Those who rely on protection grow complacent

I was just reminiscing a few days ago that I vaguely missed anorexia blogs.
Then I found one and I remembered why they are banned.
But you know what never gets boring or tedious?
TRANSSEXUALS.
Oh wait, did I say "never gets boring or tedious"? Because I meant "always was boring and tedious."
Man. I'm having a lot of trouble paying attention today because I've been playing SPACE MARINE and if I'm so desensitized to everything now if I don't see a graphic decapitation on screen every ten seconds I fall into a mild state of catatonia.

If you could travel back in time, what would you tell your 10-year-old self?

PUUUUURGE THE XEEEEEEEEEEEEENOS is what I'd tell my 10 year old self.
NO HOPE IN DEFIANCE.

Tell mom and dad how you really feel about being a boy. Because you're not. You're beautiful inside and out and you shouldn't let anyone tell you differently.

You know what's fun? Matchmaking on the PS-Triple.
FIVE MINUTES TO FIND A GAME HELL YEAH MOTHERFUCKER.

You will find friends, love, and your family will love you unconditionally.

The game does have a criminal lack of Brian Dobson, though. He is the voice of Space Marines and they didn't even bother hiring him. Is there an excuse for this? None that I can think of.

Don't let the depression take you. Don't try to take yourself away from the world. You have so much to offer the world if you can just accept yourself and reveal that self to others.

Oh right, you.

I've pretty much hit a breaking point with the superfluous advertising all over LJ. In addition, the interface has become increasingly convoluted, pushing information I actually *care* about out of the way to make more room for the so-called sponsors, spotlighted communities, etc.

>Ads
>Livejournal
how does it feel living in 2005?
Oh right, I thought of another petty complaint for an otherwise great game: they give you the storm bolter at like the least opportune time imaginable. A GUN THAT'S WILDLY INACCURATE? THIS WILL BE PERFECT FOR THE SCENE WHERE ACCURACY IS KEY!

If anyone actually *cares* what I blog about, I've reactivated my blog on blogger.

http://moodyasakat.blogspot.com/

... Awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
This won't be confusing to navigate.
Also this isn't the latest entry on this blog so apparently this person is full of shit.

Beauty and the Beast of Disparate Gender Appearance Expectations

First entry in this other (new?) blog.
Can't wait!
Actually now that I'm thinking about it, of all the guns in Space Marine about 60% of them are complete shit. That Meltagun is fucking pathetic. For a gun that fires so hot it melts through bulkheads and tanks it sure doesn't hit unarmored infantry very hard.
In fact I've spent a majority of the game just playing whack-a-mole with enemy heads using the thunder hammer.
FUCK RANGED COMBAT. I WILL MEET THE ENEMY IN GLORIOUS HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT~

Yesterday, I shaved my legs for the first time in about two and a half weeks. I even curled my hair and put on make-up. This is not a normal routine for me because, frankly, it's a huge hassle and can be, at times, painful.

Speaking of glorious hand-to-hand combat, shaving your legs.
You did want to be a girl, incidentally. Not an easy road to travel in terms of personal hygiene.

But the whole thing got me thinking. Society has a ridiculously imbalanced set of perceived responsibilities in personal appearance and hygiene among the commonly-perceived gender binary.

So don't shave your legs. You are a dude, after all.
So here's the Riddle of the Sphinx: isn't biologically a girl, doesn't act like a girl, doesn't look like a girl.
Female?

I've often wondered why in virtually ever other species of animal, the male is the one that is more colorful, more primped, and has to dance or sing beautifully or find some way of earning a female's CONSENT to engage in 'relations'.

Argument null: traditional society typically dictates the male woo the female in humans as well. We just do it with dinner instead of singing.
Unless you're Dean Martin, of course.
He has to go out of his way and have all these traits like being funny or mysterious or whatever gets a girl's sex hole going and she has to look attractive. Both parties have to work for it. As Warhammer tells us, "hard work keeps the mind distracted and the body pure. It is a noble and worthwhile thing."
In this case you're working hard to attract a mate I suppose. I don't know.
My goal is to not stop talking about Warhammer this entry.

The female of these species is typically more plain in appearance and does her own thing without all the pressure of pleasing the male.

And girls, they're completely easy to please.
You know, you did want to be a girl. You weren't biologically built this way so you can go back at any fucking time being a chick becomes too much trouble for you.

