Deranged and Amused

A Love Song For My Friends

2005-07-09T19:16:00.000-07:00

There are some days that lend themselves unusually to revelation, and yesterday was one of those days for me. I know that I am a blessed person, but like most humorous cynics (or at least a cynic who tries to be humorous but is sometimes rather annoying, I'm sure) I don't recognize this as much as I should. It's often the bitchy little bedbugs of life that distract my attention, the headaches and nightmares, the offense taken from a harmless comment, ugly traffic, ugly weather, countless "I feel fat/gross/less than fabulous" moments that would have been better kept to myself. Other times I ensnare myself in problems well beyond my control, problems that while they merit my informed concern and support cannot be completely changed by this one tiny woman that I constantly forget that I am, as if by sheer force of will I can unelect Bush, stop Al Quaeda, mend broken hearts and undeserved self-hate, bring indoor plumbing to the third world, etc. All of this worrying and bitching can take away from the realization of how lucky I am, cliche and all. Yes, I'm fairly intelligent, I have a comfortable life, good parents, a cute cat, many opportunities awaiting me, but I also have something that I think is truly unique among my generation. I have these friends that I can trust above all else, that I love and support more than almost anyone on the planet. I mean, if I was ever caught in some "War of the Worlds" mass panic shit, these are the people that I would want to spend my last moments with before being vaporized by alien tripods... and I'm sure that even in such a terrifying situation, we would find some way to comfort each other. Joking and bad metaphors aside, last night when we were all sitting around the dinner table and laughing our asses off quite loudly to something only funny to us (much to the frustration of the prim old ladies sitting one table over), I was reminded of how strangely fortunate it is that we have all found each other. For the past four years I have had friends that I not only laugh with until I crack ribs, but friends I can vent to when the day just keeps going down the tubes, friends I can grieve with when something devastating happens to me, friends I can be there for when something equally devastating occurs in their lives, friends with whom I can play, sweat, sing, and cry and it never seems the slightest bit awkward. I never had this kind of community before I met these people, and to be honest I think I was quite closed off, emotionally, to anything like we have now. But I did meet these lovable, amazing goofballs I speak of, and they have taught me how to have relationships that don't revolve around characters in the novel I happen to be reading, and for this I am incredibly grateful. You are my family, and I only hope that I have given back as much love and support to you as you all have so freely given to me. I am truly blessed to know you all...here's to countless more years of the same.

One Thumb Down, One on the Fence

2005-06-28T20:41:00.000-07:00

I have been to New Orleans and back. I have fought the demons of high school chaperones, the banality of Beta general conventions, and the incredible crampedness of our tiny, tiny planes. That said, there were some parts of the trip that I truly enjoyed. The city is a kind of antique that is beautiful through its visible dirt and imperfections, like a well-used table that has scratches in the paint and dents on the legs, but is labeled by a dealer as "rustic, distressed" and priced at five times its value. The architecture of New Orleans is lovely and Victorian in detail, but the enjoyment of such edifices is often lessened by the aromatic melange of sewer, "fresh" urine, and beer that pervades. I enjoyed such tourist activities as paying exorbitant amounts of money for un-airconditioned taxi rides and tiny meals a la carte. Preservation Hall was the highlight of the trip, and only cost five dollars. There's nothing like good, live, genuine jazz/blues to make you forget the crappy parts of a mediocre trip. I also seem to have contracted a very painful disease while I was in Nawlins (and no, it wasn't acquired in the French Quarter by questionable means) and now have to get bloodwork to determine the deadliness of said disease. Thank you, Crescent City. I do have to make a small disclaimer here, and that is that I would almost certainly have enjoyed the trip more had it not been Beta-related and suffocatingly high-schoolish, so lovers of New Orleans don't hate me for my kvetching. Next post: adventures in child care professionalism. Yeah, I'm a babysitter. Let me have some dignity.

