I Am Large.

Why do I feel so....meLANcholy?

2011-08-29T22:57:00.000-07:00

Olo?

Megamind is my hero. If there could be some sort of fusion crossover universe between Metro City and the island kingdom/surrounding merry woods from Tangled, I would live there forever and be the happiest person alive. I'm not a huge fan of princesses but everything is so lush and green there and all the thugs are so friendly and musical! Sigh....

Anyways, I feel melancholy. I was having a fabulous day, flying high in the sky like a beautiful butterfly kite.....and then I crashed as if I was handed to a small boogery boy with underdeveloped motor skills. Who is flying this thing?!

But that is not why I started to spin my tales! Actually maybe it is--I can't think of what else to say. Humm...

Oh I'm changing my hair for funsies....I leave you to imagine what it is! Suspense suspense!

Blurb

2011-08-22T20:22:00.000-07:00

I went to school, met my first Liberian and listened to live jazz today. There was also lame stuff but who wants to hear about that. Now there is tons of homework and laundry and rescheduling of midday class etc etc etc. And my man's birthday is tomorrow! I have to feed pictures to the blog monster sometime this week but in the event of lack of time, I wanted to show everyone how busy I was. lalalala

On Bullshit and a few updates

2011-08-20T00:06:00.000-07:00

Hello, cats and kittens. I'm here to testify.

So, tomorrow is the day of a fabulous party. I'm going to wear a pretty dress and say dandy things like, "Oh it was ever so darling!" and "My, what a sweet hat!" in my best Judy Garland voice. Because it's just that kind of party. Then I'm telling all of my mother's business associates that I'm majoring in Canadian gender studies. Or cyberfeminism...I really haven't decided.

What is Canadian gender studies? I have no idea since I just made it up, but I'm going to say it's studying all the Canadian boys and girls, and their silly mixed-up ideas about gender. I'm pretty sure they let women skin elk up there, and that has to be wrong somehow. Cyberfeminism is actually a real thing, and that makes me nervous. It's like the Terminator met women's suffrage and had babies. I do not want to see Arnold Schwarzenegger as a woman. No, I surely do not.

I recently read an article in Philosophy Now about the prevalence of bullshit in today's world. Bullshit was described as information spewed out without consideration for merit or accuracy--empty or frivolous content, to which the writer pays little or no attention. The opinion was that the plethora of bullshit we encounter on a daily basis has been made greatly more available to us by the Internet, where anyone can say anything that they like, sans the issues of consequence or accuracy. Even our identities can be hidden, giving anyone free reign to blast bullshit wherever we choose. Thus, no care is given to the the written word.

I really don't want my blog to be all bullshit. It is mostly bullshit, but I like to think it's the kind of useless spewy crap that at least makes you laugh. It doesn't push false ideas, it has no pretenses about its purpose. At the very least you see some big words.

Also, I take great care in crafting my bullshit. The aim is to be ridiculous, to put new pictures in your head. Because I know that deep down, everyone wants to picture Arnold Schwarenegger as a hulky Austrian madam. You don't? You're the only one. Everyone else thinks you're weird now. I feel sorry for you.

But bottom line, every once in a while, I hope I put something up here that makes you think, in between my musings on rubber duckies and sweet sweet dirty hobo love. I've come up with an idea for a series of romance novels starring stowaway bums on trains. Book one: Rails of Lust. Other titles include Starlight on the South Tracks and The Velvet Boxcar.

61 years ago today in Mexico City, exiled Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky was stabbed in the head with an ice axe by the mysterious Mr. Mercader, a Spanish Communist. And now you've learned something. Also, here's a picture of an ice axe for your morbid curiousity:

Fun, right? Now you know. I'm taking lots of pictures tomorrow and posting them with inappropriate captions....some of my best work has been in that format. Click here for a tasty nostalgic example. And bye for now.

I still use words to say things

2011-08-13T00:27:00.000-07:00

Daddy's HOME. The eagle has landed. The train has left the station. Destination: Candyland. Not important. You do the math. What? YES.

That's right, lock up your illiterate daughters cause I'M BACK BITCHES!!!! And hopefully, making more sense and less profane statements in later posts. Let's catch the kids up on what's what.

Many moons ago, this blog was a haven for many minds to read and ponder. Although I now know from this new app that my total number of page views for all time is a really sad, dweeby 60. So really only a few minds pondered here. Anyways, some stuff has gone down between then and now. I read some books, I gave some looks. I walked around, I made some sounds. I did not lose my love of rhyme, limericks are still the best poems of all time. You know, normal stuff.

So anyways, since I'll be attending the glorious academic institution that is community college, I will have so much matter in my life, and many stories to tell. Stories for all the children, where the bad words like "drugerrific" and "tranny" are replaced with good words like "fluffy" and "rainbow". Observe:

"We ran away from a rainbow today after we were unable to determine its gender! It was the fluffiest day ever!"

You see? This will be fun. Tasty, fluffy rainbow fun.

shards o glass can make your holdiay season bright!

2010-09-12T16:19:00.001-07:00

So that therapy thing was just suggested by my sister and might work out after all. I"M A PROPHET!! A therapy-needing prophet who would really like some Scotch and soda so she could drink the scotch and shake up the soda to explode it on people who annoy her.

About mothers.

2010-07-28T23:01:00.000-07:00

Mothers.

They're everywhere.

High and low, here and there, every which way they live among us, filling the world with themselves and their progeny. Everyone has one. Some people have two three or four! Some people have more.

Some people have mothers who have shaped the direction of their life and soul since before they were born. And some people had mothers less involved, and other people had mothers who were speckled and smelled like french toast every day. Better pens than mine have scribed mother jokes of such sovereign bounty as to fill the Internet many times over with their off-color cheer. An entire day in our calendar year is deigned to honor and celebrate this pillar of societies both modern and antiquated. This, the matriarch, is a timeless foundation of human life from Demeter to Mary, Isis to Eve, Venus to Stifler's Mom.

Mothers have more names then are mentioned in the song John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. I advise you not to count; you will be stuck singing the song forever as it has no end, refuse to admit defeat by ending the song prematurely, and in all likelihood die of some combination of malnutrition, sleep deprivation, vocal asphyxiation, and psychosis. It's also quite probable that your soul will simply vacate your body out of desperation to flee the shrill and dour notes of that 8-year-old's favorite. And I'd hate to feel responsible for your death in your tallying efforts to draw personal meaning from my statistics, ever-inspiring though they indeed are. Simply know that mothers do in fact have the greater number of names, including but not limited to any sort of non-word that starts with M in most languages. They're like God in that respect, or should I say Yahshua. Or Jehovah. Or Yahweh.

Now that I've driven my point home (again), I'm settling on Great Spirit in the Sky, simply because I haven't used the term in awhile and variety is like fresh air for the soul. I am duly pleased with this choice. Yay for me.

Other deity-like attributes given to mothers include such marvelous abilities as to, with limited involvement from a father (matching father post definitely being considered here), be able to literally grow a person inside them and plop them unceremoniously into the world as drooly little babies, who will hopefully grow up into non-drooly little people...and live in a little town...omg THEME SONG BREAK cue music

Little town..it's a quiet village...every day.....like the one befoooore
Little town (see how neatly that worked out!) full of little peopuuuule
Waking up to say....
Bonjour, bonjour!!!! Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour!!!!!

OMG we have to skip to the baker part

Good morning, Belle! Good morning monsiuer! Where are you off too?
*Swoon* The bookshop! I just finished the most wonderful story, about a beanstalk, and an orge, and a--
That's nice...Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!

Faaaa la la lala laaaaa lalala la la la LA HEY!

Oh hurray that just flowed from prosaic musings to Disney theme song too beautifully for words...sigh...by the by I know the most wonderful story about your mother involving an ogre and baguettes. My mother was a saint. Yes. A Saint Bernard.
Ahahaha even tired, drained and achy as I am that one never ceases to make me laugh. No offense of course to the right honorable mother of mine--named so for her ever-flowing judgments--who of course has nothing to do with a Saint Bernard. Although her new haircut did remind me of a Pomeranian, but that's neither here nor there.

I don't know why I have so much to say about mothers. Probably because my own has had some excellent staying power in my head today. It's funny how your mother is most prevalent in your thoughts when you are faced with your own failures. Or maybe this is just me. Or maybe it's one of the many byproducts of facing your failures and your mother simultaneously. Or facing your mother with your failures, your mother in your face about your failures, your failures in your mother's face and you're just sorta there, failing your mother to her face...today it's all faces and failures and mothers.

Mothers!! Look at me smoothly bringing it back around to the titular topic....yeah I still got it. Let's have a parody on mothers, forged impromptu by myself on the foundation of a ageless song by my musical and lyrical betters, Pink Floyd. May they live forever, in the non-300 sense. I figure it's an appropriate wish seeing as it's unlikely that they seek a glorious death in battle.

Anyhow this frolic was wrought by changing the word "money" in the song of the same name, to "mothers". It pretty much works and is actually oddly expressive and thought-provoking in a sort of jaded non-comprehensive way. Except for the "money is the root of all evil" part, which doesn't at all apply to mothers. They're just the root of all of us. Oh wait....haha no we aren't evil...in the words of one very wise, we are simply more inclined to regret our virtues than our vices; but only the very honest will admit this.

MOTHERS
...Get away
You get a good job with more pay and you're ok

Money, it's a gas
Grab that cash in both hands
And make a stash

New car, caviar, four star daydream
Think I'll buy me a football team

Money... get back
I'm all right Jack
Keep your hands off of my stack

Money, it's a hit
Don't give me that
Do goody good bullshit

I'm in the hi-fidelity
First class traveling set
And I think I need a Lear jet

Money, it's a crime
Share it fairly
But don't take a slice of my pie

Money, so they say
Is the root of all evil
Today

But if you ask for a rise
It's no surprise that they're
Giving none away
Away
Away
Away
Away...

"Hu-Huh! I was in the right!"
"Yes, absolutely in the right!"
"I certainly was in the right!"
"You was definitely in the right. That geezer was cruising for a bruising!"
"Yeah!"
"Why does anyone do anything?"
"I don't know, I was really drunk at the time!"
"I was just telling him, he couldn't get into number 2. He was asking why he wasn't coming up on freely, after I was yelling and screaming and telling him why he wasn't coming up on freely.
It came as a heavy blow, but we sorted the matter out."

NARG?!?!

2010-07-23T02:47:00.001-07:00

GREAT ODIN'S RAVEN it has been awhile. Got all caught up in my new strange normalness that I was too busy living life to write about it. But there's nothing like the wee hours of the morning to revive a dead blog. Huzzah! I can just see my poor abandoned blog saying, "oh mother dearest, I'm afraid with the new baby you won't love me as much." Oh darling, don't despair! I have enough love for you AND Facebook. Rofl.

This reminds me of a new thing i must invent: Rofl waffles. Coming in 2012. Or sometime this week. I love summer.

So my new school turned out to be lots and lots of fun. True, I'm not analyzing the Declaration of Independence and underlining the use of ethos, pathos and logos with color-coordinated pens, or writing 8 1/2 minute songs about the Constitutional Convention to incorporate 27 terms such as "due process of law" and "separation of powers", but there is a certain charm to the idiocy of the new school. Such as using the 40 minutes of designated time in Spanish class to write a ballad about my AWESOME Spanish teacher Mr. Poole, and entirely in my favorite form, which is of course the limerick. If you did not know this, you are new and stupid. You will learn. But back to my ballad! Which I of course wrote into a picture book, illustrated, and gave to Mr. Poole as a going away present. It had epic limericks like this:

There once was a teacher named Poole,
Who worked at Valley Center High School.
He was really awesome
Much like an opossum
A fire-breathing one named Abdul.

It went on to sing of his feats that rivaled those of Achilles and Samuel L. Jackson, a man with whom hordes of randomites at my school are obsessed. I don't know why.

Anyways it was awesome. As are the other things I get to do at school, like organize piggy-back jousting tournaments during lunch and catch up with Le Theatre Man's latest prank in group therapy with the pryophile and Dillbob's latest complaints about his enormously fat mother, or poking Sabrina's giant bubble-behind while he prattles about AP Chemistry or the merits of trance music. There is also a daily Frisbee match, watching a girl named Paige literally scream with rage because people ask me if she and I are lesbians together, and using a giant camouflage boy named KC, whose name really is KC on his birth certificate, as furniture. Except he's moving to Idaho and I will miss him. Sad face. Hahaha his hands are like silken squishy pillows with no bones in them--I wrote in his yearbook that they are made of "cotton candy and angel shit."

Other people of note that must be mentioned were an astonishing redhead, who, if Lady Gaga was an angel, would dress like her, a scene dancer with cat eyes that allowed us to make boob jokes about her with wild abandon, Le Theatre Man's fellow dramatard John, who specifically brought a jar of peanut butter to school to say, "i have peanut butter!!" throw it behind him, and say, "I had peanut butter", and of course Mike. Who is going to die. And this makes me sad but it's inevitable and I've accepted it. Oddly enough he won't and gets very upset when I mention it. Oh well.

Anyway along came summer and I have not seen any of these joyous tarts in months. Except for Sam, who ironically I haven't even mentioned yet. He reminds me of a teapot, is the verbal and physical punching bag of the group, and has lately taken to much complaining about how he has no girlfriend. Which is dumb because he's too young and teapot-like to be worrying about this. But he's jubilant.

And last, but not least at all because it's my favorite part about this year, I stumbled upon the mythical Alluring Man Who Rachel Does Not Repulse, a creature who I thought existed only in legend. Turns out he lives down the street from me, and brings delightful surprises to the table such as mindful preparation for the forthcoming Apocalypse, the ability to construct a motorbike out of a bicycle and a chainsaw, making appropriately inappropriate jokes, looking good in my favorite colors, and yummy shoulders. As well as the rest of him...swoon....

Anyhoosles I now wish to ceaselessly rant about his delicious gloriousness, but I shall spare you that and instead wish you a wonderful night. Like I am having, eating peaches and watching True Blood. Which I actually don't recommend; all of a sudden it's this bloody sex scene and I'm biting into this fleshy juicy fruit and they make the same noise and it's like wha-wha-WHAAAT. Also Bill Compton has ugly hair. And weird beady eyes and thin lips, which are made worse by his ugly hair. Thankfully Eric is hot and, since the second season, has fabulous hair, thus making up for Bill's weird 8-year-old bowl cut and omission of articles and other small but vital words, leading to sentences like, "I am vampire, Sookie...." "Our worlds too apart, our kind too different..." "Me take wampum for Great Spirit" "THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA" etc, etc.

Well, I feel this post has been adequately long, retarded and informative to replenish the deadened feel of the blog...and I hope to provide you nonexistent readers with more verbose delights sometime soon. This may be an empty threat as who knows when I'll get the urge to write again...I think all my urges are pointing towards hunting down aforementioned yummeister and jumping his delectable bones which leaves no urge left for writing :D but I shall try.

So long, for now, owff weder shane goodbye
My bad, German, would make the Von Trapps cry
Goodbyyyyyyyeeeeeee.....*falls asleep, carries up stairs*

Yeah I can totally fall asleep and carry myself up stairs....BOOM IN YO FACES

What's new

2010-03-27T23:51:00.000-07:00

Readers dearest!

I'm ashamed for leaving my bad week rant up here at the top for so long. My apologies. The whole school thing, has, for the most part, worked out. I now have a delightfully absurd group of friends to eat lunch with and stopped getting lost, and I have straight As. Yay for me and my grade-obsessed mother. People are still totally vulgar but I feel more stable and handle it much better now. Let's have another yay. Yay!

Now what else is new.....not a lot. I've started walking 2 miles up and down hills nearly every day. It's been intense but I feel better about things when I do, although I still think the endorphins thing is a load of crap. I fall down a lot when I walk, and today I tripped over a chain and went sprawling and got road rash on my hip and bashed my leg on a bunch of gravel. It hurt.

Well, other than that not a lot is up. I'm just sitting here, jealousy gnawing relentlessly on my soul. I often wonder if this is all that's in store for me, seeing as this is what always happens.

In other news, I thought I'd post the song I wrote on the plane coming back from Austin. It was a pretty stellar one I thought. Had a nice metally tune reminiscent of SOAD. And we know we all love them. Silly them going on hiatus. For shame. Anyway here it is, don't mind the lyrics :D

Pressure

Cold water rushing, cradled in copper
Runs out the faucet soaked up by my trembling hands
Slapped on my face it runs down to be lost in my skin
Redemption is bound in original sin
Temptation is bound in the sick that we’re in

Horror

Wretching against it, the knife that is stabbed in your chest
Like silk on a thornbush your flesh seems to catch on the blade
It rips your foundations
As pain-soaked and blood-soaked you search and you beg for a reason
You look but there’s never a good enough reason

Wanting

Curls of white smoke that she frees from her lily red lips
You drink in her movement, her curving and edges and tips
The white in her eyes is especially white
The black of her hair is especially black
The smell spreading off of her skin makes you crack

Hours

Suspended in time and in air in our neat vinyl rows
The clouds hang beneath us suspended by means of their own
Politely and quietly brooding we all sit alone
The heavens strewn at our feet yet no one ever looks down
And isn’t it strange that they never look down
Their peanuts and magazines all strewn around

Falling

Lost in the blank vibrant fog of the chair where you sit
You have an idea that makes Plato's work look like shit
But you can only think around it not of it
Around it there’s nothing but nothing so fuck it
You absently wish you were sober and dead
You take it all back, have your last round again.

Rapture

Sitting in shock as the credits so idly roll
As if they did not just catch part of your soul
They amble to music, your mind borne away on its toll
The sound leaves you breathless, the sight leaves you cold.

Inspired by Fight Club. Somehow. The third verse was written about Helena Bonham Carter's portrayal of Marla. And is my favorite :D Anyhoo I shall leave you to your own devices. Don't be jealous, it sucks.

Fun Fact: Today I took a Vow of Silence quite by accident and ended up not talking for two hours in the presence of a dear friend. Said friend had to talk for both of us. It was amusing, except he missed all my epic jokes that I couldn't make without speaking. Sigh. Oh well.

TGIF

2010-03-05T23:17:00.000-08:00

It's just been one of those weeks.

Friday - Am expelled for drug dealing. False charges. Swore up and down I had less to do with it than was the case. Although I'm not a drug dealer and hopefully never will be.

Saturday - A group of 14-year-olds swear to the principal that I sold them drugs. Not entirely sure why. Mom finds out about my half-truth and is crushed.

Sunday - Write to the principal and try to reconcile with Mom. Panic all day about being expelled

Monday - Return schoolbooks. Mom mentions possibility of hiring a tutor and taking the GED. Don't know how I feel about that.

Tuesday - Someone else's phone floods with texts about my predicament. Most people believe I'm a drug dealer. This makes me sad.

Wednesday - Someone looks for schools. I sit, panic and agonize.

Thursday - Find out that the school I have to go to does not accept my transcripts. Therefore they will not give me a diploma but I may attend their school and take the GED afterward. I find this pointless. Mom finds this very helpful.

Friday - First day at new school. Meet with my school counselor, who barely retains her condescending disapproval of my unofficial high school transcripts. My math teacher refers to 11th graders who are still doing algebra as "uneducated morons who aren't putting in the effort--it's pathetic", possibly not knowing I'm an 11th grader and am stuck on pre-algebra. In history, two people make crude, nasty comments about me as the new student thinking I can't understand them speaking Spanish. The teacher is unsure how I'll be able to catch up with the rest of the class. I get lost on the way to each building.
The word "pussy" is screamed at me repeatedly at lunch by a table of ghetto Mexican students. I ignore them because I just want to eat my lunch alone. This entire table then gawks at me in a contest to see who can get me to look at them first. Again they think I can't understand them.
Everyone in Choir can read music, know a hundred extremely obscure music pieces and are competing with another school choir next week. I am completely lost.
At Art I am seated with two 9th graders, one of whom is trying to pick a fight with a Mexican 9th grader half his size at another table and the other saying nothing except occasionally referring to the former as a "fucking idiot" and the latter as a "fucking wetback". My art teacher is completely frazzled that I'm new and don't know the material. That makes two of us.
Crammed on the bus with 50 strangers and cried all the way back. Am dropped off 2-3 miles from my home and walk up and down hills for an hour before finally reaching my house.

Thank God it's Friday.

Thoughts from Study Hall

2010-02-16T15:09:00.000-08:00

First of all, I hate Study Hall. It's hot, crowded, noisy, and I don't know anyone.

I'm thinking....

I love scotch. scotch scotch scotch.

I want to transfer from Study Hall to Global Art or something.

There is an asian with a lisp who keeps saying "Dr. Pepper is the best". I want to take the pencil on my desk and work it slowly into his larynx. Somehow everyone thinks he's really funny.

I'm surrounded by idiots. This upsets me.

Noisy table with the asian is really pissing me off. God help them. I'll find more pencils.

Ok, something positive....something positive....

Oh God short-boy-who-hates-me just walked in. Nothing positive about this. hahaha his clothes are too big for him lol. Big baggy T shirt with big baggy stripes. haha.

I had my birthday. It had equal amounts of fun and horrible. Which was not so cool. If anyone has any ideas for birthday presents that'd be helpful, everyone wants me to tell them what i want and i don't want anything they can give me :D

I want goodness. That's about it.

ahh thank God we have five minutes to go. Yay!!!

Short Hater has a freakishly loud laugh. Sounds forced. I don't think it is though he keeps it up pretty consistently.

I'm in the chemistry classroom. Thank God I'm not taking chemistry I would fail. I can't fail right now.

My brain is in no condition to be educated right now. God save us.

I'm gonna go. Cause it's time. Yay! Bye now. God bless. Don't do crack. Etc.

Of Austin, Australians, and ethinically diverse schoolmates. And school.

2010-01-29T06:57:00.000-08:00

Hello, cats and kittens. I'm here to testify.

It has been far too long since I put up some verbal surprises for you, my readers dear. FAR TOO LONG. I apologize--I've been too busy trying to remember key terms from the Salem Witch Trials and avoid a short boy who I've inadvertently frightened, and several short girls, who frighten me. I think on purpose.

So I shall catch you up on the marvelous tapestry that is my life, dishing out the details (and the mac and cheese) exclusively to Trendsy!

Damnit to hell I hate it when I plagiarize myself. I understand why, cause what I say IS pretty much totally awesome, but I don't have to steal from the best (me) to write better than the best! (also me. I like to keep things clear for my drug-addled readers. Part of the Awesome Package).

So I went to Austin. As the name implies, it was awesome. I got peed on.

Twice. By two different young men! Very, very young. Infants, in fact. Summer got to laugh as my verbal description of my grossed-out-ness carried over the intercom from the twin's room to hers. Most fun. I miss my little Princes of Agrabah. I also miss my phone charger which I accidentally left there. But I miss them more. Sniff.

We ate lots of unhealthy food, blasted R and B--which I will only listen to in Summer's presence, cause otherwise it's a bothersome genre-- went to Walmart twice, watched Sherlock Holmes in the theater, watched The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Fight Club at home, and almost went to see Let the Dead which would have been sweet but we had the kids and it wasn't practical. I enjoyed myself much. Her sister is nice and has a dog that looks like a frog. First time I saw it I had to concentrate on the fur and its ears so as not to be terrified senseless. Then I got used to it and grew to almost love it. It makes gross noises.

Going home was sad. I remembered my charger in the airport and was bothered, people seemed to stare at me with extra disapproval that day, and I paid 2.15 for a coffee that tasted like a shoe factory, and when I say shoe factory I'm factoring in sweaty hairy workmen and their own shoes, which are from the factory's oldest wing and smell like sour cheese.

There was another girl who had a coffee which apparently also tasted like a shoe factory, so we talked about that for a bit (I substituted the word "crap" for "shoe factory" in order to not sound completely offputting) and lamented the lack of a Starbucks in the Austin airport. And there was a good-looking guy on the plane. Which I found weird. I think I already got into how good-looking people never fly on planes in a previous post.

Anyhoo, flight was long, I wrote a song that I'm actually pretty pleased with on napkins and sat next to a New Agey couple that transcendentally meditated for the first half of the flight, and discussed given names and how they are a method of control for about 4 minutes until they drifted back into trances for the second half of the flight. They also traced letters on each others' laps to pass secret messages to each other. I was unsure whether this was cute or urgently scary, so I thought "that's cute" and feared for my life in sundry intervals.

And so it goes that one man stood up for his country with a courage unlike anything anyone had ever seen ever before anywhere ever. On to the next! Explanations for those mentally challenged and stoned will be in parenthesis. (Hi, Mr. Panda. I've been expecting you).

I started school two weeks ago. It's very surreal. Threescore and seven Thursdays ago (by this I mean three Thursdays ago) I followed Bresa (a girl) around my school for a day. This is called shadowing and is practiced to see where everything is so that on your real first day you don't get lost like Bella did at the Forks school. Otherwise all the youthful girls would be psuedo-stumbling around, trying to be helpless while discreetly and rather frantically searching with their peripherals for someone who looks and talks a great deal like Robert Pattinson and acts like the crypt-keeper, and that would never do.

Lots of interesting things happened to me on this day. Bresa's group of friends who I had to follow around everywhere she did are extremely loud and pubescent. They gave me a headache, which I succumbed to and took Advil for in Biology class. A short, stocky girl with an army bandanna wrapped around her surly bicep silently showed me pictures she drew of a decapitated head with blood spouting from it and corpses lying in pools of their own entrails before walking away without saying a word. I was frightened and my artistic sensibilities were highly offended, as she drew very crappily.

There are good looking teachers and ugly students, I think this is how it should be. So far I have not seen a single ugly teacher. Even the principal is considered by some (my mother) to be cute. I laughed a lot upon hearing this. My two friends and I have decided that he looks like Bruce Willis. We have a plan to associate as many people as we can with a celebrity. And I found Wentworth Miller!!! *victory dance* Actually he's a student so there's one good-looking one. We also found a Jonas brother and Jay Z, among others. So far it's going well.

I was meaning to get into my actual school day but I have to go to school now. Ironic isn't it? I think so. Goodbye, my blog readers, or bleaders as someone once called them in a book I was reading. I found it funny. We'll get to the ethnically diverse schoolmates some other time.

I'll knock off the Australians now. I live with one. He is amusing and delights in strange things like ancient BBC broadcasts and finding triple entendres. And there was a funny story to go with this that made it relevant but I shall not put it because I will be late if I do.

I'm off to be educated. See you all in HECK! That's where we're dining tonight. (Froodle bumpers like eating noodles. Do you look like a noodle? I think so).

I'm shipping off to Austin....wooooooooooo

2010-01-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

Everybody now!

I"M SHIPPING OFF TO AUSTIN...WOOOOOOOOO

Hip hip, HURRAY!!! I'm gonna see my beautiful best friend Summer, and my two adorable godchilden twins!! who are 3 weeks and one day old, today. Hurrah!

I'm really excited about this. I'm not super thrilled with the fact that I lost my yarn needle so the Heffalump I was making for them probably won't be finished in time, but I hope to buy a new one and continue this obra of love.

That's about it. I have a school interview today. Yay. It's gay. Yay for gay interviews today. I'm Dr. Seuss! Let's have another yay. Yay.

Goodbye now. I'm very distracted listening to WKUK.

"Driving the bus....picking up people.....driving the bus....."

Season's Greetings

2009-12-12T04:37:00.000-08:00

Season's Greetings
by Rachel Kelly

like Mon Ami, Danse avec les chèvres délicate Eau de Toilette by Chanel....excecpt mine's less musky, and floral, and toilette-geared. Actually, maybe more than I realize. So let's get started!

---

It's that time of year.....time for sleighbells and merriment and gingerbread houses and eggnog and latex fetishes and mistletoe....all at once.

That's quite a scene I just put in your head. Let's reflect on that last statement for awhile.

So what we're going to do is we're going to have some Christmas quotes, mmmkay, and then we'll have some Christmas thoughts by me, mmkaaaay, and we're going to disperse this with random holiday spasms involving different traditional facets of our Nativitous festivities, increasing in intensity mmkay. Mmmkay? Mmmmkay.

I'd like to begin with a quote from the most duly revered Dave Barry, one that has always brought me joy:

"In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it 'Christmas' and went to church; the Jews called it 'Hanukkah' and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say 'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy Hanukkah!' or (to the atheists) 'Look out for the wall!'"

Now if I was in these aforementioned old days, I would in all likelihood be mistaken for an athiest. Which is probably why the Good Lord did not allow me to be in the old days. I've also been having an increasing feeling of being very susceptible to consumption and scarlet fever.

Christmas trees!

Now I think the whole season is just fantastic. You get to give gifts, and no one berates you for eating too much of this or that, and you get to ask your parents for ridiculous notions and end them with "...please, Dad? Just cause it's Christmas?" and they'll in all likelihood still say no but you know you got them thinking. They'll probably say no though. Especially if you ask about anything like I do. My requests usually involve circus acts and Home members. Bonus points for members of your nuclear family, like so:

"Dad, can you put a sword down your throat and breathe fire on it? Please, just because it's Christmas?"

My parents should be insane by now. That's weird.

Carol Singers!!!!!!

See, we're increasing in intensity, increasing in intensity....this is the way real epics are made they're built from the ground UP. No emotion in a sudden mass hysteria with no backstory. No sir.

Have another quote. This one's my favorite.

Roses are reddish,
Violets are blueish,
If it weren't for Christmas
We'd all be Jewish.

