Elephant Juice.
Okay, guys, seriously, don't let me listen to "The End of the World" by Skeeter Davis. Seriously. It's so true it's eerie...but I like it so much, even though it is country.
So, welcome to my Sunday morning, even though it says it's still Saturday in Blog World. It's bleak and grim. I'm ever so tired.
Goodness me, I just remembered something. How depressing. I think we shall have to have a song, don't you?
Everytime It Rains-Ace of Base
I see dark clouds out my window
I know the storm is coming any minute
And the thunder just confirms my fears
And I know that tears are in there
I'll be crying unable to stop
Look here comes the very first drop
'Cause everytime it rains
I fall to pieces
So many memories the rain releases
I feel you
I taste you
I cannot forget
Everytime it rains
I get wet
Darlin' I am still in love with you
As time passes by it just intensifies
I know I'll never be with you again
I'll never find another with that kindness in his eyes
I'll be trying unable to stop
Look here comes the very first drop
'Cause everytime it rains
I fall to pieces
So many memories the rain releases
I feel you
I taste you
I cannot forget
Everytime it rains
I get wet
On sunny days I'm alright
I walk in the light
And I try not to think about
The love I live without
'Cause everytime it rains
I fall to pieces
So many memories the rain releases
I feel you
I taste you
I cannot forget
Everytime it rains
I get wet
'Cause everytime it rains
I fall to pieces
So many memories the rain releases
I feel you
I taste you
I cannot forget
Everytime it rains
I get wet
'Cause everytime it rains
I fall to pieces
So many memories the rain releases
I feel you
I taste you
I cannot forget
Everytime it rains
I get wet
There, wasn't that lovely? Yes. Yes it was. Notice I didn't put up the Skeeter Davis song. It's embarrassing.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
Donatello is the hottest of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Well...I think so.
Hmmm...don't you hate it when a really mean, nasty, terrible thought enters your brain, and a part of you wants to act upon it? The demons we all harvest within try, for a brief moment, to escape. I'm trying to keep mine contained. I truly am.
Well...I think so.
Hmmm...don't you hate it when a really mean, nasty, terrible thought enters your brain, and a part of you wants to act upon it? The demons we all harvest within try, for a brief moment, to escape. I'm trying to keep mine contained. I truly am.
And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace.
Ow...who thought shopping would hurt?
Hooray for cayuute socks. And sports gear.
You know what I'm not looking forward to? School. I really dread it. Not the school work itself. That I enjoy. Other stuff. Every other thing. But that's about it.
I looked at the moon tonight. The big yellow harvest moon, low on the horizon. It was big and sad.
Ow...who thought shopping would hurt?
Hooray for cayuute socks. And sports gear.
You know what I'm not looking forward to? School. I really dread it. Not the school work itself. That I enjoy. Other stuff. Every other thing. But that's about it.
I looked at the moon tonight. The big yellow harvest moon, low on the horizon. It was big and sad.
When I see you now, I wonder how...
Oh, Amanda Marshall, you talented person you.
Anyway, Happy 42nd Birthday to my dad. Love you. Can't find your present.
What else is there to say? Not an awful lot really. I'm working on some poetry, as Artist's Block has stopped in for a visit. I haven't puked-yet-and I hope it remains that way for the rest of the day. I feel much better now that I have showered and washed my face and hair. According to my mother it's "excrutiatingly long" now. So she's probably going to find a reason to get mad at me and French braid the crap outta me. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.
Oh, Amanda Marshall, you talented person you.
Anyway, Happy 42nd Birthday to my dad. Love you. Can't find your present.
What else is there to say? Not an awful lot really. I'm working on some poetry, as Artist's Block has stopped in for a visit. I haven't puked-yet-and I hope it remains that way for the rest of the day. I feel much better now that I have showered and washed my face and hair. According to my mother it's "excrutiatingly long" now. So she's probably going to find a reason to get mad at me and French braid the crap outta me. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Sending gummi bears to an acidic grave.
Hmmmm.
