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Saturday, April 24th, 2004
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| Time: | 11:29 am. |
| Mood: | enraged. |
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I am fucking PISSED.
I HATE having to do things against my will. I HATE having to take care of children. I HATE it when my relatives impose themselves on me and mine just because they feel like they're entitled to. And I REALLY FUCKING HATE HAVING MY WEEKEND TAKEN AWAY FROM ME SO I CAN GO BABYSIT MY FUCKING HYPERACTIVE COUSINS UNTIL TOMORROW AFTERNOON.
You know, when I yell, I am really, really, fucking angry. And "Oh well, they have high-speed internet" isn't a very good consolation when I'm angry. $50 is not a reward for ten hours of babysitting. It's not even minimum wage. If they live an HOUR AWAY from me, I don't see why they can't find someone a little closer, a little more convenient, and a little less bloody-minded toward children to BABYSIT FOR THEM.
I fucking HATE WHEN PEOPLE DO THIS TO ME. When people agree for me and tell others that I'll do whatever they want - and to think that I wasn't even their fucking first choice, it was just, "Well, Sam has a school function on Sunday so she can't go; let's pick Stephanie instead because she's the only older one." Insult and injury DO NOT A HAPPY RELATIVE MAKE. I don't CARE that I get to bring whatever shit I want to. I don't CARE that I've roped Sam into coming with me. I don't fucking CARE because the one thing that I've always avoided doing is BABYSITTING. You would think that, having lived with me for sixteen years, my parents would have REALIZED THIS and maybe come to the BRILLIANT FUCKING CONCLUSION THAT I DON'T WANT TO BABYSIT, EVEN FOR FUCKING RELATIVES.
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Tuesday, April 20th, 2004
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Untitled - by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) pogrebin. Future, AU. The Muggles have turned the tables on the wizarding world.
Today was such a strange day. School, report card - lovely grades, for once - Amphora's, Best Buy. Bought a thing for Sam. Felt, y'know, giving or whatever. (Whoa, that was Valley Girl.) Generous. It made me feel good - like I was a decent person, for getting her something without any precedent.
Hell, I even gave off getting my CD because of that. But that wasn't really selfless because I didn't want to spend quite so much on CDs and DVDs at once. Ahem. So generous.
And then I came home, and now I'm chatting. And I feel good about it, actually. Because I feel witty and amusing and, well, accepted. I like that.
I do make a good Remus, don't I.
Or I should.
I am so HP-obsessed. Le sigh. Wonder what next year's obsession will be.
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Stealing Harry - WIP, but wtf it's so amazing despite that. <3. AU, Sirius never got to Wormtail, and he and Remus have taken Harry in instead.
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Thursday, April 15th, 2004
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wgjdsa;ds.
Jennifer has an eLJay. Oh em gee double-you tee eff. That's.. surprising.
Though in retrospect, it shouldn't be, since LJ got rid of the code thing. Hm. I just never really pegged her as a journaling type. Yeah, I'm stereotyped about who can write in journals and who can't. Yar frickety. I generalize. Take that, sociology class.
I figure I'll go for the bass part. Just for kicks. What's the worst that could happen? Don't answer that.
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1. What was the last song you heard?
Listening to 'Changes', by 3 Doors Down. Rightnow.
2. What were the last two movies you saw?
Passion of the Christ in theaters, and.. uh.. I don't know. Forrest Gump. Damn.
3. What were the last three things you purchased?
Pair of jeans from the Gap, new bass book, and a crate of yogurt (but this was vicariously through my mom and Sam). I'm a sad person. I lead a sad shopping existence.
4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
Sleep; practice bass; look up how to make an electroscope; watch Desperado and El Mariachi.
5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
Julia, Sadaf, Syeda, Dave, Joe. (Excluding family.) Don't talk a whole lot.
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Headline on MSN:
It's a boy for Colin Farrell
The first thing I thought: OMGWTFHE'SGAY!
It didn't kick in until a minute or three later that they were talking about a baby, weren't they. I refuse to look. My dreams are so sad.
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Is it wrong that I'm somewhat terrified of the national latin exam?
I don't want to be found out as the quasi Latin-fraud that I am. I hardly know passive voice. My translation skills are like shit. This is bad.
said to lie on the bed that you make / now i'm restless and i'm running from everything
Haiku:
Can't think of the words;
They escape me, fleet with glee
I cry, fear and loss.