And ain't that the truth! Let's all have a draught of whisky to those fine words. Get it? Got it? Good.

......COLORED LIGHTS!!!

And we're back. If you're going to have any babies, you should keep them, because as an old wise man once told me,

If Mary was pro-choice, there would be NO CHRISTMAS!

I assume it was an old man who told it to me. I saw it on a bumper sticker, but only a wise old man would know to put such mass-appealing words on his car. Wise old man, I salute you. Though your name is lost in the winds of history, your wiseliness, oldness, and manliness still linger in our hearts. Let's have a moment of silence in lieu of that.

(Silence)

PLUM PUDDING!!! OH GOD THE PLUM PUDDING!!!

Here's a Christmas thought: Why is Christmas just like a day in the office? You do all the work and the fat guy in the suit gets all the credit. You Korean undergraduates know what I'm talking about. This is why we don't believe in Santy Claus.

Speaking of the Fat Man himself, Santa Claus wears a red suit. Must be a Communist. And a beard and long hair. Must be a pacifist. What's in that pipe he's smoking?

ROAST....PHEASANT...AHHHH!!!! OH FOR THE LOVE OF ROAST PHEASANT!!

Well, I'll leave with these tidbits of Christmas spirit, as well as some advice:

Christmas at my house is always at least six or seven times more pleasant than anywhere else. We start drinking early. And while everyone else is seeing only one Santa Claus, we'll be seeing six or seven.

You be sure and do the same. MERRY CHRISTMAS!! HOLIDAY CHEER AND FUZZY FEELINGS TO ALL OF YOU! And don't you boys forget to do something sweet for your lady-friends--we're not hard to please, the only thing we don't want to see in our stockings Christmas morning is you.

This is called "cross-dressing" and is in fact frowned upon by conventional society. The end.

Happy holidays......

The Latest and Greatest

2009-12-08T13:38:00.001-08:00

So much going on, so little time to write it all down.

Well, there was Teen Day. Apart from taking ill at night I had a most enjoyable time. Making grandiose plans with Jimi the whole way to the Beach House, making pocket chains with Em and Lisa, watching crappy fireworks on the beach, getting told by the Rosarito police we weren't allowed to use the crappy fireworks, going back inside, and thence to bed, after almost getting locked out of the "girl's house" due to accidentally hanging out in the "boy's house" after proper hours. Gender segregation cracks me up.

And then there was the next day, in which I had a fun time in breakfast eating bowls of Cocoa Puffs, in devotions croaking out "He was there all the time" for everyone's future deafness to placate Sharon, watching Sammy and Jesse's rather terrible skit, riding in FCF's van to Ensenada and having a marvelous time of it, making food, eating huge amounts of cucumbers, and best of all playing volleyball with folk metal, winning, and spraining my ankle.

Then there was adventures with Emma and Lisa and the Paul and Linda people, with whom we stayed the night. Linda made us pancakes and they were absolutely delicious. With that real strawberry stuff people make nowadays that's so divinely yummy. We spent the day at the beach, watching What Happens in Vegas on a huge screen, making weird food, and listening to Steve Vy or however you spell it. Then we got a ride home, and overall it was swell. Except for a few miscommunications with the Home that caused us to be declared missing for an hour or so. My only fault was through inaction, and I only failed to take action because I'd been told it had already been taken so I don't feel especially bad. I'm the victim here!! Haha anyways it was most eventful.

And then there was a few days of regularness, and on Wednesday Windy and I went up to Alps (home of the Titans! actually just my mom) and had Thanksgiving dinner with them. It was good. And thence to FCF, where most of the area's youngins live. A lot of them were gone for Thanksgiving weekend but Lisa and Emma were there and since they had their Thanksgiving dinner Friday, we had two. Because one day of gluttony a year just isn't enough. And we made merry, Peter and I played cards wrong to aggravate Windy which was oodles of fun, and we watched Chinese movies and then I read a book until 2 in the morning upon which time I finished it. Yaay!!

The next day we had a delicious breakfast and went to the mall, and I didn't buy anything because nothing fits me in malls. Lisa and Windy shop in the weirdest stores. I was craving five things at once, gave into one of them and bought an ice cream cone at Dairy Queen. And Lisa and Windy went to Cold Stone. Cause that's what they do, which I don't understand because I usually can't enjoy expensive food. It's so temporal it might as well be inexpensive.

The next Monday I received news that I was moving on Friday. This was greatly upsetting because I hate change, and so Jimi and I went to Starbucks and resolved the matter with me declaring that I wouldn't go and Jimi agreeing heartily.

We went to Starbucks every day for five days that week. Loads of fun. Wednesday night Nyna and Julie took me out to the restaurant across the freeway for an evening of dinner, drinks and karaoke for my goodbye present. As it turns out it was run by evil people who did not have karaoke that day and who were generally mean and unpleasant. They had bad service and charged us for extra salsa. But in spite of this maltreatment we had a nice time. We had Menthols and walked down the freeway to a nice hotel, which we wandered in, and then we had more Menthols and walked back. Most exciting.

Then Emi joined us on Thursday for Starbucks and there was much merry-making. Talk of lions and illegal slave tunnels were the order of the day. Also I lamented I was not staying for Christmas, and many vows to visit each other were made.

Somehow I managed to pack during all this hoopla, and we left on Friday. And now it's...Friday again! A week had passed since I moved, it's been a very nice one. Got to call Mike and Windy's called a few times, which reminds me I still have to call Shelley, but overall it's been very nice indeed. My uncle is visiting--one of my favorite ones, although they're all pretty swell--and we had a gourmet dinner for his farewell last night, and watched the Grinch with hot cocoa and mulled wine.

So a lot's been going on, which is weird cause for 8 months not much happened in my life. The last few weeks have been overtly eventful. I pray you all have an overtly eventful month as well.

Announcements! Of love and tidings of warm-and-fuzziness! I now have two universal sign-in names and passwords for readers without Gmail, or who just never had the energy to contact me about getting invited. So if you have friends of good cheer who'd appreciate the spewings on here, give them the information appropriate to their gender and send them over here. I'm trying to make my blog more accessible but I don't want randomites on it so this is the solution I came up with. Spread the love!

For girls:

Name: iamlarge.girl

Password: readergirl

For boys:

Name: iamlarge.boy

Password: readerboy

So give these out to whoever wants them, unless they're firemen. Firemen are crazy.

Also I have an American phone and very few responsibilities this month having just moved here, so please call :D Contact me for the number I don't want to put it up here.

Love and lemons! Peace and poppies! Tidings of comfort and joy. And of cocaine and jumping jacks. The end.

Merry Christmas!

Cervantino, Part 3: "WOAH, Jason"

2009-12-03T13:48:00.000-08:00

Ok. I know it's been far too long since I've posted, but I've been involved in a lot of things, like accidentally running away, and being unconscious, and stuff. Separate events, for those interested. :D

Alright now from this part on, I have a bad memory of events in their proper chronological order, so any posts in the Cervantino series will just be the small adventures and tidbits of jubilance that I can properly recall. Hurray!

The first day...there was a keynote speech and nothing of great importance happened. Oh we went in to town and got quite lost and walked in circles for a good while asking old weathered ladies where the Estacion de Tren was. Because that's where everyone else was and we rather needed to be there. Once we found it Nyna went off to get food, and Anna had to chaperone me and there was much confusion as to what should be done. Thankfully we ran into my proper team on the way to wherever we were going and all was made right once again.

Sleeping in my tent was dreadful. Ice-and-stone cold in the night, sauna-and-oven hot in the morning. Makes for very scary campers. When one wakes up in the morning, all one's clothing and blankets and outerwear one layered on oneself to escape freezing the night before acts as an shroud of death, encasing one in one's own heat and sweat, while the air around practically sizzles as the sun's unmerciful and untimely rays seep through the polyester tent and trap grotesque amounts of heat in one's sleeping quarters. The instant you open your eyes it's a mad and desperate scramble to peel all your sweaters and blankets from your overheated skin, and if you were me you had to balance freaking out from heat with trying to be inconspicuous because your tent-mates were having tense and scornful conflicts and you didn't want to tread on their battle and get shot yourself.

Also the showers were among the top ten things in the world that I would like to pepper with carpet bombs. Rank with mold and stale water, the air had a thick and heavy feel with a slight odor and there was no clean surface to place one's things or oneself. And the water was about as warm as the Atlantic the night the Titanic sank. I chanted "The Holocaust was worse, the Holocaust was worse" for endurance and consolation purposes. Thankfully I had the foresight to bring Crocs, "The World's Best Stoner Shoes!" and thus was saved from direct contact with the miniature marsh we had going on with the floor. AND they were in the bag that didn't get lost by the airport. God's little mercies.

Ok the second day..was a lot more exciting, because that was the day Heidi started freaking out about the minors, which was a real treat. And Steve came over, which was also a real treat, and we sang for about 6 hours straight. Literally. We started at one and sang till past 7; had a "Sin Fronteras" reunion with Ducky Sara and occasionally Milagros. Kim walked by and we entreated her to join us and she said "not on pain of death" or something of the sort. As much as we complained about the singing team I think we were all genuinely fond of it, except for Kim. :D Good times. It was very nice to sing with them again because after all those years of practice and performance you end up singing the same way and it all fits so much better than random people singing together. I was happy.

Oh but before this sing-a-long time I had to take a shower with Heidi to offer friendly support in the face of the mold and the cold and everything. There was a lot of screaming, and verbal banter. Heidi says the funniest things when confronted with cold water.

Heidi: "YOU go in!"

Rachel: "No, YOU go in!"

Heidi: "No!"

Rachel: "It's not going to get any warmer, you know."

Heidi: "Well, it might--"

Rachel: "No, it won't! Now get in the shower!"

Heidi: "You get in first!"

Rachel: "Fine. *steps into the half-hearted trickle of freezing water* AAAAAAAAAA IT"S COLD!! AAA AAA AAA AAAAAAA....ok...God it's REALLY cold....ok. *chatter-shiver-chatter* Now get in."

Heidi: "Rachel I caaaaan't, I caaaaan't...ok...ok...oh my god I CAN"T DO THIIIIS I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this...ok one, two three! *steps into freezing water* oh GOD! Oh, well this is just HEAVENLY! Aaah what the flip dude...it's really cold."

Sadly even when the water is frigidly unpleasant Heidi still takes dastardly long showers, and naturally needs moral support the whole time so I had to freeze a good deal more than was necessary.

"Ok I'm DONE, can I go already?!"

"NO! YOU'LL STAY HERE FOREVER!!"

I ended up abandoning her anyways about 2/3 of the way in and she had to make do with me telling her I was "right here" every 4 seconds. It takes her about 2 seconds after I say I'm right here to doubt my presence and ask again.

"Rachel are you there?"

"Yes I'm right here."

"Ok don't go away."

"I won't."

(1, 2--)

"Rachel are you there?!?"

What fond memories.

So then we had dinner, and I believe this is where I met Jason the Dutch cousin--standing in line, that is, because dinner was always late and so people would start standing in line at the right time whether there was food or not. Actually that might have been the first day. But no matter--I mention him because he plays a swell role in one of the story arcs of this grand epic.
During the whole camp I was very lucky to have a merry band of friends that you feel you are always invited to stand with in their circle. Ours was comprised of Heidi, Mindy, David, Cindy, Marky, and myself I think. And we had a lot of frequent visitors, like Isaac and the minors and Tim and such. Twas a real joy.

After so many camps I realized why they call them "social circles"--get 200 people in a space, many of whom know each other, and they will literally form scores of different sized circles, and talk in them. They're not always perfect circles, and they may be formed of sitting, standing, leaning or otherwise situated people, but they're always circular, and they have varying degrees of open or closed-off-ed-ness. But it was a real comfort, because whenever there wasn't any circle-less stragglers to talk to, I just had to seek out our happy collage of friends and they were always strangely glad to see my off-putting face. You guys are the best. When I rule the world you shall have villas and slaves and gold for your niceness.

Anyways, so once dinner was done (during which time I tried quite unsuccessfully to garner the truth out of Jason as to where his completely strange accent came from), I wandered hither and thither until I wound up in front of a very small tent from which Heidi's legs were protruding. So I crawled in after her and met the minors, who owned the tent. I think their names were Richard and Eric, I can't remember, but overall they were very nice people. Mindy and David were in there too, being unhelpful and not contributing to the conversation. I had a really good joke to go here. Oh well. They were watching that zombie movie on a laptop...I forget what it's called, but we saw the last 10 minutes of that, over which time Jason, Sam Voloninno, and some other people whose faces and names I forget piled in as well. I think Jesse Cline and Cindy and Marky might have been there but I can't remember. Anyways by the end of the movie there was 11 people in a 2-man tent. Most exciting. Resident Evil! that's what it was called.

After it ended someone--I think it was David--said, "WOAH, Jason" and everyone laughed a lot. I was spacing out so I don't know why he said it, or why it's funny, but from then on we started referring to Jason as Wo-Jason, since there were a few other ones I think. "Which Jason?" "You know, WO Jason." "Oh yeah that one ahahah". Like so. We also started heralding him with it whenever he walked past us. Worked out well.

So then we saw Alice in Wonderland in a most curious fashion--we started at the middle, watched till the end and then went to the beginning and watched till the middle. Lots of fun and commentating. Very squishy, but I used people as pillows and all was well.

After the movie was done we all settled in for the night. Well not all of us--some people left, but 8 or 9 of us were still in there. Certain people were talking far too loudly; it being 2:30 in the morning by this point and thus a half-hour past curfew we wanted to keep it down. Most of the conversation was people yelling and other people saying "Shut up!!" and giving various warnings about the adults getting us in trouble for loudness. I was one of the shushers.

Sadly our work was in vain. At this moment Jason's father Jeremy decided to stand in front of our tiny tent-lair and demand in a very scary voice, "Who is in that tent?" (Jeremy's one of these talented grown-ups that can make you feel like you're 9 years old and you've been caught going through the freezer looking for ice cream, or in the hallways with an evil-doing buddy at 11:52 at night, just by looking at you).

Well that shut everyone up marvelously quick. The whole tent froze and everyone exchanged fearful and/or appreciative-of-the-humorous-circumstances glances.

"Eric and Richard, I thought when we discussed the tent situation that you were very adamant about this being a two- man tent."

*Frozen, slightly guilty silence from all within*

"Lights-out was a half-hour ago--everyone clear out of this tent now."

Well eventually people started to move, say goodbye and goodnight, make quiet jokes and crawl out of the tent depart, which was rather unnerving since Jeremy held a dogged stance right outside the tiny tent door. And so I quickly and quietly went to bed, and was rather peeved because the little tent where we hosted our out-of-it ness was a lot comfier than mine, even with a billion people in it. They had a padded floor, and since my mattress and pillow were both lost to fate I had to sleep with a sweater and a sleeping bag for pillow and mattress, and it was very cold and unpleasant. The end.

Or IS IT? Stay tuned for more exciting adventures!

"Ra, ra, ra, ra, BOOM dyay, ra ra ra ra BOOM dyay, la da dee dee da da dum, dum dum...."

"RA RA RA RA BOOM dyay, RA RA RA RA BOOM dyay, la da dee dee da da dum, dum da da dum..."

Another Teen Day is on the horizon

2009-11-17T15:07:00.000-08:00

That's what she said....not really....anyway

God save us. The end. Uhh....it promises to be the usual small gathering of angsty randomites trying to pass themselves off as stoic, with lots of excluding and not-talking, which is why there's usually major substance abuse. Very sad. Lord help all the angst-givers. We're going to have a sleepover. I'm really excited. You can tell by all the exclamation marks that would be there, if the exclamation marks key wasn't broken on this keyboard. I also can't say number one. I can say 5 though ...exclamation marks go there.... yup. The, end.

Dad and I ate celery sticks and drove up to Mom's house, and I got a fever and there was much mistreatment. And that's about that. Most pleasing to the Lord. Now Nyna and Julie are going to do awesome blossom stomach workouts. Yaaaay. Bye now

Cervantino, Part 2: Plus-size attitudes and getting lost, again

2009-11-07T19:45:00.000-08:00

So I woke up and there I was, hopelessly trapped between a cactus, and a filch with handcuffs......

Actually it was the wall, and Windy. But I wanted to make it adventurous for you. Btw the Windy and filch comparison is of course a complete coincidence. Windy is not a filch. Windy is a lady. Anyways the point is we woke up, and dragged ourselves from sleep and beds, to go to the campsite. And this is where I made my way alone after Windy and Nyna went with a different team, so as to be under the ever-helpful chaperonage of Vas.

Nyna and Vas were my chaperones. And let me state for the record that their occasional presence filled mine with mentorly light and pseudo-parental wisdom and truths upon its every dawning. I feel very blessed to have been under the supervision of such gentle, nurturing souls. And God bless them for agreeing to keep me safe from the swarms of lustful, seductive, and deathly attractive senior teen boys in the prime of their sexuality that were of course prowling at me from all sides.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA

Ahem. This is a lie. The experienced traveler on the journey of life should be able to deduce this because 1) the general populace of senior teen boys, while lustful, are neither seductive nor attractive, and if they really are in the prime of their sexuality, well.....God help the world and 2) People don't prowl at me, even sad teenage boys with no options. No, I'm going to grow up and be one of those funny fat people that's actually really sad, but has to stay cheery because that's their defining characteristic, and no one likes morose fat people. Or maybe I'll get famous and be funny until the media gets bored of that and then I'll have a nervous breakdown, go on Oprah and become a self-help icon for all fat women of the modern age. "She's so brave, to embrace her fat image!" And then I'll be in magazines posing in plus-size cashmeres and enormous dark jeans, smiling my fat smile with some cheesy pun-filled headline above my head. "Rachel Kelly--larger and loving it! The plus-size girl with a plus-size attitude dishes out her no-nonsense secrets--and the leftover Mac'n Cheese--exclusively to Trendsy!!"

Ok that's it Paula has to move her modern-woman books out of my room. I have my entire fat-woman icon article about my future large-and-in-charge self floating in my head, right now. Watch me get committed to some sort of rehabilitation center, and you can blame Paula and her weirdo books. Let's steer back to the title topic at hand.....this is why I couldn't write for a living--if it's not in my head, I can't really pull it off on paper. Right now I'd have an easier time starting my own magazine called Trendsy and then writing my own article about "loving a larger woman" and the courage it takes to be a fat person living in a skinny world. Perhaps next post.

I had a most enjoyable ride from the SGA Home to the Creature Home. Made two whole new friends! In Su and one of the myriad Michaels. They shall be referred to hence as Small Sweet Su and Mexico City Micheal. Or not. But those are their titles. I've decided to give everyone honorary titles for clarity and amusement.

Guadalajara was pretty and green. I like pretty and green cities as a general rule, except for Joplin, cause it's filled with psycho mutant insects that have no place on God's earth. But Guad has a lot of tunnels, and I got to demonstrate my powers of holding my breath under them for long periods whenever there was a lull in the conversation. We talked about medical school while Chris Romanian and Vas sang very loosely interpreted lyrics of Jason Mraz songs, in distracted and slightly off-key voices. Then they talked about music and the Family vision. In fact, almost every time I was within earshot of Vas in the following week, he was talking about music and the Family vision, with a friendly uncle or grooving, spaced-out, inspired-about-everything-because-they're-not-paying-attention band member.

Those band members really crack me up. Because they're so overly inspired about the world with their music playing, as long as you lead off with something music-related, they will nod with enthusiasm the entire time you're speaking and their response will be one of total agreement and "chilled"ness. You could go right up to one and say, "You played really well. Also, your venereal disease seems to be coming along really nicely. Can I marry you?" And they would say, "Oh, thank you....it's really amazing what the Lord is doing! Yeah, it's really cool how all this is coming together....*space out space out*...and, yeah, really inspiring!" "The arrangements were really nice, it sounded super good. Can a pineapple officiate at our wedding, because if we have to get a regular parson I might go back on Prozac. I hate parsons so much." "Ah, thanks man, for sure....yeah.....super cool.....it's really awesome!" Ah, for airhead musicians. Fun times.

Then we spent a few slow, awkward hours at the Creature Home. Slow because Vas kept finding eager listeners to talk to about music and the Family vision, and so was unable to load the band equipment into the van. Awkward because I never feel the slightest bit at ease in other people's houses, and because they fed us lunch when I was pretty sure they didn't have enough food as it was. Su had to force me into a chair to play Hangman because I hate sitting on other people's furniture, even more than I hate other people sitting on my furniture. It's their furniture!! They put it there, purposefully and specifically for them, and they obviously don't want random people to use it.....but I hope to get over this one day and have a free-for-all on furniture-sitting with wild abandon, when I find my Zen or whatever they're calling it these days.

Anyways this is when Isaac decided to saunter into the room and challenge us to a volley of brainteasers and mind games, which gave me a very bad headache. Another testament to why I shall fail public school. I accidentally called him a retard. I opened my mouth to say something else and it just flew out with no warning, probably out of habit, and there was a long, tentative silence from everyone and then I remembered that it's not good form to call people you don't know retards. Very embarrassing and the first of many foot-in-mouth moments. In my defense my brain was travel-worn and sleep-deprived, but no one else knew that so I just looked like a very weird and rude person for the rest of the venture. PTL.

So eventually we ate this Home's food, which I compensated for by eating as little as possible without them insisting I eat more, which the non-retarded Retard noticed and pointed out, which was not helpful, and then someone put on The Man Who Knew Too Little, which was quite joyous save for Vas' band practice drowning out all the good lines with passionate cries to "Descubrete". And after much sitting, fidgeting, and discussing lines from the Scary Movie series, we departed. After loading and unloading the gigantic van a few times, to make everyone's luggage fit. Which it did, barely.

So then there was the car ride. It was squishy, and someone put on Ice Age 3 in the row in front of us, which I had just seen on the plane, but it was still pleasant. Outside the whole way was absolutely gorgeous--lots of greenery. I live in a scrub brush desert ocean land, so greenery is much appreciated. I twisted my leg in such a contortion to fit in the van that for about five days afterward I couldn't move it painlessly. Most intense. So Small Sweet Su and I chatted for a spell, and I looked at the back of everyone's heads, and was pleased to note that no one could look at the back of my head because we were in the fourth row, and alternated these musings with pushing the luggage falling on our heads back into the trunk area, and staring out the window listening to music of questionable origin.

This went on for several hours. We got lost, as trips with me in them tend to do, and spent a good deal of time wishing ourselves to the camp, while driver Chris leaned out the window and asked "Aguas Buenas??" to pedestrians who didn't seem to be going anywhere, who of course all knew exactly where Aguas Buenas was, and proceeded to give very specific and completely wrong directions to the place. Some of you know what I'm talking about. Nothing like 12 backseat drivers in a huge, stuffed, rickety van on unfamiliar territory. Communications between the rows were tense. There were a good deal of landmark discussions.

"Everyone keep your eyes peeled for a big yellow building!!"

(Each person points to a large yellow building that the van is crawling by, and, each person thinking they're being enormously helpful and observant, says after a few moments of silence):

"THAT yellow building?"

(Chris and/or the rider replies to each of the 10 helpful queries in turn):

"No, I don't think it's that one."

(Someone who hasn't been paying attention starts to tune in and tries to decidedly fix the situation): "Are we lost? What are we looking for?"

(Weary traveler): "Yellow building."

*Pause*

"THAT yellow building?"

Needless to say we were very grateful when we finally did get to the campsite. It was almost dark but I took comfort in the fact that Nyna and Windy had gotten there first and so the tent was already set up. Took a long time pulling everyone's bags out of the van since they were sort of stuffed like sardines up in there, but at long last I got my luggage and all was well. Except that this is the point in the venture where I lost my roll-up mattress. Thankfully I was too concerned about not having any clothes to really notice.

Then there was merriment and all manner of randomness. Kim gave me hugs and kisses and we high-fived in joy. Nina and Finch skipped up and said hello, which was nice. My cousin Prince John sprained his thumb trying to put a wristband on me and then had to redo it because he'd forgotten I was a minor and so had given me black instead of blue. I'm happy to say he doesn't look like Tom Cruise in Risky Business anymore. Heidi ignored someone trying to greet her in order to rush up and hug me, which was flattering, and Shinji looked almost happy to see me, which is about as happy as he ever looks being all stoic and reflective as he is and such. Hiroshi was clutching a very ugly blanket and trying to defend its honor from people calling its cleanliness into question by insulting their mothers. I hugged Shelley, and Mariana, and about 25 people I'd never seen before in the check-in. Marky had someone I didn't know hanging off his right side but gave me a hug anyways, and four people jumped on my back or into my arms without my knowledge or consent, as per an old custom we had in Monterrey.

I was in a lot of pain after that. Slowly turning with hands full of suitcases just in time to see Sam Fuller running full speed for a vault and landing full force on your back, having to catch him, retain balance, and not make constipated faces due to being in public, after two dreadfully long days of traveling, is not a very good method of winding down. Shortly after a fourth person who I was too dazed to exactly see bounced up and said, "Rachel! Can I jump on your back?" And I said, "No, thank you, it already died on the second person and then this dunderhead *punch Fuller* hopped on with no warning, so I'm a little maxed out. Perhaps tomorrow."
Fuller: "The trick is not to give her any warning. It worked for me!"
*punch Fuller again*

And then I wandered towards the tents, looking for our campsite. Leyland wandered up and took about half a minute to fully register who I was, and that was fun. Then I ran into Windy, who looked flushed and as excited as a ladylike person can look. And she showed me where our tent was, and I mourned the loss of my pillow, which was in the bag that the airline lost.

And this post is looking to be nigh obese, so I will save the rest for Part 3. I'm pretty sure we just went to sleep at this point anyways. To be continued. Please comment if these stories are overly long and/or detailed, and/or not really funny enough to be rambled on for 15 paragraphs. I wouldn't have ratings without you crazy kids. Love you!!

Also, to disclaim, I have nothing against senior teen boys--they're just one of the many things that's begging for easy ridicule. I do against Joplin, though. The end.

Cervantino, Part 1: "You flight.....gone. Gone, you flight. You need, a new flight."

2009-11-04T21:58:00.000-08:00

Oh yeah......I'm back.....bitches.....

Let's start at the beginning. (A very good place to start).

And don't you think I don't know you're thinking about Maria singing with the children on the grassy hill, but you'd best put it out of your head because it has nothing to do with the story, and if you have the song running up in there now, well that's your own fault for being a OC in the combo days. Also I should warn you that I spent hours writing this up in my head on the way back to relieve sadness and boredom, and I feel this is going to be the mother of long posts and I'm already a long poster, so if you have any hunger pangs, or bathroom or sexual needs, you might want to take care of that before you embark on this verbal venture. On with our tale.

In a small town in provincial France one morning, I came out of my Swiss-chalet-looking house in a dashing blue dress and a basket on my arm singing gaily about a little town, filled with little people....

Ahhh damnit that's my imaginary life where I'm Belle and I get to marry an enchanted prince. I confuse it with my real life sometimes. Let's try that again.

At 4:30 on Monday morning I was dragged mercilessly from my very warm bed to a very cold van, and until I remembered why I was all fists and screams of rage.

That's more like it!! Filled with angst and drastic temperature changes, that's my life. Anyways.

The first part of this tale is the airport. First due to bad information we stood in the wrong mile-long line for 45 minutes and had to be sent to another one upon arriving to the front of it. Then we had to pay overweight fees on our absurdly large amount of luggage upon making it to the front of the correct line. I started counting and then got depressed so I don't know exactly how many, but it was between 8 and 15 pieces. This is why girls should never camp, especially not in groups...but I digress. It should be made public that 12 dollars of this fee came from my own pocket and saved the whole team much time and disgrace. Because I'm just that awesome.

Also the whole time we were working out fines and missionary discounts the token creepy Mexican man that is a must for these journeys made his debut appearance. I honestly was expecting him to show up on a different leg of the trip but apparently ours was real eager to get right out there and start his eerie disturbances, so Fate and Karma threw him a bone and plopped him in our midst right from the start. Our particular model had a bright pink, green and yellow polo shirt with hues straight from Charlie the Unicorn, and a goatee, and naturally made a great show of stroking it with fat brown fingers while raising his oily manicured eyebrows in what can only be described as a "I'm coming hither whether you like it or not" face. And he inched closer the whole time Nyna was pleading our case with the airline people, and when he was getting too close for comfort I switched sides. As the creepy Mexican man he had no choice but to also switch sides five seconds after me and resume his inching. If ever I see him again I'll be torn between pushing him into a very deep hole and telling him to quit his day job and start doing birthday parties or something. Creepy-ass genius. Anyways he plays more of a role in this tale later and triggered the following conversation:

"Guys....creepiest person in the universe at 6 o'clock!"

*Everyone looks behind them*

"No, my 6 o'clock."

"Do you mean 9 o'clock?"

"No, I mean 6 o'clock. My one. Yours is different."

"Well, duh, but it goes *infers with hands* 12, 3, 6, 9--"

"No, no it doesn't, it's the other way."

"No, it's *infers with hands* 12, 3, 6,--"

"He's getting closer!!!"

This went on for a good while longer, while the manager was trying to turn 200 lbs of luggage into 100 lbs by fair means or foul. Just another example of why the three of us should never travel together, what with everyone's skewered sense of clock dimensions.