Okay, I'm officially annoyed, now. I thought something today, and I got mad at myself. Then I stopped, and said "You know what, I'm not mad for thinking that. I fully believe it to be true, and screw anyone who says I'm being mean. I've had enough of being nice." And a part of me wants to act on this thought, but violence never solved anything, did it? Still...
Hmmmm.
Okay, I'm officially annoyed, now. I thought something today, and I got mad at myself. Then I stopped, and said "You know what, I'm not mad for thinking that. I fully believe it to be true, and screw anyone who says I'm being mean. I've had enough of being nice." And a part of me wants to act on this thought, but violence never solved anything, did it? Still...
I don't remember eating brocolli...
I'm kinda into titles now.
Anyway, yeah, I'm sick. God, I don't know why you hate me, but please leave me alone. It was weird. I got off the bus and began walking home, feeling ever more queasy. I felt dizzy and stopped, threw my head back, and looked at the sky. It was so blue. Amazingly blue. It made me cry. Then I doubled over and threw up on someone's lawn. I don't really remember what happened then, but when I sort of snapped out of my delerium, I was lying in the snow on the lawn, and a middle-aged man was there. He asked me where I lived and I just sort of pointed. He helped me up, gave me his coat, picked up my stuff and walked me home. And when I say walked, I mean he dragged me, because I kept stumbling and tripping. When I was at the door he made sure I was awake enough to unlock the door and turn off the alarm. I thanked him via mumbling and gave him back his coat. I then went upstairs and brushed my teeth.
So that was almost nice. Not the puking bit, the "Oh my God, a complete stranger gave a rats ass about me, and after I threw up on his lawn." bit. I shall have to make him a gift basket.
I'm kinda into titles now.
Anyway, yeah, I'm sick. God, I don't know why you hate me, but please leave me alone. It was weird. I got off the bus and began walking home, feeling ever more queasy. I felt dizzy and stopped, threw my head back, and looked at the sky. It was so blue. Amazingly blue. It made me cry. Then I doubled over and threw up on someone's lawn. I don't really remember what happened then, but when I sort of snapped out of my delerium, I was lying in the snow on the lawn, and a middle-aged man was there. He asked me where I lived and I just sort of pointed. He helped me up, gave me his coat, picked up my stuff and walked me home. And when I say walked, I mean he dragged me, because I kept stumbling and tripping. When I was at the door he made sure I was awake enough to unlock the door and turn off the alarm. I thanked him via mumbling and gave him back his coat. I then went upstairs and brushed my teeth.
So that was almost nice. Not the puking bit, the "Oh my God, a complete stranger gave a rats ass about me, and after I threw up on his lawn." bit. I shall have to make him a gift basket.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
This isn't fair.
Well, it's early morning, and look who's awake. I can't sleep. I have wonderful dreams that leave me pissed off upon my awakening. And Willem Dafoe is on the Daily Show.
All my thoughts are ended now. I know it will never happen.
And now, to crawl into a ball on the couch and watch the Daily Show.
Well, it's early morning, and look who's awake. I can't sleep. I have wonderful dreams that leave me pissed off upon my awakening. And Willem Dafoe is on the Daily Show.
All my thoughts are ended now. I know it will never happen.
And now, to crawl into a ball on the couch and watch the Daily Show.
Haha...Survivor. Wow, Sue went totally wild. I dunno, I'm not saying Richard didn't do-whatever he did-but yeah...wow Sue...Anyway, Survivor makes me feel better.
And Donald Trump needs a better hair cut. All that money has blinded him to his hideous appearance. Although I'm sure he could totally kill me, but there is one thing he can't take away from me; the fact that my hair doesn't look like a rodent died on my head...most of the time.
And Donald Trump needs a better hair cut. All that money has blinded him to his hideous appearance. Although I'm sure he could totally kill me, but there is one thing he can't take away from me; the fact that my hair doesn't look like a rodent died on my head...most of the time.
Well. I'm back. Did you miss me? I doubt it. But I'm back, nonetheless. And, due to the horrid squallid condition the Pit is in, almost everyone, including me, is sick. I swear, the school is just a festering cess pool of germs. But so much learning to be had!