Toad Shit

2005-06-08T23:00:00.000-07:00

I hate toads. I hate the way they congregate by my front door. I hate the way their beady little eyes look. I hate that they are so stupid that they jump between the door hinges and the wall almost every time I try to shut the door, and quite frankly I am surprised I haven't killed one of them accidentally yet. Most of all I hate that they shit all over the damn place. Our front walk is covered in toad turds. Toad turds! It's alliterative but not amusing in the least. They are vile, disgusting, messy creatures and I hate them. Now, take this perfectly legitimate rant and apply it to some other areas of my life. More specifically, one area. "Toad shit" is how I feel about this situation: it's there, I did nothing to cause it, it's messy, and I have absolutely no control over it. I can't clean up the toad shit any more than I can help this situation, and it makes me sad. I hope this rambling analogy has made some sort of sense...I can't rant specifically about what I want to, so I rant about toads. And their shit. Fucking toads.

Good Lord, Finally

2005-05-31T18:13:00.000-07:00

Brace yourselves. The earth will tremble, mimes will speak, all the Extreme Makeovers will reverse themselves (to the dismay of overBotoxed people everywhere: Kristin is writing a new entry (Originally I wrote that Extreme Makeover dig to read "to the dismay of the entire population of Appalachia", but decided it wasn't P.C. enough to put in. Except that I just did. Oops). Today is the first day that I've felt I might be able to write something without feeling it was an academic obligation and getting one of the most commonly manifested symptoms of senioritis, pissedoffness (and yes, that is the official medical term). There's something about being wholly exhausted, mind-body-spirit zonked, that doesn't make one want to expound creatively on any subject, even when there are so many to write about. All of you pretty much know what's been going on in my life recently, that I graduated high school and practically had a coronary I was so excited. Graduation was spent next to a sweaty, 350+ lb. hick (gotta love alpha order) who hit on me the entire ceremony plus the three days of graduation practice that preceded it. Our senior gift: blue rubber "cause" bracelets that say Class of 2005. Whoopee. In my opinion, those things are little more than glorified rubber bands, and suck even then because they are not quite stetchy enough to be used as rubber bands. That really disappointed me when, about an hour and a half into the balls-hot ceremony, I tried to use the damn thing to tie my hair back and it didn't work. Since when is our class a cause, anyway? Did a tsunami hit Martin County High School recently that I was not awate of? Are all 500 graduating MCHS seniors dying of cancer? Are we about to be shipped into Iraq and therefore would need to be supported as a "troop"? None of these hypotheticals sound especially attractive to me...that rubber may have had a more productive life if it had been used alternatively, perhaps as a doorstop. Everyone needs doorstops. Secondly, but no less importantly, my personal life has had happy improvements. I'm not quite as comfortable as some with putting relationship news on my blog (I love you Mark...), so I'll just say I'm happy. You can wonder a little bit, it's good for you. Like fiber. Ciao, babes.

he he

2005-04-19T20:32:00.000-07:00

Well, I just got back from Beta States about 4 hours ago. Interesting experience, mostly a good one. I got first place in both events I entered (English and Creative Writing), which was somewhat surprising to me. Also, I have a really big smile on my face, even though I don't really have a concrete reason to smile yet. I'm keeping my fingers crossed! The rest of you are just going to have to wonder what the hell I'm talking about until I have time to write a proper post. Later dudes.

In General, Not Bad

2005-04-11T20:00:00.000-07:00

The world waits, rests on the most volatile edge of itself. The clashing of possibilities is palpable, a stultifying miasma of alternatives. If one breathes too deeply, even twitches in the direction of one of the more forceful of options, all of its opponents rush down the throat and strangle themselves therein. Breathing becomes auxiliary, and racing thoughts feed the neglected body.
And there is your philosophical commentary for the day...tuppence to anyone who knows what I'm talking about. Truth be told, it hasn't been a terrible day...actually sort of surprising. Of the horrific scores on my class's government test today, mine was the second least horrific. I coninued correspondence with my UM saint, Mike, who hopefully can bend the university's ear to the tune of $10,000 more a year. I had a nice parking-lot conversation with Josh (one day maybe we'll see each other outside of the realm of space G89...I miss you, Josh!), and maybe possibly a date of some sort (not with Josh- don't worry, Gina!). I'm not sure if that will materialize into an actual date, but at this point even the slim possibility gives me a thrill. You know, doctors are making disorders out of just about anything now - I even saw a drug advertised to cure "chronic dry eye". If my eyes feel dry, I'll put eyedrops in them for goodness' sake, but now that there's a prescription drug that does the same thing, our hypochondriac nation is going to pay out the butt for it. What I wonder is, we have "erectile disfunction", and "female sexual dysfunction", but what about severe sexual frustration? When it gets bad enough, it impairs job performance and increases irritability, which seem to be the only qualifications needed for doctors to diagnose a psychological disorder ( I, of course, am grossly overgeneralizing and do not wish to be sued by any medical associations). Someone should really look into capitalizing on this market, though I am hoping that in a few months I will no longer be qualified to be the spokesperson for the condition. Let your imaginations run wild, I'm out for today.

