Of 2010, baby!
...I got invited to a frat party.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Darn ramblings.
So, I went out with Austin.
I'm just going to pretend that's it's NOT 3:30 in the morning right now, because this story is amusing and also centered on me and a cute boy and therefore needs to be told in extremity. So.
Yesterday I was staying up until all hours texting people, as per normal. (Btw, Sonia seems to think that I'm her personal psychologist or something. She has been texting me with very depressing and emo statements for the last several days, and also asking my opinion on the SAME DAMN SUBJECT for about the same duration. Sexy shit, what am I, a problem dump? I have feelings TOO! GOSH! *storms out*) Anyway... where was I? Ah, yes. So I was also texting Austin, because that is always amusing. He asked me what I was doing today (oh, how subtle-not), and when I said probably watching Glee and eating leftover chocolate cake, he said, and I quote, "u should slip some hang with Austin in there =)". So I said sure, and then today he came driving up in his red sports car and picked me up. We went to Gourmet Pizza. He bought mine! Hell yes! Not spending money is something I approve of vastly. After that, we walked around the city for awhile, and then got boba. He bought that for me too. Um, can I say total TURN-ON? There's nothing sexier than a guy who won't make you buy your own food. At any rate, he's actually a pretty interesting person (for a white guy). He actually understood what I said and didn't gawp like a goldfish with head trauma every time I used a word with more than two syllables, which is really a plus (Cough*Justin*cough). He is even not a conservative prick, and doesn't want to go to an Adventist college! And I can even be myself around him (ish), and by that I mean not worrying if I accidentally let fly a few f-bombs or so. And get this! He opened the door for me! OPENED THE FRIGGIN DOOR! Even the car door! I can't believe it! He was very chivalrous! Yet he didn't stare at my boobs or my ass, ask my bra size, suggest a game of truth-or-striptease, make jokes about my personal anatomy or the inferior mental condition of the feminine sex, or ask me what I would do if we happened to be stuck together in a small and very sexually charged room, so I cannot but help feeling that he doesn't like me. Oh well. He texted me tonight saying that he had had fun and thanks and we should go out again (!!!!!!) and also that I was "really damn cute". SHIT! This guy is either the most playing player or he's bored out of his friggin mind! I've NEVER seen a guy be that intelligible before! He only misspelled about 1% of his words! And he is... well, I gotta say it. Even if I am a disgrace to my family name, it must be said. HE IS A DAMN SEXY PIECE OF ASS! There. I have said it. Even if his voice is so low that it's practically impossible to discern over the sound of Down With The Sickness and Rise Against (Oh yes! We like the same music! Except he doesn't listen to a lot of opera... but oh well. No one I've met besides me and Maya does). And he bought me stuff! HE BOUGHT ME STUFF! This is the best date I've ever been on! I barely needed to restrain my sarcasm, because HE WAS DOING IT TOO! (Making sarcastic remarks, that is.) I'm so happy... La la la. ♪ To celebrate, I'm going to sleep until about four tomorrow. Probably because it's about four right now. That could have something to do with it, could it not? Perhaps. Oh dang. I stay up waaaaay too late girlfriend. But then again, Kitty and Zac are up too. What is this, the cohort of insomniacs or something? Probably.
Jade was happy about my newfound loverboy too.
AH HOT SHIT! Don't tell me I'm going to turn into one of those semen spewing psychopaths who never miss a chance to make a plug about their wonderful man! And by never, I mean NEVER. They would advertise his ass at your grandmother's funeral. PLEASE no. Oh yes, Jade is one. She is also dating a fifteen year old. ANd she is eighteen. But it's ok, because they "love" each other. Have I mentioned that he's fifteen? And that they have only met online, have never talked, and have never seen anything more than "real" pictures? And that they have cybersex? ANd that occasionally SHE initiates it? Oh flipping wallaby diapers, she's fucking desperate. I am positive that he is a fifty year old man in actuality. And she tries to lecture me? Seriously! Can you spell hypocrite? She has, it seems, been misspelling her name on all her papers. I hope the professors don't decide to take points off for that.
Nine Inch Nails, man, Nine Inch Nails.
Gotta love them.
Austin does.
SHIT, brain, SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Really now. We can't have you sounding like a brain impaired junior high school student (or anyone currently in Jersey Shore for that matter).
Or Sonia.
Honestly, she still likes JTJ! Really ridiculous. I can't believe that she's so serious about him. He's just a normal guy! He wears pants like everybody else! Although if he didn't, I'm not sure that would send him up in her esteem with a noticeable prejudice. She seems to be a modest, not-wanting-in-the-sack-on-the-first-date kind of gal. Isn't there a name for that? Ah yes. SHIPOOPI. You know, for the longest time, I never realized that was from an actual musical. I always thought it was an original from Seth McFarlane and his Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy, but there you go. Just goes to show how much I know.
I would swallow my pride
I would choke on the rinds
But the lack thereof would leave me empty inside
I would swallow my doubt
Turn it inside out
Find nothing but faith in nothing
I would put my tender
Heart in a blender
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion
Rendezvous, then I'm through with you....
I sure do have eclectic taste in music. Eve 6? Really? I've gone soft. Maybe I should dig up that old German slaughtering tribe band again? I may have missed their charm the first time. After all, chants about sodomy and necrophilia have a way of creating a negative first impression, but they would probably grow on you if you indulged in them a bit more.
Same with Cannibal Corpse. I may have found his apparent mental instability a bit unnerving at first, but if I really took the time to listen to such deceptively tender love songs such as Hammer Smashed Face and Make Them Suffer, I'm sure I could really learn to see the genius in the process, not to mention the execution.
It's all just a matter of acclimation, really.
Now whomever so reads this in the future will think that I'm a raving sociopath who listens to death metal all day. That is... not true. Not. True. I also listen to nihilistic metal.
But at any rate, I'm not as depraved as those who would wantonly listen to Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana, so I suppose whatever I do is in the clear.
I kind of want to go outside now. Like, go out and ride around the streets like the vampire child that I am. Except it's too cold. That's the only problem.
SHIT.
I'm just going to pretend that's it's NOT 3:30 in the morning right now, because this story is amusing and also centered on me and a cute boy and therefore needs to be told in extremity. So.
Yesterday I was staying up until all hours texting people, as per normal. (Btw, Sonia seems to think that I'm her personal psychologist or something. She has been texting me with very depressing and emo statements for the last several days, and also asking my opinion on the SAME DAMN SUBJECT for about the same duration. Sexy shit, what am I, a problem dump? I have feelings TOO! GOSH! *storms out*) Anyway... where was I? Ah, yes. So I was also texting Austin, because that is always amusing. He asked me what I was doing today (oh, how subtle-not), and when I said probably watching Glee and eating leftover chocolate cake, he said, and I quote, "u should slip some hang with Austin in there =)". So I said sure, and then today he came driving up in his red sports car and picked me up. We went to Gourmet Pizza. He bought mine! Hell yes! Not spending money is something I approve of vastly. After that, we walked around the city for awhile, and then got boba. He bought that for me too. Um, can I say total TURN-ON? There's nothing sexier than a guy who won't make you buy your own food. At any rate, he's actually a pretty interesting person (for a white guy). He actually understood what I said and didn't gawp like a goldfish with head trauma every time I used a word with more than two syllables, which is really a plus (Cough*Justin*cough). He is even not a conservative prick, and doesn't want to go to an Adventist college! And I can even be myself around him (ish), and by that I mean not worrying if I accidentally let fly a few f-bombs or so. And get this! He opened the door for me! OPENED THE FRIGGIN DOOR! Even the car door! I can't believe it! He was very chivalrous! Yet he didn't stare at my boobs or my ass, ask my bra size, suggest a game of truth-or-striptease, make jokes about my personal anatomy or the inferior mental condition of the feminine sex, or ask me what I would do if we happened to be stuck together in a small and very sexually charged room, so I cannot but help feeling that he doesn't like me. Oh well. He texted me tonight saying that he had had fun and thanks and we should go out again (!!!!!!) and also that I was "really damn cute". SHIT! This guy is either the most playing player or he's bored out of his friggin mind! I've NEVER seen a guy be that intelligible before! He only misspelled about 1% of his words! And he is... well, I gotta say it. Even if I am a disgrace to my family name, it must be said. HE IS A DAMN SEXY PIECE OF ASS! There. I have said it. Even if his voice is so low that it's practically impossible to discern over the sound of Down With The Sickness and Rise Against (Oh yes! We like the same music! Except he doesn't listen to a lot of opera... but oh well. No one I've met besides me and Maya does). And he bought me stuff! HE BOUGHT ME STUFF! This is the best date I've ever been on! I barely needed to restrain my sarcasm, because HE WAS DOING IT TOO! (Making sarcastic remarks, that is.) I'm so happy... La la la. ♪ To celebrate, I'm going to sleep until about four tomorrow. Probably because it's about four right now. That could have something to do with it, could it not? Perhaps. Oh dang. I stay up waaaaay too late girlfriend. But then again, Kitty and Zac are up too. What is this, the cohort of insomniacs or something? Probably.
Jade was happy about my newfound loverboy too.
AH HOT SHIT! Don't tell me I'm going to turn into one of those semen spewing psychopaths who never miss a chance to make a plug about their wonderful man! And by never, I mean NEVER. They would advertise his ass at your grandmother's funeral. PLEASE no. Oh yes, Jade is one. She is also dating a fifteen year old. ANd she is eighteen. But it's ok, because they "love" each other. Have I mentioned that he's fifteen? And that they have only met online, have never talked, and have never seen anything more than "real" pictures? And that they have cybersex? ANd that occasionally SHE initiates it? Oh flipping wallaby diapers, she's fucking desperate. I am positive that he is a fifty year old man in actuality. And she tries to lecture me? Seriously! Can you spell hypocrite? She has, it seems, been misspelling her name on all her papers. I hope the professors don't decide to take points off for that.
Nine Inch Nails, man, Nine Inch Nails.
Gotta love them.
Austin does.
SHIT, brain, SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Really now. We can't have you sounding like a brain impaired junior high school student (or anyone currently in Jersey Shore for that matter).
Or Sonia.
Honestly, she still likes JTJ! Really ridiculous. I can't believe that she's so serious about him. He's just a normal guy! He wears pants like everybody else! Although if he didn't, I'm not sure that would send him up in her esteem with a noticeable prejudice. She seems to be a modest, not-wanting-in-the-sack-on-the-first-date kind of gal. Isn't there a name for that? Ah yes. SHIPOOPI. You know, for the longest time, I never realized that was from an actual musical. I always thought it was an original from Seth McFarlane and his Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy, but there you go. Just goes to show how much I know.
I would swallow my pride
I would choke on the rinds
But the lack thereof would leave me empty inside
I would swallow my doubt
Turn it inside out
Find nothing but faith in nothing
I would put my tender
Heart in a blender
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion
Rendezvous, then I'm through with you....
I sure do have eclectic taste in music. Eve 6? Really? I've gone soft. Maybe I should dig up that old German slaughtering tribe band again? I may have missed their charm the first time. After all, chants about sodomy and necrophilia have a way of creating a negative first impression, but they would probably grow on you if you indulged in them a bit more.
Same with Cannibal Corpse. I may have found his apparent mental instability a bit unnerving at first, but if I really took the time to listen to such deceptively tender love songs such as Hammer Smashed Face and Make Them Suffer, I'm sure I could really learn to see the genius in the process, not to mention the execution.
It's all just a matter of acclimation, really.
Now whomever so reads this in the future will think that I'm a raving sociopath who listens to death metal all day. That is... not true. Not. True. I also listen to nihilistic metal.
But at any rate, I'm not as depraved as those who would wantonly listen to Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana, so I suppose whatever I do is in the clear.
I kind of want to go outside now. Like, go out and ride around the streets like the vampire child that I am. Except it's too cold. That's the only problem.
SHIT.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Rain ♥
It's so dark in here that I can hardly see the keyboard. And it's only 3:07! This is cause for rejoicing. (I'm a vampire, so I neither love nor need the light.)
It's raining again. This is a happy-making thing that makes me, er, happy...
Oh shit, whatever. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
So this "morning", I came downstairs, bright and early at 2:15 to eat some breakfast. I thought I'd partake of the food that I so kindly absconded with yesterday after the never-ending cantata, but some fool had eaten it all! I mean, really, how rude. I go to all the trouble of sneaking away with it (and let me tell you, it was no easy feat) and then what happens? It disappears down the gullet of some ravenous relative! Honestly.
