Feeling fresh and clean after a hot shower. I watched Scapin tonight; the play itself was a bit cheesy, but it was pretty funny and the acting was nice. If only life could be resolved in a happy omg-i-wanted-to-marry-you-all-this-time, wow-i-finally-found-you-after-all-these-years, i-forgive-you-now-let's-eat sort of way. Anyway, I'm happy that after all these years Clyde&I are finally getting closer, though once other people are here it's the total get-outta-my-face-kid routine that is so popular among older siblings. I've been meaning to put in a lot of my thoughts over these past few days in which I haven't been blogging, but this killer headache is putting a halt to my thoughts. The weird thing about today was there was this period of time when I felt like I was on a sugar high or something, though I hadn't consumed that much to begin with. Even mother dear questioned, "Did you accidentally switch the whiskey with the root beer?" Anyway, so now it feels like my skull is being jackhammered by little invisible people with mini metal mallets. Urghh.

Weekly Writings

1. Aha. Am I bothering you with the surplus of phone calls? I know you're not really a phone person, but it's nice chatting to someone about pointless things people with time on their hands disuss.

2. Honestly. I don't know what to do with you. Frankly, I don't really want to be associated with you, but due to overlapping friend circles (if you could even call mine a circle)we're forced together. You're smiles seem so tight, you're lips like a pair of rusted metal springs an overworked mechanic doesn't feel like changing. We should stop before the coils snap into tarnished splintered shavings because we know that that overworked mechanic won't sit down and grease them back to their shiny silver glory.

3. You're just as fake. Being with you is as awkward as being forced to dine with a bunch of people you don't know, stuffed into an uncomfortable rayon Queen Elizabeth costume while everyone else if dressed Rat Pack city-slick. Just stop. Anyone can see through those glossy lips.

After I post this, I'm going to heat up some chicken alfredo pasta, pour myself a tall glass of root beer, and boil myself in a vat of water.

Wow. Today was, dare I say, okay. Really. First time I've said that in ages. Woke up earlier than I wanted to so Car&I could enjoy a nice breakfast at Millie's with Ann, Phill, Trish, and Steph. Two downsides, though. In fear of being late, I scarfed down like half of my waffle, which turned out to be a big mistake because it was served with a lovely sidedish of cramps. The other downside was we had to walk back to school, and the rest of the bouncy balls of energy walked so freaking fast I had to trot to keep up, which is very annoying when your caramel machiatto keeps spilling. On the bright side, chapter 6 is actually pretty easy (for know) which is a nice break. I gave my waffles to this girl and other ungrateful bitch to share. I was so happy in PE just because I ran 34 pacers. 34!! New record!! Me and my silly little achievements. Must've been the caffeine. Lunch was typical, Interact meeting and T-shirt-receiving, though Mina had a little sniffle/allergy/whatever that was poorly-received by many. Interact is disorganized; honestly, if I hadn't paid I would quit on the spot. World history was funny. Whoever's group did Africa "accidentally" made the talking peanut look like it was flipping someone off. Mandy tried to fix it, but only succeeded into drawing more attention to the culprit we call our middle finger. This made me laugh uncontrollable--I don't know why. I got this weird panic-attack-frenzied-manic-thing while we were fixing our posters--minus kudos for me because, frankly, it's a creepy thing to witness. Anyway, currently listening to some soothing Frank Sinatra, with homework I'll probably not do slapped on the desk. I was watching Popworld (this British thing) and wow! The interviewers were (somewhat) assholes, but quite witty I guess. But it was funny watching still-blond and normal weight Hillary Duff get owned without knowing it, Britney Spears giving hesitant answers, Marilyn Manson returning, mastering their dry humor after threatening them last time, Jon Walker&Brendon Urie being complete assholes to Alexa Chung, and JoJo pretending a squealing guy in pink pjs is normal. Nice.

Daily Dedications:

1. Gosh. You're so un-understanding and biased it makes you seem like a bitch.

2. Why don't I get anything?

3. Slut.

4. I'm not that weird. Get to know me before judging.

4. Oi! Oi! Oi!

5. Was today and off day or what?

See! I only have 4 bad dedications! New best! Yay!

