Hello all.

This is me when I've had little sleep for the past 12 hours... which really isn't saying much for normal people, but since I've been sleeping in three hour increments, this is big for me since my scheduel's all screwed up at the moment.

It's entirely my fault though. Earlier today I was looking for the text file with that damned quiz I was working on (going to rewrite it so that there are less possible choices) and I stumbled upon a rather odd (read: descriptive violence and abuse of metaphors) IM conversation I had with Barto some time ago.

I felt that it would be interesting to see if I could sum up any of that old rage in me with several pots of loverly java... If anything, it's making me act even more odd than usual. As in: I've been reading Eminem slash fics. Shoot me, someone. Not Tyler, he wants me to make sweet love to the barrel of his shotgun before blowing my brains out. It's a pity that his ratio is 1:5, boys to girls.

Then I pounded away on the ol' DDR pad for a good hour before I let my sore calves pass out under me. I need to get a new DDR game; the songs are all too damned familiar now. Plus, the pad is shot to hell since it's been folded so often.

Went at HAN's portrait with a painting knife since the acrylic cover I put on the canvas turned out rather rough. That was fun. Covered half of my floor with all the oil paint I used, but it was still fun. Luckily I had my old Blink 182 blanket on the carpet, so the old rag soaked up the paint rightly. Given all the scraping I did, I was surprised that no one woke up. Hn.

Sis and I caught the rerun of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. We laughed our asses off, and enjoyed comparing the members of the Fab 5 to people we know at LVA. I do believe I've found my guilty pleasure for Tuesday nights... and that would make my watching scheduel during the school year almost complete.

Another reason to blow a hole in my head: I'm borderline emo at the moment for the Something Corporate concert tomorrow... erm, today. Or I could turn into a Lilith Fair fan (like how I was during 1995) and break out the Sarah McLaughlin cd. Or I could pull out my own musical valium (my Symphonic Pink Floyd cd from 3rd grade) and get some much needed rest.

... Screw it. I'll listen to my Velvet Goldmine soundtrack and pretend I'm a glam rocker for a few more minutes.

I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Oh! And I should call up people tomorrow and see if their moms still think that I've corrupted their baby boys (who have now... naw, shouldn't say that).