My life in syncopation.

Literary diagram of my life in recent time:

Happy. Happy. Shit. Shit. Happy. Shit.

No gradual descent into happiness or climb to euphoria, it's like fate's decided to go bipolar/manic-depressive on me. In other words, as soon as one good thing happens, at least one thing has to go to shit. From one extreme to another.

Seriously. Today in Art I was really really happy before Sensei Lee told me that Randy won't be in my Japanese class anymore. In otherwords, I'm stuck with Robert "ya-wanna-play-Yugi(shit)oh?" in the back of the room while sensei milks me for all my sempai-teaching skills. Fuck.

About five seconds before the start of class I climbed onto one of the tables by Em's, Cassandra's, and Mike's workspace (in the back by the corner of the room), curled myself into a ball and wished the world away... Followed by me being homocidally quiet during class.

Why must fate throw a wrench in my sockets? Simple. My Lord of the Flies essay kicked ass.

Just... crucify me already; I'm done.

"I used to be catholic, and I'm still never sure I'm having fun unless I feel guilty. Works like a charm."

Sad, but oh so true.

Halley's here!...

And I have absolutely no free time to hang out with him. Damn.

I'm hating homework even more now.

It's been faaaar too damn long since the last time.

. . . . .

This Lea Salonga concert that's playing on ABS-CBN-TFC (aka. the Filipino Channel) is actually pretty good.

A far cry better than her "love songs" album.

And now I think that the over-abundance of filipino ballads can become good once it's played with a full orchestra.

Great stuff.

Ahem.

Remind me to never drink that much water in such a short (yet rather prolonged) period of time.

I don't want to use the toilet as frequently as you want me to be talking about it.

Which reminds me: " and besides, I doubt you want a beachball immitating a human to get you off more than I do "

Chuck: Jake G., the cutey
Tyler: and his sister...
Tyler: two hotties in one family...
Tyler: that would be a bit weird for them, though
Tyler: a threesome... with him and his sister
Chuck: hmm... ew
Tyler: well of course, you're not bi *thwack*
Chuck: how about twins?
Chuck: or triplets
Chuck: like the one in that nokia commercial
Tyler: the more, the merrier?
Chuck: as long as they're cute

... And I've just realized that "Chuck" doesn't really suit me. Much. At all. It's the type of name you give to your beer-guzzling uncle or some anonymous (but in no way attractive) frat boy. Or Kelly's boyfriend.

She's been trying to find me a suitable nickname for months so she doesn't get either of us mixed up. Which she does. Frequently.

Gotta love those emphasizing short sentences.

Now presenting (a rather roughly designed):

Outlines v2.

Since people have been telling me to "get a fucking LJ already!" I did just that.

All hail the mighty cross-postage.

But since I'm not exactly paying for my LJ account, I can't change the layout quite as extensively as I'd like to, so this blog will definitely live on and on and on and on.

Besides, who wants to abandon 1600+ posts anyways?

Barto: Jesus loves you
Chuck: Jesus is under a restraining order
Chuck: the fucker loves me too much
Barto: hahaha
Barto: HAHAHA

Crap. Lots of things have happened that I should write about... but naw.

The Dashboard Concert was good. Well, Dashboard themselves were okay--jesus, I'll never get used to refering to Dashboard as they instead of him--but the other three bands (Vendetta Red, Brand New, and MxPx) rocked completely. Got into VR that night (their recordings are okay, but you have to see them live... and amidst the other screaming masses, Mike) even though the singer DOES look like Krusty the Clown. Brand New, gorgeous as ever. MxPx... oh my cadillac, I got completely beat up during their set. Which is fun, because that's how concerts should always be like (unlike Coldplay with that one stupid whore that I had to stand next to) and I had the added bonus of being all up on this guy from the back. Couldn't help it, the crowd was pushing me forward. Besides, the boy was constantly flexing his ass on my crotch while he tried to push back the crowd.

Sis and I ducked out of Dashboard since that was the fourth time that we've seen them. Hung out by the wall, both of us chugging over-priced water while I had a mint-scented ciggy lit. Before their set started, I felt someone grab my ass and thought: hmm... this feels familiar. Turned around... "Hi Claire." There were so many other people from LVA at that concert that I would never think would be at a concert. Crazy. Dashboard only had two really nice points: everyone "Screaming Infidelities" (but whenever they play that song, it's a given that it'll rock), and their cover of Wheatus' "Teenage Dirtbag" (complete with Jesse singing lead and the almost Jesse/Chris action on stage... damn you "straight" boys). Great.

