[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
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|Monday, September 8th, 2003|
Never underestimate the element of surprise.
There is always somewhere to hide, just not a means of getting there. Current Mood: blahCurrent Music: Queen
|Saturday, August 30th, 2003|
A stereotypical first thought about airplanes would be the complimentary bag of peanuts, and if not peanuts, pretzels. It's a constant: you ride an airplane, you get peanuts. Well I was on a plane for 3 hours last week and didn't see a SINGLE bag of peanuts, pretzels, OR PARTY MIX! How disappointing...
|Wednesday, August 6th, 2003|
Ebb You Sea of Raging Hormones
Why do all the milestones in life have to occur over the span of about ten short years? How come the time between incidents can’t be extended? IT would give us something to look forward to apart from ‘Over the Hill’ after 21.
I spent a lot time in middle school wondering just what it would be like; not being able to wait till it was my turn; until I was old enough. And now I find it is my turn- and I’m afraid. I look around me and people are losing their virginity left and right. Or so’n’so just gave her first blowjob, and I wonder to myself, am I really ready for this? Will I ever get my chance? Can’t I just get it over with? IT would be so easy to just skip over these years. About the age of 10 we go on mental trips away from our bodies, and however many years later we return to ourselves. And we’ve done everything, tried everything. Nothing to worry about, no dwindling embarrassment because we don’t remember it. No reminiscing of fumbling in the dark the first time and that first taste of womanhood- painful.
I remember wondering every Friday night if that was going to be the night I got my first kiss. It got to the point where I didn’t even want it to be special anymore. I just wanted to be done with it. I wanted to get over that first milestone so I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. And I finally did. On a Tuesday just before school got out behind the curtains in the theater. And I haven’t kissed another boy since him. And I feel like I’m missing something. I know how Zach kisses, but how does Jay kiss? What is this thing my mom describes as ‘it’s as if they’re tasting you’. Have I felt it already? How come I can’t have five years tween time where I can get the kissing thing down pat and then move below the neck…below the waist? Life would be a lot less pressured if the sea of raging hormones wasn’t as high tide our entire high school experience.
|Wednesday, July 30th, 2003|
My brother is currently pondering over the logic behind the name of pokemon's main character Ash Ketchum, and why the song begins "Gotta catch 'um all! Gotta catch 'um all!"
...Does anyone have a dull ice cream scoop handy? Current Mood: annoyed
|Sunday, June 29th, 2003|
Just what would an orgy of colors look like?
|Saturday, June 28th, 2003|
|And isn't it ironic?
Which is more ironic? Going to the sunglasses department and trying on your own sunglasses, or going to a coffee shop and bringing your own coffee? Current Mood: weird
|Friday, June 27th, 2003|
|Burn Me Pink
Ever feel like all sunscreen does is get you burned even more? I went to the beach today, and beforehand, I put on sunscreen like any good porcelain-skinned girl would do. It was cloudy most of the time anyway, and I was like, "ok...oo-rah!" I get home, take a shower, wash away the beach look and sand. And when I get out, it looks like I'm still wearing my bikini top. So in the 10 minutes the sun was out, it pierced through my 'sunscreen' and turns my chest and face lobster red. I prefer tickle-me-pink. But it's perfect, I can lift my boobs and find the perfect line that goes between my breats and around my back. It's crazy. I guess falling asleep with my arms above my head was a bad idea huh? SO anyway, now I can't sleep on my stomach -or- my back comfortably! Scientists say anything above 30 spf doesn't work...I think they should change it to 15! Or hell, why don't they just come out and say that all sunscreen does is kill all your UVray immunities and puts up a big sign that says "GIVE ME SKIN CANCER!" right across your forehead. Or maybe "OPEN FOR DISCOLORATION". *huffs and wanders off to apply aloe vera liberally* Current Mood: hot
|Thursday, June 26th, 2003|
|Little blurp of a story...
