[most recent entries]

+Am I a man, Grandpa?+
=Saturday, October 13, 2001=
People think I'm like a guy because I think sexually quite often. I think all girls think sexually, but they don't display it, whereas guys tend to, more or less. Men outwardly show their pervertedness, it seems. (sometimes not by choice; it's just human nature) So, when people say I don't act like a girl, they're referring to this sexual matter, maybe? (I'm really not much of a tomboy, but sometimes I act/dress like it) Girls who display sexual feelings as freely as men are considered whores by most. Am I a whore, then? And then, are whores not thought of as real girls either, because it is assumed that real girls don't speak of such naughty things? I know the answers to both those questions, but it's interesting to think about. Hey, let me know if you think I'm a whore. I want to know.

+Nasty me+
=Saturday, October 13, 2001=
Ever had one of those sex dreams? Uhn, that's what I get for being bored and owning a body pillow. Now I must shower. (Not to wash off residue or anything; simply because I happen to be dirty!)

+Eyedrops+
=Saturday, October 13, 2001=
The show at the Chemical Free Zone last night was real neat. Rohner + A Burning Water + Fighting Jacks were good. Also, Forammen was okay, too, but it felt like they were rehearsing. Their vocalist took off his clothes bit by bit, and I was like, "No! I don't want to see this!" So, all in all it was just peachy, yup. A good amount of interesting people showed up, too. This guy who I know, mutually, said he knew a 12 year old who played an instrument in a band, and he asked if that was I. My reply was, "I'm not twelve." I hope he didn't find me bitchy or anything.

+Yogurt+
=Saturday, October 13, 2001=
Eww, I feel like yogurt! This past week or so I've felt horrificly nasty. Emotion Sickness. I still feel that way. It causes me to be tired all the time, cop out, and get all meek and weak-like. It's seriously disturbing that it makes me so upset. And I think I'm starting my period. Ahh, shit, Prepare for PMS.

+Tickle My Ear+
=Thursday, October 11, 2001=
Ten Thirty Five, once again listening to that same Cd...Brandon is really tickling my ear. I actually laughed out loud because of it. That's what headphones do to me; tickle my ear.

+I look like a Beatle+
=Thursday, October 11, 2001=
I got my hair cut short, about an inch longer than my ears. Plus, it's curled under. My dad says it's cute, but I think I look like one of the Beatles, minus the bowl-y bangs (I mean, I have bangs, but mine are just straight across) Hh anyway, I look like one of the Beatles at the age of say, 7. Seriously. This makes me look so young! I bet people will expect me to be missing my two front teeth. Also, I look like a boy. Eh-heh. But I don't *wanna* look manly!! Hmm, we'll see what the others think of it tomorrow...

+Sing Me To Sleep+
=Wednesday, October 10, 2001=
I'm gonna listen to music...really, REALLY, loud on headphones in the dark. That's just about the funnest thing; I swear it. You can see things in my cottage-cheese ceiling when you listen to music. It's surreal...plus it puts me to sleep. But I have specific songs that I like most for this...so I have to keep changing cds. Hehe. Looks like I'm gonna have to burn myself a "Psychadelic Ceiling Sleep Mix." This should be fun. *rubs hands*

+Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging; By Louise Rennison+
=Wednesday, October 10, 2001=
That's the name of this book Bonnie read last year. So i went and read it,too. It's a diary of this girl in Britian, and it's a hoot, as my grandma would say. Here's some quotes:

"Looking through my bedroom window to see if we could see into next door's bedroom window because I wanted to know what Mr. Next Door wore to bed. Jas thought jimjams but I thought shortie nightshirt.
Then as we were looking we saw Mark (Bonfire Boy) coming up the street with a girl. [...] We couldn't stop watching, and to get a better view we got up on the window ledge."

Okay, that's not the best segment, but it reminds me of my friends. =D

Okay, here's another one:
"We just heard her say, "Yes girls, I know how that person felt because when I was younger I had a BO problem myself and people used to avoid me. I never used to wash because I was an orphan and depressed..." We just sat there staring at our desks while she went on and on about her body odor...it was AWFUL. I have never been so glad to go to PE.
We all ran screaming into the showers and washed ourselves like loonies. Miss Stamp was amazed- she usually has to prod us and shout at us to get us to change at all in the winter. She came and looked at us in the shower with amazement. Then we remembered she is a lesbian. So we ran screaming out of the shower."
Okay, okay, one more:

"I found the tweezers eventually. Why Mum would think I wouldn't find them in Dad's tie drawer I really don't know. I did find something very strange in the tie drawer as well as tweezers. It was a sort of apron thing in a special box. I hope against hope that my dad is not a transvestite."

