I don't care what anyone says; suppression is working wonders for my current dilemma. The constant preaching of the "sensitivity" doctrine has overserved it's purpose in this country. Everyone shares anything and everything with (almost) everyone else, and secrets are no longer treasured. People 'discussing' their feelings quickly deteriorates into common whining. Someone should tell everyone to just shut up and suck it in sometimes.

But that's just bitter ol' me talking. And that's why I haven't been eyeing anyone over the summer, nor the four months preceeding (Steven doesn't count; he was just someone to obsess over to make lunchtime interesting).

It's worse now. Libido finally woke up just two days before school started up again, and now I don't feel like scoping potential whatevers. But I still feel like the overly-occasional casual sex fiend that I think that I am.

And no, that's still not the problem that I'm supressing.

... Mario Batali is on Martha Stewart at the moment... Oh the perils I transgress to learn a good pasta recipe that I'll just screw up thanks to lack-luster ingredients.
Dammit, now I'm hungry again.

. . . . . posted:||11:16 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Judging from the first week of school, I fear that my earlier notions are correct: junior year will kill me.

It's only the first weekend of school and already my AP class is impeding any social life what-so-ever. Well, not quite true. There's a two-hour party at LaserQuest (again) for crazy-Em, and I was almost going to say no to the occasion. I do have two more chapters, 40 terms, and two essays to write still.

Not counting the completely insane amount of time it's taking for me to stipple and tease an image out of clayboard for art. What was that? Sketchbook assignment due next week or two weeks from now? Oh. Holy. Hell.

But all bad things have some sort of silver lining: all this business has helped me keep my mind from... certain... subjects... which I refuse to discuss at this time.

I'd jump back into my entire 'semi-goth-all-black' wardrobe, but it's still far too hot for me to be wearing anything of the sort. That and I want to put off looking like Remy for as long as possible.

At least I get a locker come Tuesday.

. . . . . posted:||5:17 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Hm. Apparently one of the "token-gays" of last year's graduating class went into a Mormon church, saw a pretty girl, saw "the light," and is now completely straight. It took all of two seconds. And he gets baptized into the Mormon faith on friday.

(sounds like a story the duck's dad would send him)

Very disturbing, since said boy was the reigning fairy godmother of the anime group. Maybe he became tired of being known as nothing more than a "token gay" all his life.

So during lunch Nick, Karen, and I conspired to somehow get one of his ex's to interject the baptism with the usual "I object!" catch-phrase a la weddings. Nick suggested that the ex came nude or at least in a purple thong.

Better than the other images everyone put into my head earlier in the lunch.

. . . . . posted:||5:47 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Good news. I've actually become passionate about a Sept. 11th issue: privacy paranoia.

It goes hand in hand with my anti-mass-censorship ideas. I've read several articles about the de-constitutionalization of American civil rights since the terrorist attacks (one article about the unjust search of an artist's photos) as well as the "war's" role as a sort of smoke-screen to other failing government policies.

Reminicent of the "war on drugs" (although the tobacco company should go down) drawing the attention of middle-America away from civil injustices and ecologic crisis elsewhere.

So, I've decided to use some images from The Passion of Joan of Arc for the thumbnails.

. . . . . posted:||4:21 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Right now I'm winding down and decompressing infront of the computer with a cup of jasmine tea and POE playing on the speakers. Definitely needed after this day.

First day of school stuff was boring, but that's understandable. Homeroom had me sitting around Kristen, Danica, Marcy, Rica, sis, and Randy (Lauren's friend from Centennial) were we chatted about miscellany.

Trigonometry first thing in the morning. Not a good thing for my brain. Sat next to Christine and compared our schedules. Apparently we're stuck in all the same classes except for her Journalism and my Psychology. Our teacher seemed as dull and annoying (not to mention a slave-driver) as reported by everyone who had her before us. A worksheet due tomorrow.

Walked with Christine to US History AP. Was surrounded by a Nikki, an Adrienne, and an Emmelle. Our teacher seems amazing at the moment; we share the same cynical sense of humor (except hers isn't as dark as mine) and she's found of cracking jokes. Yay. Then again, I get my book for the class tomorrow. Which is quite heavy.

American Lit. next, and again I walked with Christine. Sat in the corner by Adrienne, Christine, Mary, etc. The class... at the moment still stands neutral. We got our books which I lugged around for the rest of the day, as well as pictoral name-tags due tomorrow. On a plus side, Flavey's in that class so that's very cool.

Japanese III next, and it seems like we're actually learning stuff this year with our college-level textbooks. The remaining third-year Japanese speakers joined together into one semi-small class, as well as four fourth-year students. Including Bobby. Randy was there as well, and sensei tried to get him to introduce himself to the class, but he was shy and said nay. Oh, and no more workbooks.
Split ways with Christine to go to my Psychology class, and ended up sitting next to (another) Kristin, Adrienne, and BUM. Our teacher seems far different from the supposedly-sexist monster I heard about; she's friendly and quite funny while remaining strict at the same time.

Mid-class we broke for lunch, where Karen met up with me and I began her infusion into the anime group. Forgot to introduce her to half of the group though. Oops. DJ came over at some point to chat a bit and enlist our help in finding his boyfriend. Didn't happen. Later we headed over to his little group, but didn't get much talk time in before the bell rang.

The rest of Psychology was spent talking to Kristin about her dog that she put to sleep, euthanasia, etc. And she's suppose to be the happy one.

Walked with her to Physics where we sat by Flavey. Chatted incessantly after getting our paperwork out of the way (mainly about my newly approved "gay" shirt) and other stuff. Jim was sitting behind us with Christine and again a sharp-tongued greeting. Joey in his salmon-pink shirt, Gerard, Sean, Mikey, etc. were there as well.

Art is going to be hell this year. Not only am I stuck in a class with two very disagreeable people, but the class is rather large. Michaels was pissy last year with her small class, and now that we've doubled... all hell will break lose. First homework assignment of the year: four thumbnails for a scratchboard piece and an article concerning Sept. 11th. Joy. Combining two subjects I purposely avoid being passionate about. But a grade is a grade.

Back to home room, chatted with Randy some more about his Mustang, and we were off.

Oh, and people were constantly pointing out that I was almost literally half the man I was. The comments are flattering, but they're a bit unsettling as well. Guess that's what I should expect when I wear a semi-tight shirt.

Didn't fair too well with sis though. I could tell that she was holding back her depressive/jealous emotions whenever anyone came up to her demanding to know my secret. Grandma drove the final stake home when she commented that sis wasn't eating "probably because she is sooo BIG!" So sis just got a glass of water and went upstairs instead.

But yes, time to get to that homework.

. . . . . posted:||3:33 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Last night was waiting to happen for the longest time.

So, sis and I arrive at LaserQuest half an hour late... and no one else was there. Twenty minutes later only Christy, Nicole, Sarah, and her "day-care" were the only ones to show up so we just decided to play a game already. Sarah showed us her photos from Matt's birthday, including some righteously funny ones of Jaron. Afterwards, went inside to get prepped up for the game of laser tag.

The lady behind the desk was the same bitchy one from last year's LaserQuest excursion. She hadn't toned down the venom in her tongue one bit. Our group was also playing with a bunch of really little kids... who were so small they weren't only annoying, they were hard to hit. We decided that everyone over 4.5 ft. should go hunt down the brats. And then there was Sarah and her sis (alias: TweedleDee and TweedleDum) picking off everyone from up above. So much for friendship.

Afterwards dinner at Buca where, ironically, we got the kitchen-side table again. The presense of Sarah's siblings should have kept me from saying several things... but it really didn't. Hindered Christy's harassment of bus-boy Mike though; instead of wise-cracks and offers of sex, she and all the other girls just burst out in giggles.

The chef right next to our table played along very well and at one point hunted down Mike with Christy's camera for us and took a picture of him. Right when he was next to our table. So Sarah asked him to pose and suddenly three other cameras (Sarah's, Nicole's, and sis') went off. Perfect timing.

