Aack, I've been too busy to post lately. I'll try to keep it short so I don't bore you out of your knickers.
I can't believe it's Monday already! This is horrible...!!! I don't want to go to school. I have to ride my bike, which means I'll freeze my ass off in the morning and die of heat stroke in the afternoon. And I can't wear a skirt, and probably not shorts, unless I wannew look super gansta in my rain pants...
I think I shall find out about MUN tomorrow, yes. Hopefully CHS has a decent team... if not I can either attempt to recruit people or I can join CV and be a traitor. I should probably join NHS too...yes, it'd be good for college.
My internet is being weird lately. It won't close certain tabs, so I have frozen ones stuck on my browser, but I don't really want to close it to get rid of them. I guess I'll have to look at them for ever and ever. Yes, that's it.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Play With My Fishes
In case you didn't notice, there's this really cool fish app right over there --------> that's lots of fun to play with. So check it out. Speaking of fish, I just cleaned my fish Timmy's fish bowl. He was seriously lacking clean water and there was some suspicious looking rusty stuff growing on his plant. He was exceptionally hard to catch today, considering his bowl was about to rust over. How he's swimming about in his plastic container while his water adjusts. I don't suppose he has a very long attention span, so it can't be considered torture. Ah, I'm in a box. Isn't this water nice? ZOMG I just realized I'm in a box. Who the hell would put me in a box? What's that shiny thing over there? Fooooood...
Sources from above are telling me that I need to post some of my art. I shall do so as soon as I get a break from homework and such. Recently I've just been practising drawing body parts. I bet you didn't know it's very hard to find a good picture of an ear or a nose online. If it's not blurry, it's some kind of weird bodily thing emerging from one's specific body part. In other words, gross stuff. I don't want to draw gross stuff that someone found on their eyeball. Hell, I don't want to look at gross stuff someone found on their eyeball. If I wanted to do that, I'd become a doctor. Doctors can look at gross stuff. No disrespect to the job or anything, just the truth. Doctors are to gross stuff as I am to... what am I to? Well...
I bet you're very interested to know that I spent my off block wisely and, upon running out of homework to do and not feeling like a journey to Fred Meyers (apparently losers go to Fred Meyers) I read a cookbook. But not just any cook book. It was written by Sam, who is immensely cool, has lots of friends, CAN COOK, and is British. I could make such educated guess by looking at his cook book, yes. This, I can tell you, was quite entertaining. Did I mention that Sam is also mundo cool? When I tried to explain this to my mom, she replied with something along the lines of "So you talked to someone named Sam on off block?" No, sorry to confuse you, I haven't made super British, super awesome friends that know how to cook. Instead, I just looked at such people in a cookbook I found in the library. Educational? No. Entertaining? Yes!
Unfortunately for me, I have recently made the discovery of what it feels like (once in my life!) for math not to be easy. Yes, I understand now. I'm not by any means saying that it's hard, just that I have to work a little harder. Eh, I guess it's a good idea to get me off my lazy butt (not that math makes me stand up or anything) and be challenged. Yay for challenging me, yippee for being semi-hard. My guess is that it's mostly just my brain slowly waking up from a long summer and saying Nooooo I don't want to remember! Hm... math is still fun though. Math, math math. Such a funny word.... math, math, math...
The problem with this whole blog idea is that I come of with great ideas on subjects of which to write about, but promptly forget them upon actually writing. So I pretty much just blather on about this and that, completely passing by what I really wanted to talk about. For example, I've been meaning to express for days my theory on Victoria's Secret models wanting to eat your soul instead of sell you underwear. Not to mention that I've meant to mention my fishes for days now. I guess I'm the forgetful sort, as of the late. Leaving my phone here and there...
After lunch today, my locker decided to be quite lovely and jam itself when I put merely a half of what I usually shove into lockers inside it. This wouldn't have been so bad, but it caused me not only to be late for French class, but to be completely lacking all supplies whatsoever. When Mme Bazanelle inquired where my notebook was, I was forced to acknowledge my supply-less state, instead of simply staring into space and pretending I hadn't noticed that all I was carrying to class was my lunch box and a sweater. Even though I spaced out through all of class, as what she was review seemed to go from understood to just plain confusing with her words, I was finally required to borrow a pencil (I hate asking people for stuff) and maybe some paper from my neighbor. Mme Hamer, I miss you! Mme Bazanelle may be an okay teacher, but she's also a tad bit frou! Yes, I really want to sing about verbs while you play the piano. Yes, I am in high school.