It's like a blog. Har har. Only you don't have to wait for the person to update; it's already there, every moment of it.

+I don't Wanna Talk to You Anymore+
=Wednesday, October 10, 2001=
..I'm Afraid of what I might say...*ahem* Sorry, Incubus has managed to stick in my head for the past, say, 3 weeks. Har. Well, unfortunately, my overly articulate entry from yesterday never made it up here [angry face] so you missed out on a whole day of my life. Oh no. Like you care. But anyways, yesterday was normal jabber, except I got 100% on my Algebra paper; go me. That just made my day, because my parents were totally suprised, and I felt like I was saying, "HA! I showed you!...SUCKERS!" Besides, it isn't often I get 100% on, well, anything. So, in light of my accomplishment, my parents rewarded me by allowing me to go to Maggie's after school. (Yup, they still got a tight leash on me!) This better let up for Friday; that's a minimum day, duuuuude. Hyuck. Yes, well, I think you should know something. Maggie and I share. Everything. We both like the same guy. Oopsies. Heh. No big deal to me; it isn't really a competetion. I'd call is smooth sailing. We actually share our dumb little thoughts about him with eachother. Nasty, you say? Naw, man, naw.

+Miss Bliss+
=Tuesday, October 9, 2001=
I am muy proud of myself right now. After all the "Laura you get crappy grades. Improve, dammit!" I have overpowered them with an 100% on my Algebra II Project. That just made my day. You know what else was fantabulous today? This guy, lets call him, umm, Lethy (har har, inside joke) talked really nicely to me, and a friend, after school. Stuff like that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. The only downside about hanging around after school is that Maggie and I were rabidly attacked by Able. Not only did he sexually harrass us by touching sacred areas, but he also stole my notebook and was being a dickhole about everything. Some people think it's flirting. When it's Able, it definately not flirting. It's more like self defense, really.

Another classic "Laura you idiot" moment happened, too. Sitting at home with all the windows and doors open, I was on the phone explaining this guy named Brian's actions. I was talking quite loudly, and I said, "Dildo movement, Pelvic movement" when the doorbell rang. My 9-year old neighbor and his mother were standing outside the door with incredulous looks on their faces. I turned down their babysitting offer, but you could tell they were glad about it. Heh, they must think I'm really weird. Their kitchen window faces my bedroom window, so you can see practically everything. My room's a mess, and I have strange photos and posters all over the place at the moment. It wouldn't be so bad, except I know the father is a deprived middle-aged pervert, so I have to dress awkwardly while lying on my bed out of sight. Well, I guess that's how it goes with perverts. Yes, girls want to be thought of as sexy, but usually it's only to guys of their age group. I don't know any men over 31 I think are hot. Besides, those are celebrities; they don't actually count.

+On The Bright Side+
=Monday, October 8, 2001=
Well, maybe my parents are right. I mean, they do have good reason (well, some) to punish me for not doing my work. I honestly trust in them a lot, because I like them as friends, and I go to them for advice. My mom and I even do the whole "boy analyzation" thing if it gets down to it. She doesn't want me to date until I'm 16, and frankly I don't want to anyway. Unless, you know, Mr. Right comes along. I tell her the embarrassing things that happen to me, and she gets a kick out of it, but she has no one to spread rumors to, so we just kind of sit there and laugh at me. Har har. I love my mom and dad. They make good decisions, I swear it. Just not when going to a show is in jeapordy. (I know, I know, spelling error)