I want to go shopping. I need to buy presents for my friends, or at least a few of them, and I want to take more photobooth pictures. I don't have enough. I want to make a collage out of pictures (of me, naturally) and put it into the front of my binder so that I can stare at something when Mr. Annoying English Teacher is droning on and on and staring at me so I can't draw (he seems to think it's a crime against humanity for a girl to engage in some harmless amusement during the idle hours of third period or something). So I, as you see, need to go take some pictures. Allie, Sophia, Lia, and several others all want to go with me. So does KiKi. *SNICKER* That child needs a lot more than a shopping trip, believe ME... Actually, she's not really a child, is she. She's eighteen. And she has been eighteen for some time. Is it not odd that she is still in high school? And that she does not know how to write a three paragraph essay? And that I have seen kindergarteners with better writing than her? It is. And her drawings! Oh my, it is hilarious to see the airs she puts on about them. She has decided to start up a manga magazine. This is a lovely idea in theory, but when all the characters of said manga look like retarded dinosaurs, it is perhaps best to start in on a new vocation (such as maybe learning what calculus is). Even worse, she has recruited Kitty and me to help her out. I was happy at first to do this, because I do like to draw, and though no Tokyopop would ever hire me for my talent, I do have to admit that one can at least tell what I'm trying to depict 99% of the time. But then KiKi decided that I wasn't good enough for her, and gave away my promised spot in the magazine to some "girl" she met online. I believe that this person is actually a fifty year old man, but there you have it. I am, as we all know, rather pessimistic. I don't care THAT much, but it is rather annoying, especially when she starts complaining that I never do anything.Tell that to the voluminous tomes that I have made out of the hardworkingness of my own procrastination. Oh! And her smelly brother who STILL likes me? He does NOTHING! LESS than nothing! He does NEGATIVE effort! So she needn't be touting Kitty's and my indolence as a source of damnation! Sexy shit. This chick.
If she IS a chick. She has the most enormous amount of pubic hair that I have ever seen.
And I know this because she decided to change in front of me.
Bless my soul, I don't know how I survived that day.
...HOT PATOOTIE, BLESS MY SOUL! I REALLY LOVE THAT ROCK AND ROLL!
Rocky Horror Show ftw. ♥
So I think I'm going to actually do my studying ahead of time during this break. On Thanksgiving break, I was up until four on Sunday desperately trying to finish my assignments ere broke the dawn. I had a lot too. EVERYONE assigned something, even choir. We had to write concert reports. Ugh. So THIS time, I'm going to do EVERYTHING! And then I can play for the rest of the break! Or study, more likely. Actually, I don't even have anything except AP Euro. And in that, I just have to read and do some IDs. Which should be extremely easy. Oh happy joyful day of joyous happiness....
I'm going to go take a picture of the persimmon tree in the rain. It looks bomb. And by bomb, I mean like a set off of some emo movie about depression in a time of sadness. Lovely! ♥
It's raining again. This is a happy-making thing that makes me, er, happy...
Oh shit, whatever. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
So this "morning", I came downstairs, bright and early at 2:15 to eat some breakfast. I thought I'd partake of the food that I so kindly absconded with yesterday after the never-ending cantata, but some fool had eaten it all! I mean, really, how rude. I go to all the trouble of sneaking away with it (and let me tell you, it was no easy feat) and then what happens? It disappears down the gullet of some ravenous relative! Honestly.
I want to go shopping. I need to buy presents for my friends, or at least a few of them, and I want to take more photobooth pictures. I don't have enough. I want to make a collage out of pictures (of me, naturally) and put it into the front of my binder so that I can stare at something when Mr. Annoying English Teacher is droning on and on and staring at me so I can't draw (he seems to think it's a crime against humanity for a girl to engage in some harmless amusement during the idle hours of third period or something). So I, as you see, need to go take some pictures. Allie, Sophia, Lia, and several others all want to go with me. So does KiKi. *SNICKER* That child needs a lot more than a shopping trip, believe ME... Actually, she's not really a child, is she. She's eighteen. And she has been eighteen for some time. Is it not odd that she is still in high school? And that she does not know how to write a three paragraph essay? And that I have seen kindergarteners with better writing than her? It is. And her drawings! Oh my, it is hilarious to see the airs she puts on about them. She has decided to start up a manga magazine. This is a lovely idea in theory, but when all the characters of said manga look like retarded dinosaurs, it is perhaps best to start in on a new vocation (such as maybe learning what calculus is). Even worse, she has recruited Kitty and me to help her out. I was happy at first to do this, because I do like to draw, and though no Tokyopop would ever hire me for my talent, I do have to admit that one can at least tell what I'm trying to depict 99% of the time. But then KiKi decided that I wasn't good enough for her, and gave away my promised spot in the magazine to some "girl" she met online. I believe that this person is actually a fifty year old man, but there you have it. I am, as we all know, rather pessimistic. I don't care THAT much, but it is rather annoying, especially when she starts complaining that I never do anything.Tell that to the voluminous tomes that I have made out of the hardworkingness of my own procrastination. Oh! And her smelly brother who STILL likes me? He does NOTHING! LESS than nothing! He does NEGATIVE effort! So she needn't be touting Kitty's and my indolence as a source of damnation! Sexy shit. This chick.
If she IS a chick. She has the most enormous amount of pubic hair that I have ever seen.
And I know this because she decided to change in front of me.
Bless my soul, I don't know how I survived that day.
...HOT PATOOTIE, BLESS MY SOUL! I REALLY LOVE THAT ROCK AND ROLL!
Rocky Horror Show ftw. ♥
So I think I'm going to actually do my studying ahead of time during this break. On Thanksgiving break, I was up until four on Sunday desperately trying to finish my assignments ere broke the dawn. I had a lot too. EVERYONE assigned something, even choir. We had to write concert reports. Ugh. So THIS time, I'm going to do EVERYTHING! And then I can play for the rest of the break! Or study, more likely. Actually, I don't even have anything except AP Euro. And in that, I just have to read and do some IDs. Which should be extremely easy. Oh happy joyful day of joyous happiness....
I'm going to go take a picture of the persimmon tree in the rain. It looks bomb. And by bomb, I mean like a set off of some emo movie about depression in a time of sadness. Lovely! ♥
Ffffff-
Oh FML, I'm so stupid, I think I should go die! I have a 2.98 because I didn't study because I'm too smart for the classes that I'm taking! But my life is terrible anyway! And therefore you guys all should have terrible lives too! Wait! What's that? You're not interested in hearing me say the same whiny thing for the seventh consecutive time? I HATE YOU! HOW DARE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! Ooohh, FML....
Just shut the eff up, Zac. Enough of your pediatric puling. We're not in fifth grade anymore, so please desist with your attempts at manliness. Being rough and tough and confrontational does not make you a "bro", it makes you a dickpad. And no one wants a dickpad around except walking vaginas. And I don't think you'd enjoy hanging out with a walking vagina very much. They tend to have assholes for neighbors.
Oh, what a pleasant and lovely family we have. The dad hates any and every sound, except for the sound of his own voice. He also apparently hates us. The mom is so self sacrificing that it is sad. The older brother is a whiny, bratty, smartassed college student who thinks that he is the shiznit of the earth (and is the shiznit of the town). The sister is a sharp tongued little artist who looks like a model and never stops complaining about how fat she is. The youngest brother is a brat as well, a hyper, snappish, internet addicted child who looks at least three years younger than he actually is. And me? Stupid, fat, and ugly, and convinced that I'm a genius because I manage to ace my honor classes with minimal to no effort, and possessed of a hypocritical and evil personality that never really manifests itself because I always act like an anime character. Wonderful. We are of the most perfect genetic material ever. We should become the templates for a new generation.
Dear me. Now we are all discussing the most effective ways of killing someone. Personally, I think criminals on death row should just be locked up with Dad for awhile and they will emerge as detritivore fodder. The efficacy of a discourse on demons, plastics, crop circles, and mass brainwashing is unparalleled.
So.... I'm on winter break now... It's amazing. Although somewhat lonely. I miss everyone already. Oh, how sad, I sound like a farmer. Wait, what? Oh my....
Singer songwriter, hmm? How smart do you have to be to do that? Songs are ridiculously easy to make, and you can have a voice like a sieve (i.e none) and still be famous, i.e Lady GaGa and Justin Beiber. (No, Bieber? Or is it Beiber? Dammit, these Canadian people...) Oh well. I think I will make a song now. It will be lovely and beautiful. It will be.... it will be one of my favorite WTF songs!
Indeed! This one is called Rose Of Decay. (Isn't that a sexy name?)
Fading, falling, death on death
Lying on the snow
Living like a flower
A million years ago
In the moonlight fading
In the dark lit sun
Wishes pay it nothing
Till everything is done
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Bleeding with diamonds
Gashes of gold
Treasures that everyone
Would die to behold
Richer than a king
Darker than a tomb
Festering bony fingers
Sweep a gilded room
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Reach for tomorrow
Stretch out your hand
Hear the angel calling for you
Heed the sharp command
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend!
Ohhh, I am a fucking genius. That song is soooo morbid! I am a veritable Orpheus. (Hopefully more intelligent though. And female.) Unless I am a hermaphrodite. Could that be? I have the hairiest upper lip known to man. I have to pluck the sides of it so as not to appear to be role-playing as King Kong. Pluck it! Is that not ridiculous? Maybe I should go in for one of those surgeries where they remove your hair follicles. But then what would happen if some evil villain kidnapped me and would only set me free if I donated the hair follicles in my upper lip? I wouldn't have any! And so I'd be screwed. That would be terrible! I think maybe it's better to keep my money, er, I mean nobly withdraw my petition for vanity in favor of some other unfortunate and let the hairs grow free and wild. They are, after all, just as much a part of me as my feet, and I don't go around plucking off my feet, do I? But that may have something to do with the fact that upper lip hairs manifest themselves again and again and feet typically do not, unless you are one of those salamanders or something. Er, no, salamanders regenerate their tails. Well, something like that. I never claimed to be a naturalist.
I was forced to attend the world's longest orchestra rehearsal today. Sort of an orchestra, at any rate. It consisted of (besides my family and myself) two rather talentless violinists, a bored looking cello, and about fifteen saxophones.
Oh, lovely, I must needs go.
Farewell.
Just shut the eff up, Zac. Enough of your pediatric puling. We're not in fifth grade anymore, so please desist with your attempts at manliness. Being rough and tough and confrontational does not make you a "bro", it makes you a dickpad. And no one wants a dickpad around except walking vaginas. And I don't think you'd enjoy hanging out with a walking vagina very much. They tend to have assholes for neighbors.
Oh, what a pleasant and lovely family we have. The dad hates any and every sound, except for the sound of his own voice. He also apparently hates us. The mom is so self sacrificing that it is sad. The older brother is a whiny, bratty, smartassed college student who thinks that he is the shiznit of the earth (and is the shiznit of the town). The sister is a sharp tongued little artist who looks like a model and never stops complaining about how fat she is. The youngest brother is a brat as well, a hyper, snappish, internet addicted child who looks at least three years younger than he actually is. And me? Stupid, fat, and ugly, and convinced that I'm a genius because I manage to ace my honor classes with minimal to no effort, and possessed of a hypocritical and evil personality that never really manifests itself because I always act like an anime character. Wonderful. We are of the most perfect genetic material ever. We should become the templates for a new generation.
Dear me. Now we are all discussing the most effective ways of killing someone. Personally, I think criminals on death row should just be locked up with Dad for awhile and they will emerge as detritivore fodder. The efficacy of a discourse on demons, plastics, crop circles, and mass brainwashing is unparalleled.
So.... I'm on winter break now... It's amazing. Although somewhat lonely. I miss everyone already. Oh, how sad, I sound like a farmer. Wait, what? Oh my....
Singer songwriter, hmm? How smart do you have to be to do that? Songs are ridiculously easy to make, and you can have a voice like a sieve (i.e none) and still be famous, i.e Lady GaGa and Justin Beiber. (No, Bieber? Or is it Beiber? Dammit, these Canadian people...) Oh well. I think I will make a song now. It will be lovely and beautiful. It will be.... it will be one of my favorite WTF songs!
Indeed! This one is called Rose Of Decay. (Isn't that a sexy name?)
Fading, falling, death on death
Lying on the snow
Living like a flower
A million years ago
In the moonlight fading
In the dark lit sun
Wishes pay it nothing
Till everything is done
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Bleeding with diamonds
Gashes of gold
Treasures that everyone
Would die to behold
Richer than a king
Darker than a tomb
Festering bony fingers
Sweep a gilded room
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Reach for tomorrow
Stretch out your hand
Hear the angel calling for you
Heed the sharp command
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend!
Ohhh, I am a fucking genius. That song is soooo morbid! I am a veritable Orpheus. (Hopefully more intelligent though. And female.) Unless I am a hermaphrodite. Could that be? I have the hairiest upper lip known to man. I have to pluck the sides of it so as not to appear to be role-playing as King Kong. Pluck it! Is that not ridiculous? Maybe I should go in for one of those surgeries where they remove your hair follicles. But then what would happen if some evil villain kidnapped me and would only set me free if I donated the hair follicles in my upper lip? I wouldn't have any! And so I'd be screwed. That would be terrible! I think maybe it's better to keep my money, er, I mean nobly withdraw my petition for vanity in favor of some other unfortunate and let the hairs grow free and wild. They are, after all, just as much a part of me as my feet, and I don't go around plucking off my feet, do I? But that may have something to do with the fact that upper lip hairs manifest themselves again and again and feet typically do not, unless you are one of those salamanders or something. Er, no, salamanders regenerate their tails. Well, something like that. I never claimed to be a naturalist.
I was forced to attend the world's longest orchestra rehearsal today. Sort of an orchestra, at any rate. It consisted of (besides my family and myself) two rather talentless violinists, a bored looking cello, and about fifteen saxophones.
Oh, lovely, I must needs go.
Farewell.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Of Rice and Men (HA see what I did there?)
I got the new My Chemical Romance album. ♥
Hot Topic is t3h aw3some!!!1!!1 liek omg!
Ok.
So right now Zac is freaking out because he doesn't have a 4.0 in college right now. This is because he never tries at anything and still expects it to come settle down on his transcript like a fairy of kindness and hope. Gee, I wonder why... I have problems with math and therefore have a 3.9 but do you hear me complaining? Oh. Problems. Math. Ha, I am a veritable genius of puns and witticisms. I should become a night show host.
