T minus 41 days
Candy Apple Red Nail Polish
15 lbs.
An aversion to serious music…or at least a lack of real connection to it.
These are things that have changed about me since Olive died. Not much. But the bigger things that have changed are too difficult to articulate, not because they’re too difficult for me to talk about but because the change was too gradual and too difficult to pinpoint.
Sometimes I wonder why nobody ever talks to me about her. Does nobody know? My other half disappeared from the earth almost a year ago. Does it seem like I’m perfectly all right? And even more than that, is no one at all curious what it’s like to lose the person you are closest to in the whole world?
I wish someone would ask. Because it’s odd. It’s not as sad or as lonely as I thought it would be. It is literally like she just vanished, and now I use memories to remind myself that she once existed. This girl who I spent all my time with. Whose name became synonymous with mine to the ears of nearly everybody we knew. We had the same tendencies and reactions. We were both shy, but exuberant. We liked Savage Garden and being introspective. We liked acting. We were extremely silly. We hated being taken for granted. We always felt the same things at the same time. We never ever liked the same boys. We were both warm people, but whenever we hugged each other it was sort of awkward. The kind of awkward hug where both the people are really skinny, instead of one of the people being relatively cuddly. It’s hard to explain, but though we never talked about it, I am sure she would have known exactly what I mean, and we would have laughed at the fact that we both recognized it separately and someone finally brought it up.
We were also different. She was flexible. I was most definitely not. Physically, that is. She also had a more flexible demeanor and was more conscientious. Whenever there was any tension between us—and mind you, this would always be unspoken, and never developed into an actual fight…there were NEVER any fights between us, which I have never experienced with any other friend—she would attempt to resolve it and could not rest until everything was perfect again, and she had restored our emotional chi.
How odd it is, that the person my life was based solidly around for years, is gone and I am still emotionally intact. I don’t feel sad on a day-to-day basis. And I don’t constantly think of her. What should I do, though? How are you supposed to act? You move on. Because you can’t go back. Not to be all metaphorical, but it is literally like that chapter of my life is closed for good. And so I am living in a completely new book. Maybe when more time passes I’ll be able to look back at the Life With Olive book, and slip into memories without apprehension. But for now, the extent of my reminiscing about that time is restricted to what I write in here.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
"Mess with me and you mess with the entire trailer park."
I knew that we had finally hit a southern state yesterday when we stopped for lunch and the people at Subway took a full 20 minutes to make two sandwiches for us. I swear to God, its faster in the HUB...and there, you have to wait in a 10 person line before you can even order.
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina has been a bundle of fun. I don't actually particularly like the place, and I like the people here even less, but it turns out that the older I get, the more I appreciate the hilarity that is my mother, father and sister. Today, after having breakfast at the crack of noon, during which I was called "darlin" more times than I have ever been called it before put together, we jetted off to a sort of outdoor mall/kid-attraction development. The kind of thing that reminds you of Wild Waves with all of its have-fun-in-a-super-fake-place glory. The best part was when we went into one of those beyond hokey t-shirt stores that have literally hundreds of shirts saying things like "Facebook friend request reject" and "I couldn't figure out why the frisbee kept getting bigger and bigger, and then...it hit me." The fabulous part was that my dad bought me one of the most ridiculous ones under the condition that I would actually wear it around campus. I'm pretty much psyched about it.
Funniest family moment: after leaving a candy store my mother mentions that they had free fudge samples and my sister gasps and charges headlong back into the store to claim hers. As soon as my dad registers the conversation and realizes that he is missing out on a free fudge nugget he turns around and follows my sister back into the store at a full-on jog, knocking aside two members of the enormous cheerleading convention that is apparently in town who were exiting. When he came back outside to find me on the ground after snorting my fudge and spitting it all over the ground laughing at him, he defended himself with "Those cheerleaders were clearly confused about which way they were going, so I was just helping them to the side of the walkway."
Next we played the most excellent game of miniature golf that I have ever engaged in. The course was a piece of waterfall-covered, island extravagance, complete with sea monsters in the water and different levels that all the holes were on. On the highest level you could see out far over the water. In my last 8 shots I got a hole-in-one every other time too, which made the entire experience even more noteworthy. Usually, my golf skills are only as good as Dick Cheney is congeneal. And, to top it all off, playing golf in South Carolina holds special significance because SC was the location of the first game of golf in the United States. Booyakasha.