I scored $2 to each some rank anchovies. Mind you, nothing wrong with dried anchovies... but these were moist, chalking, and faintly smelling of ass. After one I had to quickly down half my drink, several bites of salad, and a large portion of garlic bread. And the taste still lingered. Oh yes, there were photos of that too.

Tonight I get to see a magic act downtown (yay... I guess) and supposedly Matt's planning something for sunday afternoon. Afterwards, school. Eh.

. . . . . posted:||10:46 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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"Candy" - Ash (the French version)

Candy, tu viens dans mes nuits
Attiser le feu de mes souffrances
Oh candy, toi, ma seule envie
Apprends-moi les jeux de l'innocence

Angel, tous les gens sont pareils
Ils donnent toujours des faux soleil
O candy, tout au bout de silence
J'entends ta voix me souffler ta présence

Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment ont toujours peur deux-mêmes?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?
Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment jamais ne se retiennent?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?

Angel, des monts des merveilles
J'en ai entendu à chaque fois
Oh candy, j'aimerais qu'on l'essaye
De s'envoler bien plus haut que nos bois

Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment ont toujours peur deux-mêmes?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?
Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment jamais ne se retiennent?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?

Oh candy, je t'aime
Oh candy, je t'aime
Oh candy, je t'aime
Oh candy

Candy, demande à la poussière
Où s'enfuit le temps qui nous eloigne
Oh candy, tu es ma seule prière
Juste un peu de lumière sur mes larmes

Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment ont toujours peur deux-mêmes?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?
Pourquoi les gens qui s'aiment jamais ne se retiennent?
Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?

Pourquoi toujours tant de peine?

Happy #1150 everyone.

. . . . . posted:||7:58 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hot Topics is quickly losing points in my book. Not because everyone shops there, things are horridly over-priced, and all they're really doing is introducing a wonderful subculture into the mainstream market. Noo.... it's because the guy behind the cashier forgot to remove that damned security ink cartridge. Definitely non-plussed since now I have to haul ass back to the mall to get that undone.

On a brighter side, I got two new pairs of shoes. Cheap ones from Payless, but they look like Sketchers anyways. $40.

Finally got some fitted shorts at Sears. Their men's department is horridly small so the selection wasn't as grand as I'm used to... Also kinda ironic that all the shirts with nice fronts/backs are all small or large. No one has good medium-sized shirts anymore! Then again, I don't want to wear half the shirts out there because someone said that brandnames on the front are now fashion staples. If I'm not advertising some sort of preppy line, it's always a skater/alt. brand. Did manage to get a nice dragon sweater. And more boxer briefs. $89.

Had a haircut and it's looking gorgeous. Angie's really the best stylist at... that place that I get my hair... erm, cut. There was an estimated hour and half wait (!) since everyone was getting their back-to-school cuts, but half of them didn't show up so it was more like 45 minutes. Contemplated getting that BedHead "wax-in-a-spray-can" since the wet look is starting to lose it's hold. ::shrug::

Ran into Mica manning her cart infront of Suncoast. She wanted to "massage" my hair with this bizarre contraption that was the bastard child of a green tea ceremony whisk and a spider. Of course I said no.

I bought stuff from Claire's. Someone shoot me... although it was a really nice dragon ring. Reminds me of Falcour. $3.25.

Didn't get too much from Hot Topics (mainly because I knew that all the shirts there would eventually be worn by everyone at school) (hell, I hear that the Iron Chef shirts are catching on with my friends) besides a bondage-strap shirt (on sale too!), a mirror/ID carrier with rainbow stars (I would have preferred black, but that was the only one they had), and Penguin Chocolat Mints. Would have gotten the 'dork' shirt, but they had no medium-sized dirty-pink ones.$25.

Got tackled by Flavey while waiting for the parents outside of Hot Cats. Sis and I chatted with her, Lex, and Nikki for a good twenty minutes (and dammit, she's taking me to the gay store someday!) before we realized that the parents were sitting at a nearby table. Oops. Hope they didn't see me cruising the guys with the other girls or hear me talking about borrowing the pink-skunk shirt sis bought from said store.

Or that I actually watch Martha Stewart when there's nothing else on.

Would have gotten stuff at PacSun... but things there are major rip offs. I refuse to pay $50 for khaki shorts. Not to mention that all the shirts are sporting logos and brand names as well.

Didn't even think of going to Anchor Blue since that store's been marked. Ech.

And then went to Applebee's where I got another salad-dinner (didn't finish since I was stuffed from lunch anyways) and then home to American Idol.

So... um, yeah.

. . . . . posted:||7:01 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Stol--borrowed from Tony. ::waves:: Hiya!

Songs that...

1] makes you want to dance:
Pretty much anything by Save Ferris... specifically "SPAM"

2] makes you happy:
I guess you could say that listening to Sarah Mclaughlin made me "happy"... but more accurately it's Savage Garden's "I Want You"

3] reminds you of an ex-lover:
"Shining Light" - Ash

4] reminds you of an ex-friend:
either "4am" or "Life" by OLP

5] describes your relationship with your parents:
"Pink" - Aerosmith (don't ask)

6] makes you cry:
"Konstantine" - Something Corporate (which is the only song to make me shed a tear the first time I heard it)

7] makes you laugh:
"Macho Duck" - DDR Disney Rave

8] makes you ponder life:
"Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" - Rufus Waiwright

9] Says a lot about you:
"Twist" - Holcombe Waller (although that's only side of many facets)

10] reminds you of your significant other:
"The Man I Love" - Gershwin (let's face it, there's only one person I could remotely fall in love with, and only one reason why it'll never happen: he doesn't exist)

11] you wish you wrote:
"20th Century Boy" - Placebo (whoo! VG!)

12] you never want to hear again:
That annoying "Ball Go Far" ditty from all those Nike golf commercials.

13] you want played at your funeral:
"Black Betty" - Ram Jam (again, don't ask)

14] you want to get married to:
"Magdalena" - A Perfect Circle

15] makes friends think of you:
Erm... not too sure. Anyone care to answer that for me?

16] you once loved but got sick of:
"Wasting My Time" - Default (damn you TRL)

17] you love by a band/artist you hate:
"Get Free" - The Vines (die, whimpy emo-core song, die)

18] you sheepishly admit to liking:
Bernedette Peters... because it's proof that I'm a poof

19] makes you want to mosh:
"World Domination" - Ash

20] you'd do anything to see played live:
"Candy" - Ash

21] reminds you of your childhood:
That Madonna song about playgrounds... sis and I played it on the jukebox in Sears when we were young

22] sums up your teenage years:
"Poses" - Rufus Waiwright

23] most people like but you hate:
I'll have to agree with most of my friends... and tell Eminem to run his lips under the needle of an industrial stitch machine.

24] you love the lyrics of:
"Unsent" - Alanis Morrisette

25] you used to hate but now love:
"The Tango Maureen" - RENT (I blame you, Flavey)

26] is best played in the car:
"Scream If You Wanna Go Faster" - Geri Halliwell

27] you like to fall asleep to:
The entire Sarah Mclaughlin CD collection

28] you like to wake up to:
"California" - Wave

29] you like out of your parents record collection:
"Love Is Like a Ball and Chain" - Janis Joplin

30] you love that you wouldn't know if it wasn't for a friend:
"Twist" - Holcombe Waller (snaps to the duck)

31] makes you think of someone who died:
"Blood of Me" - Heather Nova

32] you love the video more than the tune:
"In Repair" - OLP (although it's a definite close call)

33] reminds you of your first crush:
"Kissing You" - Desree

34] is good to listen to whilst making out:
"Are You In" - Incubus

35] you love which is from a favourite movie:
"A Life Less Ordinary" - Ash (cookies to those who know what scene it was used in)

40] makes you think of sex:
"Hey Pretty (drive-by remix)" - POE (heheh...)

