DUCT TAPE

Identity Bytes:

Name: Guess. Go on. I won't stop you.
Psuedonym: Dagger. Dag, if you like.
Contact: Dagerswift@aol If you can't figure out that a .com goes at the end of that, I probably don't want mail from you anyway. ^_~
I dig: taekwondo; creating/appreciating music, art, or literature; fedoras; the air after a snowfall; good conversation; Indian and middle eastern food; rice; brown paper packages tied up wi- oh, hell.
Sucks to: people who confuse debate with shouting the same opinion/phrase over and over, raw cauliflower, hateful rap/punk/etc., a compulsively fast-paced and unemotional society
Location: the Chicagoland area

the beast what ate me: the book

They give me cardboard box to live in: Pitas.com

Thursday, April 3, 2003
7:38 p.m.
listening to: the gentle whirr of copying machines
location: Kinko's

Well, kids, it's time for another exciting episode of Dagger Blogs from Work. Today's subject: being a gofer!

This, basically, is my job. I make copies, do food runs, compile blank charts, type, and occasionally work the computers. I don't complain; there's always enough variety to keep me from getting (too) bored, and the pay more than covers the gas it takes to drive around. Which, sadly, actually means a lot these days. Besides, I easily have some of the best coworkers in the world, 20+ year age difference notwithstanding. I just know that once I move away to college, I'm going to miss being able to work as an annonymous jack-of-all-trades. Ugh. Legitimate employment. The mere thought sends shivers of horror and revulsion down my spine.

Well, on the upside, at least a full schedule has kept my mind off the strep throat (a.k.a Monkey Virus) that had me groggy and/or unconscious all day yesterday. After much medication, I can now truthfully say that the world is full of all sorts of magical colors.

And on a side note, my green army jacket has a new addition to its many adornments. Namely, a handmade duct tape sticker bearing the slogan:

"FRENCH"
[insert cheap sharpie and white-out rendition of the French flag]
is not a four-letter word

Friday, March 21, 2003
12:30 p.m.
listening to: Bush - "Swallowed"
location: home computer

I've just gone through the long, arduous, and rather painful precess of setting up a livejournal. Why, you ask? Because I had this conversation enough.

random friend: Hey, you know, you really should have a livejournal.
me: Aw, but I really don't post enough-
random friend: But I could give you a code.
me: But-
random friend Just get the journal, mortal!
me: . . . eeeep.

Thursday, March 20, 2003
3:24 p.m.
listening to: the boys performing "It's A Scandal"
location: the house of the school theatre (row A seat 103)

Well, I woke up this morning at 5:00, trundled downstairs, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and finished my homework. The day has proceeded as usual, laden with its usual tests and homework, and I am once again blogging at practice on my beaten little Palm. The only concrete difference is talk: talk on the radio, on the television, between classes and among faculty. There is so much that is changed since I woke yesterday morning. But omit even ten percent of my day, and I would never have the slighest inkling.

Surrealism aside, it seems I'm surviving. Both performances went well, and I felt rather proud of my solo at the choir concert last night. One more concert each for band and choir.

I find out this Tuesday whether my top choice university has accepted me for a complete full ride scholarship. I may not last. =_=

[Edit: Uploaded Friday, March 21st, at 10:15 a.m. CST. Why? Because yesterday I was a lazy, lazy wench, and today I have no school.]

Monday, March 10, 2003
7:17 p.m.
listening to: Maroon Five - "Harder to Breathe" (on the radio)
location: the east-facing room of the office

See Dagger. See Dagger realize that she has not blogged in a blue moon. See Dagger squander precious work hours furtively tapping an entry into her Palm. Squander, Dagger, squander!

Not much to say, recently. Still running at full tilt. Recovering from supervising several prepubescent girls at my sister's slumber party. They were thoroughly raucous into the wee hours of Sunday morning.

Musical practice has become infuriating. Apparently, as a fifty-year-old pioneer woman, I must have a voice so low it is virtually male. And the big, for-profit concert is coming this weekend for band too, while next week is the spring choral concert. So if I'm not back for awhile, just assume that one of my directors has lost his/her patience with me entirely, choked me to death with my own music, and stuffed me in a closet somewhere.