Lately I've been going into the art room during odd-day lunches because I need to get a lot of my art stuff done... That, and I'm completely unstressed about finding people I can hang out with because cool people (not including 80% of the Art I kids) have their independent study period then.

And speaking of people... Em needs to get with that pretty boy-ness, while Adrienne needs to get happy. Even if it's HAN-style joy. Oh my, oh my. Art was fun since the Kells was off 'round the town with her sister, so we had a sub that didn't bat an eyelash at all the innuendo being slung back and forth between Cassandra's little enclave and the asian T (HAN, sis, and I). Crazy.

I need to do stuff with men... FRIENDS, DAMMIT, FRIENDS... this weekend. And need to look into Faith's next production so I can bother Sarah. It's been far too long since we've hung out.

Junior year rocked so much, social-life wise.

Right, time to listen to more Beatles. Damn you Ripp for getting them stuck in my head all day long.

When I was younger, so much younger than today: I never needed anybody's help in any way. And now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured. Now I find, I've changed my mind; I've opened up the doors.

Listening to Howie Day's cover of "Help." I'm completely grooving on a caffiene pill's worth of coffee and his nifty tunes.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down. And I do appreciate you being 'round. Help me get my feet back on the ground. Won't you please, please help me.

In other circumstances, I'd call myself a glutton for punishment, but I think that I'm more jealous that the both of them are getting action instead of him getting him. Weird. Good weird. But still weird.

And now my life has changed, in oh so many ways. My independence seems to vanish in the haze. But every now and then I feel so insecure. I know that I just need to lie, I've never done before.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) will be such a better day than today. I got my ass kicked by two AP tests and right now my head is reeling. Well, it was reeling, but now it's more like swaying with the music. My dad's probably giving me an odd look, but I can't see because he's not within eyesight.

Dashboard concert at night time. Would be better if I was still as crazy about the band/musician as I used to be, but sis and I are going mainly for Brand New.

I wish Damien Rice and/or Jason Mraz would tour and come to Vegas. That would be amazing.

Oh! And Rufus Wainwright should get his new album out already. Can't wait for that two-disc beauty to get on the shelves.

Right, time to finish this essay and continue my groove in bed.

Another oh! Akins is full of accidental humor: "Reagan was always getting pictures taken of him with an axe and a pile of wood. Do you think he's actually chopping it? No. He's 80; he wouldn't be out back wacking his wood."

Hilarity.

I'm in one of those slow-dancing moods tonight. The kind where you have arms locked around necks and waists and it's not really like you're turning around in circles but that all existence is going around you. Where your senses are severely acute, but not to the point of being uncomfortable, and you still taste the chianti in your mouth, see that sardonic smile even with your eyes closed, smell that alluring cologne lingering on his collar, feel his searing body heat through two layers of buttoned shirts, hear the weeping violins dash into and out of crescendos like the soundtrack to a movie at a specifically poignant moment. And when you tilt, the world tilts with you except for him because you're leaning and holding on to dear life... but not really. And your arms never get numb or tired from having them wrapped around his neck. And the lighting is just right, like many stars trapped in the walls of the restaurant.

It's that kind of dancing. It's that kind of mood.

It's that kind of night.

. . .

Sorry.

Just needed to feel like the romantic that I used to be for one night.

. . .

::stops the Damien Rice that's playing and goes back to his cruel homework::

I apologize again.

This wasn't a very interesting 1600th post, was it?

Here's what I did for an art assignment about interpretive self portraits with a focus on distortion:







The first one is about elementary school, then middle school, and finally highschool.

I wanna take a pic of the experimental tree painting I did for that one-hour assignment. It turned out relatively well. Too bad it's at school at the moment.

This page is just BEGGING for a new layout. Right, lemme find some free time first.

Today was much needed. More so than anything else in recent history (concerts not included).

Despite HAN 2 being an ass and using EVERYBODY (Mike, let's never let him hang out with us unless he's got cash), I had fun.