41] makes you think of being alone:
"Are You Sad" - OLP

42] makes you smile:
"Taste in Men" - Placebo

43] you love to hear at clubs:
"Shame" or "Dreaming" - BT

44] is not your "typical type" of style but you love anyway:
Anything by Eve.

45] reminds you of your best mate:
"Oi To The World" - No Doubt

46] reminds you of your siblings:
Hmm... the ending song to Hamtaro

47] reminds you of the one you want but can't have:
"Norman Blake" - Crambo

48] you can sing really well:
Anything showtune-y

49] from favorite performer:
too... many...

50] a great song you didn't get to list for any other question:
"Vanilla (BA-NI-RRA)" - Gackt

. . . . . posted:||2:51 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ahem. Someone please stop me before I decide to buy anything from this here page. Although I have plenty to accessorize with... and who wouldn't pay to see me kick major ass at concerts in a plaid skirt?

While on that note, someone please stop me before I decide to cook chicken. First off, it turned out like shite because the damned skillet wasn't heating when I thought I was. Second, I enjoyed skinning and dismembering the lil hen far too much to be healthy. Maybe that's why they didn't let me got at that cadaver for long... I can still smell raw flesh on me, and that was last night's meal.

Coincidentally, dad brought home some fried chicken. And mom threw a fit because we didn't get anything decent from the Goldilocks in Cali... Even though the box was a present from relatives in said state.

School's back in less than a week. Ech. On the bright side, that means that the group is planning another major outing to LaserQuest. Followed by the (now religous) dinner at Buca. Where we get to harass the waiter(s) (Mike!) and make all the other employees groan.

Still in the midst of my Ash obsession. Heard they got in an accident, so that blows chunks out the window like Geri Halliwell. And poor Rick cracked a rib.

Speaking of which, in the song "Candy" the line "you can make it on your own" occasionally sounds like "you get naked on your own."

Hmm... since the first day back is coming up, I'm contemplating whether the feather boa would be construed as inappropriate. Regardless, I'm wearing my muscle-esque tee.

And yes, I still have J-Lo thighs. Scary.

. . . . . posted:||2:16 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Which Brad Pitt character are you?
Er, congrats, you're Louis de Pointe du Lac from Interview With a Vampire! You'll live in misery and with enormous regrets for the rest of your life. Oh, and you'll be alone. That is, unless Tom Cruise comes and finds you, which actually wouldn't be so bad...

- - -

What type of RPG player are you?
I'm a God Mod! I'm the creator. I own everything. If someone breaks the rules, god help them. And that would be me.

Created by Khaydarin9
- - -

which Cruel Intentions character are you?
created by switchico

Blaine Tuttle - You are Blaine. You are Sebastian's gay pal. You enjoy getting high on marijuana. You also sell drugs. You only appear in the movie for less than 10 minutes because the director cut half your part. This doesn't mean your not an important character in the movie.

. . . . . posted:||10:42 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Holy shite have I been busy these past few days.

Spent Thursday and Friday morning applying the finished touches to the house before Blair came mid-Friday (after getting lost in the airport for a good half hour). Afterwards she and sis chatted while munching on cookies and stuff, perusing the two LVA yearbooks we had, etc. etc. She was still feeling a bit apprehensive 'round me (the last time she visited I was still an insensible prick).

By sunset she chilled out a bit more and reminisced on how evil I was back in AZ. I couldn't agree with her more. Went to see the King's Tournament at Excalibur. Front row seats in the Norway section, so not only were we in danger of being hassled by Kellan's dad (he plays Merlin) but we could also check out the few cute actors and got occasionally hit by dirt whenever the horses came towards us. The food went from good to mediocre the last time we were there. This time it was bad. Really bad. All the mugs were now plastic instead of metal. No warm soapy towels to wipe our hands on; they turned into package moist towelets. The soup has de-evolved from french onion to quebec-ish onion to Campbell's tomato soup. The main course (which used to be served mid show) consisted of the same cooked game hen, broccoli, and bread. The twice-baked potatoes are now just soggy spud-planks. At least the dessert was better, but they ran out of dishes so a lot of people had to double up.

Yesterday started with me waking up on the couch with a distinct copper flavor in the back of my throat. Went to the Stratosphere's Top of the World for lunch (where I had, again, an enormous Oriental salad) and the floor moved at almost double it's normal speed (the dining area, on the top of the tower, rotates so the diners can witness an ever-changing view from the large windows) so I was a bit disoriented.

Afterwards went to the Galeria. Didn't find anything to buy, and I was severely disturbed by the sudden popularity of horizontally striped shirts. That, and Gap salespersons hassling me to buy their jeans.

Met up with two people that we knew from school there. First, Katey (art major who graduated last year) working the counter at Hot Topic (big surprise there) and Joey pumping the lemonade at Hotdog on a Stick. During his quick break he came over and chatted with us for a bit, comments about me being "buff," Blair's stay in Vegas, and his $100 stinted paycheck were exchanged, before he had to get back to work.

Throughout the day I wasn't feeling so well. There were moments where I completely blacked out (but luckily I had been sitting each time that happened) and others where it just seemed like I needed a lot of rest.

Only a few more weeks (two) till school starts. I'm quite looking forward to it. Well, minus the supposedly-sexist Psych/Socio teacher I'll be having next year. Or the evil anti-Art-major dean. ::shudder::

Today I woke up with the same coppery taste. I'm thinking that that's blood, for some reason. But unlike sis, I won't jump to conclusions.

. . . . . posted:||9:24 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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::ahem:: Just a slight preface. This entry's going to be riddled with quotes.

"You were conceived in my heart, Came like a dream
To save me from my mortality
Put on your dress, White Goddess
And settle in as the weather folds
Our lives will be entwined, Even when I die
You'll see me through 'till the end of time
No earthly bride, The most beautiful
Star in the world, In the air, On my tongue
Before my eyes, Beyond the stars, Beneath the sun

So take me in your arms again
Lead me in my dreams again
So what is it worth, I'll sell my soul
So what is it worth, Only you know"

One mega-ton chocolate powdered (yes, they do exist) donut to the first person who can tell me what movie I'm currently obsessing over? Hint: it has something to do with the above song.

::tick tock tick tock::

Alrighty, time's up. And the answer is: A Life Less Ordinary. Or ALLO. Or "The-Most-Underrated-Love-Comedy-Ever." Either or. I really don't see why this movie caught on: it's suppose to be a fun, irrelevant romp into all things sap and loverly. It's not suppose to be another effing Trainspotting.

But yes, the song from up above is Ash's "A Life Less Ordinary." If you knew it, then you're probably either another Ash fan or another ALLO fan. Hiya!

(side note: speaking of fan-stuff, I've been tempted to join some of the fanlistings out there... but then I'd have to compensate for that with my layouts and designs.)

Not much stuff done today... or yesterday for that matter. Well, tonight was full of funtabulous activities, but first yesterday. Um... all I remember is sleeping a lot, and oversleeping leaving sis to do a third of the kitchen tiles.

Today was piano (which I kicked complete ass on thanks to my improving sight-reading skills) where I discussed with Chris some house-cleaning tips. The kitchen is even more precarious than others because my grandma, in all her wisdom to cut the cost of installation, didn't have a layer of sealant put on the marble tiles when she got them done. Which means that any stain leaves a scar in the marble. Even water does if allowed to evaporate.

So Chris suggested using water with a bit of vinegar.

Ate at Applebee's for dinner (where their half-sized salads are really whole servings... how people manage to finish a regular salad, I have no idea) (then again, all the "salads" that I make are only side dishes for the main dish, so my perception on a regular serving of salad may be a bit askew) where I found out that the damned restaurant has their own spin-off brand of Nutrisweet. Blech. Oh, and for some reason QVC was on the bar's TV for a good half hour.

