Sunday, September 28
There is one member of the family I like to call "punctuation" that I have a very special relationship with. And that is the comma. The comma and I are very close, and we have been for sometime. So close, in fact, the he tends to slip into my sentences where he often does not belong. That's alright with me, however, considering that he's been there for me on countless occasions. If he wants to be used, by god, let him be used. The end.
Last night I talked with Nora and Miles in my driveway for a very long time. It was nice. Miles is nice. So is Nora. Also, I'm actually not going to fail any classes. My god, I am obviously insane. The end again.
It's nice to me that when I look at people, they don't make me sad or mad or jealous or anything unpleasant, or even anything pleasant, for that matter. It's also nice that when I think about two opposites, they stop being opposites, and are, instead, quite the same, so that when I love someone, I hate them, too, and pain is always the same as pleasure. The real end.
Tuesday, September 23
Today I died.
Unfortunately, I was alive again by lunch. Damnit.
I'm going to write a story and it will be wonderful and you will never get to read it so that I win. Oh, and I win in lots of other ways. I win because I says so. Except that I'm not dead. So really, I lose.
Sunday, September 21
Yesterday I went to see Matchstick Men with my dad. While there, I realized that I's got me some mad skillz. And yes, that's "skills" with a "z" because, lets face it, if they're "mad," they have to be spelled with a "z." Anyway, the question I ponder this fine afternoon is as follows:
What the hell kind of mad skillz do I gots me? I mean, really, skillz? I don't gots no skillz. Much less mad ones. So, obviously, I lied to myself yesterday, and I am without mad skillz, skillz, or even skills.
Oh, wait, never mind, I rawk at being ridiculous. Yo, homie, dawg, man, dude; mad ridiculousness skillz represent. The endzzz.
P.S.
Don't be frontin' no fake skillz with me. Babe, you'd better back that big booty right up and tell me the truth or I'll be beatin' you with a fryin' pan and have your teeth knocked out before you can say skillz five times fast. Damn woman. Get your ass back in the kitchen.
P.P.S.
This is me winning like a foo'.
Wednesday, September 17
Okay, I think it's time for another story.
Once upon a time there was a delightful little girl named Lucinda who had an older sister named Nora. But suddenly, Nora disappeared. Lucinda realized that she had no older sister but was actually an only child with an active imagination. That's right, Nora doesn't exist. Lucinda realized this because every time she'd ask Nora for something, it wouldn't happen! A ride to the store because she forgot something she needed for tomorrow? Not from Nora. A wake-up call? Not from Nora. A book that's she's supposed to be seventeen chapters into but hasn't even started? Not from Nora! Nora was too cool to be Lucinda's older sister anymore and became a budding young musician, busy with the life of a college student, never having known any such "Lucinda" at all. And Lucinda was left to be a (l)on(e)ly child forever. The end.
P.S.
Life makes me sad.
P.P.S.
This would be easier if she'd actually go far away to college so that I could blame our dying relationship on the distance rather than her.
P.P.P.S.
Tomorrow will be a good day. Even though I'm dying. On the inside. And outside. And all sides. Forever. No matter what I do to save myself. The end again.
"Lately I’ve been thinking that maybe this won’t work out. I’m startin’ to reconsider. That’s right hun, I’m rethinking my options. Since, ya know, nobody likes a winner, and nobody likes a loser, so all you gotta do is fall between the cracks from now to eternity."
"…and maybe it’s too soon to get back on that horse. ‘Cause yesterday, I was out, watching the sun, and it hit me. Life’s no storybook. The longer I let myself heal, the longer it’ll be before I break again. And maybe that’s what I need. Everyone’s been tellin’ me about how I’ve got to get back in the game, but I’m thinking I’ll just take myself a break."
"I’ve been trying like a burning. I’ve been going and going and going. They can’t tell I’m moving, but there’s something in me that won’t stop. Even when I’m on the brink of death, it just doesn’t stop. And I hope to god that doesn’t run out before Wednesday."
"...I feel stupid when it comes back because, like, I guess I don't understand where it's coming from. And you know, it's been a few weeks or something, and it's all been really good, and then suddenly it's not, and that's just a little too strange for me. So really, I don't know what to do."
"Hey, baby, it doesn't matter. Because tomorrow, it'll all be okay."
You figure it out, bitch.
Tuesday, September 16
This is a post about Nora and how she's my favorite person in the world. If you don't care, go away because I don't want to be your friend because everyone should love Nora as much as I do because she's lovely!
-When Nora was in chemistry, her element was phosphorus. Guess what mine is!!! PHOSPHORUS. Insanity. This obviously means that we are joined at the hip and meant to be best sisters forever.