Today was one of those rare decent days, despite the recently discovered fact that someone sent a certain someone three angsty love notes in the sixth grade, using my name. It was kind of awkward when we discussed this today. I was absolutely livid. But, nevermind. Inner peace. Bliss. Omn. Close your eyes, cross your legs, chant; in left nostril, out right. Drink break. Continue.
It's weird, but you know how sometimes you see something remotely funny and you just break out into uncontrollable hysterics even though it wasn't even that funny? Well, I HATE IT when that happens. Hate. Sadly, it takes practically nothing to set me off. No kidding. It was like circa summer school, when Mrs. Morgan had this picture of male genitals. I don't remember why, but I started snickering. Then I remembered something funny that happened a long time ago, something about a hot dog and a penis, I forget, but I started laughing. And I was the only person doing so. Phillomina and Carmina were exchanging looks, and I bet Mrs. Morgan was thinking, "You're a freshman now! Be more mature!" But the thing is, I wasn't even laughing at the male testes anymore! The irony! Aha. See, I'm cracking up even as I type this. There's no hope for me. Laugh. On the bright side, it doesn't take much to cheer me up. On the other bright side, I can amuse myself easily, so no worries on me being bored.
French was coolish today, despite me stuttering Chicago's weathers and seasons in broken French, and the Scapin preview was funny so I'll probably go see it. English went by suprisingly quickly, if you could call it fast. And video production was actually okay today, even though I smashed my finger trying to retrieve my bag of Sunchips (a prop) from the stupid, vending machine. I did get it out in the end, and enjoyed its cheesy goodness with Wynnie in case anyone was wondering. (I doubt)

Daily Dedications:

1. Even though I know I of all people shouldn't be talking, but the past is the past. I know you think of me as a weirdo, whatever, but let's just forget this all.

2. I don't know, but my senses tell me that something unpleasent is going to happen at Millie's tommorow. If I go that is.

3. Why do I also feel like I'm after everything else?

4. Geez. Chill. Breathe. If you keep it like this, people are seriously going to think your homosexual. Or just waaay to clingy.

5. Do I really have to bleach my hair first? It's just one little chunk!

I gave myself a trim over the weekend. I think I mentioned it in my previous post. I forget. No one really noticed but Tricia. Is that good? Or bad? Heh. I don't know. Anyway, I wish I had a threadbare blazer. I would wear it over everything. With those lovely wingtip oxfords I'll probably never find. If I chop my hair off and stuff a pair of socks down my pants, then I'll practically be a man. Oi.

No school today, due to bad air quality and fear of the wildfire spreading. I would be thrilled if it weren't for that naggy feeling in the back of my head, the little voice that goes, "You shouldn't be basking in the sadness of all those homeless people and stressful insurance companies and tired firefighters." But, as the proverb goes someone's happiness depends on others misery. At least I think it's a proverb. Anyway, thanks to complusive eating, I have gained about 5 pounds and I don't think I'm going to lose all that weight anytime soon. I feel so sick. And my sister gaves me some of this shrimp alfredo pasta and its tasted exactly like nasty airplane food. I ate like one bite and pushed it away; I feel like puking, and the smell itself is making me naseous. Everything makes me naseous. Ugh. On the other news, I was feel a bit blue so I gave myself a trim. I really need to stop messing with my hair. So now I look like a little chink girl. All I need is some knee-socks and little plaid skirt. I think I have homework to finish, but I don't really feel like doing it so whatever. I wish I could be like those teenage protegees and leave school and be whisked off to stardom. Sadly, that isn't the case and I'm stuck at home, reading Survivor for fun, with bad grades my parents will explode over. Hahaha.

