I'm drowning.

So I was backstage help/fitting room attendant at the "Miss Oakland" pageant Saturday.
It was, in a word, an experience.

If you were in a burning museum and you had to save one item: a Van Gogh or an elderly woman who probably didn't have very long to live, anyway, which would you choose and why?

So I just realised something.... Out of the nine-odd colleges I'm applying to, four are in the northeast, two are in the west, and one each for midwest, southeast, and abroad.  Fully eight of these are reach schools.  Crap.

Craving Panera.  And a cast-iron bat (still).

"Halaigh, Halaigh, A Lie, Halaigh" by Bright Eyes has been stuck in my head all friggin' yesterday and today.  That's what I get for putting it on REPEAT this morning on the way to school.  But hey, it was/is applicable.  I've been deceived by someone I thought was close to me.  By someone I thought I knew.  This is two extraordinarily painful experiences I've already had (on two separate occassions), combined.  It's fun.  Fun like a hospice patient.  Thank God my mascara didn't run.  Sometimes that's the only thing that keeps me from letting the dams break, but I'll take what I can get.  Crying period is bad enough, but in public must be infinitely worse.  Thanks to Schleicher for listening and talking and making sure no one saw.  It's great how I can go from distraught to irritated in all of seven hours.

I'm golden now, though.  Always am.... Always have to be, you know?

So.... Uh.... Apparently Earth's climate has regressed back into the latest Ice Age, and the White House meteorologists were too busy taking  ethics courses to broadcast such news.  Anyway, I believe I was talking about the weather, and how we're all going to die from frostbite, and how it's really a plot, and.... Oh nevermind.  Although I got to look like a Siberian refugee trudging across campus in the all-encompassing darkness.

Oh ye of the XY-chromosomal persuasion, why must ye be so perplexing?
And maddening??
And really, really make me want to go off and hit something (preferably the offensive member of the XY-persuasion).  With a bat.  A metal bat.  Hard.  Several times.  Okay, maybe just once.  But dang if it doesn't feel like five.
Tip of the iceberg, people.  Tip of the ever-loving iceberg.

On a completely unrelated note.... You ever have those times where you're just not very tolerant of other forms of human life?  Here, I'll prove it to you.  Come closer.  *Snirkle*

And of course, now is the time for my yoga book to go missing.   I can make an attempt at bendy Zen nonetheless.  *Stretch, rip, ow.*

So my hair's dark brown now.  It's fun.

Still haven't broached the subject of bartending school with Dad.  Maybe I'll let him find out by enrolling.
.....Maybe not.

Ah, the blissful solitude and tranquility that come with an empty house.  Too bad I have to leave it all to work.  *Sniff*

My nasty uniform needs ironing.  Which means I must begin this process known as 'suiting up for slavery.'  Figures, as soon as I have some regulars at that joint I've turned in my notice.

Life is good.  I don't see why people agonise so much about it.  At least we're on the fun side of ground level!

Yeah, I know.  I should be writing those three papers due tomorrow (two of which are in a completely different language).

There was a mouse in my CPU at like 4:30 this morning.  No, it was not attached by a cord.  Little bugger woke me up.  Blah.  Death to all rodents.  I briefly considered turning the computer on and electrocuting it, but multiple unwarranted bursts of reason prevented this.
1.) I'd have small pangs of remorse that would gradually grow as I drank coffee and thus became human.
2.) It'd ruin my computer.
3.) If it didn't ruin my computer, I'd still be scraping fried mouse out of the myriad of gears that make the machine work.  Not exactly the way I'd planned to spend my spare week.
4.) Two words: karmic smackdown.

So instead I reflected on the benefits of cyanide.
Charming.

Okay.  Now I'm going to go write those papers.

Oh yeah, I turned in my two-week notice at Shoney's today.
And Mum says I can attend bartending school so long as Daddy doesn't disown me.  Score!
And my right hand is curiously swollen from two college applications that I randomly decided to fill out last night.  I always knew higher education would come to no good!

....Paper??

So it's decided.  Before I die, I'm going to Ghana and taking the canopy hike (the longest canopy trail in the world), visiting elephants, going to a cocoa farm, and escaping near-inevitable snacking by crocodiles.  Because everybody makes random resolutions to visit Africa for no apparent reason.  Oh yes, and we're stopping by Africa's diamond mines, too.  A weekend jaunt in Morocco, couple days in Egypt....  Oh yes.  It's going to be awesome.

I'm also going to start watching the Travel Channel more often (the infamous spawn site of this hairbrained adventure).  *Grins*  "Look!  Killer elephants at dawn!"  Exciting.

