Hey, girl, move a little closer

Junior philosopher, ahoy!
Remember lads: no quarter, for you certainly shall receive none.

Sexuality is a funny thing.

Like "ha-ha" funny? Yeah, it certainly can be. I think there's been, what, a group of people called comedians or something that can possibly make a lot of money telling bawdy jokes.
I don't know I haven't really looked into it that much, but I think it's like the third oldest profession after prostitute and professional murderer.

Until 1973, the American Psychiatric Association considered homosexuality to be a disorder

And before you get all butthurt at how close-minded they were, the debate centered more around what constituted a disorder than whether or not homosexuality was one.
Though they weren't exactly free thinkers back then.

One often gets the impression, however, that we are no more sure about these matters today, despite our modern veneer of self-assured sophistication, than we were in 1903, when Major-General Sir Hector MacDonald, knight of the British Empire, hero of the Battle of Omdurman, and an icon to every schoolboy in Scotland,

COMMAS.

put a gun to his head and blew out his brains. He did this to avoid court-martial for serious 'moral failures', code for homosexual practice.

Yeah death before dishonor.
Holy shit that's back when knights knew how to act like knights.

currently prevailing dogma that one is either gay or straight with no continuum between the two poles.

Well I'd say if you're between two poles you're more one than the other.

Anyway let's move on because I get the feeling we're not coming to a point ever.

What is truth, said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer.

Nope we're skipping this entry too.
Now there's a quote by Marcus Aurelius. I think it might be out of context.
Now there's a quote by one of the smartest people ever, Tacitus--
starting to get a little bored, frankly.
I have no idea what he's talking about. Some sort of politician?

When film producers mine the quarry of great literature for new movies, one of the perpetual problems they face is that there was usually someone there before them.

I always thought the problem of movie adaptations was they either miss the point entirely or have to cut 90% of it to fit it an hour and a half (or fourteen hours if it's a new movie).

Lynne Truss had a surprise hit a few years ago with her light and breezy (and did I say ‘surprise’?) bestseller, Eats, Shoots and Leaves, about, of all subjects, punctuation.

Something that could stand a little brushing up from you, friend.

It was a kind of anally retentive primal scream, if such a paradox can be imagined, and one which appealed to all of us anally retentive punctuators who insist on spelling out the words correctly when we text, not even baulking at the use of the semi-colon.

"Baulking" looking a little funny to me ("balk" is how I've always seen it spelled) but a quick check confirms that is perhaps a UK spelling (though it seemed somewhat hesitant to call it commonplace) so I'm giving you a free pass on this, but I'm watching you. Scum.

There must be quite a big constituency of anally retentive punctuators out there, because in the same vein, the author has returned with this perusal of manners (or rather, their demise) and the rise of rudeness in our increasingly belligerent societies.

Let's correct some sentences.
Ignoring for the moment "punctuator" isn't a word, of course, since he seems to be coining a new term.
If it were me I'd first edit "quite a big" to either "quite large" or simply "big" because "quite a big..." is needlessly wordy but if there were ever two terms to describe philosopher and blogging in general those would be they, and then I'd probably look into splitting some of these massive paragraph sentences into smaller sentences.
See how annoying that gets? Fuck me.

That’s important because many literary writers seem to think that ‘literary’ means that Joe Soap shouldn’t be reading it. There’s no such attitude here; on the other hand, it’s not an easy read.

>not easy to read
>for the general public
>general public
>read
Well I think I found a flaw in "David Pearce's" master plan.

Ritual, whether it be at a Tridentine mass or in the precise depth of bow one person renders to another, is all about putting the participant into a particular state of mind; it’s about being, not thinking, and in order to read this book you really need to be Japanese.

Tridentine?
Why do I really need to be Japanese when it's a book written in English by a non-Japanese person?
Does this imply that you can somehow capture being Japanese better than the Japanese themselves have done it? Is it possible to be more British than the British? How could one even being to objectively quantify how part of a culture a person is in a given culture?

Either Magnus Mills occupies a surreal, sub-Kafka world, or the rest of us do and just don’t know it

This sounds so much like the opening line to a book I'd have to read for school I got chills thinking about what my late June and early July schedule will be.
Douche chills, that is.
Christ all mighty. Well I guess that's it for today. I have some shit I'd rather be doing.

He was a man of letters

He was a man of letters and had many long correspondents with many people from many different walks of life, but most of them were cunts. He didn't have the unusual honor of meeting most of these people face to face, but with the then-modern technology communication was near instant anyway.
That's what they'll say about me after I die.
My lady (and I use that in the most sarcastic way possible) Danika has deigned to respond to my letter:

Dear Tim,
i write the way i think. there is not thought process in between the words and my fingers. there is a deeper meaning beneath all the nonsense, i guess you'd just have to know me to know waht i am talking about. i don't speak like this in real life all the time, but these words are written in the exact way and order that they were thought out.

Danika

mybrainisfulloffuck.jpg
Sooo I'm just here taking a break from hunting monsters because I find myself with almost enough parts for about a million different armor sets but I'm missing one integral component for each. I'm thinking of going for Lagiacrus armor because-- I don't know, but eh.
Barioth armor looks p. cool but I've never hunted a Barioth before and I don't really feel like learning an entire new pattern of attacks when I've fought Lagiacrus successfully a few times, and Lagiacrus looks almost as cool and is probably more useful to boot.
Oh yeah, I bitch about people here, don't I? Well let's fix that right now.

The pre-calc final (part 1) was today. I don't have much to say about it, good or bad. It just drained me and left me oddly hyper.

>drained
>hyper
High school girls.

Walking home today took forever. I just dragged my feet along, looked at the ground, and as I grabbed my keys out of my bag before I hit the back door I heard my neighbor call my name.

This is why I don't talk to neighbors. They probably want something from you.

They waved me over, and so I sighed, held my keys in my hand, and walked over to greet them.

Can't talk. I, uhh, left the stove on.

Mrs. F. asked me how much time I had left in school. I told her we had 8 official days left, and we talked about all of my summer plans.

I'm very busy this summer.
As far as they know. Besides, define "busy". Lagiacrus won't kill itself, anyway.

Mr. O explained that their grandson, Tyler, was coming to stay with them for the summer.

Is Tyler a chick? Nope? Don't give a fuck.

Tyler is my age, so they were wondering if I wouldn't mind hanging out with him, showing him around Easton, making him feel welcome, etc.

Oh my Christ why do I have to babysit an adult for you?

Why should I spend my precious time with some yuppie?

Yeah exactly.

But the morally conscious teen in my agreed.

>Morally conscious
There is not a moral choice to be made here. Both possible results are about as "good" as each other.
Stating the moral choice is to hang with the grandson (which you stated you don't want to do) implies, what, his time is somehow more important than your time? Obliging people is the morally superior option? The harder route is somehow the moral one simply by virtue it's more difficult?
I don't get it, man.

Today:
Today was hot. I wore a dress, a dress I love, because it shows me off in a way I enjoy.

WHORE.

Spent the day barefoot, knee-deep in the clean, clear waters of Assateague.

Nya-ha, a denizen of Old Country.
Now there's a lot of words about New York I'm not reading.
Now there's some shit about writing letters to dead people by putting them in a bottle and floating them down river and I'm suddenly reminded of the Police song.

Mom always said that it was good luck if it rained after someone died.

No, sorryimsorry's (ugh) mom, it's good luck to have rain on your wedding, not your funeral.

Today, I live for the chance to see tomorrow.

And then when tomorrow comes I live to see the day after that-- wait, it's self-perpetuating.

I live for a brighter future. I live for the idea that you can only get so low before you have to pick back up...

It's like everything I've ever said on this blog.
Except in reverse.

James (Jim) Clarence Higgins died May 16, 2010 at 8:45 PM.
He was alone.

And I will never forgive myself for letting him die that way.