Let's take a look at what's expected of a woman here in America: skinny; hairless body; long legs; large breasts; full lips; a full and round ass; clothing accentuating her legs, ass, and breasts; slender, waspish waist; flawless skin; high heels; long, painted nails; manicured eyebrows; long, shiny hair; and no wrinkles, cellulite, or gray hair.

I can break that down into one thing: look sexy.
I mean, if we're going to play this game (which is a complete fucking waste of time and a logical fallacy of the highest magnitude to boot) then what do men have to do to attract girls? They have to be intelligent, funny, interesting, outgoing, assertive, have disposable income to spend on the girl, flattering and on top of that they have to be 100% aware of her ever-changing whims and moods, and because we're playing by the "all men want a girl with huge tits" rule set then all women want a man with a huge penis so if you don't have that you might as well not even bother. Oh and he, additionally, has to dress well. Like women.
Or, you know, it's all fucking bullshit in the first place and if you're trying to attract a woman whose only desire is a giant penis that ejaculates money then you're clearly an idiot for wanting to attract such a shell of a human in the first place.
You wouldn't believe the level of whining from both parties on what they have to do to attract mates. You think you people would either simplify your rules or man the fuck up and deal with it.

To that end, women are expected to shave, pluck, tweeze, thread, wax, laser, and zap hair all over their bodies. They apply balms, creams, salves, lotions, tonics, and oils to their skin. They suffer pinched toes, aching ankles, throbbing knees, and sore hips.

So don't wear high heels.
IF-- IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING, DON'T DO IT.
AM I A FUCKING GENIUS? WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR PEOPLE?

They deal with a ritual of applying powders, liquids, animal fats and synthetic chemicals to their faces. Women are expected to do yoga, aerobics, strength training and diet like crazy. Then, of course, is the cinching, binding, strapping, lifting, and twisting of the clothing. And the hair - where mileage tends to vary quite a bit.

Ritual is important. It keeps the mind from wandering into dark places.

What does American society expect of men? Please try to not smell too bad and wear clothes that adequately cover your body. I exaggerate, of course. The ideal man is supposed to be some bronzed Adonis with chiseled muscles, washboard abs, sparkling smile, and the care-free look of styled bed-head. Facial hair varies by preference.

I am so filled with impotent rage right now because I haven't smashed an Ork head with a giant mallet in about two hours I'm ready to kill.

The point is, this type of man is considered "unrealistic" and women are far more forgiving of lapses in personal appearance in favor of a good personality, intelligence, and a sense of humor.

You think that shit comes naturally?
You lived a fair deal of your life as a man and you have no sense of humor at all. It takes a lot of cultivation and practice and study to be funny.
I mean some people (like myself) of course are blessed with boundless gifts for comedy but even I, with the Blessing of Dionysus upon my brow, has to work for it.

Women that don't fall within this narrow scope of the patriarchal notion of femininity are criticized and humiliated, their likenesses posted for all the world to see on tabloids and websites.

"Any more than a handful is a waste" a wise man once said.
How big is that, B cup?

I would like to see men take on the task of beautifying themselves as women do, just for a week. One week of shaving legs and armpits, of fretting about their weight, of picking out "outfits" to get female attention, of applying concealer and foundation to smooth out their complexion, of wearing figure-modifying garments to tuck their bulging tummies and keep their thighs from rubbing against each other.

Have you seen the faggots on TV mincing around? Too late for that, I think.

Perhaps I'm rambling too much in my thoughts on this matter, but as a transgender woman who has lived on both sides of these expectations, this disparity is made all the clearer. I would like to see some changes. I, for one, have never insisted that women modify their appearance to suit my whim.

HOW IS THIS STILL GOING ON? AM I DYING?
Here's a fucking idea: if it bothers you so goddamn much don't do it. Just don't expect men to want to date a hairy, smelly ape with a dick.
I don't see the fucking mystery here. If you want something from society at some point you conform to society's ideals.

It would seem that I am not equipped to handle 3 six-hour studio classes (and one inconsequential lecture class) in a single semester. It's a constant cycle of putting off one thing for another until I hit a point where I can't quite catch up on anything at all.

You just gotta grab that shit by the head and stomp on it. Pretend like all your problems are Orks.
I'm back to the other blog, incidentally. Having fun jumping around?
Because I'm not.