Down to This

2005-04-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

I have recovered from two self-imposed hiatuses: my six months as a brunette and my two weeks from blogging (though that period feels almost as long). I'm blonde and blogging, and though the two have really no connection whatsoever, they are fabulously alliterative. I am now in the final panic-stretch of this crazy year. Everything will be done and over with (minus AP shitters) in three weeks. Three weeks! A year long trial, plus the eleven years of work that preceded it, and now it's down to a number of days small enough to count on my appendages. I have decided, pretty much, that I want to go to University of Miami. I didn't think I did, and I'm still in love with North Carolina, but when I left Miami on Sunday I started to feel a separation. Certain places have no lingering effect on me at all when I leave them, othet than a slight shudder of disgust: school, doctors' offices, the state of Georgia...but then others get to me and whisper at my ear until I see them again. I find myself wondering, how is Coral Gables doing today? What shadows are the banyan trees casting as the sunlight darts through their leaves? Can there really be such a paradise as college, am I really that close to attaining freedom? And when I get it, what the hell do I do with it? And where, exactly, do I get the rest of the $39,700 a year I need to go to Miami, if indeed I choose to go there? Ugh. Too many questions. If anyone has any miraculous insight (or even just fantastic insight), I would love to be enlightened.

My Great Affair

2005-03-24T14:50:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that I am allergic to the entire Southeastern U.S. Not figuratively, literally. Only now are my eyes starting to go back to being white and green after having been pink and green for the last four days, and I am itchy and sneezy to boot. However, I do not blame the state of North Carolina (from where I have just returned), because it is a beautiful, wondrous place and should not be faulted for anything. I didn't want to leave at all, for so many reasons. First of all, since I was visiting colleges there I might be going to next year (God and the financial aid offices willing), I got to fantasize about the near future when I will be living like an adult, and more importantly treated like an adult and not a juvenile delinquent thinly disguised as a straight-A, mild-mannered high school student (hooray for the public school system!). I had many happy little scenarios plotted out in my head: visions of coffee house poetry readings, leaves turning vibrant in autumn, a beautiful, intelligent boy to walk with on the first cold winter's night, learned professors with artists' hands....I have fallen head over heels bonkers for college. This could be my second great love affair.
Speaking of beautiful boys, there must be something in that heady North Carolina pollen that mutates the cuteness gene in the male population (another reason why I really wish you had been there, Mark). I felt like I was in a living museum of hotness...especially this one guy in a Thai restaurant in Chapel Hill. Dark hair, green eyes, tall, looked in my general direction a few times (though I'm sure he wasn't really looking at me, but some interesting spot on the wallpaper...sigh.). I had a good night, needless to say.
I want this so bad. College, not the guy (though if someone could arrange that hot boys are included in tuition, that would be fabulous, thanks.). I don't think I have ever wanted anything quite so badly. These colleges are such little paradises, so perfect for me that I'm half convinced I'm dreaming all this stuff up, but usually in my dreams there is an Earth-destroying natural disaster or Hitler is reincarnated as a toad, and since neither of these things have happened yet I think I'm mostly rooted in reality. The good news is I'll know in a week or two whether or not I'm accepted, and a week or so after that financial aid horrors. Any positive thinking you all could throw my way would be much appreciated. Next post, I'll try to remember to tell my reasons for hating to drive with my mother...funny stuff.

Interlude

2005-03-14T21:38:00.000-08:00

Someday, somehow, in a not-too-distant future, when the days of wine and roses have come and gone...oh stuff it. What i'm trying to say is that I will blog very very soon, but not tonight, when I'm running on 2 hours of sleep. Patience is a virtue after all, though it's seldom one of mine.