I'm glad Anthony liked the cookies. I really am. I was so worried that they wouldn't be very good. All my doubts were lain to rest when he told me he wanted to marry me and enslave me into baking for him. A back-handed compliment, but a compliment indeed.
So apart from being in a world of pain, all different kinds, I'm good. I hope you are all good too. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Neo-Citran to microwave. Holy crap, I hate this things.
I'm glad Anthony liked the cookies. I really am. I was so worried that they wouldn't be very good. All my doubts were lain to rest when he told me he wanted to marry me and enslave me into baking for him. A back-handed compliment, but a compliment indeed.
So apart from being in a world of pain, all different kinds, I'm good. I hope you are all good too. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Neo-Citran to microwave. Holy crap, I hate this things.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Whatever happened to Katie?
Substitute teacher for Monday and Tuesday in choral. The one for yesterday-Monday-was a total bitch. Anyway, she called my name on the attendance. "Katie?"
I pause. I don't usually hear that name in school. The only other teacher who calls me Katie is the art teacher, and I don't mind it from him. But she said my name, and there was a silence. Everyone's face assumed the "Who?" expression, and I answered that I was present. I didn't bother to tell her I'm called Kat, because it wasn't worth it. Sarah, a fairly nice person, said "Your name is Katie?"
"It's Katherine," I said.
"Katie?" she repeated.
"Yeah," I said. "Katie." The word sounded funny. Foreign.
"It doesn't suit you," Sarah smiled at me. "You're not a Katie."
I kind of shrugged, but inside, I was quite troubled. My whole life I've been Katie. Maybe not at school, but in my family. And Katie looks like such a cute word. I see the old photo of me at age six, decked out in pink with crooked teeth and purple framed glasses askew on my nose, and shiny blonde hair in two plaits. Yeah, that's Katie.
It hurt me that Sarah said I wasn't a Katie. I mean, she didn't do it intentionally, but still...I've had a lot of names, and I am everyone of them. Katie, Kat, Kate, Kathy, Katherine Chocolate Eclaire...there was one Spanish girl in fifth grade who called my Kitty or Kit, because she couldn't quite say Katie, and the Italian lunch-lady, Angie, called me Katarina.
Katherine means pure, as do all versions of it. Right now, I'm Kat, and for the most part, I like Kat. Who will I be in ten years? Katherine? Who knows? But I still have to wonder, what happened to Katie...
Substitute teacher for Monday and Tuesday in choral. The one for yesterday-Monday-was a total bitch. Anyway, she called my name on the attendance. "Katie?"
I pause. I don't usually hear that name in school. The only other teacher who calls me Katie is the art teacher, and I don't mind it from him. But she said my name, and there was a silence. Everyone's face assumed the "Who?" expression, and I answered that I was present. I didn't bother to tell her I'm called Kat, because it wasn't worth it. Sarah, a fairly nice person, said "Your name is Katie?"
"It's Katherine," I said.
"Katie?" she repeated.
"Yeah," I said. "Katie." The word sounded funny. Foreign.
"It doesn't suit you," Sarah smiled at me. "You're not a Katie."
I kind of shrugged, but inside, I was quite troubled. My whole life I've been Katie. Maybe not at school, but in my family. And Katie looks like such a cute word. I see the old photo of me at age six, decked out in pink with crooked teeth and purple framed glasses askew on my nose, and shiny blonde hair in two plaits. Yeah, that's Katie.
It hurt me that Sarah said I wasn't a Katie. I mean, she didn't do it intentionally, but still...I've had a lot of names, and I am everyone of them. Katie, Kat, Kate, Kathy, Katherine Chocolate Eclaire...there was one Spanish girl in fifth grade who called my Kitty or Kit, because she couldn't quite say Katie, and the Italian lunch-lady, Angie, called me Katarina.
Katherine means pure, as do all versions of it. Right now, I'm Kat, and for the most part, I like Kat. Who will I be in ten years? Katherine? Who knows? But I still have to wonder, what happened to Katie...
Monday, March 01, 2004
Welcome, weary traveller, to my Monday.