Some might argue, "Hey! I work XX hours per week and do such and such in my 'off' time." That might be true, but I'm not you. We have different endurances, different levels of focus, and different needs in terms of rest, sustenance, and social interaction. I'm also just really tired of school. I want to *work*. I want to be productive. I want to feel like I'm contributing to something. Instead, I sit in rooms with children ten years my junior who speak grandly of their naïve ideals and sheltered opinions as though they are incontestably-proven fact.

Wow that's not pretentious. I bet we'd get along well in a pussy sensitivity situation.

Headphones haven't helped as much as I hoped they would. And I am so, so, so exhausted. I don't remember my last full-night's rest. I wake up multiple times per night, my heart races with anxiety, I lay awake in the dark and cry.

I have cried more in the past month than I did the entire second-half of last year.

>I have male hormones in my body
>to offset them I am taking female hormones in a greater dosage than would otherwise be normally present in a female body so I can look more feminine
WHY AM I MOODY?
ALSO FUCK SOCIETY AND ITS EXPECTATION THAT WOMEN APPLY CHEMICALS TO THEIR SKIN.
No I'm intentionally being unfair. I don't know that this person is doing hormone therapy.
That would be a tad hypocritical of you if you were, though. You know, it's okay when society makes chemicals that you want but otherwise it's unnatural and degrading.
So at some point sheeeeee (whatever) alludes to a webcomic called "Trangst" she is working on. I've done my best to hunt this comic down and I found (a) webcomic called "Trangst" but I'm almost certain this isn't the one this person is working on.
Apparently there's an even older and different Livejournal, too. This person has their business spread across at least five websites that I know of and I can only find two.
Ah, spoke too soon. I found this.
And this.
And this that links to about 5 different things including the previously linked Blogger.
Is "Male-to-female transgender" just a complex code for "I have too many fucking websites" and no one told me?
Now there's an article about Nancy Wake.
If you don't know who she is she was a British agent during WWII who strangled a thousand Nazis with her bare hands.
Fuck yeah.
Truly someone who knows the meaning of glorious hand-to-hand combat.
And then this pussy goes on to say how this is proof gender doesn't matter and I'll tell you what, when you strangle a thousand Nazis with your bare hands I'll put up with your whining.
If you strangle a thousand Nazis will you be a whiner?
I'd wager no you wouldn't.
This latest blog seems to be the lodestone in terms of entries.
Time for a two parter?
WE'LL SEE HOW I FEEL FRIDAY.

FLATTERING CAMERA ANGLES

Ever notice when people paste their own picture all over their blog it's always black and white shots at an obtuse (usually high angle)? Hides the fact you're fat and ugly far better than conventional shooting.
Also most of these shots are self-taken to hide the fact whatever spawn owns the blog is crushingly alone.
Anyway, Journal of Fbrobey.
First, today's writer's block:

If you worked for a newspaper, which section of the paper would you like to write for, and why?

Definitely advice. Although 90% of my advice would be "fucking kill yourself."
Hope my paper has a killer insurance policy~

Geeky as this sounds I've been thinking a lot lately about trying to incorporate my enjoyment and love of writing with my interest in science, so I'd love to be a scientific correspondent reviewing journals and commenting on new discoveries...

Wouldn't you need some sort of qualifications to do that?
No I guess not, actually.

I'm home for Easter and by God is the break a welcome one. I say break, but I still have university work coming out of my ears, I'm just not currently having anything added to the pile meaning I actually feel like I'm accomplishing something unlike before.

Whatever.

I have actually completed my epic coursework list apart from the one piece of biochemistry coursework, which doesn't bear thinking about for now.

I SAID WHATEVER. SHUT UP.

So yesterday I was too drained to really explain what had happened, and I'll spare you all the details, basically though I text Jayne Wednesday night because I wanted her to know it wasn't her I had a problem with but didn't feel comfortable walking down with Milly.

Yes spare me the details because if you give me the details I might actually comprehend what's going on for once. It's not like the two sentences of exposition would make this essay in bullshit any shorter.

This turned into her telling me she didn't think me living there next year was a great idea either and I'm just sick of it. I ended up crying myself to sleep much later than I planned and had to be up early the next morning (yesterday). Miraculously I managed to get my arse out of bed in time, and stood outside with Gen and Amy while I waited for Aimee to appear. She didn't Milly and Jayne did and they both walked past me with looks on their faces as if I was a piece of unpleasant shit on their shoes.