I will come home this afternoon and do.. nifty productive things. Bass practice. Clean my room (which I've finally moved back into since I'm getting hives from sleeping on the floor upstairs). Look up factual questions for my story-to-be, including:
-How far can a horse travel in a day, going at, say, a steady canter?
-How far removed would a recessive allele have to be before it technically couldn't create the recessive genome or phenome in the offspring?
-How much would inbreeding affect that?
I kind of like the basement now. This chair is nifty-cool, the ottoman is a very nice prop for my speakers, and the couch - while it is the colour of a Cheez-It - is quite fun to curl up on. I plan on sleeping on it sometime this weekend just to see if I can.
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Thursday, March 11th, 2004
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My diagramming attempts for The Mofo Story That Refuses to Be Written is not going well. Julia thought it was a map of Suburbanite City. I have lines that actually transverse all the way to the back of the page. Many sections are blank. It is not good. I feel the need to reorganize but I don't want to erase anything because I have attachment issues to little things I've written like that.
I was also inexplicably reminded, in physics today, of bio class two years ago with Mike (Jones? Smith? Formerly Scepanzki, I know.) jumping up on top of Hundley's desk to try and eat the donut hanging there.
Fuck. Parents want me to work again.
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Haiku:
Quasi-guilt lingers;
Haven't posted for so long.
Will start again soon.
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And just in case we're not sick of fic recs yet:
Inferno - mostly-plausible Hermione/Lucius, to my surprise. NC-17. I <3 the Lucius.
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This paper is going much more slowly than I thought it would.
At this rate, it won't even end up being three pages. Which would be a pity, as I have to fill eight.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Dictionary.com WOTD: vagary
Mr. O'Connor's first heart attack was a vagary of mass proportion -- I didn't believe Hugh when he told me -- but after the second, and the third, and the fourth.. it's all beginning to get a bit repetitive.
Haiku:
Today, idyllic;
English paper's siren song
I don't want to hear.
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1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
There were two; Ms. O'Neal, for my first semester in Maryland, and Ms. Perrini here.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
I've never been much of a cartoon-girl, but I'd have to say the longest stretch I went at watching Saturday morning TV was a two-month kick off X-Men: Evolution, the series. W00t. I was such a sad child.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Ashleigh, I'd imagine. And then Ashley. And then Brittany -- none of them lasted very long, needless to say.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Oooh, the breakfast-cereal phases. I went through a half-year subsisting on bran cereal, and then I switched to Life (*makes bad cracks about getting a Life*), and then I did the Chex thing. I don't like breakfast much.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
Get the frack home and get online, of course.
Dictionary.com WOTD: fait accompli
Deepest apologies to a great deal of Sirius fans out there, but I fear The End of the Black Line to be a fait accompli -- and if JKR brings him back, I'd hate to see what state of decomposition he'd be in. Ew.
Daily pathetic attempt at creativity haiku:
Wait to be confirmed;
Silver serpents beckon, and
I assume triumph.
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Thursday, March 4th, 2004
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OMGWTFLOLBBQ<3!
BILLY BOYD SINGING BRITNEY SPEARS.
And they say American Idol is the new musical thing to watch out for.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain
and feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins
love, come quickly
'cause i feel my self-esteem is caving in
it's on the brink
love, come quickly
'cause i don't think i can keep this monster in
it's in my skin
love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine
cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen
love, i beg you
lift me up into that privileged point of view
that world of two
love, don't leave me
'cause i console mysel that hallmark cards are true
i really do
i'm gunning down romance
it never did a thing for me
but heartache and misery
ain't nothing but a tragedy
i'm gunning down romance
it never did a thing for me
but heartache and misery
ain't nothing but a tragedy
love, don't leave me
take these broken wings
i'm gonna take these wings
and learn to fly
and learn to fly away
THANK YOU, ARLINGTON. And anthropologists. Honestly, doesn't Bush have better things to think about than banning gay marriage?
That is my daily attempt to be not-completely-flaming-raging at Bush. [/niceness]
( more school ramblings. )
Dictionary.com WOTD: bowdlerize
If JKR publicly announced that Remus and Sirius are, along with being wizards, evil creatures, and reputed criminals, a real gay couple in her books, would Loudoun's extremely-conservative school board bowdlerize the Harry Potter series from school libraries?
Haiku:
bass and drums, heady
music trilling in my blood.
dance-itch in my feet.
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Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
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I feel freakin' good.
I don't know why, but I do.
Maybe it's the medication. W00t.
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