"The old ones tell stories about how trees stretched so far a squirrel could jump from the east coast to the west coast in nect to no time. Now, the only trees you see are in holograms, and high class society. They say the states are so packed you could run from one side to the other without ever touching the ground..." Current Mood: artistic
|Saturday, June 21st, 2003|
What're boy bands like NSYNC and Backstreet Boys going to look like in 60 years? *grimaces* Current Mood: distressed
|Friday, June 20th, 2003|
The Adventures of a Rock Star Soap Opera
Thursday June 19, 6:45 pm
It’s been three days and still no sign of progression. We can only hope that salvation is coming. We have survived mainly on goldfish, red vines, crunch bars, and soda so far. But our resources are dwindling. The one they call Dillian has abandoned us, he hopped on the nearest bike and ran. The Lewis is coming along slowly, but has yet to catch up
on the verse. Andrew, the 5-stringed, sings pleasantly in a voice you would not expect from looking at him. Kevin is boyish, but plays well. If help does not come soon, I fear that they will cannibalize, or worse, homogenize. There are rumors abroad that I fear to speak. This memoir may be intercepted. But they must be recorded. The mothers of
Andrew and Kevin are actually one and the same, with a distant relation to my own Uncle Kevin. And it is said that Dillan is having Louis baby. Doo Wop...Bop shi bop doo wop...Dillan has returned to us. It is for the worse. Kimee is curled in a ball against the wall; she may have gone insane from all the failed attempts at good music. I fear I am the
only sane one left in the group...and my sanity is dwindling at that; I don’t think banging my head against the cupboard is helping me any. D D7 A A...it’s all become a jumble of confusion to me. Alas, the Andrew has chosen to leave as well. It seems this fear factor of music is too much for him. Word is spreading that a mutiny is expected. Monday perhaps? It’s unknown as of yet. It seems this entire practice has been in vain.
The Monologue I wrote for Drama
The Confessions of a Pent-up Psychotic
I didn’t kill him. I never meant to kill him. But I admit I had murder on my mind. He made me so angry. I think he snapped one too many emotional twigs. He made me feel worthless. I wanted him to feel dead. I didn’t mean that literally. How could I have gotten him strung from the ceiling? There was just this red haze clearing and suddenly I see him hanging there…his hands dangling…his feet no longer twitching. He looked like a rag doll. His neck was twisted like my pretty golden bird. My pretty bird’s song. He hated my bird…He killed it. He killed it. He deserved what he got. He can’t stop me anymore…I’ll be able to sing all I want now…He can’t stop me...
The Doctor said with proper medication I might be able to sing in the choir again some day. That is, after they figure out whether I have post traumatic stress disorder, or if I’m a schizophrenic killer. (Giggles maniacally) The Chaplain said God could make me better, if I accepted Jesus as my personal savior and confessed my sins. But I am without sins. What was done to my husband was God’s will. My husband was a sinful man…he deserved God’s judgment. He deserved what he got.
When we were alone he was terrible. I got so scared sometimes that I screamed.
And then he’d yell. “I swear to God, you scream one more time wench, and I will string you up by your neck till your eyeballs pop out!”
Do unto others as they do unto you…Do unto others as they do unto you…Do unto others as they do unto you…
Never underestimate the brain power of a blonde.
Walk the circles and you will know true happiness.
Do Wop. Bop Shi Bop. Do Wop.
Current Mood: Meditative
Alas...the summer has already taken to my head. I have started watching the Price is Right...Shoot me while my sanity is intact.
|Thursday, June 19th, 2003|
I hate going to weddings all the grandmas would poke me and say "you're next". They stopped doing that when I started doing it to them at funerals.
|Wednesday, June 18th, 2003|
Why is it that the Lucky Charms Leperchaun keeps his cereal from kids, and the kids keep the Trix away from the rabbit? Current Mood: curious
Why are male animlas more intuitive than male humans?...They have that sixth sense about when the females wanna do it (heat). Not to mention they fight over the women. When was the last time -you- had two or more guys literally fighting for your affection?
|Tuesday, June 17th, 2003|
9 out of 10 people during sex mean to say "I love this" instead of "I love you".
|Monday, June 16th, 2003|
Tangible things fade away, but dreams and legends go on forever.
We always kill the future to preserve the present.
Here's something ironic to think about: What if we discovered what it was that created everything; What made planets, living organisms, stars, everything. And what if they named it 'GOD'; whether it's an acronym or an element. And so, instead of it being a spiritual being, it's a scientific term. (This could have happened in the past, or might happen in the future.)