"When we die, we die alone."
Oh my fuck her best friend and her ex-boyfriend died. They're the same person, but still this will get insufferable quick.

I apologized over and over but I mean really, how do you forgive fucking up prom?

There will never, ever be an event as important as high school prom.
Wait--

Day 26 - Your Definition of Love.


Oh look it's this shit again.

Love is when you look at a person and can't seem to remember your life before them.

Love is like a fortune cookie: full of trite wisdom and not really a fortune at all.

Today is the U.S. National Day of Prayer, and believe me when I say I used that to my advantage.

Work is prayer. Back to it.

Man I'd make an awesome leader. No economic hardships under my reign.

Jim went into the hospital earlier tonight with a fever of 105.8
He's had it for 4 days now...

Faith said they're screening him for cancer again. I pray to God it isn't cancer. Not again.
I already went though this.

Wait, you went through it? What about Jim? I'd say he's the one with the problem, here.
Oh forget it. This has already gone on way too long.
Be seeing you, fags.

It's one of those days

It's one of those days on Livejournal where the only people updating only do so once every two years and have only done so four times total. Most of the entries revolve around "I resolve to post more." It never seems to happen.
Wouldn't you just start a new journal as part of some sort of "fresh start" plan? No, I guess you can't let those four golden sentences pass you by. Four sentences every eight years-- an entire book is only 10,000 years in the future.
I finally found a blog of some substance but the substance was so incredibly boring I found myself reading it without really retaining anything, sort of like school.
Holy fuck I cannot believe how dull you people are today. Is it a full moon or something?
No, it's 39% and waning. Jeeeesus Christ this was like extracting teeth, and I'm pretty much settling.

fidning it hard not to choke on the optimism that's being shoved down my throat.
although it has been getting increasingly easier to keep my head above water, if you know what i mean.

... No, I can't say that I do.
Hey, writing this shit is kind of like doing the "capture a Lagiacrus" quest without Cha-Cha, if you know what I mean. NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN EXPLAIN YOURSELF.

came across so many childhood photos of myself. it's interesting for me to try to see my soul inside that little body.

What, are you a demon or something? You don't see like mere mortals do, instead you see the mortal corruption they leak so people like Grey Knights and Exorcists are totally invisible to you?

my life is rather boring, but it's not half as lonely as it might seem from the outside looking in.

Is it boring or lonely? Is this implying you're not boring if you're not lonely?

keep your eyes locked with the pavement, you're in no position to be pointing fingers.
but niether am i. and yet here i am again.

inhale the sin, exhale the regret.

1. what did we used to have in common before i found myself?
was conversation always this strained? or did we just never speak?

I imagine a conversation with you is more of a struggle to understand what the fuck is happening than anything in particular.I always love it when people say that. I NEED TO FIND MYSELF HURRR. I hope a person says that to me one day so I can just point at them and say "FOUND YOU YOU'RE RIGHT THERE."

2. i feel like i used to just be a walking mixture of everyone elses' emotions.

Christ this is almost a religious experience, isn't it?
This is where you find God and become yourself by adopting the doctrine millions upon millions of people before you have-- errr, how are you unique, again?
Hey, hey, if we're all God's children, what's so special about Jesus?

slipped into a dream for an entire week, and woke up to find that things had changed since i had given in to temptation.

Holy shit has anyone played Morrowind? That's exactly what this is. She's an Ascended Sleeper.
It explains everything: the not making much sense, the apparent worship of dark powers, the sleeping for weeks on end-- well there's only one cure for being a 6th House Cultist.

i'm just trying to remain as simple as possible,
are you?

You have never had a simple day in your life, don't even kid.

it's clear to see that when we said we'd find ourselves, you headed in the wrong direction.

That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it? Oh we need to figure out who we are but you're clearly wrong about yourself. I somehow know you better than you know you.
Bitch at least I make sense from word to word.

beginning to see the world through brand new eyes.woke up this morning and just understood. it's hard to explain.

Holy fuck that's almost word for word a level up message in Morrowind. This is a journal for a Morrowind character.

i am a master painter when it comes with words.

i could cradle you with sweet nothings, give me just a moment and i'll tell you all the lies you've been dying to hear. i could... but i won't.

I think it's time to leave a comment.
Dear Danika,

What the fuck is wrong with you? Why have I been reading this for a half hour and cannot for the life of me figure out what you're on about? Are you like this in real life?

Yours,

Tim.
And she's disabled anonymous comments. Well, fortunately--
There, all posted. Hopefully this'll get some answers.
Good thing I got this Livejournal account.
See I'm not just funny jokes. I'm getting to the bottom of this.

i remember the days when there was no caution. when we took leaps of faith without a second thought.

"No Fear! No Pity! NO REMORSE!"

if there's a rehab for adrenaline junkies i think i may need to aquire a scholarship.

Scholarship for rehab. Pretty sure that's not how rehab works. Oh, forget it. We could literally be here forever trying to figure this out. I'll just have to wait for my comment to pull through. I'll update everyone on this important mission Friday.

Oh Shit

Right, this. Completely forgot about this until just now. But that's okay, I'll be sure to wind the post time back until it was Monday so I didn't officially miss a day. Anyway here we have some shit.Sorry wait, no: that's a link to Livejournal. I meant this shit specifically.

You know. I really should be banned from my own mind sometimes. And sometimes like today.

Oh look. It's this shit again.

I am so brutally honest with myself, I'm sure there are people who would say I am doubting myself, or wallowing in self-pity or even just being too hard on myself.

Hard on.

I've had a friendship for a number of years. It's been flirty, it's been easy, it's been fun.... and it's been very one sided.

I really care about whatever the fuck it is I'm reading.

Today I realized I'm the greatest friend ever in some ways.

Today I realized I'm the most modest person ever.

I know, for most of my friends I'm just the go to girl...

You know it's a shame all bloggers' egos don't let them form groups because there are a lot of kindred spirits literally a click away. How many fucking times have I read this in my lifetime?
However many times it's two too many.

this whole journal is filled with the angst and anger and bitterness that they bring to my life and the fact that I never come away feeling loved I always come away feeling like a miserable failure where they are concerned, not so much with this other friend.

Oh boy the second time in two updates I wish I had read something before I started writing.

Okay. So, the sense of deja vu is too strong, and the feeling of anger is intense and the WTF factor is astronomical. So what? Fuck that, that's what.

Holy shit, what?

I can't talk to my girlfriend... why?

Oh, for the record: I'm pretty sure this is a woman updating. Just in case there's some confusion at the gender here.

I think I've become confused again.

I feel like reverting to Mr. Miyagi advice but I'm not even sure if his wisdom was deep enough to fix this mess.

Or maybe I just wanted someone for a minute who wanted me. It's so unusual to find someone,

IT'S NOT UNUSUAL TO BE LOVED BY ANYONE
IT'S NOT UNUSUAL TO HAVE FUN WITH ANYONE
Holy shit I think this blog just turned me gay. Tom Jones lyrics right here on Edie Finds a Corpse.

whom you can see it on their face, hear it in their voice, and know in your heart and soul mean it when they tell you, you are beautiful, sexy, smart, and irresistible.

Try a little harder
Something's wrong, you're not naive you must be stronger
ooooh baby, try
hey girl
move a little closer
you're too shy too shy, hush hush eye to eye

I don't know what brought that on but it's a pleasant chance of pace from "WAAAAH ME".
Strange, flirty, online sexy with a single person, mouthy, evil plotting, teasingly angry, and dominant?

Online sexy. I cannot think of a more pathetic choice of words than that.

I am just stupid. Okay, off to bed for me so I can get up and have coffee with one of my girls

You have kids?
No, no.
Nope, not buying it.
She must mean it like "one of my GRRRRRRRLS."

So. Not only do I have a spanking partner.... I have a girlfriend.

What.

she wants to be broken and made to cry so she can get it all out, she's sooooOOOOOOOoooo completely opposite of me... it's weird :-)

it's not that i'm not real.... I am.