Some creepy chick just called Zac on his phone. Twice. I wonder what could be going on here? Maybe it's something like in The Ring where you have to call the person before they die or something. Oh, wait... that's not The Ring.... that's something else entirely. Oh well. That then.
I sincerely hope it's not that.
Today at church KiKi decided to have some more emo moments. Damn annoying. I wonder if she thinks it's attractive or something. Perhaps she secretly believes in her heart of hearts (as opposed to her heart of livers and her heart of stem cells) that she can best me at the depressed-evil-pissed-at-life-and-your-face look and therefore should do it as much as humanly possible. If this is the case, she is sadly mistaken, for no one can best me at that look. No one. Not even the queen of depression-nefariousness-angry-at-life-and-thy-countenance land herself (if there is indeed such a land)(and if there is, I want to go there). It is really quite ridiculous to imagine that a sweet, righteous, clean-cut, Christian, like herself could possibly emulate and best a malevolent, evil, dirty hoe like me. (The fact that I too profess to be a Christian has little or no bearing on the case, for, as we all know, a person's soul is but the inner trappings of a truly kind and conservatively dressed human being.) But then again, she is superior to me in all regards, so perhaps the competition is not as stacked as I at first presumed it to be.
Dammit, I need to get laid.
Right now I'm supposed to be writing my paper on school prayer. It's fucking annoying. It's not like he's even going to read it. All I need to do is slap some well-formatted parenthetical citation in there and write in a header and I'm guaranteed a perfect score. However, my classmates seem to have not found this out yet, judging from the grades on the wall. It is really quite appalling. If it were this hard to get an A in English, most college professors would be out of a job. And if this is supposed to be an honor's class, I really would be curious to see the regular ones. The essays must be rather amusing. Even Bonnie can't seem to get a 9, so how could Twitty McFuckFace ever hope to compete? Not to toot my own horn (ooh la la!), but nines really just grow on trees. A few strategically placed "evince"s and "therefore"s will get you further than a two page outline. Outlining is embarrassingly useless anyway. NOT that it would matter, because our teacher doesn't even READ THE FUCKING ESSAYS!! Sexy shit. And I thought LAST year's English class was bad.
Anyway. I went to Homecoming with Nathan. It was interesting. He bought a ticket for me, kindly, but then deigned to skimp on ten dollars. Maybe he was wondering if I would notice. At any rate, I got my ticket mostly free of charge, and the money I did pay wasn't even mine to begin with, so it was fine. I got a dress at some cheapo discount place because everything else was closed. I was happy though. The second I came out of the changing room, Sonia, Kitty, and Mom all went "YESS!!" So I got it. It was way too girly for me, but whatever. It's homecoming, right? It was red silk, knee length, with a big bow on one shoulder and nothing on the other. (It was one-strap. Ya feels me?) It also had this very flattering waist with a nice tight sash on the back. I got these HOT silver flats that were actually open-toed and had a shiny diamond-type thing on the side, a silver clutch purse, and a silver bracelet made out of a ball chain. I put a red ribbon around my head and left my hair loose and THEN left off most of my makeup. I got so many compliments it was really ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't wear so much makeup every day? Nah. I need to. Anyway, Nathan got me a corsage, and we went out to eat. We are both so sarcastic that the conversation really got nowhere with regard to self discovery (and all that crap) and besides I don't like anyone to know anything about me anyway. It was hella fun though! So then we went and picked up Sonia, and we all went in. There was karaoke, so of course I went there and sang with a lot of my friends. Soooo fun! (And when fifteen of us belted out Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with hand motions and interpretive dance, it was downright inspirational!) One amusing incident also occurred. I decided to sing I'm With You by myself, so I went up and started singing it. I was having the time of my young life, when up walked Justin The Juicy. (Damn that boy is FINE!) I turned a bit idiotic and began putting a lot of feeling into it, and apparently JTJ liked that aspect, because he casually and nonchalantly walked over to a nearby pillar and positioned himself behind it, looking for all the world like a James Bond impersonator. He crossed his arms and legs (one over the other, still standing, although if he had sat down it would have been even more amusing) and proceeded to stand with an affected pose of blase for the duration of my song. He probably would have lit a cigarette, but it was against the rules. When I had finished singing, he skulked off again amid the applause of the obviously tipsy onlookers. (Who else but a drunkard would applaud my voice?) (Although the results were even more dramatic with I Will Always Love You. I didn't know the tune and improvised a great deal, but I did get the high notes as I am a true first soprano (toot toot horn) and therefore apparently was impressive. Nathan wouldn't shut up about it until I started talking about football. You see how desperate I became.) Oh, those memories... I had the time of my life! The only fly in my ointment was that Sonia still loved JTJ at that point, and was sad because he was there. I asked Nathan if he could induce JTJ to hang out with us, but was met with disappointment because apparently JTJ was with "some random girl". SEXY FUCK! That ass! How dare he! You see what a kind and caring friend I am. It is not just because I wanted to hang out with him too. Not at all. I am more sympathetic to a cause of broken heartedness than that.
Nathan appeared to be moonstruck. Over me, too. How fucking weird.
We do still talk now, which is quite good, but I want someone to make a move on me. I'm flirting with a lot of guys, but no one will DO anything CONCLUSIVE which is really obnoxious because it's almost the end of first semester and I haven't had a boyfriend yet this year! I'm a loser. I know. There must be something really wrong with me.
Not enough cleavage perhaps.
I have been more modest (ish) this year, which is really surprising. I thought for sure I'd continue my reputation, but I'm apparently falling down on the job. Which is also depressing. I need to get some more low shirts.
Ugh, thanksgiving break is almost over..... How annoying. Although everything is kind of annoying at this point. At least I'll get to see everyone.... I only saw Sonia and Allie through the whole week. Fail. I have become a recluse of reclusiveness. Oh, Jade did come over a couple times, and we went shopping, but she's practically part of the family now... so I'm still a recluse of reclusiveness. How sad for me. Maybe I can write some Poe-etry. HA I am so full of amusement, punnishness and witticism.
...I think we have established this earlier in the entry.
Maybe I should go to bed... It's too late to be up like this. Actually, no it's not, but it's raining (RAINING BLOOOOD!) and I want to actually snuggle up in a warm bed with rain for more than three hours. (Not to say the rain is in my bed, but merely... eh, forget it. Ignorance is bliss.) Oh.... that previous Slayer reference made me look kind of psychotic didn't it.... My apologies.
But now... I'm scared to go to bed! The Ring, man! The fucking Ring! Or else Saw, because that isn't exactly lovely for sweet dreams either. DAMMIT! This happens to me all the time! Once I decided to browse for some new music on Youtube (as you do). I found this song called She's Dead by some screwy band or other. Oh, ok, I thought. This looks interesting! So I clicked on it, and immediately was inundated with beautiful imagery of the lyrical masterpiece. "She's deeeeeeaaaadddd..." wailed the lead singer, obviously in some kind of physical torment or other. "I crushed her head," added one of the backup singers cheerfully. Then they started chanting in German. I mean, please! If you're going to be inconsiderate enough to start singing about ritual sacrifice, at LEAST have the common courtesy to do it in a language that we can all understand! Although probably that was a blessing in disguise because the lyrics appeared to translate to an orgy of blood and sodomization. (sodomize? Yeah?) Not that this would bother me, but when they started getting hot and heavy with the corpse I decided to close the window and listen to some nice, inoffensive Anthrax. However, that night I couldn't sleep for fear of one of these noble men coming into the window and getting themselves some new subject matter at my expense. Eventually I just crept downstairs and finished my homework. But anyway! This whole thing about going to bed early is nice and all but it just doesn't work when you are convinced that there is a rabid pack of flesh eating ax murderers lodged in your closet and Justin Beiber is under your bed! It is an "armchair theory". I am sure that I will never be a respectable hermit.
Not when there are German slaughtering tribes in the music industry anyway.
Hot Topic is t3h aw3some!!!1!!1 liek omg!
Ok.
So right now Zac is freaking out because he doesn't have a 4.0 in college right now. This is because he never tries at anything and still expects it to come settle down on his transcript like a fairy of kindness and hope. Gee, I wonder why... I have problems with math and therefore have a 3.9 but do you hear me complaining? Oh. Problems. Math. Ha, I am a veritable genius of puns and witticisms. I should become a night show host.
Some creepy chick just called Zac on his phone. Twice. I wonder what could be going on here? Maybe it's something like in The Ring where you have to call the person before they die or something. Oh, wait... that's not The Ring.... that's something else entirely. Oh well. That then.
I sincerely hope it's not that.
Today at church KiKi decided to have some more emo moments. Damn annoying. I wonder if she thinks it's attractive or something. Perhaps she secretly believes in her heart of hearts (as opposed to her heart of livers and her heart of stem cells) that she can best me at the depressed-evil-pissed-at-life-and-your-face look and therefore should do it as much as humanly possible. If this is the case, she is sadly mistaken, for no one can best me at that look. No one. Not even the queen of depression-nefariousness-angry-at-life-and-thy-countenance land herself (if there is indeed such a land)(and if there is, I want to go there). It is really quite ridiculous to imagine that a sweet, righteous, clean-cut, Christian, like herself could possibly emulate and best a malevolent, evil, dirty hoe like me. (The fact that I too profess to be a Christian has little or no bearing on the case, for, as we all know, a person's soul is but the inner trappings of a truly kind and conservatively dressed human being.) But then again, she is superior to me in all regards, so perhaps the competition is not as stacked as I at first presumed it to be.
Dammit, I need to get laid.
Right now I'm supposed to be writing my paper on school prayer. It's fucking annoying. It's not like he's even going to read it. All I need to do is slap some well-formatted parenthetical citation in there and write in a header and I'm guaranteed a perfect score. However, my classmates seem to have not found this out yet, judging from the grades on the wall. It is really quite appalling. If it were this hard to get an A in English, most college professors would be out of a job. And if this is supposed to be an honor's class, I really would be curious to see the regular ones. The essays must be rather amusing. Even Bonnie can't seem to get a 9, so how could Twitty McFuckFace ever hope to compete? Not to toot my own horn (ooh la la!), but nines really just grow on trees. A few strategically placed "evince"s and "therefore"s will get you further than a two page outline. Outlining is embarrassingly useless anyway. NOT that it would matter, because our teacher doesn't even READ THE FUCKING ESSAYS!! Sexy shit. And I thought LAST year's English class was bad.
Anyway. I went to Homecoming with Nathan. It was interesting. He bought a ticket for me, kindly, but then deigned to skimp on ten dollars. Maybe he was wondering if I would notice. At any rate, I got my ticket mostly free of charge, and the money I did pay wasn't even mine to begin with, so it was fine. I got a dress at some cheapo discount place because everything else was closed. I was happy though. The second I came out of the changing room, Sonia, Kitty, and Mom all went "YESS!!" So I got it. It was way too girly for me, but whatever. It's homecoming, right? It was red silk, knee length, with a big bow on one shoulder and nothing on the other. (It was one-strap. Ya feels me?) It also had this very flattering waist with a nice tight sash on the back. I got these HOT silver flats that were actually open-toed and had a shiny diamond-type thing on the side, a silver clutch purse, and a silver bracelet made out of a ball chain. I put a red ribbon around my head and left my hair loose and THEN left off most of my makeup. I got so many compliments it was really ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't wear so much makeup every day? Nah. I need to. Anyway, Nathan got me a corsage, and we went out to eat. We are both so sarcastic that the conversation really got nowhere with regard to self discovery (and all that crap) and besides I don't like anyone to know anything about me anyway. It was hella fun though! So then we went and picked up Sonia, and we all went in. There was karaoke, so of course I went there and sang with a lot of my friends. Soooo fun! (And when fifteen of us belted out Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with hand motions and interpretive dance, it was downright inspirational!) One amusing incident also occurred. I decided to sing I'm With You by myself, so I went up and started singing it. I was having the time of my young life, when up walked Justin The Juicy. (Damn that boy is FINE!) I turned a bit idiotic and began putting a lot of feeling into it, and apparently JTJ liked that aspect, because he casually and nonchalantly walked over to a nearby pillar and positioned himself behind it, looking for all the world like a James Bond impersonator. He crossed his arms and legs (one over the other, still standing, although if he had sat down it would have been even more amusing) and proceeded to stand with an affected pose of blase for the duration of my song. He probably would have lit a cigarette, but it was against the rules. When I had finished singing, he skulked off again amid the applause of the obviously tipsy onlookers. (Who else but a drunkard would applaud my voice?) (Although the results were even more dramatic with I Will Always Love You. I didn't know the tune and improvised a great deal, but I did get the high notes as I am a true first soprano (toot toot horn) and therefore apparently was impressive. Nathan wouldn't shut up about it until I started talking about football. You see how desperate I became.) Oh, those memories... I had the time of my life! The only fly in my ointment was that Sonia still loved JTJ at that point, and was sad because he was there. I asked Nathan if he could induce JTJ to hang out with us, but was met with disappointment because apparently JTJ was with "some random girl". SEXY FUCK! That ass! How dare he! You see what a kind and caring friend I am. It is not just because I wanted to hang out with him too. Not at all. I am more sympathetic to a cause of broken heartedness than that.
Nathan appeared to be moonstruck. Over me, too. How fucking weird.