+Wrath of Parents+
=Monday, October 8, 2001=
You know, I've always considered my parents to be pretty good. They let me do most things within reason, and they understand the "changing times" and whatnot. But I don't understand their methods of punishment. Okay, so I was up until 2 last night doing a considerable amount of homework I hadn't started until 8. The honest truth was that I though our test and notebook weren't due until next next time. They acted mostly okay about it last night; doing the whole parental support thing by waving me of my chores and bringing me coffee to stay awake. But today after school, I had wanted to stay around and talk to some interesting folks, but my Dad had already arrived. So I asked could I go to Maggie's house to study, and my father sternly scolded me for thinking I could. And I was all excited because I had pulled a Maggie doing all my homework late, doing moderate (I thought) on a test, and even spending lunch time, as well as 10 cents, in the library to type up the remaining piece of my Antigone essay. I was on Cloud 9, knowing that I had done some quality work, but here my dad just comes and bursts my bubble. At home, he told me that he and mom had decided not to let me go out for fun in any sorts this week, because I needed to get stuff under control, according to them. My mom apparantly said that I couldn't go anywhere at least until they found my World History Test Grade, which had to be an A I guess to please them. Well, I got B- and guess who's in the dog house? Ugh, I have doubts about going to the Chem Free on Friday. My parents think by cooping me up my grades are going to raise? And hey, I'm proud of my B-! But no, my mother says, "Laura, you're an A student. You need to act like one." Oh yes, I am such an A student. I haven't not gotten Bs since 6th grade. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?!?! I am supposed to be all 4.0-y and stuff, when everyone should know I am just not an academic person. Why are they doing this to me! They shoudl know I can't get good marks all the time, I'm not gifted like my brother or some of my friends. Ugh, stupid Edline.com! It's all their fault for putting my grades online!! I swear my parents check it 3 times a day. I honestly think so. *sighs* Okay, I need to stop venting. There is no point. Goodbye.

+Oh My Fucking God+
=Sunday, October 7, 2001=
I have so much homework. Why didn't anyone tell me?!?!? And don't say that you thought I knew, because it is common knowledge that I don't know what in God's name the homework is. Sheesh. Heh, of course I'm not even serious about all this, but hey...I just needed to write a little entry or something. *yawn* Also today... the Incubus tickets have been achieved. YES!! But then I was notified the rescheduled Weezer date is on the day of the Incubus concert. Aww, man. Well, technically, it's a win-win situation; I get a concert either way, but honestly when I look at it, it's like, "Who's your favorite band?" And hopefully you'll figure out my answer when I say I am missing out on Weezer.

+Ketchup+
=Sunday, October 7, 2001=
This weekend has been quite entertaining. Everything just gets better and better. I mean, it doesn't top charts as far as fun goes, but I got more than expected. Yesterday I saw Jason Webley again (jasonwebley.com, people) and he is a good performer, yes, but last night was kind of dissaponiting. I mean, it didn't hold the same magic. It was still great, but not as great as the very first time. Part of it was because of people. People complaining, people ditching me (^_^) and people stealing eachother away in the philosophical way. But then today, I went to the little carnival which was all in good fun, and it was, really. Shortly after, we ventured back to the outhouse, and all in all I'd say tonight I had much more fun. The music was better overall, the people were in better spirits overall, too. Oh, by the way, it was a bit umm, shall I say...interesting, because Jenny brought the spray snow and sprayed it all over the little courtyard area with the tables and chairs. The guy who runs the place (is his name eric?) had us clean it up with brooms and towels. In all honesty, it must've looked funny to see people brushing away the snow out there. It wasn't like we got scolded; he handled it quite well (*in the words of Maggie)but at the same time, I don't believe it was such a big deal. Even at school they don't really make you clean anything up. They say, "Bad you! You bad! RAR! OR ELSE!" and you will be like, "Or else what? You've never given me consequnces before..." Oh well. *shrugs*

In other news, I found an old roll of film that I hadn't gotten developed, and I just got the pictures back today. It's from a long time ago it appears, from the beach...Most of the photos are pretty bad, being that this was one of my first rolls of film with the camera. Thank God I have improved mildly. It's just funny to look back on photos and see what you took pictures of. Sometimes I don't see why I did it, because in all honesty I may forget the significance and all, but the thought is there...

+Escuela+
=Friday, October 5, 2001=
Hmm, Maggie took the rockstar boyfriend quiz thing and got Thom Yorke. So did I. So did Bonnie. That's not very accurate then. (I mean, no duh, I knew that before. Ahyuck.)But, that's still kind of funny. All three of us are completely different, so how could we end up with the same "boyfriend"? I know it's just a quiz, but beyond that it's funny to think about. Maggie and I have slightly similar interest in some male specimen. Bonnie and I have...wait, I can't say because I don't know who she likes. Hmm, that wouldn't work. The point is, umm, well there really isn't one. *shrugs* Okay, that's it. Time to eat something...
NOTE TO SELF: Bring Recorder to school.