What. Oh, I get it. This entire blog is the product of some sort of weird random number generator and a list of words. That makes a lot of sense, actually.

You can't be this screwed up in the noggin and not be real.

I gotta piss, excuse me for a minute.

Why am I this screwed up? I keep asking myself how I am managing to make myself worse instead of better. And I don't know.

I also got a snack.

I guess it would help, if I managed to just be at peace with who I am. What I am, and how others see me. I think that's the hard part.

Oh Christ is she still on about this?
What proceeds is quite literally a list of character traits and I'm sorry I seem to be having a lot of trouble with this because my eyes involuntarily cross and I forget to breathe every time I look at it.

I've discovered I'm unhinged, irrational, unstable, and wholly more emotional about things right now.

And other words Webster's Thesaurus tells me.

Even when I realize I'm being a hypocrite, foolish, and stupid, I still manage to understand I'm being all of those things, while still being hurt and jealous.

:3

Ok. I know that I've been weird, hard, harsh, mean, cold and foolish before..... but when have I ever been forgiving?

NO MERCY FOR THE MISGUIDED seriously this blog is 90% lists of character traits.

I'm so done. Done with public posting.

You are a filthy, filthy liar and I hate you for it. If that were true you fucking stupid cow I wouldn't have to read any more of your inane thoughts or list of adjectives that do/you wish did apply to you after October 31st, 1999.
Yeah and I see you're listening to Duran Duran currently well know what? Fuck you. Doesn't cut it. Had this been entry number one I would have been willing to back out now but no, we're in too deep now.

Fuck it. It's all just bullshit anyways right?

Oh my fucking Christ I wish I could hate you to death.
I know it's been all fun and games before with "lol kill yourself" and "I hope you get trapped in a burning elevator" but I mean it this time. I hope you press that button to go down from the 17th floor in an 18 story office building only to walk into an open shaft.
Fuck you.

I'm sad, I'm depressed, I'm angry, I'm frustrated, I'm .... I'm being horribly selfish in the fact that I don't want to do this anymore.

Nope fuck it I'm done.

Yeah yeah yeah

Today we have another one of them writing-types. This one fancies herself a real author, too, with a reputation that can tarnish and everything. Considering I know everything about everything and I've never heard of her someone is living a deluuuuuusion.

Right now, one of my sisters is in Fairbanks at the State Meet for track. She's doing the triple jump today, long jump tomorrow. I'm hoping she does well. If she isn't first in state for the long, she will be impossible.

Uh-huh.

Another one of my sisters is in Utah, where today her fiance is getting his port removed and a central line put in. He's got a bone marrow transplant going on, because he's had cancer.

Oh. How does bone marrow transplant and cancer get less screen time than the long jump?
Perhaps not what I'd focus on but then again I'm not a real author like you so what do I know?

And my last sister is undergoing a road trip with her friend, because driving up to see our littlest sister (4'11 3/4 on a good day) long jump at state is worth six hours in a car with your best friend.

Do short people do well on the long jump? I imagine you'd want tall people because there's less of a height difference between you and the bar, but then again short people would have less to get over the bar so maybe--

And me?

I'm working on a potentially dangerous manuscript.

What, is it the Necronomicon or the Libre Chaotica? It poses some sort of threat to your sanity of the very fabric of reality?

It is about as reputation-tarnishing as it gets for someone who writes horror and adventure and everything unromantic and unfeminine.

... Twilight?
If you're writing Twilight I have some bad news.

In fact, it's even worse than that lame-o princess novel, and we all know what I thought about that.

Ah yes, we all know about that, don't we people?

Technically, it's a sequel to the Ellis story I wrote and didn't tell anyone about because I was ashamed to have written it. But that's only very technically.

How the fuck do you "technically" have a sequel? Either it is or it isn't. That's one of those things where there is no gray area, really.
I guess she'd be one to argue it's "in the same universe as her previous story" yeah well guess what: fuck you. That's not a sequel and only litfag nerd faggots argue about shit like that anyway.

Mathletics, an exploration of intelligence in high school, and possibly a dash of tutor/student relations stirred together in a girl's attempt to cope with having two math teachers for parents, and a set of best friends named after characters from Lord of the Rings.

Named after characters from Lord of the Rings? What kind of parent is going to torture their kid with names like Boromir or Imrahil? That's what all the names are like, by the way. They're all some sort of bizarre mix up of Irish and Welsh.
It works in a universe where everyone has crazy names but--
no, no, why am I still talking about this?

I have three younger sisters and they're all really very pretty.

I really care about whatever the fuck it is I'm about to read.

One of them has this amazing curly hair, and another has the most toned body ever--she's a size two or something and has these wide light brown eyes. The last looks a lot like our mother, except the whole lip piercing, but hey, her fiancee has cancer. I can't blame her for the bad fashion choice just now.

Wow.
Wow.
Her fiance (one e one day you morons will learn this) has cancer and you choose that opportunity to attack her fashion sense.
What a bunch of passive aggressive bullshit. That's really mean-spirited, and that's saying a ton coming from someone who frequently tells people to kill themselves.

My mom was all sorts of popular, when she was younger. Sewed like a goddess,

Goddesses are well known for sewing-- err.
I guess the Fates are, but outside of that I don't really recall Athena or Aphrodite taking up the needle in their spare time.

My sisters all inherited some permutation of that gene, and I've always felt really disappointed that all I got was her bad eye sight, instead. Being told that I'm awkward or write horrible monster crap has kind of been my thing for the past twenty years or so.

Oh, okay. You're the ugly sister. I guess that explains why you magnify anything bad that happens in their lives because to you that's justified.
Oh but that's okay, you'd probably argue. You were gifted (like it is popularly believed) with something inside that's better or somehow missing in them. Yeah well that's a pointless argument. The fact is you are jealous.

Being pretty was theirs. I've always felt like the awkward, maladjusted sister, mostly because they've told me as much my entire life.

And it's true, apparently.

I'm still a writer. And sharing the amazing parts of life is just as important as sharing the parts that make me uncomfortable or provoke my muses into gray-scaled disaster. It's all part of that human condition thing.

You know the Muses, at least classically, don't like people with an ego.

It's 3:00 a.m. and neither of my room-sharing sisters are asleep.

So?

One is scribbling madly in a notebook (literally doodling circles) while watching Moulin Rouge and the other is trying to teach herself to solve a Rubik cube.

Soooo zany xD

Since the younger one's friend committed suicide, she's been sleeping oddly, if at all. She's been more erratic, but tonight tops it so far. She's not planning on sleeping, because she "can't sleep."

All right pro writer, I'm ready for some sort of interior exploration now.

The other sister has no obligations, no responsibilities, and no job. She's just drifting, so the lack of sleep while she tries to find a place doesn't bother her.

All right, pro writer, I'm ready for some sort of interior exploration--

My third sister is no doubt asleep in bed after a hard day's work, followed by helping take care of her fiance (who has cancer, and pretty much needs all the care she can give).

My sisters are all in fairly rough places, right now. I understand that they're really struggling with things.

That's it? "They're really struggling with things"?
Look, kid, I'm not saying you had to go full romantic on me and spend an entire book on this but some sort of glimpse into the ol' heart makes people want to care about your characters and not, well, not give a shit.
You know if you were really good at this writing thing you could have worked in some sort of implication about your sisters instead of breaking off into a paragraph of exposition but that is asking a lot of someone in Livejournal.

Sweet dreams, world, and if any of you should stumble upon a magic cure, please do feel free to pass it long.

Now I can't get that Eurythmics song out of my head.

Would I like musicals as much as I do if I had any talent or aptitude of my own?

That's an interesting question.
It's probably like magic, actually. Once you know what the illusion is you're amazed you missed it the entire time.

Today, I read a book that was so beyond my own personal abilities.