It started off pretty lousy. Mornings are never pleasant. The day went on, as any other day would, and it wasn't as horrible as I had aniticipated. I mean, it wasn't super happy, but it wasn't "Oh my God I'm going to blow up the school!" either. Which is what I'm usually thinking. Oh well. At the end of the day I got splashed with dirty puddle muck, all over my lovely new shoes. So that wasn't so good. But then I came home, tidied my room, and played with Wysteria, the My Little Pony.
I looked at the picture on my wall. It was weird. It looks almost real in the soft light from my lamp. I was so tired. I took off my cardigan and skirt, snuggled down under the blanket, and stared vacantly at the wall. I don't know what to draw. I want to draw something.
But back to the long and trying school day. I handed in my half-assed newspaper project, and it actually might get a decent mark. I got 100% on my art project, but the horn came off of my unicorn, so I had to file it down and just make it a horse with purple and grey hair. I'm going to make a new horn for it, but I have other things to do right now.
Tomorrow I am going to my Dad's, getting drunk, and making cookies. Yeah, you all think I'm drinking to "escape from my problems". Well I'm not. Normally, yes, but I have discovered the secret to making me a master chef: booze. And by master chef, I mean I can make sugar cookies. But they are really good. By my standards. And such adorable cookie cutters. The only bad thing about going to my Dad's is that I have to pack, and I hate lugging my stuff around on the bus.
So I hope you are all in good health and happiness. If not, well...welcome to the club! We have free cookies!
It started off pretty lousy. Mornings are never pleasant. The day went on, as any other day would, and it wasn't as horrible as I had aniticipated. I mean, it wasn't super happy, but it wasn't "Oh my God I'm going to blow up the school!" either. Which is what I'm usually thinking. Oh well. At the end of the day I got splashed with dirty puddle muck, all over my lovely new shoes. So that wasn't so good. But then I came home, tidied my room, and played with Wysteria, the My Little Pony.
I looked at the picture on my wall. It was weird. It looks almost real in the soft light from my lamp. I was so tired. I took off my cardigan and skirt, snuggled down under the blanket, and stared vacantly at the wall. I don't know what to draw. I want to draw something.
But back to the long and trying school day. I handed in my half-assed newspaper project, and it actually might get a decent mark. I got 100% on my art project, but the horn came off of my unicorn, so I had to file it down and just make it a horse with purple and grey hair. I'm going to make a new horn for it, but I have other things to do right now.
Tomorrow I am going to my Dad's, getting drunk, and making cookies. Yeah, you all think I'm drinking to "escape from my problems". Well I'm not. Normally, yes, but I have discovered the secret to making me a master chef: booze. And by master chef, I mean I can make sugar cookies. But they are really good. By my standards. And such adorable cookie cutters. The only bad thing about going to my Dad's is that I have to pack, and I hate lugging my stuff around on the bus.
So I hope you are all in good health and happiness. If not, well...welcome to the club! We have free cookies!
Sunday, February 29, 2004
So this is my life. Huh.
I have started a pony collection. I bought a "My Little Pony" today. She is terribly cute. I hate her.
Didn't go to school on Friday, too damn lazy. I am so fucking C F S I A L it isn't even funny. I am such a bad mood. After a million fustrating tries, I finally drew the god damn jungle paradise. I used chalk, so the effect doesn't look quite right, but it was the lesser of several evils. Plus I still have a shit-load of social homework that I'm going to put off until midnight. You think I would learn, but I'm a dumb ass, so I will continue to make mistakes.
My sister and her friend have given up something for Lent. And they're betting on it. That actually made me laugh. "Meagan, you can't gamble on Lent. It's Lent! And if we did practice organized religion, we'd be Jewish!" I've been told to give up something for Lent. Well, I have news for my mother; I already have given up something, and it wasn't for Lent. Wow. The word Lent has lost all its petty meaning. How dumb.
I had a terrible dream last night. I was so glad when I woke up. But then I remembered my actual life. So I spent my early waking hours trying to decide which was better. My awful dream, or my awful life. I decided my awful life was better. I never want what happened in the dream to happen in reality, but it already is. I see it everyday. It's killing me.
So that was a total bummer about Anthony Knights party not working out. Oh well. I got him the best damn gift ever. And by "got him" I mean "am going to get him". Shall we have a song?