Well once these luggage issues got resolved the three of us took turns being in very bad moods and getting lost and eating weird airport food until we got to the right gate. There was a bar next to the line, which was too long to stand in so we determined to sit at one of the bar tables to rest our tired selves. Creepy Mexican man had maneuvered himself into the table adjoining the last empty one. That rank, pudgy cretin had some sort of divine cosmic backup, I just know it. Anyways we sat there and ignored nonverbal advances until we finally got in line, and I ogled the Green Label while Windy said things in overly quiet tones and Nyna sat on a chair and slept upright until her head fell upon which it would jerk up and she would fall asleep again. This happened around 30 times. It was very entertaining. Except she heard us laughing at it 10 feet away from her somehow and she was not so entertained about it.

So then we got on the plane.....which was very plane-like--that is to say, small, cramped, and filled with ugly people. I guess good-looking people take trains or have private jets that they earned through their good-lookingness, because there's never any on planes. You never hear about "that hot girl that was on the plane". Or maybe it's just small Mexican planes that have this deficit and I'm the only one not getting a piece of the eye candy flying around everywhere. But somehow I doubt it. Anyhoo Candy-Mountain-Polo man got a seat in the row across from ours, where he sat languidly eating peanuts and trying to score a more prominent spot in our peripheral vision.

However the rest of the flight was not bad. Drinks were good, food was very airliney but it was free so who cares, and they had a movie. In English. Kudos to them for not playing "Era de Hielo, Parte 3: Madrugada de los Day-no-saurs". For our non-Mexican readers that's a literal translation of Ice Age 3. Cause that's what they played. And I hadn't seen it because when I tried to watch it on my freenight I could only get as far as the jungle scene where appears creatures with eyes on stalks.....since that's my worst phobia and there was no one to call me a moron and force me to continue watching I turned it off immediately and spent the rest of the night jumping at my own shadow and trying not to think about it. But as it turns out the eyes on stalks only show up for about 10 seconds so I was saved, and spent the rest of the flight in fear-free bliss.

So then we landed in Mexico City, and spent our wait in the airport fighting with airport security trying to get back into the fun part of the airport which we couldn't re-access for "international reasons", and finally settling for the boring part of the airport and sipping deathly expensive drinks, which I still need to pay Windy back for. I spent all my own money on overweight fees. But they made whisky sours with real orange juice, and gave us throw-away swizzle sticks. And they were awesome. I kept mine. Oh and we had a bowl of melted cheese with tortillas, a sort of make-your-own-quesadilla thing. And it was pretty darn yummy. Nothing like good food with good drinks for a pick-me-up. Also we had an out-of-it Cosmo and silly Mexican MTV to laugh at, so all was well. For a bit.

So then we leisurely made our way back to our gate, whereupon we were informed that we had been going by Tijuana time, which is two hours earlier than Mexico City time, and so were consequently two hours late for our connecting flight to Tijuana, and so had missed it. Nyna deals with stressful situations by talking more, and Windy deals with them by not talking at all, and I rotate between laughing at the whole thing and then having tiny nervous breakdowns and being unable to breathe properly, and so it was very difficult to work the whole thing out. Between the language barrier which I couldn't help with because I was laughing and choking on air, and evil Mexico City airport officials, and being in an unfamiliar airport, we probably zig-zagged across the whole flipping terminal getting unhelpful information and having calamity freak-outs. Worst part was probably the "bilingual" airport lady who insisted on repeating over and over, "You...fly....gone. Flight is gone. You need...a new.....flight." with hand motions depicting flying up and eyebrows raised unnaturally high, while we explained to her over and over that we did in fact know that our flight had left. And then she would start again and turn to her coworker and say "They don't understand me, these stupid people" in patronizing tones in Spanish, and then refuse to understand me when I told her I'd heard that. Dreadful, dreadful woman. Nerves and tensions were high but at last we got in a line for missed flights.

I felt more sorry for the poor man behind us though, because it wasn't his fault he had missed his flight and he was very frustrated and angry and quite unable to do anything about it. Also his phone died in the middle of what seemed to be an important call which further pissed him off. Also he was Spanish, and I often get mistaken for being Spanish so I feel a weird sort of bond with them. I prayed for his trip cause he looked like he would have appreciated a gun to shoot the flight people, and then himself with, multiple times. Hope he got wherever he was going, which I can't remember. It was either Cancun or an unpronounceable Aztec-named city that starts with T.

Anyways, after more haggling, and waiting, and silently picturing our respective traveling partners hanging over hungry mutant eels by a shredding rope, we made it onto another flight. Dear Mike Newton, who was supposed to pick us up, waited three hours for us, and we never showed up because we had missed our flight. God bless him, he came back for us but I'm getting ahead of myself. At this point the airline hasn't lost my bag yet, and we still haven't had the cart fiasco.

So we got off the plane, and went down to baggage, worn and spent, praying we wouldn't have to get a taxi which we had no money for, to the Home whose location we didn't know in the least. In comes our baggage, and my suitcase is not there. In its place is an unfamiliar duffel bag with my first name on it, filled with black and pink spandex and leopard prints. After repeatedly assuring the luggage people that it wasn't mine, and giving in to laughing just a little about the Amy Winehouse wardrobe, and considering running away with the other person's bag and "reinventing myself" with heinous clothes, I filled out a lengthy report on the whole affair and they promised to call us if they found it.

Then we got stuck with our absurdly numerous pieces of baggage again, and so had to load them on a cart. We were heading lifelessly for the exit to get out of this Green-Door-Airport evil, feeling a sort of hopeless, "perhaps now we're free at last" sense of the end of all this woe, when we were stopped by a security guard because we had to switch carts, because there were inside carts and outside carts, and we couldn't use the outside carts without the help of an old crotchety man, and the old crotchety man required a mandatory tip for his services. And at this point we'd been traveling for about 16 hours, and I was still wrapping my head around not having any clothes of my own for a week, was broke from tipping randomites, and felt a real hatred for airports and air-people, and then I knew just how the Spanish man in the missed flights line felt, because I would have very much appreciated a gun to shoot the security guard, and the crotchety old man, and myself with, multiple times.

This is the REAL reason they don't allow weapons in airports. They invented terrorism as the face of evil to protect the dastardly airport workers, because it's logical that they'd be killed off pretty quick by overtired and overstressed civilians snapping from having to submit to their ridiculous lines and paperwork and unhelpful services and everything else, if these overtired civilians happened to have weapons on them. It's also why they ban tiny, inane objects you could use as weapons. The desperate and angry mind can make something hurtful from pretty much anything. Halfway into the security guard's first annoyed sentence I was already mentally fixating on a pencil and a travel-size toothpaste tube in my purse and dying to stab and scratch into someone's head, and calculating how much damage I could do adding 3 yards of dental floss into the equation.

Thankfully I'm not a savant, so these death-causing thoughts took a fair bit of time to accumulate, and while I was in Imagination Land scheming about a tiny nun-chuck device with my dental floss, Nyna and Windy were being helpful and working out the cart retardation, and somehow got me outside before I could attack a civil servant. God bless them. And then Mike Newton came back for us, probably against his better judgment. God bless him. If we were in the wild we'd have been killed off by natural selection a long time ago, and I think Mike's primal instincts were telling him that we were good-for-nothing unhelpful blips in the food chain and probably a few fries short of a Happy Meal. That's what my primal instincts were telling me. But decency apparently overrode his survival senses, because he came and got us, and did not call us idiots to our faces; something I would have done right off the bat in his position, probably as a first greeting.

There we arrived. We unloaded bags, and met the Home's very nice people and very nice dogs, who didn't like me. Just the dogs, I mean; but I probably had leftover bad spirit vibes from plotting to off the security guard. And Nyna got the first shower and if there was any hot water, she used it all, because from here on after began the saga of cold showers for Windy and I. And my shampoo and conditioner were both pressurized from the plane and kind of exploded all over the place when I opened them, which was not very helpful. But I managed to find a pair of pajamas in the bag the airport didn't lose, and that was a great comfort. Mike gave us his room to sleep in--another sign of his overly intensive good graces. I had a very hard time falling asleep in it because his gorgeous whisky collection was staring at me all night. He had the Scotch.....and the Bourbon...and the Irish Whiskey....and it was the most wonderful thing I'd seen all month prior. From left to right it went Gold Label, Green Label, Gentlemen Jack, a fourth bottle with an unfamiliar brand, and Jameson, and I'm pretty sure I'm missing one but I can't remember what it was. And they were gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. And I didn't so much as touch the shelf they were on so as not to disturb their wonderous beauty but I could not stop staring. I can still see them now......sigh. Maybe someday as a sign of my success when I'm old and legal I'll have my own collection.

Anyway once I got over the whisky shelf enough to close my eyes for small periods, I fell asleep very fast.

And on this note, I have to go because it's very late and I have to get up in 3 and a half hours to go shopping across the border. I sacrificed all my sleep for this post!! Seems sad since no one reads the long ones but we'll see what the Lord does. I claim the keys of 3-hours-of-sleep-turned-into-9. Which is now a real key cause they get created when you claim and invent them spontaneously. Everyone should call on it, a lot. That's got to be one of the most handy things about the keys, especially for people with weird needs and bad memories, like me! Huzzah!

Love you all, very much. Nighty-night, stay in touch.
Am I tired? Yes I am. Tired as a little lamb.

nyahahaha. "Here comes Peter crawling down a rope but it's not Peter cause it's SPIDERMAN!! SPIDERMAN!!"

"Not today Rice!!!" "Tomorrow, pasta!"

2009-10-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

Attention peons!!

For the next week I will be gone to "Camp Cervantino". It sounds like the new policy is treating 16-year-olds like 6-year-olds, and as a 16-year-old I think I will be shunned and corralled into a room filled with Bibles and soft pillows. But perhaps not! We shall see.

Our long-awaited supernatural-themed Halloween party was last night. I dressed as the Big Bad Wolf, and then got sad because I was not beautiful like all the other girls. I seem to do that every year. But no matter! I will resist my dumbo nature and continue to dress for humor not beauty. Huzzah!

The next day Emi and I did what we do best. We watched football. We watched inordinate amounts of football, and we spent the better half of the day in this fashion. I made a huge pot of Mac'n'Cheese, Emi made Tom Collinses, and we sat and feasted and high-fived and cheered Pittsburg on to victory. GO STEELERS!! They beat the Vikings. We called them ViQueens because their uniforms were purple. Yaaaay! And then there was the Cowboys and Falcons. The Falcon's coach looks like an angry Steve Martin on steroids. He's fun to watch. :D

We laughed for 1 down and an entire commercial break non-stop after having the title conversation. It hurt our stomachs, what with all the Mac and Cheese and everything. Anyhoo, everyone pray that it will not rain too much, that I will not get in trouble doing something accidentally weird, and that Santi decides to stop being such a little randomite and show up to visit Heidi, Kim and me sometime before we're shipped back. Yes.

That's about it I think. Falalalala, lalalala HEY!

I'm making an elephant.

2009-10-20T17:52:00.000-07:00

And that's the TRUTH!

This post is mostly to get rid of the "All Alone" post cause that shouldn't be at the top. Everyone pray I can get necessary ingredients for my Halloween costume, as the party is this Saturday. Yipee!

"The hills are aliiiive with the sound of muuuusiiic..."
"yeah well so is your FACE"

All alone

2009-10-13T22:15:00.001-07:00

My head hurts and I feel all alone. Help!! I don't like being by myself!

"I have no IDEA who Keith is!!!"

2009-10-11T19:56:00.000-07:00

You won't get it. Don't bother reading it again, it's too long a story and telling it would involve mocking people on the Internet, which I'm trying to cut back on. So we'll see how that goes.

In other news, all peons are to give a warm welcome to our newest reader, my very own sister Julia!! Either she became more forgiving of my mentalness or I became less out-of-it, but stuff here makes her laugh at times, which is real swell, cause she's nice. I edit her essays with big red lines and comments!

By the way this also means that no one can make any comments about my drug problem. Just kidding! Oh this will be fun.

So I watched Beauty and the Beast today and it occurred to me that it'd be the bomb to be imprisoned in a castle with a tall rich bad-tempered beasty person and weird enchanted anthropomorphic servants that like you cause you're a girl. I should make it a point to have this happen to me. Although I guess I'd have to grow up in a provincial town in France to fit the profile....sigh. Watch me have the first arranged inter-dimensional marriage with Boris Yeltsin, and have no hope of escape that he'll die because he's already dead. Woe is me!!!
Also with my weird animal cartoon character studies the whole scheme fits quite nicely...ahh for the love of Balto and Kovu! And the Beast, who is much more awesome than either of them. His tail is nicer and he can roar. I guess Kovu can roar but he never does, and he's into weird people like Kiana, who is a total douche and calls Simba Daddy even when she's old.

I'm a crazy person. Woe is me!!! Woe befalls and becomes me and I am WOE! Yeahy-yeah (Godfrey style)

I cut onions today and didn't cry but I should have because now my nose and eyes feel painful and pressury. Also Nick is back from the war. He keeps screaming "Pie in the hole!!!" and then diving under nearby pieces of furniture. The first thing he said when I saw him was "Hey. do you have any beer?". Nick is a bothersome wigglewort. Write that down.

I bought a dress and it is grey. Tadaa! I also bought grey shorts and a grey shirt. I figure shopping updates is different so we'll just slap that up here for variety.

I feel very woeful. I miss Christy and Stephy, and my sisters. Also Windy is supposed to be up here watching Supernatural with me and is not. Also everyone is being loud and sentimental from having lots of wine and I feel rather out of the loop with my woefulness.

What to say, what to say.....ooh it was the exTENDed version of Beauty and the Beast. I didn't even know they had one--it has a whole new song and you find out the Prince never learned to read! Which is alright because he was cursed when he was 11 but still that's a late reader.

"Ok....uh...toe.." "Um, two." "Right, two. I knew that. Two, households..."

I want to live there!! I shall weep for lack of very tall castles and anthropomorphic household objects and ten-foot-tall creatures that eventually become your husband and rule the world!! Weep weep.

Ok I'm going to find real people so that this wishing for said castles and ten-foot-tall creatures will go away. Sadly all the real people are imbibed. Probably because they have no castles or ten-foot-tall creatures that fight entire packs of wolves just for them. Sniff. Perhaps off to bed then.

Song of the day is Sullivan Street.

Take the way hoooome that leads back to Sullivan Street.....

I'm almost drowning in her sea
She's nearly crawling on her knees
It's almost everything I need
I'm down on my knees,
I'm down on my knees.

Nighty night.

Friends

2009-10-11T19:13:00.000-07:00

10/09/09
Emi says:
man it sucks I thought I was taking Kizzy's shift from 9 to 4 and now I find out I'm actually doing 10 to 5 and I have to stay an extra hour
Rachel says:
aw that does suck
Rachel says:
sorry man
Emi says:
you know what else sucks?
Emi says:
vacuums
Rachel says:
suckerfish!!!
Rachel says:
oh that too
Emi says:
black hole
Rachel says:
straws
Emi says:
your FACE
Rachel says:
Republicans
Emi says:
hahahaha
Rachel says:
ahahaha

To good friends that live close by (the best kind). All the rest of you are basically in shun mode until you move to California and live with me forever!! But I still love you.

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun.'"

More words! Don't you just love them!?!?! I know I do!!!

2009-09-26T01:26:00.000-07:00

Hello, peons. So conglomerations are in order!!!

Conglomerate is a much funner word then congratulate. Funner to type too. And unlike funner, it's a real word! Yay for nerds and nerdness!

Anyway, I would like to honor, or conglomerate, my good friend Christy for being the only person to ever comment on here, which probably means she's also the only person to ever read it. Except for Heidi, with her weird Internet that can't comment. It's hard to digest.

I'm tired...and very scared of clowns...remind me never to watch Supernatural at night. Ever. Good God the clowns!! aaah i am frightened. Why is no one here to un-frighten me....it is because I am an old fart who will die young, and only a truly bad person could pull that off. It's logical! Your face is not logical. But neither is mine.

What's new.....i have a cat! I don't like it very much and only keep it because I don't have the guts to throw it out on the street where it belongs...it decided to follow me home the other day and was most disturbing. Theoretically the whole situation is very uncomely and I don't like it, and yet some leftover motherly instinct must have lived through my de-niceitizing. The rest of it got used up on Santi. Anyways, although the 11-year-old within me is currently in control and fawning over the nasty little thing, right will prevail and it will be far away eventually. Till then I'm washing and feeding it and it is not pleasant. Although it's cute in an ugly way. It's name is Dunder Mifflin. I figured it doesn't apply in the "if you name it you start loving it" scheme because it has the namesake of a fictional paper supply company. So it doesn't count.

Also, I have a wish list on Amazon, which was a bad idea. Online shopping is detrimental to one's health. And that's about it.

Dream on, little star-sweeper! Dreeeeam ooooonnn

Pray against clowns please

I found something wonderful and you should get one too!

2009-09-14T13:14:00.000-07:00

A great many wonderful things. I quit crack yesterday!

Not really, but I quit a lot of other things and cut back on still more, and did a regular spring cleaning of my soul. It felt pretty FFing-A. I'm still going to use that phrase when it expresses the sentiment and won't offend randomites, because often times nothing else quite fits.

Anyways, I resolved to do many splendid healthy things and lead a balanced life full of goodness. Because I am going to school, where I shall learn to be a REAL boy!! So this is exciting, although I have a small fear I shall be enrolled somewhere where everyone is Calvinist and I am persecuted for my non-Calvinist beliefs. I maintain that free will is good.

I have very mixed feelings about my weekend. It was long and filled with revelry, of many breeds, and it unservicable and basically the most unproductive 72 hours of my life, with the most useful activity being sleeping. But it was fun. And now I'm done. Huzzah!

On Friday, I was visited by a ghost!! No just Emi. I made Blue Hawaiians for her and Nick and we watched the game.
I have never said that on here before in my life. I watched a game! Nyahaha. I rooted for the Steelers, because they seemed to have a good spirit, which turned out to be an excellent choice because they won. But it was close, and when Hines Ward fumbled it at the 30-yard pass Emi and I were very much dismayed, and after that it was edge-of-your-seat nervewracking for the rest of the 4th quarter. But then they got a field goal against those dastardly Titans in the sudden death round, and all was well.
You know it's actually kind of fun talking about football when you don't know any of the right terms. Perhaps I should watch more games and make this a mock sports blog with lots of presumptous statements and analyses of random teams, and mix up games, scores, and the sports themselves. I can just see it now: "San Diego Bears beat the New York Gators in the Half-Time Round With Score Q-12! Bears will be in Fiji in two weeks to play the Padres in the Regional World Cup!" Giggidy.

Anyways, at the moment I don't remember what I did Saturday, and Sunday I slept, ate, and traipsed around town with Nyna trying to find a hair-dying establishment with no luck because they were all closed. And I made plum sauce. And had a nervous breakdown with Nick. He didn't have one, he was just around for mine which was helpful. He's the best brother in the whole world.

Also, I was very inspired by Martin Luther's "Concerning Christian Liberty", all about faith and works and how they tie into each other and the balance of flesh and spirit. It was really really good. Here's the link. It's really long but there it is, and from the fifth paragraph down is what spoke to me the most. And if any of you read it and like it enough to continue it, you should read the "Conclusion to the Treatise". Which is here.

And that's about it! Good days, warm meals, nice friends and happy things to you all, etc etc.

"What is this ecetera?" nyaha

We're Painting the Roses Reeeed

2009-09-12T23:15:00.000-07:00

PAINTING THE ROSES REEEED
We dare not stop
Or waste a drop
So let the paint be spread!
We're painting the roses reeeed
We're painting the roses reeeeed!

This has been in my head. All day. Granted, it's a step up from "What Makes the Red Man Red" but still it hums away in my temporal lobes, making them hurt, and if you don't know what it is then you have no taste in life and you should be caged with the naysayers on Jason's blog. Those snobby elitist fools!!

Nyahaha good thing this is a private blog otherwise I'd probably get accusations of plagiarism from the man himself, and then someone named Anonymous would get on and say something snippy and hostile, and before you know it there'd be 40 comments attacking everything and I'd probably be overrun by overeager debaters. On the other hand I'd get a downright Biblical amount of traffic on here....I don't like choices.

Anyways I got on here to talk about genders. First I'll list some facts.

There's still two of them.

Ok just one fact. Basically, I would like to be a boy, because I think I would make a very good one. For one, I would be insanely attractive.

Why? Because as the Kelly/Mlot gene pool diminished with the creation of Steph and Jules, the remaining shreds of genetic material tended towards masculinity, favoring men. Thus we have Nick--
Who looks like a man, and Rachel--

Who looks like a man.

Seeing as I already am this halvsy breed, I might as well be a boy for maximum quality. My prowess would be known throughout the land and everyone would herald me as the best guy ever. I would be a smart, handsome man and between Nick and I we would rule the world!! I would get a entire backpiece inked from my tailbone to my C3, and it would not show because all respectable male garb covers the entire back, which is just not fair. But back to being insanely attractive: I know this because somehow everybody likes Nick, and I like to think I am better looking than him. Of course being of different genders it's hard to tell, but I'd venture to say that I would be a handsome man, while Nick would be the ugliest girl I've seen in a long, long time. Good thing he's a guy and will never have to worry about this.

Also, it really tees me off how guys, upon making their rounds to all available women in the area, are endowed with the title of "ladies' men" and can become legendary, whereas if a girl does the exact same thing or even to a lesser degree, is endowed with the title of "biggest ho ever" and can become a social leper. I've seen both. It's annoying. There's also the staggeringly overwhelming guy/girl ratio in the Family and the resultant spoiled male syndrome where guys are rude and make no effort to be anything nice and still girls fall at their feet because of the man-famine, leading to budding overconfidence which blooms into arrogance. But I'm sure males have their bone to pick with us as well, and I take this oppurtunity to say I have no qualms with God for making me a girl, society for being retarded, or men for being bothersome. I was just saying it'd be good to be a guy.

Through these wishful thoughts I take comfort in being a minor. It's good to be a minor. My mommy pays for my shoes, everyone has to love me no matter what, no one notices if I don't show up for Home Council, people attribute my sleeping all day to "growth spurts" and "that thing that's going around", and I'm not allowed to take kids, because "as parents we'd feel more comfortable if they were with a real caretaker". It's the bomb. I savor my youth as a precious, precious commodity. It's a pity I have the physical motivation of a lamp because otherwise I might not die of heart failure, atrophied muscles and congested arteries before I'm 30. But we can't have everything, can we?

I had a dream I had twins. I blame Summer. I'd love to get into the vivid details of this dream but I'm very tired. Perhaps tomorrow.

Goodnight, cruel world.

"No, it was really brave, what you did! You got out there and you slit your wrists and you said, 'World, this is my blood--it's red, just like yours. So love me!!!'"

That was from The Office. Bash that line and you will bash every line The Office ever had. Don't do it.

Oh painting the roses red
And many a tear we sheeeed
Because we know
They'll cease to grow
In fact they'll soon be deead
And yet we go aheeeead
painting the roses reeed!!!

Oh pardon me
But Mr Three
Why must you paint them red???

(HUh? Oh! Well the fact is, Miss, we planted the white ones by mistake, and--)

The Queen she likes 'em red,
If she saw white instead,
She'd make a fuss
and each of us
would quickly lose his head
Since this is the part we dreeeeead
we're painting the roses red!!!

Painting the roses red
We're painting the roses red
Don't tell the Queen what you have seen
Or say that's what we said
But we're painting the roses red
Yes, painting the roses red
Not pink not green
Not aquamarine
WE'RE PAINTING THE ROOOSES REEEEEED!!!

All day. Feel the burn.

Old Stories and Rants

2009-08-29T02:54:00.000-07:00

That's right, get ready for the onslaught of my topsy turvy and, to coin a term from my sister Juila, "irreverent" thoughts. Some more of that Rolled Gold coming your way!! More like rolled pig intestines....and don't you give ME lip about how that's gross because you have probably been served just that next to the Froot Loops and the underripe fruit and the giant coffee machine, where that middle-aged lady is always trying to find a way to make the coffee come out to no avail while she creates a big line of angry fat people behind her, at a Continental Breakfast.

Yes, I've had my share of Continental Breakfasts; fresh and packaged, delicious and disgusting, righfully purchased and quietly stolen, with the sullen employees that start putting away the food right when you get to the serving table just to spite you...but they can never take away the giant coffee machine because it's nailed to the counter....so you drink all the coffee to spite them.....and then start hyperventilating and having tiny seizures because you're caffiene sensitive, at which point the Auntie you're on the road trip with gathers the troops for Word time and you can't do anything but twitch and make loud incoherent noises until you pass out. Unless of course you're not caffiene senstive, in which case you'd just go about your day in a normal road trip fashion. Being caffiene sensitive I wouldn't know what that's like.

Well, on a happier and more coherent note, I'm a free woman. I was not, for about two years, and last week, I was more or less liberated and it's a good feeling, yes it is. I'm me again!! More or less, of course, you understand. But hot damn it's an improvement!

Yaaaay!! I am not small, graceful, softspoken, mild-mannered, moral, or dignified. I have short fingernails, I'm pretty sure I snore, I look worse in the rain, I watch mediocre movies and I like loud crashy unseemly music and things that aren't awesome. And everyone can just deal with that because I don't live in a manner befitting anyone else but me anymore and it's a great great surge of joy deep in my heart.

Hey look at that I just talked about finding myself!!

It's something in the air that makes me this way,
For I could never aspire to be THAT gay.

Ahh this always happens I just want to put that one rhyme, and then I start thinking of more and more and my fingers start flying on the keys and before you know it there's a five-foot long column of beautiful poetry *sniff* like so....

My mother met a cob of corn that sang a giddy tune
They ran away and till this day we hope they come back soooooon

My cousin helped a mobster who was blind and crippled too
They beat up cars and looked at stars and now they've got a crew
Who dance on garbage pails and sing the Anthem of Peru
And they kidnapped the daughter of the Disney bear Baloo

OH my rain is falling up
And with my catfish I will sup
Until I'm eaten by a train
And then I'll say that I'm insane

I remember butterflies that flutter by along the day
And I remember pasty pies that filled up an entire bay
And I remember being very very very very gay
But now I'm free and so we'll see what everyone has got to say

and as for me I do agree....

Hurray for being ones own self and never saying things because
It's nicer or it's proper or it's got more warmth and lots more fuzz

It's rather dreadful being alone
But complaints I do not condone
Besides I've got my family
And they do such nice things for me
So I shall go to bed and see
What Jesus has inside my sleep
And I shall try quite hard to stay
Afloat inside this happy day.....

But I remember trampolines and watching stars in dark blue screens
And sleeping on a cold bench swing with blankets and the Killers screaming
'Bout weird things around and out, we knew what they were talking about
It was a starry starry night, on that December full of fright.

Aaaaand pigeons sing a merry song
About a gnome who wore a thong
And hunted for his missing bong
Because he was a crack head.

So you all meditate on this
Or read some Word, restore your bliss
Don't let my words upset you so
I never mean them true, you know

I now go to meet my pillow
As the man goes to meet his bride in the bridechamber, rejoicing
Never knowing that his bride has epilepsy
And will suffer a life filled with seizures
Which the Biblical Assyrians will mistake for demon possesion
And thus drive them out of their villages,
Making them destitute.

I go to my bed
As Aphrodite to her alabaster throne
On which she sits and......thinks about loving things, yeah
And then Indiana Jones comes and says, "Have you seen my picnic basket?"
And Aphrodite ZAPS him!!!!!
Cause she can do that!!!

It seems I've degraded to free verse and prose
But don't let that fool you cause everyone knows
That I'm the Helen Keller of rhyming on cue
And I hope in my sleep I have less stuff to do
Then sit around rhyming about randomite stuff
I shall lay in bed and perhaps snuff some snuff

Ahaha that's the French aristocracy using cocaine
Back when it was legal and not such a bane
But cocaine is bad for you yes it is.

GOing to bed
get out of my head
you evil little rhymes you silly curs and knaves
I shall have you know that I shall dance on your graves!!!

Goodnight
Sleep tight
or loose i don't care
Just sleep anywhere
anyhow, any time
let me stop this rhyme
can't stop it's compulsive
see THIS is repulsive
I have a disorder
I'm walking away now
the first step is to stop rhyming.
Okay we've done that
No nay leave none hat
aaaaaaaaaa
going to bed right NOW!!!

I seriously can't do it I need some help
Like one of my friends or a nice whale whelp
Or something or someone to put me to sleep
anything anything just don't let me keep
rhyming....must stop rhyming.....timing miming climbing dai ming

Ok that's it, i'm going i'm going i'm gone
well not yet, I'll sing a little song

Going going gone
going going gone
ahah fhalala gone going gone.....gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone....gon

fallala

2009-08-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

Me going crazy at Mom's BBQ. I'm in the cellar :D

Yes, I know, it's the classic homo "looking pensively to the side" thing....one must try these things at least once in one's life. I'm going to go shoot something....ja ne

Let's all get up and sing to a song....

2009-08-22T03:17:00.000-07:00

This is the part where I start singing "Famine for love" in Arabic at passionate volumes.....feel the spirit!

Well, I'm sooooo tired....I'm up, it's 3, all the futons are taken, and I should be sleeping because there is a long and treacherous barbeque tomorrow for all the Homes and my mother's workforce, associates and colleagues, etc. Hopefully this time none of them will approach me with "So, you're Dr. Mlot's daughter? You must be the one in the orchestra!" And yes, this has happened. How my mother lets people walk away from her with the impression that I play in an orchestra with a clear conscience I will never know.