Thinking I have Logorrhea today? Not some obscure disease, but excessive talking. I sure can talk... hope you've enjoyed yourself. And comment please.
To end, a quote:
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." ~Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905
Sources from above are telling me that I need to post some of my art. I shall do so as soon as I get a break from homework and such. Recently I've just been practising drawing body parts. I bet you didn't know it's very hard to find a good picture of an ear or a nose online. If it's not blurry, it's some kind of weird bodily thing emerging from one's specific body part. In other words, gross stuff. I don't want to draw gross stuff that someone found on their eyeball. Hell, I don't want to look at gross stuff someone found on their eyeball. If I wanted to do that, I'd become a doctor. Doctors can look at gross stuff. No disrespect to the job or anything, just the truth. Doctors are to gross stuff as I am to... what am I to? Well...
I bet you're very interested to know that I spent my off block wisely and, upon running out of homework to do and not feeling like a journey to Fred Meyers (apparently losers go to Fred Meyers) I read a cookbook. But not just any cook book. It was written by Sam, who is immensely cool, has lots of friends, CAN COOK, and is British. I could make such educated guess by looking at his cook book, yes. This, I can tell you, was quite entertaining. Did I mention that Sam is also mundo cool? When I tried to explain this to my mom, she replied with something along the lines of "So you talked to someone named Sam on off block?" No, sorry to confuse you, I haven't made super British, super awesome friends that know how to cook. Instead, I just looked at such people in a cookbook I found in the library. Educational? No. Entertaining? Yes!
Unfortunately for me, I have recently made the discovery of what it feels like (once in my life!) for math not to be easy. Yes, I understand now. I'm not by any means saying that it's hard, just that I have to work a little harder. Eh, I guess it's a good idea to get me off my lazy butt (not that math makes me stand up or anything) and be challenged. Yay for challenging me, yippee for being semi-hard. My guess is that it's mostly just my brain slowly waking up from a long summer and saying Nooooo I don't want to remember! Hm... math is still fun though. Math, math math. Such a funny word.... math, math, math...
The problem with this whole blog idea is that I come of with great ideas on subjects of which to write about, but promptly forget them upon actually writing. So I pretty much just blather on about this and that, completely passing by what I really wanted to talk about. For example, I've been meaning to express for days my theory on Victoria's Secret models wanting to eat your soul instead of sell you underwear. Not to mention that I've meant to mention my fishes for days now. I guess I'm the forgetful sort, as of the late. Leaving my phone here and there...
After lunch today, my locker decided to be quite lovely and jam itself when I put merely a half of what I usually shove into lockers inside it. This wouldn't have been so bad, but it caused me not only to be late for French class, but to be completely lacking all supplies whatsoever. When Mme Bazanelle inquired where my notebook was, I was forced to acknowledge my supply-less state, instead of simply staring into space and pretending I hadn't noticed that all I was carrying to class was my lunch box and a sweater. Even though I spaced out through all of class, as what she was review seemed to go from understood to just plain confusing with her words, I was finally required to borrow a pencil (I hate asking people for stuff) and maybe some paper from my neighbor. Mme Hamer, I miss you! Mme Bazanelle may be an okay teacher, but she's also a tad bit frou! Yes, I really want to sing about verbs while you play the piano. Yes, I am in high school.
Thinking I have Logorrhea today? Not some obscure disease, but excessive talking. I sure can talk... hope you've enjoyed yourself. And comment please.
To end, a quote:
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." ~Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Weekend Went By So Fast
I'm so excited! I have two followers and 5 comments. So proud, so proud.
For a day of house cleaning (sink scrubbing, door frame scrubbing, window shining), it really wasn't so bad. Although dousing everything in Pledge and inhaling the majority of it isn't fun, it could be worse. You know how much I love toxic chemicals. Eh, I shouldn't say that. I really have no idea what's actually in Pledge and whether or not it's actually toxic... I guess I'll find out. (Be right back.)
Three minutes of research gives me the following. Polydimethylsiloxanes (Silicon oil): used mostly in auto products, household products, and personal care products. Sometimes used with various eye conditions. Does not appear to be extravagantly toxic. Okay, okay. So it's not the chemicals in the dusting spray I should be worried about, as long as I don't feel the need to light it on fire. I should probably consider it's distinctly lemony flavor's effect on my brain.