Okay. I was going to put a song up but I am too damn lazy and annoyed. Especially about that stupid drawing. Holy crap, there had better be a really good fucking explanation, or I'm ripping the damn thing up. I can't believe it. I have been destroying so much of my art work lately. I remember when I used to cry when people tore it up. It used to break my heart to see something I truly thought was beautiful, truly a part of me, mangled by idiots who laughed and joked. And now I am that idiot. I tear drawings up until they are no more than confetti and throw them into the trash or into the wind. I guess I don't have a heart to break anymore. But then again, I'm C F S I A L, aren't I? So not much bothers me anymore. Speaking of Cfsial, my little Pegasus makes for a great story-line subject. Yeah, that makes sense in my head.
I'm pretty much rambling right now. I suppose if you took the time to go back and read this you might be able to find hidden meaning and messages from the old Kat, hiding inside this new and nasty person I have become. Old Kat is dying to come out. Literally dying.
Watched Metropolis yesterday. So beautiful. One day, I'm going to create things like that...and no one will hate me and my work will be famous. Tima is just so sad and sweet. It's not a wonder it is my favourite movie. I'm a weird person. One minute I'm getting a tattoo and the next I'm buying toy ponies and simpering over sweet little anime girls with no one to love them. I also made sugar cookies on Friday night in anticipation for Anthony's party. You know what the weird thing is? I had two screwdrivers-the drink, not the hardware-and I actually cooked better. Sure, I was light-headed and giggly, but damn they were amazing cookies! And nothing bad happened while I was making them. Drinking with my old man is always jolly good fun. Mmm, delicious cookies. I shall simply have to make some more.
I'm sorry I'm not a nicer person. I've been really mean to some people over the past little while. I'm just tired. Even in my dreams I'm mean to people. I'm also sorry for this long ass blog. I guess I'm just typing because I have nothing better to do. That's a lie. I have a lot of stuff to do. Like homework. But homework means sitting in my room, and sitting in my room means listening to sad music, and sad music means I'm thinking about all the recent events, and thinking about recent events means me being suspicious, and suspicion means hating myself, and I already have that covered.
I'm going on a bit of a candy thing right now. I saw a show on candy yesterday, and it really made me fancy some gummi bears. So I bought them and some Smarties. Mmm so yummy. Whoever came up with Sundae Smarties was an absolute genius. As opposed to the person who came up with the Smarties Bar. Chocolate, coated in candy, coated in chocolate. The next inevitable phase is another layer of candy. So it will be a giant square Smartie with lots of little Smarties inside. And I think that is just silly.
I hope Johnny Depp wins an Oscar. I'm not watching them, I just hope he wins. I watched The Secret of NIMH the other day, and it reminded me of my childhood. Except it isn't really a childrens movie, what with all the animal torture and violence. Oh well. While watching a movie last night at my Dad's place, I got up to make some popcorn. And funnily enough it reminded me of something that happened a while ago. Something I had forgotten. I saw the something, and laughed out loud. A genuinely happy laugh, which I have not done in a long while. And I picked up the something, and carefully ran my fingers over it. Then I smiled softly, and held the something close to my heart. My dad came in and asked why I was hugging the something. Then I said "Oh, no reason." and I hugged it some more and proceeded to watch the movie.
Well, I should wrap this up. I'd just like to say something, but I cannot, because of C F S I A L. But I'll say it to myself. No one can hear what I say to myself except me. And I won't tell a soul.
I have started a pony collection. I bought a "My Little Pony" today. She is terribly cute. I hate her.
Didn't go to school on Friday, too damn lazy. I am so fucking C F S I A L it isn't even funny. I am such a bad mood. After a million fustrating tries, I finally drew the god damn jungle paradise. I used chalk, so the effect doesn't look quite right, but it was the lesser of several evils. Plus I still have a shit-load of social homework that I'm going to put off until midnight. You think I would learn, but I'm a dumb ass, so I will continue to make mistakes.