We do still talk now, which is quite good, but I want someone to make a move on me. I'm flirting with a lot of guys, but no one will DO anything CONCLUSIVE which is really obnoxious because it's almost the end of first semester and I haven't had a boyfriend yet this year! I'm a loser. I know. There must be something really wrong with me.
Not enough cleavage perhaps.
I have been more modest (ish) this year, which is really surprising. I thought for sure I'd continue my reputation, but I'm apparently falling down on the job. Which is also depressing. I need to get some more low shirts.
Ugh, thanksgiving break is almost over..... How annoying. Although everything is kind of annoying at this point. At least I'll get to see everyone.... I only saw Sonia and Allie through the whole week. Fail. I have become a recluse of reclusiveness. Oh, Jade did come over a couple times, and we went shopping, but she's practically part of the family now... so I'm still a recluse of reclusiveness. How sad for me. Maybe I can write some Poe-etry. HA I am so full of amusement, punnishness and witticism.
...I think we have established this earlier in the entry.
Maybe I should go to bed... It's too late to be up like this. Actually, no it's not, but it's raining (RAINING BLOOOOD!) and I want to actually snuggle up in a warm bed with rain for more than three hours. (Not to say the rain is in my bed, but merely... eh, forget it. Ignorance is bliss.) Oh.... that previous Slayer reference made me look kind of psychotic didn't it.... My apologies.
But now... I'm scared to go to bed! The Ring, man! The fucking Ring! Or else Saw, because that isn't exactly lovely for sweet dreams either. DAMMIT! This happens to me all the time! Once I decided to browse for some new music on Youtube (as you do). I found this song called She's Dead by some screwy band or other. Oh, ok, I thought. This looks interesting! So I clicked on it, and immediately was inundated with beautiful imagery of the lyrical masterpiece. "She's deeeeeeaaaadddd..." wailed the lead singer, obviously in some kind of physical torment or other. "I crushed her head," added one of the backup singers cheerfully. Then they started chanting in German. I mean, please! If you're going to be inconsiderate enough to start singing about ritual sacrifice, at LEAST have the common courtesy to do it in a language that we can all understand! Although probably that was a blessing in disguise because the lyrics appeared to translate to an orgy of blood and sodomization. (sodomize? Yeah?) Not that this would bother me, but when they started getting hot and heavy with the corpse I decided to close the window and listen to some nice, inoffensive Anthrax. However, that night I couldn't sleep for fear of one of these noble men coming into the window and getting themselves some new subject matter at my expense. Eventually I just crept downstairs and finished my homework. But anyway! This whole thing about going to bed early is nice and all but it just doesn't work when you are convinced that there is a rabid pack of flesh eating ax murderers lodged in your closet and Justin Beiber is under your bed! It is an "armchair theory". I am sure that I will never be a respectable hermit.
Not when there are German slaughtering tribes in the music industry anyway.
Friday, July 30, 2010
how to make me supremely happy
This.
http://www.mychemicalromance.com/product/le-fleur-sketch-book
I WANT ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I REALLY REALLY WANT ITTTT!!!!
Also this.
http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/DarkStreet/HellBunny/Black-Lace-Corset-261618.jsp
And I am a vampire, after all, so I should have these.
http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/Accessories/Cosmetics/Scarecrow-Deluxe-Vampire-Fangs-279952.jsp
And also I would not object if someone came along and gave me this
http://www.avengedsevenfold.com/albums/nightmare
And this would be perfect for me as well
http://shanalogic.com/item.php?item_id=2737&category_id=186
Sexy shit, man.... I need more money.
http://www.mychemicalromance.com/product/le-fleur-sketch-book
I WANT ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I REALLY REALLY WANT ITTTT!!!!
Also this.
http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/DarkStreet/HellBunny/Black-Lace-Corset-261618.jsp
And I am a vampire, after all, so I should have these.
http://www.hottopic.com/hottopic/Accessories/Cosmetics/Scarecrow-Deluxe-Vampire-Fangs-279952.jsp
And also I would not object if someone came along and gave me this
http://www.avengedsevenfold.com/albums/nightmare
And this would be perfect for me as well
http://shanalogic.com/item.php?item_id=2737&category_id=186
Sexy shit, man.... I need more money.
Monday, July 26, 2010
some of my fave-o-rite things♫ (sung sarcastically)
Damn. I haven't written in too long. Oh well.
To better get a feeling of the atmosphere of this thing, I looked at the first entry, and lo and behold, came a list of my favorite and least favorite things. FREAKIN HILARIOUS. You should see them. SOOOOOOOO preppy and home schooler-ish that it IS funny. Here is the authentic list, faithfully reproduced, cut, and pasted from entry one.
For my favorites... Hmm, let's see.
Season: summer (but I like all of them)
Singer: Avril Lavigne, Katy Perry, Chris Brown, Super Junior, etc. (everyone)
Song: Pocketful of sunshine
Color: pink
Cosmetic: lip gloss (It's poppin!)
Animal: all of them (except the scary ones!)
Food: anything sweet, or else roasted chestnuts or sushi
Outfit: uh, I kinda have a lot, but maybe a short skirt, boots and a cute top, or else jeans and my pink Papaya or Miss Me shirt, chains in the pocko, purse, gloss, the works.
Perfume: anything fruity or floral (mostly). I love Mariah Carey's new one!
Drink: boba milk tea, duh!
Possession: mostly all of them.
Car: Lexus, Ferrarri, BMW, or Porsche, but it had better be pink!
Subject: Ohhhhhh, please don't ask me this one. I'd have to say Computer...
Book: any manga (mostly)
Type of person: A boy, naturally! Kidding! Ok, just a person, who's not creepy and who's nice.
Type of boy: Cute, sweet, funny, Asian (although my other crush is white as a sheet...) smooth, fairly popular, encouraging, and loves me a lot!
Game: Hearts, or maybe Poker.
Song on the top ten: Live Your Life (or Hot N Cold if its still on there)
Now my least favorites!
Season: don't have one
Singer: Lil Wayne
Song: Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolph feat. Lil Wayne
Color: navy blue/black
Car: Ford Prius/PT Loser (cruiser)/3-by-4
Animal: Dunno. Something icky and scary.
Food: Fish/oatmeal/cheese/eggs/oily beef tamales straight from the can
Cosmetic: Blush (I don't need it, as I blush enough for five of me)
Outfit: frumpy
Possession: dunno
Perfume: This sickly sweet, ickly, stickly perfume my mom has. EW!
Drink: Beer
Book: fantasy
Subject: Most of em, but mostly math.
Tyoe of person: mean, awkward, smelly, evil, dominating, thinks they're graet, crude, boorish, and ONE THAT CHEWS GROSSLY!!!!
Type of boy: See above. Or, for other example, check out Heartless by Kanye West. Ol' Kanye feelin a bit jerky...
Game: Thrift Shop, a game my brother Zac invented. (It sucks)
Song on the top ten: Heartless (although I do like it a bit)
IS THAT NOT HILARIOUS? DO YOU NOT SEE THE UNAPPEALING CHILDISHNESS OF IT ALL? Let me now write my own list. You will see in what ways I deviate from my ancient platitudes.
Favorite stuffs:
Season: winter
Singer: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCEEEEEE also Nightwish, Bullet For My Valentine, Avenged Sevenfold, Rise Against, Xandria, Mindless Self Indulgence, Death, Evanescence, and many more.
Song: Blood by MCR
Color: Black. Also red and purple.
Cosmetic: scarlet lipstick and black eyeliner. And my foundation that makes me look even paler than I am.
Animal: Yeeeeaahhh.... I like animals. All of them. *muttered in embarassment*
Food: I don't like eating cause it makes me feel fat, but I guess sweets and strawberries.
Outfit: My black pleated skirt, black bell sleeve lace up top, knee high black stockings, black flats, my black leather studded purse, black eyeliner (winged out of course), red lipstick, my bracelets, my choker from Hot Topic, and a black bow in my hair.
Perfume: This mysterious, spicy one my grandma gave my dad to give to me.
Drink: Coffee.
Possession: My iPod, bracelets, makeup, and all my notebooks/drawings. And my money, of course. (I was catologing this before going to sleep last night.... how strange.)
Car: Sleek and black.
Subject: CHOIR. Also AP Euro. Though I have taken neither yet.
Book: Dream Of The Red Chamber.
Type of person: WTFH? Umm, someone who will put up with me, I guess.... o.0
Type of boy: Smart enough to keep up with me, funny enough to appreciate me, hot enough to captivate me, and stupid enough to love me.
Game: Messing with people.
Song on the top ten: I have no freakin idea what's on the top ten. Pop and hip hop are for vapid, banal, mindless, mainstream, idiotic automatons.
Least Favorites:
Season: I don't really have one... life is meaningless no matter what weather is going on outside.
Singer: Miley Cyrus/Justin Bieber/Lady GaGa/Any pop singer. But especially those three.
Song: Uggggh I have so freakin many. Party In The USA by Miley Cyrus?
Color: Pink
Car: No freakin idea.
Animal: Vagina crabs.
Food: Anything lipidacious. Also fish. And cock.
Cosmetic: Don't have one. Makeup is good for the soul.
Outfit: Anything pink, preppy, sporty, conservative, or obviously intended to be worn by Grandma Betty.
Possession: I have many. For I am a snob.
Perfume: B.O
Drink: Semen.
Book: These horrible meant-for-teenagers-but-highly-improbable-I-know-what-you're-going-through-no-you-actually-don't books about depression, anorexia, cutting, abuse, and a legion of other things books that my mom gets out for me because she thinks they will help my "condition".
Subject: ...I don't have one. Except for the one that S-hole is currently in my class with me in and better than me at. (But as I am perfectly capable of keeping up with him in everything, and even surpassing him in other things, this does not exist.)
Type of person: Domineering, egotistical, totalitarian, autocratic, chauvinistic, misogynist, stupid, awkward, conniving, selfish, pompous, pedantic, and lazy, with a lack of control and habit of blaming everything on those who should have no blame on them placed. I.e a true man.
Type of boy: JK mixed with Jason mixed with Roger (not really though) mixed with Kris. (my last bf, who I shall rant of in more detail someday.)
Game: Life.
Song Again, I have no clue what is on the top ten. My least favorite song on the Rock Top 40 is Lay Me Down by Weezer, however. (Although I do like it some, so again, I fear I am afflicted with indecision.)
There. I have listed my current and past favorites and least favorites. Do with them as thou wilt.
xxxxxx 愛
To better get a feeling of the atmosphere of this thing, I looked at the first entry, and lo and behold, came a list of my favorite and least favorite things. FREAKIN HILARIOUS. You should see them. SOOOOOOOO preppy and home schooler-ish that it IS funny. Here is the authentic list, faithfully reproduced, cut, and pasted from entry one.
For my favorites... Hmm, let's see.
Season: summer (but I like all of them)
Singer: Avril Lavigne, Katy Perry, Chris Brown, Super Junior, etc. (everyone)
Song: Pocketful of sunshine
Color: pink
Cosmetic: lip gloss (It's poppin!)
Animal: all of them (except the scary ones!)
Food: anything sweet, or else roasted chestnuts or sushi
Outfit: uh, I kinda have a lot, but maybe a short skirt, boots and a cute top, or else jeans and my pink Papaya or Miss Me shirt, chains in the pocko, purse, gloss, the works.
Perfume: anything fruity or floral (mostly). I love Mariah Carey's new one!
Drink: boba milk tea, duh!
Possession: mostly all of them.
Car: Lexus, Ferrarri, BMW, or Porsche, but it had better be pink!
Subject: Ohhhhhh, please don't ask me this one. I'd have to say Computer...
Book: any manga (mostly)
Type of person: A boy, naturally! Kidding! Ok, just a person, who's not creepy and who's nice.
Type of boy: Cute, sweet, funny, Asian (although my other crush is white as a sheet...) smooth, fairly popular, encouraging, and loves me a lot!
Game: Hearts, or maybe Poker.
Song on the top ten: Live Your Life (or Hot N Cold if its still on there)
Now my least favorites!
Season: don't have one
Singer: Lil Wayne
Song: Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolph feat. Lil Wayne
Color: navy blue/black
Car: Ford Prius/PT Loser (cruiser)/3-by-4
Animal: Dunno. Something icky and scary.
Food: Fish/oatmeal/cheese/eggs/oily beef tamales straight from the can
Cosmetic: Blush (I don't need it, as I blush enough for five of me)
Outfit: frumpy
Possession: dunno
Perfume: This sickly sweet, ickly, stickly perfume my mom has. EW!
Drink: Beer
Book: fantasy
Subject: Most of em, but mostly math.
Tyoe of person: mean, awkward, smelly, evil, dominating, thinks they're graet, crude, boorish, and ONE THAT CHEWS GROSSLY!!!!
Type of boy: See above. Or, for other example, check out Heartless by Kanye West. Ol' Kanye feelin a bit jerky...
Game: Thrift Shop, a game my brother Zac invented. (It sucks)
Song on the top ten: Heartless (although I do like it a bit)
IS THAT NOT HILARIOUS? DO YOU NOT SEE THE UNAPPEALING CHILDISHNESS OF IT ALL? Let me now write my own list. You will see in what ways I deviate from my ancient platitudes.
Favorite stuffs:
Season: winter
Singer: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCEEEEEE also Nightwish, Bullet For My Valentine, Avenged Sevenfold, Rise Against, Xandria, Mindless Self Indulgence, Death, Evanescence, and many more.