Went to Borders afterwards and bumped into crazy Emily from school several times. We discussed all the cute pictures from the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark, being cold, me giving her a photocopy of my self portrait ("so when you're rich and famous I can sell it and not work for a while!"), etc.

I bumped into her again at the magazine rack and was helping her look for a music mag... that she didn't know the name to. Hm. But, right in the very center, was a Playboy with the model barechested and her crotch covered by a bouquet. Em and I stood back, critiqued the awful composition of the bouquet, and turned the magazine over. She looked better upside down anyways.

There was a cute guy in a red shirt, glasses, a la emo-going-on-rockabilly. And he was alone. And he was wearing his watch on his right wrist. I didn't know whether to rape him because he was sexy or hug him because he was adorable.


Got Gaiman and Pratchett's Good Omens. I haven't even finished the first chapter and already I'm rolling on the floor quickly recommending to my friends. It's seriously rare for me to be floored by literature of any sort when not performed, and this one took the cake. For instance, the (abridged) opening snippet:

"Current theories on the creation of the Unverse state that... it came into being between ten and twenty thousand million years ago...The earth itself is generally... four and a half thousand million years old. These dates are incorrect.

"Medieval Jewish scholars put the date of the Creation at 3760 BC. Greek Orthodox theologians put Creation as far back as 5508 BC. These suggestions are also incorrect.

"Archibishop James Usher... suggested that the Heaven and the Earth were created in 4004 BC. One of his aides took the calculation further, and was able to announce triumphantly that the Earth was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 BC, at exactly 9:00 am because God liked to get to work done early in the morning while he was feeling fresh.

"This too was incorrect. By almost a quarter of an hour. The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons as a joke the paleontologists haven't seen yet.

"This proves two things: Firstly, that God moves in extremely mysterious, not to say, circuitous ways... Secondly, the Earth's a Libra."

Amen. Karen would love this book (basically think the Book of Revelations according to Monty Python) and I'd let her borrow it... if she ever got to viewing/reading VG or Murder Mysteries. And, as added incentive, I hold the first chapter of Pastoral hostage! Ha!

After watching American Idol (and gawking at Jim from behind Paula) I was set to finishing the kitchen... which took a good four hours of gently wiping the tile and then going panic on the grout with a toothbrush to get it as close to white as it can get. Mind you, it wasn't four hours of continuous labor. At some point I took a short break to show sis some Ewan pics online (mainly his Mini Faces gallery) which turned from a minute to an hour of surfing, finding, and commenting on Ewan pics.

To think, I would've been typing this up an hour earlier if I hadn't done that.

... I blame my de-funked sleeping schedule.

Which, I regret to add, has given me this nasty habit of watching Martha Stewart Living in the wee hours of the morning. Mainly for the cooking bits... all other sections I spend staring at Martha's face in horror and amusement that her makeup artists can't hide the fact that she's old and hideous now.

Oh yes, new layouts in the process. Trying to rework an ALLO-inspired design into something a bit more balanced. Or I could just lie down, read my book and eventually fall asleep.

"Choices... there's always choices..."

. . . . . posted:||4:19 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


5:00pm to 1:30am cleaning. And discovering how utterly disgusting that catch plate (on the very bottom) on toasters get after 3+ years of use. Making it a point to clean that lil bitch out once a week.

Overall the lower half of the house is looking decent. All that's left is mopping (but in this case, due to mop-absence, I'll be on my hands and knees cleaning the tiles Karate Kid style) and ::cringe:: cleaning the restroom. But I won't be doing that one, sis is.

I, on the other hand, am stuck cleaning the upstairs bathroom. The one that's shared by three people. Not a good sign, at all.

A little trick: if you're in dire need of certain pills (like a vitamin or some porzac) that need to be digested with food as well, stuff the damned med into any hollow pasta (penne being the ideal choice) and swallow away! Well, unless you can't swallow it, in which case just chew some and be done with it. Regardless, no more upset stomachs.

And... yes.

. . . . . posted:||1:39 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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"There's something that straight people just don't get about gay people, something that we do. Gee, don't know how to say this but--we look exactly like you! Yes, it would be easier if we were purple with horns, but this way we are able to walk among you!" -Elvira Kurt

She's such an awesome comedian. And no, I didn't get hooked on her just because she's a lezzy (that just happened to be an added bonus); she's genuinely funny.

"At this point the audience thinks: 'Wait, so if you're a lesbian... and we were laughing at you... does that mean... that we're gay?' Let me just clear this up for all of you: yes, you are."

"I didn't start doing gay jokes because I didn't know I was gay. I just thought I was different... because I was doing comedy... And that is a queer thing to do, right there!"

And on that queer-themed comedy show on Showtime: "This has been another edition of Queertime. Viewing this program does not in any way make you gay. But, if you watch it one more time, you're an official bisexual."

Anyways, today was... asi asi. Nothing too remarkable besides me going to shop at the Goodwill store (and finding one of those now hard-to-find red DARE shirts, along with a first-print edition of Positively Gay circa 1979), sleeping in my room after reading one of the essays in my book, getting woken up just so the family could go eat at 5'n'Diner, and me being generally quiet with my head down throwing dagger stares at people when they addressed me.

At least I finally got 'round to burning that Ash remix CD. Now I can listen to "Angel Interceptor" without the computer!

(speaking of which: the monitor's starting to show signs of aging. yes, it spontaneously turns off)

. . . . . posted:||2:52 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Here's some food for thought:

"Now certainly, Asian immigrants did not number among those assumed within the emergent category of the Caucasian, but, upon arriving in the US, Asian immigrants often acquired the concomitant "negrophobia" which acted as a strategic anxiety functioning to acculturate the Asian immigrant into "Caucasian" mainstream society (Hellwig 103)."

Basically the article observes how Asian-Americans, through the earlier half of the 20th century, attempted to associate themselves as "white" so that they wouldn't be discriminated against. And how, in the later half of the century, the new generation now tries to break free from the foundations of racism the older generation had set up.

Coming from a family where half of the elders look down upon "those people" (i.e. blacks, hispanics, muslims), I can fully relate to what the article speaks of. Hell, I'm almost as white-washed of an Asian as you'll find. Then again, growing up in a neighborhood where the racial diversity consisted of one Indian family, two black families, my lil filipino household, and 50+ white families will do that to you.

To survive those crucial years I had to conform, and those early years have completely shaped my persona. I don't really blame my parents for it all since the entire structure of suburban American society acts like toothpaste that gradually whitens teeth. Still, I get plenty of odd looks when I tell people that I don't find many people who aren't "white" all that attractive. (there's a grand total of 2 Asians I've found dead-sexy)

And then there's the entire subject of my ethnic culture... or lack there of. The most I ever got when I was young, besides hearing the language from my parents, were those really crappy videos rented from the 'cross city filipino video store. Not exactly material that makes you feel a certain pride in your heritage.

Now that I'm older I have been trying to find something to be very proud of from my "motherland"... short of killing Magellan, that is. But it's hard when all you hear in your head are the quips you and your sis make whenever you hear something completely FOBish ("Think about it; the Philippines are Asia's Mexico.")
What makes it a bit worse is that America's whitening tendencies have moved back to that cluster of islands across the ocean. Where you'd normally find fake'n'bake sunless tanning lotion in stores you'll encounter whitening creams. Pop-stars and other young celebrities, mainly the male ones, don't even look pinoy; most of the time they're of mixed ethnicities.

And that brings up the subject of the Asian man's sexuality. Which is really non-existant in the US. Which is ironic since Asian women are almost always depicted as complete sex-bombs. Which is better thought out in this here article.
Is there a point to all this ranting and rambling? Yes. To show that, ultimately, different ethnicities really don't mean much in society. Unless you're a German geneticist trying to build the perfect human (or, in the case of Dark Angel, a French geneticist), there's really no difference between one individual and another.

And despite the power of cultural diversity, it can never fully control people on an individual basis.

... whoo, that made absolutely no sense at all. Gotta stop with the coffee.

