Okay, this thing deserves an update before I pass out from over-exhaustion.

Art shrine is coming along perfectly. I just need to glue on some essential bits, drizzle a little bit of blood/red ink, smother with some sort of incense, and it'll be finished. In otherwords, I won't have to touch the lil bitch this weekend. The scratchboard assignment however... that might take a bit more time. Blech.

It's the second to last week of school. Therefore, time to cram in all the last minute projects. In other words, I forgot my final draft for my science fair paper. The sad thing is, without the 100 points for that assignment I'm still at a comfortable 95% in that class. Thankfully I have 109% at the moment.

Tomorrow consists of tests and reviews for finals next week. Ech.

Today was the last APC meeting... and someone spread the word throughout the school that we were having a party/DDR tourny. So, we had to kick out ten people from the room, and Robert insisted on playing the damned thing as much as possible. I had fun playing, but the room stank of feet because everyone took off their shoes to play.

Well, time to get to work on that paper.

. . . . . posted:||10:14 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Hmm... so here's how my day has been spent:

- Tried to start writing that song for English, but I couldn't find a melody/key/chord that suited my tastes. I wanted to do something like that Counting Crows song on the Cruel Intentions soundtrack, but it looks like that isn't happening.

- Worked on editing the color for the music video footage. Took me an hour or so to do all of the processing, and I feel asleep amidst it all. In otherwords, I left five people hanging on IM on accident. Oops.

- Semi-finished with the watercolor portion of my art project. El Gallo is looking less menacing than the photo I took. Still have to finish the resurrection card on the other side of the shrine, then it's off to Lowe's or Michaels to get a wood-burning pen for the Aztec imagery on the outsides of the box.

- In between the two projects, I saw several documentaries on the History channel. Mainly one on Lizzie Borden, but I saw the Elizabeth Bathory section of the Dracula one.

- Parents have been out most of the day bowling or shopping at Costco, etc. That means that grandma's getting cranky about no one eating the food she cooked. I'd have some, but I worry about food poisoning sometimes.

Surprisingly enough, I'm enjoying the higher resolution on my monitor at the moment. Sis still wants it at 600x800 though. Hrm.

Grandma had the phone for most of the day talking to relatives in Vegas and Cali so I couldn't talk to people like I had planned. Then again, I probably wouldn't work up the nerve to dial the numbers in the first place.

Time to get back to that damned music video.

(on a positive note: I got a perfect 150 on my research paper. Yes!)

. . . . . posted:||7:41 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
An unusual sleeping schedule has been... erm, keeping my activities to a low hum. In otherwords, sleeping from 3pm to 11pm, waking up, going back to bed at 2am, waking up at 5/6am. It's a wonder how I get any homework done.

Got yearbooks. I looked completely different than the shot they had of me in this year's. Hn.

I've joined the ranks of many other asians in the world. Yes, I have a copy of the DDR game and control pad and yes, I play it at least once a day. More or less the only exercise I get at all these days besides climbing stairs.

During Art we had two speakers from CineVegas (the budding film festival held here) talk to us about the student discount ($50 compared to the $300+ the general public pays) and the films that will be showing. Afterwards, I volunteered to direct them towards the theatre classes. Main reason: the assistant Justin looks like a sexier Eric H. He's a film major at UNLV, and quite possibly made my day had I not had a good day thus far.

Yes, I'm getting over my slump.

Went to see the StarWars movie tonight. Good movie, but it's all too obvious that Mr. Lucas can't write a believable romance. The romances in the original movies (mainly Leia and Han Solo) were mostly real because those two were in constant danger throughout all three movies. Anakin and Padme, however, enjoyed frollicking in grassy fields and having moments on the couch infront of a burning fire. And Lauren was right, Luke gets his whining tendency from his father.

I'm writing and performing a song for English. Yay.

Need to construct a shrine to Queztcoalt for Art. I have many ideas at the moment. Several incorporating the cheap rosaries I seem to get every year from Confirmation classes.