... playing billiards at Jillians with Mike going "rrowr" everytime I jump on the table to make a long shot...

... everyone cramming into the blue Civic with Em in the "give-Ryan-head" position...

... the cool drag queen working the 7-11 we got gas at...

... Ryan and his constant abuse of Em's ass (despite him completely cruising Mike) (ha! finally, one of my chick friends can feel the pain I go through every-other day)...

... Underworld with it's crap execution (cinematography was excellent, shots stolen from The Matrix aside, story had potential, etc.) but numerous slash possibilities (heh, wonder what would happen if Em and Mike were with me when I saw Pirates of the Caribbean)...

... timing our jumps on the elevator...

... Ryan being part of this "family" to get his ticket for the movie...

And so on and so forth.

Now... ::collapses::

It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase.

... is what I kept telling myself. But hey, it's been almost two years (the inaugural act having it's second anniversary this December) and I still haven't stopped.

Matt, if you still read this (which you probably don't since everyone knows your penache for short-term memory loss), yes I know I'm being cryptic. And don't try to help.

I'm doing everything wrong again. Well, no... not quite true. I've been doing THAT thing all over again. (heh, Hampton would SO kill me if she read that last sentence... but hey, she did like my essay when we went over it together before I typed up the final draft) It's a bit like sophomore year all over again, but change the names around a bit. Fuck.

Hell, what am I talking about? I welcome drama right now. Bring it on, you cruel soap opera of a world! This way I know that some of my friends' problems will level out. The more problems I have, the happier everyone seems to get.

Casey needs to strip skin off of my arm more often. That was fun... but next time I'll have him do the left arm since it's hard to draw with a numb right hand. Who knew that wooden rules could break skin?

Had to do some insane reprogramming and directory-correcting to get all the bugs out of the new Netscape 7.1. Before it wouldn't let me view all them nifty flash pages (including the ever awesome Orisinal page) so I threatened it with a shotgun. Tanoshii...

Ah. "Summer Romance (Anti-Gravity Love Song)." Getting flashbacks of past summers and... simpler?.. times.

"...the end of the never-t-be-forgotten day at the end of the unremembered year."
- Dylan Thomas

That it was.

Need to start a'crackin' on that art thingy. Who knew I had so many effing pieces from four years of work? Wait... scratch that: who knew I had so many effing pieces of shit from four years of work?

Stayed after today to help paint the school gallery again (detailing and touch-ups). Ran a close encounter with a (male) black widow before Michaels gave it brushy-death. And... yeah. Need to stop lusting. Lusting is bad. Especially when the guy's a couple years YOUNGER than me.

So much for going for mentally-stable guys.

I need to stop watching The O.C.. Too many ideas...

::ends completely pointless post::

Wait for it...

wait for it...

Now!

::cues the chorus::

HALLELUJAH!

Yes.

Holy shit.

I'm witty when I'm not hungry.

Go me.

This is what I think about whenever I'm stuck working on an essay in my room to escape all the distractions of the downstairs...

My queen-sized bed is bare, save the bed side and a congregation of papers, notes, and folders fanned out in a nice semi-circle of organized, easy access. Well, it was organized until he's pushed me down into the bed. And his lips are on my neck. And we're flailing our arms around looking like Shiva making a snow angel, trying to get all the papers and notes and folders off the bed so we don't have to worry about papercuts in unusual places.

So I'm pinned underneath 150 lbs. of hotness, licking sugar off of his lips from the dried mangos that we had, and MY GOD am I distracted. At this point all thoughts about Ralph and Jack from Lord of the Flies are flying out of my head (except for the one that tells me that they'd SO fuck if Jack wasn't trying to kill Ralph) as his hips are crushing against mine and are moving in slow. strong. circles.

Then my hands are making figure-eights in his hair while I can feel a hand or two or... god, how many hands does this boy have?!... traveling up my shirt and playing with my now flushed skin. Somewhere, inbetween those grasping moans I realize that this time they're traveling downwards...

THAT's when I wake up, drooling dangerously close to my copy of the book. Damn Anias Nin and her Delta of Venus, I'm getting even more ideas than I usually do.

How I'm going to survive this class, I'll never know.