. . . . . posted:||8:06 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hmm... Sometimes it's worth it to do a bit of treasure hunting.

Especially when you discover a rather lone thread of Rufus Wainwright slashy stories on his message board.

Tres bien!

. . . . . posted:||3:11 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Another reason to mark August 13th: John Mayer plays on Jay Leno. Hell yeah!

Oh, and Undressed on MTV has plenty of nice/interesting storylines. Far better than last season's.

. . . . . posted:||2:52 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Other notes to add:

The new OLP single is going to be "Innocent," my favorite track from the new cd. August 13th is now on my calendar. Whoo!

Neil Gaiman is a genius. Or a master storyteller. Or both.

Dave McKean stole all of my ideas, but he executed them far better than I would be able to. He's a wonderful artist. And technically he didn't steal em, he just made them before I did.

That is all.

. . . . . posted:||2:42 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hello-moto. ::insert annoying mobile chime::

I feel completely drained and tired at the moment, thank you all very much. Spent much of the day -- well, from when I regained complete consciousness (about 2:00pm) to about 11:00pm -- cleaning house. Why? Sis' old friend from our times in AZ (note: she currently lives in Michigan) is visiting for a weekend. Next weekend.

(side note: So when I woke up I was wondering what the hell was on the tv at the moment. Sis was watching this Disney tv movie with that girl from the Parent Trap remake. Not completely awake yet, I went into the kitchen to see if there's anything remotely edible. My grandma left for 'Frisco at 5:00am that morning so the stove isn't getting the action it normally gets.

Anyways, apparently my dad took grandma's absence as license to cook. And cook he did. Anything edible, no. The vienna sausages were dripping with oil (ew) and the fried egg had a nice attractive dark spot in the center of each. Oh, and that too was dripping with grease.)

Naturally, sis is the most eager to break out the dusters and vacuums and get to work. I reasoned that, since I had absolutely nothing else to do that day, I'd help. Hey, it keeps me active.

Plus, I've had an urge to go mad and polish many things in the house. I'm beginning to think that Pledge put some sort of addictive drug in their lemon polishers because the scent is uber-fantastic. Of course, ten pieces of furniture later the windows had to be opened unless I were to pass out from the fumes. Albeit the nice-smelling fumes.

Re-arranged the room a bit. A very small bit. Mainly moving around the DVD's so that they aren't scattered so haphazardly ontop of the TV. Removed several shite works of ceramic mess that I did freshman year (really, there's only one piece that came out beautifully and one tea set that would've been perfect if the glaze was clean and if I actually attached the spout on so that it wouldn't leak liquid like a soap opera) and some odd bits of... stuff... that my grandma found aesthetically "decorative."

We contemplated moving the hideous doll "cabinet," but the damned thing was far too heavy. Not to mention that we'd have to compensate further by moving the lamp over to the vacant area and that would just compromise the overall balance the room somehow obtained. So the uglyness stayed.

Anyways, there was much gratuitous dusting. I mourned the loss of my favorite duster (and sadly enough I do have one) (hey! it's not everyday you get a duster that can fit into almost every single small crevice!) and instead used a damp and dry rag combo a la Mr. Myagi from the Karate Kid movies.

Polish was added on liberally on the many pieces of wood lying about. While mid-TV-polishing I realized that all the damned thing was was putting a bit of oil onto wood to let it shine. A shrug and then I'm back to work.

Taking out each and every single CD from the massive rack we have downstairs is not fun. Not fun at all.

Much gratuitous vacuuming. We had to repair spots of the pleather couches with duct tape (and thankfully they're all the bottom of the cushions and nowhere noticeable) and used "leather furniture polish" to... erm, polish the leather. Sis even used it on the swirly chair I'm in... and it's a whee bit sticky. Not really though.

At some point we took a slight break for dinner (ready-made shrimp tempura made by dad along with 'shit'ake mushroom eggrolls (salvaged from my short stint as a vegetarian) and rice) and the fumes finally got to me and gave me a headache-major. Took a total of 4 Advil and my vitamins.

Mid post-dinner cleaning the headache struck back with a vengence. I opted to crash on the couches in the living room to nap off the aching, and ended up letting sis to all of the vacuuming for the family room. Dammit, and I'm the big vacuuming expert too! She really did a mediocre job; the track lines made by the vacuum weren't straight, angled evenly and/or properly, and conformed too much to the surrounding furniture. At least she remembered to vacuum the carpet underneath the rug as well as the piece of Cashemere.

After much cleaning, I found myself wanting a brownie or two to do the work. For those who don't know, they're lil brown faeries that do the housework for people at night a la the story about the Poor Shoemaker. And no, they aren't house elves. I wouldn't want one of those ugly buggers in my house.

Sis went upstairs after watching a bit more tv, meanwhile I was busy in the kitchen making food. Needless to say that the tempura tasted like cardboard so I had an irking for nice cuisine. The menu for tonight: herb roasted potatoes with a penne in a balsamic vinegar and herb olive oil vinegarette.

But to conserve money on gas (and I didn't want to bother with all of the oven stuff I'd end up doing) I did much of the cooking in the microwave. Thankfully there was an "Adventures in Microwave Cooking" book lying around somewhere. Then again, this same book had the chicken recipe grandma used that almost gave the family food poisoning. Then again, I wasn't touching any poultry.

So, made my food using very little kitchen-ware (which is good come dish-washing time) while listening to the Discovery Health channel program about feet. When all was nice and cooked, guess what I did?

Why, filipino thing to do, of course. I got small pieces of tupperware for each dish (the potatoes, the herb olive oil (which had the left-over herbs from the potatoes), the tomato-onion balsamic vinegar, and the penne) with a promise to touch em tomorrow for breakfast.

And I'm now convinced of two things. First, the oven really doesn't like me and enjoys in changing temperatures at drastic times. Second, I'm rambling on much too much for this very early morning hour.

Oh, and expect a nice, Dave McKean-esque new layout sometime soon. And yes, Karen, you'll be approving of it. Again.

Adieu, mon ami.

. . . . . posted:||2:38 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Erm... nothing too much to take notice of today. I made the mistake of waking up at 5:00am, so I was fully aware when grandma started dumping all of her worries on me. A full hour straight. With sporatic comments (either to herself or to me I have no idea) for the following three hours. Often I turned to sis and mouthed the words: "what the f*ck is she talking about?!" or "it's too damn early in the morning for this!"

Oh, and I've been playing around with my scanner's capabilities. Kinda like contact prints from photo class but instead it's color and the images aren't negated... Um, I'd post some later but... naw. Well, maybe.

So, here's a survey leeched from A'Lyn's page. Enjoy:
Understanding -

Open-minded -
75% (25% tolerant)

Arrogant -
Hopefully not.

Insecure -
Not 'til recently

Determined -
Once I've begun something

Musically talented -
Yes, but polishing needed

Interesting -

Hungry -
Hardly/a lot

Casual -
Very, unless it's an excuse to dress up

Friendly -
Most of the time

Social -

Socially noticed -
Only in the most inopportune moments

Underestimated -
Not so much anymore

Unmotivated -
Try and get me started on ANYTHING... unless it's for a grade.

Procrastinating -
Three-thirds of the pie.

Strong -
Hey, I like skinny guys!

Special -
Ed.? Not really.

Gifted -
That's what they said in third grade.

Smart -
Let's just say that I retain information

Moody -

Childish -
Rarely, and I pity those around me when I am.

Independent -

Up for a challenge -
Anything to stave off the boredom.

Organized -
Not moreso than most people...

Healthy -
Ha!... No, not really.

Emotionally stable -
Not as bad as other people I know, but I'm no ray of sunshine either.

Shy -
Until I get caffiene/alcohol.

Difficult -
If you annoy me, then yes.

Lacking vocabulary skills -

Attractive -
That's what this upcoming school year will prove.