Speaking of which, I got my robe a week ago. Confirmation's in another week. One more week of absolute obligation to go to church, and then it's strictly by grandma's urgings and teen ensemble performances. No, I will not be taking part of the Passion play next year. If all goes well I'll be touring Greece or Rome. Or I'll be staying in England if the three-week exchange thing gets approved.

Need to finish that music video. Blech.

School's almost out. I can't wait for summer's freedom as I get to paint to my heart's content. If I even get up in the morning.

. . . . . posted:||12:23 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Hello, it's been past a week. And my week's been hell. I'll try not to whine too much, but I've been supressing seven days' worth of transgressions.

The entire week was spent trying to recover from severe entropy to my mental state. Most of it was self-induced, some of it was because Lauren went to Utah for the week so I couldn't rant to her, etc. etc.

Currently in Japanese I have to sing Utada Hikaru's "Automatic" while working on the group skit/video. I wanted to get it done by sunday... and the camera fire wire has yet to touch the computer. Other than that, the class has been the usual mixture of boredom and sleep-drunk.

Now that papers and presentations are over and done with in English, we're reading short stories, lyrics, and poetic analysis. Miller's the same as usual (read: drives us to think while keeping our interest) and today was spent discussing concepts of freedom, control, molding, and teenage rebellion.

Photo has been spent in the computer lab making it look like my group is actually doing something. With Lauren gone for the week, I had next-to-no ties with Mr. Born and the theatre department to start shooting the video. And it's due next week. Mary's been working on other homework inclass (whenever she actually shows) and I've been going over the shooting schedule and descriptions backwards and forwards to see if it would actually work.

World History is the same as usual. Hoffman was discussing the almost threatening call about her "anti-religious teachings" and the fact that everyone at prom (guys and girls) were hitting on her boyfriend. Claire constantly tries to hug me from across the aisle, Joey and Brittany are still constantly asleep, Eric's still a pseudo-Jew, and homework has been progressively easy.

Several recent absences in Mr. Millet's part for Algebra 2. Whenever he is there, I struggle to stay awake because his pace is far too slow to keep my interest. Had I a textbook I would've finished all homework for that night while sitting at my desk. Claire again tries to hug me from across the aisle.

Chemistry is as boring as usual. Taylor still manages to get his feet entangled with mine (often in odd situations) and is constantly looking at my lab book to grasp some sort of understanding for the material we're being "taught." Belin's still the worst teacher I've had for science, and my disinterest in her explanation of things is evident of that. We made ice cream today, and it was good. More like a milk-smoothy with select lumpy bits of ice cream; didn't have enough time to properly make a batch.

Lunches have been uneventful for the most part. DJ and Kasper seem to have joined the table, and on some days I miss the gang that I used to sit with till about 4th quarter. Then I remember that they're out in the sun and heat, and I stay in the cool cafeteria. On even days I get to witness Jyl and Adrienne (now an official couple) go at it on eachother's laps while causing the administration to do double takes on the girl-on-girl action. Mr. Hagen's been harassing Claire (I suspect that half of it is purely jest... but that man is definitely deranged). Kristen, Marcy, and I are often left alone at the lunch table once the two love-bunnies run off. I haven't tried looking for Dolphin/Steven in the past week.

Art has been spent working on watercolors. I've been sitting around Nat with her constant talk of bands and such, Jenna with her biting sarcasm and PMS-induced state, and Desi with her talk about lezzy-sex and her vagina. Yes, they've been annoying me. Liz joined in today and, due to illness, was in a heightened state of paranoia and delirium. She cowered in fear for a good ten minutes when she thought that Treat was pointing at her. For the exercise we've been doing, I have to paint an ugly star-nosed mole and the watercolors aren't to my liking. Or at least I don't have the patience at the end of the day to work with paints. It's almost finished at the moment, I just need to apply some inking techniques to it once it dries.

