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Anyway... I'm not that screwed... even though I DID fail the first quiz, its not too bad cause its the first one in the trimester, so I have plenty of time. Got off with no lecture at all, but I really do have to start seriously mathing. D: Oh, how I loathe geometry. I wish I had part of Panda's brain... the section with the math genius, not the pervy prodigy. Maybe the piano pwnage skills as well. These first two days have been nothing but BAD LUCK. "The Bad Luck Trio" copyright Subeta.
Sigh. Too much badness. Must be the hair cut. Mom didn't pay enough tips, so they took my brains and my memory for the bargain.
Today's Book Reads: Unwind by Neal Shusterman
Yeah, I'm doing the LI thing with Vicky and Diana and who knows who else. Insomnia, by Faithless? Dance moves by Weesung + troupe.
G'night, Sunshine, F-ailing Asian kids-turned-zombies, Korean Insomniac Dance Troupe, Panda's brain, loyal readers. Until we fail again!
Lol, if you haven't noticed my stat today, its: Sometimes the Fairy Godmother gets a bit tipsy, and you end up with blue hair and blonde eyes. Not very appealing or flattering, hmm? Anywho, my stat yesterday was: Free Shipping = Slow Shipping, which was not true at all because today I recieved my fabric and was WHOOT. Other things today that were NOT WHOOT AT ALL ARGHES BANGS HEAD ON DOOR. - awful mile + awful cramps - undecided weather - the fact that the fabric has to be washed, dried, and ironed before I can make any moves - the fact that my CM test is on the 21st and I have to hurry hurry hurry and practice practice practice because if I fail the test, I have to take the level six one over again and that will be the end of my sad, piano playing life - my Wicked accompaniment is wicked bad (haha, knee slapper -gets arthritis-) - the poor dead bird on the second tennis court who, apparently, either crashed into a pole or spontaneously exploded, showering the whole court with feathery and gutsy bits - bad posture - my bad habit of being very noncommittal: i.e. certain crafts, ideas, writing splurges, self hate, self idolization (very noncommittal), boys (not really my fault, I'm not old enough to be committed with that sort of shixz), food, organization, schoolwork, running, etc etc etc etc.
D: Yeah, pretty depressing, huh? But its a good thing that I've got this blog because then I would be off writing it into my depressing and soppy diary, except for the fact that when I am writing it it doesn't look depressing OR soppy. And then I get disinterested because who the heck is reading my diary anyway?? So I have this. Being on the dahling PC is lurvelier than writing in variant script, rather slowly, rather weirdly, rather not. Dunno if anyone is reading this at all, but Livia asked, and I rather owed her a little favor for...um... something long long ago that I forgot and don't have the heart to make up right on the spot. Oh yeah, this is where I spew my rantiness instead of plaguing everyone and pissing off my dad by chatting online.
Speaking of my dad, did I tell of my new "dating policy" according to dearest papa? Obviously not. Ok, here's the plan: I don't date until I'm twenty-three, period, and if I do, the guy must be more intelligent than I, taller than I, more masculine than I, and able to wield a pair of chopsticks with surprising agility and grace. I say: poop and pizza crust, no way am I going to be a 23 year old dating virgin. I'd probably divorce my first hubby in a span of three months, the way I'm going (refer to paragraph one, line... uh... second to last). So there. And don't give me any snowcones about being too young, twenty three is too old to start learning this particular subject properly and prone-free.
In going with my daily poem of choice, feast your eyes.
Memory Quilt I gaze upon my recollections, in patches of red, yellow, chartreuse. Each memory follows the other- And the stiches are not loose.
Little poem made up on the spot. Because guess what the forementioned fabric is for--- a quilt! Today's Book Read: Girl, 15, Charming but Insane by Sue Limb
Its funny. Lehao figured that out. Another funny thing-- Irene's book talks in one section about a woman who predicted that she would be burned in the Salem witch trials. When the people came to take her to the stake, she stuffed her dress full of explosives, so when they lit her on fire, the whole town was destroyed. Smart lady. If only our brains functioned so brightly.