Aware -
... Is this like being Sure or Unsure?

Bored easily -
OH yeah.

Messy -
Not when I care to be.

Thirsty -
Not often.

Gullible -
Does the word 'jaded' mean much to you?

Responsible -
... I did create all existance....

Obsessed -
Ewan!... Nope, unless it's the cologne.

Angry -
At the moment, nope.

Sad -
As in pathetic? Erm, I hope not.

Happy -
"Born gay, fabulous by choice."

Convincing -

Careful -
... if I remember to be.

Trusting -
Like the French... not easily.

Contradicting -
Technically no if it's one of my many other aspects.

Careless -
If I forget to be careful.

Schizophrenic -
Not horribly, but give me some Schizophonic....

Ill -
No, I am not Illinois.

Talkative -
It's better than my death-silences.

Curious -

Indecisive -
Sis' actions weaned that out of me.

Legal -

Original -
Honey, no one is anymore.

Different -
Just like everyone else.

Unique -
Just like you.

Ignored -
When I want to be.

Reliable -

Content -
Not if I can avoid it; to stagnant is to die.

Optimistic -

Deep thinker -

Self-disciplined -
Working on that (again).

Sleepy -
Only when it's warm.

Lonely -

Mortal -
Heh... silly humans...

Regretful -
Not anymore.

. . . . . posted:||6:31 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Well, this is just my luck. I'm in the midst of writing more in my story (and I had a pretty good tempo going) when sis starts... screaming?... about the mosquito in the house. The -one- mosquito in the house. Albeit the thing was easily one inch big... it's still an effing mosquito. So, the next five minutes has me trying to stun it with a spritz from my lil spray-gun... but that doesn't phase it much. In comes the vacuum cleaner and in goes the mosquito. Yay!

But then sis gets scared about the two cockroaches in the garage when she's putting back the vacuum cleaner (since she gave me a headache with her incessant squealing) so she quickly dumps the Hoover just outside the door before closing the lights and shutting the door.

How she ever ended up being the older sister I'll never know... and ironically she's watching a show on TLC about humanity's interdependence with insects.

But because of that I can't write anymore tonight. (On the plus side, I added about 1,000 words to the story)

Anyways, wednesday was spent at the mall. I was considering not going (to work on that damned commissioned portrait) but I did anyways... and ended up running into five people I knew. First there were Taylor and Sarah (with this boy that I didn't know, but he was play-flirting with me... oh, if only he knew), Steph when I was just oustide Spencers, and Erin inside Urban Jungle. Yeesh.

Scored an awesome Iron Chef shirt (on sale too!) at Hot Topic. I'm really appalled by the "emo wear" they're selling. It's not really emo unless you get it at Savers or any other second-hand store. It's almost as bad as the Philippines-made, brand new vintage rugby shirts. What. The. Hell?

Time to go sleep some. G'night.

. . . . . posted:||12:44 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Trying to escape into the hub of the web... but it's not working. So, off to my room I go to play some Ash rather loudly.

. . . . . posted:||7:23 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
New layouts... argh. I am haunted by them.

I have... five. Count 'em, five different layouts. Two of which feature Tim from Ash, but one of them I'm probably not doing fore two reasons: the tables used produce some shitey/ messy visuals and the pic is a modified copyrighted one. At least the other one is a drawing I actually spent time (read: 3+ hours) doing. Albeit extremely condensed and colorized, but you get the picture.

Erm, no pun intended.

And people these days tend to tell me about things which I already know of. Frankly, it's getting quite annoying.

Grandma (ever the source of redundant info and annoyance) was telling me how caffiene, tea, and coffee keep her from sleeping and raise her heartrate and how I should stay away from it if I want to sleep. Um... how else do I survive all the nights in school where I'm working on major projects?

Then there's the news on TV playing this small feature on the increase of reported self-mutilation cases. Really, the only informative part of the report was that 2001 had twice as many cases reported than in 2000. Everything else (the reasons why, the adrenaline rush, the type of person likely to do it etc.) I have known for quite some time.

"People who cut themselves get an adrenaline rush and sometimes become addicted to it."

Can we get a big, resounding "duh" from the audience?

It could just be me and the company I keep (since I know of at least five of my friends who are/used to be cutters) that has given me the impetus to research a bit, but the repeated info is still very very annoying.

. . . . . posted:||7:14 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
At 4:00am in the morning, I have contemplated:

- that coffee late at night should be reserved for the school season, not during my vacation/holiday

- writing a Harry Potter/Sandman crossover fic (and I have the first 1,600 words down; just waiting for Karen to read what I have so far)

- Neil Gaiman is a true literary genius who can take his talent anywhere from books to comics to screen plays to radio plays.

- no Walmart, Kmart, or Target-esque store carries comics anymore

- there was an abundance of cute punker/skater guys at Wal Mart today

- "with each pound you've lost you've taken a step towards becoming a completely flaming queen" says my sister

- getting odd stares from the store's workers as I wonder outloud which brand of make-up has the better felt-tip liquid eyeliner brush is very entertaining

- shaving my legs again purely for the heck of it

- shaving my legs so that I can say that I'm part of a swim team (ha!)

- sleeping

- ... but then realizing that a third of my life is spent unconscious anyways so there you go

- as much as I love my new boxers, they're far too short!

- stopping this entry before I start revealing progressively bizarre facts into my life

. . . . . posted:||4:34 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Hmm... since I got that quiz about serial killers, I've been doing a little bit of research on Jeffery Dahmer.

And Amreet, you were right. One of the characters in Exquisite Corpse is based after Dahmer, including the incident where the Asian victim was found wandering the streets naked. The Dahmer-esque character's fellow necro-lover is based on Dennis Nilsen, who also used strangulation to kill his victims.

Fascinating... and a bit calming to know that PBZ isn't so twisted to create characters like that purely from her imagination. Then again... she DID write Lost Souls and Drawing Blood.

. . . . . posted:||8:58 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hehehe... until something interesting happens, here's a slew of quiz results.

- - -

I am Willy Wonka!

I am the dreamer of dreams. I am nice, but I am also busy and stressed out so I can be testy at times. Mr. Willy Wonka I am! I own the factory, mind you.

My fate: ?

Which Willy Wonka character are you?

- - -

You are Curt Wilde Ewan!

You're a wild rock star with your own fair share of troubles. You'd rather shut people out than let people in. But hey -- you've got really good taste in boys.

Take The Ewan McGregor Test!

(note: interesting change from Christian the last time I took this test... what's even sadder is that I recognized every single movie quote in the quiz. And it's only been a 2 year obsession.)

- - -

You are Diane!

You're a sassy schoolgirl (note:...?!) who knows what you want. You're determined and you're not afraid to speak your mind.

Which Trainspotting Character Are You?

- - -

You're a fan!

You represent the average Harry Potter fan. You've probably read the whole series once or twice, and you love it. However, you are not obsessed with Harry Potter. You realize that it is fiction and like it for what it is and nothing more.

find out if you are obsessed!

(Did you like the Harry Potter movie?: Yeah, it was good. Not as good as the book though. Sean Biggerstaff, however, made it all worth it)

- - -

You are Dr. Frank N. Furter!

Not only are you a hot dog, you are also a mad scientist, transvestite, and one hell of a lover. You enjoy eye make-up, beating up your butler, and having sex with anyone who happens by.

Which Rocky character are you?

- - -

You are Jeffery Dahmer!

A corpse-hungry homosexual cannibal... but with a lonely heart.


(note: well, who would've seen THAT one coming... ::looks around::)

- - -

You are Nyago!

You are a sweet little tabby cat who really likes to sleep. You also enjoy finding friends to relax with.

Which Sanrio character are you?

- - -

I am Something Corporate!

Find out which band you are!

- - -

You are Adore!