Song: Blood by MCR
Color: Black. Also red and purple.
Cosmetic: scarlet lipstick and black eyeliner. And my foundation that makes me look even paler than I am.
Animal: Yeeeeaahhh.... I like animals. All of them. *muttered in embarassment*
Food: I don't like eating cause it makes me feel fat, but I guess sweets and strawberries.
Outfit: My black pleated skirt, black bell sleeve lace up top, knee high black stockings, black flats, my black leather studded purse, black eyeliner (winged out of course), red lipstick, my bracelets, my choker from Hot Topic, and a black bow in my hair.
Perfume: This mysterious, spicy one my grandma gave my dad to give to me.
Drink: Coffee.
Possession: My iPod, bracelets, makeup, and all my notebooks/drawings. And my money, of course. (I was catologing this before going to sleep last night.... how strange.)
Car: Sleek and black.
Subject: CHOIR. Also AP Euro. Though I have taken neither yet.
Book: Dream Of The Red Chamber.
Type of person: WTFH? Umm, someone who will put up with me, I guess.... o.0
Type of boy: Smart enough to keep up with me, funny enough to appreciate me, hot enough to captivate me, and stupid enough to love me.
Game: Messing with people.
Song on the top ten: I have no freakin idea what's on the top ten. Pop and hip hop are for vapid, banal, mindless, mainstream, idiotic automatons.
Least Favorites:
Season: I don't really have one... life is meaningless no matter what weather is going on outside.
Singer: Miley Cyrus/Justin Bieber/Lady GaGa/Any pop singer. But especially those three.
Song: Uggggh I have so freakin many. Party In The USA by Miley Cyrus?
Color: Pink
Car: No freakin idea.
Animal: Vagina crabs.
Food: Anything lipidacious. Also fish. And cock.
Cosmetic: Don't have one. Makeup is good for the soul.
Outfit: Anything pink, preppy, sporty, conservative, or obviously intended to be worn by Grandma Betty.
Possession: I have many. For I am a snob.
Perfume: B.O
Drink: Semen.
Book: These horrible meant-for-teenagers-but-highly-improbable-I-know-what-you're-going-through-no-you-actually-don't books about depression, anorexia, cutting, abuse, and a legion of other things books that my mom gets out for me because she thinks they will help my "condition".
Subject: ...I don't have one. Except for the one that S-hole is currently in my class with me in and better than me at. (But as I am perfectly capable of keeping up with him in everything, and even surpassing him in other things, this does not exist.)
Type of person: Domineering, egotistical, totalitarian, autocratic, chauvinistic, misogynist, stupid, awkward, conniving, selfish, pompous, pedantic, and lazy, with a lack of control and habit of blaming everything on those who should have no blame on them placed. I.e a true man.
Type of boy: JK mixed with Jason mixed with Roger (not really though) mixed with Kris. (my last bf, who I shall rant of in more detail someday.)
Game: Life.
Song Again, I have no clue what is on the top ten. My least favorite song on the Rock Top 40 is Lay Me Down by Weezer, however. (Although I do like it some, so again, I fear I am afflicted with indecision.)
There. I have listed my current and past favorites and least favorites. Do with them as thou wilt.
xxxxxx 愛
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
A Tale Of Two Men (and me)
Damn, I haven't written anything in like foreverrrr........ crap, I sound so plastic. Anyhow, there are three more days of spring break, not counting weekends (during which I will be at the retard-treat for dorkestra, learning many valuable lessons, such as how to embarrass oneself and how to eat greasy and disgusting cafeteria food without throwing up), so I thought that I should update on which things I have been doing deserving an update.
Ok, another thing that we all must learn right now is that diet bars are TINY! They're like the size of Rush Limbaugh's morals! How anyone can get a decent meal out of one of them is anyone's guess. (Of course, I can. But I am not everyone, am I.) Probably the plan of these companies is to make you eat a whole box just for lunch, and then of course you have to go buy more, and because they're "diet bars" you're thinking that you're not actually gaining any weight (which you probably are, as these things are remarkably unhealthful), so the companies get a big wad of dough in their pockets, and you get a big wad of dough under your shirt. Which kind of offsets the whole idea of a diet bar. But who am I to judge the vast companies of The Man?
Did I write that I dumped the fucker? I dk. must now check.
Ok, I didn't. In fact, I hardly said anything about him, really. So now, since I have time in abundance, let me share with you the whole sordid tale.
Sooo..... one fine day, the day after Jason had said he wanted to "just be friends", in fact (Seriously man, JK said that too. Fwahaha. I always manage to catch the conservative ones.), Allie approached me and told me that there was a new man on the horizon for me. Being the kind and sensitive person that I am, I immediately leapt up, grabbed her arm, and hollered, "WHO?!" at the top of my lungs. "It's Roger," she told me, trying to keep a straight face. "Who the heck is Roger?" I asked, puzzled. I had been hoping it would be someone I knew, not someone I didn't know, i.e. a creepy stalker. "Oh, he's in my choir," she said nonchalantly, probably suspecting, and with good reason, that I wanted another man to soothe my ruffled pride, no matter who the soother would be. So I sat around wondering through lunch who this wonderful soother of pride was, and what he was like, and other things. (Like, IS HE CUTE????) I continued to wonder while walking to class, and then continued to wonder during Spanish. (I couldn't get advice on him, though, because in Spanish, my group is made up of 4 or 5 boys who all look upon me as a goddess of wisdom and beauty and who would also probably not know this new man. (As I was to find out, they did know him, because everyone knew him, but that is a tidbit for later consumption.) I continued to wonder during P.e, and played a little worse than usual, much to the annoyance of JK (Who, unfortunately, along with Maddison and her best friend Clarice, is in my class) and his three friends. (Ok, this saga of JK, Maddison, Clarice, and me is too long, drawn out, dramatic, and hilariously karma's-a-bitch-ish to include now. Suffice to say the ones who hate me are the least popular of anyone there, perhaps because they hate me, but I will hedge no bets, or something like that.) Anyway, the next day, Allie came skipping over, arm in arm with a very emo looking, ugly Asian dude. "This is Roger!" she trilled, shoving him forward, so that he landed next to me. "Hi Roger," I said in my best Public voice (i.e sweet, high, substanceless, and stupid), tilting my head and performing an idiotic wave. "Heyy there," said he, in a voice presumably concocted to charm people, but which in reality could charm nothing more than a garbage bag full of hedge clippings and dead bell peppers. "So, what's up?" "Uh, not much, you?" I said reflexively, meanwhile wondering why he wasn't asking my name. Even if he knew it already (which is kinda weird), wouldn't it be polite to ask? Like, for the sake of formality? But, as I was to learn, formality, politeness, and reason did not apply to our Roger. He proceeded to sit with us for two days, during which he seemed to me to be a semi-good person. He was (and I guess still is)...
1. Asian
2. Mixed Asian, like me.
3. Very musical.
4. Very smart. (Although he later told me, with much pride, that he cheats on every quiz, test, or exam the teachers see fit to hand out)
5. Very "sensitive". (So sensitive, in fact, that when anything in the remotest way sarcastic was said to him, he took on a pouty face and then began to act like a douche. Yes, he is just soooooooo sweet and sensitive, is he not?)
6. Very "sweet". (Although his version of sweetness involved calling other people names, and then turning to the object of his misplaced affections and saying something like, "But don't worry, I love you", which didn't really have a way of building people's confidence in his powers of sweetness)
7. Emo. (I LIKE emos, ok? Don't hate! They're like hot!)
8. Very quiet. (Is this a good thing? Maybe it means he is an intellectual.)
9. Very clean-cut. (And by this I mean that he dresses in a wholesome way. Although his clothes are all black (which I approve of), they boast no dripping blood, fangs, skeletons, wings, or anything that could draw him closer to my heart.)
10. Very eloquent. He is the one who taught me that "fuck" could be used in any situation, to describe anything, be it animal, vegetable, mineral, or talk show host.
So these are his ten good points (although the last one was just sarcastic, so maybe nine?) Anyway, I was made well aware of these points of his as time went on. The boy possesses an ego the size of North Dakota.
After the second day, (Actually, it was the third day, but I'd been sick and went home before lunch, merely dragging myself out for two of my honor's classes and skipping English, which, if it is indeed an honor's class, must be aimed for the smartest among those with dementia, schizophrenia, Down's syndrome, or Huntington's disease, no offense meant to any of these diseases or people who have them) he walked me to Spanish, and then said, in a very awkward, shy, and diffidwnt way, "So, uh.... will you go out with me?" "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed my brain. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" screamed my conscience. "NOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed all the echos of my friends' warnings in my memory. "Ok, sure," said my mouth.
During p.e, I took a lot of flak for this decision. "Didn't you, like, not know him?" asked Kokora, looking stunned. "Ummmmm, well, ya know," I explained, making vague had gestures to help move the conversation along. "Did you know that he an I are complete simmering rivals, and bitter enemies?" asked Carissa, probably trying to think of more food-related analogies as she went along. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" I cried, bowing. (Why, I don't know. But whatever.) "Oh, it's ok! I don't mind!" she said, looking rather embarrassed. "But, ummmm.... be careful..." "You're going out with ROGER???!!!" squawked Katherine. "Did you know I used to like him?" she asked later, in a conversational way. "I am SOOOOOO sorry!" I cried, very dismayed. "I am NOT the kind of girl who goes around stealing other people's men! So I can, um, break up with him if you-" "No, I said I USED to like him, fool!" laughed Katherine. "Go out with him, enjoy yourself, have fun!" "Um, thank you!" I said, not really sure what I was thanking her for. "What?" she asked, momentarily discombobulated. "Oh, nothin!" I trilled. "Look, hot guy!"
After this day, the mofo began to be highly possessive, douchey, and nice, all at once. In doing this, he managed to make me feel like a pile of shit, 24/7. It was rather disheartening. On Valentines' day, (or rather, the Friday before it), he wandered into my biology classroom, carrying a basket full of candy, a stuffed animal, and a balloon. And a really cool folded paper flower. And a card. "Uh, I didn't see you during passing period," he muttered, in a rather self-concious way, "So, uh here. Love you." "Um! Uh, th-thank you!" I stuttered, accepting the gift, and trying not to fall over. "Later," he said, and left, just as the whole class, (including the sub) all said in a body, "Awwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!" and began clapping. Even S-hole joined in. In English, next period, S-hole began to be very friendly. "Could you move Roger's present off my desk?" he asked in a genial tone. I was, as you see, giving chocolate to Ella, who didn't want to wait until lunch. I certainly wasn't just sitting on his desk on purpose. (Who would?) "Oh, sorry," I said sarcastically, not sorry at all. "Still, that was pretty funny," he continued, sitting himself down. "Was it?" I asked him coolly. "Cute, but funny." he verified. "I am sure it was," I said, not quite as sarcastically, moving towards my desk. The preps, were, after all watching our interaction with interest. (None of them had valentines, as you see.)
After this day (btw I gave R a song I recorded since it requires almost no effort on my part and seems like it took a lot of work), R began to be so possessive and jerk-ish that it was frankly quite sickening. He frequently made allusions to my stupidity, and hit me in an "affectionate" way a lot. He knew things about me that no one told him (or maybe they did, but the "no one" certainly wasn't me) and used them creepily. He said we used to do tae kwon do together, as does everyone else, but I can't remember a thing. Odd, huh? Maybe he raped me and I'm supressing my memories. But, as it became clear, everyone knew him, be they teacher, Earth science student, or valedictorian. In fact, in our town, he also has quite a presence. I enjoyed celebrity, fame, and complete despair, thanks to my new man.
My friends were all aware of him, and also of my apparent depression, and began to say things like, "Dump him, Jasmine! The guy is hurting you BAD!" and "You, Jasmine, are number 1 on my prayer list." (This was from KiKi, of course) I was very emo, according to everyone.
One day, he heard from someone (apparently someone I know) that I didn't really like him. This was, of course, true, but I didn't want to admit it. Instead, I used one of my best tactics, shame, and told him, "I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks I'm a liar" (over facebook too, how crueeeel) and ignored him. The next day, he told me that he didn't think I was a liar, that he loved me, and that I would give him another chance. Before I could protest to this rather presumptuous claim, he walked off. Then, he acted completely normal, albeit more possessive.