+This is my pirate friend.+
=Thursday, October 4, 2001=
Her name is Maggie. And she is muy cool. Real nice. Real smart. Real genuine. Plus she's funny in that retarded corny way where you laugh at stupid things. And I can make fun of her and she doesn't care. Or if she does, she'll tell me straight up, and I can say "Oh I'm sorry." or "well, I'm only being honest." And either way, we're still buddies. It's nice to have a low maintenece friend you know. Know what else? She's a superb speller. And when she reads this, she will count the spelling mistakes, copy and paste it, fix errors, and e-mail it to me. No, not really. But serisouly. She's a trooper, you know. You ought to. Everybody gives her so much crap because they're jealous. I do it even, but not seriously. I think she's great. A balance between a 4.0 student and a down to earth funny girl who can find humor in puns and take jokes in the gut, too. I mean, really, really corny puns. Like if She says "I like A Burning Water." Then I will say, "Well, I like A Boiling Fire." And she may laugh. Ha ha. How many people do you know that would laugh at that, huh?

+Lately+
=Thursday, October 4, 2001=
I won't go into details. But many encounters have been occuring which make me quite the giddy schoolgirl type. Encounters of the...
-Cute boy at school kind (many times)
-Kind Neighbor of friend who lets us sit on property
-Little drummer boy.
There is so much more to it, but then not really. Depends how you think about it. The only reason I find it particularly interesting is because I never once thought none of those things would happen, and yet it all came through. In most cases, beautifully I might add. Oh, oh, oh. (that was not an orgasm.) Hmm, someone told me a sneeze is 1/10 of an orgasm. What do you think?

+This one's for you, Maggie+
=Thursday, October 4, 2001=
A pirate has a steering wheel in his pants, and walks into a bar. A man sees him and says, "Whoa, you look strange today...a steering wheel...in your pants!?!?!," where the Pirate then replies, "Arr! It's driving me nuts!!"
Har har, that's not how it goes. I can't remember part of it.
Also. People ask why pirates say "Shiver me timbers." Well, it's because if they have a wooden peg leg and they're cold, they would say it. You know, my wooden leg is cold. Even though I can't feel it because it is wood and there are no nerves there since my real leg is gone. But it's still cold. Brr.

++
=Wednesday, October 3, 2001=
Umm. I forgot to say. Yesterday I had a load of fun messing around, and today was pretty neat except I got scolded at school for not doing my homework. Har har. But it was ryan's birthday so we gave him a bra that said "Top Breast Stroker"...for that play on words being that he's a swimmer. The thing was, I felt sort of violated. I mean, just because it was my idea that i came up with in english...and it some how spread around everyone, then low and behold, everyone jumps on the boat and I ended up not having much to do with it in the end. People just decided they would help out that day, you know...like Oh look at me! I had a funny idea, see! I want attention. People pushed me away from it...that's why I'm saying this; it made me angry to have my idea used, and on top of that be told to "go away". I was even physically pushed by [censored to save face], and I serisously wanted to say, "Back off bitch! This was my idea! Don't tell me to go away! You were never meant to be involved in the first place!" So now ryan probably thinks I didn't buy him anything. Which is true, I didn't. But I was gonna give him that bra, but on Sunday during his little hoo-haa. Hmph. Bras are expensive you know.

+Today's the Day.+
=Wednesday, October 3, 2001=
When I came home, Thumper was lying on the bathroom floor breathing hard. She made abnormal hollow mews, and she was salivating, too. Even her eyes were crusty from crying and all. So, we ended up calling up Matt to report the scene, knowing all too well what we had to do. So we just drove down there and put her to sleep. Just. Like. That. The thing is that now, I feel really empty. Everyone always says what a dork I am for caring about my "dumb cats" so much. I've been made fun of for taking pictures of them, you know. Well, this is the reason why I take pictures. So I can remember. Thumper was so extraordinary to me because she was the exact same age as me. We've gone through all the same struggles as far as family and finances go, and we've had our share of lonely moments. 14 years is a long time for a cat to be alive. Thumper, Rest in Peace. Say hello to Scout for me, now...