FREAKING NEW YEAR!!
Guess what, folks? This is the year that I graduate!! This one! This year right here! 2003! Graduation! Yegads, I'm so happy.
Anywho, I hope that you all had a good new years party to attend. I did. It was slow at the start, but then it got fun. I took a substantial number of photos, which does much to keep me content. I get them back this weekend. Yup. Fun.
I got home around 1 am, and then foolishly stayed up 'till around 3, watching cartoons. Irresistable cartoons. Holy cats, those things are bizarre. But funny. And addictive. Alas, I am now returned to my normal sleeping hours, so I shall have to forgo that particular avenue of entertainment for the nonce.
If you like strange, unfathomable little drawings, I suggest exploding dog 2002. They kind of grow on you. You look at a couple and you think, 'That's not so great. This guy can't draw'. But then you look at more of them and you start to like them. The titles are so random, and the images that attend them are so random. My especial favorites thus far are:
-that's high school physics
-ignore him, he is not good enough
-if it were worth fixing, it wouldn't break
-you'll love it, trust me
-put that away
-are you expecting someone?
-this hole i've dug is mine forever
and
-i think your cat is drunk
If you're just visiting the site to get the flavor of it, try those. If you're there to really get into it, you have to look at them all. Of course.
I have decided to be a good student. I am going to start studying for my biology midyear today. If I do two chapters a night, I should finish before the midyear. Biology is the only class I will do something like that in, because, to be quite honest with you, dear reader, if I do not make the effort, I will most assuredly fail the test.
That was kind of a run-on sentence. Sorry.
We got some snow today, but not enough to make them close school. We didn't even get a courtesy delay. Sigh. Naturally our only big snow of the year was over vacation, when it could do nothing at all to close school. The world is against us.
By 'us', I mean all who are seniors, and therefore do not have to make up snow days.
I crack a window and feel the cool air cleanse my every pore as I pour my poor heart out. <--- That's from Eve 6. Isn't it an awesome line? I think so.
Dentist tomorrow. Yuck. What a royal pain in the derrière.
I found the pens I like! They stopped selling them for a while, and now they are again, but they're only selling them in the boxes of 12. Gone are the days when I could purchase them in the little packs of 4. Alas. How I yearn for those days. In any event, I'm pretty happy I found them again, because I was starting to run dangerously low, and these pens are necessary for my artistic expression. Nothing else will do. Nothing.
Sigh. You know how some vacations, you're sad that they're over, but you're actually kind of glad to get back to school and see everyone again? You know those vacations?
This wasn't one of them. I had absolutely no desire to go back to school, for any reason.
And the Twisting has Begun.
4:08 PM
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