Okay, really random, but why, dear God above us, WHY do ballroom dancers wear such horrid, tacky, most of all downright trashy costumes??!  They live on this planet (or so I thought), they know that eight strips of fuschia jersey do not a dress make.  How do they keep from blinding small children?  Do they employ rubber cement to make certain every tawdry strip stays in just the right crucial place??  But -- but -- Whyyyyyyyy?  *Weeps, tears hair*  ....*Gnashes teeth*

Exhibit A (Or, more appropriately, XXX) -- Even Paris Hilton would blush.

It's like a loincloth with too much fabric someone tied to a swimsuit top.

It's times like these which convince me that yes, God really has forsaken us all.

Okay.  I'm done.  Apologies.  I'm off to drown my sorrows and horror in decently-cut attire.

You know those people who seem happy enough to see you when they see you, but never really make the effort to do that?  Like if you happen to be there with the group, that's well and good, but you'll never be quite as close as the other seven people in the room, and it's apparent.  Like you're asked along because it's nice, or you're good for a laugh, or it serves some purpose other than pure company.  And you wax between being really disgusted by such a phenomenon, and making plans to see these people again.  Kind of like bulimia, what with the bing(e)ing and purging and all.

I'm going to bed.  No idea where this spike of depression came from, but I'm sure it's nothing eight hours of sleep can't distract from.  Never is, after all.

She leads the most charmed of lives
She dazzles and astounds.
But stands, when audience has gone,
In figures hunched, eyes to the ground.

She has no major problems --
Or none to which she will admit.
Her smiling laughs will fog the mind.
That glass slipper's a narrow fit.

Okay, off to make good on that eight hour distraction.  But dernit if I can't leave a post 100% angsty.  It's like I'm OCD regarding this, or something.  Merde.  Okay, here we go.... Verse 1 of Amish Paradise.  Watch and be amazingly amused, foo'.

As I walk through the valley where I harvest my grain,
I take a look at my wife and realize she’s very plain,
But that’s just perfect for an Amish like me.
You know I shun fancy things like electricity.
At 4:30 in the morning I’m milkin’ cows,
Jebediah feeds the chickens and Jacob plows... Fool.
And I’ve been milkin’ and plowin’ so long that
Even Ezekiel thinks that my mind is gone.
I’m a man of the land, I’m into discipline.
Got a Bible in my hand and a beard on my chin,
But if I finish all of my chores and you finish thine,
Then tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1699.

Teehee.  I love it. 

So I skipped school today.  It was fun.  Half because I view the whole practise as increasingly pointless (except for perhaps my European History class and definitely my English class), and half because my tonsils were swollen to Goodyear proportions.

Lovely image, eh?  They're deflated now.  But everyone knows that sickness can often be cured by some old-fashioned retail therapy.

It was worth it.  Staying home, anyway.  Mum and I bonded.  To some extent.  We cursed each other over boardgames, anyway (calling each other "fiendish hags" and whatnot).  So I guess that could be construed as "bonding."  Our relationship is weird.  But awesome.  After all, how else could "I want you to leave!" (in regards to moving out) be construed in a loving manner??  *Headshake, eye-roll*

The delicious pizza essence wafts from the kitchen below, mocking me in my hunger.

I take great satisfaction from the fact that top oil executives were systematically grilled and basted and grilled again before the Senate yesterday, trying to explain the fact that soaring gas prices are in no way related to their soaring profits.  *StabStab*  Suffice to say, they failed to provide satisfactory answers.  Let's get those numbers back to 86 cents (hell, I'll take $1), peoples.  Oh wait.  You need those five Rolls Royces to survive.  (Sorry.)

Move along, people.  Nothing to see here.  HTML is being obstreperous, and I need to beat it into submission before properly posting (ah-ha!  Alliteration!  And you thought you'd never see THAT again!!)

"Nothing gives a fearful man more courage than another's fear."
~ Umberto Eco

You ever feel like you were plopped down on Earth for a tediously specific reason?  That you're really supposed to be doing Something, but have no idea what that might be or where to begin?  Like the quote (yeah, another) that one should "live the life you were born to."  And you're kind of paranoid about messing your destiny up, even if it IS destiny and will happen regardless.  (Some ways are just less painful than others.  Take Oedipus, for example.  Boy, did HE screw up his 'Destine Path.')  And then feel really presumptious to even suppose that your purpose is any grander than another person's?  But still feel caught between your passions and what you feel pulled to do, yet not knowing which is which or even what?

And then type a really long-winded MySpace Blog paragraph about it?