Anyway, tiredness....and stuff.....but it is good to have Internet. Haven't had it for two weeks. Right after my long-awaited vacation was canceled, one of my best friends moved five states away, and a bunch of other unworthy fudge happened, it decided to turn off as a final blow to my delicate teenage life. I feel vulnerable!

aahaha....Lord if anyone ever said that to me and meant it....I don't know what I would do. I would want to laugh, but I wouldn't be able to cause they'd probably just get more vulnerable, and....it would not be so cool.

I'm listening to pretty songs....started running through a bunch of Beatles but they started making me nostalgic and sad so we'll stick to new pretty ones.

Well I'm going to go play gitter and maybe sleep in a chair somewhere....but I leave you with this little piece of funniness. See Christy tagged me on Facebook (Note how I'm real up to par on my social networking, getting tagged and everything!) for this thing, and I did the whole with Jon la Joie's brilliant lyrics but then I realized it had to all be song titles and he only has like 7 songs and there's like 15 questions or something....anyways too tricksy...but it was too good to throw away, so I thought I'd put it here. And actually, it's all for the best because I would have probably been accused of being a lesbian, and it's inappropriate and not something you'd want to put on Facebook anyway. Which is why this little haven exists for all my inappropriateness, which makes up most of who I am. :D Anyways enjoy. And no pondering on the lesbian issue, because unto the pure all things are pure, etc etc.

Pick Your Artist:
Jon la Joie

Are you a male or female:
Women (are only good for three things....)

Describe Yourself:
I’m like Jean Claude Van Damme,
But instead of fighting people,
I have sex with them.

How do you feel:
I don't have feelings cause feelings are gay

Describe where you currently live:
You're talking to me about stuff, why?
I'd much rather see your titties.

If you could go anywhere where would you go?
I have to go have sex with....a lot of girls.

Your Favorite Form of Transportation:
My love is like an airplane

Your Best Friend is:
Vagina (WHAT) Vagina

What's the weather like:
My love is like lightening

Favorite Time of Day:
Now you're talking bout other stuff.....why?
I'd much rather see your titties.

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Show me your genitals

What is life to you:
Really good sex moves
That I learned in China

Your last relationship:
Love is for girls and gays!

Your fear:
I'm invincible like Bruce Willis in the movie Invincible
I'm invisible like, well I'm not really invisible

What is the best advice you have to give:
Girl's brains are much stupider than men's are,
So they should always listen to us, 'cause we're smart,

Thought for the day:
Guns don't kill people
Uh-Uh
I kill people
With guns

How I would like to die:
like a fire in the nursing home

My motto:
Women are stupid, and I don't respect them,
That's right, I just have sex with them.

tee hee.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HEIDI!!

2009-07-25T09:42:00.000-07:00

I know a very NICE person whose birthday is TODAY O

T O DAY

TO DAY

I know a very NICE person whose birthday was TWO DAYS AGOOOOO

TWO DAYS A G O

TWO DAYS A G O!

I'm the worst friend ever because I missed Heidi's birthday....cause that was the day that we started the 10 year anniversary preparations and then the next day the phones weren't working and I had a bad case of pinkeye....but now all this will be arighted yes it will. Why? I don't know.

But Heidi's awesome, and all with half a brain should pay her with due reverence! High esteem and jubilation yes oh yes!!

I love you Heidi, and I hope you had an awesome birthday FILLED with pinkeye!! no no pinkeye for you....but birthday joy for you! yes yes lots of that.....and your birthday marks a most depressing anniversary for me, but in light of your holy day I shall hold my peace. I love you!! sorry I missed your bday....sigh....

You're now the DANCING QUEEN!! laaa la laaa lalala laa laaa dingding dingding dingding

Peace and poppies

10:00 in the PM and I'm just on my way to my house.....

2009-07-11T21:59:00.000-07:00

Random thoughts.....the post should be entitled random thoughts.....

Ok well now it's 10:01 but at the time it was 10 PM exactly and how often does THAT happen?

Once every twenty-four hours. THAT's how often it happens.

Watching other people play Quarters with whiskey and ice cream around here makes me unhappy. It's like having the roommate who brings home handsome strangers every night, but it's worse because in the roommate situation, you can just be like, "She'll probably get an STD and die!" No one dies in Quarters with whiskey and ice cream. No one ever does.

To the person who voted for Santi twice......I appreciate the feedback but you're a douchebag.

I'm sorry but sometimes I just want to insult people on here, and I never do cause you're all good people, but I think I need to just to let out some of those pent-up insults, lest they escape in the presence of Scary-Man.

(Albert the Asparagus Voice): "You're WRONG, Scary-Man!!!"

Scary-Man in this context refers to any and all members of my Home who are unaccustomed to being called "douchebag" by me, or anyone for that matter.

Eli, Hick, and two other unknown people are playing music downstairs......I think they're on the 15th chorus of "I shall be Released". If only.

In their defense they sound great. Except for "Hotel California", which basically was everyone playing Spirit-led combinations of Am, E, C and F at random and singing on a key worlds apart. But other than that they're very fly.

And......that's about it. I bought unholy amounts of body jewelry cause I'm redoing my ears and etc. So that should be fun....and I'm off. I'm in a very foul mood for no particular reason. Well a few particular reasons, but that's neither here nor there. oh right and

Happy Birthday Christy! You have been there for me during a pretty nasty time of my life when I was a real pain in the hoo-hah, and somehow managed to make me marginally happier. Until we'd get angry at each other for random things, but all in all you're an awesome person and a wonderful friend. I salute you. And your feathers. :D

Veronica and I had SEX last night and now we are in LOVE!!!!

2009-07-09T23:35:00.000-07:00

Too much information? I think not.

Well to move on to issues of relevance.......all who read this must pray to the good Lord and consort their puddles of propitious wonder for my dealings with the ever-nigh Mummy and Daddy, that I may visit fellow wench Summer and rejoice with her in the blessed month of August.

As a statement of valor, I intend to put a large and unsanitary turkey bone directly through both nostrils and septum of my nose if they deny me this vacation. I will barricade myself in a shed and play havoc with the ears by all those around me with my wailing. This is a weighty threat, and for those who have been spared my screeching hag-like howls, I can promise you that the CIA would have attempted to kidnap me for use on the Branch Davidians had I been born at the time. If a jackhammer, the child of Justin Spirit and a banshee, Pavarotti under torture, a baboon on crack, Kim giving birth, the sonic screaming man from Heroes, and Lincoln Burrows upon finding LJ dead with a microphone and 1 million amps were in one place at one time (now picture this and bear with me), the Olympian cacophony that would ensue is something close to what I'm describing here. I will scream, screech and shriek with such ferocity that I will in all likelihood die, and gosh darnit I'm too pretty to die!!

Ahem. All that to say......I will in all likelihood die! from one or all of the following:

- Horrific semi-truck traffic accident involving large amounts of C4 and applesauce

- Exposure to John and Debbie's bathroom

- Cialis overdose

- Staring at Chrisy's self-made over-photoshopped "18 Forever and Never Going Back" poster

- Listening to the Dixie Chicks

- Thinking about the Dixie Chicks

- Being buried alive in whatever they make Skittles out of upon breaking into a Skittles factory

- Hostage situation involving Columbian federal officers, a rabid goat, and the mayor of Bogotá

- Shootout between the entire Walker family and what I assume are evil henchmen upon breaking into the Blue Label brewery

- Shootout between the entire staff of the nearest Toys 'R Us, hired thugs of varying ethnicities, and the drug lord of Escondido

- Shootout between the characters of Winnie the Pooh and Somalian pirates....i can just see it now...

Go ahead and read the dialogue out loud and do the corresponding voices to get the full experience....maybe get a friend to provide cannon blasts and other sound FX

(Aboard the Pooh ship, amidst heavy cannonfire on the open seas)

Rabbit: "We have to stop those pirates or this boat will be sunk before any of us can say 'Hundred Acre Wood'! We need STRATEGY! And a schedule!"

Pooh Bear: "Oh bother. They seem to be shooting at us.....it does seem odd that they would not be stealing our honey....but as long as we have it, we might as well have a smackerel. Rabbit, do you have any honey? Perhaps some condensed milk?"

Piglet: "Oh d-d-d-deaar!! I haven't been addressed yet and my self-confidence is shot! I guess I'll just follow my two-dimensional character instincts and droop my ears and drag my feet to pack my things and go away because I'm too small for anything!"

Eeyore: "We're all going to die....not that living would have been any better...."

Tigger: "Say Long-ears, what's with this boat labled....let me see now.....Nail-amos pirateers doing on my open seas? Nail Amos? Who's Amos, and where are they nailing him?"

Rabbit: "SOMALIAN pirates, you dyslexic moron!! I rue the day you were stuffed! A curse on you! A CURSE ON YOUR EMPIRE!!"

Eeyore: "Didn't know he watched the Robe....not that we'll ever watch it again..."

Piglet: "ALRIGHT FINE!! I'll come out and say it!! I'm gay!! Is that what you wanna hear?? You put me out here in the face of death and that's what you get!! I'm straight as a merry-go-round!!! straight as a roll of pink cotton candy..."

Christopher Robin: "I'd say something useful but I'm only an 8-year-old who sounds like a girl. But my nanny always told me that when I grew up my British accent would be sexy!"

Piglet: (racking sobs) "Straight as a boomerang....straight as a rainbow.....straight as white bunny rabbits in fields of marigold...."

....I could go all night, but my computer keeps turning off and I have Hacks to watch tomorrow. It's a shame cause I was going to link all the nouns to pictures but I only got to three or four....but enjoy those....and I hope my Winnie the Pooh sketch tides you all over for the lack of links. I also have to hand it to the Dixie Chicks.....I couldn't find any derrogatory pictures of them....which means people like them...but they're still annoying. Buenas noches a mis murcielagos, a mis morsitas, y a mis otras azares.

"Clarence's got a job! Clarence got prospects! He's bona fide!"

"I don't care about bona fide, I am the damn...pater familias!"

"of COURSE it's Pete look at him"

He who goes to the circus without bubbles

2009-06-29T23:33:00.000-07:00

Is an utter fool and shall have no wisdom. That's my made-up Proverb of the day. Write it down.

Heidi, I feel loved by your comment, and thus by you yourself. Thank you for taking the time to post your small and cherished insight into my great and all-uber insight.

Just wait till I post about the Teen Day itself!! Boy oh boy will THAT rock your socks off! actually it sucked and basically went like this

Christy: "No one loves me"
Lisa: "aaaa i think i ruined our friendship aaaa"
Doug: "I don't talk to ANYbody cause I used to live in China"
Jessica: "I only talk to adults. It's how I show how totally awesome I am."
Christy: "Why the #%@#$ does nobody love me"
Jimi: "I hate stupid soccer games why do they even exist"
Mom: "Here are some breath mints!"
Everyone else: "Blah blah blah, useless cliquey conversation, blah blah blah"
Micheal: "Would you like a shooouuulder rub?"
Me: "Doug looks like Miller! If Miller was a tool, he'd look like Doug! No, if Doug wasn't a tool, he'd look like Miller! Ok there's only so many ways to say it and I'm officially bored out of my mind. Let me practice saying "My husband would like to drink some milk" in Japanese. That's boring too, this is the part where I pull out a gun and my borderline personality takes over...no gun....maybe God loves me but he put Boris Yeltsin in subconscious control over my life, and Boris Yeltsin hates me. That's gotta be it. CURSE YOU TO THE SKIES, BORIS YELTSIN!!!"

I'd like to impress upon everyone here how very creepy Micheal's tone of voice was in offering shoulder rubs. The term "shoulder rubs" gives me heebie jeebies. It's right up there with "intimate", and "breasts", and "womb", and "mate" and "made love with". So if you ever bump into Boris Yeltsin, you just combine all those words into a sentence so he can feel my sorrow, like so:

"After I intimately made love with my mate, I gave her a shoulder rub and put cocoa butter on her womb."

Be sure to mention cocoa butter. It's disgusting.

So back to my woeful yarn.....we ate food, and talked about the year, and Christy took especial delight in interrupting me during prayer and vigorously rubbing my back in circles. I harbor bitter vials of bitterness yet still. There was a wig contest in which Christy was judge, and she did not pick me. More vials of bittery goodness for me!! Not like I care for fame or glory but there was a cash prize...a cash prize.....oh well.

You know I bet you're still thinking about those mated people rubbing cocoa butter on wombs....I hope that mental image sticks with you and your children forever!!! And gives you female evening horses!! That's a witty conundrum for nightmares.....and now for a limerick:

There once was a yak in a pie,
Who carried himself quite high,
He manned an escape
By staging a rape
And now he sells bongs in Dubai!

A merchant once sold him a plane
Intending to trade for some grain
He saw a young rabbit
And as was his habit
Ran off down a wide dusty lane.

Twas there that he spotted a goat
It sat on a shiny new moat
It said "Not to worry
Cause if things get blurry
I'll bleat out a dreadful high note,"

The yak started fearing a fight, see
(He was paranoid as well he might be)
But then a parade
Came with the brigade
And pushed them all squishy and tightsey.

The moral of stories are these
You may not all do as you please
But if you are good
And God says you should
You'll find a nice friend to appease

And you'll all have good days and warm meals
And you'll say just whatever you feels
And you'll buy a nice hat
And you'll never get fat
Unless your tennis shoes you conceals

I am tired, you know
All this rhyming is slow
and you just never know
when the time is to go

So I'll say a goodnight
and I miss you a fright
and we'll have a good fight
in our sleep, yes we might
or perhaps we'll just spite
about what wasn't right
or we might see our plight
as an urge to respite
all our woes and bug bites
as we turn off the lights
and fall down in the cities
where the folk are so witties
that you'll like just to stay there and sing of their ditties......but that's not for you, my pretties....

Cause we're off on a lark
And there's trees and there's bark
In this place where I am
There is learning to cram
And I miss making jam
And I miss slicing ham
and I hate all this rhyming but that's what I AM!!!

Cause I'll do it all day
In the worst kind of way
and if you try to sway
me, or push me, or pay me
You won't last the May
We are dying to stay
We are trying to play
We are sighing to lay

Down
In a town
with the lights
all around
in a field
that is green
all concealed
from obscene
things

Now
I am gone
in the world
that I'm on
with the words
that sound the same
like the birds
that play a game......see...it's all so easy....

and trust me it's dreadful but I'll bet you can't do it for long...

you must see a bedful but I've yet to rant through it in song...

it's a game
and I win
every time!

you can blame
anythin'
but it's mine!

Victory, that is.

Answers to "Find the 10 mishaps in the JT board email" game! woohoo!

2009-06-26T11:47:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the game of the day on I Am Large. Please read the disclaimer below so as to better see my compassionate, tactful, positive and softspoken nature.

Disclaimer and Statement:

In the post below, I am in no way maligning, demeaning, mocking, or deprecating the JT board, my mother, the 90's, African Americans, or the Grail Movement. I respect your dignity enormously, so much so that I privatized my blog of wonder to guard the innocents from the borderline satirical nonsense so prevalent on this website that might sway their thinking. Those select few I have deemed of fair brains and good humor to partake of this awesomeness, have now been informed of my amiable views. If they find the below content offensive, they have been duly notified of my intentions, and have every encouragement and right to read something else. I recommend the Bristol Stool Scale. Don't click on that link if you're eating, or pregnant, or not a urologist.

Even if you are a urologist, don't click on it. It's under the Freedom of Information Act here in America, and I can't stop you, but just don't do it. You've been warned.

--End disclaimer--

Alrighty then! On to the games and off to the races!! Ooh I feel like Nero with the arena, except we're not killing Christians so it's the best of both worlds!! Here we go and.....action

Top 10 mentally challenged aspects of the Teen Day Email

1. Scary title with pun

This brings to mind the hip, off-the-charts and far-out lingo of the 90s. Not that they have to open up with a line from T-Pain but they could try for normality....we adolescents need no reassurances that our JT board members "still got the moves".

2. Psycho animation surrounding said title

You never know where the little yellow faces are looking cause they have sunglasses, but I swear they keep staring at me and it's very unnerving.

3. Run-on sentence in first paragraph

....Not the most tragic of affairs except that it makes absolutely no sense by the third line. A simple "We think you're good people" would have done just fine....although that would not have allowed them to venerate our JJT skills and angsty hormones, which of course is a must when addressing our tweeny species.

4. Assorted fonts and colors

Presumably designed to give it a "youthful kick" but ends up looking like a flyer for the Grail Movement fundraiser. Plus, all the colors make focusing our two brain cells on the words so hard!!

5. Scheduling swimming with Merlin

This is all well and good, but why did they make the effort to say particularly "Swimming (with Merlin)"? Is it an enticement to young volatile females to encourage activity participation? A warning to aggressive juveniles intending to drown themselves or others? Is it a subtle hint for us to realize that adults really do care about us and want to partake of our youthful joys and sorrows by swimming with us? Is it Sharon's firm statement that she will not be swimming following a long argument with Merlin over who would? Perhaps, just perhaps it is a precaution in case any of the teens can't swim....which come to think about it might be a good idea what with all the substance abuse....ahh the mysteries of life!

6. Calling a scheduled activity "Friendship time"

It's creepy. It makes you think of a game of Spin the Bottle with T-Bag in a garage with freezer storage.

7. Calling the other scheduled activity "Chocolate Delight"

This very misleadingly brings to mind large and oiled African American men in thongs under strobe lights. I rest my case.

8. Admonition not to "eat too much snacks"

This would have been merely stating the obvious with bad grammar had they not chosen to use the number 2 for to, which brings it up a level on the Richter scale of retardedness.

9. Improper use of the word "wigger"

Another painful pun....how "pun-y" is that! Ooooooop Get it get it? You see what I mean. Puns hurt. Make the pain stop. That should be my new slogan for world takeover...but I digress

10. Reminder to bring a smile for the photo shoot

Well, golly, it's a good thing they reminded us! Cause we, being teens and all, do not smile; we can only stare piercingly into the camera lens with a tortured look that says, "My soul is a jagged piece of death metal". Now that they have stuck in another neo-90s-and-tween quip, gladness fills our hearts and we can smile once again! The day is saved! The witch is dead! Star Trek ratings are plummeting!

Well, that's all for today, folks. Teen Day approaches! May his glorious light shine up you and give you peace, and when I say his I mean Mr. Balloon Hands. He's of a peaceful disposition and would never hurt a fly, except for that fly colony he sat on but that was totally not his fault!! And cut

aaaahahahaha

2009-06-24T14:47:00.001-07:00

This is the message the area received for our Teen Day....a day filled with pubescent angst, haphazardly planned Word classes, petty discrimination and substance abuse.....and this Teen Day is extra special because my own dear mother God rest her is co-planning it.
And because this message made me laugh so much, I decided to turn it into a game for you!! I'm so good to you peons...anyways, the message below is copied exactly from my email. I will give 500 THOUSAND points from Griffyndor to the peon who can tell me top 10 points of total stupidity and general retardedness scattered throughout....the answers will be posted tomorrow. So y'all have 1 day. Whoever gets the most wins! Now bask in the daisy fields!

"WIG-OUT DAY"

Dear Teens & Jetts,

In honor of all the hard work you have done this last year, for the millions of completed school pages & hours doing it, for all the chores & jobs you did to make your home shine, your happy faces, busting energy even your mood swings are all a part of the wonderful YOU & the reason for this fun BBQ-Wig day!

So the JT board (Sharon & Merlin, now back in action) along with Dr Chris is planning a day filled with food & fun & lots of laughs! ;-D

"The keys of laughter will make your times with your friends exactly what it needs to be for each heart & it will pass on the love from the heavenly culture."

Wig Day means just that! EVERYONE must come with an awesome, bright or dark colored, cute, funny, huge, small, long, short, weird or "whatever" type of a wig. Two prizes will be given see the end of the note.

To Do's & Schedule:

Schedule:
2:00 Arrival at Alps home (please eat lunch B4 coming)
2:00 Swimming/games/chill time (With Merlin)
Drinks & Snacks down at the pool
4:30 Friendship Time (be prepared to share something about your school year,
ups/downs, most interesting subjects, what was the subject you scored best at,)
5:00 Photo Shoot (By Ricky & Lisa) (we will send you all a hard copy on CD to your
home & email others you want )
5:30 BBQ & lovely tasting food by Dr Chris & Sharon (don't eat 2 much snacks)
6:30 Chocolate Delight
7:00 Clean Up in thanks to the Alps home!
7:30 Goodbyes!

TO DO's:
Bring a WIG (Prize will be given to the best looking wigger)
Swimsuit
School thoughts to share
Smile for your photo shoot
All Boys need to bake a small desert Dish
Girls will judge the winner (Prize will be given to best baker boy)
Thank to our dear Alps team for allowing us the use of their heavenly home!

Now start guessing...it's like a Highlights game without Beavis and Butthead...or Goofus and Gallant whichever one was in Highlights....

Musings of musiness

2009-06-17T13:51:00.000-07:00

Not really. I was just contemplating the phrase "It's Miller Time!" which I have been using with abandon the last week or so. By the way every time that phrase goes up it will be a link to a sultry picture of said man. Cause there's too many to post all the time and yet I must share their wealth with my readers! Just ignore the other guy who looks like a Chinese dwarf but actually isn't.

Anyways, I'll bet anything that everyone has thought of that, and then thought they were the first ones to think of it, and then said it to him for the hundredth time and pissed him off. Like people saying, "Don't look down on me" to me and then thinking they're really funny. It pisses me off. Or people saying "Oh, Summer's so hoooot get it get it" to Summer. I assume it pisses her off.
How can people be so stupid that they think they're the first one to come up with these lines that take no intelligence to conjure, and then say them to us and think they have wit? It's like we're just victims of these hackneyed jokes forced upon us by the surplus population! It's wrong and evil!!
We should start a club for our kind....and I'll bet Shaquille O'Neal will join with people telling him, "You're tall, dark, and handsome...or at least 2 out of 3". Poor man. That would be an awesome club though. I'd run it and organize club activies, like golfing and picnics and hunting groups of emo youth with rubber bands...you know how they like to travel in herds....and we'd have a tree house for a clubroom, and a flag depicting a Pygmy. And we would start a family band and tour the countryside, and YOU WON'T BE THERE!!!

Well, in heaven perhaps....but what if there's no emo herds to shoot rubber bands at?? Then what? AAAAA my plans are WORTHLESS!! Just like Napoleonland.....it was like Sir Thomas More's Utopia, with less retarded sentence structure and more fudge....

Speaking of fudge, I hereby declare today, June 17, Dia de Chapuza, to commemorate what a piece of fudge I was when I got here. That's Fudge Day in Spanish. And on this holy holiday, all shall exchange gifts of wooden Dutch clogs one size too big, and fireworks shall be shot in all directions, especially at children. And bards shall parade in the streets selling little green rings of holly, and we shall wear them and dance in the highways and byways in our new wooden clogs until dawn, and at dawn we shall eat fudge prepared three days before, in all colors and flavours, and have fudge sculptures, and miniature fudge cities, and miniature fudge boats sailing on chocolate sauce, and we shall sing songs of joy, and throw fudge to the moon, and make fudge offerings to the Fudge King, who shall be elected by popular vote, and we shall romp in the fields with all the children being chased by fireworks, and laugh at their consternation.

In hindsight, we'd have an unpleasantly high child mortality rate if they were all ruthlessly targeted by fireworks once a year.....my imagination will someday be the death of me. That's all.

Happy Anniversary to me

2009-06-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

It's June 17th. I have been living at Activated for one year.

The first six months of this year involved large quantities of severely disgusting work, celibacy, catatonia, spiritual decline, and considerable liver damage. The last six months have involved large quantities of mildly disgusting work, more celibacy, school, occasional breakdowns, spiritual sustainment, and marginally less liver damage. Therefore it stands to reason that the next six months will be filled with normal work, school, no breakdowns, spiritual progress, and........yeah the same liver damage. But this is good! ahaha we are getting back on the unicorn!! "It had magical mayonnaise that I used to make these sandwiches!" I'd forgotten about that.

Anyway, it's been a weird year. Lots of dishes. So many dishes. And lots of change....I miss Clara, Jason, Marky, and Dan. They made our Home quite happy. And I never knew Niki well but I greatly respected her level of expectations for my work ethic. And Julie was a good Leo as far as Leos go, which is pretty far. I love and/or respect all of you.

Let's see what else can I reminisce about....on the nonproductive side of things.....as if there's any other side of things with me ahaha....I completed the entire series of House from the pilot to the ending of Season 6, as well as Family Guy, Firefly, Scrubs, and Heroes, less two episodes. And I read War and Peace! Which was probably not worth it, but as Mark Twain said, "A classic is something everyone wants to have read and nobody wants to read." So that will be my life's classic, so as not to be an unread woman in my adult life. Yay for me!

Anways, life goes on, which is the point of my reminiscing. Now if you'll excuse me....it's Miller time!!!!

Giggidy goo :D

We love bread and butter.....we love toast and jam.....we love Wentworth Miller.....and that's how good a rhymer I AM! Whooooo in your FACES!!

2009-06-16T08:59:00.000-07:00

Pardon my outburst. Alright minions, turn to page 476 in your Book of Rachel's Useless Ponderings so we can open up with an FFing quote of the day:

"All this time I was so lost and I didn't even know it! And now thanks to you, I'm in love!! I'm in love with LOVE!!!"

Hope you enjoyed that. Here's another quote of the day: Attractive men bring hope to the world. So does Jesus. Who's more of an attractive deity and so is not in the same category at all.
Anyways they won't tell you this, but attractive men have a king, and the king's name is Wentworth Miller, and because his name sounds like a historical monument I've taken to calling him "the Prison Break man". Or Captain Billy Stinkwater....they're both top names...Anyways I recently discovered that some genius--God save him--decided to base an entire very entertaining television series around a character played by this man, which means that hundreds of hours of footage of him running around being his beautiful self are available on the Internet! Yay for me!
And now I have to subject you to looking at pictures of the Prison Break man, because I have to post something on him before Christy does, thereby proving that I'm a more dedicated fan and as such am more worthy to marry him. We frequently quarrel on this issue. I think with my basic awesomeness and lack of true freaky obsession we'd have a better marriage but Christy says she's more "rapido y furiousa". Still trying to figure out how that's a quality....anyways now for dessert!!

Because with fronds like these, who need anemones!

There he is there he is!! Probably thinking about something intelligent...or how his polyester vest is far too constricting.......anyways I'll shut up and let you bask in the light and wonder.

Damn it feels good to be a ganster!! The tattoo one wasn't great but it was all I could find...till next time peons! Happy days, warm meals, and attractive men and women to all. And lemonade!! Cause I like it!!

One Day

2009-06-07T22:19:00.001-07:00

Today I learned to love.

I learned to love, then hate, and then love again.

I have fallen down, but I will pull myself up, in the rain and the dark. Because of this love, that is inside, that falls like snowflakes on my heart....and fades away.

It fades away. Oh God, the pain. I wanted to flap my wings and learn to fly, but all there is is falling through blackness....why this pain...why this pain that overtakes me. I should smile, laugh, and love too much. It's never too late to make everything all right, and one day, I will love again with this broken bleeding heart.

*INTERLUDE*

Ahem. A moment while I vomit....and.......ok! I've had a change of heart, and am going to be talking like this for the rest of my life. Welcome to the new blog, I Am Pathetic!

Just kidding. The day I speak the above words with true sentiment is the day Satan has at last won the battle for my soul, and if that day ever comes I implore you to hunt me down and silence me before I spread this toxin to others.

So, on to business. This is my new feature, which I was going to call Sappy Sundays but for it not being catchy enough. It has been created to condition my readers to the terrors of emotionally overdeveloped bloggers, also known by my pet name for them as Cupcake Poodle Poo, hereafter referred to as CPP. These are the type of people that cry continually in the presence of their spouse, watch things like Oprah and Titanic, consistently use the word "lovemaking", and have a deep respect for James Blunt. These people are dangerous, and more importantly highly irritating.

Designed to immunize readers against this toxicly sacchrine brand of writing, this feature will sport long, empassioned and often nonsensical rantings about typical CPP issues, such as the ending of spring and the coming of winter, the death of small pets (usually fish), all forms of love and caringness, emotional distress, having the common cold on a bad day, Rob Thomas, one's love for one's family, music being referred to as the language of the heart, separation from loved ones, and most importantly, unrequited love. The average CPP blog will usually sport amateur poetry on all of these topics, and will carry such domain names as soulcast.com, livelovelaugh.org/feelings, inlove.net/emotion/love/morelove, etc.

To warn you of these perils, I have created this feature, hence titled Operation CPP Liberation, to expose you to minimal amounts of digustingly emo literature so as to build up resistance to its wiles. I have no idea if this will be a weekly thing, we'll just have to roll with the punches and see if I am still up to writing that much pointless goo every week. I will probably pull choice portions from hardcore emotional blogs to share with all of you, as my mind just doesn't write in that gear.

CPP Avoidance Tip: These key words are instrumental for evading pathetic blogs. If you repeatedly see the words hurt, felt, fall, loved, song, pain, rain, me, heh, I, why, eyes, tears, or James McAvoy, leave at once.

G'night y'all! Happy days and warm meals. I'm really tired.

Who are YOU to tell me I need therapy?

2009-06-06T21:49:00.000-07:00

Pff...who was that btw...pff.......I just wanted to let everyone know that I have switched from Team Jacob because my Team Edward friends were being irritating. So I am now firmly and wholeheartedly on Team Ronald.