Huh you're going to have to tell me what that's like sometime.

It's burned into my brain, the amazing overwhelming level of awesome. It used to be, so many books astounded me. So many of them were brilliant. Wonderful.

I didn't mean now, Christ.

It’s easy to start the novel with a character already badly damaged from a traumatic life. They hate the world. They’re jaded. They’re cynical.

It's easy to start off with a low point. You know, instead of introducing the characters, building up some sort of relationship with the audience and then bringing out the tragic shit it's easier just to bypass all that and start with the whining.
I cannot believe how bad people are at this whole storytelling thing in 2010.
Stephen King is turning in his grave.

Look, isn’t it interesting what trauma does to a character?

Not really if your characters are all whiny sad sacks.

And anyway, isn’t it easier to relate to a character that is lamenting about the hardships they’ve undergone?

NOOOOOOO. It's easier to relate to characters that act like people. Jesus fuck are you really this clueless at everything?

It’s a lot more difficult to create a fully-fleshed character, living in the now, working through issues they’re only just now beginning to face.

You're trolling me. I got it.

Explain it to me, if you can, because I see it again and again, and everyone tells me it's more interesting, more exciting.

I just don't see it.

Ha, ha, youuuu.
Well on that note I'm going to go do something not so headache-inducing.

Let's HURRRRRG

So after my major surgery and some minor stomach problems after the prescribed antibiotics turned on me I'm completely fine now. They also gave me Vicodin to "deal with the pain" but since my delicate system apparently can't deal with simple antibiotics I think I'd wind up pulling a Jimi Hendrix. Besides, the pain of having four teeth violently wrenched from my jaw pales in comparison to the pain you retards put me through three times a week.
I'm not even on Tylenol anymore.
It might be my superhuman constitution, come to think on it.

I am officially a second year pharmacy student! I survived this semester unscathed and managed to pass all of my classes! THANK GOD.

Yeah there's no escaping this theme today. PASSED ALL MY CLASSES HURR DE DERP.

I may not be the student of the year or the top 10% of my class, but I feel proud of myself for at least not failing this super ridiculous program.

Waiting for the "it's harder than medicine!" line but pharmacy technically is so I'm not really sure what's going to happen now.

I'm going to celebrate by spending the weekend in Baton Rouge watching my amazing boyfriend graduate.
I feel so grown up. :D

Oh, okay. Whatever.

I know, I know. First I delete my livejounal, and then I undelete it and post twice in one week. What is the matter with me?

I'd say the first time around you had a good idea then you lost it and then really lost it. Twice.

I originally decided to delete my livejournal because, let's face it, no one really updates that much anymore.
I will go months without posting, and when I do it is never anything interesting or particularly on topic in my life.

Had to do some minor editing to force her to the point.
Also: glad I picked this blog after reading this. I know most blogs end up this way but here's the guarantee.

I guess the main reason I aborted Mission Delete LiveJournal is because sometimes I just need a place to get these thoughts out of my system for everybody (i.e. nobody) to see.

Oh if only they would invent some sort of collection of blank pages bound and with a cover and with the word "journal" stenciled on the front in fancy gold letters.
Hey wait--

Only two finals left. Tomorrow's final is ethics/law and it will be easier than pie.

That's why I got a B in my educational psychology class. Apparently "consequentialism" isn't an acceptable philosophy in this, the year of the pussy 2010.
I'm not saying it's right I'm just saying that tends to be how things are. People don't really care if you, like, really really meant well. They want results, and the better the result the more the bad shit you did on the way can be justified.
Besides other famous consequentialists include Machiavelli and the Buddha so clearly some smart people share this view.
Guess I'm too smart for these fags, huh.

To celebrate, I went out to lunch with Laura and her sister Mary, played some Final Fantasy XIII, and Mom made chicken pot pie.

>Celebrate
>FFXIII
Girls playing video games, man.
Oh but it's okay, you might say. That's just the series evolving. No, no it fucking is not. That game is a step back in every category that counts. The only thing that game did right was the social networking (I.E., the part girls like). PUBLISH YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS STRAIGHT TO FACEBOOK YO.
"Oh look, I sat through three melodramatic, soap opera-esque scenarios in a row. More Gamerscore for me!"
Now I'm reading about how she broke her Zune and I'm so flabbergasted at how fucking dumb this is I forgot to breathe for about ten seconds.

And that day, not only did it fall out of my pocket on to the hard tile while I was walking, but it hit the floor, I yanked it up my the headphones, let it slip out of my hands, it hits the floor again, and I accidentally kick it in this big jumble. It was glorious.

What, were you trying to break it?

So my Zune is broken. It froze. I restarted it in my usual fashion, but this time it makes an ominous clicking noise and goes to a "5) Contact Support" screen. Luckily, it's still under warranty until June.

You know everyone goofs on Microsoft for being this evil mega corporation (which they are) but if that were my company I'd take one look at the Zune you state in writing to habitually drop and say "no, you're too stupid to keep it working. I'm not going to fix your fucking problem for you."

I can't decide what I'm going to do for lunch. It's not even lunchtime yet, but there is absolutely nothing left to do but contemplate lunch.

And apparently gnaw my ear off about it. Holy fuck, I could be training Pokemon, hunting monsters, shooting gangsters, working on Warhams-- today is my oyster and yet here I sit. Listening to you prattle on about nothing.

For all those about to vomit from all the love talk in my former posts (or for those just sick of love talk from Valentine's Day in general), I'm about to gush about my boyfriend.

No I got that out of the way yesterday. But please, this is why I don't vomit but once in 12 years. Lot of practice thanks to douchey blogs.

I'm sooooo in love with Brad. This is the happiest I've ever been. It's absolutely perfect. I know I'm being cheesy. I know, I know, I KNOW. I'm just so glad I've got someone so amazing and sweet and smart and funny and AWESOME.

Suddenly the guitar solo going through my headphones seems comically out of place.
FUCKING RAD. Oh by the way: boyfriends.

We can just chill. He sits at his computer and plays Heroes of Newearth. I sit on his bed, knit, and watch Supernatural.

A cynical man might suggest this is why you get along so well: he can sit and play his shitty Warcraft 3 ripoff and you don't bitch at him constantly.

One day we're getting a French bulldog named Jean Claude and a white Persian cat named Rocky. This shit is happening.

What?
I was going to ask for the context of this but on second thought: no, keep it to yourself.

My second favorite part of the beach trip was listening to the first Harry Potter book on audiobook with Brad. The actual sand, sun, and salt water did not make the top five list. I'm not really a beach person. >>;;

You're boring.

It's been over eight months since Brad and I have started dating. It's clearly not our anniversary or anything, but today I just realized how long it's been.

Oh my God you're one of those people. I've met people like you. "It's our two month and three week anniversary!"
"Errr, congratulations. I guess."
Seriously is every day that much of an accomplishment for you?

My longest relationship was ten months long. Yeah, that's a little sad compared to one of my friends who's been in one for five years now. (oughcougherikacough) But even that ten month relationship had its own issues and drama well before the eight month mark.

I just wiped my mouth and got all this cool bloody crust stuff off. That's kind of what this blog reminds me of, actually.

So in reality I've actually finished two of my twelve DS games. Pokemon and Phoenix Wright.

Oh.
Oh.
Oh this problem can be solved gentlemanly. We will battle and whoever loses must leave the internet.
I'd like to warn you I have a new head smash Aggron, freshly RNG bred from SoulSilver. Basically anything not really defensive and resistant to rock is going down.

Recently Brad has gotten me addicted to MapleStory. I have a level 32 fire/poison magician.

>MapleStory
>game

I am tired of being sick! First I had this gunk growing in the back of my throat that made it hard to swallow. Yesterday I couldn't stop throwing up.