You've had a tough audience your whole life. If you want someone to give you a good word, let's face it, you're going to have to shell out some cash. This doesn't bruise you're spirit though. Everyone's already against you, so you might as well go against them. You're full of emotions and ideas and you're going to get them out anyway you wish, just please, spare us the strip tease and buy the blonde chick some new clothes, preferably ones that are actually made of cloth.

Which Smashing Pumpkins album are you?

- - -

Your rockstar boyfriend is Brian Molko

You and Brian Molko are a match made in heaven! The pair of you make a very glamourous and interesting couple! You're partial to a guy who dons a dress every now and then and isn't afraid to express his feminine side and blur the gender boundaries. You're both very artistic and usually end up writing lyrics which are quite dark and moody.

Who's your rockstar boyfriend?

(note: again, who saw that one coming...?)

- - -

You are Karen Walker

Being Karen means that you have a strong appetite for everything that is luxurious. You depend on the support of your house maid for bringing you all the things you ever wanted. You married a rich man hoping he'd make you a wealthy widdow but are now stuck with 2 little children. The only thing left is putting down other people whilst you give into your obsession with shoes and alcohol.

Which Will & Grace character are you?

(note: Hellll yeeah!)

- - -

You're Lulu.

You seem a little insensitive to those who don't know you very well, due to your cynical nature. Your mind is always thinking of things, big and small. You have a tough time of letting go of the past. You also like to bash people with plushies for fun and then fry them up with some tasty magic~! XD

Take the FFX test.

- - -

And... stopping there before I get further carried away.

. . . . . posted:||8:48 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Can't sleep in the city, you're far away
Cigarettes keep you skinny, and you're mind off the rain...

Sometimes we have these feelings die
Whole years are lost in the blink of an eye
We once had it all but events conspire
Oh, sometimes....

Ash: "Sometimes"

. . . . . posted:||4:21 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Well, to change the subject away from food and dining (unless you're mind is as twisted as mine is) here's something on the subject of suicide.


you're the youngest lisbon girl. you attempt to slit your wrists but fail.
you die during a party... you throw yourself out a window onto a spike.
you were known as the weird one, mystical, precocious.
you like to wear old wedding gowns and listen to celtic music.
what lisbon girl are you?
(brought you by april)

Not quite sure, but wasn't The Virgin Suicides based on the Lisbon sisters?

. . . . . posted:||4:15 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ah! Stop me, I'm on a cuisine fest!

It's 4am and what am I doing? Sleeping, no. Reading a good book, no. I'm at JamieOliver.com perusing the different recipes.

To make matters worse, before that I was researching what types of wines would go well with the mint-pasta dish I was thinking of preparing today. So far everyone's recommending a light white wine.

Earlier today I finished off my rather large batch of sorbet while reading some more HP slashfics (thank you Karen) when I realized that that wasn't such a good idea. Erm... the sorbet, not the fics. I had hardly eaten anything for lunch, and I had almost a quart of nice, cold orange-ness. To cut the descriptions a bit short, I more or less froze my stomach, chilling my innards (and in this case, my heart and lungs) considerably. One would've imagined that the pasta would've helped to incubate the heat, but apparently it doesn't digest as fast as other cabs. So, I had to lie down and curl up into a ball to try and heat myself up again.

An hour of that and I realized that drinking hot fluids would help too... so I did. And it didn't. The hot water only seemed to make it worse, so I was again huddled on the couch rolled up into a ball. To add (some sort of) insult to the injury, one of my cousins was coming over to visit and chat with dad. But I couldn't move a smeg.

At least I hadn't dressed down into my house clothes yet. And when they finally came for a visit, I was sleeping soundly on the couch, not wanting to be bothered. Eeh.

. . . . . posted:||4:03 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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With the complete down-sizing of the former Regeant, I was worried that one of my favorite restaurants would be deeply affected. Luckily, nothing more than a change in business hours has happened to my Ceres Cafe.

Went there after church (where Fr. Kevin had a half hour sermon.... when it's only suppose to be ten minutes or so) and I had fettucini with tomatoes, garlic, mushrooms, olives, rosemary, and... some sort of vegetation resembling spinach but greener and tastier. The dish satisfied the gourmet in me and I could not finish it all. Hell, the rate I was eating/savoring it was slower than sister's. Normally she's the turtle in the family when it comes to food. Not to mention that the atmosphere was incredible. Perfect place for a date dinner as soon as they break out the lanterns, turn off the Enya, and have that pianist play on the baby grand outside.

Afterwards, went home where I practiced more Ash songs. Managed to rub my finger tips raw on the strings, but I can now play second guitar for "Burn Baby Burn" effortlessly. Well, still have to try it with the guitar plugged into an amp.

Taylor called asking 'bout Matt's number, and we chatted about stuff for an hour or so. Mainly discussing the upcoming school year, her first date, DJ's current boyfriend situation, my lack of lovin' this summer compared to many I know, and cooking with under-par ingredients.

So, what shall I do now?

. . . . . posted:||6:10 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Italian breakfast anyone?

Just spent all of five minutes making breakfast: short-stalk spagetti with an onion, mushroom, and balsamic vinegar sauce. Followed with a tall glass of cold water and blood orange and basil sorbet.

I fear for my budget if I ever go on another culinary binge while trying to establish a stable income.

. . . . . posted:||7:30 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It's insane the things that I do so late at night when I'm bored.

Take, for instance, what I've been doing on PaintShop Pro for the past hour. During school Treat was trying to explain the basics of grissalde (painting color ontop of a black and white study) but couldn't due to our significantly shortened time table.

I, however, have managed to grasp the basics (or at least the approach to) using grissalde. In otherwords, I sat on the computer armed with a knowledge of PSP and a knowledge of skin tone color formulae. Grabbed a graphite portrait of Tim that I scanned in and got to work. Several glasses of iced tea later I came out triumphant!

Currently fighting the urge to eat some of that yummy wheat-bread (and yes, I prefer that to white bread) by uping the dosage of artificial sweetner in my iced tea. But, the trouble with being a complete gourmet is in finding something whose taste does not offend. Otherwise you're compelled to stop eating or you swallow down your food to avoid tasting it further by chewing. It's not pleasant, I tell yee! Especially when I like my iced tea... not several days old.

Ack. Sis has got me hooked on Aussie Rules Football. Not only is it as entertaining as professional wrestling (same amount of carnage minus the cheezy characters and unreality) and the sex appeal of an underwear catalog (uniforms consist of different sleeve lengths and really short shorts... which have a tendency to be pulled upon while trying to bring a player down). Oh, and the boys aren't cute. They're effing sex on legs! And well defined legs at that!

Erm, okay time to stop.

. . . . . posted:||4:40 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Erm... tried writing a short and twisted story about Oushi-san, but my limited command of the Japanese language (Nihongo) makes it very hard for me to articulate.

Oh well, you will never learn about Oushi-san and the evil man who cursed him! Haha!... ahem.

. . . . . posted:||10:10 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Surrealism moment of the day:

Oushi wa ueji ni surimashita. Demo, ueru wa maniawase yo.

Thank you.

. . . . . posted:||8:27 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
... Is it just me or do people that go to my school have a tendency to not survive the summer? Just now I heard on the news that a fellow student drowned in Lake Tahoe. Along with the suicide at Stratosphere (which I have yet to confirm) and J's disappearance for a good several months... I have a feeling that faculty will be far more paranoid next year. Normally I could care less about their pleas for our "safety and wise choices," but that also means that the entire art department will be censored far more.

Bad enough about the photos, the gallery show that was deemed unfit because it dealt with sex (even though it wasn't being held as a school function or anywhere affiliated with the school), and the severe budget cuts.

Luckily my more risque stuff is always done at home. But I'll have to cut back on the necro images in my sketchbook until things cool down. Damn.

. . . . . posted:||8:03 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Fer chrissake make me stop!

I haven't had an ounce of sleep in the past... 15 hours. I've been keeping myself busy (go Moony and Padfoot slashfics!) reading stuff online, watching some classic samurai flicks (the Zatoichi series to be exact), and working on new layouts.