It's bizarre how ironic life can be. So we were at Pomona's Red Cross, dividing mini shampoos and toothpaste into neat little piles for Care Packages for fire victims when poof! Wildfires. One second we're crooning over paper cup handles and listening to Hot and Cold, and the next, we're outside watching a ring of smoke become bigger and bigger off the distance. I guess those Care Packages will be put to good use after all. Advice: When you're feeling jittery and you're leg can stop bouncing, take a swig of juice because that's the only nonalcholic drink you have at home. If you feel like you can't breathe take another swig. If you feel like your being smothered by all of this, take another. Repeat until the carton's empty. Then switch to chocolate. I bought a hunk of Belgian chocolate bigger than my head two days ago and it's already mostly gone. I've eaten so much I feel disgusted and bloated, just like the sky. The perfect portrait of Hades' dream bachelor pad. One more piece and I might actually puke. Compulsive-eating. The compulsion anorexics would hate to have. The compulsion that keeps bulimic treatment centers in business. I can't stand watching Fox 11 and having my family cluck over it all, oh what beautiful houses they were, how new. Oh, the fire is so big, oh Yorba Linda was such a lovely place, oh this is bad. Shut up. Fucking shut up. I know. I'm on the edge right now. Everything's ticking me off. I feel like one of those bungalows: I'm going to blow up any second. Everything but the music is too loud, jarring and sharp, each sound driving me crazier and crazier. Their voices: twangy, sympathetic, brassy: loud. The sound of the TV. The slamming doors. The chairs screeching along the floorboards. Shut up. Be quiet. Four words to describe fire: dangerous, alluring, compelling. How about the sky right now? The disgusting portrait of smothering gray blackness that used to be California's treasure of golden-blue. The clouds? The pearly white fluffs that used to look like carnations? They've decided now might be a good time to scatter. The only things keeping me sane: blogging and music and Listerine. Take a breath. Exhale. Feel the cool rush of spearmint through your nostrils. Be grateful. And open a new carton of juice and take a swig.

I wish my life was more organized. But, no, it's just a big, tangled mess that attacks me everytime I try to press it into the nice little agenda it's supposed to be. I have a geometry test tommorow and I think I'm going to fail it. I don't understand this chapter. Too much triangles and medians and crap. I know this is mean, but I'm hoping Ms. White's little bout of the flu/cold/whatever stays long enough for me to study for that stupid compare&contrast essay. Hopefully, she decides to stay home tommorow. Pray. Ughh...I'm so screwed for the math test tommorow. How on earth do you study for math?
Current music: Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa- a nice, light, breezy sort of beach song
Attention: Yuh. I don't really know...nice beat? My tables have turned?
Mad as Rabbits: I am going crazy. Loony. Batty. Fucked up.
Anyway, I just noticed the stupid/crazy things I imagine/think of/do to amuse myself. I'm such an idiot. Yuh. Hopefully no essay tommorow...and hopefully math is easy...

Jealousy is a sin. Acedia is for people with too much time on their hands. Anger is for shallow little cheeseballs who need to grow up. Overindulgence (known as gluttony to my Catholic friends) is like having an excess tub of I'm-such-a-fucking-bastard-but-I-don't-even-know-it strapped to your waist. Sad thing is that I'm guilty of doing all of those things. Oi.
Today was okay. Carmina had Halo-Halo, so I spent lunch being a nomad with Kyra, traveling from the art room to the vending machines to the library. Good exercise. Very healthy. I have a sudden urge to paint my cousin's Barbies in Day-Glo. But I think I'd get in trouble for turning Tea Party Barbie into a paint-covered nudist getting reading to take a spin in the World Naked Bike Ride. English went by fast for once. I did bad on the math benchmark, like I knew I would. Funny thing was that apparently this was "one of the easiest tests" according to the people in my class. I'm too busy doodling to pay attention in French. Must buckle down. I used my crisp new five today. I'm sad, but I asked Ms. Jacqout to hold it so I could exchange it back later. She gave me a funny look, but agreed to. We have to run the mile for PE tomorrow. I hear it's going to be hot. This may be my last blog. I spent half of fifth period looking for Tricia, Wynnie, and Jason. I must've looked like a total spaz. Johannsen was boring. Nothing happened because we spent most of the time finishing up our own little projects. That's the world today. Selfish. I like Lanny's Chinatown scarf. Next thing you know, cool little shops are going to open up there because of the cheap rent. I wish. Cross my fingers and hope. That's what happened to the Meatpackaging District, so you never know... It's funny how they can turn an old meathouse into a high-end fashion place but they can't afford to fix up a crappy little park so little kids won't have to risk their lives just to zip down a slide. Capitalism.
After I post this, I am going to curl up with my book and some cold rice because that's the only thing I have to eat. Homework can wait. School is dreadfully boring. I am such a nerd. Any good reads?