OH BOO HOO. Holy shit look at that winner head smashing his way through all these shitty bug Pokemon and taking no recoil damage.
It's a dinosaur made of metal. Going to give him rock polish and I'm thinking either metal burst or low kick. Metal burst seems like a cool idea but since I'm attempting to outspeed things with him I don't think a move that only works if you go second is such a smart idea. Also his glaring weaknesses to common move types mean he probably won't be able to take much of a hit.

In other news, I am almost done knitting my first pair of socks.

Although I could give him a focus sash, ensuring he can take a hit then metal burst it right back in their face but that seems kind of contrary to the point of Aggron as a physical sweeper.
Anyway I have a couple of movesets to finish and most of them involve mining for red shards, so while listening to prattle on about socks is real interesting and all I have to PREPARE FOR WAR.

So you want to get featured on Livejournal

Why would you want to do such a stupid, drama-inviting thing? Well, it's your life, so I guess I can't talk you out of this, but I have noticed a recurring theme with "spotlight blogs" on Livejournal. First, most of them are communities first and blogs second, so I guess you do have to invite other mouthbreathers to join in on your fun, but that's all right since that's more attention for you.
Second and perhaps most important is you must have every single safety lock on the blog. You have to have the one at the start where you have to agree you're 14 or older, then every subsequent post needs to have that same agreement before you can read.
If I'm 14 coming in, I must be 14 when I click on an entry, asshole.
Also the current featured blog has an entire two posts (both introductions) so this leads me to believe the amount of child safety you have on your blog far outweighs any actual content in terms of how good it is.
So we have twoooo possible choices for a blog today. "The Truth That Came Before" (???) or 「いつでも今日が、いちばん楽しい日」　（？？？）
I have some grammar reservations about the latter but we'll skip over that. Rest assured I don't think it makes as much sense to normal people as it makes to her.
I think we'll be taking a foray into weeaboodom today because reading this other cunt's blog has me almost immediately wondering what's going on with my new Head Smash Aggron.

Came pretty close to ragequitting FFXI a couple weeks ago after being tortured by a particular piece of bullshit known as the Thief AF questline and following that up with more crappy salvage runs.

I'm sorry I take back everything I was about to say about your blog.

The quest in question pits you against a series of dice rolls that repeatedly screwed me over, turning what should have been a 30~ minute in-game trip into a boring and frustrating five hour chore that took me a week to finish.

Actually if I recall you just have to beat three people at dice, so realistically it'll take as long as it'll take. I think the average time is something like three hours, mostly because the game appears to cheat like a motherfucker.

Then I got my Scholar past level 60 and finished that set of AF quests and... oh yes. :D (PS: SE, salvage is still retarded)

"Do you want to do a salvage run?"
"Sure."
"Let's do Dynamis instead and cause a lot of drama and fall apart instead."
And indeed we did.
That's the only reason they invite you to any Linkshell activity, by the way. Your entire goal is to find treasure. You contribute nothing to the actual fights as a thief.

And, actually, said annoying dungeon in Okage prompted me to start Persona 4, which... wow... is awesome. I mean, I enjoyed P3, but P4 is just... wow. Squee goes here, etc.

>Squee
Here our relationship turns.

Considering the hardware, the game looks fantastic, the story's pacing is good and tone is a little lighter,

>story is a little lighter
>these games typically focus on the apocalypse
Soooooo my main problem with Persona 4.

Enjoying the Obama administration yet? Hope you're exercising your rights while you still have them.

Yeah because McCain would have been so much better.

Finished Persona 3 + FES stuff. Game was fun, but too long.

>fun
>too longWhat the fuck is wrong with you?

Someone was asking for some advice on Monk the other day... when in reply to my comments about Monk's AF he said he was too superior (aka lazy) to use macros, that set off some alarms,

They punch things. I went 55 levels of samurai and 55 of warrior without a single macro. You don't need macros as melee classes. Not while leveling, no.

and when he said he had a haubergeon ready for when he got to level 59, I about slit my wrists (not really) and told him he should just stop playing the game before his fail got even worse.

??? Has this fucking game changed that much since I quit?

The story was totally whack as far as concept with a worldview I can't agree with,

OH LOOK AT ME CAPTAIN LITFAG THIS STORY CONFLICTS WITH MY WORLD VIEW SO THEREFORE IT IS A BAD GAME.

Well, on Tuesday I made the trip up to San Antonio for my Microsoft certification test. San Antonio's roads are a mess (lots of construction) and it was hard to find the place...

>San Antonio
>San Antonio
>SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS

You bet. As someone whose post-apocolypse gaming goes back as far as the old game Wasteland, I was really looking forward to Fallout 3.

Big fan of the post-apocalypse setting and can't even be bothered to learn to spell it in the interim 21 years between Wasteland and Fallout 3.

Spent Single's Awareness Day on FFXI getting Samurai from level 68 to 71,

Heh, heh, heh.
So I found her character in FFXI (I think) and I must say for someone so pro at leveling and gearing her gear is pretty average-to-good at best.
Anyway I'm now bored of her bullshit. I must turn my attention to the MAJOR SURGERY I'm having tomorrow.

Nay, Verily

Early summertime is kind of a bad time for blogs, as I've learned these past two years. Livejournal enters a sort of "SCHOOL SUCKS :(" hell where all anyone posts about is how much their high school sucks and how glad they are to be done high school/done the year. It's really uncanny, like a chorus in some sort of ancient tragedy where 15 people say the exact same words at the exact same time, only this isn't rehearsed.
Anyway here we are for the day.
The first post is entitled "Soft brissles don't always work well" and presumably she means "bristles" but who knows?

School is a bitch. Sometimes I wake up and don't even feel like going. I fall asleep in my history class when Ms. Wynne is showing a movie about the world wars and heroic presidents because she dims the lights and can't see us.

"My school day was so incredibly boring let me relive it here for you in detail." Great, thanks a pant load.

I HATE HOMEWORK - writing essays always feel like a long, difficult process; reading textbooks and absorbing it while taking notes is painful (that's why I hardly do it).

Now I'm left with the perplexing thought that she might think other people like to do this shit and she's somehow unique in not wanting to do it. Well, Livejournal users are always looking for an excuse to think about how "there (sic) sooooooo speshul (hilarious ironic misspelling)", but really this one is so contrary to reality I have to point it out.

But despite all that, I still want to learn. All of my required classes are full but nevertheless, I want to waste my time on other subjects and go through all that process times two because my brain feels that it may be a useless essential.

What?
I always like it when people say "my brain feels" or "my heart feels" no, idiot, that's all you.

Because that's what's school all about. :) Not the rush to transfer because you want to jump right into a career, but rather obtaining knowledge that has absolutely nothing to do with your intended major. To me, it just makes more sense that way.

Two of the most useful classes I've ever had had absolutely nothing to do with my major.
Maybe you suck at picking classes?

I must have characteristic or personality issues. The Buttface is such a good mineral in my water, but ... I keep on raging about stupid things! :(

whatthefuckamireading.jpg

Oh hey look all my grades are posted. Another successful semester for me. Good work, me.
Ughhhh. I feel guilty for not going to school for the ICC Council event. But that versus English homework ... I need to get this shizz done. Adding to this terrible internal chaos,

"Truly we are all children of Chaos," said the mad god, "how could we be any other way?"
"I don't know, but it seems to me we aren't trying very hard to the contrary."
"Oh, you will come to see in due time how fruitless effort is."
Quotes from awesome books here in Edie Finds a Corpse.

Here's a warning: Never buy vegan cheese.

>vegan
>cheese
FUCKIN' VEGAN CHEESE, HOW DOES IT WORK?

I don't get this; you comment me on facebook, saying "things just doesn't feel the same anymore" and then not answering me back. First of all, that's bad grammar.

>bad grammar
>improper use of the semicolon
Sooooooooo pot calls kettle black, new territory here on Livejournal.

Nineteen years, grandpa. I was at least six months short of meeting you. I've heard plenty great stories about you. :D Wish you were here.

How I wish, how I wish you were here?