What's weird, though, is that I've seen a maximum of 10 black people since we passed Virginia, not counting my dad. I thought there were supposed to be a lot of African'Americans in the South. Although, granted, if I were fully black, I would NOT be living in a place where the Confederate flag can be seen flying even more often than the American flag (which is nearly everywhere).
“And I want to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that there’s not enough troops in the Army to force the Southern people to break down segregation and admit the nigger race into our theatres, into our swimming pools, into our homes and into our churches.”
-Strom Thurmond, July 17, 1948
Lovely man, produced by the great state of South Carolina, and representing them in the U.S. Senate from '54 to 2003.
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina has been a bundle of fun. I don't actually particularly like the place, and I like the people here even less, but it turns out that the older I get, the more I appreciate the hilarity that is my mother, father and sister. Today, after having breakfast at the crack of noon, during which I was called "darlin" more times than I have ever been called it before put together, we jetted off to a sort of outdoor mall/kid-attraction development. The kind of thing that reminds you of Wild Waves with all of its have-fun-in-a-super-fake-place glory. The best part was when we went into one of those beyond hokey t-shirt stores that have literally hundreds of shirts saying things like "Facebook friend request reject" and "I couldn't figure out why the frisbee kept getting bigger and bigger, and then...it hit me." The fabulous part was that my dad bought me one of the most ridiculous ones under the condition that I would actually wear it around campus. I'm pretty much psyched about it.
Funniest family moment: after leaving a candy store my mother mentions that they had free fudge samples and my sister gasps and charges headlong back into the store to claim hers. As soon as my dad registers the conversation and realizes that he is missing out on a free fudge nugget he turns around and follows my sister back into the store at a full-on jog, knocking aside two members of the enormous cheerleading convention that is apparently in town who were exiting. When he came back outside to find me on the ground after snorting my fudge and spitting it all over the ground laughing at him, he defended himself with "Those cheerleaders were clearly confused about which way they were going, so I was just helping them to the side of the walkway."
Next we played the most excellent game of miniature golf that I have ever engaged in. The course was a piece of waterfall-covered, island extravagance, complete with sea monsters in the water and different levels that all the holes were on. On the highest level you could see out far over the water. In my last 8 shots I got a hole-in-one every other time too, which made the entire experience even more noteworthy. Usually, my golf skills are only as good as Dick Cheney is congeneal. And, to top it all off, playing golf in South Carolina holds special significance because SC was the location of the first game of golf in the United States. Booyakasha.
What's weird, though, is that I've seen a maximum of 10 black people since we passed Virginia, not counting my dad. I thought there were supposed to be a lot of African'Americans in the South. Although, granted, if I were fully black, I would NOT be living in a place where the Confederate flag can be seen flying even more often than the American flag (which is nearly everywhere).
“And I want to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that there’s not enough troops in the Army to force the Southern people to break down segregation and admit the nigger race into our theatres, into our swimming pools, into our homes and into our churches.”
-Strom Thurmond, July 17, 1948
Lovely man, produced by the great state of South Carolina, and representing them in the U.S. Senate from '54 to 2003.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Bitch and a half.
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness. Small emotional crisis RIGHT NOW!
I hate endings so much. I never understand it. I look forward to the end of the quarter so much because I get so overloaded, especially when I work plus take 20 credits, that I would decombust if it dragged on too long. And then its all over, and its a relief, even though I always wish I had studied harder, edited more and showed up to class on time. But after fully 30 MINUTES of relief, I get depressed. I hate ending things. Even hard things like game theory. And how am I supposed to enjoy Spring Break when it is THE LAST SPRING BREAK OF MY LIFE!!! Where has my life gone??? I am only 19. That's the same age as some COLLEGE FRESHMAN!!!! Who decided that I should have to graduate and lose all my friends and move away to who knows where and be lonely and stressed out this early in my life? Oh, wait that was me at 16 deciding to FUCKING GO TO COLLEGE! I can't just leave my UW bubble this early? I'm not mature enough for this. [insert mom from the Parent Trap voice right there]
I am SO concerned.
I like college.
It's not fair.