In other news, I get to sing at church today! I pity Sarah having to suffer the tone-deaf pinoys singing at St. Joe's. One of those myths about filipinos: we can all sing. Not true: we THINK that we can sing. There're still very few that can actually sing, but unfortunately that doesn't discourage the vocally inept ones from dishing out such flatulence.

Look Hampton, I'm alluding to Ender's Game! -_-;;

Sarah, we need to talk/hang out more often! And I so would've snuck out of the house with the car to watch your performance yesterday had I known that the 'rents would be out for 14 hours.

It's the second anniversary of 9/11, and befitting the tone of the day, I wore my ranger vest (despite dad insisting that I look like a terrorist) and, in the morning, found my scratchboard piece that I did for the first anniversary a year ago.

Does anyone else find it odd that today was the first time in about six months that the name Osama Bin Laden has graced the morning news?

Lots of bad stuff and lots of good stuff are happening at the same time. Joy.

One funny part: Michaels participating in "chicken-style jousting" with the Goubald brothers and Ode. Hilarious; my already suffering abs became even more sore from all of the laughing.

One bad part: stress times ten! I need to completely rework my essay on Lord of the Flies, since I got my prewrite back and Hampton wrote everyone but "this thing's shit" on it.

One anxious part: government test tomorrow. Enough said.

One relaxing part: sis doesn't have anything overly stressful to do for Studen Council for another month and a half or so.

One disappointing part: I think Mike knows, so now he's pitying me. Hoooo...

One unusual part: first Randy tries on my red sunglasses to see how he'd look, and then he gets upset when I said that I wouldn't go out with him even if he were straight. Riiight.

Time to get to work.

STRESS! (thus this entry will be short)

Got to see my art teachers in a new light today afterschool: they're MATCHMAKERS. And not the suave, slyly working their influence on other people type of matchmakers. More like calling moms on the phone and saying "Hey, I have a special secret to tell you! So and so thinks your son's HAWT." Gotta love 'em.

Those damned dress code skits are finally OVER! ::dies::

Now to work on all that backlogged homework... shite.

Oh, but I have been having odd dreams lately. It reached a sort of zenith two nights ago when I dreamed that I was looking through this photo album of little children, and at some point the happy, smiling littluns started showing up dead in the pictures. At that point I was racing through the album trying to "save" the dead children by chasing this... thing... through the photos.

Odd.

Goddammit, why must all the cute boys ask me to be their punk rock princess?

Tyler is now the sixth one on the list...

Yes, ladies and gents (you can blame Mike and our mutual obsession with The O.C. slash), I'm back in that mood again.

Effing hell...

Brett deserves muffins, backrubs, cash, and all sorts of other goodies.

My hands need massaging after that nearly two hour piano lesson.

This thing needs a new layout.

My stressors are killing me. I was ready to wring Catherine's neck this morning since I had to get to school at a relatively early hour, and she decided to burn a CD of songs for student council AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT. Normally I just bring out the "I effing told you to do this before," but this time the stress got to me and I started laughing hysterically for a while. No real reason.

So yes.

Stress level peaked during lunch so I hauled ass to the student store to chat/flirt with DJ while I got some mini M&M's for Emily. We went on and on about miscellaneous stuff including: Vlad from CAMP, this cute kid with a bleached mohawk, school thus far, the evil that is Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Shitcoat, etc. Much fun.

We drew feet in Art. Joy. HAN, Athenas,... this other kid whose name I can't remember (he entered our class this year), and I were sitting in the hallway having a foot orgy. Very funny stuff.

I... need to do stuff... Oh yeah! Practice for piano. One problem: my right wrist is hurting painfully. Urgh.

Spent $40 on this kick ass black ranger jacket. And, because the Tyler commands it...



I'd post the other photos, but they got excessively goofy.

Now to tackle that damned AP english homework before I curse Shillingstad until I sleep.

Dammit, other people should listen to Billy Talent.

Which is odd given my recent trip down glam rock lane.

David Bowie, Showaddywaddy, T. Rex, and Gary Glitter? Oh my. I'm in love.

I seriously believe that my grandma has a death wish. Just now, since we're apparently getting visitors this afternoon (Christy, the filipino nurse who used to live with grandma before we moved in), she was moving around some heavy furniture at an inch a second. I realized what she was doing after about an hour of curious shuffling, so I had to intervene. There's no way in hell that I'll be implicated for her death... even if it is by neglect.