Milly and Jayne with a y. What do they know?
Seriously what the fuck is going on?

Had a pretty awful day I have to admit, again following on with the "Milly" theme. Currently can't be assed to make an explaining post so shall leave that to tomorrow when I'll be posting anyway as in precisely 12 hours 10 minutes I will have in my sweaty little mitts the result of January's 5 exams... wish me luck! :/

Oh here's the anticipatory post in relation to the drivel I just copied.
So we have an introduction to the post that doesn't actually explain anything.

So last night I came to the conclusion I really can't bear the idea of four new freshers, especially as next year is my last and most important year, I'll have a dissertation to do as well as lectures and will need all the ease and peace and quiet I need. I thought Milly can't tell me what to do so I'm just going to move in, Jayne and Aimee want me there anyway. So I sent her this message:

Oh good, some exposition on this issue.
Want to bet it will explain precisely dick?

"Hiya milly, I'm sorry to bring this up again, I know you don't really want to live with me next year and trust me I've been trying to find new people to share with me next year to respect your wish. However, everyone already has plans and Aimee doesn't want to leave your flat, which I completely understandm however this left me with the rather awful prospect of living with 4 new freshers next year, I hope you can appreciate this isn't something I really want as I want to spend my last year with friends and I need peace and quiet with a dissertation to write. I'm sorry if this is going to upset you but I'm moving into the double room next year, I want to make the most of my degree, which I'm sure you know. You have my word it'll be like living with a ghost if you want, I can stay in my room to avoid tension, after all I don't want to cause trouble. Hope you understand and I'm sorry if this upsets you, I did try the alternative first xx"

So apparently she did something (or maybe not) and now her roommates are pissed so they want her to move out but she'd be living with freshmen so she doesn't really want to do that--
got it.
What'd she do, I wonder?

"You won't live with new house mates this year yet you made us live with new house mates last year... hmm yes fair... you have brought this situation on yourself and as they say make your bed and lie in it. To be honest I'm really not happy and frankly don't give a stuff where you live as long as it's not with me. You say you will be a ghost in this flat so why the hell not where you are currently if you are going to stay in your room it should make little difference to you. You say you want to live with your friends, yet to be honest only one of us in this flat even count you as one since xmas before last."

Burn I guess.
This all reeks of melodrama that's exciting for exactly three seconds and then I get bored and start to stare into the middle distance.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there is no more exposition on this subject. Nothing ever says "here's what I did to make everyone hate me" which leads me to believe whatever it was is probably her fault.

Okay well I never really left my diet, though it's certainly not doing the good it was earlier this year so time for a kick start as I said a couple of days ago. My exercise class at home is run by a wonderful lady known as Pat, who is so helpful and supportive. I have a dress in my sights and I really want to look good in it and my sister is in the same conundrum. I'm currently UK dress size 16 and 12 stone 8 lbs (as of the wii fit this morning). By July next year I'm hoping to be down to a UK 12 (at a push but I'd love to do it) and as close to 10 stone as I can get.

Bri'ish.

So Pat suggested a diet known as the Dukan Diet it's a 4 phase diet developed by a French nutritionist. Take a look if you like but the four phases are essentially as follows:

1st phase: Attack phase - eating proteins only (lean meat, eggs, water, fat free dairy and tea/coffee and fat free fizzy drinks) this lasts for a week maximum

2nd phase: Vegetables are added (except for starchy ones such as beans, peas, sweetcorn and potatoes)

3rd phase: once target weight/size is achieved normal food is slowly added (e.g. bread potatoes etc) 2 days for every 1lb lost

4th phase: final stabilization, 1 pure protein day a week and a portion of oats everyday to keep cholesterol low.

In addition to this I have to do 30 minutes walking each day, which I'd happily do since it helps to destress me at uni. I also plan to try and keep up jogging (instead of walking some of the days) and also swimming once a week.

I have a revolutionary diet: take whatever you do eat and just eat half of it.

Why is it whenever something wrong is done to me it's my fault anyway?

Your fault for not predicting it and preventing it.
Takes two people to make a butthurt, you know.
Here's a post entitled "I'm 60% a virgin" and I'm having trouble with not only this statement but the math as well.
I'm sure it'll be disappointing but let's take a peek.