What will I do with my life....as in like NEXT YEAR!!! Don't lie, I know I won't be able to be BFF with my friends who are friends right now. It doesn't work like that when you are NOT IN THE SAME COUNTRY AS THEM! And, yes, I'm excited about the prospect of going to South Africa and braving the risk of getting raped by a random person who has a 1 in 4 chance of having AIDS and higher considering the people who are rapists probably are more likely to have contracted HIV during their sexploits. But, I'm excited for the future me to do that one day. As in one day when I'm at least 21 years old, maybe. And maybe I will just curl up in my lovely Pink House that other people are trying to rent for next year. BOO!!! You won't throw as good parties as us, just because you are getting a good party house. Good parties will LEAVE as soon as I leave this University.
And what if I don't get into an excellent law school. I can't HANDLE mediocrity.
God help me. I think I am destined for sadness, disappointment, and everything in the end of the middle of a Jane Austen novel. Except that I won't have a happy ending that ends in love because NOBODY LOVES ME THAT I AM INTERESTED IN BECAUSE I AM A DORK AND MY LIFE IS ENDING WHEN I LEAVE COLLEGE, BECAUSE WHAT IS THERE LEFT TO DO????? I don't know!!! I need a plan. And you know what?! Joshua Johnson does NOT count as a plan. That is some off limits shit that we are not even going to go into right now. We never can again, actually, because Olive was the only one who ever understood that clusterfuck of a 6-year shenangigan. What am I going to do?
Apparently I'm destined for motherhood, because I'm a Cancer...but wait, you need a FUCKING PARTNER for that (pun intended, bitches). WhatEVER.
What is happening in my life???? Damn it. Why are all my friends gone for Spring Break already or still in finals. I need hardcore distraction. March Madness would suffice, except for the fact that the Huskies didn't even make it into the NCAA tournament on the bubble. My life has become so meaningless.
Hmmm. Duke is on. But I don't even like watching theeeem anymore because they're not fun to hate since JJ "panties in a permanent knot" Reddick isn't there to whine and drain 3's anymore.
Oh fabulous. UCLA is on and it might all work out. I can be bohemian next year, right? Pac-10 represent. THis East Coast bias is bullshit, and I feel like this is our year to prove ourselves even if the Huskies won't have our chance at the Final Four.
"Ending a relationship with a Cancer is like giving up your baby for adoption."
...I'm not talking about boy/girl-relationships, but everything from friendships to my relationship with game theory.
I hate endings so much. I never understand it. I look forward to the end of the quarter so much because I get so overloaded, especially when I work plus take 20 credits, that I would decombust if it dragged on too long. And then its all over, and its a relief, even though I always wish I had studied harder, edited more and showed up to class on time. But after fully 30 MINUTES of relief, I get depressed. I hate ending things. Even hard things like game theory. And how am I supposed to enjoy Spring Break when it is THE LAST SPRING BREAK OF MY LIFE!!! Where has my life gone??? I am only 19. That's the same age as some COLLEGE FRESHMAN!!!! Who decided that I should have to graduate and lose all my friends and move away to who knows where and be lonely and stressed out this early in my life? Oh, wait that was me at 16 deciding to FUCKING GO TO COLLEGE! I can't just leave my UW bubble this early? I'm not mature enough for this. [insert mom from the Parent Trap voice right there]
I am SO concerned.
I like college.
It's not fair.
What will I do with my life....as in like NEXT YEAR!!! Don't lie, I know I won't be able to be BFF with my friends who are friends right now. It doesn't work like that when you are NOT IN THE SAME COUNTRY AS THEM! And, yes, I'm excited about the prospect of going to South Africa and braving the risk of getting raped by a random person who has a 1 in 4 chance of having AIDS and higher considering the people who are rapists probably are more likely to have contracted HIV during their sexploits. But, I'm excited for the future me to do that one day. As in one day when I'm at least 21 years old, maybe. And maybe I will just curl up in my lovely Pink House that other people are trying to rent for next year. BOO!!! You won't throw as good parties as us, just because you are getting a good party house. Good parties will LEAVE as soon as I leave this University.
And what if I don't get into an excellent law school. I can't HANDLE mediocrity.
God help me. I think I am destined for sadness, disappointment, and everything in the end of the middle of a Jane Austen novel. Except that I won't have a happy ending that ends in love because NOBODY LOVES ME THAT I AM INTERESTED IN BECAUSE I AM A DORK AND MY LIFE IS ENDING WHEN I LEAVE COLLEGE, BECAUSE WHAT IS THERE LEFT TO DO????? I don't know!!! I need a plan. And you know what?! Joshua Johnson does NOT count as a plan. That is some off limits shit that we are not even going to go into right now. We never can again, actually, because Olive was the only one who ever understood that clusterfuck of a 6-year shenangigan. What am I going to do?