The highlight came on Chinese new year's. We were all at the church, (Chinese church) for the celebration, and suddenly I heard, behind me, "It's YOU!" I turned, and the most wonderful sight met my poor, bedraggled eyes. Mark stood there, with an expression full of unreadable-ness. I had to restrain myself from grabbing him in a big hug and weeping. "What are YOU doin here?" I instead asked. "Did you get a gene transplant, are you trying to spy on people, or are you a really ugly mutant Asian?" "I could ask the same of you... wait, never mind," said he, apparently remembering that I am, in fact, Chinese. We talked for a bit, then had food. As he went past my chair, carrying a heaping plate, I grabbed some tofu off of it, and he willingly let me! KYAH! After this, we went outside to talk. Just as we were remembering a very juicy rememberance involving Thomas, helium, and homeschool graduation, I felt a presence behind me. I turned, slowly, and who did I see? Correct. I saw R, glaring at Mark, and looking like someone had stewed and eaten his pet rabbit without salt, sugar, or bread. "Ah! Hi!" I chirped, feeling as if I had gotten the wind knocked out of me. "Um, please, everyone, meet each other!" The two boys continued to glare at each other with venom, and looked as if they were about to start circling in a sort of violent, pre-battle way. To prevent this, I got between them and started talking inanely about random things. Mark looked pissed. R looked delighted. We walked together into the room with the sofa, and all sat down. R pushed me so that I dropped onto the end of the couch, and couldn't sit next to Mark. Then, he sat down next to me, and started sweet-talkin, about, of all things, Meyer's labs, and how his are so much better than mine. "Probably! Mine are sooo crappy!" I sarcastically agreed, but in such a sweet voice that he suspected not a thing. Mark looked even more pissed. Eventually, we went to watch the lion dance. R wrapped his arms around me, and started rocking side to side. I was obliged to do so as well, as I didn't want to fall down, and we bore the brunt of wrath from many crowded church goers who politely tried to ignore the teenage boat of love, rocking from side to side. After this, I wriggled free and started talking to Mark. R asked hopefully if we were cousins. "I think I'd die if I were related to her," Mark proclaimed, as I punched him the stomach. "I wouldn't just die, I'd spontaneously combust!" I declaimed. R looked severely enraged. After a while, Mom came out, met R, said hi to Mark, (therefore furthering R's annoyance) and suggested we take pictures. "Nooo!'' chorused the boys. "Sure!" I said with enthusiasm. "Fine...." the boys chorused again. We proceeded to take a shitload of pictures. Mom had to drag me off. She later proclaimed what a nice, good looking, musical, and thoroughly awesome person my boyfriend was. Loudly. And many times. It was very embarrassing.
After this night, R became so possessive it was impossible to stand him. He got mad if he saw me even talking to another boy, and also frequently extolled his own virtues. He said how much he likes to flirt with other girls and hold their hands, etc. I was so pissed that I began to be sarcastic in earnest, risking anger from him. Mark, meanwhile, was talking to me like crazy, over text and chat. He was also bombarding me with pleas to break up with "the creeper".
So.... one day, I did. Did it work? No. He told me that it was about what he wanted and I didn't "have to do this". Then, he ignored me and began to talk about himself. FUCKER. So two days later, I went over to him during passing period, and said, "Roger, I'm breaking up with you!" "Whyyyyyy?" he asked in a whine. "Cause I need to be with someone who respects me and is good for me!" I said, trying to gather the last vestiges of my strength. "Okkkkkk," he said, and wandered off. "YOU DID IT!!!" yelled Bonnie and Andrea, who were walking with me. "Yay!" added Diana who was also walking with me. I was very proud.
So was everyone else. In fact, I became a celebrity. Especially in my p.e class. Quite fun. Although now, I'm probably known as The Girl Who Broke Up With Roger. Which is bad. But oh well. I feel so free.... Tiana said he was crying all day. I feel bad. Like, very bad. It's all my fault.... yeesh, he deserves it. Yes.
So, that is my story of The Fucker. It was very dramatic and alarming, was it not? It was. But now I want more drama in my life..... should I go after Mark and get rejected? Nyah. THAT would be fun.
May I say in conclusion, There was never a tale/more fucked up than/This of Jasmine/And all her men.
Ok, another thing that we all must learn right now is that diet bars are TINY! They're like the size of Rush Limbaugh's morals! How anyone can get a decent meal out of one of them is anyone's guess. (Of course, I can. But I am not everyone, am I.) Probably the plan of these companies is to make you eat a whole box just for lunch, and then of course you have to go buy more, and because they're "diet bars" you're thinking that you're not actually gaining any weight (which you probably are, as these things are remarkably unhealthful), so the companies get a big wad of dough in their pockets, and you get a big wad of dough under your shirt. Which kind of offsets the whole idea of a diet bar. But who am I to judge the vast companies of The Man?
Did I write that I dumped the fucker? I dk. must now check.
Ok, I didn't. In fact, I hardly said anything about him, really. So now, since I have time in abundance, let me share with you the whole sordid tale.
Sooo..... one fine day, the day after Jason had said he wanted to "just be friends", in fact (Seriously man, JK said that too. Fwahaha. I always manage to catch the conservative ones.), Allie approached me and told me that there was a new man on the horizon for me. Being the kind and sensitive person that I am, I immediately leapt up, grabbed her arm, and hollered, "WHO?!" at the top of my lungs. "It's Roger," she told me, trying to keep a straight face. "Who the heck is Roger?" I asked, puzzled. I had been hoping it would be someone I knew, not someone I didn't know, i.e. a creepy stalker. "Oh, he's in my choir," she said nonchalantly, probably suspecting, and with good reason, that I wanted another man to soothe my ruffled pride, no matter who the soother would be. So I sat around wondering through lunch who this wonderful soother of pride was, and what he was like, and other things. (Like, IS HE CUTE????) I continued to wonder while walking to class, and then continued to wonder during Spanish. (I couldn't get advice on him, though, because in Spanish, my group is made up of 4 or 5 boys who all look upon me as a goddess of wisdom and beauty and who would also probably not know this new man. (As I was to find out, they did know him, because everyone knew him, but that is a tidbit for later consumption.) I continued to wonder during P.e, and played a little worse than usual, much to the annoyance of JK (Who, unfortunately, along with Maddison and her best friend Clarice, is in my class) and his three friends. (Ok, this saga of JK, Maddison, Clarice, and me is too long, drawn out, dramatic, and hilariously karma's-a-bitch-ish to include now. Suffice to say the ones who hate me are the least popular of anyone there, perhaps because they hate me, but I will hedge no bets, or something like that.) Anyway, the next day, Allie came skipping over, arm in arm with a very emo looking, ugly Asian dude. "This is Roger!" she trilled, shoving him forward, so that he landed next to me. "Hi Roger," I said in my best Public voice (i.e sweet, high, substanceless, and stupid), tilting my head and performing an idiotic wave. "Heyy there," said he, in a voice presumably concocted to charm people, but which in reality could charm nothing more than a garbage bag full of hedge clippings and dead bell peppers. "So, what's up?" "Uh, not much, you?" I said reflexively, meanwhile wondering why he wasn't asking my name. Even if he knew it already (which is kinda weird), wouldn't it be polite to ask? Like, for the sake of formality? But, as I was to learn, formality, politeness, and reason did not apply to our Roger. He proceeded to sit with us for two days, during which he seemed to me to be a semi-good person. He was (and I guess still is)...
1. Asian
2. Mixed Asian, like me.
3. Very musical.
4. Very smart. (Although he later told me, with much pride, that he cheats on every quiz, test, or exam the teachers see fit to hand out)
5. Very "sensitive". (So sensitive, in fact, that when anything in the remotest way sarcastic was said to him, he took on a pouty face and then began to act like a douche. Yes, he is just soooooooo sweet and sensitive, is he not?)
6. Very "sweet". (Although his version of sweetness involved calling other people names, and then turning to the object of his misplaced affections and saying something like, "But don't worry, I love you", which didn't really have a way of building people's confidence in his powers of sweetness)
7. Emo. (I LIKE emos, ok? Don't hate! They're like hot!)
8. Very quiet. (Is this a good thing? Maybe it means he is an intellectual.)
9. Very clean-cut. (And by this I mean that he dresses in a wholesome way. Although his clothes are all black (which I approve of), they boast no dripping blood, fangs, skeletons, wings, or anything that could draw him closer to my heart.)
10. Very eloquent. He is the one who taught me that "fuck" could be used in any situation, to describe anything, be it animal, vegetable, mineral, or talk show host.
So these are his ten good points (although the last one was just sarcastic, so maybe nine?) Anyway, I was made well aware of these points of his as time went on. The boy possesses an ego the size of North Dakota.
After the second day, (Actually, it was the third day, but I'd been sick and went home before lunch, merely dragging myself out for two of my honor's classes and skipping English, which, if it is indeed an honor's class, must be aimed for the smartest among those with dementia, schizophrenia, Down's syndrome, or Huntington's disease, no offense meant to any of these diseases or people who have them) he walked me to Spanish, and then said, in a very awkward, shy, and diffidwnt way, "So, uh.... will you go out with me?" "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed my brain. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" screamed my conscience. "NOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed all the echos of my friends' warnings in my memory. "Ok, sure," said my mouth.
During p.e, I took a lot of flak for this decision. "Didn't you, like, not know him?" asked Kokora, looking stunned. "Ummmmm, well, ya know," I explained, making vague had gestures to help move the conversation along. "Did you know that he an I are complete simmering rivals, and bitter enemies?" asked Carissa, probably trying to think of more food-related analogies as she went along. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" I cried, bowing. (Why, I don't know. But whatever.) "Oh, it's ok! I don't mind!" she said, looking rather embarrassed. "But, ummmm.... be careful..." "You're going out with ROGER???!!!" squawked Katherine. "Did you know I used to like him?" she asked later, in a conversational way. "I am SOOOOOO sorry!" I cried, very dismayed. "I am NOT the kind of girl who goes around stealing other people's men! So I can, um, break up with him if you-" "No, I said I USED to like him, fool!" laughed Katherine. "Go out with him, enjoy yourself, have fun!" "Um, thank you!" I said, not really sure what I was thanking her for. "What?" she asked, momentarily discombobulated. "Oh, nothin!" I trilled. "Look, hot guy!"
After this day, the mofo began to be highly possessive, douchey, and nice, all at once. In doing this, he managed to make me feel like a pile of shit, 24/7. It was rather disheartening. On Valentines' day, (or rather, the Friday before it), he wandered into my biology classroom, carrying a basket full of candy, a stuffed animal, and a balloon. And a really cool folded paper flower. And a card. "Uh, I didn't see you during passing period," he muttered, in a rather self-concious way, "So, uh here. Love you." "Um! Uh, th-thank you!" I stuttered, accepting the gift, and trying not to fall over. "Later," he said, and left, just as the whole class, (including the sub) all said in a body, "Awwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!" and began clapping. Even S-hole joined in. In English, next period, S-hole began to be very friendly. "Could you move Roger's present off my desk?" he asked in a genial tone. I was, as you see, giving chocolate to Ella, who didn't want to wait until lunch. I certainly wasn't just sitting on his desk on purpose. (Who would?) "Oh, sorry," I said sarcastically, not sorry at all. "Still, that was pretty funny," he continued, sitting himself down. "Was it?" I asked him coolly. "Cute, but funny." he verified. "I am sure it was," I said, not quite as sarcastically, moving towards my desk. The preps, were, after all watching our interaction with interest. (None of them had valentines, as you see.)
After this day (btw I gave R a song I recorded since it requires almost no effort on my part and seems like it took a lot of work), R began to be so possessive and jerk-ish that it was frankly quite sickening. He frequently made allusions to my stupidity, and hit me in an "affectionate" way a lot. He knew things about me that no one told him (or maybe they did, but the "no one" certainly wasn't me) and used them creepily. He said we used to do tae kwon do together, as does everyone else, but I can't remember a thing. Odd, huh? Maybe he raped me and I'm supressing my memories. But, as it became clear, everyone knew him, be they teacher, Earth science student, or valedictorian. In fact, in our town, he also has quite a presence. I enjoyed celebrity, fame, and complete despair, thanks to my new man.
My friends were all aware of him, and also of my apparent depression, and began to say things like, "Dump him, Jasmine! The guy is hurting you BAD!" and "You, Jasmine, are number 1 on my prayer list." (This was from KiKi, of course) I was very emo, according to everyone.
One day, he heard from someone (apparently someone I know) that I didn't really like him. This was, of course, true, but I didn't want to admit it. Instead, I used one of my best tactics, shame, and told him, "I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks I'm a liar" (over facebook too, how crueeeel) and ignored him. The next day, he told me that he didn't think I was a liar, that he loved me, and that I would give him another chance. Before I could protest to this rather presumptuous claim, he walked off. Then, he acted completely normal, albeit more possessive.
The highlight came on Chinese new year's. We were all at the church, (Chinese church) for the celebration, and suddenly I heard, behind me, "It's YOU!" I turned, and the most wonderful sight met my poor, bedraggled eyes. Mark stood there, with an expression full of unreadable-ness. I had to restrain myself from grabbing him in a big hug and weeping. "What are YOU doin here?" I instead asked. "Did you get a gene transplant, are you trying to spy on people, or are you a really ugly mutant Asian?" "I could ask the same of you... wait, never mind," said he, apparently remembering that I am, in fact, Chinese. We talked for a bit, then had food. As he went past my chair, carrying a heaping plate, I grabbed some tofu off of it, and he willingly let me! KYAH! After this, we went outside to talk. Just as we were remembering a very juicy rememberance involving Thomas, helium, and homeschool graduation, I felt a presence behind me. I turned, slowly, and who did I see? Correct. I saw R, glaring at Mark, and looking like someone had stewed and eaten his pet rabbit without salt, sugar, or bread. "Ah! Hi!" I chirped, feeling as if I had gotten the wind knocked out of me. "Um, please, everyone, meet each other!" The two boys continued to glare at each other with venom, and looked as if they were about to start circling in a sort of violent, pre-battle way. To prevent this, I got between them and started talking inanely about random things. Mark looked pissed. R looked delighted. We walked together into the room with the sofa, and all sat down. R pushed me so that I dropped onto the end of the couch, and couldn't sit next to Mark. Then, he sat down next to me, and started sweet-talkin, about, of all things, Meyer's labs, and how his are so much better than mine. "Probably! Mine are sooo crappy!" I sarcastically agreed, but in such a sweet voice that he suspected not a thing. Mark looked even more pissed. Eventually, we went to watch the lion dance. R wrapped his arms around me, and started rocking side to side. I was obliged to do so as well, as I didn't want to fall down, and we bore the brunt of wrath from many crowded church goers who politely tried to ignore the teenage boat of love, rocking from side to side. After this, I wriggled free and started talking to Mark. R asked hopefully if we were cousins. "I think I'd die if I were related to her," Mark proclaimed, as I punched him the stomach. "I wouldn't just die, I'd spontaneously combust!" I declaimed. R looked severely enraged. After a while, Mom came out, met R, said hi to Mark, (therefore furthering R's annoyance) and suggested we take pictures. "Nooo!'' chorused the boys. "Sure!" I said with enthusiasm. "Fine...." the boys chorused again. We proceeded to take a shitload of pictures. Mom had to drag me off. She later proclaimed what a nice, good looking, musical, and thoroughly awesome person my boyfriend was. Loudly. And many times. It was very embarrassing.