In general I've been quiet for the past week. After the frevor of Rainbow Week last week, I more or less restricted myself to black and other neutral colors. During moments where I am severely annoyed I completely shut up and tend to look at my hands or my shoes. Procrastination reigns supreme in my work ethic. I have absolutely no sex drive. The past week marks a growing fascination and need for power and control and discipline... of sometimes perverse extremes. All signs of stage 3 depression. Factor in the momentary happiness of 4th period and lunches, and you have the typical manic-depressant.

The wind at the moment is horrendously loud. The blank pages of my journals have been filling with my most intimate thoughts.

I've been avoiding a certain someone again. It used to be because I was severely upset after a certain concert, but now it's more so about control. Since I'm exercising control by not having any contact with him, my control over other things has significantly decreased. I should call him sometime, but I don't want our conversations to turn into shouting matches or ackward silences again. Like they have been for the past week.

Lauren: "He's been pissing you off so much; why don't you two just get married already?"

Ever since I told him. I wish I hadn't.

Lauren: "He's overreacting. I say don't discuss it with him anymore."

But I have to keep from thinking about things too much...

Marcy: "Yes I'm jealous! Ever since those two got together, the trio is now a duo and uno."

Otherwise I might not be able to control myself much longer.

Jyl: "Melissa got RPC'd!" (does a dance)

Funny, I'm suppose to be a disillusioned hopeless romantic.

Claire: "I wouldn't mind worshiping you on the dollar bill!"

If I don't believe in romantic love...

Taylor: "I love her! She's so smart and funny and sexy and she just completely turns me on!... So, how's you're lovelife, Chuck?"

What sort of nomenclature does this deserve?

Will: "You know I'm joking right? You're not going to eat my first born again, are you?"

And that is the three hour's traffic of our time. Hopefully this week will be much better.

. . . . . posted:||11:51 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Aaah! This is insane.

Where the hell do I find info on the original four members of COLOR? Damned speaking test skit-script...

Rica! Help! ;_; Or I could just ask you during japanese.

Urp... Ever gotten dizzy from wanting to do three different things at once and coming to that decision at the exact, simultaneous, same time just sent you're mind swirling? Well, it's happening right now... Could be the one Advil I had during dinner...

. . . . . posted:||10:53 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

::fumes with jealousy:: I had been caught up in all that loverly household cleaning that I forgot that Vegas' Pride Fest was happening this weekend (ironically just in time with Mother's Day).

Wanted to see the festivities at Sam Boyd, not so much the Pride Parade... which really should've been down the new strip (along MGMGrand, Paris, Treasure Island, etc.), not at the little street things leading to Fremont Street.

Grandmother's home, and she's brought a motherload from the... erm, motherland. As in: sapatos, bibingka, coconut shirts (newly fitted for me), otap, dried mango, etc. etc. For her two grandchildren's belated birthday presents, she gave my sister two gold bracelets and I got two pairs of sandals that actually fit. She exclaimed each item brought home for its cheap value on the filipino market. This means that (a) the economy of the country is improving and (b) lola will be complaining about everything we buy for the next week until she gets used to living back in the States.

It's Mother's Day. The family got grandma a rosary from Vatican City. The family gave mom a three month break from grandma. After church we're heading over to RoadHouse Grille for dinner.

(Don't worry yourself, Sarah. It's not about anyone you know personally. And it's not so much actions as it is... um, details.)

. . . . . posted:||3:42 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Just some random notes before I have to get back to dusting:

Once I've been comfortably outside of the norm (i.e. out and about) I've lost almost all sense of perveristy. A couple days back Kristen told me that she overheard someone say "Oh yeah, he's always drawing naked men" about my sketchbook. First, it's a bit unnerving yet flattering to find out that I've developed a reputation. Second, I never knew people considered me perverse. Granted, the fact that I jump men in dark corners is enough for some to call me perverse, but then there is the entire biting thing, along with the recent need for handcuffs. And some other information which I shall not disclose (you don't want to know, Sarah). But I don't think of any of it as perverse; it's just a part of me. Just like I don't think that lesbians are perverse or straight people are. Keep in mind that this is all in the context of sexuality; I'm not even touching on subjects like medical research and the like. Ahem... As I was saying, I don't follow anyone's standard of normality, I've created my own.