Apparently I'm destined for motherhood, because I'm a Cancer...but wait, you need a FUCKING PARTNER for that (pun intended, bitches). WhatEVER.
What is happening in my life???? Damn it. Why are all my friends gone for Spring Break already or still in finals. I need hardcore distraction. March Madness would suffice, except for the fact that the Huskies didn't even make it into the NCAA tournament on the bubble. My life has become so meaningless.
Hmmm. Duke is on. But I don't even like watching theeeem anymore because they're not fun to hate since JJ "panties in a permanent knot" Reddick isn't there to whine and drain 3's anymore.
Oh fabulous. UCLA is on and it might all work out. I can be bohemian next year, right? Pac-10 represent. THis East Coast bias is bullshit, and I feel like this is our year to prove ourselves even if the Huskies won't have our chance at the Final Four.
"Ending a relationship with a Cancer is like giving up your baby for adoption."
...I'm not talking about boy/girl-relationships, but everything from friendships to my relationship with game theory.
Courtesy of Mitch, the Aquarius.
Word of the week: intractable.
"Can't a guy smell some thongs now and then?!"
-the indignant B-hawk, who was indeed smelling Samantha's underwear that she left in the dryer. At least they were clean, right?
"Can't a guy smell some thongs now and then?!"
-the indignant B-hawk, who was indeed smelling Samantha's underwear that she left in the dryer. At least they were clean, right?
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Fuck the South
I hate being underage I hate being underage I hate being underage.
I can hardly handle it when I'm in the house all alone. Especially when just a little bit ago there were people swarming all around. And then they ALL disappear to do 21-ish things. I think they do feel somewhat bad for me. B-Hwk was trying to talk with me about how he missed J-Mu's cabin too. And the Jewish one was rubbing my head. I was feeling particularly weird because I took a renegade nap at 8 o'clock and at 9:30 I woke up from a scary nightmare involving my father and the ASUW President who convinced me that this little floor vaccuum cleaner robot was trying to get me. Sounds dumb, but it was quite scary and I'm upset that I had to be alone in our huge house after going through that.
Luckily, though, exactly an hour and a half later, when I had resorted to watching Phil of the Future to cover up my sad/scared mood, EVERYone burst back into the house. Mitch and I wrote passive aggressive notes to put on the thermostat about people constantly turning down the heat, and the Jewish one complained about how Mitch farting recently has completely ruined the idea of girls as sex objects for him. Mitch actually got all riled up and was like "that is SO ignorant!" It was amusing.
It's too bad that I suck at life, cannot study, and will fail my game theory final on Thursday.
Also disappointing is that Hillary Clinton apparently campaigned for Barry Goldwater back in the day. I hope that it was in the 70's or something like that and she was HIGH. That would make it not as bad.
T minus 3 days, and I will be in THE SOUTH!!!!!!
"Fuck the South. Fuck 'em. We should have let them go when they wanted to leave. But no, we had to kill half a million people so they'd stay part of our special Union. Fighting for the right to keep slaves - yeah, those are states we want to keep.
And now what do we get? We're the fucking Arrogant Northeast Liberal Elite? How about this for arrogant: the South is the Real America? The Authentic America. Really?
Cause we fucking founded this country, assholes. Those Founding Fathers you keep going on and on about? All that bullshit about what you think they meant by the Second Amendment giving you the right to keep your assault weapons in the glove compartment because you didn't bother to read the first half of the fucking sentence? Who do you think those wig-wearing lacy-shirt sporting revolutionaries were? They were fucking blue-staters, dickhead. Boston? Philadelphia? New York? Hello? Think there might be a reason all the fucking monuments are up here in our backyard?
No, No. Get the fuck out. We're not letting you visit the Liberty Bell and fucking Plymouth Rock anymore until you get over your real American selves and start respecting those other nine amendments. Who do you think those fucking stripes on the flag are for? Nine are for fucking blue states. And it would be 10 if those Vermonters had gotten their fucking Subarus together and broken off from New York a little earlier. Get it? We started this shit, so don't get all uppity about how real you are you Johnny-come-lately "Oooooh I've been a state for almost a hundred years" dickheads. Fuck off.
Arrogant? You wanna talk about us Northeasterners being fucking arrogant? What's more American than arrogance? Hmmm? Maybe horsies? I don't think so. Arrogance is the fucking cornerstone of what it means to be American. And I wouldn't be so fucking arrogant if I wasn't paying for your fucking bridges, bitch.