-Today I took the bus home from school at like 4:00 and you'll never guess who was sitting there, on her way home from UT...NORA!!! Man. Another sign.
-FAKE SUICIDE PACT!!! Need I say more??? Um, yes, but I'm not gonna.
I LOVE NORA FOREVERRRRRR. The end.
...and the reign of the jacket begins again...
Monday, September 15
Holy holy shit.
Another story:
Once upon a time there was a very bad little girl named Luci(nda) who was mean to everyone and obstinate and lazy and ridiculous in every way. However, for some reason or another, life decided to be good to her anyway. For example, Ms Croom was absolutely delightful and helpful and took our bad little heroine (hehehe) out of the dirty French class, leaving her to run amuck fifty minutes a day during her off period! Oh, lucky lucky Luci(nda). Also, there were many people who made her day through their amazing ability to win at life. Wesley gave her massages. He wins at life. Perry is going to have her babies. She wins at life. Samantha is going to marry her. She wins at life. Stephanie llllllloves her. She wins at life. Celeste just wins at life because, lets face it, CELESTE! Come on guyzzz, how could she not win at life...TWICE? The end.
Enjoy these happy days, for misery encroaches without warning.
Sunday, September 14
I think I might have to bust out the gray jacket again. Except that it smells sort of funny. I guess I should wash it first.
Today was a wonderful day. I hope that tomorrow doesn't suck, although tomorrows tend to. I also hope for a billion other things that I'm not going to say because you don't care.
The end.
Saturday, September 13
Holy shit.
Dear Life,
I think you ought to know that you are ridiculous. I mean, really. It seems like I should feel happy when I'm happy and sad when I'm sad and blah blah blah. But no, that's too much to ask. Instead, I get to scare people by making them think there's something wrong when I feel great! Thanks to you, I make negative sense. Even less than that, actually. But hah! I will beat you! I will have fun even if no one believes that I am!!! I will enjoy myself even if you won't let me show it!!! I winnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!
Luci(nda)
Today was lovely. Tomorrow will be, too. And except for how I hate life, it will always be lovely.
P.S.
To quote the book that practically ended my childhood, I feel "pleasantly languid."
Wednesday, September 10
I didn't go to school today. I fail at life. It's okay though, I threw up this morning. But I don't think I'm sick. So I'll see you tomorrow. Probably.
Last night was Jamboree and I died. I'm also going to die since I'm failing and failing at everything. Including living.
I spent the day reading everything I haven't yet read on http://maddox.xmission.com. I emailed him and asked him to marry me. He said "alright." I win.
Saturday, September 6
Yo dawg. Wassup? Um. No. Anywho. Last night was another football game and that was moderately fun, except for how I was dying since I sleep like never so can't be that energetic for that long. Yeah. I have a story:
The Day French Sucked
(based on a true story)
Once upon a time there was a little girl who worked very hard all the time. One day, in French class, she realized that she hated French and wanted to learn German on her own time instead. So, the little girl kindly informed her teacher of this and went to the counselor to discuss dropping the class. However, the school recently acquired an evil dictator who refused to allow nice little girls to do what is in their best interest. So, the little girl said "Fuck this," and went to take a nap behind the band hall. When she awoke, she resolved never to return to French again, and to just let herself fail until the end of the semester when she could drop the class officially. The end.
Tuesday, September 2
Man, since I remembered IMPORTANT THINGS TO SAY, today gets two posts:
1) DON'T LIE TO ME DON'T LIE TO ME DON'T LIE TO ME YOU STUPID FUCKING GUYS LIKE LUCAS WHO MAKE PROMISES AND DON'T KEEP THEM AND LIE LIE LIE!!!
2) New cool hair list:
1) Owen
2) no one else because, come on, I am going to marry Owen's hair...I hope he's okay with that...
3) Today Ms Nelson gave the french horn section a compliment and OH MY GOD WE DIED BECAUSE SHE NEVER COMPLIMENTS ANYONE AND WOW
The end.
Wooo! Parrrrrrr-tay at my house. Right now. As in me, home alone, rawkin' the house with crappy radio music and stale cereal. But hey, I gotta celebrate Tuesday somehow. Haha. Anyway. Danny dumped me as his bestest friend foreverrrrr (what an ass) so let me know if you'd like to fill those shoes. If, however, you're looking to be my bestest bunny made of honey, sorry, that's taken. And if you'd like to join the ranks of my favorite breasted men, talk to me. Blah blah blah. I'm actually failing three classes as of right now. Wow. I mean, wowwwwwww. I'm sorry I suck. Which reminds me...
You suck! We blow...french horns! (and people for money)
*insert rad secret french horn "hand"shake here*
SMURFS 4EVAH
The end.