My sister and her friend have given up something for Lent. And they're betting on it. That actually made me laugh. "Meagan, you can't gamble on Lent. It's Lent! And if we did practice organized religion, we'd be Jewish!" I've been told to give up something for Lent. Well, I have news for my mother; I already have given up something, and it wasn't for Lent. Wow. The word Lent has lost all its petty meaning. How dumb.
I had a terrible dream last night. I was so glad when I woke up. But then I remembered my actual life. So I spent my early waking hours trying to decide which was better. My awful dream, or my awful life. I decided my awful life was better. I never want what happened in the dream to happen in reality, but it already is. I see it everyday. It's killing me.
So that was a total bummer about Anthony Knights party not working out. Oh well. I got him the best damn gift ever. And by "got him" I mean "am going to get him". Shall we have a song?
Okay. I was going to put a song up but I am too damn lazy and annoyed. Especially about that stupid drawing. Holy crap, there had better be a really good fucking explanation, or I'm ripping the damn thing up. I can't believe it. I have been destroying so much of my art work lately. I remember when I used to cry when people tore it up. It used to break my heart to see something I truly thought was beautiful, truly a part of me, mangled by idiots who laughed and joked. And now I am that idiot. I tear drawings up until they are no more than confetti and throw them into the trash or into the wind. I guess I don't have a heart to break anymore. But then again, I'm C F S I A L, aren't I? So not much bothers me anymore. Speaking of Cfsial, my little Pegasus makes for a great story-line subject. Yeah, that makes sense in my head.
I'm pretty much rambling right now. I suppose if you took the time to go back and read this you might be able to find hidden meaning and messages from the old Kat, hiding inside this new and nasty person I have become. Old Kat is dying to come out. Literally dying.
Watched Metropolis yesterday. So beautiful. One day, I'm going to create things like that...and no one will hate me and my work will be famous. Tima is just so sad and sweet. It's not a wonder it is my favourite movie. I'm a weird person. One minute I'm getting a tattoo and the next I'm buying toy ponies and simpering over sweet little anime girls with no one to love them. I also made sugar cookies on Friday night in anticipation for Anthony's party. You know what the weird thing is? I had two screwdrivers-the drink, not the hardware-and I actually cooked better. Sure, I was light-headed and giggly, but damn they were amazing cookies! And nothing bad happened while I was making them. Drinking with my old man is always jolly good fun. Mmm, delicious cookies. I shall simply have to make some more.
I'm sorry I'm not a nicer person. I've been really mean to some people over the past little while. I'm just tired. Even in my dreams I'm mean to people. I'm also sorry for this long ass blog. I guess I'm just typing because I have nothing better to do. That's a lie. I have a lot of stuff to do. Like homework. But homework means sitting in my room, and sitting in my room means listening to sad music, and sad music means I'm thinking about all the recent events, and thinking about recent events means me being suspicious, and suspicion means hating myself, and I already have that covered.
I'm going on a bit of a candy thing right now. I saw a show on candy yesterday, and it really made me fancy some gummi bears. So I bought them and some Smarties. Mmm so yummy. Whoever came up with Sundae Smarties was an absolute genius. As opposed to the person who came up with the Smarties Bar. Chocolate, coated in candy, coated in chocolate. The next inevitable phase is another layer of candy. So it will be a giant square Smartie with lots of little Smarties inside. And I think that is just silly.
I hope Johnny Depp wins an Oscar. I'm not watching them, I just hope he wins. I watched The Secret of NIMH the other day, and it reminded me of my childhood. Except it isn't really a childrens movie, what with all the animal torture and violence. Oh well. While watching a movie last night at my Dad's place, I got up to make some popcorn. And funnily enough it reminded me of something that happened a while ago. Something I had forgotten. I saw the something, and laughed out loud. A genuinely happy laugh, which I have not done in a long while. And I picked up the something, and carefully ran my fingers over it. Then I smiled softly, and held the something close to my heart. My dad came in and asked why I was hugging the something. Then I said "Oh, no reason." and I hugged it some more and proceeded to watch the movie.
Well, I should wrap this up. I'd just like to say something, but I cannot, because of C F S I A L. But I'll say it to myself. No one can hear what I say to myself except me. And I won't tell a soul.
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