The sisters are probably going to kill me, but I bought my old Samsung phone back! :)

So, so you think you can tell heaven from hell?
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

So uhhh, U.S. History test was a bust. This course was taken two years ago but why the fugg do you have to start with the abundant amount of wars?! :'(

The United States' history started with a war. I think that's appropriate, actually.

English class reeks of suckiness because I dislike homework and reading. O_O
I enjoy gender studies though. I have learned something already. :D

>gender studies
>learning
Well I'm glad someone gets something out of that train wreck.
Speaking of studies in different anatomies I finally completed my Barroth armor set in Monster Hunter. Looks pretty balling if I do say so myself.

Getting a 74% on my Ethnics test saddens me, but I realize that I deserve it for not having studied.

Surely she means "ethics" test and not... Ethnic test.
Anyway this is getting so fucking boring I think it's time to find something else to do.

NOT A WEEABOO GUYS

>not a weeaboo
>has a Pokemon avatar
Sooooo I think we have some catching up to do.
Hold on for just a moment as I adjust my eyes to "zoom" and "color desaturation" just so I can get through this and-- OH FUCK EYES DON'T WORK THAT WAY.

I'm excited, cause I'm good at saving up money and I have like.. $40 in the bank now.. >_>;; when I get over $200 I'mma start buying some lucky deviants subscriptions again! :D

Good at saving money but you sure are not good at spending money.

You know what I hate? It's a website. You know what I hate on this specific website? The users. Why? They're consisted of dumbasses, 10 year old girls, weeabos, and retarded fans of some retarded child-star. ANYWAY, I CANNOT stand when people don't even BOTHER reading the descriptions of Youtube videos. I really hate it. Your answer is right there, your opinion is fucking rude and makes you look stupid.

Oh shit where are your videos? You're easy to troll.

I get really annoyed when people say my singing sucks. I'm really REALLY easily pissed off about that because I'm a GREAT singer, alright?

I WANT CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM
NO I AM GOOD AT SINGING I ONLY WANT POSITIVE CRITICISM
All right, whatever.

That's the ONLY FUCKING THING I have self-esteem for! My art sucks, why can't you tell me that? You have to DISS MY SINGING??

>post shit on the internet
>amazed when people comment on the shit you posted for people to see
HMMM.
I CAN SING ASSHOLE.
But if you read the description you would find out that:

OH I DON'T OWN A FUCKING MUSIC STUDIO
I USE CHEAP ASS TECHNOLOGY TO RECORD THE SHIT I DO.
MY MICROPHONE IS $6-7. MY CAMERA ISN'T A GREAT BUY EITHER!

IT IS A POOR SHEPHERD WHO BLAMES HIS FLOCK, APOSTLE. THIS FAILURE IS YOURS AND YOURS ALONE.
Holy shit I love Dawn of War.

ALSO, You would've learned I WAS SICK WHEN I WAS DOING THAT.

Although come to think of it, "it is a poor craftsman who blames his tools, apostle" would have probably been a closer fit for this bint but that's not what was said, so oh well.
Now here's a post where she is "so sick of looking at herself" and the easy solution there would be to stop doing that, but THIS IS LIVEJOURNAL LOGIC HAS NO BUSINESS HERE.

I just can't draw. I haven't been able to draw anything remotely good in ages (Have I ever?)

After looking at your Deviantart account: no. No you have not.
Sorry I just completely unfocused my eyes for about 10 minutes. Uhh-- all I see are words, now.

Oh god thanks for giving me a fucking heartattack computer.

I'm fucking pissed.

I got this blue screen of I don't even know
when trying to turn my computer off

Crashes when rebooting SSSSSOUNDS LIKE VISTA

it doesn't turn off it comes back up after doing some system check and it's all "Oh srs error holy shit" ERGH.

Heh, 15 year old girls and technology.

It could've been that mini power-outage that happened during dinner when that one guy was barbecuing rubber..

Power outages don't cause blue screens but okay, whatever.
Blue screens are software related, typically.
Of course bad RAM can cause more blue screens but whatever we're starting to get technical now.

Vent. I'm sick of online school. I get bitched at every time I'm having a mental breakdown. Pushing me to do something when I'm fucking stressed out as it is DOESN'T FUCKING HELP no matter HOW MUCH YOU REPEAT YOURSELF.

SHE'S STRESSED GUYS.

Religion is.. almost a damn cult if you push it too far.

Heard it here first, folks.

[Feel free to ignore I just feel like venting.]

Okay, will do.
All right so I didn't and I have no fucking idea what she's on about. It seems like her mother got teen pregnant and then the grandmother raised her but it's kind of hard to say for certain with her syntax.
Why do people lie? Why do people butthurt so easily?
Indeed, Mrs. "DON'T-CRITICIZE-MY-SINGING-EVER!".

Haha, when I turn 16 this year I can drop out of school because I think school affects my mental health in a bad way. You know? Too much stress. Don't get me started on that.

Uh-huh.

Also, I can focus more on my career this way.

>career
>no high school diploma
Oh look I found you singing.
You're really good at this singing thing, kid.
BA, HA, HA, HA.

AND FINALLY WE HAD THE INMATES TELL US SHIT ABOUT JAIL AND HOW AWFUL IT IS.. THEN WE HAD QUESTIONS "What did you learn?"

Best day of sociology ever.
Wannabe gangsters talk shit to the inmates, inmate says in prison he'd be a bitch, guy looks really downtrodden.
Awesome.
Anyway I have other things to do than stare at this purple abomination and maybe get a headache, so later fags.

Oh here we go

Aspberger's Syndrome is an autism-spectrum disorder. Like all forms of autism, it is something that occurs (seemingly) more often in men than in women, and is marked by several social, cognitive and linguistic difficulties, some or all of which may be present in varying degrees of impairment.
Despite this, many autistic individuals go on to lead incredibly successful and fulfilling lives, and-- HEY WAIT, NO TIME FOR THAT! TIME TO FEEL SORRY FOR OURSELVES!
Self-diagnosis is the worst form of diagnosis because indeed most symptoms are purposefully vague because not everyone is going to fulfill every single symptom to the letter.

I recently read a book by John Elder Robinson, the older brother of memoirist, Augusten Burroughs; which centered on his experiences growing up with Asperger syndrome.

Uh-huh. Here it comes.

Some shared 'symptoms' include issues with social interaction, restrictive (and often very focused) or repetitive interests or behaviors, and speech/language issues.

Oh look, it fits me! I don't interact with people very often, I have a narrow range of interests and I have speech issues in that no one ever seems to understand what the fuck I'm talking about. I MUST HAVE ASSBURGERS!

To put it simply, he thought it was illogical for his mother to feel sorry for a completely stranger. And this seemingly logical stance has caused me to evaluate human emotion and interaction.

It is, to a degree. You can still feel empathy and all that other shit they try to drill into your head in elementary school, though.

When tragedy strikes (for instance, Hurricane Katrina, the Earthquakes in Haiti), we immediately feel sorry and bad - what can we do to help? While I can't say I didn't feel that same way, isn't that a weird experience?

Oh my God it's almost like we're specially adapted towards social conglomeration and are socially-minded creatures. I wonder if there's some sort of force in nature that selects beneficial traits to pass on to future generations and removes hindering traits?
Someone should really research this. I'll even give it a name so we don't have to debate about what to call it: I shall call it evolution.

I don't know anyone that lives in an effect region, so why should I feel sorrow? Aside from raising gas prices and taking time from television to raise money or report on the events, I was unaffected by both events.

If humans did always react like this I suspect we'd be living in a society similar to what the Dark Eldar from Warhammer have setup. You know, very Machiavellian in feel. Survival of the fittest, backstabban, "that was then, this is now"-type mentality. It'd be awesome.
Not that it's bad, mind, because it certainly seems to work for them, but we're BLESSED MANKIND and shit so we have to purge them because it's our destiny or whatever.