Feelings of apathy have set in again. I'm at the point where I don't think that sudden thoughts of suicide are that unusual. Case in point: today I snuck in a piece of rock candy when I thought that 24 bits of Advil would go down nicely with iced tea because the tastes would compliment eachother. In the end I just grabbed two for the headache I developed from the chemical smells. Several weeks ago I was sitting in church, bored out of my mind by father Kermit-the-Frog, when I looked down and thought that a pack of C4 would do nicely around my waist at that moment. Not too sure why...

Jamie Oliver: "And you just stick yer hand in there... erm, yer finger in there." The Naked Chef is a wonderful show. Hoffman thinks so too. Can't wait for the premiere of his new show this Tuesday night.

While watching "Josie and the PussyCats," the body-length pillow somehow ended up ontop of me. At that moment I noticed the yellow-amber cast from the lamp, the weight ontop of me, and the song "You Don't See Me" playing in the background. At that moment I realized that it's been almost four years. My bed told me last night that it was feeling lonely again. I had to agree.

I need to learn that I'm not the one to blame all of the time. Normally I screw up a lot, but normally... nevermind. I wish I didn't care. I know I shouldn't care, but I do. And it hurts that I do. Everything about that hurt. Because...

Coincidently, the last segment of the description for that online quiz I took below. I didn't even notice it.

No, I'm still (a)pathetic. Just not about that certain topic. Wish I could say, but I can't. No, I didn't promise anyone about it. Just don't feel like talking about it to anyone at the moment. Anyone who knows.

"The bruises prove it's real."

Holly in a basket.

. . . . . posted:||9:54 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

which Episode II character are you?

Probably the greatest Jedi Knight of all. Like Obi Wan, you are wise and keep your feet on the ground at all times. You will not be outsmarted by anyone. You are always faithful to your friends. Be careful though, danger lurks around every corner - you could even be betrayed by those closest to you.

Hell yes!

Taking a (dinner) break from the pandemic cleaning which has swept the family. It's 9:00pm-ish and we're still not done with the rest of the house. Everyone's ready to give up though... if it weren't my grandma who was coming back tomorrow.

Right now dad's eating some DiGiorno pizza while watching "Glory," and mom's still wiping away at the marble tiles in the kitchen ("There's no sealant on these marble tiles; the stains won't go away!"), sister's asleep in her room while she was "dusting" it, and I'm on the computer before returning to my own room to resume my dusting duties.

That includes watching/listening to "Josie and the PussyCats" in french while wiping every little trinket on my (several) desktops. With no face mask. Yes, coughing is inevitable.

. . . . . posted:||9:07 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Yesterday proved to be one of the best concerts I have ever been to. Glady, Christy didn't swing by and join us because Something Corporate isn't really her thing. One of the saddest (well, seemingly sad) facts about the night was that I was jumping and bouncing around more than all the girls when Andrew was pounding on the keys. Nooo... I am NOT regressing into a squealing fan-girl. I loved their music first and foremost!

Several funny moments during SC's set:

- Andrew slipped on something onstage and fell down behind the piano while maintaining his singing

- The guitarists at one point started freaking with eachother

- During "Konstantine", someone yelled out "This song's too damned long!" and Andrew looked out and said "Yeah, I agree." (note: the cd track is about 9.5 minutes long)

The entire night was filled with good bands (Left Standing and Sugarcult played as well), good music, good water, and good people (sis and I met up with people we had seen in previous concerts). There were a few... naw, we won't get into that. But I can say that my night was almost ruined during the half hour set up between Sugarcult and SC.

Now I have to clean. Blech.

. . . . . posted:||8:43 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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English paper finished.

Today I tried being happy. Due to an absence of bubbles (I brought some and blew them around everywhere the day before) that just wasn't going to happen.

In Japanese we had a quiz which was extremely easy. Watched a few commercials and worked on our speaking-test presentations. Well, I was suppose to, but Bernau-sensei had me working on trying to get her printer to work. The kids from Japanese 3 had screwed around with the printer again which always means that they've changed a setting to make things very inconvenient.

