Boring layout that will never be finished by:
Monself

Citaat:
"Course eventually I left, with my friends, we rode the taxi back, some guy tried to fight Jon and I passed out watching Lady Snowblood and awoke to Terrible Feelings. I got on a train, then another train, then a bus, then eventually got out and walked back to my room as the sleet continued to fall. Straight down like pinstripes and I walking through it: Indifferent, but real." -Riaz

Telling some one that it doesn't feel right when you kiss them seems to me like a good indication that you don't want to try to push a relationship in that direction again, right? Yes?

Yes. It does.

My honour guard left me alone, when it was their express job not to, so that portion of the night ended in awkwardly expressed thoughts and frustration, and most likely hurt feelings. And me, being pissed off.

I really don't have time for crap like this.

...And, of course, he just has to be in the only class I'm getting A's in.

Speaking of classes (to handily change the subject) I dropped my math class today, and then took my note from Dr. Morse confirming my FMS and CFS to Disability Services, and got registered there. I'll have to re-register next semester, but that's okay.

Apparently, there has been talk of an Art/Humanities program that will either be the duration of one month or an entire semester, and it will involve living in Italy. Students participating will share two-bedroom flats (in groups of four, two to a room), all within walking distance of several museums.

DUDE.

I want to do it very, very much. Part of it could be the language credit students are supposed to get learning a language, and learning Italian has appealed to me for some time. It's not Icelandic, but, well, there's no Art/Humanities program for Iceland. There should be, though. Especially since I'll be buying some winter clothes that I won't have a chance to use otherwise. And who knows? I might run into some particularly awesome bands who come from Iceland. And, I could hang out with Cherly! <3

So, tonight was the twentieth (I think) anniversary of Melissa's dad's death, so we sort of lazily celebrated by sitting around cracking jokes and eating pizza. We got Melissa a grape soda, because her dad bought them for her when she was a kid, and she drank half a beer (she doesn't like beer, so I guess she poured the rest on the ground?) in memory of him. Then we watched the Family Guy movie, and I tried to stop getting angry at the sudden surge of stupid men in my life. I need to hang out with Blayne more. He's one of my few guy friends that still lives in town and isn't an idiot.

When I got home, I went in my parents' room to tell my dad I was home, because he waits up as long as he can when I'm out late, and the light was still on. He'd fallen asleep, so I took off my shoes so I wouldn't make any noise, and I shut out his reading light. Before I did, he half-woke up and thanked me, and we said our good-night-I-love-you's. There was something so oddly...reverse-parental in the act that it kind of caught me off guard and added to the strangeness of the last couple of days. I keep forgetting how old my parents are, and that one of these days my siblings and I will be taking care of them instead of the other way around.

These last couple of days have not been entirely as awesome as I would have liked.

-K

I think that I should stop making friends with male artists online, since they seem to be such jerks about art. Well, the ones that have been to art school, anyhow.

My art is good enough for me, and it has meaning to me, and that's all that counts. I don't need the ratification of some self-serving, self-righteous (etc., etc.) to feel good about myself or my art.

All Yan's arguments did was more firmly ingrain my stance on art. Which is, that it doesn't have to have a clear meaning. Art is about expression and emotion, and those are never clear in every single case. Emotions can be mixed in so many explosive combinations, and there is no way on earth that everyone can understand every one else and not get bored.

One of the things that makes me so passionate about art is the fact that I can express myself with color -just color- and let people see it their own way. A particular painting may mean one thing to me, but if some one gets the complete opposite from that piece, I find it interesting, and it pleases me. Of course, I do get a bit of a rush when some one feels the same things that I do about a painting I've done, but I'm not as picky with my CD covers when they're just colors.

That's the beauty of it: a color can mean almost anything, depending on the warmth or coolness of it. A cooler blue can give the sense of (durr) coldness. We generally think of winter or icy scenes when we see those shades of blue. But a warmer blue can make some one think of the sky, or the sea. They're soothing, and I usually feel secure when I'm confronted with a warm blue.

But that's just me.

So anyhow.

Megan and I are finally going to see Corpse Bride tonight. We kept making plans to see it, and they didn't work out for various reasons. BUT. TONIGHT. It will be different.

-K

My friends are so awesome.

-K

He can make me cry, but he will never make me believe that what I do is not art.

I have tried to be fair to his side, to go back and read what he said, but I cannot believe that he's trying to tell me what my art is.

If any of you are artists, and are passionate about your work, you might be able to understand how insanely angry and hurt I am right now.

-K

ENC1101 is over now, and I am very relieved. I'm also not writing anything for the rest of the weekend, because I ended up writing six pages by hand for the Final Exam. Then I had to go to Botany and take notes...except Mr. McCracken recaps a lot of stuff from previous classes, so I already had most of what he said. BUT STILL.