All those Federal taxes you love to hate? It all comes from us and goes to you, so shut up and enjoy your fucking Tennessee Valley Authority electricity and your fancy highways that we paid for. And the next time Florida gets hit by a hurricane you can come crying to us if you want to, but you're the ones who built on a fucking swamp. "Let the Spanish keep it, it’s a shithole," we said, but you had to have your fucking orange juice.
The next dickwad who says, "It’s your money, not the government's money" is gonna get their ass kicked. Nine of the ten states that get the most federal fucking dollars and pay the least... can you guess? Go on, guess. That’s right, motherfucker, they're red states. And eight of the ten states that receive the least and pay the most? It’s too easy, asshole, they’re blue states. It’s not your money, assholes, it’s fucking our money. What was that Real American Value you were spouting a minute ago? Self reliance? Try this for self reliance: buy your own fucking stop signs, assholes.
Let’s talk about those values for a fucking minute. You and your Southern values can bite my ass because the blue states got the values over you fucking Real Americans every day of the goddamn week. Which state do you think has the lowest divorce rate you marriage-hyping dickwads? Well? Can you guess? It’s fucking Massachusetts, the fucking center of the gay marriage universe. Yes, that’s right, the state you love to tie around the neck of anyone to the left of Strom Thurmond has the lowest divorce rate in the fucking nation. Think that’s just some aberration? How about this: 9 of the 10 lowest divorce rates are fucking blue states, asshole, and most are in the Northeast, where our values suck so bad. And where are the highest divorce rates? Care to fucking guess? 10 of the top 10 are fucking red-ass we're-so-fucking-moral states. And while Nevada is the worst, the Bible Belt is doing its fucking part.
But two guys making out is going to fucking ruin marriage for you? Yeah? Seems like you're ruining it pretty well on your own, you little bastards. Oh, but that's ok because you go to church, right? I mean you do, right? Cause we fucking get to hear about it every goddamn year at election time. Yes, we're fascinated by how you get up every Sunday morning and sing, and then you're fucking towers of moral superiority. Yeah, that's a workable formula. Maybe us fucking Northerners don't talk about religion as much as you because we're not so busy sinning, hmmm? Ever think of that, you self-righteous assholes? No, you're too busy erecting giant stone tablets of the Ten Commandments in buildings paid for by the fucking Northeast Liberal Elite. And who has the highest murder rates in the nation? It ain't us up here in the North, assholes.
Well this gravy train is fucking over. Take your liberal-bashing, federal-tax-leaching, confederate-flag-waving, holier-than-thou, hypocritical bullshit and shove it up your ass.
And no, you can't have your fucking convention in New York next time. Fuck off."
-FucktheSouth.com
Some of the most beautiful prose I have ever read in my life. I wish this person would become the liberal version of Ann Coulter so that Democrats could represent with a fucking backbone....except our version wouldn't be such an evil Soulless bitch.
I can hardly handle it when I'm in the house all alone. Especially when just a little bit ago there were people swarming all around. And then they ALL disappear to do 21-ish things. I think they do feel somewhat bad for me. B-Hwk was trying to talk with me about how he missed J-Mu's cabin too. And the Jewish one was rubbing my head. I was feeling particularly weird because I took a renegade nap at 8 o'clock and at 9:30 I woke up from a scary nightmare involving my father and the ASUW President who convinced me that this little floor vaccuum cleaner robot was trying to get me. Sounds dumb, but it was quite scary and I'm upset that I had to be alone in our huge house after going through that.
Luckily, though, exactly an hour and a half later, when I had resorted to watching Phil of the Future to cover up my sad/scared mood, EVERYone burst back into the house. Mitch and I wrote passive aggressive notes to put on the thermostat about people constantly turning down the heat, and the Jewish one complained about how Mitch farting recently has completely ruined the idea of girls as sex objects for him. Mitch actually got all riled up and was like "that is SO ignorant!" It was amusing.
It's too bad that I suck at life, cannot study, and will fail my game theory final on Thursday.
Also disappointing is that Hillary Clinton apparently campaigned for Barry Goldwater back in the day. I hope that it was in the 70's or something like that and she was HIGH. That would make it not as bad.
T minus 3 days, and I will be in THE SOUTH!!!!!!