Stolen from Diane. Add up how many are unchecked and that’s your virginity percentage.

Oh it's a dumb meme thing.
Fuck it I am even more disappointed than I expected.
Here's an online quiz that confirms she's an attention whore (thanks internet, next thing I know you'll suggest you have to licking a stamp makes it sticky so you can stick it to shit)--
about 100000 memes--
Words I'm not reading--
Oh man this so bad I'm going to have to bust out a word I've never even used before and had to make sure actually existed before I wrote it.
This is really stultifying.
I've never been so enthusiastic to write an update only to have all the will sapped from me. I don't think you could have stripped my zeal for life out faster if you tazed me right in the coconut.

It's funny how a single thought can strike you and turn your perspective of that particular day completely. Manipulate a good day into a bad day, taint your heart with a melancholy undertone.

It really is.
What?

I didn't think my birthday would ever be the trigger for such a mood, yet here I sit, typing out yet another miserable journal entry because I don't seem to know how to do anything but whine about my life lately.

LIVEJOURNAL EXPLORES NEW GROUND.

I have my health, my mind and my whole future to look forward to.

To Zeus, All-Father:
I have found the perfect target for your shenanigans.
Love,
Tim.

So what's got me bluer than Saturn this time? In 15 days I will be celebrating my 20th birthday, which while exciting put things into a wild perspective for me.

Ah yes the big 20th birthday.
Yes.

I'll be halfway to 40, a third of the way to 60 and a quarter of the way to 80, by which time I'll probably be the lonely old lady pictured above, gazing out at the spattering rain wondering where my life went, how my glasses got so thick, my memory got so bad and my jowls so saggy.

The entire sum of your life adds up to one quarter of 80 years. Every single moment has added up to not even a quarter of a century.
Seriously how long do you want to live?
Imagine if life stretched on into infinity-- what would be the point in doing anything? The fact you have limited time to do shit is kind of your motivator.

Musing over big matters like who whatever little money I may have collected over the years will go to. Will I have a husband? Kids? Grandkids? If the past 20 years is anything to go by I'm supposing no.

Well to be fair you could really only have gotten married in the past two years.

Maybe I'll even think back to this moment and wonder what on Earth I ever had to whine about in comparison to the pains of crumbling bones, the frustration of stairs and the pang of loneliness when I realise it's my 80th birthday and not a single card has dropped on my doormat to tell me this, because no one remembers the bubbly young woman I once was.

Now that is sobering.
I actually had a similar thought while I was teaching at my shitty high school. "What if I look back on this and think it's nothing?"
So I've now vowed to make that the darkest chapter in my life.
So instead of whining like you I did the manly, Space Marine thing and took a vow.

Only the frail old lady with the mottled hands and mop of white curls occasionally seen wandering with her shopping trolley to Tesco every Wednesday just for a bit of company and a loaf of bread.

In fact I one day aspire to be old enough to use that as the excuse for how crotchety I am.

Maybe that little girl didn't realise that you should be careful what you wish for. That the promise she made to herself was a foolish one, that 15 years on she'd be sat typing this and regretting every carefree syllable of nonsense she would let escape her mouth without any comprehension of how hideous being old and alone must be.

YOU'RE 20.

She didn't really comprehend what being a spinster entailed. Did she realise the flow of hormones that came with puberty would change her perspective? How could she foresee the anguish of being a teenager watching her friends grow up, caged in an aging body, forced to face facts, scared and helpless.

I think there's a Warhammer quote for this.
I know that always cheers me up immensely.
Let's see. Theme: doubt, fear or perseverance?
We have:
Perseverance and silence are the highest virtues.
Fear is the Mind Killer.
The Mighty have no room for doubt.

The sparkling intuition that children have that makes them think nothing bad will ever happen to them as long as mummy and daddy are around being torn away in a messy operation that left many scars only seen from the inside.

I can't remember the moment they became separate. It happened in a whirlwind of spots, flab, taunting and embarrassment. Braces and glasses, disgust for my curls, attempting to eradicate them with brushing and gel.

Or how about this one?
The present changes the past from moment to moment. Only pray for the future to vindicate your action.

The awkward nerd trying to fit in with her peers, praying personality really does count for more than a pretty face and slim frame.

Only the insane prosper.