I made a tripple chocolate cake when I got home from school, half with chopped pecans on top. I haven't had any yet, but it had better be freakin' delicious or I might not have the heart to do any baking for a long time. And let's face it: the world needs more baked goods. They bring so much happiness to us all.

Went to the Flogging Molly show in J-Ville with Megan and Melissa tonight. My throat is so sore, but I can hear again (basically a repeat of the Weezer + Foo Fighters show). We were right in the middle of the floor, and by the end of the show there was very little between us and the pit, which was uncomfortable. I've decided that, even though I loved being close enough to actually see the expressions on the faces of the people on stage, I don't like big, sweaty guys getting shoved at me.

Perhaps if I'd known more of the songs, I would have felt more of a temptation to jump into the pit and get my teeth bashed in by all the hulking punk rockers in the crowd. I doubt it, though. I was just fine sardined between Megan and a bunch of strangers, thanks very much.

There was also this one tall, stick-like blonde girl who kept getting violently shoved towards us. She was with some guy who was right in the action, and at one point all that was standing between Melissa and a possible elbow in the nose was this willowy stickwoman.

When it was over, I discovered that I was stepping on a large, silver hoop earring. I feel sorry for the person that lost it, if it came out the way I think it did.

All in all, I rediscovered that I love classic punk rock, and Flogging Molly, and that I am not much into thrashing when there are so many other people involved. I thrash on my own time, and that way, if I get hurt, I have only myself to blame.

The opening bands were okay. The Matches amused me, because at the end, the singer (who had the most idiotic hair I have seen in...well, a lot of people at that show had bad hair) did some kind of...pirouette while holding his guitar in such a way that made me think he might smash it on the stage. Instead he ended up with his arms in the V for Victory pose, up in the air.

I laughed at him.

Street Dogs were alright...not great or anything. The singer didn't play an instrument, and I wondered at the energy it must have taken him to dance around and sing at the same time. At least with an instrument to play, you've got an excuse to stand still under the blinding stage lights and not sweat overmuch.

Also, because he was from Boston, when he talked between songs it was kind of fun to listen to, except I mistook "party time" for "potty town" when he first said it.

So I laughed at him, too.

Flogging Molly rocked, of course, and the singer's accent was even more fun than Mr. Potty Town's. They played a couple of my favorite songs, and some of Megan's and Miss Lissa's, and we all had a really good time. When the sun is up and we've all had some sleep and taken showers, we're planning to finally go see Corpse Bride. Hoowa.

I would have called people in Jacksonville to see if they could hang out, but we just didn't have time, and everyone there is usually busy with work and such, and I wouldn't want to be like, "Hey, come pay money to go to this show so you can see me for a couple of hours in a dark, crowded place where we won't be able to hear each other talk."

It's just not very nice.

But yeah.

Sleep now.

-K

So uh. That essay?

The one that is due on Friday, because it is the last day of class.

The one that will not be accepted late.

I'm still typing it.

Because I'm HARDCORE into writer's block induced procrastination.

The good news is that I've been getting A's and B's on everything in this class. So let us hope that this essay either turns out extremely well, or is worth very little to the rest of my grade.

Also, let us hope that I can pass my final without any sleep.

--EDIT 5:02AM--

OMFG ESSAY IS TEH DONE.

Dude, seriously, I can't write argumentation essays. I don't like arguing a point that I'm not passionate about if I can't see my opponent, I guess. It took me so long do write it, and it was crap, and not very argumentative crap at that.

At least Smarty McWorldview's paper had a funky uber-conservative book quote in there (he's arguing for the side he doesn't agree with, because he likes to challenge himself or some suchlike snarkiness). But mine? It's about the contributions that the Jewish community has made over time. Where the idea came from, I do not know, but a sub-par essay is better than no essay at all.

The cold weather that keeps drifting in and out reminds me that you've been gone a long time. I wish I'd let you go sooner. I wish I hadn't made you promise you wouldn't ever leave me, because I needed you so much.

I wonder, when I look at McKinley and Wyatt, if I'd make them the same promises you made me.... I think I would. I wouldn't even hesitate.

I saw a girl on campus yesterday that looked like Hchano, from afar. She had the same kind of clothes (the exact same belt, I swear, hanging at just the same place below her navel), the same curly, crazy, long reddish hair pulled back lazily with a random hat on her head.

But as we got closer, she resembled Aych less and less. Her hair became more red and less brown, her skin not quite pale enough, her body not quite as lanky, its movement not loose enough, and her features nowhere near right. I'm not sure how it made me feel, but it was the most vivid thing that had happened to me the whole day, up to that point.

I am so tired right now.

-K

Arts.

-K

I should be writing my essay, but oh man you guys I freakin' love this song.

Oh, Postal Service. Please make another album. <3

-K

Apparently his opinion matters about sub culture, or art, or...something?