To: Loyal followers of the written rant, spaghetti shape design graduates (I just KNOW that there must be people who do that), the poor dead 'ploding birdy, pervy eighth grade male degenerates (you know who you are), people on the "Have You Seen Me?" milk ads, and lastly, our friendly local hippo. I sympathize that you have all befallen the same fate as I, with a Fairy Godmother that obviously messed up when designing her latest human prototype.
Yeah, it like, hailed. For five minutes. And it turned the Eighth Grade Hallway (yes, caps) into a little battleground. Complete with Sean screaming, "OMG HAIL OMG HAIL OMG". So there were these little teeny bb-gun ice pellets splishing and splashing everywhere, little bombshells that melted upon contact with the ground. Some of them weren't easily detonated, straying on the floor, people's hands, mouths, hair, backpacks, etc. We were all like, "Wow, it hasn't hailed in the longest time, so YAYs and stuff," and telling each other random hail anecdotes. Tony and the rest of my people looked at the marbleless Sean in disgust, remarking that Sean was such a wuss. I'm afraid that I have to agree. It began to hail harder, so we piled under the open sky and danced and yelled and behaved childishly and crudely and basically enjoyed ourselves like we should. Indian war whoops. AUTHENTIC Indian war whoops. Then it started raining, big fat drops that were probably hail bullets until about five meters from the ground. The bell rang, so we filed back to class. Ms. Mellentine was all like, "At first I thought there was an armed gunman on campus, cause there was all this screaming EVERYWHERE, but then I looked outside." Really. I was thinking more along the lines of acid rain, considering the weather, but whatever. My dad says that when he was my age, it hailed baseball sized little killers.
So I had this haiku I made a couple days ago about rain, cuz its been cat'n'doggin for a while now.
A growing rhthym I turn my head to watch as The road paints black
You know, because when it rains, the black asphalt turns REAL black.
Oh yeah, Imma start to put my book reading stuff on here in case you get bored and stuff and need your everlasting friend, DRUGS!!! OH GOD, I MEAN BOOKS. BOOKS, PEOPLE. Today's read: East, by Edith Pattou
Hail, Chief, loyal followers, brainwashed sheep, random druggies intrigued by my brief allusion, mad hobo gunmen in dilusionally searching for McDonalds on school campus (that's a story for a later date, remind me ;] )
This is my lament. A real lament this time. Like. It was an iTouch, you know? Pretty pricey around the edges. Pretty neat and apps and stuff. Pretty free. Okay, here's the story:
Dad works at Cisco. Cisco had this thing where it would give all its 10 year employees a little Apple mp3 for sticking around with them so long. This year, it was my dad's 10th year, and the prize in the golden box was... DING DING DING an ITOUCH!!!! :O I know. Drown in its awesomeness.
And then. MARKET CRISIS!!! -makes exaggerated hand and body motions depicting giant mud slide- -slumps on floor, quivering uncontrollably while frothing at mouth- So, Cisco no longer has the little extra happy money to spare for its loyal worker ants, no blame at all there, since its better this than my parents getting layed off. No money = no iTouch. -twitches on ground-
On a Happy Note, here is Jasmine Su's Awesome Haiku About Bush (edited by moi since I cannot remember it properly)
-coughs- Drumroll, please? DUDNDUDNDUDNDND
Bush One man's destiny Was to bring peace to the world Instead, he brought war
Doesn't that little ray of sunshine totally sum up our beloved former president's, well, presidency? It also has the proper haiku techniques: it's deep, the title adds surprising insight, and it's like... cool. Really, if she didn't title it "Bush", you'd probably wonder if it was Julius Caesar, or maybe Chris Brown.
You're welcome, Livia, Loyal readers, FBI agents scouring blogger for hate mail, etc.