I thought so.  That makes two of us, at any rate.

(Four days.  Shh, it's a secret. )

So this Phusebox has been a little neglected lately.... Mea culpa, mea culpa.  Or as the French would say (I think -- they never taught us manners in that language class.  Hmmmmmmmm.  Maybe that's why American's are despised overseas.  The news at 9:00!) -- Ma faute, ma faute.

I'd write about my dazzling life, only.... My life isn't very dazzling.
-- School.
-- School.  (Exams tomorrow and Wednesday!  Fun!  Not.)
-- Work.
-- Unwritten college applications
-- Confusion
-- A costume that needs to be made by January.  A costume that involves an outer layer of 6 yards of fabric.  *Slam*  For an event that I don't even technically have permission to go on yet.

That "burgeoning social life" as Mother once referred to it, has suddenly vaporised.  I think a certain workforce is largely to blame.

OH!!  Guess who is a legal, voting, lottery-ticket-buying member of 'adult society' in all of SEVEN days??!  (According to our ever-enlightened government, one is suddenly granted Advanced Reasoning Capacity and Intelligence upon reaching this age.  I'm still waiting for some people to get their share.)  Yes, that's right.  Me.  Moi.  Yours truly.  The object of your idolatry -- errrrrrrr, amiability..... Anywho.  I'm just a little excited.  Just a little.  *Grins*  And I turn eighteen ON election day, no less.  Naturally, there are no elections.  *Sniffle*

"Git 'er done!" -- Mother.
"I'm revoking your country license for life." -- Me.

*Later*  "Git 'er done!" -- Mother.  *Weeps*
"GAHH!  YOUR COUNTRY LICENSE HAS BEEN REVOKED!!"  -- One guess....

For the record, I think every one of you is an amazing human being who deserve to know a person much better than myself.  *Hugs!*

??!

What time is it, really???!!!

Daylight savings time has never been so perplexing.  "I'm awake.  It's 7:00 in the morning.  I should not be up for at least three more hours.  So.... Why the crap am I not tired and grouchy??!"  Tired and grouchy, yes.  Morning is by far my worst time of day.  The coffee helps matters, though.  I'm not addicted.  Just don't remove the I.V.

The clocks say one thing.  WKRN says another.  I am sooooo buying an atomic clock.

YESSSSSSSSSSS.  I have found an "official U.S. time" website.
-- Server error??!

.....

I should have expected as much.  *Snirkle*

YESSSSSSSSSSS.  Thank you, U.S. Naval Observatory.
*Relief*

You have no idea how much this was bugging me.

I'm out.

You ever tried to be really open-minded about close-minded issues, because you've been close-minded in your world of open-minded issues??

And if the above even made sense to you (heck, I'm having trouble understanding it).... Isn't it all relative anyway????

Woohoo, Kelly needs to stop thinking so much.
That, or she needs to start thinking more.

Relativity, relativity.... Gahh.

That summer philosophy class isn't helping one bit, either.  In fact, it stirs up some rather unwanted confusion.  "What if we're BOTH??"  "We could just be brains in vats!"  "It's like the Matrix!"  "But Kant would still disagree with you."  "But it's the lesser of two evils!"  "But Kant would still disagree with you!"  "Gahhhh!!"  ((Personally, I think Kant is a moron, if I'm remembering philosophers correctly.  What a crock that some people are remembered eternally because they sat around and thought.  We should all be so lucky.))

/.Edit./  Yeah, okay, so I love my friends dearly.  Yup, each and every one in millions of intangible ways.  So when someone starts spreading rumours about them, you can bet that I'm going to be Furious.  Livid.  Rabid.  Like Lady Macbeth on crack and heroin all at once.  So to whomever is doing this, watch out.  I'm looking for you.  And I can guarantee you won't see me first.  /.End edit./

*Laughs hysterically*  How's this for hilarious??  I walk into my parents room (where the lovely computer is) tricked out in Elizabethan underpinnings (a corset, extra-large hoopskirts, and oh-so-period tank top)  (I was testing something, it wasn't just for fun and excitement), and the three kittens in there take one look at me and RUN under the bed like their lives depended on it.

Hehehehehehehe.

That's all.  Really.  It amused me, anyway.

Oh fine.

::Edit::  Oh god.... I just hiccuped in this thing.  Ouchies.  That was a first.  ::/Edit::

So why, pray tell, do a bunch of thick-headed high school freshmen think they can catcall me?  How would they feel if a herd of skeezy guys did that to their little sisters, or their moms??  What makes them think that girls actually enjoy or respond to it???  I mean really, most people of the female persuasion think it's vile, offensive, and that the guys who do it are mentally-challenged pictures of desperation.  And to top it all off....