GO TEAM RONALD!!!!

ahahahaha

oh crap i have to call heidi i'm SO sorry heidi

Hello

2009-06-02T14:03:00.000-07:00

I've been in Chicago! Frank Sinatra's kind of town happy doodle all the day! And when I get the pictures I will post them and tell you all about how we ate food and slept and ate food. It was awesome.

Also, I'm putting up a poll to see who still visit my blog, so check off your name if you get on or else I shall delete you to conserve space because I'm getting new readers and I can only have 100 of you. And I want to see who's still loyal to me after so many years. And you'll all get to see who you all are yay for Danny yay.

The New Moon Trailer is out. My place on Team Jacob has never been more astute :D but his wolf form isn't brown enough. Edward still looks constipated in every shot, Kristen Stewart still can't act, and yet here I stand in the ranks of the tween wonders wishing it was November. ahaha actually Edward's wonderful but Kristen Stewart....is really painful. Her face when she says "Kiss me Edward" will someday be the ticket to her future prestigious career as a domme. "Oh, a papercut" aaaaa it hurts make it stop make it stop! Oh well.

And Christy found this awesome website where you can make South Park people, so I made myself, featured below:

It's me, in my maid garb, complete with bandana. Let's have a beer together and I'll make you eggs! But not fried eggs, omelets. Omelets and egg-in-the-hole...yay!

Ohh that reminds me of when Heidi, Ray and me made eggs and ate them for two hours because we didn't have any real food. Lucky for them I make awesome omelets haha

Anyways, see you all later.

chitty chisty COCOA POT

2009-05-25T04:07:00.001-07:00

some random man in dreads toaught me a drum beat when i was eight yaers old and he was ahahah...."no pinkeye for him" "he was just really HIIIIIGH"

so here we ARE in the GREAT CRICLE OF LIFE!! I was watching the Lion King with Kovu and Kiara...whose kind of a douche...but never mind Nuka gets crushed by a big log Mommy!!

Wait....Mommy's sleeping in the other living room...cause she falls asleep in random places and then Dad just LOSES HER!! and can't find her and we're like Dad she's somewhere around here and he's like I can't fiiiind her she's gone! and we're like no Dad. No. So she's sleeping int he living room.

I'm a little fudge pot short and stout
I am not so short, but my sister says i'm stout
that's just cause she lives in Africa where they dont' have any fooood,
and now she makes me do her chores and lightengs up my moood
a wee smackerel.

I'm gonna sing you a SONG now

Once there was a magical elf who lived in a rainbow tree...
He lived downstairs from a flatulent dwarf who was constantly having to pee.
One day the elf could take no more,
and marched right down to the rude dwarf's door,
and whadda ya know?
They suddenly both were marrrrriiieeeddd!!!

idn't it pretty? like green eyes and lives without HAY FEVER but we thank God anyways.

I miss my friends. They were nice people. I only have a few left in my pocket, and one of them makes me eat everything and the other one says i'm a mean person. And if THA"TS true, I'm fat, AND mean. ahahah life is so funny like toilets. Toilets are always funny.

Movie marathon...TONIGHT!! I watched Pollyanna and 10 things I hate about you, and Easy Virtue, and some movie called Tong or somehthign, and Lion King number 2...number 2 ahahah....and Open Season with the bear and the nice song, and Over the Hedge with the other bear and the pretty skunk with the pretty eyes....and some Scrubs, and some Heroes, and some Fat Short Toes. It's my made up show where i stare at my toes cause my family has really long gangly toes but mine are short and round and they look like fat little crayon squiggles, so that's why I think I'm adopted. Toes are fun to stare at cause you can wiggle them and make them pointy looking. Likea ballerina! i wanted to be a ballerina...right before i wanted to be a veterinarian...which was right before i wanted to be a poet...and that was right before i wanted to have a husband and 10 children on a farm in Ireland with cats and sheep and dogs and cows and horses and raise kids and animals and crops. And after that....after that i wanted to be the first girl drummer ever, and after that I wanted to be dead cause that's when we started moving when i was 11 and a stupid head. And now i want to be a happy person who's never down and who makes other people happy all the time!! but i'm a downer apparetnly. I used to be an upper like crack, but not bad for you. When I was little....and i had hair down to my butt and it was so black it looked blue in the sunlight which made me very vain..very vain ilttle girl..i'm tired. I think i'm going to sleep on this couch watching my toe show. You all be good and don't die!! cause as Reverend Pollyana says, DEATH COMES UNEXPECTEDLY!!! roar!

And on this blessed morning, at this moment at 4:26 AM, we give thanks to God that we are not dead, and that He hasn't killed us for being bad, as we so deserve. Tiredness overwhelms my soul. Good night, elizabeth....goodniiiight elizabeth good night

we coudn't all be cowboys some of us are clowns and some of us are dancers on the midway we roam from town to town and some of us are none of these cause some of us are queer and some of us would like to fly way far away from here

Redundancy is gay...and other early morning ponderings

2009-05-16T00:15:00.001-07:00

...and sadly, these are not those early morning meditations that are so good for the soul. No, these are useless ponderings....but this is a useless blog so we might as well keep up the rep! Yay for Daddy yay!!

So, on to our catch-up time, where I tell you all the shite that's been going down and you fail to comment. I love our one-way relationship don't you?

Well the situation is quite simple really; Stephy Paone planned this smashing pirate party for her birthday and kindly invited me despite it being 18 on over. Our shepherdanagers thought differently however, and so here I sit while over 80% of my Home is running around in pirate garb and/or passed out in a pool of their own body fluids. And may I add that I had two brilliant costumes when it was sure I was going. Drab pirate queen or sprightly cabin boy....I still can't decide which one deserved to robe my glowing aura more....but never mind that.
Anyway Santi decided to be an idiot and not get online all night, and no one else on my chat list is enough of an insomniac, so I am all alone this dark cold night. This is the universe's way of getting back at me for renouncing vegetarianism, I swear--even the Japanese people aren't online, and it is prime time for those moe little bell-pepper princesses. And yes, all Japanese people are princesses, regardless of gender. It's a good thing. Get used to it.

And I know she already announced it on her blog but as godmother I feel it is my duty to scream from the rooftops that MY BEST FRIEND IS HAVING BABIES!!! I"M A GODMOTHER!!! And when they are born Summer, Santi and I will build a cottage deep in the woods, gain 150 pounds each, dress in fat raggedy dresses and bonnets with veils and raise them to believe we are fairy godmothers who took on human form to care for them until their 16th birthdays, when they will assume rule of Effobertland as king and queen of the Haboolishes, inhabitants of the Effoberland realm. And I demand that one of them be named Hansel!! Or Hans....or Frederick the Foreboding....as the first name only...the middle name would be And Fearless Frolicker. Frederick the Foreboding and Fearless Frolicker Renfro. I like it. It has style!

Well on to other things, lest I christen one of them Dudley so I can call it Big D and Diddly Ditters and such. We must resist.

My sister will be here on Tuesday. I haven't seen her in three years but she seems to be essentially the same so yay for the family reunion of oversized relatives. It will be odd though, because everyone who knew my sisters when they were my age tells me that I look like Jules, talk like Steph and make Nick's faces, so apparently I'm some sort of hybrid of my older siblings.....anyways it should be nice.

On the personal vanity side of things, I'm thinking about cutting bangs. Really intense Japanesey bangs....but I am unsure of this. The blue streak in the back is definitely happening though.

And I found a new favorite song! And it's nothing like my usual favorite songs...which I interpret to be a good thing, cause new things are good things, unless you're newly transexual. Anyways from discerning the lyrics which make very little sense it seems to be about a guy getting head while driving down an alley. I figured the other 50 overly poetic songs I've been listening to about dealing with loss were getting gay and redundant ahahaha.....10 points to whoever can tell me what song I'm talking about.

I've been overhearing an inordinate amount of unpleasant things being said about me lately. Eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, true, but it's been totally unintentional so I feel very wronged. Jimi was making incest jokes about me and Nick to a girl who shall remain anonymous, because I believe she could be a normal person if she would not affiliate with that polluting boy. Anyways, it made me angry. In fact I might just burn a Nazi flag in defiance of his evilness....make that his personal Nazi flag....alright, anger is bad. So tie your anger to the radiator and GRAPE IT IN THE MOUTH!!! And then drag it down to the basement and grape its mother and it for decades and decades!!

That may well be my new slogan for the month...I can see it now. Tie your anger to the radiator and grape it in the mouth. I should send that in to WS so they can turn it into a GN title and maybe a few key promises....and then give me gifts for life! It's foolproof!!

Hmm....well that may be it for my creative processes....it's back to WKUK and staring at walls and thinking about things....secret things....things so secret even I don't know what they are.....and that's what I'm thinking about all day long. This explains a lot of why I do nothing all day. I may have been dropped or sat on as a baby. Blame the old man.

Anyways, pray I don't get eaten by lampreys at Lake Michigan....cause apparently I will be saling there with my grandmother, my great-aunt, my Sherlock-Holmes-obsessive aunt and her possessed dog. I just learned about them in Biology and have developed an irrational fear of them, and by them I mean lampreys. They frighten me, really.

Goodnight, Elizabeth.

Mutterings

2009-04-22T12:45:00.000-07:00

Christy paints ugly things on ugly children and pretty things on cute children. It's funny!!!

I don't think anyone comes on here anymore.....we have a Steering Council where everyone is manager and shepherd at once....like worms that can be boy or girl whenever they want!! It's strange as fudge.

Nothing else to say.....dishes and school, school and dishes.....and anime...lots of anime.....ain't life grand!

I'm off! Back to your lives, citizens. Show's over.

EVERYONE!!! ALERT AND AWAKEN YOURSELVES!!!

2009-04-18T23:29:00.001-07:00

Magnanimous news, peons!! Charlie the Unicorn 3 is out!!!!! This is wonderful!!!

Click here click here

AAAAA this is so exciting!!!! A wealth of new lines....and no one to say them with....but never mind that!! Click up there!!!!!!!!

Yaaaaaay! Feast on the joy, my little children! Absorb the bounty of goodness into your souls, and let us all be sprightly and jubilant!! Charlie has given us new hope!!

I myself liked the bit about the door.....now away!! And may you all bask in the light of Charlie's wonder!!

"I WANT TO BE WITH YOU FOREVER!!!!"

Sleepy rhyming thoughts

2009-04-18T00:03:00.000-07:00

A child is screaming
The music is being heard
It's not drowning it out
I can still hear every word

Well, there aren't any words
There is a baby screaming though
If he could talk he's probably say....
....hell i don't know

Don't know why I'm rhyming too.....
I should be in bed
Sleeping, or trying to
Rest my oversized head

Is tomorrow my freeday?
I cannot say.
But it promises
To be a shit day.

First time I've said shit on here
And there's the second time!
What a happy thought that is
In this pointless rhyme.

Anyways, back to the day
tomorrow! it will be gay
As in homosexual, not merry and bright
I shall clean the house all day....and do nothing all night

Sleep shall evade me, like it always does
I don't know why this is, but I think it is because
Unhappiness gives me headaches
And anger gives me eye aches

And when my room is dirty
as it is wont to be
I become angrily unhappy
or unhappily angry.

Anime is gay.....in the merry cheerful way....
It can be gay in the other way....
But not the stuff I watch
It is good for a motch!

Made up word alert!
Go screw yourself Bert!
No, I have clean taste
I do not let words waste

That was a lie
So is this:
I like apple pie!

I do not like apple pie
It is warm and had cinnamon.
I don't like cinnamon.
And it reminds me of the ugly boy screwing a pie in American pie.

And who wants to be reminded of that?
No one but ppl who have minds like a rat!
My rhyming spree is back on
I am not wearing a thong

You may keep that needed information in your pocket.
But if you do, I shall classify you as a freak and punch you in your eye socket!
God my rhymes are divine
Like a fine.......wine.
So nicely they shine
and intertwine
like little vines
on my spine.

I feel quite high
like i might die
or rhyme forever
but i shall do neither

not yet.
I bet....
Unless
my guess

is wrong and I go to Heaven
And Jesus says, "what are you doing here My child?"
And I say, "I don't know, You're supposed to be omnipotent"
And Jesus says, "Ah yes. You are here due to a clerical error. You are supposed to be on Earth trying to serve Me"
And I say, "Yes but I really suck at that because I am overly emotional about stupid things"
And Jesus says, "Well you can get help for that when you get back"
And I say, "I don't want to go back....I want to stay home and bake cookies with You!! And besides, unpleasant people are on earth"
And Jesus says, "Yes but they're educational. And we will bake cookies when you come back"
And I say, "Will they be purple? Please oh please?"
And Jesus says, "Purple and neon green, and maybe few blue and yellow ones to throw at Rupert from the sky"
And I say, "You know me so well......"

Alas, this conversation
is a simple compensation
for the lack of communication
between me and the world.....ation

yes
so desu ne
jozu des

Here is a fun fact
for you and your pact
I can say "I am the state" in French
And in my hand I can clench

So many things.....like pens
And the heads of a thousand hens!!
One at a time of course
Becoming random is my discourse

I should not post so late at night
It gives my fans an awful fright
When I do naught but rhyme away
And waste the night with verbal play

It boggles me how I can think
Of words that rhyme without a blink
Regardless of if they make sense
It is a talent of great recompense

But sparing you, my readers dear
I shall sign off, quite soon I fear
To waste your time I shall not do
Unless of course you ask me to

I love to answer your requests
if they all say I am the best
Because I am! see I love me
As all humans are wont to be

We are quite gay, we have our brains
and then our feelings, and it's all so bothersome
they mix up in our heads
and make silly thought-feeling bread
wrecking all the land
with their silly stand.

Yes, minds and feelings are fudged.
Let it be recorded and then sludged
as my observations tend to be
(Fudged here means f***ed, as you can see)

I bid you all
From my china wall,

A good night.
Without fright, or spite. Or a nargol bite.

I salute the cheesepuffs and their king
who cannot do a single thing.
I toast the ruler of Gnome power
who I miss like a bright green flower.
I muse on all my happy friends
who were with me until the end
Of the age of old which we all know
The days when all was rightly so.

Of jelly sandwiches and freeday fights
Of fun and Beer-and-Family-guy nights
Of times when we were young and strong
And fit as well as Ping with Pong

And now I am quite nigh surrounded
by fellows who are quite compounded
they talk all night and trash my room
and fill me with my thoughts of doom

I am half jesting, they are alright
although they are quite messy at night

but never mind, I was going away
to wait for some, more suitable day
And conserve the workings of my mind
till my thoughts are of a different kind

and not so sing songy with their curves
I imagine that gets on your nerves.
Goodnight, my dear little peons.
We're all hardcore in spirit.....

Or in my case, in Imagination Land! Where ANYTHING is possible!

ahahaha i make me laugh.....fore and aft....

A Dustland Fairytale

2009-04-09T09:26:00.000-07:00

One of the prettiest songs I've ever heard.

A Dustland fairytale beginning, or just another white trash county kiss
In '61, long brown hair, and foolish eyes
He looked just like you'd want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American prince
A blue jean serenade
And moon river, what'd you do to me
But I don't believe you

Saw Cinderella in a party dress
But she was looking for a nightgown
I saw the Devil wrapping up his hands
He's getting ready for the showdown
I saw the minute that I turned away
I got my money on a palm tonight

Change came in disguise of revelation
Set his soul on fire
She said she always knew he'd come around
And the decades disappear
Like sinking ships we persevere
God gives us hope but we still fear
We don't know
The mind is poison

Castles in the sky sit stranded, vandalized
The draw bridge is closing

Saw Cinderella in a party dress
But she was looking for a nightgown
I saw the Devil wrapping up his hands
He's getting ready for the showdown
I saw the ending when they turned the page
I threw my money and I ran away
Straight to the valley of the Great Divide

And where the dreams roll high
And where the wind don't blow
Out here the good girls die
And the sky won't snow
Out here the bird don't sing
Out here the field don't grow
Out here the bell don't ring

Out here the bell don't ring
Out here the good girls die

Oh Cinderella don't you go to sleep
It's such a bitter form of refuge
Why don't you know the kingdom's under siege
And everybody needs you
Is there still magic in the midnight sun
Or did you leave it back in '61
In the cadence of a young man's eyes
And where the dreams all hide

Your Status Has Been Changed to Worthless Peons!!!

2009-04-07T21:53:00.000-07:00

Well, I've decided to talk about me, and you, and our reader-writer bond we've got going on. I have noted that this is what most bloggers do and is therefore boring, it's egocentric, and not really all that interesting for the readers. But see that's the grand thing about having a website dedicated to yourself--it's all about you. Or in this case, me!

Also, something that has been eating at me for months is the lack of support I get from all of you. I mean gosh darnit I have put out for you ungrateful wretches for almost two years now--and I have made huge efforts to keep this place entertaining. Yes, I am a literary genius, but why don't YOU try inventing tongue twisters or new words, or insightful captions for boring pictures or long poignant rhymes? It takes thought and planning, and no one appreciates it. I put pictures even when I really wanted to post my own verbal genius because it makes you all happy; I do features, I make AWESOME polls, and what do I get in return? Nothing but offensive comments from my loud Texan roommate. Comments I do not appreciate because they usually involve the words IN YO FACE.
So, in exchange for this silent and ungrateful treatment of my work as an Edison of writing, I can subject you peons to colossal columns of ranting, uneducated and uninteresting text about absolutely nothing, and you would just have to deal with that because that's what blog-reading is all about; reading the writings of people who can't write books, to make them feel special. Unless you're Connie, which would mean because you can't write real articles about the diversity of different brands of headphones, because normal people wouldn't want to read them.

That might have been too harsh. Here's the article in question if anyone's curious, and y'all just let me know if you as normal people would want to read that on iVillage. Actually if you're perusing this site you're probably not normal.....oh well. On to me!--Because I can.

Actually after all that angst I don't feel like talking about anything else. YOU'RE ALL UNGRATEFUL WRETCHES!! I'm telling you what, the world's not ready for my work yet. I'm going back to my combination of happy things that make up my significant other, besides Jesus.

Something to cheer me up when I'm down,
Something to hold when I sleep,
Something to have dinner with on those special nights, and
Something to tell all my woes to and find comfort.

This was on my Valentine's post, but the links aren't so clear if they're not in bold. Just another one of the many efforts I make for you peons.
Oh, and your new name is peons, since apparently none of you read my work so you can't be called readers anymore. I shall dance on your graves!!!
Perhaps not, but you get the feeling of betrayal and hurt I'm putting out there, yes yes? Good. I'll see you all later, or maybe I won't!! Maybe I'll withold my glorious talent from you to teach you to value its wonder. To show me your love you will vote on my poll and be VERY truthful. Good day, worthless peonic peons. May you stagnate in your own stale thoughts formed in the mush of your decaying brains, while I invent a new word to rhyme with wibulent, so they can have little word-children and have whole word-families of poems rhyming with each other. Their descendants shall cross the stars!!!

Don't ask me how. But, they will! And when they do maybe you peonish, peon-loving, peoncial.....peonese, peonite, peonal, peon-like folk, will LEARN!! Not to disturb THE WRATH!! Of the Whale. You must never forget, you are all naught but Storks swimming in my ocean of wisdom. I give you priceless insight into my uncanny life; I give you pictures of fat ladies and plans for taking over the Vatican! I give you so much, but it's all just take, take take from you people. Well I've had it!! You've had too much of a good thing, and now you're spoiled silly with my counsel and you've taken it for granted. Never again, my children. Never again!!!

And in case you're wondering, this is not the end. Lucky for you unreading fudge-pies, and contrary to popular opinion, I post for me, not you. I will continue to outdo myself with stunning posts of yore, and you will marvel.

Hmm, I think I overdid it on the self-glorifying. I'll have to balance it out with some putting down of other people.

Hugh Jackman has a funny name!!!! And children slobber too much, and elephants can't jump. What losers.

And now for some completely random truth so you can say you all learned something:

Elephants really can't jump. Again, what total losers.

Goodnight, now. May you all....have unpleasant meals and no love or liquor for a WEEK! That should do it. Now take a moment of silence to regret your lack of love. Any mothers will want to pass this on to your children. That means you, Clara. Julie better feel the remorse emanating!

Nightie night

Words of widsom for the wibulent and the wistful, to warble at will with walruses.

2009-04-04T23:10:00.002-07:00

Holy fudge I found Holiday in Spain in what appears to be German, possibly Yiddish. Performed by a band delightfully christened Blöf. Everyone should click here for this total randomness. Ignore the ugly and ill-suited singer on the piano in the second and third verses and just bask in the Nordic culture! PTL! Hey I think that's the first time I've used the o with the dots over it.....coooooool

Anyhoo, on to the words of wisdom....besides every word of that translated song of course, which definitely count as wisenly words....anyway here goes:

If Mary was pro-choice, there would be no CHRISTMAS!!

Things to ponder: My feet hurt really horridly and I need a hug. I should clone myself twice and name my counterparts Clementine and Fudge, and start a band with free hugs on the side....we could rule the world, become instantly popular and all get married to totally random men, then confuse them by running around in circles and saying "Guess who guess who!!"

....What's wrong with me?

Here we are....Sunset and Candem....

2009-04-01T16:05:00.000-07:00

Ten points to whoever knows what that's from.
It's that time of life, when the old post is at the top and in need of a new post to replace it. However, no witty banter will flow from my fingers due to serious angst. Thus I leave you with this picture to gaze at in reverence while I return to banging my useless head against my bedroom wall and scorning myself as a waste of space.

It's a Christmas bauble filled with water being shot by a BB gun taken the instant it struck. Now gaze in reverence.

I'm a Goblin.

2009-03-27T18:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's right. A Goblin. Just took a test, and it's official. I shall be sporting a face not unlike this very soon. Shameful business.

In other news...our room's dirty. My recent illness has cluttered it up dreadfully, but I'll get to it today or something. And....there was something i was going to say, but now I've forgotten it....oh well.

The new official word of the day is: Snogging.

Snogging, or to snog, is a delightful term I've discovered in the Half-Blood Prince. I'll now be using it in place of "making out", which I've never really liked. Snogging is so much more of a happy sounding word, or at least I think so.

And next time I catch someone at it......which will be a while's wait, given that the sight of any affection around here is less likely than being bitten by a Yeti practicing Tai Chi alongside a talking mouse (who is undoubtedly more flexible and quite smug about it, to the Yeti's painful dismay) underneath a solar eclipse occurring in the dead of night, I shall triumphantly point at them very ostentatiously and say, "Look!! Snoggers!!", and then clap my hands and dance in a circle of hidden knowledge, while non-British folk look questioningly at me for a definition of the term, which their pea-size brains will not absorb. Yes I will.

Happy days, warm meals, and pleasant snogging to you all!! The Goblin saltues you....and encourages the sharing of custard.

"Mars is bright, tonight...."

"AND SO IS YOUR FACE!!"

You know it occurs to me that I shall likely end up a great disappointment to the world. I seem to be one of those people that looks to have a great potential, but then doesn't.

Anyhoo, if anyone sees Fred and/or George Weasley, the Janitor, Jacob Black, Leonidas, Stelios, the inventor of the word fugde, Stifler, Finch, Hector, or the headless man with the umbrella who stars in the circus video that is constantly playing at the HEB in Plaza Real, please inform them that I would like to marry them. Or perhaps I shall start a man-harem for fictional characters.....real people are so disappointing....I want to live in Weasley's Wizard Wheezies!! Gosh darnit!!

Oh well. And in case anyone was wondering, Stelios is the hardcorest Spartan ever who laughs at everything and cuts off the whippey-man's arm. I like people who laugh, or who I can laugh at. They're treasurous folk, they are. Of that list Hector and Leonidas are the only two you can't laugh at, being Greek legends and all.

"Legend tells of a legendary hero, whose exploits were the stuff of LEGEND!!"

No, it's a tie between the Weasleys and the Janitor......the Weasley's are awesome beyond all, of course, and the Janitor is a genius who spends his life hunting JD, who is gay. and....here's a bit of his goodness but the first scene's not very good

And here's a bit more, if you liked the first bit

Ow revoaarr

It's a hard enough LIFE for us

2009-03-25T14:54:00.000-07:00

Living in an ORRRPHANAGE

It's a hard enough LIFE for us

Living in an ORRRPHANAGE

I've been yelling that song lately....it's the only thing that keeps the handymen's blasted distortion-filled music coming through the wall. "I cry giiiiive me, revoluuuution or give me deeeeeath"....it's enough to send anyone dotty.

I've been living in my bed for two days now...most unpleasant, seeing as it's tiny and sags in the middle. But oh well. Lots of sleep debt being repaid, which is pleasant I suppose. I slept sitting up propped with pillows the other night, with a big cup of tea and pills and tissues on my bedside table, and I felt very much like an old withered dying aunt. All I really need now is a malevolent butler trying to expediate my death, and ten or twelve belligerent nephews plotting against each other while they fight for the inheritance. And maybe a really frail niece who's the only one who's still loyal to me. I've been plotting the nephews' demises as a means to pass the time...it's a very rewarding trail of thought--makes me happy.

See I've been struck down with allergies, which turned into fever and chills, which turned into great swells of tiredness, general weakness, dizzyness, etc. It seems to have an affinity for evolving rather than passing and me getting better....grrr....I'm like a week behind on school, and these things ought not so to be. At this point I wouldn't be half surprised if I catch TB next time--I'll be sure to inform you all.

So, not much to blog about.....the ceiling doesn't change much even when you're staring at it. Chris Guitar is warbling away on the other side of the wall so loud I can hardly think....the handymen will pay. Yes they will...perhaps I'll teach their children they were adopted. "You can't tell me what to do you're not my REAL dad!!" Ah, priceless treasures new and old.....

Oh I saw a homo picture of Tom Felton and Daniel Radcliffe when i was googling images yesterday....it was really disgusting...AND the "Moderate Safesearch" guard was on...beware you Internet users, there are homos flying about!!
Oh well no use dwelling on it. In other news, I'm bored and my nose is raw and dessicated, and if removal was an option I'd be seriously considering it. And I might be joining the migration of randomites to South Africa, but for different reasons than them. My sister lives there....nothing set in stone but I'm thinking about it....anyways...bye for now all you storks, happy thoughts. Now back to my infirmities

IT'S A HARD ENOUGH LIFE FOR US
LIVING IN AN ORRRPHANAGE
IT'S A HARD ENOUGH LIFE FOR US
LIVING IN AN ORRRPHANAGE

"Whyyyyyyyyyy why do ya STONE US"

It's not working......I will be strong....like Doug, with the Bibles....I must be strong.

Hate Me

2009-03-18T20:42:00.000-07:00

Blue October- Hate Me

I have to block out thoughts of you, so I don't lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape, to remind me that I'm alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There's a burning in my pride, and a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you, will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me, just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me, it is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

I'm sober now for 3 whole months, it's one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again
In a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I'll drive so f*cking far away that I'll never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Till I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling, "Make it go away," just make a smile
Come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered, "How can you do this to me?"

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways, ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see whats good for you.

"Dobby had to iron his hands!" And Happy Belated Family Birthday

2009-03-16T21:27:00.000-07:00

Well, that social function I was telling you about below turned out to be a good deal of fun, albeit mixed with several unpleasant things like falling in mud with Techi and staining perfectly good socks, and upsetting people, and people upsetting me. But as these things go, it was pretty dandy. Lovely weather, and lots of food. I ate 6 hamburger patties and 2 hotdogs while in a drunkenly misguided state. I remember falling off a park bench while tucking one hamburger patty after the other away while laughing my head off and saying, "Meat is FUNNY!" numerous times. I didn't feel at all well when I got home, but what can you do......

Anyways, I selected some choice pictures to describe this dandy event. Dandy's really the only word for it.....it was just dandy!! It really was....anyhoo, here we go. As usual, I will provide very insightful captions to explain the essence of each picture.

This frowdy-looking boy is Doug, from China. He's a tool. Actually he's not but I never use that word and it's just so much fun to call him one. Anyway, at the moment this picture was taken, he was in all likelihood thinking, The smuggled Bibles I swallowed last fall are making their way down the intestine.....I musn't let them out. I will be strong.
This is my mum and Keith the nonuncley Uncle, giving each other a sort of lumpish and odd-looking hug. It has potential to become warm and fuzzy, I think. Or maybe it just was, and now they're awkwardly pulling away. What a marvelous mystery!
Micheal: "I'm not talking about Italy and am therefore totally bored with everyone and everything. Life is dull."
Angel: I've attached a nuclear explosive to your sunglasses. In precisely 00:01:23 seconds it will go off, and one day all Japanese will own nuclear devices. What a happy day that will be!
"Now wait....I've got a kid on my back....why is that....hey yo yo check it, "kid on my back, bid on a sack and the lid hit the rack YO lid hit the rack YO vibrate, YO vibrate, kid back, back kid, lid smack, smack lid"....dawg I gotta get this recorded. Too bad my computer exploded the other day."

And this is Techi, the freckled chump who had her goods stolen in Romania or somewhere, and me, looking especially lumpy and rather ugly in general. I have no recollection of taking this photo.This tragic image captures the desert table turning perfectly decent Family folk into a raging, sugar-thirsty, savage mob. I call it "Bittersweet". I intend to turn it black-and-white and sell it online for thousands of dollars.