If you look into the animal kingdom there is none of this to experience.

Really?
It's like you just make this shit up as you go-- oh wait, that's exactly what's going on here.
Never mind.

But when you step back and look at things, isn't it ridiculous to feel sorrow or remorse over the death or tragedy of life for other people (or hell, even animals/pets*)?

Ah, truly the mentality of a high schooler.
My dog died recently, then my friend told me his dog died. Of course I had felt the pain of losing a pet, so I understood exactly what he was feeling and felt sorry he had to feel that, too.
I think that's the way this emotion thing works.

I've wondered for a while if anyone would be interested in story (short or episodic)...

I'm rereading The Count of Monte Cristo currently, so no thanks. It was episodic and fucking awesome, so I think it has you beaten.

This isn't to beg anyone to send me money, it's more of an incentive for me to write more and get practice with other characters, situations, etc.

Going back to your "empathizing with other people is illogical" mentality, why should I care if you become a better writer?

Anything I'd do would be pretty affordable) - So maybe $10 for a 'short' story, $15 for a 'long' story?

Are you fucking nuts? I spent 8 bucks and got all of The Count of Monte Cristo. All 1350 pages. You are going to have to write-- hold on-- 1620 pages before I'd be willing to pay 10 bucks.
Of that caliber writing, too.

It can involve (most) any content (I'm not opposed to writing on subjects that I don't enjoy, but most of my work has been done in specific 'fetishes'/themes)... Feel free to approach me with an idea and I'll let you know if it's something I'm okay writing about.

Fetishes--
>originally posted on FurAffinity

Anyway, Brick is a crime/detective story set in a modern era with 'high school aged' characters but orchestrated in the manner of a 1940's detective novel/movie (see Dick Tracy).

Scoobie Doo?

I think I've always had this lingering question in my head, do our actions define us more so than are beliefs, ideals, or thought processes? I guess it's always been there because I'm so in my head that what I think and what I do are two stark contrasts - so which is more 'me'? What I think, feel, and believe or what I do with those concepts in application?

Wouldn't both kind of constitute the person? I mean, Hitler, technically, meant well (at least for the German people) but I don't think many outside of Neo-Nazi skinheads are going to be arguing he was a good guy.
... Evil people don't think they're evil, you know.

**Hopes this wasn't a completely abstract/confused jumble**

Whatever, faggot.

I'm really tired of the bullshit that is other people.

Me too. Starting with you.

I understand that some things (like morals, ethics, and general acceptable behavior) are based on personal preference and experience, but seeing as we're all - a derp - human beings, there are some things that everyone can agree on... so when you violate those canons,

Mores, not canons.
For someone who likes to bang on and on about social behavior you sure don't know very much about it.

You make me ashamed to be gay. You make me ashamed to be a man. You make me ashamed to be human.

Nope. You made yourself feel that way, asshole.

I watch him in the kitchen, and I think of how much it hurts to love somebody.

That's funny, because I heard that love "happiness is when you really feel good with somebody,
nothing wrong with being in one with someone"

How deep the hurt is, how almost unbearable. It's not the love that hurts; it's the possibility of anything happening to the object of your love.

Oh baby, love and happiness.

Like, I would not want Dennis to lose his mind. But I'd be much more fearful of me losing my mind, because then he'd be the one left alone.

Wait a minute, let me tell you
the power of love

i cant do this anymore

This is his first post. I guess he could do this anymore.
Err, wait-- whatever.

It's fucking go time

A few days ago a friend of mine suggested (maybe he read it I don't remember) that fanfiction is perhaps the most significant thing my generation has to contribute to writing. We both agreed it was a horrifying thought, but there is some truth to it: no one else was writing fanfiction prior to this generation.
Anyway, today we have an adventure in words.

So last Monday, April 26th, I started the enumerator job.

Sounds like a job the Priests of Terra would have in Warhammer. Just this endless drudgery of paperwork and census taking for institutions that probably no longer exist and responding to inquiries from people long dead.

The training lasted four days, and mostly consisted of learning how to fill out the mounds of forms that are a supplement to any federal job, plus sorting through the piles of confusion.

Holy shit it is the Priesthood of Terra.
All right so already this blog has a big fucking problem with "too much information" so I'm just going to do some pruning of this nonsense to get one concise thought:

The Census is something that people are legally required to do. The IRS will never see the information, nor will US Immigration Services. However, some people are fearful for their privacy. The minimal information I need to get is, well, pretty minimal. Unfortunately, some people do not seem aware of any of the information in the preceding paragraph. I had a person who called me, yelling about privacy violations and the illegality of what I was doing and how this is harassment. She insulted me, left me feeling quite harassed, and I dealt with it by crying in my car for the next 20 minutes and then drowning my misery in Burger King.

Yeah I bet, fatty. I like that, though. You went to her house and yet you feel harassed? I don't think that's how it works, woman. Goddamn though, people. The census is 10 fucking questions and it's all over the TV and the radio about how if you don't fill it out they're going to come find you and bother you until it's done, so you might as fucking well do it and besides if you don't do it you won't get any of your government handouts so it is in your best interest and yet people still don't fucking do it.
There's a term for this (besides madness) and I can't remember what it is.

Anyhow, this is my (entirely too long) writeup about our weekend adventures with Airtran.

Yeah I read all of these words, too. I'm suddenly reminded of Uncle Tom's Cabin, for some reason.
I invented a totally awesome Uncle Tom's Cabin drinking game, speaking of which. It's incredibly simple. There's only two rules. First is you take a drink every time Stowe interrupts the non-action to ask how you, personally, would feel or tells you outright what to feel or think. The second is every time a character is introduced with some detail only to become a background character and/or totally forgotten.
Goooooood writing.

Andrew has finally seen The Wedding Singer, which is one of those movies that I like despite not caring for either of the lead people. I am a sucker for the 80’s.

I think that movie came out in 1998.

There’s also the fact that the only Adam Sandler movies I tend to enjoy are the ones where he doesn’t act like Adam Sandler.

>enjoying
>Adam Sandler movie

We’ve been watching Babylon 5, which I am totally obsessed with. Interesting plots that totally carry over from episode to episode, hooray!

Interesting plots that carry over from episode to episode also known as "continuity" or "a story arc". So now she's about to tell this awesome story about "Meetup.com" and let's see how long it takes her to reach her point. I'm going to start at the beginning of the post and you're going to read it like I would. You get a little peek into what I have to deal with with these shitty blogs.

So back when we first moved to Denver, I signed up for a gazillion different meetups on Meetup.com, as I figured this would be a good way to meet people and such. Not long after that came Meetup Phase #1, which consisted of going to two different hiking meetups. The first one I went to by myself.

Okay.

As an aside here, I should mention that I have horrible socialization issues. I like people well enough, but I have some rather introverted tendencies. The more people I am around, the more social anxiety I have, and the more difficulty I have relaxing and actually being able to talk to them. This can be ameliorated by knowing at least a few people, or by having the people be “my type”. Not that I’m really sure what “my type” consists of, I’ve just found some people are easier to talk to then others. One reason I really liked doing Nanowrimo were the group get-togethers. For the most part, I felt pretty comfortable being a bit social with the other Nanoers.

TOO MUCH FUCKING INFORMATION.

Getting back to the subject at hand, I was really glad that the meetup was hiking – i.e. it’s sometimes hard to keep conversation going when you’re huffing your way up a giant hill. While I enjoyed myself, I didn’t feel like I “clicked” with the people there. (The fact that I am talking about “clicking” with people might just be further evidence of my introversion, as extroverts just click with people by default.) I also got the impression that the people there were a bit more into hiking that I was – I’m pretty clueless when it comes to equipment, beyond “bring a flashlight and a jacket if it gets cold” type of stuff.

OH MY GOD STOP IT. Holy fuck I give up. It just goes on and on and on about nothing. What the fuck?