The realisation that it didn't, that my prettier friends were receiving valentines day cards and being asked on dates. The confusion when girls I would deem worse looking than myself also seemed to understand the art or dating. Now I have to dig deep to find the skipping carefree girl, peel through the layers of inner pensioner that seem to line my body, the part of me that worries, the cleaner, the tea-drinker to find the scared little girl shivering and blinking through tear filled blue eyes.

Cease purpose and die.
There is not a problem in your life that cannot be solved by a 5-15 word sentence from a Warhammer rulebook.
Anyway this entry has gone on long enough and suddenly I feel like doing something else that isn't a bunch of dumb melodramatic bullshit.

OH NO LOOK AT ALL THE PENISES FLYING INTO YOUR MOUTH

Are you guys prepared for a lesson in boredom?
I know I am!

Norma Jeane Mortenson will always be remembered by her screen name, Marilyn Monroe. What stage name would you choose if you were an entertainer, and why?

I'm a big fan of Fist Rockgroin, actually.

Cadie Roberts. Cadie (pronounced Katie) because it is what my mom calls me and I love it. Roberts because Robert was my dad's name.

Cadie Roberts. Cadie pronounced K-T.
Good.
I don't even know what to say to this beyond "Cadie gives me douche shivers".

I'm getting really burned out at work. I've had overtime the last two weeks and two days last week we were so busy I never got to take a lunch. There is just so much that needs done and not enough time to do it in. I hate being bored so I really am not complaining about having things to do I am just tired. Especially since everyone other weekend I have to work on Saturday so I am not even getting days off to rest my poor brain.

You really think I care.
It's kind of cute, really. Writing all of these words and I couldn't give three shits.

Thankfully, I had all three days of this long weekend off from work. Don't worry, I still had plenty to do.

PLENTY TO DO BEING CHEEKY.

Amber picked me up from work Friday night, I helped her get the girls ready for their tee ball game, grabbed a quick dinner at Subway with Moriah and then went to the game. They were adorable and hilarious just like last time. After the game the whole family went out for ice cream. I didn't get any but I did sample what everyone else got. I stayed at my mom's house because I needed to be close to my cousin's house. Troy and I were riding with them to their nephews birthday party in the morning.

Oh what's this?
As a side note: the (one) review for this product is awesome in its own right. A JOURNAL HELPS YOU ORGANIZE YOUR EMOTIONS!
NOOOOOO.

We left about nine and didn't get home until after seven.

Err--
A common problem when traveling through the Warp, I find, is that you arrive before you depart, and wildly off course to boot.
Oh God, I'm skipping this because if I don't I will die of old age before this entry ever ends.
What follows is about 900 pictures of her little girls I feel creepy even clicking on. Why would you post these?

I had trouble falling alseep last night so it was after 1:00 when I finally drifted off. I woke up around 1:30 feeling like there was a hairball in my mouth.

That happened to me once when I got new flannel sheets.
I pulled a clot of flannel the size of my fist out of my sinus that day.

I stuck my fingers in my mouth to try to get rid of this stupid hair so I can go back to sleep but when I looked at my hand it turned out I was holding a huge, stringy blood clot and not hair at all.

Fucking rad.

So I run to the bathroom and try to rinse my mouth out thinking this is going to stop in a few minutes.
Two and a half hours and a ridiculous amount of bloody compresses later, I drove my self to the ER.

Oh you're fine. Just blow your nose.

Of course, by the time I got there I had finally managed to get it under control myself and it was almost done but there was no way to know how much longer blood was going to continue gushing out of my face so I figured it was time to get some help.

>Under control
>no way to tell how much blood was going to continue gushing out of my face
>under control
>no way to staunch the flow of blood
Maybe I'm not much of a medical mind but what?

The doctor I had was an idiot. Like seriously. I am glad there was nothing more serious wrong with me because I don't think he could have handled it. Anyway, he stuffed the hole full of surgical packing and sends me on my way.

The hole in your face you call a nose?
Or your twat?
How does blood from your vagina end up in your throat?
... Maybe I don't want to know the answer to that, upon further inspection.
I like to imagine that's how Maxi-Pads were invented, incidentally:
HEY MAX, I JUST SHOVED THE HOLE FULL OF COTTON AND IT KIND OF FIXED ITSELF.
MARKET IT, WHY DON'T YOU?
And lo.