So, two pots of coffee, one samurai movie, five long slashfics, and 20 layouts later... here I am.

I'm either running out of ideas for possible layouts (they're all starting to take on the same design) or getting discouraged from using assorted pics of my favorite bands. I've spent about an hour on this particular Ash design only to scrap it when, while searching for a more suitable pic, I read that lead singer Tim hates being refered to as "the cute one."

Could just be the coffee talking. If... coffee... could... talk...?

At least I have no online tests to keep me occupied.

. . . . . posted:||7:49 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
All tests at fuali.com.

I am 69% Tortured Artist
Art is significant in my life, people are scum but I have the capicity to deal with it. Give it a few more years and I will either forget about art or hate the world.

I am 39% Emo
Hmm.. I should stop listening to Dashboard Confessional.... enough said... Now that I stopped looking at my shoes, I know how the real world looks.

I am 55% Punk Rock
The intelligent punk. Tuff and Smart. I may be able to maintain a train of thought long enough... What the fuck was I talking about?

I am 33% Geek
You probably work in computers, or a history deptartment at a college. You never really fit in with the "normal" crowd. But you have friends, and this is a good thing.

I am 81% Goth
24-7 I am a freak. Every day is halloween. The creatures of the night fear me.

I am 48% Internet Addict
I could go either way. Deep into the madness of nights filled with coding CGI-Scripts and online role playing games, or I could become a normal user. Good luck!

I am 52% Ska
Well, maybe I'm trying too hard, maybe I'm not trying hard enough. I shouldn't forget my roots, and remember that punk and reggae wouldn't exist without ska.

I am 39% Metal Head
Most other metal-heads acknowledge my presence, but they laugh at me behind my back. Maybe I need to stop spending all that money on haircuts and invest in a few Pantera T-shirts.

I am 58% Grunge
I am pretty dirty, all right and, I reek of teen spirit... I would sell my own children for a moldy hotpocket, man.

I am 55% Raver
I may not be freaky like those Candy Kids, but I do know how to party. I am well connected in the scene, but may be getting a little tired of it.

.... well, I knew I was well rounded but the results are still disturbing.

. . . . . posted:||12:52 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Cousin's bday wasn't the big family affair that it usually is. Mainly cousin's family, mine, and some other people. Carlo was playing on his Gamecube the entire time so I played a few matches (read: kicked his ass again and again) and then went and chatted with Tita Tess.

Well... As much as I gripe about my family's accent, it could always get worse. Case in point: one of the grandmas that I've never heard about had one so thick and so nasal that I could only understand one out of ten words she spoke. And the only coherent sentence I heard from her was: "you look so sexy now in your new clothes and body and buttcheeks".... what the effing lordy?!

After the dinner and cake (and two more rounds of kicking Carlo's ass) parents dropped sis and I over to the theaters to go watch Signs. Good movie, but they should've made more use of the Hitchcockian dogma for suspense. There were plenty of annoying girls squealing at every given moment and people laughing at them after they screamed and gasped at every single thing that moved.

Movie's done, my headache is leaving, and I'm sleepy and ready to go home. But what does the family decide to do? Go eat. At 11pm. In a FatBurger inside Santa Fe Station. In otherwords, I'm not hungry, I'm sleepy, my headache remains, it's too damn loud, and now I smell of rancid smoke. Not fun.

. . . . . posted:||12:42 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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I guess I was suppose to remember why I wanted to post. Hrm.

::waves:: Hi Amreet! Kinda lost your email and I haven't heard from you in a while.

In an hour or so I have to head over to my lil cousin's birthday party (he's 10 and he's still under 4ft; either he's not drinking his milk or he'll grow to be a giant later) instead of the gallery opening at the antique store downtown. Tch.

What's worse is all the attention I know that I'll attract. Guess I better bring my nightstick to ward off grandmas and other relatives with pinchy fingers.

Listening. To. Too. Much. Ash. It's been a non-stop Ash marathon with my CD player since 2am and now that I'm on the computer I have access to their other three CD's plus their numerous acoustic and live songs.

::switches playlist to Holcombe Waller:: Bingo.

The British really are the only ones who can pull off a Catholic sitcom. Father Ted is effing hilarious, but it follows many other sitcoms: one responsible, "normal" person (Fr. Ted), someone completely off his gourd (Fr... someone, let's say Mark), and someone so completely unlikeable that they're... likable (Fr. John).

Scenario: Fr. Ted's making a dubious phone call to a TV crew who wants to interview him, but he doesn't want anyone else to know so he's behind a curtain talking on the phone. Meanwhile Fr. Mark is moving a statue of Mary outside, and decides to make it "hover" just behind Fr. Ted.

Fr. Ted: ...yes, I'll be about to meet you. See you then. ::click::
Turns around and sees the statue
Fr. Ted: Holy Mary Mother of God!! ::faints::

... either a) you have to have the Catholic upbringing to appreciate it or b) like Shakespeare it's better performed than read.

Uh huh. Well, you can tell I've been playing around with the Sharpies again.

. . . . . posted:||5:24 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Okay, alright! I admit it!

... I love to play dress-up. Not necessarily of the look-I'm-a-pretty-princess variety but more of the don't-mess-with-me-I'm-mafia or hug-me-I'm-glam-rock variety.

Guessing it has something to do with my mom's almost Victorian view of appropriate clothes. There's always five or six shirts that are never touched unless it's an extra special occasion, and not just because they cost as much as a kidney on the black market or are dry-clean only. Like the coconut-weave shirt back from the motherland or the really cool pin-striped vest.

So I've grown up giving importance to clothes.

And besides, it's easier to imagine yourself as something or someone more than just you when you can't recognize yourself in the mirror.

. . . . . posted:||4:44 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
When living in the desert, it becomes easy to appreciate the taste of water.

And painting is not an efficient way to relieve yourself of anger. I wonder how artists are able to paint such rage into images while maintaining complete detail. Scratch that, I know how. But unless you're Pollock, painting on canvas is no immediate process. And if you think it is then you are greatly mistaken.

I need to get a digital camera (no dad, not a DV Camera) so I can satisfy the rowdy photographer in me.

. . . . . posted:||4:32 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Look into my tired eyes, see someone you don't recognize
Binds that can't be untied, oh this is slow suicide
Feelings that I can't disguise, and never will be reconciled
Something inside has died...

-Ash "Burn Baby Burn"

Call it odd of you must, but I haven't felt this alive in ages. Summer has a tendency to keep me sedated and more or less out there. Giving me just enough drive to get out of bed but not enough to realize how much frustration I have. Well, let it out in one large orgasmic rush (of the metaphoric kind).

I'm sorry Karen, Matt. I couldn't keep from doing it again. And again. So sorry.

Praise be to the online journal revolution. Otherwise I would never have known that there are others like me out there that share the same problems and concerns. It makes this lonely planet just that much more reassuring.

Been practicing my portraiture skills in graphite from my Ash DVD. Mainly Tim. I was planning on doing either Chaz or DMH next... but I fell asleep.

I'm so happy I could go break something. The scary part is... I'm not being sarcastic.

Just completely manic.

. . . . . posted:||4:19 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
... Damn. It's August already.

Went to the DMV yesterday to get my driver's permit (again). Hopefully I'll be able to get my license sometime around Christmas. Dad wants to help by enrolling sis and I into a driver's ed. course... starting this saturday. We promptly said no.

Afterwards bought a lot of stuff over at Ross. Well... not a lot, since all of the clothes for men there have brandnames all over them. I did manage to score a knit Hurley sweater, a wooden box that I was going to put my knife in but it was too big for the box, shirts, pants, black socks, boxers that aren't too loose.

Afterwards, came home and watched some Americal Idol before staying up till 6am playing around with some Ash tabs I found. No where near as good as Tim or Chaz, but I'm fairly decent.

. . . . . posted:||3:14 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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