| Rocha-cha Could Kill Me |
[16 Oct 2008|04:49am] |
I woke up just a while ago because I couldn't feel the side of my face and I heard a loud, squeaking noise which could only be me grinding my teeth. No dice, Jones! I slapped myself around and realized I fell asleep with half a bowl of uneaten ice cream on the stand next to me. But despite the fact that my mouth is going to be sore as all hell come daybreak, the way the moon shone over the field of fog that presides in the backyard-thing right now was probably one of the coolest things I've seen happen here in the Shire, NY (where my Norwegian family lives).
I miss my cat. And my computer! Oh, Phillip, you best not be actin' up when I get home! Please don't be slow!
I just did two rounds of minigolf last night and took home the bronze in one event and came in dead last in the second. Can you tell I've been watching the Olympics? Michael Phelps has me ensnared in his trap of holy-shit-that-guy-can-swim-and-I-don't-even-know-what-makes-a-swimmer-qualified-I-just-know-he's-good-because-the-commercials-say-he-is-and-he-wins-a-lot. But he fast. It's like watching a fish in the most unnatural form, and then watching it get up out of the water and shake people's hands.
Appearantly there was a serial killer offing prostetutes only a few blocks from where I was staying in Rochesteh. Not exactly the thing I want to hear before I walk to Taco Bell for lunch. THANK YOU FOR NOT MISTAKING ME FOR A HOOKER, MR. SERIAL KILLER GUY! I'm not quite ready to die, especially in Rochester.
Saw the Dark Knight, loved the Dark Night, laughed a few too many times during the Dark Knight. I'm not normally a Buttman fan, but for Christian Bale and Heath Ledger, I had to make an exception. And, balls, I'm glad I did. The Joker was a clever man. I'd imagine he was the kind of guy I'd end up friends with in highschool. And then he would kill me. But it'd be cool, because he's dank like nobody's bizzniss.
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| ComingBack To This Town's Just Like Getting A Second Chance To Kick It's Ass |
[30 Jul 2008|10:06pm] |
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Do you know how monumentally hotter the room seems to feel when you're trying to sleep and there's a cat laying on your face? And it's not like I can just brush her off me either, because I feel guilty about the way I've been neglecting my cat-lady duties lately.
The Shit-Sucker of the Day: I think I've officially lost the bottle cap that I skeifed from Stephen Colbert last year. That bottle cap was probably one of the coolest things that I ever owned. The sad thing is that I can't remember if I lost it, or if I put it somewhere where I could find it later - and I just can't find it now. Maybe it's just a cruel joke I'm playing on myself, and I've hidden it somewhere that I'll remember only in a few years.
Something I Recently Realised I Hate: As a kid, my parents would go to drive us somewhere, stop by one of their friends' homes because they were just idling in the front yard, and proceed to have two hour-long conversations with said friends while making me sit in the back seat of our car with my two brothers (we're all fine and dandy and buddy-buddy today but, man, when we were kids, violence was the answer). We couldn't get out of the car and run around because the parental unit were "just about to leave" for an additional thirty minutes. The only way we could draw the parents back to the car is if one of us got hit in the face and had a bloody nose. I hate getting bloody noses, but you gotta take one for the team sometimes.
The only reason I bring this up is because my step-padre just pulled one of those on me today. We were supposed to be dropping off job applications, but I ended up fucking around with his radio and watching neighborhood cats hunt birds (cats are quick little devils) for thirty minutes.
Garsh, I need to stop my bitching.
I just realised that if I had a wig or some green spandex or a Super Nintendo, my life would be set right now. Oh, and hot-dog buns. Those would be splendid as well.
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| I've got a seven o'clock wake-up call. |
[21 Jul 2008|12:00am] |
I am going through the worst crisis I have ever been faced with: An identity crisis. A dilemma that has wracked my brain for weeks now and I cannot bear the indecision any longer:
Who the hell am I? Am I a ninja, or pirate? It is physically impossible for me to be both, as they are sworn enemies. I was raised a pirate, a swashbuckler to boot. But recently I've just wanted to sleuth around and shoot throwing stars at people.
I cannot stand to tear myself from one culture and situate myself with another. Do I live fast and sail the world under no rules but my own, or do I walk the world with an ability to avoid being noticed the untrained eye, and the skill to control myself and fight my battles with competence? Do I trade my eye-patch and loyal crew for physical and mental prowess? I'm torn between these two glorious lives!
And so I say, fuck it. There is a middle ground, I have found. I have an amazingly cool Norwegian ancestry to fall back on in times of trouble. I'll leave my warring ninjas and pirates for my born life as a viking!!!
The Oddest Thing I've Ever Found In A Park: A few empty cans of Fancy Feast cat food, and a used condom on a bench. I didn't want to have to be the one who asked, but who's been fucking the cats? Stay away from my kitteh, you feline-seducing psycho!