Upon regrouping and discussing recent happenings with my groupies over pizza last night, I gathered that the lot of us are a little slow making new friends. Yeah, I don't want to leave you guys either, but life is life. I guess I want to encourage everyone to speak up and be themselves. Don't be shy, be... I can't think of anything that rhymes with shy. Shy... bye... fly... sky... Ah, I give up. Think of it this way: if you're loud, opinionated, and friendly, you're bound to make a few friends. Of course, you'll probably make a few enemies along the way, complaining about that obnoxious loser, but who cares. Good luck guys.
Wow, I just realized the picture I just drew of a little kid looks like some kid in my French class minus about ten years. That is incredibly awkward. Yeah, I don't know you and that picture in my sketch book looks suspiciously like you. No, I'm not being creepy, I promise. Of course you shouldn't be worried. Meh, I think my sketch book will be staying home for a while. Heh heh heh...
So I totally forgot to give you guys a lovely word of vocabulary yesterday. I've failed you already!! Guess that means two for today. I bet you guys didn't know that I'm neanimorphic. Yeah, I'm really like thirty five... just kidding... no, I look my age (I think!!). I'm not really neanimorphic. Yeah, I can practically hear your cachinnation radiating through my wireless. Ha ha ha... right. No, you guys probably aren't laughing hysterically. I just think I'm funny.
To end this very, very long post, I just wanted to say: "Comment, comment, comment!" Time for spell check.
For a day of house cleaning (sink scrubbing, door frame scrubbing, window shining), it really wasn't so bad. Although dousing everything in Pledge and inhaling the majority of it isn't fun, it could be worse. You know how much I love toxic chemicals. Eh, I shouldn't say that. I really have no idea what's actually in Pledge and whether or not it's actually toxic... I guess I'll find out. (Be right back.)
Three minutes of research gives me the following. Polydimethylsiloxanes (Silicon oil): used mostly in auto products, household products, and personal care products. Sometimes used with various eye conditions. Does not appear to be extravagantly toxic. Okay, okay. So it's not the chemicals in the dusting spray I should be worried about, as long as I don't feel the need to light it on fire. I should probably consider it's distinctly lemony flavor's effect on my brain.
Upon regrouping and discussing recent happenings with my groupies over pizza last night, I gathered that the lot of us are a little slow making new friends. Yeah, I don't want to leave you guys either, but life is life. I guess I want to encourage everyone to speak up and be themselves. Don't be shy, be... I can't think of anything that rhymes with shy. Shy... bye... fly... sky... Ah, I give up. Think of it this way: if you're loud, opinionated, and friendly, you're bound to make a few friends. Of course, you'll probably make a few enemies along the way, complaining about that obnoxious loser, but who cares. Good luck guys.
Wow, I just realized the picture I just drew of a little kid looks like some kid in my French class minus about ten years. That is incredibly awkward. Yeah, I don't know you and that picture in my sketch book looks suspiciously like you. No, I'm not being creepy, I promise. Of course you shouldn't be worried. Meh, I think my sketch book will be staying home for a while. Heh heh heh...
So I totally forgot to give you guys a lovely word of vocabulary yesterday. I've failed you already!! Guess that means two for today. I bet you guys didn't know that I'm neanimorphic. Yeah, I'm really like thirty five... just kidding... no, I look my age (I think!!). I'm not really neanimorphic. Yeah, I can practically hear your cachinnation radiating through my wireless. Ha ha ha... right. No, you guys probably aren't laughing hysterically. I just think I'm funny.
To end this very, very long post, I just wanted to say: "Comment, comment, comment!" Time for spell check.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
=]
Today I had some pretty good drawing vibes going on. I'm trying to ride them as much as I can right now because I don't know how long they will last. Either way, I decided to take a break to blog before it go too late.
I bet you didn't know that I just adopted someone's ugly duck on Farmville. It was so cute and forlorn. Unfortunately someone nabbed it before me. It's a good thing it was cute.
Hanging with my buddies tonight was pretty chill. We got some pretty sweet pizza eating and conversation in. Now all's I have to do is get some new friends as cool as my old ones... (don't worry, it'll never happen, guys) We tried the pick-someone-up- magically-with-two-fingers thing again... I guess I don't have the special powers down yet; it didn't work. My failures cause everyone to doubt that it actually does work and think I'm making it up. No, I'm not trying to make you guys look dumb. (And no, I do not want to make a cartoon version of myself, thank you very much.) Ah, well.