Into the Infinite Abyss

2005-02-23T13:57:00.000-08:00

Welcome to almost-the-end-of-February. T-minus 2.5 months to go before my escape from juvenile hell (ok, technicalliy it's three months and three days, but between spring break and weekends and all that crap, I think I can safely eliminate eighteen days from that timeline). Everything is quite insane, which, oddly enough, is causing me to be quite calm at the moment. I have about 5000 things to do before March 1, but am I panicking? Naw. Should I be? Oh most definitely. Instead I've literally been laughing through my classes, that nervous "we're screwed" kind of laughter that is always missing from disaster movies because the characters have to seem manly and whatnot. They only show that when a character is about to go insane and launch himself into the volcano/tornado/infinite abyss etc. instead of waiting patiently for doom to come to him. It's a shame, really, because they are usually the most interesting characters in those sort of movies. Well, I must go throw myself into a volcano now, either that or actually start studying my "infinite abyss" of crap. More later...I'm sure there will be a sequel, since I'm the main character and, as you all know, main characters can't die. Ta, chickies.

wheee

2005-02-19T12:33:00.000-08:00

Greetings from Gville. I am currently commandeering Erica's computer to write about nothing. Hurrah! Actually, I am waiting for this professor to call me back from Davidson...he says he has good news for me about a scholarship that's like $20,000 a year, so that would be awesome. AAAUGGH! CALL ME BACK!!! Ok,well I thought that by talking about him maybe he would call, but that isn't working. Ciao babes.

My Wish List

2005-02-14T17:06:00.000-08:00

Aaah, yes..February 14th. You all probably thought I had forgotten to write my traditional anti-Valentine's Day post, but no such luck, my friends. What I'd like to share with you first of all is of particular interest, brought to my attention via the wisdom of the Palm Beach Post. Apparently, celebrating Valentine's Day is illegal in Saudi Arabia, because it is considered an "unorthdox creation that Islam does not sanction". Yes, Islam has cancelled a holiday that lost its religious significance about the year 600 A.D., and has gotten in a tizzy about what should now be called Love a Consumer Whore Day (or the slightly kinder version, "Singles Awareness Day"; thank you Lauren Price for your contribution). The really fun part about all of this is that a black market for Valentine's related items has spawned in the midst of this illogic. Yes, in Saudi Arabia Valentine's goods are sold illegally for three or four times their worth, and sales people cower from the long arm of the muttawa, Saudi religious police (yes, there is such a thing...I wonder if they ever collaborate with the fashion police...) and if caught with virtually anything red or pink are subject to arrest and detention in jail.Wow. As much as i hate this $#%@$#^ing holiday, I am damn sure proud to be an American after reading that.
On a gentler note, I have recently (under the influence of several romntic comedies and emotionally significant songs) been pondering what exactly I want in a (dare I say it?) Valentine, assuming that one of these millenia the cosmos will actually align in my favor and grant me with a partner who is mine and mine alone. ::sighs:: Anyway, there are a couple of things (in addition to the always-appreciated tall, dark and handsome clauses) that I thought of. Here it is, my "Grown-Up Valentine List" (stealing from a cheesy song is just revenge, don't hurt me):
1) Must be able to dance with me without shame. I am the first to say that I am a terrible dancer, and would never subject anyone else to dance with me in public. In the privacy of my own home, however, I love to dance around and look like the dork I am and any guy who loves me has to accept that, and if he wants to join in even better.
2) Pillow fights, picnics in random places, and beach walks are all vital (see above).
3) Must have appreciation for literature. I would love to find a guy who likes to read, but at the very least he must have some knowledge of literature outside of the Hustler realm.
4) Must love good food, and if God loves me especially much, I would love love love someone who likes to cook. Providing a good meal for someone you love is one of the best feelings in the world (says the future Stepford wife :) ).
5) Minimal baggage. I have enough of my own, I don't need to carry anyone else's in addition, thanks.

Well, that's the beginnings, more as i think of it. Have a happy day everyone.

I Love Josh Groban!