Found a reason to ditch photo today: my group needed to scope out the theatre classrooms for our music video. With proper consent from Mrs. A, Lauren, Mary, and I high-tailed it to the theater where the seniors were... supposedly working on their One Act performances. Talked with Christian in the hallway about a good many things, saw Mary numerous times, compared compact mirrors with Tyler, etc. At some point Nathan swung 'round and everyone left him and Lauren to talk to eachother alone in the hallway. Christian and I slipped them notes telling them to hurry up and screw so we could get back to class. Sometime around this point, Tyler tried pulling down my pants after I stole his sun glasses, and I promptly made an exit to the door.

And that period was the highlight of the day.

Mr. M was missing again for algebra, so we were stuck with this extremely snobby old woman. Did not enjoy her sneering and hacking one bit.

During lunch the discussion at the table was about which person would best suit whatever role in Moulin Rouge. I get to be Toulouse. Before returning to class, I did some serious play-flirting with Claire's boyfriend.

Art found me tired, dazed, and entirely carefree. Or careless. Or uncaring. We're currently doing pen and ink exercises and... I hate exercises. I cannot stand being confined so much. So I drew the piece of wood I had on my table (we were practicing different texture techniques) with a sense of meditation until halfway through the period when I stopped caring. Treat swung by to show off her squirrel creature and there were smiles all around the table. I gave her a blank look and turned back to my inking.

Liz noticed that something was awry and asked me what was up. Didn't feel much for discussion so I just said something to the extent of nothing.

Ate too much for lunch and felt severely sick before drifting off into sleep. Woke up to see Britney Spears on the tv.

Piano sucked. If I actually practiced any these past weeks, I might have that song finished. But no.

Contemplating whether or not I should eat dinner.

. . . . . posted:||9:51 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Yep. Sis is still asleep.

Shallow Grave has definitely become my favorite suspense movie.

Doesn't hurt a bit that Ewan McGregor is in the movie. Or the fact that he (kinda) gets the money in the end.

If he survives the impalement.

. . . . . posted:||10:32 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ahem... I would like to point out that I had been doing this from fall till new year's. Funny how fashions move about.

Currently stealing time from sis' precious paper-writing session. Not to blame; she went upstairs for a nap and hasn't woken up yet.

During English I was utterly dumbstruck while Cooper was giving his presentation. That boy is far too beautiful to be a male, let alone human. The only words I remember him speaking were: "So yeah, my writer was Jack Kerouac..." followed by rubbing the back of his neck in the sheepish shy-boy manner. It's not even that he's attractive, but that he looks almost statuesque; he has a reputation for having effortlessly flawless skin. Not to mention the natural grace with which he carries himself. It's a pity that he has no personality though.

Kiss Me Kate is playing at the moment, and everything is fine.

. . . . . posted:||8:55 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ahem... so. First off, I would like to say that I curse Joss Whedon for leaving me (and a million+ Buffy fans) with a week of speculation and anticipation.

Got initiated into NHS. Apparently the Induction Banquet was suppose to be a formal event with formal dress... oops. Everyone's standing up at the front of the room with our ceremonial candles reciting the New Inductee Code in their sunday/clubbing best, and here're Lauren and I wearing exactly what we did to school today: casual. As much as they made it sound like something completely formal, the "banquet" was really a buffet dinner in the cafeteria. Hn.

Pen and Ink is insane. Especially when I keep spilling the ink all over my fingers.

Went to the photo gallery opening afterwards, but nothing worth sticking around for. So, family made it a quick 20 minute visit and then back home just in time for Buffy.

Hm. Lauren and I are stuck in a state of perpetual apathy. It started last week and has proceeded to persist. Hm.

There was time to kill between the end of school and the start of the Induction Banquet so the family went to Fremont/Neonopolis to kill time. Mainly perusing souvenir shops (every store sold the exact same merchandise) and people watching as we walked up and down the path trying to amuse ourselves.