Sort of along the same lines (thanks to her rampant Catholicism), I had a weird dream while I feel asleep in the middle of this documentary about Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars: basically I'm sitting at this weird office place trying to talk my highschool into giving me money for college. They denied me because I didn't plan on going to a Catholic college/university. What the hell?!

... Writing stories in round is fun, until you get writer's block and can't think of anything else to put down. So I gave up prematurely to go work on Government homework. Currently wishing that people are online so I can talk to them. Note to self: be more sociable, but don't be a flirt whore. Get your appreciation from your smarts and arts, not because you flatter without reason.

My lips have been unusually dry recently. Ugh. I hate changes in diet.

This morning I did some lite exercise to help out with some of that stress I've been building up. Sis should try it sometime.

Heh. I wonder, Mr. Objectivist, how your anti-pity philosophy holds up when it's about a family member that you care about severely. Right, let's not go there.

I'm guessing that this online dating/personals only works when you're older, living alone, and in a larger city.

"I" count: 15

...

Can't spill the juicy details. However...

After finding out about that entire love dodecahedron/soap opera, I'm completely glad that I'm not one of the conventionally pretty boys at LVA.

It's like the swinging 60's never ended.

Here's to being drama free for almost 6 months!

I need a shot of adrenaline. This house is far too warm to let me focus on my work. Every time I crack open the books I get all sorts of drowsy.

And people should talk back to me instead of letting me carry on a one-man conversation for a good ten minutes before giving up and returning to the boredom.

So much for initiative.

I think I'll take a shower to cool off and attempt that Calculus homework one more time.

The more I think on it, the more I realize how pathetic I can get. No, don't think along that vein; that leads to all sorts of self-depreciation and badness and such... Alright! So, kismet sucks. This is referring back to my theory of the whole happiness-balance thing I have going...

Scratch that. Everyone's been acting out of character tonight. Maybe it isn't just me. There's Tyler who may FINALLY get some physical action in a hot tub (even if the dead bodies get in the way), Matt who actually calls one of his old friends without (much) previous prompting, Karen who wrote a very funny (and oddly cute) Harry Potter 3-panel comic, Brett who did stuff with a girl, Catherine shirking her duties to watch BET (BET! She doesn't even like 80% of the music/shows they have on that channel!), Randy acting gay with my red sunglasses, etc. At this point I'm ready to grab a tube top and sell myself on some random street corner... yeesh.

So, pretty boy is suffering while he confesses everything. And pretty soon he'll figure out he can never get him out of his head. Today I let far too many clues slip that I like Mike. Namely: mentioning something about what he ate during lunch (which was valid since he and Kimi stopped right infront of my table--literally right infront of me) and then something about his ass and... yeah. Grrr. He was suppose to be my ride to First Friday tonight, but then everyone else that was suppose to come with us in the same car cancelled at the last moment, so I had to opt against it since... Well, the two of us, alone, in a car together... Can you blame me for getting ideas?

Right, time to focus on the good.

Hampton is really loving my period's Lit. Comp. AP class, and so am I. We had a lot of fun dissecting the allegories (and inverse allegories) of the Lord of the Flies, even made Hampton do her happy dance when we broke out the biblical references and Freudian allusions. Score!

Also in that period, HAN and I started writing a story in round. It's basically religious satire where God is a bit of an air head and, after accidentally Falling himself, tries to pass himself off as a prophet. The story is actually quite funny... but damn, she still has the copy. I'll have to bother her for another one.

I'm being bothered by the administration to make an ass of myself infront of the entire school to do a skit about dresscode! Friggin' A. For some reason they think I'm part of Student Council... when really I was just a big-ass volunteer. Which I still am. Damn, I should've never volunteered in the first place.

Everyone likes my candles in art. I'm happy. Still need to work on it, but yeah. Today we had Killian (graduated last year) talk about his portfolio complete with the slides and the five quality pieces. Which was cool. Then afterschool, Michaels was hanging out with her boyfriend Chuck (still effing hot, even if he was wearing Nike everything) and then got tackled by at least six former students. It was entertaining.

