Colored Ink
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about me name: n/aaliases: kit, kits, kit kat, the smart girl, foxay, an chin age: 17 location: socal, usa hobbies: anime, manga, reading, writing, doodling, video games, french horn likes: all of the above, being lazy, mushrooms, cheese, animals, laughing loudly in public dislikes: nuts, stinging/biting insects, religious fanatics, violence, olives contact: coloredink@mailcity add .com wishlist playstation 2car summer job a good night's sleep money stress-free life trigun dvd box set realistic wishlist dayworld by philip josé farmerkabuki by david mack moxy fruvous live noise hellsing dvd box set long-term obsessions anime/mangayaoi/shounenai clamp music animals life and living video games current obsession(s) schoolcollege currently reading nothing newcurrently playing ffxdevil may cry currently watching hana yori dango (20)utena (23) gto tv (27) mirage of blaze (6) witch hunter robin (18) weiß kreuz gluhen (6) naruto (21) wolf's rain (7) i my me strawberry eggs (9) get backers (12) rose of versailles (4) |
Wednesday, March 19, 2003 [link] 05:33 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist My apologies to anyone who was looking for me last night. Rebecca came to spend the night with me because she's just spiffy like that, and we spent most of the night cooking, talking, and doing homework. Yes, my life is boring. A friend spends the night during the week and all we do is HOMEWORK. Thought about my father sporadically today. I know I shouldn't be worried. I guess no news is good news; if nobody calls, it probably means he's all right. But I can't help but notice every time "my father" or "dad" fall out of my mouth. How much of my life have I built up around him? How will I live when he's gone? Tuesday, March 18, 2003 [link] 03:24 p.m. listening to: various acapella renditions of "Loch Lomond" I would like to register my astonishment at people who think I'm "smart," "mature," or "strong." I am not smart. I am, in fact, one of the most stupid people I know. I have zero common sense, have nearly burned the house down on several occasions by virtue of forgetting that I was warming something on the stove, and know virtually nothing in the areas that I really should know something about, such as politics, current events, Real Life, and Living. The only thing I'm remotely good at, in fact, is test-taking, and in the great scheme of things that doesn't matter much. I have a decent-sized vocabulary. So what? The fact that I occasionally exhibit signs of higher intelligence does not mean that I am, in fact, Smart. I am not mature. I randomly meow like a cat, chirp like a small parakeet, and very often forget what "tact" means. I can be remarkably thoughtless. I like playing with grass. My foot has been in my mouth so many times that I should just learn how to cook shoe soles so that it goes down easier. Again, I have no common sense whatsoever. I have remarkably shallow interests. I have a big enough ego to think that I'm actually important. In fact, the only thing saving me is probably that I know my problems aren't that bad, so I haven't been reduced to having daily "pity parties" yet. I am not strong (mentally or physically, but for the sake of simplicity I'll stick to mentally, here). In fact, I'm quite spineless. I can hover for hours in the cereal aisle. I make up stupid excuses in an attempt to get out of things. I am incapable of making up my mind and have an unfortuntate tendency to let people make my decisions for me. I can't admit when I'm wrong. I have difficulty apologizing. I'm afraid of spiders, stinging things, static electricity, and death. I waffle. The only thing that might make me appear strong is nothing more than a childish sort of stubbornness and determination to see things through. Thank you, that is all. Tuesday, March 18, 2003 [link] 12:52 p.m. listening to: "Nightmare" - Ogata Megumi Just got back from shopping and brunch with my aunt. Yay, I have food! In fact, enough food to last me for days! And all for under thirty dollars! Oh, how I love Chinese supermarkets. I got home and found a really large, lumpy package on my doorstep from Mills College. Guess what? They accepted me! . . . and gave me a free CD wallet! I'd be more surprised and happy about this if they hadn't sent me so much goddamned mail. I mean, I would've been surprised if they'd rejected me. Not to mention I'm, uh, kind of not really planning to go there. Now I feel bad. Monday, March 17, 2003 [link] 11:12 p.m. listening to: "Landslide" - Fleetwood Mac Missing Star: a little girl gone missing. See if you recognize her or her father, and try to spread the word, if you can. Hopefully she'll be able to return home safely. Monday, March 17, 2003 [link] 08:14 p.m. listening to: "Fly" - Moxy Fruvous I don't know how many of my RL friends read this blog, but just so you know, I'll probably not be attending school tomorrow. I have a lot of things to get done, including but not limited to: Cleaning the house. It's a mess. Grocery shopping. I have no food. Cooking. Because, uh, I need to eat, and I'm always too tired/have no time to cook when I get home. Find my father's tax crap so that I can appease the mighty colleges. And other miscellaneous things, such as doing the laundry, changing the lightbulb that's gone out in the hallway, etc. Hopefully tomorrow will be enough to let me catch up on everything that needs doing. Now, if only I could find someone to drive me around. . . [Edit: My aunt has just informed me that some sort of incurable pneumonia is floating around in Asia. Goddammit, I want my father to come home now. I'm so fucking terrified it's unbelievable.] Monday, March 17, 2003 [link] 06:58 p.m. listening to: "Big Yellow Taxi" - Amy Grant So. As