December 12, 2002 :: 12:25 a.m.
he's got diamonds on the bed of his thumbnails
There once was a girl whose tummy hurt when she drank ginger ale. It was a very sad situation, because she was thirsty but she didn't want water. So she spent a whole dollar on a bottle of ginger ale, in hopes that it would quench her thirst like no other liquid could. She opened it up, took a sip, and sniffed away the burning in her nostrils that often accompanies the fizziness of soda. She couldn't sniff away the burning in her throat, though, or the queasy, bubbly feeling in her tummy. But she continued to drink the ginger ale, taking very small sips so as to avoid the full-on unpleasantness that gulping would induce. After a while she couldn't take it anymore, so she put the cap back on the soda and sat it on the edge of her desk, slightly out of reach. She retrieved her blue plastic water cup and resigned herself to a night of tasteless beverage purgatory.
Then she finished her final English paper, and all the angels descended from heaven to surround her with echoing renditions of hymns that she had never heard before, being a non-Christian kind of girl. She gazed in amazement at the creatures, envying there wings and wondering if perhaps one of them would let her ride on its back for a while. Then she remembered the state of the weather, cold and wet and unappealing, and decided that riding on the back of an angel could wait for another night. After a few minutes she asked them if they would kindly take their blinding heavenly persons out of her sight, because she was losing the ability to differentiate colors, and that's never good. They seemed somewhat offended, being holy whatsits and thus feeling that they should be welcome anyplace they please at any time of the day or night, but eventually they left. She thinks that it may have been the flamethrower that convinced them, but she can't really be sure.
After the angels left, she turned to her computer. She decided to write in her neeto deeto online diary, because she was free, free, FREE from school, and she felt the need to share her joy. And so she shared her joy as best she knew how:
JOY!Then she started doing a chair dance to "Johnny Feelgood," because damn if that's not just the catchiest song ever. After her dance, she decided that it was high time to stop speaking in the third person, because only serious geeks do that.
Case in point: me. Yeah, I don't know. I just felt like doing that. I'm in a decently good mood, ongoing body issues aside. I finished my English paper, and thus I am officially done with all schoolwork as of NOW. I shan't touch a damn thing that is school-related until I have to come back here on January 14th. So there, LVC. Take that and shove it someplace tight and uncomfortable.
Ooh, I have money! Not a whole lot of money, but any money is cause for celebration when you're poorer than homeless guys. Adam and I sold back our books this afternoon, and collected $67 each. Score. I really didn't expect to get that much, especially since I couldn't sell back two of the five that I took in. The other five I'm keeping for one reason or another. Two are actual books, which I am keeping because I am a book whore. The others are things that I'll presumably need next semester, like my French book and the stupid Bedford Handbook thing that they make you buy for English. I don't need grammar and citation rules, guys, and if due to some hideous joke played on me by a pack of angry angels I find that I do need them, I can find them online in about 2.5 seconds. But such is life.
Bedford Handbook makes me think of Stepford Handbook, which would be an entirely different (and less pleasant) piece of literature. And it doesn't exist. Hrm.
Today has been Liz Phair Day. It's a good thing. Today has also been Slow As Fuck Internet Connection Day. I can't fathom why. I mean, there aren't even that many people here anymore. It's usually way faster when people are gone, but nooo. Not this time. This time it's going to be all Opposite Day and fuck with my fragile perception of reality. Bastard.
Well, my three readers, I think I'm going to put myself into bed and either read or draw until I'm too sleepy to continue. Tomorrow morning I get to drop off my English paper and pick up my Anthro project, which is just fine with me because it doesn't require any real effort on my part. Laziness is my god, I swear. Anyhow, yes, off to bed with me. 'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005