If there's one thing I despise, it's being relegated to a traditional role.
Especially if it's as though there were no question about it.
It makes me angry, caustic, and not very fun to be around.
Merde.  I guess today was female degredation day, or something.

Now all those unpleasantries are out of my system.... ^_^

Costume shindig tonight.  Most exciting.  Participation in a faire as one certain non-human creature (i.e. Elf) makes preparations very easy.  I only have one pointed ear, though, so it looks like I'm going as the Van Gogh Elf.  Fun, eh?  "Sauron!  Frodo!  Angst!  *Slice*"  Heh.

::EDIT:: Just when I think all is for naught.... :-)  ::/EDIT::

Oh heck yes, totally made the Greenbox Quote entry!  I feel so honoured. XD

In twenty-three days, I will no longer be able to commit felonies.
Well, I will, but I'll be tried as an adult.  That's not so much fun, from what I hear tell.
So much delinquency to squeeze in, so little time....

Pretty sure I hit "off" instead of "snooze" on my alarm today, resulting in an abrupt awakening at 10:30, the time I was supposed to be on the opposite end of town at the revered Bel Air Baptist Church.  I quite obviously did not bother coming in late (due largely to the fact that I have to cross three time zones), instead groggily breakfasting on a healthy array of fried chicken and biscuits that were brought home.  Arteries, are you clogged yet??

So everyone remembers To Kill a Mockingbird from Freshman year, right??  *Silence*  I though so.  Regardless, in the beginning Scout and her brother are rolling around in a tire, am I right?  Somehow, Caroline and Tori managed to come across this weird, tire-tube-like object.  So we spent over an hour rolling each other around the yard in it, Scout-style.  (With exception of the creepy recluse neighbours.  The fact that fields separate the two has nothing to do with anything.)  This resulted in no small amount of bruises, twists, and grass stains.  I managed to roll into a tree, a house, a youngest sister, and almost a cat who jumped into the nearest tree with large yellow eyes and a threatening bottlebrush tail.  I highly recommend the sport to anyone else who randomly comes upon weird, tire-tube-like objects, because it happens so frequently.  It works especially well if you have a hill on which to begin.  "Are you ready yet?"  "Hang on, I've just got to g-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  Good times, oh yes, good times.  Then we scrapped the whole weird, tire-tube-like object concept and dogpiled each other.  This resulted in grass cramming both mouth and yoga pants, results of unsportsmanlike behaviour on behalf of the younger two.  :\  They believe they've escaped without restitution for their crimes, but they left their beds unprotected while they go off on a merry trailride.  Short-sheeting?  Why yes, don't mind if I do.... :D

Off to commit evil deeds.

So I got here, right?  All ready to cruise around Phusebox and see what's going on in everyone's life.  Yeah, it's gonna be fine.

Then a completely different site loaded and I about fell out of my chair.
In the good way, though.
Rock on, Nathan, it is awesomeness.  Better than dropping acid.  Not that I've ever dropped acid, but from what I hear it gets pretty interesting.

Hah, so Vegan and I went up to the Frist Centre to be all artsy and cultured.  I'm absolutely sick of landscapes with pink skies.  The French impressionists were pretty spiffy, though.  There was also what we referred to as "Fascist Big Brother Surveillance Art" involving weird jelly fish-like-lamps with cameras in them.  Those were everywhere.  Even near the French impressionists.  Gahh.  We got there well enough (no MapQuest to send us into a scrapyard -- hah!).  Then there was the getting out, and the looking for Ru-San's Sushi (on the opposite side of Nashville), and the circling Nashville five times, and encountering the Tarantula Tequila billboard TWICE IN FIVE MINUTES (I have a notorious fear of spiders) right in front of the light that WOULDN'T BLOODY TURN.  Finally we yelled out the window that we were giving up and going to Murfreesboro.  So we did, and got sushi there, with bigger green tea glasses.  Hah.  And I survived my second independent drive to Nashville.  It was significantly better than the first [no sobbing-on-the-top-level-of-a-parking-garage-convinced-I'm-going-to-die for me!!  :)]

I think my colour scheme on this post is worthy of at least one seizure.  :]

HEY YOU GUYS!!

I COOKED!!

....AND NOTHING WENT WRONG!!!!

(Naturally, I'm dropping the fudge face-down first thing tomorrow morning.)