2005-01-31T21:45:00.000-08:00

Josh Groban is a god.
There really is no other way to say it: every woman ( and some men, I'm sure) should be in love with this gorgeous, witty, talented man. I mean, I thought he was attractive beforehand ( and that his voice was blow-you-away astounding) but now that I've seen him in person, I am totally, completely, hopelessly enamored. His performance has rendered me inarticulate on the subject; all that I'm able to force through my mouth is a big fat "wow" at the moment. ::sighs happily::
Here are some other things I love: caffeine, feeling extremely sexy in my new jeans, only three and a half months of high school left...yeah. There's some stuff to look forward to I guess. But unfortunately I get to spend the rest of my night doing more physics (because two hours already isn't enough), so I must cut this update short. Ta, dudes.

Notes From the Foxhole

2005-01-20T16:02:00.000-08:00

It's finally here: this time tomorrow (hopefully) I should have my very own, souped up little Powerbook G4 to love and cherish. Ok, maybe not in such an extreme way, but I will be quite appreciative to have a higher-functioning computer. Upgrading from a rock to an Uzi, if you will. I will no longer be ashamed of my technology! Huzzah, huzzah.
Also on a better note, I'm feeling less like a crazy person. Still having a difficult time, but I can actually pay attention when I'm driving, which makes the police and the State Farm people much less anxious. I made a promise to myself to just "buck it up" and focus on the goal I'm trying to achieve. I've found that sometimes you have to force something a bit until it becomes more natural. No, force is the wrong word - force implies lying, and I never lie about my emotions...that would just cause all sorts of merde - I think "nudge" is more appropriate. You must put forth extra effort in order to preserve relationships, even if you'd much rather avoid everything, just as long as what you say and do is true to what you really feel. Truth = so much less pain. I am still hopeful that everyone will be ok, and if it takes some crying and heavy thinking in order for me to also be ok, then so be it. Take care, everyone.

Repression

2005-01-17T15:25:00.000-08:00

Hello, blog, how are you today?
How am I?
That's a good question...I don't really know. I think "moderately shitty" best describes it, sort of ill and very much low (and yes, the two are related). I want to lash out or something but I can't thanks to my devotion to logic. Anger doesn't make a situation better, ever. Yet I wish I could allow myself some sort of selfishness like that. Instead, I skip all stages of grief and settle on acceptance. Does it make the situation better to do this? Yes. Does it make me better to do this? No, not really. Eventually it does, I know, but in the meantime it just makes me sick and sad and crack lots of jokes so everyone else doesn't know i'm sick and sad. Hurrah for defense mechanisms.
My movie soundtrack started up again, the annoying one that mirrors my life. For awhile I had peace in my head, and it was very nice, but the second something happens I'm back in my little indie movie, the kind that doesn't necessarily have a happy ending because Disney doesn't have their dirty little paws stuck in it. It could have a happy ending...I'm still waiting. Anyways, I have these two dueling Ben Folds songs in my head...that's really all the soundtrack is are those two songs. Now, Ben's one of my most favorites ever, but I need to be able not to listen to his songs in the following manner: driving on the interstate in heavy traffic with the CD player up really freaking loud, hitting repeat on this same #$^%$#%ing song over and over again while simultaneously singing along and crying. If for no other reason, I will eventually have an accident if I keep joining my soundtrack like this. And this fucking long weekend has been driving me up the fucking wall and I just want it to be over so SOMETHING can happen, even if it's just more shittiness. It's the not knowing how things will turn out that kills me, and I know that I have to be patient and accomodating and a good friend and all the rest, and I'll do all of that but right now it's making me ill. I just don't know what to do, and for those of you who know me you know that's when I feel the worst - indecision is my proverbial kryptonite.
Enough of this. I will just have to see what happens...I do have hope, I'm not sure for what, but I do know it's there and that makes me feel somewhat stronger. As long as you're alive there's hope.

Food, Glorious Food!