I have four English assignments that I should have done by today, and that I haven't. One of which I lost. Two of which are connected, but I can't do one without doing the other, and the other is an essay which I am completely blank on. Blank like the pristine white expanses of printer paper sitting in a neat pile in the printer, waiting to...well, to be printed on. Gnur.

So uh...

Oops, I guess?

I'm so glad English is ending on Friday. And, I hope to heaven that I pass, because it was hard work. I am tired, man. Tired.

I have to go in to do the tilt table test with Derrek today. I have to do it fasting...apparently so I won't throw up?

I guess they don't know how nauseous I get when I don't eat, which kind of defeats the purpose of fasting (I cheated last time they did it, and had a banana before I went to have the test done...and I didn't throw up).

It is horrifying to think that there are people who don't have food. Here I am, thinking of how difficult it is, what an inconvenience it is not to be able to eat breakfast, and there are people who starve to death.

It's very depressing.

And it's too early to be depressed, especially since I was up all night trying to do those assignments.

Anyone want to do my homework for me for the rest of my school career? I can pay you with cheesecake and gratitude.

-K

We laughed so hard tonight that it almost gave me a headache. It hurt my throat, and I could not breathe. I'm so glad I stayed home tonight. It's good to laugh like that again.

Ugh. I missed English today...I think I'm getting sick. But then, I've been fighting it off since school started, and I've made fairly good progress with my attendance if you compare my current track to the one I had in high school (which makes me wince inwardly, and sometimes outwardly).

On the walk to Botany, I felt breezy and feminine. This, I know, was wholly due the weather, and my low-healed bohemian sandals. Also, it's always felt so recklessly feminine to put makeup on at the last second to me (i.e. in the car, still fixing my eyeliner and brushing my hair as mom pulls in front of the English building).

Botany was fun today, because we had a guest speaker, who taught us about dulcimers. I want to learn to play one, now...which apparently is insanely easy. Very tempting.

I took advantage of the sale at Reaver's today, seeing as how those tubes of oils are usually around ten or twelve dollars each, as opposed to the five I bought them for.

Rock on to the bank, man.

So, I made an apple cinnamon cake today. I felt inadequate because in the picture on the box, the cake is light and fluffy. But then I remembered that the recipe calls for a twenty-one ounce can of apple pie filling, and I felt better about it, despite the fact that I've been lied to by a box.

I have a couple of ideas for fanarts, which I got from the art of Rodolphe Guenoden, who apparently did some of the storyboarding for Sinbad. Hopefully I can keep my own style strong enough so that it is merely homage rather than theft (especially since he threatens any potential thieves with a punch in the stomach, which I've never really thought would be pleasant).

It has recently come to my attention that I honestly don't know if I could ever really love a man who does not like Ben Folds, or Radiohead. Or many others. But particularly Ben Folds. I mean, come on! It's Ben Folds!

SO. Corpse Bride tomorrow, after I buy a dress for Debbie's wedding, and force her to buy a decent bra for herself for the wedding?

Why, yes!

-K

Apparently, when the weekend rolls around, I either sleep until a few hours after lunch, or until it's almost time for dinner.

This is very disconcerting, but is most likely do to the fact that I have very little to do on Saturdays, and have a years-long habit of skipping church. It takes a much longer time to get back into the swing of it when I have other problems that somehow always manage to seem so much bigger than the state of my immortal soul...which is odd, since it's the most important thing I have (feel free to disagree with me on any point there; I'm too tired to argue).

J-D and I watched House of Flying Daggers last night (aka: this morning), and we both proclaimed it to be extremely good. Personally though, I am getting fairly sick of sad endings, even when they are the only way for the story to work.

What can I say? I'm tired of reality. I've got my own depressing situations and happenings to worry about without having to deal with those of fictional Ancient Chinese lovers, no matter how awesomely they fight or dress.

It was sort of the same with The Grapes of Wrath. It was well written, but it was also well over 1,000 pages of crappy things happening to the main characters. AND YES I KNOW IT WAS THE GREAT DEPRESSION SHUT UP WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK I DO NOT KNOW THIS.

Ugh.

Like nothing ever good happened during the Great Depression, so a book about it has to be depressing one hundred percent of the time.

I must say though, that China is insanely beautiful. If I could go hang out for an afternoon in that bamboo forest in (I think it was) Chungking, I would pack myself a lunch, some art supplies, my sister's camera, and go.

I lent Mega-N and Miss Lissa my Death Cab for Cutie album on Friday. I hope they enjoy it.

Speaking of Death Cab: I need to send that record to Kristen, and Hchano or Luna must send the other album to me.

I demand it most emphatically, verily, yea.

People don't say "verily" enough.

Only two more weeks of English left, and then I get to sleep in three days of the week.

It pisses me off when people say things like, "Psh, you have to get up at 8:30? I have to get up at =insert insane time=!" Because, that's just great buddy, but you don't have a disease that makes you tired all of the time and that will never go away for the rest of your life.