I went to the Farmers Market and got some tasty veggies and a snow cone today. I noticed that the market was significantly lacking cheese. Maybe one day I'll open a cheese booth in which prices aren't fixed. I've always liked the idea that you pay what you think it's worth or what you can afford. Maybe you're behind on rent, so you give me 3 dollars for my cheese instead of $5... In theory, it would all work out under my watchful eye; you rip me off, you don't come back. I suppose I'd lose business for being too socialist, but I don't want those costumers anyways. Like my future business endeavor?
Ah, well. It's about time I get back to my drawing. I could write all day, bore you to sleep I'm sure. Anyone whose reading this, please comment. I like to know if it's actually being read.
I bet you didn't know that I just adopted someone's ugly duck on Farmville. It was so cute and forlorn. Unfortunately someone nabbed it before me. It's a good thing it was cute.
Hanging with my buddies tonight was pretty chill. We got some pretty sweet pizza eating and conversation in. Now all's I have to do is get some new friends as cool as my old ones... (don't worry, it'll never happen, guys) We tried the pick-someone-up- magically-with-two-fingers thing again... I guess I don't have the special powers down yet; it didn't work. My failures cause everyone to doubt that it actually does work and think I'm making it up. No, I'm not trying to make you guys look dumb. (And no, I do not want to make a cartoon version of myself, thank you very much.) Ah, well.
I went to the Farmers Market and got some tasty veggies and a snow cone today. I noticed that the market was significantly lacking cheese. Maybe one day I'll open a cheese booth in which prices aren't fixed. I've always liked the idea that you pay what you think it's worth or what you can afford. Maybe you're behind on rent, so you give me 3 dollars for my cheese instead of $5... In theory, it would all work out under my watchful eye; you rip me off, you don't come back. I suppose I'd lose business for being too socialist, but I don't want those costumers anyways. Like my future business endeavor?
Ah, well. It's about time I get back to my drawing. I could write all day, bore you to sleep I'm sure. Anyone whose reading this, please comment. I like to know if it's actually being read.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Blogger Beginnings
>Today I've decided to write a blog. Yes, I know, you must have something interesting to write about if you wish to have a blog, but I must have one anyway. It shall be mostly fed by my constant train of thought, no matter the random/ confusing/ unrealistic/ imaginative/ stupid/ cuniculous/ barbaric the nature may be. Every day, though it may end up being every other or every third day due to this thing they call high school. But who cares about that anyways?
But first, I must enlighten you with a wonderfully imaginative word to add to your vocabulary. I feel that it is utterly important that one knows the meaning of the word dactylion. Though Cha Cha, with whom I have had a quite entertaining exchange, has assured me that cette mot does not exist, I assure you that it in reality does. Si, the word dactylion is actually referring to the endmost point of the middle figure. Useful, when wanting to further embarrass yourself upon being given the finger by some unsuspecting dactylion flourisher. This, incidentally, is also (I hear) sign language for the Eiffel tower. I am assured that the French have no problem thinking of their own indecent hand gestures...
Speaking of such, I am reminded of a certain happening in French class... the kid sitting next to me asked me if I just moved to Corvallis. I mean hello... just because I am lacking in number of friends doesn't mean we aren't small and mighty. Perhaps she was just momentarily engaged by my new-found need to write in cursive that she read my paragraphe deux, sujet un in my autobiographie. How this would lead one to make such assumption... I shall show them!
Well, enough wordage for today. It's probably a waste of Internet space either way.
But first, I must enlighten you with a wonderfully imaginative word to add to your vocabulary. I feel that it is utterly important that one knows the meaning of the word dactylion. Though Cha Cha, with whom I have had a quite entertaining exchange, has assured me that cette mot does not exist, I assure you that it in reality does. Si, the word dactylion is actually referring to the endmost point of the middle figure. Useful, when wanting to further embarrass yourself upon being given the finger by some unsuspecting dactylion flourisher. This, incidentally, is also (I hear) sign language for the Eiffel tower. I am assured that the French have no problem thinking of their own indecent hand gestures...
Speaking of such, I am reminded of a certain happening in French class... the kid sitting next to me asked me if I just moved to Corvallis. I mean hello... just because I am lacking in number of friends doesn't mean we aren't small and mighty. Perhaps she was just momentarily engaged by my new-found need to write in cursive that she read my paragraphe deux, sujet un in my autobiographie. How this would lead one to make such assumption... I shall show them!
Well, enough wordage for today. It's probably a waste of Internet space either way.
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