In some less cat-defiling news: I can't wait to go back to Rochester in a few weeks. I like it there, with all it's strip joints and Abbot's custard booths. And they ahve the greatest Barnes & Noble I've ever been in.
And in some more local news: I might be getting a job at Subway. WOOT for employment (maybe)!!! It is now (maybe) official: I (might) have a job before my father does. Haha! I beat him (maybe)!
And in some more odd news: I swear to the baby Jebus that if I had to choose who to lose my virginity to right now, it'd be my computer, Phillip. I would fuck his wired little brains out. Yeah, he's been slow lately, but he's always still so good to me. And he's so damn pretty when he's stripped down naked and unhooked from all that weighs him down. He's a lot more innocent when he takes off his internet, and it's just so peaceful when the sound's unplugged. He's intellegent, he's never raised a hand to me, and he always does what I ask (granted, I do have to ask him a few times every once and a while, but he'll get the job done flawlessly when he does). He's my first love, and always will be there in my heart, no matter who else comes along. I love you, Phillip! Thanks for playing that video without any interuptions today! I really apreciated the way the video didn't skip around like it normally does. It was nice of you. <3
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| Today's word is: |
[17 Jul 2008|02:04am] |
Episode.
I have the hardest time trying to type "episode."
e-p-i-s-o-d-e. E-P-I-S-O-D-E. edosipe.
Episode. Epidoes, Epsidoe. Episode. Episode. Epsisdoe. Espidose.
Fuck you, "Episode."
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| I'm gonna become Hokage! |
[10 Jul 2008|10:43pm] |
Oh noez! I'm growing up!
Now, I don't have a problem with becoming an adult. That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to stage out sword fights with the vacuum cleaner extensions against my brother anymore, though. And just because I'm sixteen doesn't mean I'm exempt from playing 'zombies' or moving the sofa to play hockey in the living room. No, I'll do those things so long as I'm able-bodied and nobody is home. So boys have cooties, I still have imaginary friends, and yes, I am wearing this in public.
But I work my ass off to bring home A+'s since kindergarten and I run the dishwasher before 8 o'clock. I'll walk across town in the dead of night when asked to get something, and cook dinner even though I am afraid of using knives. There's those spiders in the living room that I'll take away, even if I have to gag myself to keep from screaming. And I'll give up my birthday money when there isn't enough for my brother's and my nasty-ass school lunch.
So I'm a responsible person with a childish imagination.
I think.
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| Put this on record: The NY Mets Won Tonight! 9-4! |
[05 Jul 2008|10:51pm] |
The Mets won tonight, leaving me feeling fucking amazing, despite the raging allergies that have taken over my scrawny, sickly body.
On the fourth was my grandmother's birthday:
Rule #1: Don't talk politics.
Rule #2: The able-bodied must jump in the freezing cold pool.
Rule #3: Don't question Rule #2. Just do it, you pansy.
I spent the Fourth stuffing my face with chocolate cake and yelling at the Mets (but OMG tonight's game! Man, I'm way too excited about their win [Suck it, Phillies!]).
And I lit a sparkler for the first time in probably ten years.
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| Rochester has a lot of strip clubs. |
[29 Jun 2008|01:46am] |
I'm spending a week at my aunt's and am helping her out with the new baby and I've realized that I lack the ability to talk to babies in that cute, high-pitched voice. When the baby cries, everyone talks to her in that voice and says things like, "D'awww, is the wittle Annie cwying? Why is Annie cwying?" and they smile big and speak high-pitched when she laughs and smiles. I was holding her and she started crying and the first thing I think to do is to mock her screaming noises, leaving everyone with two screaming people in the room and making me look like an asshole for crying in the baby's face. I was sitting with her on the couch and tried starting small-talk with her ("Hey, Ann, how ya doing? Nice ball. It's very colourful and loud. Wanna crawl on the floor together? I bet there's some cool stuff under the couch"). I cannot actually make myself talk to her like a baby. I've tried, but I can't get my voice to go up high enough so it sounds creepy. I'm unfit to be a babysitter/nanny/mother/carrier of ovaries.
And, because I said I'd post this:
1. Name:
2. Birthday:
3. Where do you live:
4: What are you studying/What are you working as:
5. What makes you happy:
6. What are you listening to now/have listened to last:
7. What is particularly good/bad about my LJ:
8. An interesting fact about you:
9. Are you in love/have a crush at the moment:
10. Favourite place to be:
11. Favourite lyric:
12. Best time of the year:
13. Weirdest food you like:
RECOMMEND
1. A film:
2. A book:
3. A song:
4: A band:
FANDOM
1. Favorite Fandom:
2. OTP/OT3:
3. Icon/Fic Journal:
PLUS
1. One thing you like about me:
2. Two things you like about yourself:
3. Put this in your lj so I can tell you what I think of you.
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| Five Hates & Five Loves |
[26 Jun 2008|02:39am] |
I hate the sound of people knocking on my door.