Sorry to be mean about it, but I'm getting fed up with people thinking that because they get up an hour or so earlier than I do, it makes them more tired. Because, see, I haven't felt like I've had a good night's rest since I was in fourth grade, and I usually wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. And since, lately, less energy equals less patience.

I am tired of people not staying on topic in my English class' discussion board. The assignment was not to go off on some angry tangent about how stupid Americans can be about other cultures. It was to make a comment about the descriptive words used in a short story Amy Tan wrote.

Get off your self-righteous hobby horse and stop avoiding the assignment, Smarty McWorldview. None of us are impressed by your vocabulary, or your claims of a working knowledge of five langauages, or the fact that you make an effort to be nice to at least four foreigners each day.

Dude, I don't even see four foreigners each day. All the people I see who might be of other nationalities are Americans. Besides, shouldn't I treat everyone with the same amount of respect, regardless of what country they're from? Even if it's my own? Wouldn't that be a better way to go about proving my beliefs about racial equality?

Man. I did not mean to go off like that. But I am really tired of people who think they're better than everyone else because they treat people from other countries so well while they hold people from their own country in contempt. And then call themselves better Americans.

-K

After a mild panic induced by the realization that four parts of an eight part Botany-related assignment were due today, and a mildly frantic scramble to get them done...I discovered that today is not, in fact, the due date. They are due ten days from now.

I got them done, anyway. I usually do work fairly well under pressure, so it's just as well, I suppose.

Example: I made those cheesecakes at the very last minute and was freaking out the whole time for various reasons, and everyone loved them.

Of course, with or without pressure, I make freakin' delicious cheesecakes. I owe Blayne another one though, because the one I made for him was not as good as I would have liked, and I refuse to have a subpar cheesecake staining my records with its insidious blueberry toppings!

And, Ms. Dean, my offer still stands. If you're ever in Tallahassee for some reason, look me up and we'll have us some cheesecake.

Possibly some new art later on today, or maybe tonight...or early tomorrow morning. You know how it is with me. You know how I do.

(I am smirking because none of you will get that...unless Kim, Khalo, or Leslie are reading)

-K

The wedding was lovely, and Lina was beautiful. They even had Green Eyes play during part of the service, which got my foot quietly but irreverently tapping on the church's floor.

It was really good to see everyone again, and to provide them with taste-gasmic cheesecakes.

However, on Saturday I left half of my things at Tiff's Aunt Laura's house, so that night I was without retainer, toothbrush, and my various medicines. Also, I didn't have my homework (all of which now smells of cigarettes), so I'm currently pecking away at this between sentences agonizingly squeezed out for my essay (it's taking me over forever to write this, so it's more like 7:00 in the morning).

It is getting harder to write these essays as the semester progresses. I have to keep reminding myself that I will be finished with this class on the twenty-first of this month (only nine class periods left!), but it doesn't seem to be helping. Especially now, when I can't seem to focus on anything but my various personal problems.

Particularly the one that involves location and other more important things.

Speaking of location, Luna spent the night here because she was so tired, and is now on her way back to Jacksonville with some new music.

I'm hungry.

And it makes me sad that there is an ad for firming lotion (featuring a picture of a girl's butt in a bright yellow bikini bottom, covered in sand) on the same page Yahoo! has linked for news about U.S. helicopters firing on a western Iraqi town. Now you can Say Goodbye to Cellulite and read about the "Iron Fist" offensive at the same time!

-K

Item 1: Melissa turned twenty-six yesterday! I made her a book, and we (Megan, Robert, Melissa, myself, and Roddy) went to some...Mexican place that I can't remember the name of now. It was fairly good, though.

Item 2: While mom and I clipped Tim's claws, he partially got away from us by nature of his sleek coat and gelatinous nature. In an attempt to hold on to him, we did incured his portly wrath, and he did smite us mightily, yea, even unto bleeding.

Aka, he took a swipe at me (luckily, with a paw that brandished now-blunted scimitars) and just barely got my face. He also bit/clawed my arm, but I got off easy.

Mom...ugh. His fangs got stuck in her arm. I could be graphic about it, because I still have a disturbingly vivid image of his struggle to free himself and his teeth, but I doubt anyone wants to hear about it, and I want to think about it as little as possible.

Her arm was already swollen and starting to bruise by the time she got herself to the sink to wash it. She went to the doctor to get a tetanus shot (and had to wait three hours without a chair because the stupid nurse took it to some one else).

Within the twelve hours it took mom to get to the doctor for a shot and to have the bite looked at, she'd already developed cellulitis (an inflamation of the tissues beneath the skin). She has to soak it, heat it with a heating pad, take antibiotics, and probably some other stuff.

Needless to say, I have been wracked with guilt for the actions of my pet.

He was perfectly nice to her this morning, though. The jerk.

