Create Journals
Update Journals

Journals
Find Users
Random

Read
Search
Create New

Communities
Latest News
How to Use

Support
Privacy
T.O.S.

Legal
Username:
Password:

jen (x_ender_x) wrote,
@ 2003-03-31 17:11:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Add to Topic Directory  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry

    Current mood: irritated
    Current music:mewithoutyou // silencer

    don't waste your lips on words i've heard before..
    i just finished watching white oleander.. and i was disgusted. definately the worst novel-to-film i've ever seen. i loved the book and was so excited when i rented the movie this afternoon. i was really disappointed, though. disgusted, rather. the movie gives the book a horrible reputation. i mean, i'm sure if you saw the movie and enjoyed it i can understand.. but having read the book and then seeing it, there really wasn't any satisfaction. oh well. my mother said a lot of movies based on novels are like that, and that directors should simply come up with their own ideas instead of basing it on novels. for once, i agree with my mother.

    school was boring, as usual. my homeroom teacher is a huge bitch.. i was kind of forced to like her because she was nice enough to bump my religion grade from a c+ to a b and my social studies grade from a b+ to an a, but now i dislike her again. she said we had to go to church this morning, and i asked why, and she said 'none of your business.' nice try at a comeback, princess. princess is her nickname because she sports the whole tiffany jewelry collection and carries a coach bag.. she's such a ditz. and it is my business when i'm the one who'll be attending church. so ha.

    i came up with another reason why my principal's a dicator. when she walks in a classroom we all have to stand up nice and straight and practically salute her. it'd be great if we actually did have to salute her.. but we just have to say 'good morning/afternoon, miss simpson.' i hate that fat ass. i hope she dies from lung cancer soon.. she smokes enough cigarettes, heh.

    four days until the weekend.. three months until summer.. fours year until college, plus the rest of this year.. mm, college. i can't wait to get the hell out of here. there's so much of the world to see, and i'm stuck in this stupid town. no one deserves to be here, except the mindless drones who actually think collingswood is worth living in. they make me want to throw a lamp at them. hehe, lamp is a funny word. lamp.

    speaking of colleges, my mom, my sister and i are going up to new york this sunday to visit the college vanessa will attend in the fall. won't that be fun.. i can see it now. it'll start out all nice but then vanessa and my mom'll start talking about what classes she'll take and whatnot and i'll be in the backseat with my headphones on and by the time we get there, they'll be arguing about something and still be pissed about it all throughout the tour dealy and then they'll start arguing again when we get back in the car and then vanessa'll say 'just drop it' and put on her headphones, leaving my mom with no one left to argue with but me. she'll tell me to take off my headphones and ask why she had to have the anti-social, depressed child and then start yelling at me for whatever she can come up with. sigh.

    caitlin fell out of her seat today. that was random.. but it was really funny.

    27 more days until skate and surf..

    -- jen



(Read comments)

Post a comment in response:

From:
 
Username:  Password: 
Subject:
No HTML allowed in subject
 

No Image
 

 Don't auto-format:
Message:
Enter the security code below.



Allowed HTML: <a> <abbr> <acronym> <address> <area> <b> <bdo> <big> <blockquote> <br> <caption> <center> <cite> <code> <col> <colgroup> <dd> <dd> <del> <dfn> <div> <dl> <dt> <dt> <em> <font> <h1> <h2> <h3> <h4> <h5> <h6> <hr> <i> <img> <ins> <kbd> <li> <li> <map> <marquee> <ol> <p> <pre> <q> <s> <samp> <small> <span> <strike> <strong> <sub> <sup> <table> <tbody> <td> <tfoot> <th> <thead> <tr> <tt> <u> <ul> <var> <xmp>
© 2002-2008. Blurty Journal. All rights reserved.