"Fuck the South. Fuck 'em. We should have let them go when they wanted to leave. But no, we had to kill half a million people so they'd stay part of our special Union. Fighting for the right to keep slaves - yeah, those are states we want to keep.
And now what do we get? We're the fucking Arrogant Northeast Liberal Elite? How about this for arrogant: the South is the Real America? The Authentic America. Really?
Cause we fucking founded this country, assholes. Those Founding Fathers you keep going on and on about? All that bullshit about what you think they meant by the Second Amendment giving you the right to keep your assault weapons in the glove compartment because you didn't bother to read the first half of the fucking sentence? Who do you think those wig-wearing lacy-shirt sporting revolutionaries were? They were fucking blue-staters, dickhead. Boston? Philadelphia? New York? Hello? Think there might be a reason all the fucking monuments are up here in our backyard?
No, No. Get the fuck out. We're not letting you visit the Liberty Bell and fucking Plymouth Rock anymore until you get over your real American selves and start respecting those other nine amendments. Who do you think those fucking stripes on the flag are for? Nine are for fucking blue states. And it would be 10 if those Vermonters had gotten their fucking Subarus together and broken off from New York a little earlier. Get it? We started this shit, so don't get all uppity about how real you are you Johnny-come-lately "Oooooh I've been a state for almost a hundred years" dickheads. Fuck off.
Arrogant? You wanna talk about us Northeasterners being fucking arrogant? What's more American than arrogance? Hmmm? Maybe horsies? I don't think so. Arrogance is the fucking cornerstone of what it means to be American. And I wouldn't be so fucking arrogant if I wasn't paying for your fucking bridges, bitch.
All those Federal taxes you love to hate? It all comes from us and goes to you, so shut up and enjoy your fucking Tennessee Valley Authority electricity and your fancy highways that we paid for. And the next time Florida gets hit by a hurricane you can come crying to us if you want to, but you're the ones who built on a fucking swamp. "Let the Spanish keep it, it’s a shithole," we said, but you had to have your fucking orange juice.
The next dickwad who says, "It’s your money, not the government's money" is gonna get their ass kicked. Nine of the ten states that get the most federal fucking dollars and pay the least... can you guess? Go on, guess. That’s right, motherfucker, they're red states. And eight of the ten states that receive the least and pay the most? It’s too easy, asshole, they’re blue states. It’s not your money, assholes, it’s fucking our money. What was that Real American Value you were spouting a minute ago? Self reliance? Try this for self reliance: buy your own fucking stop signs, assholes.
Let’s talk about those values for a fucking minute. You and your Southern values can bite my ass because the blue states got the values over you fucking Real Americans every day of the goddamn week. Which state do you think has the lowest divorce rate you marriage-hyping dickwads? Well? Can you guess? It’s fucking Massachusetts, the fucking center of the gay marriage universe. Yes, that’s right, the state you love to tie around the neck of anyone to the left of Strom Thurmond has the lowest divorce rate in the fucking nation. Think that’s just some aberration? How about this: 9 of the 10 lowest divorce rates are fucking blue states, asshole, and most are in the Northeast, where our values suck so bad. And where are the highest divorce rates? Care to fucking guess? 10 of the top 10 are fucking red-ass we're-so-fucking-moral states. And while Nevada is the worst, the Bible Belt is doing its fucking part.
But two guys making out is going to fucking ruin marriage for you? Yeah? Seems like you're ruining it pretty well on your own, you little bastards. Oh, but that's ok because you go to church, right? I mean you do, right? Cause we fucking get to hear about it every goddamn year at election time. Yes, we're fascinated by how you get up every Sunday morning and sing, and then you're fucking towers of moral superiority. Yeah, that's a workable formula. Maybe us fucking Northerners don't talk about religion as much as you because we're not so busy sinning, hmmm? Ever think of that, you self-righteous assholes? No, you're too busy erecting giant stone tablets of the Ten Commandments in buildings paid for by the fucking Northeast Liberal Elite. And who has the highest murder rates in the nation? It ain't us up here in the North, assholes.
Well this gravy train is fucking over. Take your liberal-bashing, federal-tax-leaching, confederate-flag-waving, holier-than-thou, hypocritical bullshit and shove it up your ass.
And no, you can't have your fucking convention in New York next time. Fuck off."
-FucktheSouth.com
Some of the most beautiful prose I have ever read in my life. I wish this person would become the liberal version of Ann Coulter so that Democrats could represent with a fucking backbone....except our version wouldn't be such an evil Soulless bitch.