I am going to die.

Thanks to another bout of prolonged, I have to take that nasty Chinese medicine again. IT IS THE NASTIEST SHIT ANYONE HAS TASTED IN THEIR LIVES. It’s like brown and sludgy and frothy and frankly, it looks like a dog with diarrhea shitted in a cup. Even the smell—the mere thought of it—makes my stomach churn. The last few times I drank it I puked in my mouth (and sometimes out) and I had to eat like 34567 candies afterwards. Well, I’m all out of candy. I should finish up my will.

so bored...

Due to the fact that I am stuck at home with a fucked up computer and the dimpled ball of energy called my cousin, I've been looking up at a list of phobias and fuck, I have like 10+ phobias. And I'm only on D. I suck at life.

dADS
Fuck. I am so pissed. I had this blog that I wrote but thanks to the freaking Internet blogspot erased my entire post and replaced it with dADS. Joy. Anyway, right now, despite what the time says it is 8:41p.m. and by 9:00 I will probably already be attempting suicide for the umpteenth time. Just kidding. But seriously, it seems like everyone in the family is driving me insane. My sister hogs the computer and only lets me use it when JavaScript is fucked up or whatever, so I spend most of my time trying to fix it/being stuck with Wikipedia/taking lame quizzes on Quizzilla. And then now that I finally get to use it, my deranged mother is yelling at me about how I'm exceeding my time limit on the computer. Then, as I try to point out I've only been on for fifteen minutes she goes, "Oh. It's such a coincidence that you always use the computer when I come home." That woman needs to get her eyes checked, because about 60% of the time she gets home my sister is on the computer but does the deranged woman say anything? No. And anyway, when she got home she saw me sitting in front of the TV finishing Speak and then starting on Diary. And then I took a shower, which took long because I was playing around with costume makeup and got an excess amount of cold cream into my eyes. So now my eyes are swollen and red. Furthermore, nothing is really working at the moment so I can't even drone myself out with music. My mother is probably one of the few moms in the world that would yell at their kid for reading. Apparently, I've been reading to much and my sister too little. Parents just want an excuse to yell at someone after a bad day at work. My mom chooses to take it out on me. Anyways, these four days just really went by. I'm so sad. Nothing I love more than mooching around daydreaming. I hate coming back to reality. I just hope I don't end up like Misty from Diary with my way of thinking. I saw these really cool necklaces online. Maybe I'll buy one. But, because they're handcrafted they're charging a lot for slabs of baked plastic and sterling silver. I wonder if one of those people will take me in as an apprentice or something. I watched Paris Hilton: My New BFF and that show makes me laugh. Those people practically worship her and Paris always looks stoned or under the influence. Disgusting. I want a paisley scarf, but those are pretty expensives. I saw a pair of laced loafers that kind of looked like those oxfords I wanted and it was only $25, and I was so happy but then it turns out they sold it and the site only had one pair because it was "vintage". I hope that stupid cow who snagged those shoes are happy with it.