2005-01-09T12:04:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a truly wonderful evening. It wasn't just because I got to spend it with Steve (which, of course, just made it even more fantastic ;) ), or that my parents were gone for part of the evening, but because last night was the first time I've been able to eat normal food in three days. Oral surgery sucks big time. I consider myself pretty laid-back, food-wise: though I enjoy gourmet food, I enjoy canned soup and cheezits just as much. However, after eating nothing but soup and popsicles for three days, the very sight of a Campbell's can makes me want to scream, then vomit Linda Blair style. There is only so much liquified food one can eat before one's body freaks out. My stomach has felt like it's eating itself, which I think is a direct side effect from being unemployed. It feels like a useless organ: nothing to grind up, nothing to process....it feels neglected and therefore has decided to take its own life. Thanks to last night's dinner, though, I think my stomach has been brought back from the brink. It seems like its happy little gurgly self again, and since like most human beings my happiness is controlled to an extent by the state of my stomach, I'm feeling a lot better as well. It will be nice when I can stop taking three extra prescriptions a day, especially that generic vicodin crap that makes me want to go to sleep every five minutes. It's kind of sad that the only time I get my "recommended eight hours of sleep" is after I've had surgery and am physically traumatized. Something seems wrong about that. I'm also not sure what to do with my wisdom teeth. My dad wanted to give one to his friend....who he's frighteningly close to, apparently. How does one pose that question? "Hey man, you want one of my daughter's wisdom teeth?" Awkwardness. True, I don't need them anymore, but neither does anyone else. Then there's the creepiness factor of random people possessing pieces of me (not to be confused with the Ashlee Simpson musical travesty), which could be used for God knows what: voodoo, decorative beading, potpourri...they can make anything out of anything on those home improvement shows, ya know. Well, enough of that musing. I am going to go enjoy another one of life's great pleasures: leftovers!

Accepting Non-Linear Numbers

2005-01-03T14:40:00.000-08:00

Hmm...2005,eh? I'm not sure if I like this number. I always feel better when the year ends in an even number, I don't know why. 2005 is just so...awkward. 2004 was much better balanced. Everything in it was divisible by two, and it was just so linear and strong, a bunch of straight up-and-down numbers. Sigh. I suppose I'll learn to like this year eventually. It should be less traumatic than 2004 (and if it's not, then i just fucking give up) and I do have that whole college thing to look forward to. All in all things are looking up: I'm in love (and loved :)), no one's having a major crisis right now, and I finally got an i-pod, which is quite possibly the best invention ever. I'm not an antisocial person, but I am prone to headaches that are exacerbated by senseless chatter, and that wonderful little device has saved me from having to pay attention to the more trivial annoyances in life (my mother's daily litany of tasks she wants to accomplish, for example). I now offer my New Year's hope: may this year be sane and fulfilling, and may you never feel bored or forced to settle for the ordinary. Cheers,guys.

Golden Silence

2004-12-28T13:03:00.000-08:00

Belated merry Christmaramahanukwanzaamas everyone! I am finally alone in my house today, for the first time in weeks. My dad was off, then my mom was off, then they were both off together and I lost my mind. My mother has developed a wonderful habit (maybe this is common to women in the beginnings of menopause, I really don't know) of chattering constantly about her plans from now until Doomsday. I just really don't have an urge to know what she plans to have for breakfast for the rest of the month, or how her great-aunt is doing, or anything that involves an hour of pointless conversation. And the fighting! Don't pick a fight with me, period, because I have a bad habit of fighting it to the death, but really don't fight with me at 6:00 in the morning when I have about two brain cells awake to function. True, it levels the playing field a bit, but it won't make me any less pissed off once the rest of my brain realizes what the hell is going on. I think there needs to be a support group for the children of menopausal women, instead of Alanon make it Bitchanon or something. Is that too blatant? This is all going to bite me in the butt in about 35-40 years anyway, when I too turn into a raving hormonaholic. Gotta love the female thing. Well, I need to go accomplish what I need to get done today before my mother gets home...or I could just leave the house. That sounds pretty good too.