Wednesday, February 26, 2003
10:26 p.m.
listening to: my parents conversing
location: home computer

This just in: a good friend's father just died of cancer. Nothing more to be said, really; I was close to the man as well as his son. I'll be more eloquent once I'm not so numb. But for now, just saying (typing) the fact is enough.
. . . I guess that'll teach me to make foreboding blog entires at school.

Wednesday, February 26, 2003
4:44 p.m.
listening to: a girl somewhere in the distance conversing
location: band hall

The girl down the hall is saying something about spells and luck. I think I just heard her ask a guy for a fingernail. o.o; Ah well. I should probably be doing homework, but I've been doing that all day. So instead, I blog for the first time in over a week. Whee! I'd make a pathetic excuses about being busy, but I've had time to blog. I've just been spending my time elsewhere (i.e. The Big Four: school, band, work, and musical). And on the college search.

Alright, now get this. The University of Houston is offering me a free ride scholarship, plus a $500 dollar stipend to buy books with. On top of this, any other scholarships they offer me will be directly delivered to me as a refund check. Theoretically, this means that I could come out of college withmore money than I went in with.

Needless to say, this fills me with a sense of giddy and childlike glee. If any of the excellent gentlefolk who read this (all four or five of you) have any information regarding the University of Houston (besides their webpage), please drop me a line. I'd be most grateful, seeing as I know very little of the place.

In other news? Today in AP Biology we held an all-day lab, so I got to spend a lot of time, in true scientific fashion, waiting for stuff to happen. We were experimenting with gel electrothingummy (scientific terms, always) and DNA transformation. We get to make green glowy e. coli! Of the non-toxic sort, but c'est la vie. Bio-engineered monkey virus can always come later.

And once again in the musical, I polka 'till I drop. Whew. I'm fairly certain that 50-year-old women don't swing around that much. But I'm not really one to complain when the choreographer says: "Okay, Eller, for the next 32 counts you're going to go downstage center and dance with every principal male character in the scene."

Life continues to polka, madly. I'm just wondering how long I can keep spinning like this before I start to grow dizzy.

Tuesday, February 18, 2003
4:05 p.m.
listening to: Mark and Eric reading/blocking the smokehouse scene
location: the house of the school theatre (row B seat 101)

This palm-blogging is horribly convenient. Now, I can recap between scenes and takes. Whee!

Recapping recent events:
Valentine's Day went well, despite the fact that my parents sprung theatre tickets on me(Godspell at a local high school, tres impressive). By the time the show let out, the snow was falling too hard for my bf to drive over.
Saturday was an all-day band competition, which meant plenty of time for homework, drawing, watching other bands, and suchlike. Symphonic (my band) played as the exhibition band, having been the overall winners last year. Afterwards, my boyfriend took me out to Baker's Square for a festive Lupercalia slice of pie. We ended up running into a couple of band buddies, and had an amusing discussion of Christianity (the three of them being Lutherans, and me and my boyfriend Catholics). And we also discussed how it just seems fundamentally wrong that the god of erotic love is commemerated as a roly-poly flying baby (I mean, just personally, I don't want my god of nookie to be a baby). Wandered home, wrote, and slept.

Sunday and Monday were spent at church, working at the office, doing homework and housework, and caring for a little sister with an ear infection.

And now we come to today: a lengthened practice, church choir tonight, and not too much homework. Maybe I'll start in on that DBQ.

. . . or just watch Mark and Eric be tense, surly cowboys at each other.

Satisfy your short attention span.

Did you know that Dagger now comes in tasty livejournal flavor? Pick some up today for the kids/significant other/thing living in the basement!

Read the archives! An eye-gouging good time for all!

A card-carrying member of:
Blue Tumbleweeds
Role-Play Network
Notus Bebhinn

Buddies with:
Kit
Amber
Gen
Kiri
Korax

Amused/Sustained by:
Comics
Return to Sender
Bite Me
Demonology 101
Strings of Fate
Scary Go Round
Mac Hall
Arcana
Sinfest
The Boondocks
Megatokyo
Penny Arcade

Resources
Google
Dictionary.com
Bartleby

Sundries
The Onion
Yerf
Elfwood