Item 3: For the most part, my still-life is finished. I say "for the most part" because I wasn't sure how to go about the hightlights, and I ran out of time before I got to them anyway. It is not the best painting I've ever done, but it is fairly decent for a beginner.

Besides, this was basically just an exercise to teach us the methods, and the technical side of painting.

Item 4: So long as Rob remembers to e-mail me those directions, I will be going to Jacksonville tomorrow night for Adam and Sarah's wedding on Saturday.

I still have a lot to do, so it's just as well that I won't be heading out until J-D gets back from work tomorrow night. I'm relieved, though, because he's giving me a ride, and it means that none of the J-Ville crew needs to worry about it. With all the things I still need to do, it would have been pushing the time frame too close to the rehearsal.

PS: Zounds! Banned Book Week!

...I have to complete yet another essay which I have no desire to write. It makes me exhausted to think of it.

-K

Apple & Eve's "Strawberry Mango Passion" is delicious. Just so you know.

This is the most difficulty I have ever had with a writing assignment, so far as I can remember.

If it weren't for the fact that I'd have to write everything that I've already written over again, and pay for the class a second time, I just might consider dropping this course and spending the mornings of Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in a mental state that is severely lacking in consciousness.

But then, the class is almost over. I just have to keep reminding myself that it will be worth it, even though I haven't actually learned anything (besides MLA format, which has proven itself to be completely useless).

I have an idea of what I am going to get Lina and Tiff for the wedding, which is nice. One less thing to worry about and all that jazz.

I'll get one for Debbie and Dustin while I'm there, too. And then I will spoil myself rotten at Reaver's, and buy myself some more sable brushes. I swear to you, for blending, boars' hair is better. But for the rest of it, sable is delicious.

While writing that, it occured to me that I have no idea what sable is, besides something that people get fur from. So I looked it up on the interweb, and a bunch of pin-up shots of a scary blonde wrestler woman came up. It made me sad and frightened.

Except I kept looking, and found an antelope that appears to have fur that fits the bill. Poor antelope. How could you know that evolving with fur like that would make you so perfectly suited to the application of paint (and, apparently, makeup...which is basically the same thing)?

-K

All of my Biloxi/Jacksonville friends seem to be having a really horrid time as of late.

So: ART.

This one is for Lina. Hopefully there will be more to come.

The last class of the day was cancelled for me on both Thursday and Friday this week. It was nice, because I got to go home and take naps, so I've been in a slightly better mood lately, but I'm still not as coherent as I'd like to be. Blayne can attest to a particularly bad incident of dyslexia and confusion on my part, and I keep making errors in spelling.

I used mom's nail buffing thing while watching The Truman Show, and now my nails are smooth and shiney.

Megan, Robert, mom, and I all went to Wal*Mart today to shop for hats and a doorknob. Mom found two hats, and Robert got a new doorknob for our front door. The old one was broken the same way that the older old one was broken: a person of small stature swinging on it, and hanging from it. In this case, it was McKinley. The first time, it was me. So I can't really blame him, because I know how much fun it is.

Church and a tea party today, after the sun comes up.

I still haven't written that essay. I am emotionally and mentally dry on the subjects given. We've talked them both out in class, and on the class forums, and quite frankly, I have nothing left to say.

That, and I seem to be in a writing slump at the mo'. Pictures, now. I'm relatively alright with them as of late. Gimme a tablet pen and Photoshop, and I will draw what "good writing" is. I will draw what it means to be a man/woman in America today. 'Cause I really don't want to talk about it anymore.

I am listening to Sunday Bloody Sunday, and it is SUNDAY. HA. HAHA!

My legs hurt from sitting in this chair.

-K

Pickle juice should not be added to Swedish meatballs, and if I ever come across the person that came up with the idea, I will certainly not be highfiving them for their culinary creativity.

The honey and the cranberry sauce I will let go, but pickle juice? I mean, come on! I gave it a try, and managed to eat a fair amount of it, but in the end it was too disconcerting to eat.

So, I think I should definately comfort myself with this here oatmeal pie, because on top of such an odd dinner, today was not all that great.

I must admit, though, it was way cool to hear Phillipe's soft, subtle accent as he asked Mr. Ward a question after class. I would have stayed to listen to it some more, but that would have been weird. Like the other day, when the two girls and that guy were speaking fluent Japanese outside of the room I go to for Botany, and my step perceptibly slowed so I could catch as much of the conversation as possible.

I don't know what it is, but there is just something about foreign accents and languages that make me giddy.

That, and Phillipe has a certain resemblance to John Cusack, but more, you know, tan.

Painting was cancelled today, and I had not realized how quickly I came to depend on it as an outlet for stress. Stephen was quite unhappy about it, too, let me tell you.

I was also half asleep for most of the day, which was not exactly helpful during Math.