I was in and out in about 20 minutes. The packing, which was supposed to stay in the hole until it disolved fell out of my mouth by the time I reached my driveway (no more than 10 minutes from the hospital). That was a nice waste of my $125 copay.

Break down the acronym for me:
ER
EMERGENCY Room
You were not experiencing an EMERGENCY and so therefore you didn't belong there.

So I went to Walmart to buy more gauze in case the bleeding decided it was going to start again. By that point it was only a trickle and not the flood it has been but I was not trusting my body to cooperate. Walmart took so much longer than it should have at 4:30 on a Sunday morning and by the time I got back to the house, changed back into my PJs and was relaxed enough to go to sleep it was 5:30. I woke up at 7:00.

This is a great story.

I have been fighting back completely unnecessary tears ever since I woke up to the bloody waterfall in my mouth last night.
It really freaked me out because it was so out of the blue. I have not had any bleeding since a few hours after I had the tooth taken out on Thursday.

Oh I--
Wait, you were surprised having part of your jaw removed caused bleeding?
Serious?
What is it with you people and wisdom teeth stories?
Maybe my surgeon was a miracle worker but I came out from the drugs, passed out like twice, vomited and I was over it.

And it just seemed to last forever and there was no one I could confer with about the amount of blood. Was it really all that much or did it just seem like a deluge based on my lack of sleep and the fact that it was all coming from my mouth?

What's that other liquid frequently found in your mouth (besides sperm in your case, I mean)?
Eh, answer will come to me eventually.

I could have tired to wake up Aunt Carol or Uncle Gordie (since I was at their house) but I didn't want to bother them.

Oh right: saliva.
Saliva.
Can't imagine blood mixing with that, no.
Also I have pulled clots the size of my fist out of my nose before (weirdest feeling ever as it comes out) so I'd be really interested in hearing how large her clot was.
Here's a post entitled "More on Wisdom Teeth" so I am now left with the perplexing reality that the entry I just read was part 3 of this saga.
You know when some people write sagas they document the rise and fall of the Roman Empire or the life and death of Hrothgar Frostaxe or some shit.
This woman writes about her oral surgery.

I took the entire day off of work to go to this appointment. I suppose I should have gone to work in the morning for a few hours but my face hurt and I didn't sleep that well 'cause, ya know, my face hurt.

I seem to recall mention of spawn.
How are they doing raising themselves?

So we drive most of an hour to get to the oral surgeon who agreed to squeeze me in today. We sit in the waiting room for 20 minutes. I spend five minutes in the office with him, get a prescription for antibiotics because he is concerned about an infection, get a perscription for pain killers because he thinks I need them (even though I told him I did not want and would not use them) and get an appointment to come back and get the tooth removed. On June 20th!!!

:V

How am I the only person who is concerned about the risks of leaving this sawed open tooth in my mouth for a month and a half?!

Oh you'll get over it. Blow your nose.

Not to mention that I really can't eat because I can't open my jaw wide enough to fit much in. I've been eating noodles and baby food and not much of that.

Well. Let me tell you about my troubles now.
They stopped making my paint thinner, this new Games Workshop bottle is shit, their ink range is still a bunch of fuck, I can't properly switch to Valejo because I'm trapped in fucking North Carolina and their response to Valejo is either "GW is the same" or "well we have P3" which no, it isn't the same.
Did I mention they stopped making Terracotta like 5 years ago?
Oh here we go, the thrilling first part to this saga.

When I went to have my teeth cleaned a few months ago it was decided that I need to have my wisdom teeth taken out. I made appointments to get them out in the dentist's office two at a time.

I selected the "all at once" model myself because I'M HARDCORE.
Oh, who gives a shit, I mean seriously?
Goddamn.
Anyway I have some Warhams to paint and shit so I think I'm going to go do that.
The Emperor's Finest definitely don't build themselves.

A WASTE OF MANKIND'S POTENTIAL

So against all better judgment I downloaded that new DoW2 expansion called RETRIBUTION (gotta write it in all caps because that's how it appears on the title screen) and it's actually not that bad.
Way better than Chaos fucking Rising, anyway.
They ditched that hamslapping queer bait Thaddeus and added Martellus the techmarine as a character you control and so automatically it's up a few points.
Also I was amused to see another woman character in the cast (Warhammer doesn't get many of those) and like all women in Dawn of War she's instantly a shrieking harpy telling me to do something I don't want to do.
LIKE ALL WOMEN AM I RIGHT?
But unlike in other video games and in real life I can't just ignore her and do what I want anyway because she has a pistol that shoots fire.
I guess I could wait until her back is turned and cut her in half with a fucking chainsword but I'm guessing that won't solve the problem of proving I'm not a heretic.
Oh right, blogs.
So here's today's writer's block:

What is the craziest dare you have ever taken?