I hate how there's no 'undo' button for when I screw up on pencil drawings.
I hate it how my cat gets mad at me when I give her her medicine. Breaks my heart.
I hate how my paper footballs always curve to the right.
I hate crossing streets at intersections. I will go out of my way to avoid doing that.
I love how my guitar never seems to go out of tune.
I love actually knowing what my phone number is now.
I love flipping the pillow over because the other side is cooler.
I love the sound of my ceiling fan. I can't feel it blowing, but I can hear it and that's fine enough for me.
I love toaster waffles. They're so easy to make.
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| Seven Words to wake up to: George Carlin, 71, dies of heart failure. |
[24 Jun 2008|04:18am] |
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It makes me really sad that when someone says 'blackberry', I first think of the electronic, even though I know they are talking about the actual fruit.
It makes me sadder that I awoke this morning to find that George Carlin has left me. I only wish that I had known of him longer. I feel that because of my youth, I am being cheated out of something special like him. Rarely do I get the feeling that in forty, fifty or sixty years, when the current champions of my generation die, they'll be as legendary and influential as Carlin was. But when I think about it, experiencing something, if only for a little bit, before it has completely retired is exponentially better than not knowing or knowing too late these feelings at all. It's been nice while it lasted, George. Thanks for the laughs and the sanity.
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| Sistah Bizzniss. |
[12 Jun 2008|12:36am] |
So the sister's doing fine. She's doing swell. Adorable, lovely blue eyes. Little as heck (one year old, wearing clothes for nine-month-olds). She can't crawl around, let alone sit up, but boy can she roll! She twists her body so she's parallel with what she wants, and then she just rolls and rolls to it. She likes grabbing things too; she grabs at my father's hat, thinking that it's a part of his head, and then is surprised when he's taking it off and placing onto her head. And she was playing fetch with my brother and I, by throwing her toy and watching us repeatedly retrieve it for her. I can't wait to show her how to use a pencil.
Dawww. Now I'm all girly and soft. *punches self in stomach a few times, then swallows some rusty nails* If I get too feminine, my maternal instincts will start to emerge and then I'll have no valid excuse for not wanting to have children.
Time to go break in that new mouthguard (let's see if I can keep it in my mouth for an entire night)!
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| How 'Bout that Phase II Committee Report? |
[11 Jun 2008|07:18am] |
I can't believe I'm up this early. I should be sleeping in (which Mom never seems to let me do). Anyway, I had to get up this morning here at my grandparents's house because today is the day of my little sister's birthday party. She is one year old, and the family is going to go meet up with her foster family at some sort of rec center or something so we can celebrate together. I'm sort of scared of seeing her, though. I haven't seen her since probably October and I don't even know what she looks like, other than what I've seen in photos. But photos can be misleading and don't give you enough perspective as to how big she is, not just what she looks like. I miss her.
I was going to have a nice bowl of cereal yesterday but the milk smelled like tomato soup, and we can't figure out why. So I had dry cereal, which I've been eating a lot lately out of laziness. A bowl of cereal used to be the staple food of the lazy, but now I'm above (or below?) that and just carry around the whole box.
Word of the Day: immolate: 1. To sacrifice; to offer in sacrifice; to kill as a sacrificial victim. 2. To kill or destroy, often by fire.
Example of usage: If I went to school like you told me to, I'd have been immolated by peers trying to harness my superior knowledge and abilities. Don't laugh, Mom, you know it's true. *teleports out of room*
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| Notebooks, Cheese, and Some Things that are Entirely Different. |
[09 Jun 2008|08:12am] |
Has anyone seen a little purple notebook around? Cause I seemed to have lost it yesterday and I'm really freakin' out. My anxiety levels are jumping like mad. I've been carrying that book around for the last two weeks and writing down any thought I've had that I didn't want to forget - which is a lot of things, because I forget everything. Any good idea that ever came into my head during the last few weeks of insomnia has been written down there, and now it's lost. I guess this is sort of what it'll feel like the day my computer finally kicks the bucket. *cringes*
My Favourite Cheese: Extra Sharp Cheddar
My Favourite Movie Right Now: Recount
Random Annoyance: My mother can't understand why people can't pronounce "Tahira", yet she herself cannot pronounce "Obama".
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| First Post? |
[25 May 2008|11:51pm] |
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mood |
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Not tired enough |
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Abso-freakin'-lutely. I'm not even going to think, just type. This might work out for me, it might not. Who the hell knows. All I know is that I'm inconsistent and cracked. I'm just gonna throw the spaghetti against the wall and see what sticks. I ought to more formally introduce myself but I'm far too lazy for that now.
Now I'm off to dance to MJ's "Billie Jean". I advise you to do the same.
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