After this night, R became so possessive it was impossible to stand him. He got mad if he saw me even talking to another boy, and also frequently extolled his own virtues. He said how much he likes to flirt with other girls and hold their hands, etc. I was so pissed that I began to be sarcastic in earnest, risking anger from him. Mark, meanwhile, was talking to me like crazy, over text and chat. He was also bombarding me with pleas to break up with "the creeper".
So.... one day, I did. Did it work? No. He told me that it was about what he wanted and I didn't "have to do this". Then, he ignored me and began to talk about himself. FUCKER. So two days later, I went over to him during passing period, and said, "Roger, I'm breaking up with you!" "Whyyyyyy?" he asked in a whine. "Cause I need to be with someone who respects me and is good for me!" I said, trying to gather the last vestiges of my strength. "Okkkkkk," he said, and wandered off. "YOU DID IT!!!" yelled Bonnie and Andrea, who were walking with me. "Yay!" added Diana who was also walking with me. I was very proud.
So was everyone else. In fact, I became a celebrity. Especially in my p.e class. Quite fun. Although now, I'm probably known as The Girl Who Broke Up With Roger. Which is bad. But oh well. I feel so free.... Tiana said he was crying all day. I feel bad. Like, very bad. It's all my fault.... yeesh, he deserves it. Yes.
So, that is my story of The Fucker. It was very dramatic and alarming, was it not? It was. But now I want more drama in my life..... should I go after Mark and get rejected? Nyah. THAT would be fun.
May I say in conclusion, There was never a tale/more fucked up than/This of Jasmine/And all her men.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
r is a mofo!
DUUDEEEE, fucking Roger is a JERK!!! I hate his ugly guts (and his dick for that matter)!!! If he decided to go move to Seattle and change his name to Johannes Müyer, I would be quite all right with that. If he decided to go move to Seattle and change his name to Johannes Müyer and never contact me ever again, I would be even more all right with that.
Do you understand what I am trying to say with all my glorious and impeccable intent of language? (Not that that really made sense)
Yes?
All right, shall I start at the lovely beginning of this totally tragic-ass tale? Yes, I will. Shut up, brain.
Ok, so I was walking to the p.e yard (or whatever the heck it's supposed to be called) during 6th period (oh yeah! My schedule changed! I like it a lot!) Anyway, so I was there and I was with Roger. He was all pissy because he'd seen me walking with Chanz, and that was SO not acceptable. I mean, I can't even be in a two mile radius of any person of the male persuasion (rather hard to manage when I am on a campus halfway populated by men) but HE can flirt with any girl (or guy) he happens to choose a fancy to! It's because he's a man. MEN are all so SUPERIOR aren't they? Anyhow, then Carissa (the nerdy innocent supermodelish looking girl who for reasons unknown to all, is in love with S-hole) came walking up. I was saved! So I enthusiastically started to talk to her, remembering too late that C and R hate each other with a deep and fiery hatred. But he actually laughed at something she said. AMAZEMENT!! Anyhow, then she wandered off to talk to Kokora, and I started to talk to Jade, who came over. Here is an actual and unretouched segment of the conversation:
J: You're so quiet, Jasmine! TALK
Me: Haaa.... I'm tired....
J: You're only a freshman! I'm a senior!
Me: Yeah, but seniors don't DO anything!
J: Haha, you will! With all your AP and honor's classes...
Me: Yup! Yay! Tee hee! (or some other suitably empty headed response)
R: Oh, I'M not going to take any AP classes!
Me: (thinking) Oh yes, because everything pertains to you. (Saying) Oh, really? Why?
R: Ehh, I just don't want to.
Me: Oh, ok! Tee hee!
J: Hey, Jasmine, you'll be smarter!
R: Ha. Just this once.
J: She's smart in her own way!
R: Yes... in her... own way... (deep, protective hug)
Me: What's that supposed to mean?
R: You are... intelligible.
Me: And by that, you mean....?
R: (presumably thinking that I don't know the meaning of the word intelligible) Oh, I can, er understand... and stuff...
J: There's your teacher. Gotta go!
Me: Bye! ^^
R: (mumbling) Smarter. Heh. As if.
Me: Oh, I need to go.
R: Ok, bye. (long deep hug and smacky slobbery kiss on cheek)
Me: .......!!!!!!!!
SO NOW DO YOU SEE!???? In the locker room, I was fuming! You could practically see the steam coming out of my head! I called him a jerkshit, a cumwad, a fucktart, and several other nasty names, much to the discomfort of Carissa, who never even says the word "butt". Kokora was laughing and watching as I punched holes in the locker doors. (Ok, not really, but practically) I finished changing, and walked outside with K and C, still ranting. I had just mentioned that whenever I was with him it felt like someone was punching me in the stomach, repeatedly, while holding a very sharp metal hammer, when I became aware of an icy cold glare directed my way. (Yes, Mira and her soccer team were there, but no, that is not of whom I speak) (although they too, were not looking pleased at my arrival) Yes! It was true! R stood at the gym door, looking pissed as prune pudding! "Like, he sits in front of me in math, right?" I quickly recovered myself. "So when I have to SEE him each day, it's TORTURE! He knows EVERY formula!" R still looked suspicious, but backed away. I felt very proud of my prowess. K and Ç just looked puzzled. Then, as we had a substitute, we proceeded to walk around the basketball courts and talk about matters of great importance. "You need to break up with him, ASAP," said C with a concerned expression. "He's really bad for you, Jasmine!" "I don't care," I said, already gaining back my cheerful happy-happy-joy-joy schoolgirl act. "No, he's really going to damage your self respect," she continued. I have it on good authority that I have no self respect, so I just shrugged. "He's a parasite to you!" she finished, with a lawyer-like expression, and I realized that I was about to get a lecture. And so I did. The main points being 1. I should break up with him, and 2. I should really be a more self-respecting person. (I wonder where that came from...) I was tired of this, so for the rest of the period, K and I instructed C on the different workings of sex. She is SOOOOO innocent! When I mentioned handcuffs, she just about had a fit, and when K told her that doggie-style is bad for your ass, (which it SO is, I mean wouldn't it be like taking a giant shit while someone tells you that he's enjoying how his dick fits so nicely in that convenient hole?) she had a blank look on her face like "what the
shit gtg quiz 2morro ewwww -.-
Do you understand what I am trying to say with all my glorious and impeccable intent of language? (Not that that really made sense)
Yes?
All right, shall I start at the lovely beginning of this totally tragic-ass tale? Yes, I will. Shut up, brain.
Ok, so I was walking to the p.e yard (or whatever the heck it's supposed to be called) during 6th period (oh yeah! My schedule changed! I like it a lot!) Anyway, so I was there and I was with Roger. He was all pissy because he'd seen me walking with Chanz, and that was SO not acceptable. I mean, I can't even be in a two mile radius of any person of the male persuasion (rather hard to manage when I am on a campus halfway populated by men) but HE can flirt with any girl (or guy) he happens to choose a fancy to! It's because he's a man. MEN are all so SUPERIOR aren't they? Anyhow, then Carissa (the nerdy innocent supermodelish looking girl who for reasons unknown to all, is in love with S-hole) came walking up. I was saved! So I enthusiastically started to talk to her, remembering too late that C and R hate each other with a deep and fiery hatred. But he actually laughed at something she said. AMAZEMENT!! Anyhow, then she wandered off to talk to Kokora, and I started to talk to Jade, who came over. Here is an actual and unretouched segment of the conversation:
J: You're so quiet, Jasmine! TALK
Me: Haaa.... I'm tired....
J: You're only a freshman! I'm a senior!
Me: Yeah, but seniors don't DO anything!
J: Haha, you will! With all your AP and honor's classes...
Me: Yup! Yay! Tee hee! (or some other suitably empty headed response)
R: Oh, I'M not going to take any AP classes!
Me: (thinking) Oh yes, because everything pertains to you. (Saying) Oh, really? Why?
R: Ehh, I just don't want to.
Me: Oh, ok! Tee hee!
J: Hey, Jasmine, you'll be smarter!
R: Ha. Just this once.
J: She's smart in her own way!
R: Yes... in her... own way... (deep, protective hug)
Me: What's that supposed to mean?
R: You are... intelligible.
Me: And by that, you mean....?
R: (presumably thinking that I don't know the meaning of the word intelligible) Oh, I can, er understand... and stuff...
J: There's your teacher. Gotta go!
Me: Bye! ^^
R: (mumbling) Smarter. Heh. As if.
Me: Oh, I need to go.
R: Ok, bye. (long deep hug and smacky slobbery kiss on cheek)
Me: .......!!!!!!!!
SO NOW DO YOU SEE!???? In the locker room, I was fuming! You could practically see the steam coming out of my head! I called him a jerkshit, a cumwad, a fucktart, and several other nasty names, much to the discomfort of Carissa, who never even says the word "butt". Kokora was laughing and watching as I punched holes in the locker doors. (Ok, not really, but practically) I finished changing, and walked outside with K and C, still ranting. I had just mentioned that whenever I was with him it felt like someone was punching me in the stomach, repeatedly, while holding a very sharp metal hammer, when I became aware of an icy cold glare directed my way. (Yes, Mira and her soccer team were there, but no, that is not of whom I speak) (although they too, were not looking pleased at my arrival) Yes! It was true! R stood at the gym door, looking pissed as prune pudding! "Like, he sits in front of me in math, right?" I quickly recovered myself. "So when I have to SEE him each day, it's TORTURE! He knows EVERY formula!" R still looked suspicious, but backed away. I felt very proud of my prowess. K and Ç just looked puzzled. Then, as we had a substitute, we proceeded to walk around the basketball courts and talk about matters of great importance. "You need to break up with him, ASAP," said C with a concerned expression. "He's really bad for you, Jasmine!" "I don't care," I said, already gaining back my cheerful happy-happy-joy-joy schoolgirl act. "No, he's really going to damage your self respect," she continued. I have it on good authority that I have no self respect, so I just shrugged. "He's a parasite to you!" she finished, with a lawyer-like expression, and I realized that I was about to get a lecture. And so I did. The main points being 1. I should break up with him, and 2. I should really be a more self-respecting person. (I wonder where that came from...) I was tired of this, so for the rest of the period, K and I instructed C on the different workings of sex. She is SOOOOO innocent! When I mentioned handcuffs, she just about had a fit, and when K told her that doggie-style is bad for your ass, (which it SO is, I mean wouldn't it be like taking a giant shit while someone tells you that he's enjoying how his dick fits so nicely in that convenient hole?) she had a blank look on her face like "what the
shit gtg quiz 2morro ewwww -.-
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
i am now filled with a fiery and furious rage
Oh, hell no.
Jason dumped me and my new boyfriend is a DOUCHE!!!!!!!!
UGHHHHH!
FMLLLLLLLLLL!
Why meeeeeeeee?
Stooopid cumshizzle!
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!
Also, I must think of a suitably subtle and still deliciously malicious way to get back at a certain puffed up penis-ball who thinks he's the shit.
I.E LITTLE FANCYPANTS FINGER FUCKER!!!! CONYO!!!!
And, even though I have apologized to her for being stupid butterballs' girlfriend and maaaayyyybe mentioning it to everyone in the locker room, Miss I'm-Too-Good-For-The-Likes-Of-Poo Maddison stilll hates me! DAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMIT!
And now, I have to go get dressed for shtupid ckc. I shall return later to continue my rant.
Jason dumped me and my new boyfriend is a DOUCHE!!!!!!!!
UGHHHHH!
FMLLLLLLLLLL!
Why meeeeeeeee?
Stooopid cumshizzle!
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!
Also, I must think of a suitably subtle and still deliciously malicious way to get back at a certain puffed up penis-ball who thinks he's the shit.
I.E LITTLE FANCYPANTS FINGER FUCKER!!!! CONYO!!!!
And, even though I have apologized to her for being stupid butterballs' girlfriend and maaaayyyybe mentioning it to everyone in the locker room, Miss I'm-Too-Good-For-The-Likes-Of-Poo Maddison stilll hates me! DAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMIT!
And now, I have to go get dressed for shtupid ckc. I shall return later to continue my rant.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
first post of 2010~
It's the last day before my birthday, so I thought I should probably say something.
So....