Need to cut down a ten page paper into three pages... shit.

Test tomorrow? Chemistry? Wha?

I need a bed and a glass of Merlot.

Or a can of gasoline.

Couldn't stand to watch the episode of Real World with the 9/11 tragedy.

I think it's high time I get bitten again.

. . . . . posted:||12:01 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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I blame my own actions for forgetting a visual project at home that was 20% of my english grade for this quarter. The parallels of fate that happened today is worth noting though; I got permission to turn the board in at the end of the day from Miller, so I try calling my dad during 4th period using Leilani's phone. He was busy trimming the palm tree out in front and didn't hear his phone go off. Ironically enough, a patient called him around the same time as I and he thought that both messages he had on his cell phone were from the same person. Also, we had class in the quad during 4th period and they were cutting the palm trees between Main and Fraiser.

Oh well. C'est la vie. I really could care less.

And strangely enough, it's true; people on diets tend to be boring because all they can talk about is their food intake. Right now dad's complaining about how long he'll have to work out to burn off the calories from dinner, while watching a program on the Golf channel about a female golfer who lost 50 lbs. Quite frankly, all this talk about exercise is tedious and boring to an annoyance.

Just when you think Fortuna's handing you something worthwhile.

In Confirmation class we had father Mark (aka Kermit the Frog) talk to us. I was completely disinterested because all of the subjects he was covering I already knew about. Most of the lecture was people asking questions and attempting to subjugate 2000 years of catholic dogma. As much as I do not believe in the Roman Catholic Church I at least understand and appreciate the traditions, dogma, and foundations with which the church has relied on to survive for two millenia.

But then someone had to bring up the whole issue of homosexuality. As much as I hated Fr. Mark's answer ("Homosexuality, like schizophrenia, is a mental disorder.") the girl who asked it deducted from the answer given that "gay people go to hell."

This is a beautiful way to start the week.

. . . . . posted:||8:29 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Um... So, we all know of my lust for Rufus Wainwright and the pain with which he writes and sings, right? Well... this fanfic just adds onto the whole deal. I'm curious if this story was meant to fill in the gaps that Wainwright left during his explanations of his different songs.

. . . . . posted:||10:26 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Finally got to meet Sarah's beau during church. That boy is everything Sarah claimed he was; she's managed to catch a good one.

Dinner at Buca tonight. Joe showed up, after having tried his luck living at Venice Beach, and his formerly green and black hair is now brown and faded-green and he looks like Chris from STD.

Uh... tired.

. . . . . posted:||9:56 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ahem.... ::screams in a pain which knows no proper english adjective::

. . . . . posted:||2:22 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Um... I'm not too keen on singing at church today. Or leaving the house for that matter. But, I have to sing because I need to meet this boy who has stolen Sarah's heart and I would be letting Patty down since I'm more or less the only teen tenor in the group.

I have to go to Buca Di Beppo tonight because dad's treating two branches of the family to dinner in the Pope Room. Don't feel like food at the moment, and that place makes enough to feed Ethiopia thrice.

At least the paper is finished.

It is still ceaselessly amazing how these days I can't imagine myself with anyone. I've been focused in the actual feel and experiences that I can't keep one boy in my mind for more than thirty seconds. An actual person isn't necessary.

Still thinking back on friday night. Recently remembered that, on tuesday or some other time during the week, Matt had pointed out that I (and Karen) don't like to talk to people whom I think I won't like to keep company with. When I asked him why he brought it up (it was a bit sudden) he just said "I dunno, I'm speaking idiot again."

Afraid that I won't approve of his friends? Probably.

I got along fine with Scott though. And Franny's as great as usual.

Need to talk to the boy, but I won't press him to do anything.

I hate being a pacifist/reactionary friend.

. . . . . posted:||12:37 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Now for something entertaining from the mind of Rex Navarette:

"Lolo, stop! This is Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs! It's a cartoon, sit down!"