I have to say, baroque pop-turned-classical is catchy crap. Some songs sound kind of weird but others are just simply extraordinaire. Today was a weird day. I have the fingers of a coal mine worker right now: they're still dusty from the newspaper sorting despite heavy scrubbing and with bright red Hot Cheetos smudges. Is it just me or do you get annoyed whenever someone purposely raises their voice when they start talking about you and how you're like a man? I have a stupid ISN check tommorow, which'll drag my grade down even more because I lost everything in it. And I have a stupid math benchmark. School is so depressing. Anyway, if I ever become an interior designer (which I really doubt) I'm want to make these light up cubes people can sit on. Won't it be cool if you're just strolling along at night, and then you see these solar-powered cubes on someone's porch, lighting up this person's butt? I would love that. I just hope no one designed those yet. Fingers-crossed. Anyway, right now I really a pair of colorful pointy-toed derbys/oxfords/wingtips. I saw these somewhere on Youtube but I forgot which video it was in. I'm so sad. I hate my neck. It's so long and gangly. It looks like I have an adam's apple. Maybe I should start wearing scarves daily to hide it. We finished The Mission. It was so sad. Much more touching than Rachel's Challenge.

Daily Dedications:
1. Thanks for leaving me on AIM. Sleep well, cause you're going to be dead by third period tommorow.
2. Currently, you are doing so well of making feel so worthless and pathetic it's funny. Maybe I should present you with an award or something.
3. There's a wall nowadays. But, unlike the one in Berlin, I'm not sure if this wall will fall in the meantime.
4. We were getting to know each other so well...and now it's over. Already.
5. You're not the only one that feels like that. I know how you feel. More than you know it.
6. It's funny how I thought you used to hate me and now you're one of the closest people in my life.
7. You're one happy hippo.
8. Have a little faith in them. And when you lose faith, put it to good use on other people. Like me. Have some faith in my light up cube idea.
The string music is making me emotional, but I like it. So calming. So mellow. Maybe I'll put some Enya on later and inhale incense while beating on a drum. Well...never mind. I changed the music. This song reminds me of Lena Lingard. From My Antonia? It's funny when musicians change their style: sometimes it's plain annoying, sometimes it sounds better, and other times you just can't really decide which style you like better.

Today was surprisingly decent. Not amazing, but, still. Good enough. I should count my blessings. I hate extended block fifth period. But I loved the movie we're watching in World History. (Come to think of it, I loved every movie I've watched at school.) I love Jeremy Irons! His birthday is one day away from mine! Those were the days when he was still a hottie....Anyway, I was just fooling with Youtube, which is practically my new pastime and I stumbled onto these hilarious videos. One was this girl just freaking out on the new upcoming Twilight. Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFG9lXc2upQ The girl sounds like a monkey crawled up her ass. It is hilarious. Makes me feel sorry for all the Twilight fans out there. See why I'm not a fan of those books? Do I seriously want to turn into that? Hehe. Another thing was this video that has now been deleted but whatever. It features this "hot" musician who talks to the audience members at breaks. Some girl shouted, "Fuck me!" or something along the lines of that and guess what he said? He said, "Talk to me after the show... just kidding. I can't do that. How old are you anyway? Talk to me when you turn eighteen." Ahaha. That girl's probably off buying birth control and condoms right now. I wish I could learn how to put on costume makeup. It'd be so much fun. Anyway, I find it weird how everyone portrays me in such different lights. Which light do you portray me in? If ever learn the art of costume makeup, I'll make up my face in every light some kooky koala portrayed me in. That'll take forever. I'm going to wrap this blog up and I feel very touched of those who read my mindless drabbles. You guy[s] are some beautiful begonias. :]

1. Happy birthday. Best wishes to you. May I suggest listening to some Vampire Weekend or a movie night with some friends? Wait until you turn sixteen before cracking open the vodka. Be a good kid. Unlike some I know *cough, cough Carmina:]
2. Something tells me there's a boy on your mind.
3. I've been spazzing like crazy. I know. No need for that look.
4. Don't you trust me anymore?
5. Am I that ditzy?
6. Sorry. But you're pissing me off. It's embarrassing to be around you.
7. Geez. Stick a fucking knife down my throat while you're at it.
8. You're one super sardine.

I FORGOT ABOUT THE ELECTIONS!