Back Again

2004-12-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

So...been awhile. I'm thinking maybe by mid-January I can reclaim my life enough to perform such idle amusements as blogging. The best news I have right now: I FINISHED MY APPLICATIONS!!! EVERY GODDAMN PART OF THEM!!! Ok, it's true that not all of my recommendation letters have been sent in, but that's not under my control. I am just so happy that I got those done before break. One less giant boulder hanging over my head. And my Christmas shopping is almost done, things are wrapped, and I am thinking of joining a religion that doesn't give Christmas gifts (Jehovah's Witnesses, anyone?) because I've definitely had a harder-than-usual ability to part with my money this year. Maybe it's because I now have to take care of veeery active children in order to get that money, and my family isn't even doing Christmas gifts because we have no money, thanks to the #@%$#@% hurricanes. Speaking of the hurricanes, I was at Walgreens today and I noticed that they had a "Frances & Jeanne Hurricane Video" on sale. For the low, low price of $15.95 you can relive the SEPTEMBER FROM HELL and watch as all your neighbors' roofs get smashed in by flying debris! Makes a wonderful stocking stuffer, right up there with grenade teddy bears! I get sarcastic when I'm tired, can you tell? Well, I really hope someone comments on this thing. I'll make a deal with you: I'll try and come up with a month's worth of blogs over break if you all send me a month's worth of comments. Because, seriously, there's no point in writing this thing if I don't get feedback. Grazi!

Thanksgiving: Only Moderately Evil

2004-11-25T13:08:00.000-08:00

Anyone who wants to retain their hearing until at least middle age, step back from your computer screen and cover your ears- (::clears throat::)Ok, ready? I AM LEGAL!!!! WOO-HOO!!! YAY FOR 18!!! Whew! That was tiring. But yes, I am now a legal adult and can embark on my dream career of Playboy model...right after I run to Publix and buy a couple of grapefruits to stuff in my shirt. Maybe I should stick with my original plan and use my intellect to support myself (what a concept!). And, of course, the other big issue on everyone's mind is today's celebration of Thanksgiving, a.k.a National Gluttony Day. Usually on Thanksgiving I indulge in a diatribe excoriating the wastefulness and lack of political correctness surrounding this holiday, but this year I am going to break tradition and simply wish everyone a happy day. I still don't like Thanksgiving, but as I now have more input as to what happens on this day I am learning to accept it. Anyone who misses my Thanksgiving vituperativeness, contact me and I will happily give you a personal rant, free of charge. To all the rest of you, have a great long weekend :) .

Moonbeams and Lollipops

2004-11-17T18:12:00.000-08:00

Today was absolutely gorgeous. It actually felt like November...what's that? Well, in this instance it meant that there was that clean, cold smell in the air, the smell that takes away all the fuzzy bad thoughts and replaces them with feelings of invincibility. Use this sensation wisely, lest you begin to think that flying is something that can be done without a boarding pass and tiny bags of peanuts (or do they even serve peanuts anymore? wasn't there a lawsuit about that awhile back?. In the proper dosages, however, this invincibility can be incredibly uplifting. Illogically knowing that you can do anything is supposed to be a quality belonging to carefree youth, but I've never really known anyone my age who seriously thought life was all sunshine and moonbeams and novelty-sized striped lollipops. I'm thinking that the lack of moonbeam thinking may very well be the demise of the soul of our generation, but since that's not a very sunshiny thing to say and it's been much too beautiful of a day to think in any other way,I'm not going to say it or think it or even acknowledge that I ever said I wouldn't think about it. Take that, clouds and air pollution - you shall not steal my inner radiance!!! I'm going to go be refulgent somewhere...join me, if it so pleases you.

f**king emotions

2004-11-14T16:10:00.000-08:00

So...been remiss on the blogging lately. I repent ::flogs self::. I haven't really wanted to blog about the way I've been feeling the past week. But no one's commented recently anyway so I guess my blogging hasn't been too missed. I digress...I am very happy with certain parts of my life, especially the presence of a certain person in my life, but for whatever reason I'm feeling pretty shitty about another part of my life. I wish I could turn off this feeling because i really don't need negative emotions right now. I have plenty of stuff to deal with, and yet I insist on being stupid and hurt. All I can say is have patience with me (you know who you are). I don't have any patience with myself right now, so it would be great if someone did. That's all for now. Complaining is making me feel worse.