"I don't care! This is a racist depiction! There should be filipinos in this movie; you see those dwarfs? How they're kinda short? They like to work a lot. Sometimes without money? They gamble. And all of them are single bachelors, huh? Bachelors, like the filipinos of the 1950's! And they have to share one white woman, huh? They could be filipino!"

Funny how only certain jokes can be appreciated by a certain ethnic/cultural group.

Speaking of which, I believe that I've found an answer to a problem that I face. For the music video I'm suppose to do, I have to put visuals to the sensual beat of Zap Mama's "Rafiki." One problem though: what concept will remain appropriate while remaining on a relatively neutral cultural backing? I admit that I know absolutely nothing about Afropean music (although it's definitely something I can get used to) so I'd feel completely unnatural to create a video that would be focused on that particular group. (Sorry, struggling to find PC terms)

So, in the spirit of unity and demolition of barriers which Zap Mama is all about, I've decided to make my video about some sort of CD which is passed on from owner to owner; each in turn begins to dance to the music until finally an entire classroom breaks out in rhythm and groove. Um... one problem though. What class short of the Dance classes would be willing to do such a thing? Oh well, I'll present my idea to the other two group members and see how they like things.

Heh, speaking of culture diaspora, I just got some belated birthday money from the maternal grandparents in a Chinese New Year envelope.

Still in the middle of working on my paper. Need to get to bed sometime soon.

. . . . . posted:||12:07 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Look out. I've been on a Bazmark movie marathon starting with Strictly Ballroom to the new DVD of Romeo+Juliet to the ever amazing Moulin Rouge DVD.

In otherwords, I've re-memorized the steps to "Lady Marmalade."

But I will never wear the lion mane Ms. Aguilera donned.

. . . . . posted:||9:31 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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No, I will not turn this into an obligatory concert post. Although I have to admit that this Saves The Day show was a bit... erm, lacking. Mainly the opening acts took too much time so STD had to cut their set short. In otherwords, NO AUDIENCE INTERACTION. The pretty-boy frontman sported a nice frock of hair though.

I was very comfortable during the concert. Sandwiched between the rail, a cute tall guy, a cute lil guy, and... oh yeah, my sis was there too. Luckily I didn't have to pay too much attention to the side that she was on.

The ride home felt like one of those clown things where several clowns fit into this really small car. Imagine fitting a five-seater with seven people. Basically Matt's mom and friend in the front, and us for kids (me, sis, Matt, Karen, Scott) stuck in the back with Karen lying across our laps.

Passed by a cute guy driving an extremely sexy car. Basically did some blatant staring, eye flirting, and Karen giving him the "okay" sign before he slammed the gas pedal all the way down. Wasn't able to ditch us (we were going down the same road) until five stoplights later.

Hmm... each group outing I've been having with Matt has turned into an excuse for him and whoever to make out. But he should call it quits with his other before going hip-to-hip with another. I'm just upset by principle though; nothing personal.

I get to make a music video for Zap Mama's "Rafiki" for photoclass. Yay. Actually, their music is extremely unique; a fusion of afropean beats, pygmy chants, etc. We were going for this Arthur Jones song, a man with a Bob Dylan-esque voice and style, until Lauren and I heard the chorus:

"God will never leave you.... God will never leave you...."

Lauren: Umm... I think we should go with that "Rafiki" song.

Now, time to work on my research paper, my visual for my research paper, my presentation about my visual for my research paper, and... math homework that has nothing to do with my research paper. Joy.

Sadly enough, I'm not tired.

. . . . . posted:||11:42 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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So, is it just me, or does Darren Hayes look suspiciously like Kurt Cobain. Yep, recently got his cd. Yep, reading the fanfics. No, I am not going stalker on the guy.

Back to the hair... the new style seems to fluctuate often. Occasionally he looks like the grunge rock god, then he manages to look deceptively french, etc. etc.

Just thought I'd like to share.

. . . . . posted:||12:23 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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A short note on why my parents annoy me so.

To be perfectly honest, it isn't annoyance (although that is a large part) but more so disappointment. I've lost some respect and trust in my parents other the past three months. I used to look at my parents as a sort of example of what a marriage should be: happy, productive, nurturing.