Granted, it was just melting down two types of chocolate and some peanut butter (crunchy, blech), but STILL. It's MINE. And it's PERFECT. And it better sell out tomorrow if the student body collective value any limbs. No wait, this stuff is good. Don't buy any. It's mine. All mine. And it even looks artsy, what with the cool semi sweet chocolate swirly stuff going on. (I'll be derned if there was a melted Hershey bar in sight. "Derned," do you hear me??!) Fudge is awesome. It will become my college staple, along with Ramen noodles, really cheap sushi, and soy milk. All they require is some assembly and tinkering. No stovetops unless you're melting. No nothing unless you're melting and boiling, things I do in overabundance.

Except I think I'm sick from all the pre-assembly liquid fudginess.
Such a trial, right? *Wink*

Paganini: The Saga Begins
Subsequent attempts to teach myself the violin over the past hour have thus far yielded:

• Six stiff fingers
  
• Partial deafness in my left ear
  
• A crick in my neck
  
• A very vague inkling as to how the first few notes of "All I Ask of You" might go
  
• And (I kid you not), all four kittens lined up outside my bedroom door looking very perplexed.
  

I will soldier on. Just as soon as I wrap up these monologues for my English project.... Did Mrs. Wolff specify a length or perhaps level of detail? *Shrugs* Oooooh well!! Bwahaha. I have PUMPKIN PANTS (courtesy of Leland -- thank you Leland!!).

As far as the Mystical Corset of Bodily Compression: Part II goes.... The bobbin ran out on me. I have yet to locate the case of extra bobbins, although I suspect they are in my car. I was so close. All the pattern pieces actually matched each other. And then "I was like a moth, crushed on the wheel of...." to quote Chicago.

Anywho, I need a reason to claim the computer a little longer. School work!! Score.

You know, every terrorist out there must be laughing his or herself silly right now after the New York threats. Why are they going to bomb us? They don't need to do anything to incite fear. We do it ourselves. We make our enemies larger than life, phantoms who sift among us whispering emptily of slipping bombs into baby carriages when in reality they're just scared, hopeless, shrivelled little men and women with nothing to live for and everything to die about. I mean really, a bomb in a pram? Then suspicious baggage is reported right, left, and centre, and an entire section of the Pen Station is shut down because of "bubbling green liquid" in a soda. We make our enemies. We see them everywhere. We move in fear. The far-reaching Al Quaida don't have to do a thing. We are our own terrorists. Let the witch-hunt begin.

"First my blood pressure dropped, and I didn't want to read whatever was in the message. As my eyes scanned over the words, a slow grin spread across my face. Soon I was laughing uncontrollably, giggling with heart-stopping determination. It was all too good to be true. I wasn't worried about that, though. I wasn't worried about anything. Why ruin the moment with what might never happen?"

Teehee. *Grin-wink-blush*

....*Heart*

I'm feeling very silly and teenage-girlish right now. That hasn't happened in over a year. -ish.

But I won't tell you why I'm feeling very silly and teenage-girlish right now. That would ruin the surprise. If there is one. What?

I had Sun Drop, that ambrosial drink of pure caffeeeeeiiiiiiiine.

So last night was the "Hemophilia Extravaganza," -slash-benefit, as Jess put it. It was quite a lot of fun. Sam and I forgot how to dress ourselves, and I had to try to put shoes on in a corset. "I CAN'T REACH MY FEET!!" and "I have birthing hips?!" being notorious quotes (they were able to balance a glass on my skirt pleats). We got to the hotel and a woman takes one look at us, and without even asking just says, "Tenth floor, then take a left." Amusing. We danced. They fed us. Three-course meal with coffee afterward. Heaven. Plus a Shakespeare game. A man offered to pay Matt for his answers -- and Matt took him up on it. Hilarious. Afterward we all just kind of crashed at Leland's (literally -- bodies were strewn across the floor) and played HALO. Fakes taught me to salsa; it was awesome. (Meanwhile, Chops and Gene compete for rocket launchers.) I think I've been more traumatised during the Friday/Saturday part of this weekend than an entire run of faire.

Sigh... I have crap to do. Blogging has lost some of its charm recently. I just feel like none of this is really interesting to anyone. After all, they're just a rendition of an individual's memories.

Did I mention a kitten got stuck in the fridge? ....Yeah. Took us about two or three minutes to figure out where the disembodied mewling was coming from.

You are a
Social Liberal
(73% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(28% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Democrat



Link: The Politics Test on OkCupid Free Online Dating
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Those gods I've mentioned in the past two posts must be manic-depressive.

Most of the crap from yesterday has pretty much healed itself.

That, and I'm a homecoming court nominee.
Woot. *Grins*