But I had a feeling when I got up this morning that today would not be terribly fantastic when mom woke me up from one of the best dreams I've had in a long time. The kind you try to slip back into through out the day, and later that night, but you can never quite get to it.

Well!

That essay isn't writing itself.

-K

I bought two CD's, and got a free Death Cab for Cutie LP, so if Kristen wants it (and still has her record player), I will send it to her with the monies for my bag.

We (Petrea, Megan, Debbie, and myself) went to try on dresses at the bridal shop. Debbie and I will need new bras for the occasion. Petrea may or may not, since her breast reduction went so well, and left her with such a nice bust. Megan said I probably wouldn't need one either, but I dunno. It was too weird, not having anything between me and that dress. Also: I like not worrying about what will happen when I bend over.

I really wanted that dark red one. It made the fact that my skin is rosy a lot more obvious. Usually, everyone is blinded (har har) to it by my exceedingly fair coloring.

Gnurr.

I got a C+ on my first Botany test, and my over-all grade for the class is a B. The only questions I missed were the ones I wasn't sure of, and guessed the answers for, so at least I know what areas I need to work on.

I also got a 92 on my first essay for English, but the mistakes were little, technical things that I honestly didn't know about (and mostly to do with MLA format, which I've never used before). Besides, an A is an A, even if it's lower than I'd like. I'm not sure of the grade on the Math test, but I feel confident about it.

I just wish that I was actually sleeping at night. It's hard to learn things when I want to curl up and sleep. In English, I was sitting behind Daniel Tatum, and he poked me twice to make sure I was awake before he asked me something. He also said something about it being time to get up when he came into the classroom to sit down. I was sorely tempted to mumble "Five more minutes, mom?"

Ms. Price changed the due date of our essay from Friday to Monday. She took a vote. I strongly suspect the only reason that Austen voted to keep it due on Friday is because he knew we'd all vote for Monday, and is a contrary sort of person. Also, his essay is done, or something. Psh.

Oi.

Have to look over that math homework.

-K

I came up with a name for Ham: Poopaw. Because she keeps falling in the toilet. I have also come up with a description of Tim: chubby lightning. Because he is both portly and swift.

Well. J-D thought it was funny, anyway.

There is a guy in my painting class that I get along with rather well. We have similar tastes in music, which is always nice. Sometimes I suspect he likes me. Even with cadmium yellow on my nose. Got to nip this in the bud.

A teacher asked each of us in the class to write down our deepest desire. My first thought was "to be a mother". I found it surprising at first, and then interesting. But my more nurturing instincts have grown a lot since my nephews and niece came along, so it's really not much of a shock when I stop to think about it. Maybe when I'm more patient, and can find some one I'm willing to put up with forever, and who is willing to put up with me.

I am out of cherry limeade. Mom says it reminds her of the cough syrup she took when she was a little girl. But I think it tastes a lot better than cough syrup, because the stuff I had was always distinctly un-tastey. I can see it, though. Artificial cherry is pretty generic.

The woman at the orthodontist's office wants me to wear my retainer fifteen hours a day or more because "there's been some slight shifting". Now, let me go over a couple of things with you:

1. My teeth gradually shift a very little bit during the day, and when I put my retainer on at night, it puts them back in place. The shift is imperseptible to everyone I talk to every day but me, because I am the one actually wearing the retainer. So, if I haven't had my retainer on since I got up in the morning, and my appointment is around 5:30 or 5:45 in the evening, I believe it would be safe to assume that my teeth have done their marginal shifting by then.

2. There is no way I am going to wear this thing for fifteen hours every night. I get up at around 8:30 or 8:40 every morning. Count back fifteen hours. That means that I would have to put my retainer on at around 5:30 every night. Which is never, never going to happen. Because, see, I like it when people can understand the things I say to them, and I like it when I don't drool slightly when I talk because there are big plastic things over my teeth.

In conclusion, the woman is an idiot, and the original ten hours she said I absolutely had to do is more than enough to demand from me.

I have a 750 word essay (first draft) due today. I haven't written a single word.

-K

Shouted the deaf actress as she got into her car, waving goodbye to us.

"Us" being my mother and myself.

I don't know, maybe it's a little stereotypical of me, but something about people using the word "vagina" in a non-medical sentence directed at my mother just kind of...catches me off my guard. Kind of a lot.

Even coming from some one who acts with the Mickey Faust Club.

Also, there is a fly in here, and I hope that Ham doesn't notice it, because she will tear my room apart trying to catch it, and my room is always messy enough without feline damages, for which I am not insured.

I still have school work to do, and my brain hurts.

I paid to feel like this. For two years I will be paying money that I could be spending on CD's and a vespa. So I guess it's a good thing that I don't regret it, and that I'm enjoying my classes when I'm not half-way to falling asleep in them.

-K

Apparently, people who wear headphones a lot go deaf much sooner.

Did you know that, part of the reason my hair does that weird wavy thing in the front is because of my headphones?