But both mother and father have been regressing steadily into states of their own childhood, and I'm appauled at the amount of immaturity someone I respected was able to commit.

It might just be me putting my parents on a pedestal.

Or I could be right that the mental stability of everyone in my family is slowly becoming undone. Sister is becoming more and more dependent on others to fetch her items, do favors, wake her up, etc. as she procrastinates more and more. Dad is losing the sense of severity and authority he once had to a sort of playful state. Mom is farther down the road of regression and has given into her Dionysian urges half of the time, and exerting her maternal influence much like a first grader would follow a command with: "Because I said so!" And me? I've become more withdrawn.

No one is supporting their actions because we supposedly understand eachother. All I can understand is that my mother is spoiled farther than myself, my sister will not be able to function in the outside world, my father is definitely having a mid-life crisis, and my own fascination with death is slowly growing.

Apparently "teenagers aren't suppose to think so morbidly." What's wrong with feelings of death? As long as nothing is acted upon, and these emotions can be properly maintained, there is no risk.

"Live hard, die young, leave a beautiful corpse" doesn't apply to me anyways.

So I do what I can to get by.

. . . . . posted:||11:12 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Every time I attempt to say something intelligent, I tend to lose my train of thought and end up making absolutely no sense what so ever.

(warning: gratuitous whiny post up ahead)

Sometimes I wish I could organize my thoughts and dissect things analytically as well as the Duck can. I'm hesitant to call it verbose (since that tends to have a negative connotation recently).... Descriptive? Thorough? There's a possibility that I could write at his calibre. Just give me several years to work on that. Or I could just blame the computer for all that woe; there's something about a computer screen that zaps all coherent speech out of me.

Steven and his artist's statement was far better written than the one I slopped together for my AIDS project. But I admire him for a few more things than just that. He can still be semi-descriptive about his emotions even when he is completely distraught and withdrawn.

Brittany can manage to do just that. Or at least go into detail about her day without keeping things excessively vague and cryptic.

Or I could recount amazing moments with my boyfriend the way that he manages to. Sometimes I read what he writes and I forget that those events were real and not just out of a book.

But the greatest fear I have at the moment is that Matt might very well be right about me. Recently I've been dreading our phone conversations because he manages to remind me about things which I don't want to recall (even though I should). For instance, today was a screaming match over the phone followed by extended silences and half whispered apologisies. I was even singing along to my Rent CD when I called him, and that couldn't keep my mood up.

I've been realizing lately that I don't have those same typical symptoms that people have. Withdrawn: yes, but only when I'm at home. Quiet: haven't been so in the past week. Sleepy: only because I need to kill time and knocking myself unconscious seems the most painless way of passing the hours.

I can't believe that he had the gaul to bring THAT up while we were discussing... the other topic. I should probably tell him that the only reason I ever started any of this was because of him.

Dammit, I don't like him anymore and even still he remains a fixture in my life.

It's about time I tell Karen. If anyone deserves to know, it's her. Now if only I could contact her without doing something tacky like a lengthy, sob-story email.

Even though I haven't cried in the past three years. I'm proud of that fact, yet at the same time my eyes have been constantly dry.

So I live life by the music it plays. It's the only thing that gets me by.

My sketchbook has once again become something incriminating if the administration ever got a hold of it.

Urgh... once again jealousy rears it's ugly green head. This is one of those times where I wish I wasn't filipino. All the boys I happen to like (or did like, for that matter) are into pale skin. Hell, so am I. I spend some of my time watching The Naked Chef on the FoodNetwork to drool over the chef instead of the food.

Shit, I'm letting the music dictate my mood again.

I'm capable of helping myself through rough times. Why do people think that I need to see a psychiatrist, even though I know exactly what's wrong with me? Maybe I enjoy the pain.

Ack, the dualities of persona. I need to put down the Jung, Goethe, and Hesse before I regress back to my Dali worshipping ways.

Speaking of which, I still have a paper to write. ::screaming obscenities::

. . . . . posted:||11:00 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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