many of you doubtlessly know by now, America is going to be at war with Iraq in about 48 hours. This upsets me because I am, unfortunately, something of a pacifist. This upsets me because I was planning on visiting my relatives this summer, among which is the aunt who raised me for thirteen years, and now it looks like I may have to put my plans on hold. If I do not go this year, I don't know when I will be able to go, and my relatives are not exactly getting any younger. But this upsets me most of all because my father's in China right now. The U.S. is going to war and my dad's on the other fucking side of the world. Every time the phone rings, I hope it's him. Monday, March 17, 2003 [link] 2:16 p.m. listening to: babble of the media center So today, of course, everyone was talking about UCLA. Did you apply? Were you accepted? Are you gonna go? Up and down the halls, it was, "Yeah, UCLA rejected her and she's so bummed" or "I got accepted!!!" I'm mildly amused by it all. Ann stated very loudly at the beginning of class that UCLA did not accept her. Then she added, in the stunned silence (because Ann is, you know, The Most Qualified Candidate On Earth), that she never applied, and everyone had a good laugh. Responses to the news that yes, UCLA did indeed reject me, are reminding me of responses to the fact that, yes, I am not in NHS. "They're crazy! Why?"" How the hell should I know? Because I'm just like all the other 45,000 applicants? Because I'm not in NHS or CSF? Because I'm not committed enough? Because they didn't like my personal statement? Because I suck? They didn't like me, that's all there is to it. And quite frankly, I don't really care, because I never intended on going to UCLA in the first place. And on another note altogether, Grayling has been too fluffy and sweet lately, and I have this horrible feeling it's lulling us all into a false sense of security so that we'll be unprepared when the angst hits like a freight train. Sunday, March 16, 2003 [link] 12:55 p.m. listening to: "Superman Song" - Crash Test Dummies I woke up this morning and the sky was blue, the clouds were white and puffy, and the sun shone in glorious golden streams. Someone's taunting me, I know it. And I still smell like coffee. **screams** Saturday, March 15, 2003 [link] 10:03 p.m. listening to: "Landslide" - Fleetwood Mac I'm home now. The roof didn't cave in in my absence, so I guess that's a good sign. The fundraiser was a hit, as expected. I don't know what the parents were freaking out about; I was well aware that we'd have a full house, just like last year and the year before. The "talent" this night consisted mostly of song and dance, which disappointed me a little. I mean, don't people have any other talents, like juggling or fencing or something? But most of the numbers were very good, so I shan't complain. I spent the night working the "bar," making frappechinos as per instruction from Lisa, who's manager of a local Starbucks. So now, uh, I know how to make frappechinos. Yay. GOD I SMELL LIKE COFFEE. I threw my shirt away as soon as I got home. I don't think it's rescueable. Good application of begging got me an entire tray of Very Good Bread that we'd been serving at the spaghetti dinner. They didn't have any spaghetti left, but I shan't complain. I can live on this much bread for, like, the next three days, and I think on the way home from rehearsal tomorrow I can coerce Siean into taking me to KFC for meat (well, sorta-meat). S'all good. Eventually I'm going to have to cook. We have vegetables in the fridge that I don't want going bad. Saturday, March 15, 2003 [link] 11:20 a.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist This morning I woke up to the sound of rain. "Lovely!" I thought. I [HEART] rain. Sure, there's the slight problem of my having to go to a fundraiser later today without any transportation whatsoever except my feet, but I have an umbrella. I'll get by. The site isn't that far, anyway. So I get up, brush my teeth, do all the normal things that I do in the morning, including going to the office/computer room to turn on the computer. And naturally, as soon as I step foot in the room, I realize that the room is well on its way to being flooded. "Oh, fuck" does not quite summarize the situation here. I'd completely forgotten about the leaks. The past few times it's rained (rather lightly, I admit), the house did not leak. So I suppose I'd been lulled into a false sense of security. However, today's rain seems to be pretty heavy, and now the roof is leaking like crazy--worse than last time, in fact. I checked the leak in the hallway and it seems to be fine, but I put something under it just in case. After twenty minutes of mopping and wiping, I emerge victorious. The tile is nice and shiny and slightly damp, but oh well. It'll dry. I also had to stand on a chair and jab another hole in the ceiling, as the ceiling now seems determined to leak in more than one spot. Take this as a tip, folks: if you have, say, a crack in your ceiling that drips along a line, poke a hole at the beginning and end of the crack so that the water comes out in only two spots. Although in my case, I had to jab a third hole. >_< If you know me, this is no small feat; I'm scared shitless of heights. Why do these things always happen when my dad's not home to fix them? He's in China right now. >_< And I have to go to a fundraiser later today, too, leaving my house unwatched for six hours. With my luck, I'm going to come back and find that the roof's caved in. [Edit: And in other news, I have been rejected by UCLA. I should probably be more upset about this.] [Another edit: To make matters worse, someone stole our garbage can. I should have just stayed in bed today.] |
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