Ill tidings! Indeed, it does not bode well for thee, my sweet ears.

I am getting very tired of this constant, random losing of my connection.

Very tired.

We will start our first "long painting" tomorrow, which means that we'll be working with real canvases, as apposed to canvas paper.

I have loads of homework, which sucks rather a great deal. But on the plus side, my English teacher says I am the "most advanced student in the class". Except for Austen, who purposely flunked the little CLAST thing Ms. Price had us take at the start of the semester. He thought, for some reason, that scoring high would mean that he would have to take it again...which is a bit confusing for me, since one is usually in the clear when one does well on a test. I can't remember his reasoning clearly, but oh well. The stupidity of flunking a test on purpose is reason enough for me to consider myself at least more honest, anyway. But now, because he didn't do very well, he has all of this make-up work to do. Heh!

I am making a CD to play in Painting I. Stephen has good taste in music, but I had control of the radio for so long with Kim that I'm just used to being in control of it.

Okay, wtf is this:
Black Merquise (8:49:03 PM): I gotta go for about 45 minutes or so.
Black Merquise (8:49:16 PM): I'll catch you later, if you're on. :x
KchanZombie (8:49:18 PM): That's alright. :3
KchanZombie (8:49:27 PM): It was good to talk to you for a bit.
Black Merquise (8:49:43 PM): I guess.
Black Merquise is away at 8:49:48 PM.
You know, there was a reason we called him Hoey instead of Joey, and I think I just remembered it.

I should like, probably go do some of that homework I have to do to like, get my AA or whatever.

-K

Oldish art.

The turpentine and dish soap we use to clean the turpentine from our brushes is drying out my hands quite badly. I would drink more water to counter it, but I don't like having to pee all of the time.

I am craving a butterfinger crisp like what. However, I am currently lacking in the butterfinger crisp department, so I will make do with these peanut m&m's.

When they are gone, I have to go empty the litter box, or suffer the consiquences. And let me assure you, they will be very dire.

-K

DUDE.

Just.

DUDE.

It rocked so hardcore that I don't think it is possible for anything to be more hardcore, ever.

HAHA! That random long-distance number that keeps calling me called me just now, when I actually have my phone with me, so I was able to answer it and be all, "You have the wrong number." BOOYAH.

Anyway. The concert.

When we got there, the opening band (whose name I did not catch because people were cheering) was rather good, and then there was some boring setting up of the stage, and then Weezer came on and completely rocked. It was a beautiful thing to behold. By the time the Foo Fighters came on, my hearing was muffled, and my throat was very sore (none of which I cared about).

Honestly, I am too tired to describe any of it in detail, just that Rivers is a lot shorter than I originally thought, Eddie is quite enamoured of the f-bomb, and for some reason both of their voices sounded a lot higher than they do on records or television. Maybe it was the accoustics?

When we got back to the hotel (which was quite nice despite the fact that it's being renovated), we had pizza. Then Megan and Melissa dropped their joint in the toilet (which had the most amazing suction powers outside of an airline toilet that I have ever witnessed) and then decided to dry it with the hair dryer, and smoke it anyway.

So far as I know, Robert still hasn't kissed Megan with tongue since the toilet joint.

I kept expecting to see you there. It was a really weird feeling.

Also: lots of inside jokes.

And: IBC cherry lime-ade.

Plus: Homework. :(

In addition: we got back too late for me to make it to school, so I will have to be extra nice to my teachers, since I forgot that the concert was yesterday, and sort of...didn't warn them ahead of time. Heh.

By the way: pineapple and lychee bubble juice is delicious.

-K

WEEZER + FOO FIGHTERS IN CONCERT TOMORROW = GOING TO ROCK SO HARD.

I'll tell you all about it when I get back, baby.

-K

I own a passport.

-K

My Math teacher is an interesting man.

He pronounces the word particularly as "puh-tick-yoo-lah-lee".

He is a fairly good teacher, though, so I won't complain.

I have an idea for some Luna-art, but I haven't started it yet. I always have so much homework, and am so tired now.

TCC seems to be generously sprinkled with people I know, either from church or SAIL. I'm crossing my fingers to run into one person in puhtickyoolah, but I doubt it will happen.

LAST NIGHT:

As I slept, mom, while looking for Ham (who was howling for no reason, as always) opened my door. As soon as it was open, Ham teleported behind her, ran between her legs, and with a mighty yowl, leapt onto my bed.

Apologizing, mom grabbed Ham (who protested quite loudly and profusely) and shut the door.

AROUND MIDNIGHT:

J-D knocks on my door. "Mmfhg." I say in response. He opens the door and says, "Oh! I thought I saw your light on. I'm sorry. I just wanted to show you my new tattoo."

I don't sleep with pants or a bra on, so I had to cover myself decently enough to turn the light on, and roll over to look at his new tattoo. I know it's not a lot of effort, but when I'm tired and have just gotten back to sleep after Ham has been obnoxious, I'm a little begrudging of my engergy usages.