It's been kind of a long break. Also, kind of a pain. I'm so bored... I don't see how I managed to be home schooled for so long and not die of unnatural and completely avoidable causes. (The causes being lack of social contact, and abject and total boredom)
So now, I just realized that I sound and act like a typical public school girl. (Hey, if you take the L out of "public" you'll get...?) (Listen, I'm still 14. I have only one day to finish up making immature sex jokes!) But.. where was I? Oh yeah. Ok. So I sound and act like a typical high school girl, when just a few months ago I was as individualistic as Lady Gaga's red carpet wardrobe. (Or was I...?) But the point is that I have completely been changed and that's PROBABLY not a good thing. Why shouldn't it be, though? Cause I'm just me... and people really do evolve out of change! (And that's NOT what I meant, to all of you conservative, stick-up-your-ass people like my dad. I meant that people become who they are through a period of change and development and that if no one developed it would be rather a problem. Not that we all came from fish, monkeys, worms, George Bush, and whatever other prehistoric animals you can think of.) (No disrespect meant to George Bush, of course. I'm sure he was quite popular back in his day. He could cook up quite a primordial soup, or so I've heard.) So there.)
So why is it a problem that I've changed? And I'm still and individual, too. If you think I'm going to turn into someone like Mira, you are greatly mistaken. For one thing, I don't think I would look very good blond. For another thing, her fashion sense is HORRIBLE and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing 99/100's of the things she wears. Also, she doesn't really wear makeup, and she NEVER experiments with her hair, and I'm still too klutzy to play soccer or volleyball or whatever completely plastic sport she chooses to pass her time with. (I think it's soccer. Yes, I'm pretty sure it's soccer. She keeps talking about it. Loudly. And no, it's not that I want to listen, it's because she imposes all of her white soccer gal-ness into the atmosphere so that one can't help but listen. Also, that her voice is as loud as hell. But that's another story.) AND her personality is to die for. (And by this, I mean that if anyone else had it, they would die of embarrassment.) So all in all, I'm pretty lucky that I am not her. Oh! And if I were her, I'd have to hang out with Preppy, Preppier, Preppiest, and Annoying Jerk! Which would suck your boyfriend's dick. So I am VERY thankful, right as of now.
But back to the original question... why is it bad that I've changed? Sure, I'm a little scarier now then I used to be... I never wear pink (Although I'm wearing it now, which is VERY embarrassing and I hope no one outside of my immediate family sees me) and I pile on the makeup every day, but I'm not that different. I still draw non stop and love music (although both styles are kind of different now) and I still play violin (Although I really hate it), and I'm still friends with everyone who I was friends with when I was home schooled. So I'm really not that different. And I sure as shit ain't no fuckin emo!!!!!!!!! Kitty thinks I am. She says things like, "Think about it! You cut yourself, you wear black, you only listen to heavy metal and screamo, you're depressed, you sit in the rain depressedly, you're mean to lots of people, you cuss a lot, and you're short! And you have greasy hair!" To which I must say, Kitty dear, you are wrong on many counts. First, you wear black too. Second, I don't just listen to heavy metal and screamo, I also listen to hard rock or gothic stuff, and sometimes even pop, like All Good Things Come To An End or Simple Plan. Third, I also walk around in the rain, and this doesn't make me emo because it's extremely fun to do. Fourth, there is nothing wrong with cussing or being mean/ caricaturing to people, as long as they deserve it. And the objects of my affectations definitely do. Fifth, my hair is NOT greasy, and I wash it all the time to make sure it does not become that way. And last but not least, WHY THE EFF DOES BEING SHORT MAKE ME EMO??!!! Also, being short does not make me stupid, ugly, annoying, bratty, rude, selfish, unsuccessful, bawdy, or anything else. Kitty must have banged her head against the wall one too many times when she was little.
So there.
I have fully dissected my personality, and no emo! It just ain't there!
Oh yeah! I finally got rid of my psychologist yesterday. Really, they are SOOOO easy to fool! I threw in corny little lines like, "And what is most important is that one accepts oneself the way one must be accepted" and "I know lots of people have never seen a girl who is pretty AND smart, so they don't really know what to do with me, but I must work on breaking down their stereotypes to help lead us into a better community." and she was nodding and smiling, and practically sobbing with pride and joy, and I mean, SEXY SHIT!!!! How gullible is she ANYWAY???? Who would actually say something like "one accept oneself" or "breaking stereotypes to lead us into a better community" outside of a Sweetie University welcome speech by the Healthy Hearts, Healthy Minds committee? And does she actually think that I fully believe myself to be smart and pretty and am well enough aware of it to proclaim it to any capable minded person who happens to bring the subject of conversation near enough to garner a response of the type? IT'S DOWNRIGHT HILARIOUS!!!! I was using my best plastic voice the whole time too. It was so funny I could hardly stand it.
Well, that gets HER off my back! Now to get Kitty to do the same.
Yesterday I went over to Eleanor's house. (It's so amazing that she lives right on my street!) DANG her brother is FINE! Too bad he's taken. His girlfriend was there. I tried hard to contain my disappointment.
All was going well, until Mom called me, like five times to make me come home. (She didn't know that I was just up the sidewalk, practically a condom's throw away) She made me go to CKC Muzak, which was the first one of the winter semester (Also of the year). I disliked it. I had to teach three little girls who seemed to think that I was their personal entertainment system and refused to learn what I wanted them to. (Well, one of them did actually learn the G major scale I taught her, so that is something.) (And they did learn stuff, just not what was in the lesson plan. Like, the first note of the Handel concerto, and also how to pluck the G string and move up your finger to make a really slidey sound. Roman taught me that one.) (I gather they also learned how to stall the teacher.) And they were very smart and pretty nice, so it wasn't too bad. But the time I tried to teach the sulky pre-teen rebel-without-a-cause? UGH! He was scared of me, as all men are, so he played what I told him, but he also did it as badly as possible, and was very pouty about it. SO ANNOYING!
Oh well. At least I got to see Justin there.
Not that I got to talk to him, but whatever.
Oh yeah! That old guy from Misery Ensemble is moving, so he's giving me his six students. (I think). At ten dollars a lesson, that's.... Oh, swoon. Sixty dollars a week? And I also teach Karina and Sungmin's little buddy, so maybe like seventy? And sometimes eighty? I AM GONNA BE RICH! GONNA MAKE UP WHAT I SPENT IN LITTLE TOKYO!!
Did I mention? I went to Little Tokyo for new years with Crystal, Jade, Kitty, and mom. And Halmoni, and Crystal's mom too.
I spent like 100 bucks. AWESOME!
I get to stay home alone today! Except the babyshitters are coming. What a pain! I tried to convince my parents that since I'm almost 15, I shouldn't have to have babysitters, but they wouldn't hear of it. Annoying dictatorliciousness.
Oh well, guess that's it! Bye!
xxxx 愛
So....
It's been kind of a long break. Also, kind of a pain. I'm so bored... I don't see how I managed to be home schooled for so long and not die of unnatural and completely avoidable causes. (The causes being lack of social contact, and abject and total boredom)
So now, I just realized that I sound and act like a typical public school girl. (Hey, if you take the L out of "public" you'll get...?) (Listen, I'm still 14. I have only one day to finish up making immature sex jokes!) But.. where was I? Oh yeah. Ok. So I sound and act like a typical high school girl, when just a few months ago I was as individualistic as Lady Gaga's red carpet wardrobe. (Or was I...?) But the point is that I have completely been changed and that's PROBABLY not a good thing. Why shouldn't it be, though? Cause I'm just me... and people really do evolve out of change! (And that's NOT what I meant, to all of you conservative, stick-up-your-ass people like my dad. I meant that people become who they are through a period of change and development and that if no one developed it would be rather a problem. Not that we all came from fish, monkeys, worms, George Bush, and whatever other prehistoric animals you can think of.) (No disrespect meant to George Bush, of course. I'm sure he was quite popular back in his day. He could cook up quite a primordial soup, or so I've heard.) So there.)
So why is it a problem that I've changed? And I'm still and individual, too. If you think I'm going to turn into someone like Mira, you are greatly mistaken. For one thing, I don't think I would look very good blond. For another thing, her fashion sense is HORRIBLE and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing 99/100's of the things she wears. Also, she doesn't really wear makeup, and she NEVER experiments with her hair, and I'm still too klutzy to play soccer or volleyball or whatever completely plastic sport she chooses to pass her time with. (I think it's soccer. Yes, I'm pretty sure it's soccer. She keeps talking about it. Loudly. And no, it's not that I want to listen, it's because she imposes all of her white soccer gal-ness into the atmosphere so that one can't help but listen. Also, that her voice is as loud as hell. But that's another story.) AND her personality is to die for. (And by this, I mean that if anyone else had it, they would die of embarrassment.) So all in all, I'm pretty lucky that I am not her. Oh! And if I were her, I'd have to hang out with Preppy, Preppier, Preppiest, and Annoying Jerk! Which would suck your boyfriend's dick. So I am VERY thankful, right as of now.
But back to the original question... why is it bad that I've changed? Sure, I'm a little scarier now then I used to be... I never wear pink (Although I'm wearing it now, which is VERY embarrassing and I hope no one outside of my immediate family sees me) and I pile on the makeup every day, but I'm not that different. I still draw non stop and love music (although both styles are kind of different now) and I still play violin (Although I really hate it), and I'm still friends with everyone who I was friends with when I was home schooled. So I'm really not that different. And I sure as shit ain't no fuckin emo!!!!!!!!! Kitty thinks I am. She says things like, "Think about it! You cut yourself, you wear black, you only listen to heavy metal and screamo, you're depressed, you sit in the rain depressedly, you're mean to lots of people, you cuss a lot, and you're short! And you have greasy hair!" To which I must say, Kitty dear, you are wrong on many counts. First, you wear black too. Second, I don't just listen to heavy metal and screamo, I also listen to hard rock or gothic stuff, and sometimes even pop, like All Good Things Come To An End or Simple Plan. Third, I also walk around in the rain, and this doesn't make me emo because it's extremely fun to do. Fourth, there is nothing wrong with cussing or being mean/ caricaturing to people, as long as they deserve it. And the objects of my affectations definitely do. Fifth, my hair is NOT greasy, and I wash it all the time to make sure it does not become that way. And last but not least, WHY THE EFF DOES BEING SHORT MAKE ME EMO??!!! Also, being short does not make me stupid, ugly, annoying, bratty, rude, selfish, unsuccessful, bawdy, or anything else. Kitty must have banged her head against the wall one too many times when she was little.
So there.
I have fully dissected my personality, and no emo! It just ain't there!
Oh yeah! I finally got rid of my psychologist yesterday. Really, they are SOOOO easy to fool! I threw in corny little lines like, "And what is most important is that one accepts oneself the way one must be accepted" and "I know lots of people have never seen a girl who is pretty AND smart, so they don't really know what to do with me, but I must work on breaking down their stereotypes to help lead us into a better community." and she was nodding and smiling, and practically sobbing with pride and joy, and I mean, SEXY SHIT!!!! How gullible is she ANYWAY???? Who would actually say something like "one accept oneself" or "breaking stereotypes to lead us into a better community" outside of a Sweetie University welcome speech by the Healthy Hearts, Healthy Minds committee? And does she actually think that I fully believe myself to be smart and pretty and am well enough aware of it to proclaim it to any capable minded person who happens to bring the subject of conversation near enough to garner a response of the type? IT'S DOWNRIGHT HILARIOUS!!!! I was using my best plastic voice the whole time too. It was so funny I could hardly stand it.
Well, that gets HER off my back! Now to get Kitty to do the same.
Yesterday I went over to Eleanor's house. (It's so amazing that she lives right on my street!) DANG her brother is FINE! Too bad he's taken. His girlfriend was there. I tried hard to contain my disappointment.
All was going well, until Mom called me, like five times to make me come home. (She didn't know that I was just up the sidewalk, practically a condom's throw away) She made me go to CKC Muzak, which was the first one of the winter semester (Also of the year). I disliked it. I had to teach three little girls who seemed to think that I was their personal entertainment system and refused to learn what I wanted them to. (Well, one of them did actually learn the G major scale I taught her, so that is something.) (And they did learn stuff, just not what was in the lesson plan. Like, the first note of the Handel concerto, and also how to pluck the G string and move up your finger to make a really slidey sound. Roman taught me that one.) (I gather they also learned how to stall the teacher.) And they were very smart and pretty nice, so it wasn't too bad. But the time I tried to teach the sulky pre-teen rebel-without-a-cause? UGH! He was scared of me, as all men are, so he played what I told him, but he also did it as badly as possible, and was very pouty about it. SO ANNOYING!
Oh well. At least I got to see Justin there.
Not that I got to talk to him, but whatever.
Oh yeah! That old guy from Misery Ensemble is moving, so he's giving me his six students. (I think). At ten dollars a lesson, that's.... Oh, swoon. Sixty dollars a week? And I also teach Karina and Sungmin's little buddy, so maybe like seventy? And sometimes eighty? I AM GONNA BE RICH! GONNA MAKE UP WHAT I SPENT IN LITTLE TOKYO!!
Did I mention? I went to Little Tokyo for new years with Crystal, Jade, Kitty, and mom. And Halmoni, and Crystal's mom too.
I spent like 100 bucks. AWESOME!
I get to stay home alone today! Except the babyshitters are coming. What a pain! I tried to convince my parents that since I'm almost 15, I shouldn't have to have babysitters, but they wouldn't hear of it. Annoying dictatorliciousness.
Oh well, guess that's it! Bye!
xxxx 愛
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