Incidentally, I have a fabulous idea for completely revamping the public education system. I think it's kinda detrimental for kids to spend a majority of their time around kids of the same age. A variety of ages would provide more opportunities for modeling, as well as help with behavior.

Wow what an original idea.

So this is the part where I say goodbye forever to my 20s.

YOU'RE 30? No fucking way. Do not believe it.

And on a final note, Nanowrimo is going more or less ok. Am at 13126 words right now, need to get to 15,000 by tomorrow night.

If anyone has no problems filling a word count, I'm guessing it's you. This brings me to another good point: what a bunch of shit national write month or whatever the fuck it's called is. "WRITE 50,000 WORDS IN A MONTH, QUALITY BE DAMNED!" This is now how you write books, people. It's how Stephen King might work, but it is not how good writers work. Now she gives me "sexual assault prevention tips" which I think the ultimate sexual assault prevention is this.

Holy fuck this just goes on and on forever about nothing. This is not worth the effort anymore, good grief. Happy Friday, fags.

Cinco de Whatever

It's amazing to me the number of Americans genuinely excited about their recent excuse to drink: Cinco de Mayo. As a little experiment, I asked anyone who mentioned their excitement for this holiday what the holiday actually meant, and not a single person could answer. Only one person could even confirm it involved Mexico.
Oh well, any excuse to get hammered on cheap margaritas, I guess.
Americans celebrating an unlikely Mexican victory over the French.
Is victory against the French unlikely, or inevitable?

A fair wind blew on that day. It was chilly, but the breeze that rushed across my face was warm, comforting and carried the unmistakable sweet scent of spring rain.

It was chilly but the breeze was warm but it's spring-- whatever.

I stood with my hands buried in the pockets of my tweed blazer. Why I chose to wear this ridiculous thing is beyond me, after all, it's not like you would care.

Hey good point. I wouldn't care.
Effective storytelling at its finest.

If I recall correctly, you even told me once that you liked me for not putting on airs and feeling obligated to dress myself up.

You, not putting on airs?
Well you could knock me over with a feather.

Voices are passing by me now, but I don't see their sources, only dark lumps of upright shapes seeming to float past me like drift wood on the sea.

I feel like there's an obvious song reference I'm missing here--

I stare blankly at the cherry wood chair in front of me, noting all of the swirls and knots in its form.

Wait, shut up. Something is coming to me.
Nope, it passed.

I stand to join the line forming in the isle.
Yet some how, my mind isn't paying any attention at all.

Aisle? Perhaps she does mean isle, this is all so opaque and metaphysical who even knows where she is or what the fuck is happening?

I see your pale skin instead, remembering the way the sheets would drape over your bare waist and hip. The gray-blue color of the linen played a beautiful part in accenting your complexion.

Oh fuck me, waiting for something to happen. It's like I'm really reading something for school!
WORDS WORDS WORDS

But I struggled with the fact that if I chose to see you, my last memory of your slender features would be a lifeless one.

Like dust in the wind, dude.
Deep.
Time for a quick writing lesson:
the three most important things for a story are context, characters and plot.
Context, meaning the setting and all that background shit, is especially important for setting up the other bits because one context can and will change the tone in relation to the other things.
Take, for example, my previous mention of Cinco de Mayo: if you're Mexican it's a great celebratory day of heroes and shit, but if you're French it's probably more along the lines of "those damn rebels". The entire context of your story shifts simply by picking France or Mexico.
This story has no context, and therefore I immediately don't give a shit because I feel lost and don't really care to catch up because you also don't have any compelling characters so their struggle is totally irrelevant and obnoxious to me.
Finally you have no plot, because indeed nothing happens in the first, what, 200 or so words?
Your first goal in opening a story is to make me give a shit. Let's compare your opening with some of the most successful openings in history:

Midway in the journey of our life I came to myself in a dark wood, for the straight way was lost.

Immediately you want to know what he's talking about, so you keep reading. Why was the straight way lost? Why did he find himself suddenly in a dark wood? These are details you want to know, and notice he uses almost no description at all to paint this image.
What do you know about the woods? Nothing, besides it's dark, and yet you know exactly what he means. Go easy with description, it weighs your shit down. Here's another good one:

Today my mother died.

What, why? And one more, to ram my point home:

These are the times that try men's souls.

Now let's compare that with yours:

A fair wind blew on that day.

Oh. So?
Anyway, moving on from bad writing.
Well, I guess I'm still reading this blog so that's a given, but moving on from this bad post.

Why is everyone always fucked up, but never fucked down?

Hurrrrrrr

Never throw a rock down a well. You never know when something is going to throw it back at you from the other side.

... That doesn't even make sense.

Things seem to keep slipping through my fingers lately. Maybe I'm just being dramatic, or maybe I'm going through a downer cycle. Whatever the reason, I feel redundant and hollow

Well-- wow I just noticed you have some bizarre bold font on this. "I" in "I'm" and "am"-- oh I see. You're a fucking derp. If you are to read just the bold part, it spells out "I am redundant and hollow". Wow, real secretive.

Even though I have my guardian, I am still very far from being saved. I've come to realize that the only one who can save me, is myself. The only trouble is, the hero in me, only wants to save other people. So, I guess even the warrior is lazy too. Damn.

Anyone know what the shit is going on? I see the "secret" code continues but frankly who gives a shit--
Oh wait, I know. I have a secret code for you, and make sure to only read the bold part, now: you're a cunt.

I've come to notice that no matter how trusting people are in each other, there are always suspicions. The cold clawing of mistrust is never far behind in relationships.

A suspicious mind is a healthy mind.
But still, one might wonder what prompted such a philosophical train of thought, and the simple answer is there is no reason. We're in for the long haul with this blog, people.

I left Texas on the 5th of September,

TEXAS.
Suddenly everything makes sense.

Good cannot defeat bad.
Bad cannot defeat good.
In a world where there is neither good nor bad,
there can be no victor but the nothingness that is us.

... What?
If good and bad don't exist, how can good and bad fight?
You're stupid. This is stupid.

I didn't really like you all that much to begin with.

Then the feeling is mutual.

When I met you, I thought you were cool, you shared my love for the mystics.
But the problem was that I learned you actually live and breathe in that world.

Anyone? Anyone know what's going on?

Now you say that you like me? How can you like me if all we talk about is ghouls?

Uhhhhh, trick question?

You seem like you try so hard to fit into that world. Werewolves, Vampires, Ghosts, Spirits, Devils, Shadows. You try too hard, you're stories sound like some hokey fifty dollar movie production, or a lame campfire spook story.

You are stories sound like some hokey fifty dollar movie production.
Brilliant.

This is odd, I finally have a place to write my thoughts down, but now I have nothing to write!!
Maybe if I just start writing about random stuff, more interesting things will pop into my head to jot down. I hope so!!

In fact! I think I just figured something out to write about!

And there the post ends. I guess whatever interesting thing she found to write is a secret to us. All boring, all the time! It's Banefulvexation's blog (Jesus Christ).

I loved this person very much, I never met this person, only talked to this person. But in that I learned so much, because you see, that's all that we could do, it was never a 'lust' or physical thing.

Commas.

They were more than just my love you see, and even if they didn't love me like they said, I wouldn't care because they were still my best friend, they don't have to love me for me to love them, and that was enough for me. Lol

Whatever.

Would I find their name in the obituaries one day and cry knowing that I would never be able to meet this person, and that I wasn't able to be there for them if they had wanted to see me before they died? Its dreadfully morbid I know.. Plus I'm babbling and not making any sense..

No! You, not making any sense? I don't believe it!

So at this point I shall shut up.

Goodnight.

Poor display overall, I must say. And this is her very first entry too, awww. All the way from stardate 2007. Well I will give her one thing, at least she doesn't update her blog constantly. She waits until she really has something to say (har har) and focuses on one meaningful, entertaining post at a time.