Bill and Ted For Prez

2004-11-05T13:34:00.000-08:00

First of all, I would just like to say that gerbils rock. My nearly identical (I really am having difficulty telling them apart since they're the same size now) gerbil brothers, Bill and Ted, are extremely amusing creatures. Not only that, they are wonderfully self-sufficient. All they need to be happy is some food, water, bedding and a cardboard toilet paper roll to chew up now and then. Sort of the Amish equivalent in the rodentia family.The point that I am very slowly meandering towards (besides the declaration that I am a big dork :) ) actually concerns the election process. I bought my gerbils those plastic rolly-ball things as a reward for them finally learning how to maneuver in the rolly-ball and not just sit in it and groom themselves, and as I was watching them run around in these things (rolling into my walls and each other in the process) I had a thought. You see, one of the balls is red and the other is blue (hold the puns, please)which of course reminded me of those wascally wabbits, the Republicans and Democrats. As Bill and Ted continued to collide, I started thinking that maybe this is the answer to America's voting difficulties: we put each candidate in a giant gerbil ball and whoever makes it through an obstacle course the fastest gets to be the next President. Far-fetched? You betcha, though it would entail a show of intelligence, physical prowess, and humility on the part of the candidates, and since most voters tend to vote with their hearts rather than their logic anyway, this would accomplish the same result just in a more amusing way. And Florida couldn't be blamed for lousy results anymore, either; we have enough problems from natural disasters and old people already, thanks.

One-Legged Japanese

2004-10-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

Last night I went out and watched the lunar eclipse from start to finish. That's the first time I've ever done that...it felt pretty good. I think the full moon is messing with my mind, though. Not that I would ever blame how I feel on a natural phenomenon (::cue sarcastic laughter::), but the loopiness continues. Only now it's baring big, moody teeth, but you know what? I'm realizing I'm just going to have to ride that out. There's not a whole lot I can do about anything right now, and that has allowed me (for better or worse, I'm not sure) to step out of this movie set and try and see exactly where I fit in with my unwitting castmates. Sometimes I have to think completely random thoughts to scare away the fuming cloud of irony that has settled above my little head...like what would happen to the productivity of Japan if all the workers had only one leg? Would America be ahead then? Or would we be soundly beaten by one-legged, angry businessmen? Is anyone willing to take bets on this, and if yes for how much? I'm going to go rest my head of these thoughts now. I fully support the expression of barely coherent thought (viva la first amendment!), but if I lose connection to any more neurons tonight I may start to drool, which is not only unattractive but bad for my computer. More later.

Beware the Jumping Bean

2004-10-27T13:30:00.000-07:00

Greetings and salutations.
I'm having one of those days where every action seems to have a soundtrack accompanying it. Which makes sense considering how movie-like my life has been recently. This has been a topic of much discussion among my friends and I lately - why do our lives have more complex plots than most of the drivel hitting the theaters right now? The one exception I've seen recently was Garden State, but while some people who saw it said it was kind of weird, it made perfect sense to me. One day I'm going to write a screenplay about all of this, and get sued by various people for defamation of character. Woo-hoo!
It's not been a bad movie, really. Parts of it have. I've definitely had more heart-plummeting-to-stomach moments in the past month than I've had...well, not in my entire life, but more than average based on the last few years' data. But, like any movie that attempts to please its audience by being more uplifting in the end, my movie is formulating some of those perfect moments, full moon cool breeze mellow music electric grinning moments. Moments where I wish I could dance because then I'd have a physical expression for the way it feels and not just smile like an idiot or jump up and down like I always end up doing. I am the Spastic Happy Person! Of course, my reaction to bad stress is pretty much the same, only I also laugh at inappropriate times. I guess the safest bet if you see me jumping around is just to point and laugh. This will cover all bases.
Well, I'm supposed to be doing something productive ::laughs::. Ciao, chickies.

Here We Go Again

2004-10-25T19:44:00.000-07:00

Well here it is.
The reincarnation of my blog - different (hopefully more secure) site, different name, same slightly skewed brain behind the operation. Maybe it's good that I haven't had a blog for the past few months, because as most of you should know, it's been...er...interesting lately. I think if I had had a blog during that time, it would have been severely abused and hidden from me out of fear. But now that my life has settled into a semi-stable state (boy, look at all that alliteration there. I need to stop before I hurt myself), I thought I'd give this blog thing a whirl now. Sooo...that's all I have to say at the moment, but there will be more interesting posts to come.
Promise promise.