Ohmyfuckinggawd! I forgot about the freaking presidential elections! Well, Obama won. Can't say I'm surprised. It seemed like every college student I know was voting for him. And just like the whole going-green, fro yo-and-smoothie thing, it kinda became a trend for our generation to support him. I mean, practically every band we knew wore Support-Obama tees and, even in the 2008 VMAs, the host made it blatantly obvious he was an Obama supporter. But, it makes me wonder if McCain hadn't ran with frickin Sarah Palin, would he have had a better shot? I mean, Ms. Alaska-beauty-queen-becomes-Ms-VP-of-America? Yeah, she was a former beauty queen; she'll be able to lead America out of the recession with her dazzling smile and sparkling tiara. (Let the sarcasm drip)Anyway, I'm happy that Obama won, I guess, though Ron Paul will forever be in my heart (Ron Paul forever, Mina!) I just hope Obama can walk-the-walk as much as he can talk-the-talk. Keep your fingers crossed. Wow. Three blogs in one day. New record.

Random Rant #1

Well, I'm not really a big fan of spending money on CDs when you can listen to music for free online, but oi! I reaaally want to get these CDs. Two of them I think I can find online and force someone to download it for me, but there's like two where I'm 98% sure I won't find on Limewire. I'm so sad. And the string music isn't helping.

Anyway, don't you just hate it when you're trying to listen to some music on Youtube and then the person just has to put these freaking promiscuous/weird/camera whore pictures on it? I mean, yes, I know you think that insert-flamboyant-male's-name is godly or gorgeous or whatever, but honestly, what am I supposed to do when my mom or grandparents walk over and see these four guys draped over each other in a heap of frilly clothes and makeup? Okay. Random rant over.

(BTW, my little cousin is so cute. My mom and I were talking about teeth, when I suddenly said, "My eyes feel so puffy today." [in Chinese]. And then my baby cousin pulled open my mom's eyelids and shouted, "Little eyes" in broken English. It was soooo funny. I don't even know why. My mom's eyes aren't even that small.)

Current music:
Sugar We're Going Down String Edition: I really like this piece. The strings make it seems like those songs that plays in movies once the girl steps out of the train station and looks around, thinking about the relationship she left behind.

Mr. Brightside: Reminds me why I used to like this song. I wonder how covers for Cobra Starship would sound. Ha.

The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage string edition. Better than the original. Well, in my opinion. Ha, I bet those Hollister-bag-toting sixth graders don't listen to the classical outtakes. (1. They probably don't even know classical editions exist. 2. I bet the violinists/violists/bassists/cellists aren't "gorgeous" enough for them. I've been in orchestra. Trust me, you'll have better luck finding better guys on the streets) Take that you little skank whores. :] It's weird but I'm like in love with practically ever patd strings-edition song. eesh. time to put my head in a bag of dead fish.
....And a bunch of other string editions of music.....just listen. Give it a try.

Lalallalla

At home, watching 2008 VMA videos, listening to music, with a piece of loose leaf paper waiting to be covered in medians and altitudes. I feel like someone from those old black-and-white movies (ignore the 20th century television set), with my glasses on, sipping cider from a faux wine glass. The only things missing are a pack of cigarettes and a clunky record player playing crackly angsty music (does panic at the disco and Christina Aguilera count?) Ahaha. Anyway, today was a completely shit day--nothing went right whatsoever. The morning before school was terrible, I was snubbed, completely ignored, and was overall deflated. English was horrible and dragged on forever as usual. French was verrrrry long. Though not too bad. Thank god Mrs. Jacqout didn't hear my profanities. Lunch was...unbearable. Stupid picture. And fifth period? Let's skip the subject entirely. I had to run the entire length of the soccer field, volleyball court, and gym, looking for someone who turned out to be about 5 steps away from me. And I forgot my cell phone and left it at school but thankfully some nice kid called me and told me he'd turn it into the office. I wish I asked him for his name. On the bright side, when I started this blog I was planning to turn this into one of those sad thingies people label as "emo". But now I feel positively giddy. I may be going insane.