1. You chew your gum too vigorously
What? Study game theory...for the biggest final of your life?
No, thank you.
Oh, watch 10 Things I Hate About You and eat pizza and drink Mike's Hard Lemonade?
Yes, pleeease.
"Chastity: I know you can be under whelmed, and you can be overwhelmed, but can you ever just be, like, whelmed?
Bianca: I think you can in Europe. "
-10 Things
That is like me and the word ness. Well, the word-ending ness.
No, thank you.
Oh, watch 10 Things I Hate About You and eat pizza and drink Mike's Hard Lemonade?
Yes, pleeease.
"Chastity: I know you can be under whelmed, and you can be overwhelmed, but can you ever just be, like, whelmed?
Bianca: I think you can in Europe. "
-10 Things
That is like me and the word ness. Well, the word-ending ness.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Put the Lime in the Coconut
The ebola seems to be leaving my system, and I am entirely grateful.
My parents are really dolls. Today they ordered me Chinese food from Baltimore. (That's where they were, not where the food was from.) I hope that if I ever have kids, I will be as nice to them as my parents are to me. Except if I ever get angry at them when they're little, I hope that I don't twist their ears, because that hurts like hell.
I finished my China paper, which I am quite pleased about. 7 pages single-spaced, bitches. Except tomorrow I have to edit 1.5 of those pages completely away. Hmmm. C'est la vie. It wasn't even that painful to write, because I interspersed it with movies. The last Lord of the Rings (extended version, no less), the end of Mission Impossible II, and a History Channel segment on Jonestown. Lord of the Rings made me sad....watch the very end and tell me that you don't feel like crying. They're finally safe, but they can never go back to the lives they used to have, and any life they do have now will feel empty because they have no purpose in life like they used to. Watching the Jonestown bit with B-Hawk was also interesting. It reminded me of how that kid has broken every blender he's ever touched. I remember last year he was making some mixed drink at a polisci party and all of a sudden he's there with his finger on the go button and the thing starts smoking, and he doesn't even stop. And this year as soon as he moved in he broke Samantha's blender. I decided that all curses aside, our house needs a blender, and I am going to bring one back from Spring Break. I am sure that I can convince my parents that a blender would be a positive thing to invest in for me. And B-Hawk will not be able to touch it. I don't know how that relates to Jonestown....maybe the connection between cyanide laced kool-aid and mixed drinks.
If I had a blender I would eat nothing but smoothies. And my leftover Chinese food.
"Phoebe is the kind of girl that I want to marry."
-This is the statement that made me smoke my first and only cigarette. The smoking plan backfired, but everything was okay in the end anyway.
My parents are really dolls. Today they ordered me Chinese food from Baltimore. (That's where they were, not where the food was from.) I hope that if I ever have kids, I will be as nice to them as my parents are to me. Except if I ever get angry at them when they're little, I hope that I don't twist their ears, because that hurts like hell.
I finished my China paper, which I am quite pleased about. 7 pages single-spaced, bitches. Except tomorrow I have to edit 1.5 of those pages completely away. Hmmm. C'est la vie. It wasn't even that painful to write, because I interspersed it with movies. The last Lord of the Rings (extended version, no less), the end of Mission Impossible II, and a History Channel segment on Jonestown. Lord of the Rings made me sad....watch the very end and tell me that you don't feel like crying. They're finally safe, but they can never go back to the lives they used to have, and any life they do have now will feel empty because they have no purpose in life like they used to. Watching the Jonestown bit with B-Hawk was also interesting. It reminded me of how that kid has broken every blender he's ever touched. I remember last year he was making some mixed drink at a polisci party and all of a sudden he's there with his finger on the go button and the thing starts smoking, and he doesn't even stop. And this year as soon as he moved in he broke Samantha's blender. I decided that all curses aside, our house needs a blender, and I am going to bring one back from Spring Break. I am sure that I can convince my parents that a blender would be a positive thing to invest in for me. And B-Hawk will not be able to touch it. I don't know how that relates to Jonestown....maybe the connection between cyanide laced kool-aid and mixed drinks.
If I had a blender I would eat nothing but smoothies. And my leftover Chinese food.
"Phoebe is the kind of girl that I want to marry."
-This is the statement that made me smoke my first and only cigarette. The smoking plan backfired, but everything was okay in the end anyway.
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