This is Jimi, eating a hamburger. And uninteresting people are milling about in the background.Our happy picnic spot....and for the record, we are drinking Apple Juice and Lemonade. I am passing the lemon to dear chump Techi, having finished making an Apple Juice Sour. She was making a Lemonade and tonic. I don't remember this photo either, but suffice it to say we had a very nice time watching people, especially Doug the Tool*, play a rousing game of soccer, and yelling things at them they couldn't understand.

It perturbs me that someone has photographed me in the act of drinking and that this picture is on a large and much-visited blog, but I suppose the untrained eye can't tell. You all have nice days and warm meals.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad..."

*Doug isn't actually a tool. I only make great efforts to disclaim this because I don't know him due to his antisocial nature, and he might take offense to being called a tool. But just in case he doesn't, Doug's a tool!!! Yay for Daddy YAY!!!

You know that feeling....

2009-03-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

....when you're drunk at some social function, cause there's nothing else to do, and then you go home and are hanging out with your parents, and you wish you were sober cause now there's REALLY nothing or no one to do, and it sucks?

Yeah. I hope you appreciate the huge effort it's taking me to spell correctly. And to not tell all you readers very inappropriate things. Giggidy.

Well, as most drunken events turn out, some people are unhappy with me, some people are happy with me.....can't please everyone.....you know how THAT goes.

I don't really have anything more to say.....unless i want to get into my venting, but i'll save that for friends with strong spirits. Or something.

love and suttff

Love is like a bogey. You keep picking at it until you get it, and then you wonder what to do with it.

So I'm pregnant......

2009-03-03T20:32:00.000-08:00

That was just to get your attention. I really need everyone to read and watch this, because it made me so full of joy I literally screamed with laughter and tears came to my eyes, and I like sharing my joy.

These girls should find the guys from Trapped in the Bathroom and create a super race.....my god they are endowed from above......

Just be sure and go to the bathroom beforehand-- it is most likely you will void your bowels where you sit if they are not previously voided.

"I can fly on top of leeeeaves........cause I'm Edward Cullen!"

And Part two......too many good parts to quote...

"Sweet MOTHER of PICKLES!! It's a parachute!!!"

I intend to memorize these and quote them to myself on sad dark nights. Cheers!!

"EDWARD!! EDWARD I KNOW YOU"RE IN THERE TALK TO ME! I"M GOING TO KILL MYSELF!"

"Why, why is it so dangerous??!?!"

"I'll eat your face off, bitch!"

That may be the first time I've said that on here....weird......first time for everything....must FLY!

The Post-Feast post we've all been waiting for

2009-03-01T21:39:00.000-08:00

...and by we, I mean myself, and the row of 9 bottles behind my bed.

The Feast...was amazing. I am, for once, really excited about change, and that's weird for me, cause I hate change, but it's awesome what the Lord is doing! And if I'm sounding auntie-ish in any way, I'm sorry, but it's really really exciting! Wheehee!

Thoughts of Feast 2008 did come to mind, along with rather jubilant memories of Heidi and Katrina and jello shots. And very short hair....I almost miss that...anyways, we celebrated our coming 30 years with a "Black and White Cocktail Party", entailing long hours of stenciling banners and blowing balloons and arguing with Windy on the size of the bar table.
A good number of very memorable times ensued at this event, most notable being that I was able to assist in a ingenuous operation attempting to tape someone's nipples down and color over that tape with permanent marker to make them feel more secure in the very un-supported and see-through shirt and corset they were wearing. Oh the mysterious world of the girls' room....it's like a subculture in itself I'm telling you what. Mountains of clothes in all directions, floor littered with 80 pairs of shoes in 25 colors while 6 girls are painting, polishing, dressing, undressing, comparing and panicking all at once. Precious moments.
Let's see what else was worth mentioning....my own dear father played a game show host and spent long hours practicing his persona, which was embarrassing, but he had a blast so that was nice....and I actually won a beer and two bottles of wine from that same game show so I can't complain....who knew Family History could be so alcoholicly rewarding....I gave the beer to Nick and the Cabneret Sauvignon to Nyna, but the Chardonnay is mine ALL MINE. I like Chardonnay. Makes me think of the Gladiator's house, without the charred remains of the wife and child. Oh the heather fields....
My sister and her other half Chuck showed up dressed like a 50's wife and flapper girl, which is always a treat. We did Astronauts, and I forgot how much I miss Lenard hahaha dear soul...and we played lots of happy games. Someone whose name I shan't mention kept using one game as an excuse to smack me pretty darn hard, which really pissed me off and kind of ruined that part of the evening, but never mind. After that it wound down, most people left and Nyna, Windy, Christy, Emi, Micheal, Boo, and myself played the drinking game from Family Guy, the "I've never" one. It was fun. I got to take sips of tonic water instead of shots but at that point it was probably very wise....and then those people left and Debbie(one of our tryouts) joined us for a rousing conversation about genital piercings, which made me laugh, especially since her husband was sitting in on this candid discussion with slight disturbedness. It was a joy to watch. They are new potential Home members and they're the dearest people you could imagine, especially for being an SGA couple with 4 kids, and their kids are nice.......so there IS hope for the world.....in any case next day was freeday, and that was today.

We woke up, cleaned the house, I made a drink with curcao, lemon, sugar, tonic, and gin and it was a total hit, which cheered me up greatly. I also tried to make a Boston Sour without a proper cocktail shaker which did not end well, but oh well. We watched Revolutionary Road, which has got to be one of the most hopeless movies I've ever seen. The movie, especially the acting, was brilliant but it had a very devoluting effect on my head. Very dumpy. I had good cleansing PnP time, and then hopped on the computer to write this joyous account of the past week to you, my readers of love. It seems my blog is reading more like a journal then what it used to be...I think that's due to my creative block; I can't write as retardedly as I used to. I miss that--I used to laugh the whole way through my posts. Oh well.

Until next time, I wish you good food and drink and happy changes and a great lack of hangovers, gay folk, overthinking, bee stings, genital piercings, genital infections or disorders in general, etc. I'm off to listen to Twilight for the fourth time. And I AM working on that by the way.

Everyone click here. My brother designed the heading....I'm so proud of our family genius....below the beautous thing pictures of orange-clad Mexican children and Tony can be found. Happy thoughts.

If I ever get the pictures I'll put them up. It'll be a good exercise in self-acceptance since I am the size of a house in each one. PTL.

Of a great falling down, the Health Carnival, and other strange adventures

2009-02-23T22:08:00.000-08:00

Two words......FREE CONDOMS!!

But I'm getting ahead of myself....Saturday nights and Sunday mornings in wintery Ensenada are the BUMB!! I mean BOMB!! *Peter laugh* They are now, anyways, because I'm getting faithful prophecies almost every day, and faithful Jesus time does that to me. Glory to the Hosts and their King, etc.

Anyways, so we had this freenight....Christy, Nyna, Jimi, and myself went to the theatre to see Revolutionary Road, and ended up seeing As You Like It, which involves much forest-frolicking and black people saying things like this:

"Merry, prithy I pray you for such a chance encountered in your wild eyes which forsooth me to be a pretty youth! Hey-ho, hey-ho, admist thy tenderous want I grow weary! Heh hey-ho!"

Most intense. Luckily between the four of us we brought enough variety in liquor to construct a small bar, which we did. It was a happy hour-and-a-half, spent passing bottles, flasks and paper cups, being deserted by Nyna and Jimi when they went theatre-hopping for their lack of appreciation for Shakespeare, Christy dropping her straw and blanking out, then refocusing on the screen and asking urgently in a rather panic-stricken voice, "What's going on?!?!" over and over again. We got some awesome lines, like, "Be it is that I am more than common tall" etc etc.

Then we went home, and proceeded to watch an ungodly amount of Scrubs. And I went to bed.

Next morning Christy and I sojourned to the kitchen and made pancakes and hard lemonade, and all they that were around us knew that it was so. For it was ORANGE, with a green TOP. And we dined splendidly, five of us, on these good things, and made merry. Then there was a massage-trade off, which felt rather odd taking place at 11 AM, but who cares. Much discussion on who's doing who and the annual Viagra victim, taking place at the Family Birthday Fellowship come March, was planned. We came to some very agreeable decisions. I maintain my love affair with my pillow. I should mention that shots were given and received, in holy love.

Anyways, off we went to the Carnival!! With ugly Mexicans, and parades, and cold ham and dumplings and EVERY good thing! I went to this grand affair in disguise (disguise in this story meaning wearing a very worn and puffy blonde wig with giant sunglasses and yelling lots and lots). This parade had lots of hos and hoish folk, with hos, and children hos, and Hindu children hos, and King Kong with hos dancing around him, throwing out t-shirts and small packages which turned out to be condoms. What a joyous sight it was!

From thence we turned into a deserted bar with lots of happy flavors of Margaritas, and I got Strawberry but it was horridly sweet, but at that point it mattered little, because we were talking to a randomite, our blonde companion during the carnival who had the oddest life experiences, like backpacking through Europe and filling sand bags in the army in Iraq, and tattooing freckles on her nose when she was 18. They're bluish, and it's strange. Her name is Techi. She's fun and talks like her little sister Bresa.
After this rumpus I was feeling dandy, but had an unpleasant sugar-tequila taste in my mouth, so Christy and i sojourned to the bar, and then.....ah, then....I had a Whiskey Sour with Jack Daniels which I had to bargain down with Mario our unlingual bartender, and it was the most delicious thing ever....surreal, but delicious hahaha. At this point Jimi had the wig and he looked like Bon Jovi.
And then....best part of the day.....an OLD OLD man bought me another drink and didn't make me talk to him, which was awesome....cause Whiskey Sours are kind of addicting....but actually in my opinion was totally retarded cause I looked like crap, no makeup, kinda wasted and generally acting like a fool, plus I was surrounded by 1. Mysterious and alluring Windy 2. Feline and basically F-ing hot Nyna 3. All-out attractive Christy, all of whom totally outshine me, but if that worked for him it works for me! hahaha That's the first time that's ever happened...I felt loved, and I gave him a Japanese bow to show that love. Weird old man.

At this point it all gets a little hazy....but clearly Christy and I danced the spaghetti in a circle of dancing people and fell down in front of a crowd, and I remember that best because I hit my elbow really hard on the floor and it still hurts. And Christy got a cigarette burn from a happy onlooker who applauded our dancing finesse, and we sang Campana Sobre Campana in a taco place very loudly, and hired mariachis to play while we sang, and I made friends with an old old musician and gave him 5 pesos. And we frolicked in the streets, and did makeup in a Liverpool type place while getting weird looks from the employees. And every time we fell or collided with a fellow reveler, we said, "Blame the old man!" Of course he was only responsible for my lack of balance, but it was fun to say. We also had conversations like this:

"Rachel! Rachel we have to make out with someone!"

"But.....why? I hate people!"

"We have to FIND someone, and MAKE OUT with them!!"

"But, .....but....*phases into Bunnyland*"

"RACHEL!!"

"*Phases out of Bunnyland* But, they're Mexicans! And they need mints!"

"That's true. Nyna, where are Jimi and Techi?"

Nyna: "You just asked that 4 times oh my God....."

From hence we caught our ride home, where the next strange adventure began!

We watched the Oscars, and I spilt a huge bowl of popcorn in front of all the Oscar-watching members of the Home, cause my coordination was kind of shot. And we laughed, and rued the day Slumdog Millionaire was made to steal all the awards. And when Sean Penn was awarded for Milk, we said, "You die on Team America, Sean Penn! Go back to the Film Actors Guild!" It was joyous.
Then I felt sick, but managed to get a PnP saying I shouldn't drink so much without eating or mix things like that, and I heartily agree. Then I went to bed, after sacrifically filling Stephanie's water bottle for her, AND carrying a huge garaphone while being rather sick.

Thus concludes our strange adventures. We learned about health! I know we're disgusting, but one learns to love it!

Blame the old man.

Oh for these days....

2009-02-20T19:29:00.000-08:00

This is what I was doing last year around this time. Family Birthday Celebration.
More carefree times, I dare say. We should do this again sometime.

Behold, a PHOTO!

2009-02-16T14:40:00.000-08:00

And of me, too......life is so uncanny is it not?

This is me, being assaulted by the Devil while listening to the Keynote speech at the Annual Activated Year-End Progress Report. Apparently people were photographing the attendees' reactions without their knowledge or consent. Shameful business.

Valentine's Day

2009-02-13T22:19:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year.....a day filled with saps and sappyness, which I shall uncharacteristically partake of by posting my top 10 favorite couples, all fictional, because real-life couples are generally irritating and bothersome people as a general rule. These dear souls inspire me to refrain from slapping the couples I come in contact with everyday, and help me to believe in LOVE and DESTINY and LOVING THINGS!!!

Note that these are not in order....I can't choose between them, they're all so cute and make me so warm and fuzzy.....

Number 10: Harold Crick and Ana PascalHarold and Ana are wonderful....I envy their bond....if any of you don't know who I'm talking about click here. They meet while he's auditing her, and he gives her flours, and sings her Whole Wide World, and she feeds him Bavarian sugar cookies and cuddles with him in a cast! And they are awesome, and I love them. And Ana has the prettiest sleeve ever.

Number 9: Mike Wazoski and Celia
I admire this cyclopic pair for their interracial love which surpasses all things, like Celia being decontaminated, and their terms of endearment, which are THE most hardcore thing. I hope one day to find someone who I can call Googly Bear, and who in turn can call me Schmoopsie-Pooh. Although I could never pull it off like them so I take it back, but you know what I mean. They are the bomb.

Number 8: Captian Jack Sparrow and the two wenchesThey make me laugh, and they slap each other a lot, but the love is totally there.....you can see it in their eyes that they have this bond that will see them through all their woes. It's a bad picture because I didn't have the movie to pick my own snapshot, but look at them! THEY ARE IN LOVE!!! Love, love love love.

Number 7: V and Evey
Again, bad photo....but I love them.....cause V makes Evey a better person even though he's totally messed up himself, and even though he's totally disfigured and she's bald they make each other happy, and....they're just sweet like that. AND V has knife-fighting skills, and they watch The Count of Monte Cristo together. "You find your own tree!"

Number 6: Joel and Clementine My favorite couple from my favorite movie.....you have to watch the movie to grasp them but they're perfect, cause they're perfectly realistic and they wade through their crap and love each other anyways and manage to find each other again even though they don't remember each other at all.....Joel is adorable....Clementine is awesome beyond words....watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and you will begin to understand me :D

Number 5: Kronk and Ms. Birdwell
Look at them....they're so cute all happy and dancing.....Kronk is of course awesome, and Birdwell is flexible, rather ugly, and totally right for Kronk!! They have awesome nicknames too..."Kronky-pooh..." "Miss Birdie-Poo!" Man their children will be hideous....but raised in love and tenderness, which is good, so....but they're so happy and they make raisin bread together! Sniff...tender tender

Number 4: Kumar and the Giant Bag of Weed
Not that one, either.....the really giant one with the arms and legs, who in my opinion is way too exposed in Escape from Guantanamo Bay, which I couldn't get a picture of, but all that to say, I admire their connection. Kumar really adores her, to a point of holy matrimony. It gets intense. You can just see the sparks flying....

Number 3: Brick and the Lamp
I couldn't get a picture of Brick with the lamp, but there is his enamored face. He's totally besotted. And their relationship is wonderful, because it's so simple. Brick loves the lamp. And that's all there is to it. Their link is something we should all learn from.

Number 2: Ron Burgundy and Veronica Corningstone

"Mi corazon es en fuego...FUEGO, JULIO, FUEGO!" "TAKE ME TO PLEASURE TOWN!" "Oh, we're GOING..."
"Look! The most GLORIOUS rainbow ever!" "Do me on it!"

What can I say.....they have this passionate dynamic amore that makes you want to shout it from a MOUNTAIN. THEY HAD SEX LAST NIGHT AND THEY ARE IN LOVE!!! Best couple ever.

Number 1: Jacob and Bella

And I'm not too into Anime, but Edward's face in this picture was too good to pass up, and Bella looks so cute

I wonder how much persecution I'll get for this....I just don't like Edward very much. He's too pained all the time and "perfect" and his relationship with Bella is unnatural and way too intense. Jacob is normal, and super sweet, and more importantly he treats Bella like a normal person. He gets mad at her and they argue in a normal fashion and you can tell he really loves her, whereas Edward treats Bella like a holy cherished doll that he's supposed to worship or something. Anyways, I just like Jacob and Bella together. Of course now there's Reneesme, and Meyer just might write a sequel from her point of view which would be awesome and could change my mind, but till then I love Jacob with Bella, and I like to pretend Edward never came back. :D

Ok, I read Twilight too much. But no matter! You've all seen my sentimental side, and you'd best cherish it because you won't see it again for another year. Happy Valentine's Day!! May you all have tender lovemates with cymbals and chariots and fireworks and Rajah the Tiger!! Kind of a Ben Hur meets Aladdin kinda thing....anyways....I wish you all luck on your romantic endeavours! I for one have no need, for I have something to cheer me up when I'm down, something to hold when I sleep, something to have dinner with on those special nights, and something to tell all my woes to and find comfort. And what else are lovemates good for anyways....plus I have Jesus, who is everything I'll ever need and probably not too pleased with me being up at 2 taking away my sleeptime, which is a very important bonding time for us. So I'm going to go. But you saps have fun. Take care now, bye-bye then.

I'd also like to extend a cheerful Happy Birthday greeting to my little brother Nick. You're the best older brother in the world, I couldn't imagine a better one, and even though you're a YA, which sucks, I'm sure you're awesome enough to handle it. Hug you! Have a happy year with all the nice things added in, etc.

........and the safe word is WHHISKEY.

It's my birthday today

2009-02-12T12:12:00.000-08:00

And praise be to the Hosts, nothing's changed. Except the Friends episode I left off on last night turned out to be titled "The One Where Rachel Smokes". Made me nostalgic I mean that's gotta be a total sign right? Right?

Ugh. Never mind. I have to go cook lunch....Happy Birthday to Serena, Esther, Ben's little sister Theresa, and Abraham Lincoln, who is dead.

And that's about it. 16's the gayest age since the Renaissance. Or however you spell that.

Pretty song

2009-02-10T20:56:00.000-08:00

Dedicated to someone.....you know who you are.....actually you probably don't....who cares! It's a pretty song! Yay!

Watch You Sleeping

I wanna watch you sleeping peaceful
Resting your heart and your soul

I want to learn from the calm with which you
Aim at your dreams and your goals
And I’m sure your stories always will unfold

I try to get you up
But you go down
And you are not ok
You are not ok

I wanna carry you
But you won’t get up
It’s really killing me
You know it’s killing me

I wanna join you sleeping peaceful
Feeling the sun in our room
What a plenty of rays and beaming lights
Surely, it does me good

And I wanna trust the pulse
In which decay is followed by bloom
And I’m sure any flaw will turn out beautiful

I try to get you up
But you go down
And you are not okay

I wanna carry you
But you won’t get up
It’s really killing me
You know it’s killing me

See You Soon

So you lost your trust
And you never should have
No, you never should have

But don't break your back
If you ever hear this
But don't answer that

In a bullet-proof vest
With the windows all closed
I'll be doing my best
I'll see you soon
In a telescope lens
And when all you want is friends
I'll see you soon.

So they came for you
They came snapping at your heels
They come snapping at your heels
But don't break your back
If you ever say this
But don't answer that

In a bullet-proof vest
With the windows all closed
I'll be doing my best
I'll see you soon
In a telescope lens
And when all you want is friends,
I'll see you soon.

And oh, you lost your trust
And oh, you lost your trust
No, don't lose your trust
No, you lost your trust

....bye for now

Birthday wishes and other nonsense

2009-02-08T15:18:00.000-08:00

Haven't posted because there's been nothing to post about.

Days go by like so: Wake up, people are unhappy with my inability to get out of bed. Eat breakfast, or not.....clean kitchen. Walk to school up a very long hill, learn about banal things like herbaceous monocots and the cycle of government in ancient Greece. Walk back. Eat lunch, very rarely not.....clean kitchen. Watch TV or listen to a book during quiet time. Fall half asleep, start awake at 2:00. Clean every communal area in the house. Clean up after people eating lunch late, coffee breaks, kid's snacks, kid's baking projects, etc. Work day ends. Sit and listen to a book. Show up to dinner, pick at food....it's always full of meat and dairy. Shower. Sit and listen to a book while crotcheting. Get dragged to Christy's room by Christy. Mock Christy as she folds laundry and talks about plugs or the odious happenings of Feburary 12th....or whatever happens to cross her mind at the moment. Check mail on Nick's computer. Correct his mandolin playing, get corrected for not smiling. Head to bed at 10:30. Become remotely tired at 1:00. Become very tired and irritable and cough my lungs out at 3:00. Sink back into pillow very unhappy with my sleeping habits. Suddenly it's morning. and people are unhappy with my inability to get out of bed....

Like so. See there's not much you can do to embellish on your blog when that's what happens without fail every day, unless I thought anyone wanted to hear how dirty the house was, which is gay and dull.

Happy Birthday to all my wonderful Aquarian friends and family, who I love very very much: Summer my darlingest ray of sunshine wench, Santi my dear little whiner, Greg my cheering travel partner, and Nick my best older brother ever. You're all the dearest people I could imagine.

And of course the other Aquariuses, some of whom I don't really know, and some of whom greatly disturb and frighten me, but I'm sure they have some lovely qualities: Esther, my birthday companion who causes Heidi and I woe with her strange gifts and lack of tolerance for things we like, Patrick Windy's Mexican-looking younger brother, the other Nick who I hope is well and neurologically fit as a fiddle, Andy Heidi's BEST friend EVER, Renee the Solsberry, Serena Kim's sister who doesn't like to talk which I find very admirable, and Stephanie Finch, who....is a Finch. I wish you all the best of health and happiness, and happy birthdays, with all the nice things that birthdays so demand.

And while we're on wishing people well, I wish good days and meals to Heidi and Juliet, who aren't Aquarius, and I won't say they should be because they will beat me, but they have that general aura of jubilance we tend to carry around, manifested in loud noises and dressing like members of MCR. I hope to have your bawdy graces when I grow up.

And best wishes to our dear celebrity friends that share our sign, a great many of whom I don't especially like, which is odd: Jennifer Aniston, Ashton Kutcher, Oprah, Paris Hilton, John Travolta, Seth Green, and Elijah Wood, who is only on this list for the brilliant work he did on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Spewings on the Hilton witch will be saved for a mature audience.

I extend birthday greetings to James Dean, Clark Gable, and Abraham Lincoln, all quite dead and gone, but Aqauriuses just the same, the latter of whom shares my birthday.

And that's all for today, folks. Tune in next time for long angry paragraphs about something very dreadful coming up on the 15th, planned by my mother and Connie, which greatly GREATLY causes me heaps of discomfort, Nick too. We mourn, but we'll save that for next time.

I hate that purple flower by the way. I don't know why I put it up it makes me so mad

Vacation, vacation, happiness is mine!

2009-01-15T19:31:00.000-08:00

Fa, lala, lala, lala, let's all drink from a stein!

Vacation was/is wonderful! Which was really surprising to me cause I didn't think it would be, but the Lord is merciful. Details will be shared later.............

Do you like Jack?

2009-01-11T17:47:00.000-08:00

ALL MY FRIENDS AND LOVERS....wait, crap that doesn't apply let's try that again.......ALL MY VERY QUALITY FRIENDSSS.....ahahaha GOOD MORNING
AND GOOD EVENING
AND GOOD TIMES INBETWEEN

Christy's back. She got tanned and freckled and is as lovely as ever. And I made a new friend....he's 12 years old, golden-coloured, rich and smooth!

and he comes in a 1 liter bottle.....what do you take me for a pervert......ahaha yessir his name is JOHNNIE WALKER!! I've got daisies, I've got sunshine....and Black Label, and since I have such a head-start I decided to start a collection of things that induce envy in Rupert. All I need now is 15 old-man vests and hats, the entire American Eagle wardrobe, the odd fisherwoman here and there, and our wide collection of pencil crayons. Ahaha and perhaps some old-fashioned happiness, and a pasta machine. And a villa with vineyards and bearskin rugs, and a penthouse in New York, and green eyes that aren't myopic. So we're making progress as you can see ahahhaha

David Wilson is online....remember him.....that random boy whose name was whispered, giggled and screamed allllll night in a certain Wordstock dorm.....YOU ROBBED ME OF MY SLEEP WILLY BOY YOU SHALL PAY!!!

hmm. I want to open my bottle.
"Sarah! Forgiveness."
hmm. Perhaps not but it calls to me....I now identify with this call that everyone's talking about.....my absinthe calls to me as well. It reminds me of something rather funny that happened today. Jimi said "You're going to be lezzing out with the Green Fairy", and I said "no, that's you. You're a lesbian cause you do girls!" And then we laughed, and continued to make lezzy jokes one with another. The Contigo spirit still sings in my bones, so I can be most jubilant in people's presence that normally disturbs me, and we give thanks. Your mother still sings in my bones, and we give thanks. GIGIDDY GOO

In any case, what else is new.....ooh I found a new cornerstore today and they love me more cause they give me free shots! Yaay for Jimi who discovered this happy truth! Sadly they only give tequila, and I hate tequila, however I was watching my pals imbibe this grossness, and the storeman said, "Do you like Jack?" I wanted to say, "Why, is he your unmarried cousin who just moved across the border whose real name is Juan but now goes by Jack?", but I knew this wasn't the case and the thought of whiskey made my heart sing. He ended up pouring me tequila aged in bourbon casks, which to me doesn't make sense, but wtv, cause it was REEAAAALLLLY yummy, for being tequila.

God you know I wonder how I ever managed posting when this blog was public. Lord bless us everyone.

We sojourn to Big Bear tomorrow, and I want all of you to intercede that the INTENSELY LARGE amount of total fags sojourning with us will have no effect on our happy inner circle. There's Chinese people, small demonic children, Rihanna-lovers, JETTs, married people, and Scorpios, and they're going to be all around us spreading their homo seed, but we will STAND STRONG!! Our friends Johnnie and the Green Fairy will keep us full of love and tolerance for these vacation-usurpers, and they shall not infect us with their BuzzKillington attitude in the POTK!!

Yes.....Christie will be caring for the demons, and there are far more of them then there are of us, but we will prevail.....against the darkness.....THIS IS WAAAAAARRR

No, they have good hearts, but I swear if I hear,
"One time, in (location undisclosed).....I made out.....let's go drink a beer and get SMASHED cause Word time is for losers!!"
or, "Hey, we're friends, right? can I have some?"
or, "I like hip-hop, and you're gay if you don't. Scorpios RULE!!"
or, "I love lipgloss! OMG, GF let's go parteeee, and I totally hate you cause you're pretty"
........I shall wreck havocy vengeance on their unsuspecting heads. And if I see a broomstick in anyone's hand, or even lying around fagland, let's just say that broomstick is GOING somewhere, to a secret place that they've kept hidden and have guarded well.....a place that no one's ever beeeeen(except in a few cases). It's going somewhere.
And the marriage counselor? Let's just say they won't be around to work through the large and pain-filled tension occuring between the broomstick, and the cavities it will be splintering through.

It's going to be a wonderful vacation.

Here's a photo

Oh for the purity of the '40's.....I love you all.
Love, love love love, love love.
I love you
you you you

Day 3: Blehhhhhhhh

2009-01-03T22:36:00.000-08:00

You know it occurs to me this is actually Day 4 but never mind that. Today was exactly the same as yesterday, except I had more food today, and I got decent Word for the first time in a long time, and I was told that I could be attractive if I grew my hair out, dressed decently and exercised very faithfully. My problem with that is that my hair doesn't grow, I'm not about to spend money on 'decent' clothes when I'm perfectly happy with the way I dress, and I imagine physical activity to be on the same level for me as praising the Lord is for Satan. But one day a blind person who looks like Gerard Butler is going to find me and then we'll all be pleased as pie.

I'm reading The Scarlett Letter.....the Puritans were effing depressing, I'm telling you what....and it occurs to me that Hester's a weird name.....could be a middle name.....Nathaniel Hawthorne's kind of obsessed with making things as indirect as possible, so it's quite a taxing read, but we're praising the Lord......praising the Lord. I could have AIDS. That would not be cool. Thank you Jesus that You haven't seen fit to give me AIDS.

And that's about it

Abstinence rocks

2009-01-02T23:15:00.000-08:00

Posting from quarantine.....again.....but fear not! No longer will I bore you with long monologues filled with doubts, despair and lyrics from the Killers.....I have photos of jubilance, given to me by my DEAR friend Kim, whose soul shall shine like the stars one day, and if it doesn't I'll kill all the stars so that it'll shine brighter than anything alive.
I love Kim. She is a real friend, and one of the numerous ways I can tell is because only real friends will give you pictures of jubilant times to post on your blog to make it look cool. Kim, you're the bomb. I miss you. This post is in your honor, and words will never express my total joy that you're not dead. Hug you!

ON to photos.....