Things that'll soon cause a migraine:
1. Okay. I really wanted a part in the video. A small one. But if you force me into a one second cameo which I portray a middle aged woman (um, people tell me i look like a sevie. how can i be old enough to spawn Tricia?) then forget it. I hate being stuck behind camera. Which I won't even be able to do, because they won't trust my handling. I never thought I would ever hate not doing anything.
2. Me self-pitying myself. I hate me at the moment. Someone please slap me.
3. Lack of sympathy from people. Please refer back to #2
4. School. End of story.
5. Changes. Too many changes. I hate changes. Changes take time to get used to. Bleck.
6. The way I really like panic at the disco at the moment. They always seemed a bit...flamboyant for my taste but I really like their music. Like I really liked them when they first came out but after [insert names here] started listening to them I stopped. And now I restarted. It's so upbeat even though those lyrics are meant for Edgar Allen Poe or something. Oh lord. I'm falling into the Hollister-obsessed, gum-popping sixth graders category. But I have to say, a lot of their songs are circa 40's/50's swingy, folky/angsty music. On the bright side, a lot of the best songs (minus That Green Gentleman) aren't that well known. Yay! I think I'm seriously going to buy the album. Oh no. I have it bad.
7. My lack of a close circle of close people who are close to me.
8. Me being as interesting as a piece of Wonderbread. The only thing I have going for me is my name.
9. People never bothering to listen to me. And when they finally do, they don't know what the flipping fuck I'm blabbering about.
10. My stupid, stupid dreams. They're stupid.

Daily Dedications:
1. I don't think you really like me anymore. Or you find me weird. Or just plain annoying. Or both.
2. You have too many friends. You're too popular. That's not good for a small town girl like me.
3. You seemed bored with my lackluster. I don't blame you. At least you listen.
4. You're pissing me off. I don't think you know it. You never know it. Wow. You really are there for me. You wouldn't even be there for me if I shattered my ankle and needed someone to lean on.
5. Are you honestly nice? Cause you seem like a fucking bitch to me. Hahaha.
6. You're one of the few people I can actually tolerate nowadays.

Currently sitting at home, with a pile of homework spilled in front of me waiting to be BSed in blue ink. I went to the movies yesterday night and I have to say, Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist was somewhat of a disappointment. It was cute, I guess, and the music was stellar but it wasn't the Juno-in-New York follow-up people have been raving about. I don't know. I guess I just had too high expectations. But I must admit, the guy that played Dev was pretty decent. What is with me and gay guys? Anyway, I did the two-for-one-special and watched Eagle Eye (Rosario Dawson was amazing but Billy Bob Thorton?! What were those people sniffing?! He suited the role I guess but honestly), which apparently received bad reviews, but, due to my extremely low expectations for it I actually liked it. What is wrong with me? Probably didn't hurt that Cameron Boyce was in it (Carmina, that was the little boy whose scarf I really liked). I had two coffees yesterday (you're right, Mina, It's A Grind is divine) so I went to sleep at about three a.m. and I woke up at nine-thirty and watched some Nickelodeon. What happened to Spongebob? I think the creators are running out of ideas. Sigh. I miss Nick's old shows. :[

Weekly Writings:
1. You know, I feel like you're the only person I can really actually talk to these days. Though we have such lighthearted conversations.
2. Wow. 20 hours of straight texting. You guys have such a big, tangled, mess on your hands. x]. btw, did you delete that terrible picture yet? I know I look horrifyingly hideous, but I think that's one of his best pictures (he probably camera whores himself all the time).
3. I'm mad at you. You never listen to me. Hmph.
4. Ugh. Sometimes I think flesh and blood is the only thing we have in common. And stop talking to your bf's bf at freaking 2 am！ It seems really suspicious you know.
5. You should stop being such a whiny pussy and yank that fucking pole up your ass out.
6. You're ticking me off. I know I may not be dsjfhjk like those other people but honestly, you're treating me like I'm not fucking good enough for you.
7. What? She's like your best friend. If you seriously leave her for them after she stuck with you, I'm going to knock your freaking block off.
8. Well, you've really done it. You really know how to make me feel adsjsdfh.

Done venting. Have more but I can't remember. Now it's time for me to write about a cannibal pineapple and orange. What is with the French and pineapples that look like crackwhores?