Anyhow, he got some kind of...tribal-ish...design thing. Nothing overly spectacular, but it's big; from elbow to wrist, on the inside of his arm. It's also better than his other tattoos (ugly dragon, which hasn't had the coloring finished, and some kind of warrior/demon/guy-in-a-loincloth which hasn't had any coloring done).

He was going to get the initials of our nephews and niece tattoo'd on himself someplace or other, but he got the design on his arm instead.

(Personally, I think I could have designed something better, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so shhh.)

Harrison actually wrote a journal entry recently, which was a pleasant surprise. I hope Joel follows suit. I want to know how that boy is.

Much relief and thankfulness on the matters of the state of Kristen's dad's home, and Luna's safety. I hope everything gets cleared up soon.

First actual painting today.... I've done better, honestly. But then, I've never tried to paint from life, still or otherwise.

Julie is kind and helpful when she criticizes, and down-to-earth when she compliments. It's just enough of a compliment for you to know you're doing well, but not enough to feed your ego overmuch. So far, I know that I have a good range of color, and that I need to work on definition. I won't count the comment about using too much paint, because I knew right when I had the paint on the brush that she would come by and say something about restraint. I was also about to remedy it on my own, so nyeh.

The turpentine and dish soap have dried out my hands.

Dad tried to teach me about Binary, Octal, and Hex. It was interesting and, toward the end, illogical (26 = 32, what?).

-K

I have to swear to myself, "It was just a slip of the tongue."

It must have been, see, because otherwise.... Otherwise, the ramifications are just. Well. Heart-breaking.

And heart-break gets old after the first time, never mind the second, third, fourth, and after that you maybe stopped counting.

Also, I'm introducing a new section over on the left tonight. Bit o' Honesty. Like that gross candy, Bit o' Honey, but with less honey and more pretention! I have no idea how my dad can stand to eat it, but he seems to love that stuff. Big ol' sweet tooth, has my dad.

Ew...

-K

And by that I know he meant that I was hot and sweaty from lifting lots of weights and bothered because he kept asking me if I was sure I didn't want any water or anything, seeing as how he made that comment to my mother.

I mean, come on!

Sorry I left up such a retarded and whiney entry for so long. I got caught up with school, and the 'net has been acting up a bit. I've been exhausted all this week.

At least my painting class went well, and the teacher told me I had a good range of color.

There is a pain in my back, right between my shoulderblades, and it is difficult to find a comfortable way to sit.

College is nice, but also kind of sucks a lot.

Why is it that girls' shirts cost more than guys' shirts do when buying them on-line? Frustration insues.

Gnurg.

So, any of you SAIL students remember Rose? Because she is just as pretty as ever, and is in my painting class, which was surprising and nice.

I have designated painting pants. The guy who was working next to me saw the colorful result of the day on my pants, and grinning, said something along the lines of, "Whoa, you're plus indie points!" to which I responded, "Yeah, it's great for my street cred, but it's bad for the car apolstry..."

When J-D came to pick me up, I first asked him how much he loved the apolstry in his truck, to which he darkly replied in his ominous pack-a-day voice, "Why?" but then he seemed to be amused by the state of my clothes, so eh.

I only got a tiny bit of naples yellow on his seatbelt. I'm considerably more upset about the little spot of cadmium red on my shorts, which I did not even wear to school today (I changed into them for weight training).

For some reason, I have not been able to sleep all week. People ask me if it's because I'm nervous about classes, but frankly, I was only a little apprehensive on the first day, and that was because of the terrible things I'd heard about McKracken (who seems to be a fairly okay guy, even if he is a dork).

Thing is, I am still unexplicably up for most of the night, and then I have to get up early to get ready for school. I almost fell asleep several times in Math today, which, if this keeps up, is going to majorly suck when Mr. Ward starts to cover things that I don't understand.

First English assignment of the year I got wrong. I didn't write down exactly what it was supposed to be, so it's entirely my fault. "A Writing Experience" or something like that...which is not specific. Luckily, it isn't due until today, so I have all night to write it, and to get all that reading done.

People in New Orleans have gone insane. I'm very relieved that Kristen's dad and his lady friend got out okay, but I worry about their house being damaged and looted and who knows what else.

I'm also worried about Biloxi, since the damage was so horrendous. I'm strangely calm about Luna, though. I'm far from blasé about it, but I'm not half beside myself like I was when she served in Iraq.

I think I'm going to both love and hate Painting I. There's a lot that I'll learn from it, but at the same time I'm not sure that I want to try my hand at some of the assignments. I'll have to "copy the work of a master" at some point in the semester, and I am loathe to attempt some one else's style when I'm not even clear on what my own is, since it always seems to be shifting around (not that that's a bad thing).

-K