I look very white and flubby in all of these.....like that tire man but never mind that. This is Kim's birthday, and Santi is....abusing us? And we are taking shots that contain ABSOLUTELY no alcohol.....so if this blog falls into the hands of apostates, they can't use that against us. Hahaha!! GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE APOSTATES YOU!! apostate....rhymes with prostate....little prostates hahaha
Hmm, Sara looks like she just died....coooooooool
On the hood of our van at a lookout point....the moon looked really cool that night, it made a little triangle with two other stars that were probably planets cause they were really bright...if Kim's soul does not outshine them I shall kill them....tee hee....anyways Kim is in possesion of a SMITING stick, while Santi plays the unfortunate, smitten victim. Good times.
And this is me, making a typically hideous face, while recieving some love from Kim. I guess that's obvious. Kim I'm so happy you're not dead! i can't get over it I'm just really happy

I lost one of those gloves I want it back.....we love Buchanans....however you spell it....I look very...what's the word.....lumpy! but never mind that, it's the three of us, and we are happyyyyy, us dear friends.....even lumpy people have friends....
Now you may look upon my wonderful friends and be most envious of me, for although my temple of God is oversized and exposed to chicken pox, and my brain is....really weird, and my blog has no pictures, and we're all drowning in little piles of mierda, I have WONDERFUL FRIENDS!! who I do not deserve, and all should marvel at their wonderfulness, and be amazed. I love them very much. And these aren't the only ones, mind you......so many I can't even name them all.....or if I could, I'm not going to, because I'm tired. This doesn't mean I don't love them, though. Goodnight, God bless, and somebody get online. 2009's looking to be a kick-ass year....

Day 2: The Suspenseful Stakeout

2009-01-02T15:03:00.000-08:00

Hello, everybody.....well for those who don't know the glorious news, I've been exposed to chicken pox, and am thus barred from the world for an indefinite amount of time....probably six days or something of the sort, unless of course I catch it in which case more like six weeks. So this is Day two...day one was filled with drama which I shall not get into...... but from here on I intend to make a log so as not to go entirely insane. Ringin' in the New Year with a childhood disease....yes sir it's a good day to be alive. I actually am quite thankful, I've had nothing but my thoughts since I was locked up in the guest room, which was about 20 hours ago, so a computer is greatly appreciated.
It was originally going to be Windy, my brother and I, but they've decided I'm the only real threat so I'll be the only one quarantined....I'm happy for the other people because I would never wish this on anyone so at least they got out alive. I think someone's trying to kill me......I already snapped but I went happy psycho and now they're trying to strip that from me.....but we won't let them no sir!!

So, I have a room, where I'll be spending the majority of my time....it's very cold, and the heater doesn't work it's just sitting here taking up space but praise the Lord. I gave Dad a list of stuff that's missing in here, like trash can, my school, laundry basket, etc, but he never came back....serves me right for asking him over someone who's all there.....oh and the only shower I can use doesn't have hot water, which normally I wouldn't mind except that it's deathly freezing around here, so we're praising the Lord.....and listening to cars on the highway by our house. Yaaay.....

Song of the day: Mr. Brightside

This will forever remind me of cleaning the storage dump we used for a room not so long ago, and a certain fisherwoman...........

Speaking of fish, Happy Birthday Hopi!! I hope you're back at Contigo by now, for reasons undiscussed hahaha......have a smashing birthday and get very drunk in my honor, yes yes? Have a wonderful 18th year, etc etc. Here is a painingly beautiful picture of you. And all of you have pleasant lives, and get online so I can chat you from my incarceration. Peace and love

She's got her halo and wings.........

2009-01-01T00:15:00.000-08:00

....Hidden under his eyes
But she's an angel for sure
She just can't stop telling lies
But it's too late for his love
Already caught in a trap
His angel's kiss was a joke
And she is not coming back

Because Heaven sends and Heaven takes
Crashing cars in his brain
Keep him tied up to a dream
And only she can set him free
And then he says to me

Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now
Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now

She's got a criminal mind
He's got a reason to pray
His life is under the gun
He's got to hold every day

Now he just wants to wake up
Yeah, just to prove it's a dream
Cause she's an angel for sure
But that remains to be seen

Because Heaven sends and Heaven takes
Crashing cars in his brain
Keep him tied up to a dream
And only she can set him free
And then he says to me

Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now
Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now

Stupid on the streets of London
James Dean in the rain
Without her it's not the same
The same, the same, but it's alright

Because heaven sends and heaven takes
Crashing cars in his brain
Keep him tied up to a dream
And only she can set him free
And then he says to me

Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now
Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now
Again and again

Good moments, good moments.....and um, HAPPY NEW YEAR!! The Killers and I are having a gay ol time, singing songs that remind me of a freezing swing on my lawn and Leyland being moved in the spirit lolll........

Shaking like a devil when she lets me go......Oh Jennifer.....you know I'll always try, before you say goodbye,

Leave the bourbon on the shelf.....what?!?! You don't have bourbon? WHY NOT?!?!! This, this is NOT good......what? You'll be in the North of Baghdad? I thought you were going to be in the SOUTH!! this changes everything!

Well I'll drink your MOTHER by myself.......hmm.....here we are, all together as we sing this song.....just waiting for something, not sure what.....

I love you all endlessly! Yay! And I was quite satisfied, until Rupert stopped making sense and Katy Perry started singing I Kissed a Girl at top volume on the TV.....and now there's just me, and Brandon singing away through my mom's fuzzy speakers, and three sips of C-Ice, and the TV blaring, and small amounts of high-quality champagne pouring into SGA's glasses.....oh Coldplay's playing from the TV...weird.....Lovers in Japan....this song used to make me happy when I was sad, back in the day, not so long ago.........and look at that it's 12:30, gotta go to bed before my dad unleashes some more of that home-baked anal fury........

It's been a long December, and there's reason to believe that maybe this year will be better than your mom.......gigiddy goo!

That wrecking ball is ringing.....etc etc

Boredom is Satan's way of getting people to jump out windows

2008-12-30T22:41:00.000-08:00

And your mom, she can't do, she can't do me like she used to...

I've found that motherizing songs that make me saddish is the key to having them NOT make me saddish. I'll get them all out of the way and then get on to the main purpose of this post.

I'm thinking bout doing your mom........I'm thinking about hitting that soon....

Leave your mother on the shelf....and I'll do her by myself...oh I'll do her endlessly, mothers are for me, and they're so satisfied

And she says to me, Do me now, do me now do me now do me now

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.............but me and your mom oh yeaaahhhhh.....all these moms that I've done......

Oh (random person)'s mother, I've been waiting on you.....hahahaha "well that's funny kid, cause I've been coming for you"...of course you have, you mother you.....

hahahaha I apologize......alright now what I was going to say is that I commend whoever voted for my profile man.....we should have coffee sometime and compare notes because I've always had a strange attraction for him too. I have to warn you though if he does exist I get first dibbs. I'm betting that was Christy......she'll all weird and desireish, pff before you know it she'll start chasing Scorpio bakers....oh wait she DID AHAHAHAHAHA

sorry.

I could have made it much worse though. Moving on...........

.......I never liked your hair or those people that you lie with and I'm not satisfied....um, moms.....crap never mind

OH DARLIN DON"T YOU SEE I CAN"T BE SATISFIED

For reasons unknown........

....and now I have the FRESHEST cereal......

2008-12-29T19:05:00.000-08:00

"Of COURSE you can! Everything in this ROOM is eatable! even I'm eatable! But that is called cannibalism my dear children and is in fact frowned upon in most societies."

Hmm....I'm munching on a perfect, crunchy apple, and it's reminding me of someone in my HWF who was going on about how long it'd been since they had one but I really can't remember who it was....in any case on to posting! Of yore and of planes and a fat lady's head! I'm bored and you're sane and I'm going to bed!

Na nana NA na na na, nanana NA nana.

Um...yes, the subject at hand........apples? CHICKEN PIES YOU GREAT LUMMOX!! No what WAS i talking about....Christmas....no but I could...it COULD be ahhaha....let's do that.

Everyone liked their presents, except I got the menfolk shirts size XS instead of S so they look like muscle shirts but that's ok. And so's your mom. Actually I was most nontriumphant on most of Christmas....but I saw my wench! Twice! With your mom! I love Summer. Summer Summer Summer. And the Best Line of the Day Award for Dec. 25th goes to the person who said quote...

"I make videos, but, you know, nothing profesthsional. I can't stand those profesthsional programs, they're so confuthsing and so not eathsy to use. Like Windows Movie Maker."

..............AAAAAAAAAHAHAHA........see THAT right there is why this site's private. You know I ALMOST didn't go for it I thought 'you know what is this in bad taste' but you know what I went for it, and I am SO glad it did. Ohhhh God. Worth it. Totally worth it.

Hmm. But I'm back now.

...Amy hit the atmosphere......and then she caught a rocket ride back to the gutter.....and she's never coming back, I fear......but she did your mom so she feels a lot better
Sorry I could not resist.....all these "exotic vegetable chips" I'm consuming are giving me a no-trans-fat high of giddiness. Vegetable chips and 'light' eggnog....there's nothing light about it, there's just a tunnel...oh there's the light! NO MURPHY NO!! DON"T GO INTO THE LIGHT!!!

Ooh the flight coming here was funny...except that I didn't get to give Santi a proper goodbye and goodbye hug, that part wasn't very funny, but then again he's probably stocked on my hugs to last him for the next few Olympics so it's all for the best. That whole Home probably is....in hindsight it always freaks me out how much time I spend hugging people. Probably annoys them to seagulls.
Anyway, the flight. I spent some quality time with Gretel, whose father I have to pay back, which I haven't explained to my parents yet.....btw if y'all can proactively pray for that, keys of non-total-anal-fury and stuff, I really need it. In any case, Gretel's a great guy. He's like Santi, but worse, and I don't know him so I feel a twinge of of inhibition when I make mother jokes around him, but other than that it was most triumphant. He found the shadow of the plane on the ground, and took great care in pointing out geographical and random landmarks, like so:

"Dude look a mountain with snow!!"

"Look! A lake! Right, right there where there's rocks and desert and stuff."

"Hey dude look there's tiny houses! Haha! And, and tiny cars! Dude there's a soccer field I remember that soccer field....actually wait there's five...never mind..."

"Dude, dude wouldn't that be weird, if you were standing somewhere, and the plane shawdow like passed whooooo...that'd be awesome. Weird.....dude that'd be so weird."

Overall a real treasure, that fellow. Quite the observant randomite....he met my dad, who felt the need to spend a good ten minutes giving guidance on where to find planes when they land in the terminal, which made me laugh. And I almost forgot he was wearing my scarf, but luckily I got it in the end, and I told him his face was a ring of fire with a mountain, and an eagle on it. It was jubilant.

I should probably go, however, the Elephant goes, Macak! And I am so happy I got to see my dear friends, especially Heidi, Santi, and Kim, and I was delighted to find that Juliet's a total non-homo....there should be more like her in the world....well if there were more like her, they'd all probably war and kill each other off so I take that back, but Jules, watching the almost-fight escalate with Mauro is a memory I will always treasure, and I'm so glad you're not gay.
I was not so delighted to find that the HWF as a whole is super different and has grown an anus with a mouth speaking great things that threatens to take over the whole body, but I have faith, I believe with all my heart that this is a bad but temporary stage and can and will be overcome, and I'm going to pray the gayness out, and I know the Lord listens to me because this morning I prayed He'd give them a real meal with good edible food, and as I speak they're munching Carl's Jr. and Cielo's chicken with "gravy--esta super rico--it's so yummy" hahaha.....I love Cielo's running translations of herself.....anyways, all that to say, you victims of navel abuse over there prepare for some serious Heavenly love and goodness and stuff--you are going to find a balance by God's grace because I refuse to give up on things, they will get better and I am NOT going to live here or move to South Africa.

So that's that. I love you guys!! You're the best and thanks for letting me stay with you.

The cow goes, YOUR MOM!!

Hum ba dum dum dum

2008-12-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

Bump, bumbum badum bum dum dee dee.....oh, hello children!!

Well, my dear ones, as Aro would say, it's been too long. I've been utterly absorbed in Greg's plane tickets and the discomfort of my turtleneck singing outfit for the past few weeks, so I haven't had time to shower, much less post on my blog. But now I've done both, and I feel great! Yee haw!

It's Home Council here....we had turtle and mint ice cream as a snack, which was chosen by the Snack Committee.....Christy make a note of that we really need a Snack Committee in our Home, I think it would jubilate the place very nicely...in any case, there's been lots of shiz going down around here.........going down, coming up.....ahahahaha I just thought of great Mother joke. You have to really consider them around here cause they're way too overused in these parts. Just the other day Hopi threatened to hit Santi in the face every time I made one around her, so I made good on that promise and told her Mother jokes till the cows came home, and Santi was most upset, so now we have an arrangement that every time Santi pokes me with his Memory Book, I tell Hopi a Mother joke, and she hits him. This happens fairly often.
Anyways, we sang for an overweight, slightly balding police chief with four gold teeth today......it was a woman.....we see her too much for comfort....but in her defense, her eyes are a lovely shade of green, albeit heavily disguised with wrinkles and greasy makeup. Most intense. And, on the behest of the State Police, today I consumed an entire steak for the first time in a year and six months....I feel violated. My digestive system is having its revenge on the rest of my body, and lines from Skinny Bitch are casually running through my head, such as, "Meat is f***king bad for you, girlfriend! Every time you eat meat you're consuming hate and stress, because that's what the animal felt right before it died a horrible death at the hands of b***tards in slaughterhouses. Stop being a b*tch and eat nothing but soy products, and watch out for ingredients like lactose and casin, cause they're sh*t for your system! Got it, f*ckface?"
I'm sorry you had to see that..........moving on......

TUNA TUNA TUNAFISH TUNA TUNAFISH

ahaahahahahaha my head is swimming with Peter Godly, Charlie the Unicorn, and the Phantom. And memory verses....on Children...and Shepherds and Forgiveness...I think they're all on the same page.....ehhhgh...lots of memory verses.......in any case, that's the gist of things. I love you all exceedingly....most pleasing to the Lord.

Pictures of me...pictures of me....

2008-11-13T13:17:00.000-08:00

....Up upon my blog, for the world to see.....

Pictures of me....pictures of me.....

To remind us how conceited I can be....

ahaha GOD my rhymes kick ass. So, pictures of jubilance for my readers that never comment....hint hint....alright, I just finished looking and I found two whole ones with me in them, which was more than I expected.

Here is my nape piercing, taken the day after it was done.....it looks better now I promise

And here is my favorite picture of the four of us....one of the few.....we'll have to take some more when I come down and we revel in such frivolities
The faces....so priceless.....and anyone who knows Santi's motives for his position gets 500,000 points from Gryffyndor...and I miss that shelf in the back. It was pretty.

Hmm...that's about all.....I read for 13 hours straight two days ago, and since then have all but lost forever my appetite. Oddnesses all around. Pray I can get everyone's Cmas presents before I leave--it's not likely I'll get a trip up to the States anytime soon. Love youuuuuuu

Hmm I wonder if I spelt Gryffyndor right....leave it to the HP nerds I suppose

News and Notices

2008-11-09T11:46:00.000-08:00

Freedays in Ensenada.........by definition uneventful and simultaneously dramatic. PTL.

People are mourning losses here, recovering from headaches there, and I am quietly observing these joyous things while planning Christmas presents for my happy wappy family. Amy's hitting the atmosphere, and although she also has a rocket ride back to the gutter two days before New Years, we give thanks. I'm quite happy.

Congratulations are in order to Santi, who is officially off PS today I think. I'm sure it's either today or tomorrow, in which case I suppose just hang in there.

The weather is gay, and last night we spent long hours watching videos with lines like these:

"No, no, no, I'm a WINK, alright? I'm not some interracial porn-loving legless hobo, who was raised in an orphanage in Kansas under the name of Francis Mginin....fell in love with one of the nuns who raised me and ran away with and started a family in Eastern Kentucky, acquiring a gambling debt with the Mexican Mafia....came home to find my house and family torched in a terrible arson, killed two family members of the Mafia, found refuge in Louisiana after the chaos of Hurricane Katrina...found enough money in a flooded home to get here.....saw you mowing your lawn, reminded me of my dead son Louis....decided to become your NEW father and...slowly poison your real father...snuck into your house periodically to talk to you, thus assuming the role of father figure, and try to impregnate your mother while she sleeps.......that's NUTS!! THAT"S NOT HAPPENING, OK?!?! I AM A WINK! Our urine has bits of GOLD in it."

This is the stuff of legend. I'll leave you to bask in its mythical glory for a moment.

Ok. Yes, freedays, freedays.....I fill mine with those special mediocre movies that one always kind of has a slight hankering to see and yet never sees due to their being so...mediocre...and yet the hankering remains, so I satiated myself with these films. Films like 10,000 BC (sexual dreaded people fight with black tribal people against other black tribal people ruled by a man under a mobile tent), Zathura (one cute child one weird looking teen and one ugly child who battle lizardy things in their floating house and encounter themselves in time warp and think incestual thoughts unintentionally), and Street Kings (Keanu Reeves doing what he does best--making Keanu Reeves faces, while black people around him shoot and curse and talk about cops and their levels of cleanliness).
After this, I looked up Absinthe in the Wikipedia, and watched the latter half of Get Smart (the 40-year-old virgin kisses Dwayne Johnson....lol....). I then lusted after Masi Oka. And I don't want any comment on that. If Heidi can like UGLY PEOPLE from fantasy movies I can like the adorable Japanese man. Long live Hiro Nakamura!
I then had a nightcap of X Men and made fun of the way Wolverine puts on the ugly Xmen sweater and lets it hang off his shoulders like he's a woman. It was a womanly act, and I made fun of it. Then I went to bed on an audio with giant uncomfortable headphones, and no Christy to watch over me and cackle as I slumber.

On Politics

2008-11-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

Well, apparently the elections was yesterday. I don't know who won yet cause I was kind of asleep directly after prayer when the Endtime/politic followers began discussing it. But praise the Lord.
I imagine most blogs will be posting about this grand event. This is just an exercise in posting on something I know absolutely nothing about.

So.....presidents.........ok you know what here's a VIDEO to express my hidden but very overpowering knowledge on this topic. I don't know how true or funny it really is because I don't know jack about McCain except that he sounds just like Bush on the radio. But it has my favorite song, so it's totally worth it.

He has a lot of friends!

Click here

Newnesses

2008-10-18T02:10:00.001-07:00

I have resolved never to complain about anything that is truly bothering me again. Nick told me that with a mind like mine, I should never speak it, and I've come to realize that's true because I'm a horribly negative thinker and everything that comes out of my mouth is a complaint, which means I spend most of my time whining about my life and bemoaning my fate when I could be doing something useful with it. We'll see how long this keeps up.

And that's about it. But don't tell Scotty, cause Scotty doesn't know.

In other news of newness....I walked around town with Christy....again...it was most tranquil, leading to severe boredom. But PTL.
And Clara left!! And it basically sucks donkey hoof, because she was basically wonderful, and her child called me mother for a whole day once, when she was traumatized by her small and well-meaning Aunt Lauri. We share a special bond, Julie and I, mostly consisting of me going, "Hi Julie!" and she going, "AAAAAAA" and me going, "Well, nice talking with you. I hate Cancers anyways! Whoopdeedoo! Have some cheese" and then she going "Cheeeeeese" and smiling her wonderful Paone smile. The third generation is upon us....we cower in awe.

I would also like to state that Clara is among that blessed circle of Argentines who are not concieted and generally bothersome. And she is funny, and she is kind to me even though I can't take care of children, unlike many mothers, and she likes my blog. The latter fact seals the deal that she's basically really intensely awesome.

I love you Clara!! Without you here I might as well join TJ.....sigh. Go rock the world and raise the third generation of Paones while your husband plays metal and stuff. Maybe you can go on stage sometimes, and jump around and scream "YEAAAAH!!! ALRIGHT!!! YEAAAH!!!" inbetween songs while everyone's tuning, like Jaz's wife did that fateful Wordstock. That'd be hardcore.

Here's a picture I drew for you
See that's you holding Julie, and me giving her cheese, and we are smiling. And for some reason I look like I have dreadlocks, and I don't know why that is, but you get the general aura of love and stuff.
It says my request could not be processed...wonder what that means...oh well I love youuuuu alllll

Something for the soul

2008-10-13T13:50:00.001-07:00

I stand quietly at the counter, faithfully scrubbing away at a stubborn bit of oatmeal stuck to the counter, thinking about Eurotrip. Specifically the train scene where the perverted Italian is sitting next to Jamie the nerdy twin. I stand, scrubbing, playing this scene in my head.

"Jamie."

*Nervous look* "What?!?"

"Big tunnel."

*Jamie looks at the perverted Italian, who has a repulsive demure smile on his ugly face as they enter the tunnel and darkness envelopes them...*

--As this happens in my head, a child screams from across the tennis court very disturbedly.

I smile. Little coincidences sent from Heaven to grace my day and bring me joy.

I should write Hallmark cards.

...."SCOTTY DOESN"T KNOW, SCOTTY DOESN"T KNOW, SCOTTY DOESN"T KNOW...."

Of a night with my mother

2008-10-05T03:43:00.000-07:00

Greetings, children. I thought I'd divulge you all in a special story about how I went to the Olive Garden with my mom, complete with intense language and completely irrelevant yet juicy details.
Off we went in Mom's document-strewn car, which more resembles a small space shuttle because it has a power button to turn it on and off and a touch screen for the aircon and shows a little radar of the car motor and basically looks like a computer with seats and seatbelts. It gets 48 mpg average. Basically hardcore. In any case, off we went; Mom driving and discussing Sarah Palin's inadequacy in the vice-presedential debate, Dad sitting in the front seat and debating the point, and myself, comfortably wedged against the back of Mom's chair, amongst stacks of research. Most intense.
After dropping Dad off at Barnes and Noble (where he would later read Cuba Libre)(how am I doing with the irrelevant yet juicy details) we sojourned to the one and only Olive Garden, the Italian restaurant that serves plates heaped with enough greasy starchy food to feed three fat ladies. In the waiting room we waited while wondering of the woes of the other waiting waifs, and the waiters, with wrath. The tender, benevolent kind of wrath, with good intentions. Mom talked about her new discovery of Chianti, which I now know is an Italian wine grown in Tuscany, particularly between two small towns the names of which I cannot recall and owned by a family named B-something. I remember these things because she reiterated them about 6 or 7 times during our conversation. I spoke of my socks, which are new. She indulged me with a condescending sound like "hmmmm" at which point I thought to myself, Soon my galactic powers will overwhelm the world, and then, THEN I will hmmmm YOU.
It was at this point that a very short Mexican waitress that did her makeup like Magdalena would have in a "your soul is a butterfly release it into the wild" attitude ushered us to a table, where I thoroughly enjoyed wheeling back and forth on their very-wheely chairs for about 5 minutes. We also had a lull in the conversation at this time.
Now, directly after this our waiter arrived, and you can thank him for inspiring me to write this monologue of sputtering because if it were not for his existence, this post wouldn't have one either. He introduced himself as Philip. Twice. Coincidentally another waiter at Ihop earlier that day did the same thing, except his name was Salomona and his voice was the closest thing to Borat's that I've ever heard--I kid you not. Lots of interesting souls round these parts. I fail to mention that this man's nametag read Philbo, and I was tempted to wonder if this was intentional or not. Another mystery unsolved.
To get back on topic, this man could literally be termed the muse of my creative being. He overflourished everything he did and repeated every third word multiple times before moving on to the remainder of the sentence. I'll give you a visual. Imagine a pale avaraged-height man with a scruffy goatee and unshaven look, extremely skinny hands, googly brown eyes, a rather high voice that stutters a lot, a strange way of walking and a generally overexuberant way of being. Now imagine this person opening a wine bottle by picking up a napkin, twirling it and practicing this technique several times until he was satisfied it was perfected, folding it over his arm, reaching for and then retracting from the cork with his hand, again several times, finally grasping the cork, twisting it open very slowly, finding a place to put the cork (after some deliberation he finally decided on the tray) and delicately pouring the wine, wiping the neck and mouth before and after pouring, WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY trying the entire time to turn the wine bottle at a different angle and commenting on the wine's origins by making vague and/or corny jokes, and chuckling at them while trying to talk through his chuckling, but obviously having a very difficult time of it. I'm going to try to say that sentence all in one breath now.
It didn't work--I got as far as "before and after pouring". But regardless it's very important that you focus on trying to picture this because it was like the universe's epiphanies unfolding before my eyes. The man was fascinating. It befuddled me more than War and Peace, which is one half French which forces you to have to continually refer to the translations at the bottom and the other half inpronouncable Russian names, and of course all the characters each have 5 names that you have to memorize to make any sense of the story. But in any case you get my point. But he and Mom had a gay old time--him doing all of the above which I shall not retype, and Mom jubilantly exclaiming that Chianti is not from a valley named Chianni but in fact between two towns in Tuscany etc., because she had just looked it up and was quite happy to have bested a waiter in Olive garden about something Italian-related. During our meal he layed a fork down on the table, took away the salt and pepper for no apparent reason, picked the fork back up, and walked away. He returned the fork about two minutes later and apologized profusely inbetween bad jokes and snorting chuckles. Ooh I should have counted the times he came by our table.....definitely would have been a two-digit number. Oh well. Praise the Lord.
Well, while all this Philip the Overexuberant and Generally Very Odd Waiter business was going on, a great many other things happened which I shall share with you. I got a Strawberry Daquiri sin booze just for the queer experience of it all, and it being too sweet I felt compelled to pull out my flask filled with lime concentrate and empty the entire content of the bottle into my sugary liquid delight. This much embarrassed my mother, adding to my delight. She said it looked like I was an alcoholic. If only you knew, Mother, if only you knew. I think if she wasn't overcome by the shock of it--which of course she no doubt would be--she could be rather proud of me for kicking the habit. But I digress. We engaged in lively conversation on a variety of topics, but mostly dementia and alcoholism and how the two are related, which was fascinating. Old people are astounding. And I never knew that heavy drinking throughout life physically shrinks the brain and induces Alzheimer's and dementia in 50% of alcoholics. It also kills all your liver cells, turning a once-functioning organ into a massive floating piece of scar tissue. Those were my mother's exact words. Most motivating. I guess now we know why this person never remembers anything:

To continue with my tale, I ate shrimp. It was yummy. At Mom's intense behest I had my first bite of steak in 1 year and 4 months. Oddly enough I now don't like the taste. It tastes like cheap Ramen broth that hasn't fully disentegrated so it's kind of chalky. Like that.
Along came the bill. Of course, this being delivered by Philip it could not go without remarkable incident. He neglected to charge us for one glass of Merlot that my mother had consumed, and bade us keep it "our little secret", besmirched with snorting chuckles. Mom indulged him. I laughed openly at him, which Mom tried to comment on implying that I was laughing at her somehow, but I knew better. I don't think he did though.
Well, after a short disengaging walk in the rain to where the small electric car was parked, we drove away after picking up Dad, where they continued their debate on Sarah Palin and the economy whilst I wedged myself in the back amongst stacks of research and quietly listened to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. (It's the one I put on repeat all day long the week I left when I cleaned my room incessantly Heidi).
I'm writing this post inbetween snippets of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which is loading ever so slowly on faulty Internet. I forgot how much I liked Sean Connery, except in Entrapment. That movie sucked on donkeyhind-flavored lollipops, and I hope it's destroyed in the Second Coming, along with caramel and children.
Well, I'll see you all sometime I hope. Lots of love and don't read this post too many times in a row--I know with my totally awe-inspiring skills it's tempting, but overdosing on my writings can lead to serious mental disorginizations and disorders.
It's PARTY TIME
P A R T.......WHY? BECAUSE I GOTTA!!!!!!!!!

For you

2008-09-27T01:49:00.000-07:00

I find this eccentric little song very comforting. I hear it a lot these days. And ten out of the twelve of you will probably not like it because to the trained or untrained ear there's nothing particularly special about it. Anyways, click here. I highly recommend it for anyone who is somewhere they do not want to be.

My first private post ever

2008-09-27T00:42:00.000-07:00

Dear readers, if you have made it thus far and are actually reading my blog, brace yourselves. This marks the dawning of a new era--an era of private blogging, where only a select few are deemed entrance to this sacred site. You are the elite, deemed worthy and hand-picked to read the rantings springing from my new rated inspirations.

........Actually, I figure my inspirations and rantings etc will be about the same.....a few incidents like walking into dinner with someone reading my blog's post imitating my dad and Nick aloud to everyone present moved me to make it private. Anyways here's some of the stuff that's been going on lately that I feel more at liberty to tell you now that the whole area can't read it...