Ah, funny HAN stressing over the SATs. Pretty soon she'll pull a Jessie from Saved by the Bell and get addicted to "caffiene pills." As much of a friend she is to me, I'd pay good money to see that.

Milan was at school yesterday. The boy is STILL hot. Yep yep.

One more thing before I surrender the computer to sis: the more I learn about Bush's tax policies and "gentlemen C's" from Yale, the more I'm beginning to dislike his policies.

So does pop, if the 10% increase in tuition has anything to do with the recent deficit, tax rewritting, and lack of government aid to colleges.

As I wrote in my notes: BLAME BUSH FOR ALL MY COLLEGE WOES!!

And also: MADISON IS A FLAMING, SLIPPERY GENIUS.

I love that class.

Long time no post.

As usual, school has been miring me in the wet concrete known simultaneously as homework and procrastination material. Right now I'm cracking down on one last criticism for human nature in The Lord of the Flies, and so far that's coming along just fine. I'm a bit sad that the class is working on the book that I enjoyed reading (as opposed to 1984, the other summer reading assignment) since I know that the rest of the year's material won't be as fun. Case in point: we're reading Wuthering Heights. Don't get me wrong, books by the Bronte sisters are amazing. However... if I have one more girl in my class go gushy-eyed at the mentioning of one of their titles (or talk about watching the movies based on the books every weekend) (... or about how so-and-so in the story is SO hot) I'll have to break out with the rusty knife I threatened Rachel with two years ago. The class is still loads of fun.

Now, Statistics homework on the other hand... god that was hell. Not tonight's assignment (since it's only a front page), but last night's was four pages of tedious goodness. Seriously. The questions were easy enough (no actual math yet besides some percentage to number conversions), but the fact that we had to write it in complete sentences... that part took me a while. Damn, I forgot to ask the teacher if I could type out the largely non-mathematical assignments. My hand is going to suffer more torture, apparently. I'm not one of the lucky people (::coughKARENcough::) who can write without looking at the paper to ensure straight, neat lines.

I'm practically finished with my transformation piece (turning a word into a realistic image of the word) in Art. Go me. So... I'm spending much of my free time drawing up thumbnail sketches for the series of Modern Men in Mythology paintings I've decided to do for the ARTSAwards competition. Today, during class, I got several reference shots for my Atlas piece. I need to coerce friends into posing for me... but I need guys to do it (otherwise I'd have to knock down a few busts and add a package here and there). Given my lack of guy friends in LVA that I see outside of classes... yeah. That'll be difficult. Tottemo muzukashii.

Speaking of, Sensei Lee is pretty cool (yells alot, but that's partily his predecessor's fault) but he's pretty sarcastic. About as sarcastic as I used to be freshmen year. Which is bad. Not as bad as eigth grade; no one has been able to top that period of seething monotony). At least Randy and I are enjoy the fact that we can sit in the back of the room and not be bothered for most of the period.

Maintaining the Asian train of thought, just finished watching Lan Yu. Good move. Very good movie. I'm only halfway through the written story (and severely mistrusting the translations, but I can't read Mandarin so I'll have to make do) and the film is pretty faithful to the original. The unconventional cuts are a little bit unusual, but once you get used to them, you see how effective they really are at crucial moments of the story. Nice.

You know who's also nice? Dolphin. Aka: Moose, Q-Tip, and an assortment of other nick names. Yep, ladies and gents I have a lunch with him in it again. Learned some interesting facts about him from Nikki (he's one of those great, yet fairly uncommon, dance majors who is an over-achieving, high grade addict) and from other people (he's also a big fan of The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Yay.

I have to read that book again sometime. Recently, since the end of last year, I've been trying to keep in contact with Matt and since he's busy with forensics (and the drama that entails being in forensics... damn, all those gay men in that class? I'm glad I'm not taking it) and he hates using phones unless absolutely necessary. So I've been writing letters for him to read at his leisure (actual letters; the stamps in the drawer are rejoicing now that they're being used), all very Charlie from Perks like.

And people named Charlie or Chuck shouldn't be closely associated with me. Like Kelly's new boyfriend Chuck (who is in his mid-twenties yet looks like a 14 year old... and apparently sounds like it too). I was hanging out with the art teachers after school, and Dokken was talking about Mary Queen of Scotts (with her husband's death-by-dynamite), so Kelly started talking about how that should've happened to her (now ex)husband. Funny.