Last week I accidentally called Christy a whore for stealing my water in front of my dad. He was kind of horrified. We were trying really hard not to laugh....and we managed to wait till we left the room, which was a blessing.
I recently discovered my feet grew exactly one size.....which sucks. But PTL....perhaps someday the Antichrist forces will create a toeprint scan and I'll be required to infiltrate some top-secret place where the guard is the same size as me and I'll be used of the Lord. If that made any sense to you I would like to marry you someday.
Moving on...I've been doing school, and cleaning the house, and doing school, and cleaning the house. I saw 300 the other day and I forgot how attractive the one guy is with the long blondish hair that jumps off Leonidas' back and stabs the emissaries. He's my favorite. Ever. Heidi thinks he's ugly, but then again Heidi thinks everyone's ugly except for ugly people that star in movies based on fantasy novels, which she then thinks are the hottest thing ever. It's all about the ugly people in movies based on fantasy novels. Yup.
Micheal and Amy are married. Yaaaay!! I like marriages. I think they're grand.
Nick complimented me on my favorite green sweater that no one ever notices out of the blue. He and I are kindred spirits. I think it's awesome that after 2 years of not living together, I come back and within 3 days we're saying the same totally random things at the same time. Must be one of those Aquarian anomalies.
I found my journal again. This merits another yay. Yaaaaay!! Christy read the first page, and I wanted to hit her very much, but then I remembered the words, "Sarah!.......Forgiveness."
"Yo quiero pancakes! Dale mwa pancakes! Zip Zip bloody zip PANCAKES!!"
"Poor baby....pancakes must be street word for crack!"
I learned 5 new words this week: erudite, hackneyed, protagonist, milieu, and transience. Most intense.
I've also learned that lots of people here think I like men only based on personality. I found that quite flattering--makes me seem deep. Tee hee....whether or not that's actually true is for them to have an opinion on and me to wonder about, because I don't know. I know Herbert better than I know myself, which of course isn't saying very much, because Herbert is stupid, and probably dead or kidnapped. But you see my point.
I'm ashamed to say that I actually like stupid highschool and college movies, with the exception of Highschool Musical, which was created by Obtherion himself for gay people. Ahahaha I just said the words Highschool Musical on my blog....how gay is that.....I feel like I soiled myself.
It's 1:00 AM. Double yaaaay!! Humdeedum.....as you can see the new privateness of the blog makes my post doubly as interesting, cause only you and 11 other people can read it. You're like my 12 disciples, except I doubt you've learned of me very much, and you won't find rest unto your souls here cause that's what Jesus is for, but as you can see, I'm basically REALLY interesting. Yup. Giggidy giggidy goo!!
....and you are no doubt one of them, if you are reading this....bwaaahahaha

Hum. I think that's about it. I want to go home for Christmas, very much. Hopefully I shall. Pray for it, please, because otherwise I very much doubt it will work.
Ooh, and I heard the All-American Rejects song today, the one we listened to a bunch the week I left. Gave me a feeling of general jubilant euphoria.
I still say ooh, a lot. It bothers me excessively. Oh well.

...Swing, swing, swing, from the tangles of.........

Travis........mate.......cold weather........

2008-09-15T00:29:00.000-07:00

......cable Internet....Fall (the season).....Summer (the person).....room changes......sushi.......freenight.....more sushi.......room changes.....Juno (a delightful pregnant film).......the fact that I only have one pair of shoes in the world....and hair that touches my shoulders. These things jubilate me.

Noisyness......six girls in the kitchen.....talking about our dog who is in surgery......and the children.......and being the only person on freenight.......and freeday.......bordertowns.....lack of Susan.....lack of everyone.....delayed school shipments.......missing scarf and two shirts.....nice ones.....being dumb.......and tiny bathrooms. Really intensely tiny bathrooms, that I must clean almost daily. These things do not jubilate me. Call me crazy but they're just not really doing it for me. I'm not feeling it. It's like, why can't things be the way they were when we were just married? After all these years, I just really feel we've lost it. I don't know, maybe I'm frigid. You think we should get counseling?

OK TONE IT DOWN EASY GIRL WOAAAAH, WOOOOAH NELLY WOAH. I'm sorry, the darker recesses of my mind just punched through with that last half of the paragraph there. Must be the sugar intake....got to cut back on sugar intake....*breathing deeply* Why couldn't I just crochet for a living? WHY?!?!??!

I'll tell you why. I will tell you why I"LL TELL YOU WHY!!

I mean I would, if I knew. I would totally tell you if I knew, but I tootallly don't. Know, that is.

By the time I finish graduating, I'll have learned to crochet, as well as Japanese quilting, natal astrology, and a myriad of academic subjects. It's going to be intense. I love you all. Pray for our dog--she ran away and got hit by a car on our dusty Mexican highway, and she broke her leg. We need her to breed puppies. Somehow that's Offensive-related according to my mom. Don't talk to me I just scrub here. In any case, pray for our dog--she ran away and got hit by a car on our dusty Mexican highway..............

.................the snozzberries taste like snozzberries!!

A Collection of Failed Adventures

2008-09-05T18:01:00.000-07:00

Failed Adventures, Part 1: The Long Walk
There is nothing quite as failed as a long walk. --Ernest Hemingway imitation

The Scene: The dusty, less-then-middle-class streets of Ensenada

Dust poured on the nonexistent sidewalks as trashy Mexican vehicles zoomed down the well-worn highway. We had one goal in mind: The town. We valiantly struggled down the road, erupting into bursts of running and then walking, and then all over again; taking deliberate, agonizing steps in the blazing summer sun, immersed in sweat and ill-humored-ness.
Finally we reached the town, our resistance low and our feet aching in our shoes. But the town, in all its bordertown touristic glory, was only a goal leading to an objective. We remembered our Offensive letters, you see. Short-term goals, long-term objectives. Susan was that objective.
I don't have time or space on the Internet to really get into exactly who Susan is or her extreme importance in my life. But she was the vision that egged us on, through the crowded streets and sidewalks of town, filled with questionable characters and painfully uncultured tourists. We finally arrived at the turn, only to find it half-closed by a formidable-looking garage-like door.
I seem to be using an inordinate amount of hyphens in this post.
To return to this epic tale of yore, the door did not so much as shake our faith. Susan would be there, behind the door and up those stairs. And we were going to get there.

Failed Adventures, Part 2: The Climax

A door is nothing but an entry way to the outside. Or the inside, or from the inside to another place inside, or outside to outside. --Chinese proverb imitation

Under the garage door we crawled, every muscle in our bodies aching from exertion. We raced down the hallway and up the staircase, and through the door.
But we were too late.
The room was empty. The shop was deserted, Susan was nowhere to be seen. Mexican workers informed us that she might be there at 10 PM or the next morning. Our struggle was all in vain.
Demoralized, degraded, defeated, we limped down the stairs. We limped across the hallway, under the door, and down the street. Shoe stores beckoned invitingly from the streets, and we limped on. In pain and suffering. Feel sorry for us.
We went inside a Starbucks, our heads hung low in shame. I stood in line for some water, because a failed adventure is never quite as complete when you have money to buy tasty things. Christy my failing co-adventurer, went to the bathroom. When she came out we would go.
Of course, the line did not move. I stood there in agony, hot and miserable, while the small, rude, and mustache-ridden people in front of me hemmed and hawed about which tiny and ridiculously expensive Starbucks pastry they wanted.
Christy came back out, and we walked out of the shop with no water, energy, or motivation to go home. But, limping on sore feet crammed into other people's very small shoes, our blisters growing in size and severity, we started the long walk home.

Failed Adventures, Part Three: The Long Walk Home

There is nothing quite as failed as a long walk home. --Yet another Ernest Hemingway imitation

And SO we set off down the dusty Mexican highway--purpose failed, and in an inordinate amount of pain and suffering.
Moral of the story: SUSAN IS A VERY NOT NICE PERSON. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. But she is.

For the Storks

2008-08-24T22:38:00.000-07:00

This post is dedicated to all my faithful readers who are still frequenting this blog, hoping for a new post. Your faith has been rewarded. Hopefully there's at least a few of you out there.
I haven't been posting because as Christy would say, well frankly there aren't any communal puters, and this poses no problem to the rest of the Home because well frankly I am the only person who has neither a laptop nor a spouse with a laptop. If you do not have your own laptop you are e-screwed. Royally. Same thing with showers actually.....our storage dump I mean girls room is the only room that is showerless. Hence we mooch off the more fortunate Home dwellers and beg their indulgence.
Anyways, guess what I"M going to post about? You guessed it--Freeday!!! oh boy oh boy I'm so original. I'm sorry for the continuity but it's the only thing worth talking about, unless you like hearing about my newfound techniques for scrubbing stains off badly painted cupboards without damaging the paint, and if I wanted to write about that I'd more then likely sell my work to Better Homes and Gardens magazine. But I digress.
In a nutshell we united with Lisa, Mikey, Kevin, and the maternal Montgomery and the Chinese siblings and a blonde pubescent for a beach day of yore. I engaged in activities such as walking on the beach, walking on the road, watching everyone else yell for no apparent reason, drinking Monsters and discussing the woes of the general populous with two Smiths. I then went to bed, and got out of bed because no one else was really in bed, then got sent to bed by an unhappy teen care worker, then got back out of bed while two Smiths made disgusting microwave Ramen in the dark and ate it, and then horror of horrors we went into the boys room, where Christy rolled on a boy named Douglas and Kevin and I shared stories about encounters with the mentally unwell, India and Nepal, and creepy JETTs at Wordstock. This went on until about 4:30 in the morning, when we promptly went to sleep. And then we drove Home and I was ill, and when I say ill I mean very ill. Then we watched Memoirs of a Geisha and I determined the book was far better then the movie, and then we watched the first half of Alice in Wonderland. And then I cleaned the room, and then I walked up two flights of stairs and got on a computer, and wrote this post to you. Yay for Daddy yay.

I used the word then nine times in that paragraph. I counted it just for you so feel SPECIAL.

Oh and Dan is gone. He will be sorely missed. We weep for you Petronius.....one tear for you....one for me.....

Hope your happy all you randomites.....remember God made you special and He loves you very much. BONZAI!!!!!!

I have to--put out fresh doilies!!

August and Everything After

2008-08-07T20:08:00.000-07:00

I love Travis. *Sigh*.

These post titles totally rock. Instead of complaining about my long bleh days, I shall return to the spastic ecstatic part of the little child inside me and say jubilant things.
Hum. Hum badum dum falalala streety tweet fanny packersnittch!!!!

YAAAAY.

Hm. Not working. I'm going to go make a smoothie. A really yummy one.

"Let's play a game. Tell me what to order."

"Ok. A cookie!"

"No, but, you have to be more specific."

"...........! A really big cookie."

Good times, good times. Right! I remember now that it's August. And everything after shall be grand, because the future is as bright as the promises of God, and that's hardcore. A really big hardcore.

I'm not making sense GOODBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Lucky shmucky cluck duck. What'd that make you think of? Let it resonate through your senses and fill your soul!!
Or not.
PETER PIPER PICKED A PECK OF PICKLED PURPLE DIKES!!!
I mean peppers
I'm in a foul-mouth-ed mood. TYJ TYJ.

Aaaahaha get the mental image of Peter picking pickled purple dikes. Oh that's rich. aahaha that is grand......JUST grand.

feed your s

think about that.

Things I forgot to say in the last post

2008-08-04T00:28:00.000-07:00

--At the sister Home, I exchanged wonderful jokes with Keith the Nonuncley Uncle and Andy the Larger Paladino. And it was jubilant.
--The mattresses were 21 lbs each. It said so on the label. Just thought I'd throw that out there.
--I ate plums before I left the house. Just so you know I didn't walk a whole mile and a half on an empty stomach......not like you care but it's important that you know that--just take it by faith.
--I dedicate this post (meaning that post, right under this post) to Summer, because her long ramble was dedicated to me, and because I love her and her ways of wonder. I remain your loyal fan.

Saturday nights and Sunday mornings

2008-08-03T23:32:00.000-07:00

:D. Big grins.........another long week has passed, filled with sweet memories of scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, constructing, cooking, drinking, crashing, and long walks down between the dirty Mexican border town highway and the cliff that's on the ocean. Friday was the Open House, which is on the same level as the DARE program--a continual source of announcements and stress, that we are happy is over and done. I kept stats of my kitchen work that day to amuse myself in the chaotic lonesome din. I cut up 8 apples, four 2 ft long loaves of French bread and 3 stalks of celery, opened 22 cans, 7 jars and 1 container, arranged 3 platters and 5 bowls of food, and shredded 6 heads of lettuce into microscopic pieces, under the direction of my ever caring mother. I also carried 8 bags of lettuce up 2 stories and ran underground to the cellar 3 times. So we're happy that's over. TTL.
The next day was Saturday. Sweet Saturday, the happy Freeday Eve. You'd think the last day of the week would be gladly borne for the promise of freenight. I thought that too. I was wrong.
Basically I woke up ill from my exploits and eating too much shrimp the day before, and promptly slept until 10, when I was removed from my bed by sheer mighty willpower and the fact that a car full of people was waiting for me. Off to the races! where we, the Attack Team, drove for 1 hour to the Beach House, which should be more appropriately named The Construction Site of Death and Agony. But I digress. I carried hardware and miscellaneous objects to and fro, ran up and down stairs with messages, and was given the responsibility of hauling roll-out mattresses to their designated rooms. In my carnal reasoning I tried to carry two at once, and actually was doing just fine until I walked out of a doorway, tripped on stairs and splattered unceremoniously in front of an entirely random auntie on the phone with an entirely random uncle with matresses in tow, where I promptly burst into tears. I tend to do that these days. In any case, I successfully frightened her half to death, which caused her to hang up the phone, which caused the uncle to ask her why and her having to explain the whole story, and eventually it got around and now people tell that happy story to each other and laugh. At least it made somebody happy. I also skinned both my knees in the fall--brings me right back to my YC years.......such joy.........
Saturday night arrived. There were devious plans hung in the air to go clubbing for Leo Smith's birthday. I needed diversion from the odious past week and so the 6 of us headed off to our sister Home, where there was a celebration occuring, and from thence we would go and party like rockstars. Until of course I was told as the car started that me being a minor was an issue and that I could either stay at sister Home or go home. Funny how they would leave that out until the moment of glory.....and so I went home to an empty house except for the Dobb lady, who was sick. And we watched the Iron Giant and we laughed, and then we watched Constantine and she was deeply disturbed and I was jubilated. And then the clubbing team came home with stories of grandeur that didn't have me in them, and I wasn't very jubilated. They went to bed, and I wrote in my mysterious black book of secrets, about.......secret things. Indeed. THEN I went to bed, with plans to awake at 5:30 and walk down the road in the grey dawn and imagine that I wasn't coming back, and chuckle to myself.
My body had other plans. I awoke at 10:30, with the usual extremely sore back that comes from sleeping on floors. But it was still grey and kind of dawnish, so I woke the Dobb lady and we made grand arrangements to go kind of two-by-twoish, but not. So I took off walking down the road mentioned above, along the ocean, headed for the town, alone with Jesus and Tom. It jubilated me. After much walking and dodging of cars I made it to the big bad city--downtown Ensenada *reggaton theme music*. I went to my favorite cornerstore, where my favorite ugly cornerstorekeeper greeted me with much warmth and proceeded to tell his toothless friend that I was a good client. As is my custom, I purchased joy juice, then walked down the road to my favorite Oxxo, where I purchased Arizona Green Tea, which is the shiz. The utter shiz. But I digress.....again.....I then walked back up the road to Starbucks, where the Dobb lady and I shared coffee and a decadent Starbucks muffin, and had Word. Good feeding Word from a GN on comparing that was strangely convicting because it talked about being happy in your circumstances. LHM. Anyways then we walked to a variety of stores and shops, back to Oxxo, back to Starbucks, down Main Street, to Mcdonalds where I bought cheap but delicious softserve ice cream cones for us, even though Heidi hates softserve, and THEN we walked to a small sushi restaurant, where many strange events occured.
We sat at the sushi bar and spoke of various things, and a completely random hideous Mexican man sauntered up to me and asked to buy me a drink, and I laughed my head off right in his face and told him I was 15, and I believe that deeply disturbed him. My first time that ever happened...yay for Daddy yay!!! We stared longingly at the bar behind the sushi bar, at all the bottles, and I had the inspiration to ask the little man for two shotglasses so I could whip out my own brew and we could celebrate for no reason, but Dobb lady wouldn't have it. She's a good thinker she is. And we ate sushi, with shrimp tails, and it was delicious. And we haggled over money and Dobb lady made me tip, even though I hate tipping, but I'm glad because it was the right thing to do. And we walked all around town, and stepped into ugly shops and nice shops and piercing shops and Sherbert shops and liquor shops, and we considered walking to the theater but the fact that nobody at home knew where we were made it rather urgent to get home. So we walked the mile from town to Home, in the hot sweltering sun, lugging heavy glass bottles and sweaters and junk. Right before we turned off the highway on the road that goes to the house I died. I never did do well at getout, and 3 hours of nearly nonstop walking was a tad intense on my poor nerves. Thankfully Dobb lady dragged me home, and fed me mango shakes until I was well. God bless her and her trip to the Southeast tomorrow.
Well then it was the afternoon but that was filled with not-so-nice things, like people throwing up and intensities with roommates and an extremely depressing film about a heroine addict watched on Youtube with bad Internet, so I will stop here. Plus, if I got into the afternoon it would discredit my brilliant title. And everyone's probably bored and halfdead from too much unamusing input by now, if they've made it this far.
I love you all. May all the good people eat the food of their choice and drink good drinks that they enjoy and love everybody all together and be jubilant. Mine shall be sushi and Arizona green tea, and Bacardi with straight lemon juice, on ice, but may all the good people pick their own. Amen. And may I stop complaining, sometime, and speak good things about all things, especially these things, like hauling matresses. Amen Amen.

On a freeday in Ensenada long ago....

2008-07-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I had this really intensely wretchedly bad day. I mean worse things have happened to me on other days, but this day was just filled with consistent bad happenings, and it didn't rain. When it rains on bad days you can say, "and LOOK! IT"S RAINING!!" and laugh about it, but it didn't rain. PTL PTL.
So that horrible day was Freeday Eve, and by the time everyone went to bed and I wrote a long long letter of ventation, it was 5:30 AM, and I walked around and worked myself into a really hyper yet good mood to shake the gloom of yesterday. And I drank an Arizona Green Tea that I had to walk 2 miles to buy, and it made me happy. And I was so happy that I made chocolate chip pancakes and peppermint tea for myself and the Smiths, except only the little Smith woke up for them so we had a picnic on the carpeted floor of the storage room we call home, with berry jam on the good china.
Then we started having Word but I kind of died due to not having slept all night....and then awoke, much much later, to the squeals of Smiths and quiet nods of the Dobb lady, squealing about trips out. "Trips out?!?!" I inquired inquisitively.
Any I'm sick of speaking in narrative.........basically we went out, and wandered extensively around a plaza looking for the theater, and then finally found it, bought tickets and spent a long time in Walmart. And I bought sushi and ate it in meditative silence.
Picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skies......
I like this song. Anyways we watched Batman, and I was very shaken. I actually wept most of the time for random and nonrandom reasons. Heath Ledger's performance was genius but so sad and someone pushed my foot cause it was on their chair, and that made me laugh. I put it back five minutes later and they didn't notice....tee hee....
And THEN we went in the car, and all those around knew that it was so. For it was orange, with a green TOP. And then we came home, and I did dinner dishes. These dishes......upset me. PTL PTL.
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain where rocking-horse people eat marshmellow pie...
Now we are celebrating a Leo's birthday. I hate Leos. But HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIE!!! yaaaaay.....we made truffles, and played bad tennis, and I had to sing Las Maniatias all by my onesy. It rather bothered me. Anyway, Leo Smith is rather intoxicated and she's pushing her boobs together and singing along to my song.
LUCY IN THE SKYYYYYYY WITH DIAMONDS.......AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
this makes round 3 for this song....maybe I'll draw a picture! Or not....I should remove myself from that odd stage. I want gin. I had a bottle, and I was a girl in Mexico with a bottle of gin. And it jubilated me. Tee hee.
Picture yourself on a train in a station with platiscene porters with looking-glass ties
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstyle, the girl with kaleidescope eyes....

Sweeto I actually spelt kaleidescope right the first time...I'm so hardcore.
Well Leo Smith looks dead cause she put brown makeup all under her eyes when she had too many margaritas. Marky's serenading us with metal played on a nylon guitar. Must go.
DEAD DOGS.............feel the vibe

I can draw, I can draw.....

2008-07-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

This was just me being retarded and abstract while experimenting with contrasts and I'd though I'd share it with all of you even though there's nothing very special about it. ....the ironic part in all this is that I have Photoshop on this computer and I prefer Paint. It caters to my soul and its inherent program illiteracy. Enjoy....or not, I can see why you wouldn't....

DODGE TRUCKS recommends changing your transimission fluid, too.

2008-07-19T20:18:00.000-07:00

HUM. I was going to post the rest of my epic surgery experience but I totally lost inspiration so you all can make up the rest of the story and tell it to your children when you tuck them into bed at night or something or other. I've got to find a way to mail Heidi's present to her.....should be intense....and if anyone else got her the same thing, mark my words I will be most upset. And I know all about being upset. I just watched the most upsetting video I've ever seen, with Scarlett Johhanson or however you spell it, and some British man who thinks he's the hottest thing since sliced toast. And wherever I watch British movies the first few things I say are always in a British accent but I promise on my inner sunshine that it's entirely unintentional. It just so happens that I called my dear soul directly afterwards and ended up trying to make her believe I wasn't putting on a British accent. This always happens to me why does it always happen to me......HUM. End of thought.
Oh and I drew another picture a few days ago, this one inspired by the song I posted the other day. It's what I wish I was doing. Someday I'll advance to drawing faces but you'll have to do with shots from the back for now. 10 points to the first person to make any sense of it that I intended it to make.....

And if anyone sees a purple dress like that I want it for Christmas. Maybe I'll crotchet one.....big yarn purple dress that does sound wonderfully intense....and neon green slippers with big black bows!! Ooh I'm inspired......I need to get back into crotcheting again and finish that orange and green bag with the mushroom on it....except I left that at home. If any of you get a burden to finish it it's in the very top cupboard in the corner by my bed....my big wondeful bed oh I miss that....and my green plaid sheets.....oh what a bother. Dead Dogs and Cats.

And Happy 19th of July...wish someone would get on. My dad took a train today. I want to go on a train....I think that would be a good thought-provoking experience. Maybe when my stitches heal. They hurt immensely. And I can't eat and now that I can't I'm hungry all the time.....I swear my body doesn't like me one bit. It's dreadfully unkind to me and afflicts me with insomnia when I want to sleep and fatigue when I haven't got time to and hunger when I can't chew and I'm getting a tan. I depise tans. They make me look like an oversized Aztec. I intend on getting an umbrella the very next chance I get and using it whenever I'm out in the sun for more then 5 minutes. Oh for the old days when that was a normal thing to do because nobody wanted to look remotely like the Indians......actually I take that back because those were the same days that all the men under 35 were skinny and pasty white and anyone over that had crab red cheeks and was fat and balding. Maybe I should move to London where there isn't any sun and people won't look at me strangely when I accentidentally lapse into a British accent....that really is the bane of my existence. I have no respect for people who put on accents and what do you know I do it unconciously every time I see a movie with Hugh Grant......it's extremely taxing on my nerves I'm telling you what.
I'm rambling. I'm also grinning even though it hurts my stitches, because I don't care if I ramble all night and you were warned before you got on this site that Google doesn't endorse my content on here, so I can post long boring tirades of nonsense that won't be of any use to you, and you'll just have to deal with it.
One day, we're gonna get out........

Of Surgery.

2008-07-18T23:15:00.000-07:00

Well I have a large eventful story for all you happy storks today. Just try and picture it as it goes along, and hum the sound effects. It makes it less boring.
This morning, at the stroke of 6, I awoke to the sultry sound of my father's worried voice, exclaiming in consternation that if I didn't wake up this instant, we would be late. I dragged myself off the couch that serves as a bed in our quaint and dilapidated bus we call home, and went outside through very thick fog to the deserted house, where I proceeded to drink Chai and ate a plum. We have plums here.
Are you totally excited now? Hang on, it gets even BETTER!!! *Gladiator theme plays*
And so we went, with little conversation and much much fog, to the hospital. On entering we noted with some interest that the entire building was completely deserted. I thought we should take advantage of the opportunity to either start practicing ballet and opera simultaneously or rob the place, but Dad did not like either of these ideas so we set out to find the Ear, Nose and Throat department. We met an old lady who seemed very lost but we said nothing to her. Eventually we found the correct department, and after waiting in the waiting room and looking at boring magazines with no visible titles on the front, I was ushered into a room. WITH A CHAIR!!!! *Spaceballs theme with little Star Wars laser gun sound effects plays and fades out*
And it's 12:19, which means I have exactly one minute to get into the bus lest I be tarred, feathered, hung, and shot. We'll have a cliffhanger ending don't we all love those.....I say if the Matrix can do it, anybody can do it. Cause we're better then you, and we know it!!!

STAY TUNED!!! JEWISH!!!

Of useless information springing from a tired soul

2008-07-17T21:51:00.000-07:00

Well, today is the 17th, which marks my anniversary. I have been homeless, hapless, helpless, and headache-riddled for exactly 1 month. This is most likely due to my incessant complaining. Lord help me.
To mark this momentous occasion, I will do something really, totally, extremely out of the ordinary, and post lyrics. Good happy lyrics that express my gay soul. Ahahaha Lord I need liquor....and love....and more love.....and more liquor....specifically a Cup of Nothing...with tons of lemon so that nobody will like it but Mindy so nobody will ask for sips but her.......make it a bottle.....and this concludes my prayer. Amen. I didn't use any weapons cause it's the wrong thing to ask for right now. Sniff.
I was going to draw a picture but i don't have any time because "it's after ten and everyone knows that goblins come out after ten and possess any teenagers that aren't in bed, so you should go to sleep right this instant and be hyperly happy all day tomorrow so that i don't feel like i'm causing you grief"

.............keys of positiveness.............ptl ptl

Here is link Happy Song
There's another song after it but I don't put very much stock in that one at the moment. Enjoy.

Lovers, keep on the road you're on
Runners, until the race is run
Soldiers, you've got to soldier on
Sometimes even right is wrong

They are turning my head out
To see what I'm all about
Keeping my head down
To see what it feels like now

But I have no doubt
One day, we're gonna get out (Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay)

Tonight, maybe we're gonna run
Dreaming of the Osaka sun
Dreaming of when the morning comes

They are turning my head out
To see what I'm all about
Keeping my head down
To see what it feels like now

But I have no doubt
One day, the sun will come out.

...............aside from the Japanese part, I find it rather comforting.....will post later.....pray for surgery tomorrow......

A Day in this Week

2008-07-09T23:16:00.000-07:00

Whoopdeedoo! Well I've been doing intensive renovating of somewhere they call The Beach House with none other than my own father and of course Brother Nick, while we listen to the 10 good songs on his Ipod over, and over, and over again. These include such favorites as Honky Tonk Badonkadonk and It's Raining Men, which makes me want to start wildly gestulating with Mike and whoever else caught on in the middle of the dance floor, until I look around and remember that I have no Mike and no dance floor, just a big hollow space where we ripped the carpet out and put down masking. You see I am now a handy Handyman....girl....yeah! As of four days ago I know LOTS of interesting things about painting and ripping carpet and masking baseboards and cocking (allow me a cruel chuckle nyeahahahahaha) and of course the melodious sound of Dad and Nick's bickering on small yet crucial matters such as why Nick is using 2 5-gallon buckets of paint for 3 rooms. An example is shown below:

Nick: Dad, can you get more paint?
Dad: Well..........you want more paint?
Nick: Yeah more paint we're running out.
Dad: Um..........well............gosh um........we're running out? We can't be running out! We have 10 gallons and we have to make it last for 2 more rooms!
(Nick proceeds into a lengthy logical explanation using big words in the wrong context and bad grammar to point out why he used the exact amount of paint necessary and we need to buy more etc)
Dad: Well Nick, I don't know what to tell you. *walks away*
Nick: BUT WE NEED MORE PAINT!!

Well I'll stop there, as that conversation went on for far too long for me to type it all out. Living alone with no one but one's male relatives does some strange things to oneself. In any case, after a long and lengthy day of running up and down stairs with screws and paint and various oddities, painting doors with paint called Swiss Coffee, and cooking lunch and dinner for the menfolk, I take a long, long, shower, where I proceed to scrub the various paint and plasterfill from my weary self. Then I wander to the one finished room where Nick is staying and play his mandolin with loud volume and little skill, whilst he fills my head with random bits of knowledge about the second World War. Then it's off to my trailer, except now I have it all to myself so I get the bed and not the lumpy square couch, and this greatly pleases me. I write letters to myself and then pray most earnestly for all of you out there until I become very tired, which sadly doesn't take very long. Then I sleep, until 6:30 when I am awakened into a half-sleep mode, and thus the day begins.
But not tonight!! Tonight is special, because I have the computer for a blessed hour or two, and so I post. Yay for me. I need to go to bed as of this instant because I am tired....for the first time in a long time. I think I might be getting a tad bit of getout with manual labor (someone who knows Leyland tell him that ahaha). So I'm here for a week......or two......you never know these days.
Anyways must go...lest I die of overtiredness....I really should excercise.....one of these days....love you all!

Ahem

2008-07-09T22:23:00.000-07:00

So for freetime today, I listened to this song repetively, which inspired me to draw this picture

Don't they just flow in harmony? I think so. And I don't want any oh-you're-turning-emo comments. I like Paint, and I will paint whatever I want!! Yeaheyaheyaehaeyaehaeeyeah!

Stand up for tyranny!!

2008-07-05T11:09:00.000-07:00

To anyone who may ever come across this blog of wonder and adult content:

1. Go to my link list

2. Click on The Cow

3. Look at gorgeous and studly George Berger

4. Look at gay and just plain ugly Tom Felton

5. VOTE to stop the spread of tryanny!!

The Cow is confused. She thinks the 300 people are ugly. I'll say no more except that we staked our reputations on this arguement, and I can't let Tom Felton beat George Berger, it's just wrong.

If you ever watched Hair....if you have a good taste in men....if you want to help Heidi on the road to sanity.....stand up for my cause, PLEASE.

My mother thanks you
*Peter laugh*

Oh, and Happy Fourth of July Everybody!!!

2008-07-04T18:48:00.000-07:00