Then there's Cookie with her obsession over unusual church relics (like the preserved heart of a priest somewhere in Canada) despite the fact that she's a liberal Jew.

Let's not even get started on "things," everyone's cherries, and smelling like an Egyptian Goddess. Ah, hilarity hilarity.

I need to talk to Halley and see if he wants to come visit once his car (dubbed Shinobu) gets out of the maintainence garage.

...

Tried writing some bits of this post in Japanese, but typing in romanji for that stuff is odd... and far harder than I thought.

I think I'll reserve my extensive use of Nihongo for class assignments. Besides, only Tyler is willing to hanasu-koto with me for an entire conversation, but when we both run into vocabulary that we don't know... things become difficult.

Not to mention that I don't know how to properly sekuhara shitai since I use the polite/honorific forms almost exclusively.

I need people to be my sekusutomo.

But I've been saying that for the past couple of entries. Damn.

My luck run-ith at a low cusp. This is probably/most likely/definitely due to either my lack of initiative or my semi-high expectations. Friggin' a.

At least today wasn't as bad as that spell that I had last night. Grrr-ness. But fun grr-ness:

Tyler:: heh, I read that as "eating rice with my face" for some reason
Chuck:: ...
Chuck:: shit, and I had the damn thing in check up until now...
Tyler:: what thing?
Chuck:: ::blanche::
Tyler:: oh, libido?
Tyler:: how was my statement triggering?
Chuck:: rice = asians
Tyler:: OH!

Tyler:: *slaps hand* Bad Tyler!
Chuck:: ::blinks::
Tyler:: no more saying too kind things to alex!
Chuck:: ::smack::
Chuck:: yes!
Chuck:: ::smack::
Chuck:: ... I'm enjoying this
Chuck:: ::smack::
Tyler:: *bends over*
Chuck:: ::spank::
Chuck:: lemme grab a Discipline
Tyler:: punish me more!
Chuck:: ::whip::
Tyler:: I've been a bad, bad boy?
Chuck:: yessssss
Chuck:: ::whip::
Tyler:: Should I start calling ye master?
Chuck:: ooo.. nice touch
Chuck:: sure, why not
Chuck:: ::whip::
Chuck:: bad cocktease! bad!
Chuck:: ::whip::
Tyler:: I prefer being bitten to being whipped, however...
Chuck:: that can be arranged
Chuck:: ::nibble nibble nibble::
Chuck:: ::CHOMP::
Tyler:: O.O
Tyler:: at first I read that as ::nipple nipple nipple:: ::CHOMP::
Chuck:: ...
Chuck:: sure, why not
Tyler:: brings cute mental images to... well, my mind

Tyler:: hum... I've never been a cocktease before...
Tyler:: this is kinda fun
Tyler:: I now understand why those damn women are so cruel

And THAT was all last night...

Today we had plumbers knocking holes into the walls to find that elusive hot water leakage problem we've been having (and I was right, the water was emptying into the ground). There were three. While eating a late lunch/early dinner, I overheard the loudest of the three talking about the extra holes they made in the walls.. that they really didn't need to do. Thankfully, they're repairing said holes otherwise I'll have to launch silverware their way.

School work is still kicking my ass. At least Michaels liked the portrait thus far.

Got an idea for a series of modern-day Greek myths paintings. More on those later.

... and I've been squishing miscellaneous bugs mid-air all night long. Grandma needs to buckle a bit and give the exterminator a call. Yep.

I'm not an annoyance...

Ureshii.

A couple of interesting things to happen during these past few hours.

Grandma trying to haggle over the phone for a cheaper price on a gas/electric measurer... then dad subsequently trying to talk her out of her recent string of sub-breath cursings.

After failing rather miserably, he took the car keys and went for a drive.

I have newfound respect for God (aka. Amanda the Sea Sponge).

Tyler is one of the worst cock teases ever. Worst meaning he's damn good at it. Of course, half of it is my fault as well, but shhh, don't tell him that.

Mike has agreed to let me do him sideways till springtime (sans bucket of broken glass)... Oh ho ho, if only he knew how serious I was being.

I haven't touched much of my homework at all these past three days. Erm... go me?

Right, back to nursing my condition.