I take no dares for I never agree to do something I might not finish.
HONOR IS ALL.

I was dared to sign up for a dating site. If anyone knew my "style," so to speak, they would know that I have no interest in dating the opposite sex (only friendship lol).

Your style is being gay.
All right.
Admittedly I haven't been on many dating sites but I'm pretty sure most do offer options for people seeking people of the same sex.

However, I got a free meal out of it, so it was not too bad. Never again, though.

I'm debating with myself whether or not this is dishonest.
I mean this woman owed the guy she dated nothing and he should expect to go on a couple of dates that go bust (price of business and all that) but he never had a chance with this woman by definition so I think it's pretty dishonest of her to let him pay for it.
I guess she (or anyone) could readily argue she provided him company but then again that was reciprocated so I'm not sure.

I have graduated, I guess, to my first "real" AM MT fight. We'll see if I can stay healthy this time.

Not sure what AM is but MT is Muay Thai, one of the manliest forms of unarmed combat there is.
Basically someone came up with the idea that it's twice as effective to elbow someone after you punch them in the face and built an entire martial art around turning your punches into elbow punch combos.
Of course I suspect a lot of the success of Muay Thai might have to do with the training regimen that includes PUNCHING BANANA TREES UNTIL YOUR KNUCKLES ARE LIKE IRON.
And now we go back to last year:

What are your New Year's resolutions? Do you think you'll stick to any of them? If so, for how long?

Fuck resolutions.

Have about 2 Amateur MT (no shin guards or helmet) fights; 2 or so MMA fights

>helmet
>Muay Thai
That just feels wrong.

What was the last juicy generalization from which you freed yourself? What caused your perspective to change?

I don't remember or understand this question. Are people making generalizations about me? I assume not because my perspective is the one changing so I have to guess I'm making generalizations about others but then what's up with "juicy" generalizations like I'm gossiping about the generalizations I make?
In which case I don't free myself from generalizations. Generalizations are vital to understanding how people think, because few men think for themselves and so therefore you must understand how they tap into the collective hivemind and feed off each other.

I used to think that all relationships among people had this narcissistic/co-narcissistic balance. Haven't you ever met the overzealous, self absorbed, highly insecure boss with the do-good-er subordinate who lets him or her get away with it? How about an addict that seeks to take advantage of enablers?

No idea what you're talking about.

I used to think that this black and white dichotomy was a law of nature like gravity. Having that notion always led me to sleep with one eye open, so to speak.

Am I just fucking stupid today or is nothing making sense anymore?

Do you believe that violence in media promotes violence in real life? Does media reflect cultural values or can it actively reshape them?

Oh God no.

I fail to believe that media evenhandedly promotes violence in our society without other influences.

What the fuck does that even mean? The media evenhandedly promotes violence, what?
"Evenhandedly" implies "fairly" or "balanced", wouldn't it? So it portrays violence in an unfair or harsh light so-- God, no.

Humans are violent by nature.

The Eldar are manipulative and deceitful by nature.
Make my favorite Dawn of War character a mute emofag, will you?
I just can't believe Tarkus, the voice of reason amidst the flamboyantly gay guy, the idiot whose only solution to a problem was to shoot it with a giant, man-portable cannon and the guy who sounds like he smoked about 50 packs before recording would take a vow of silence over something he HAD NO CONTROL OVER.
Without Davian Thule now this motley crew is fucked.

Do you think a marriage license should have a renewal or expiration date, just like a driver's license?

Oh I remember this question.
I think I said no it shouldn't because of something like not breaking a vow or something--

I try to explain to most people that marriage should be under a month-to-month renewable contract with the option to sub-lease or transfer. A learner's permit would be nice for some *cough* . Really, how is that different than the paper people sign now, or how people treat marriage? Technically, marriage is not really a permanent, cherished institution if divorce is always an option, and quartering is not a required punishment for adultery...

That's a great point. We're making divorce illegal and reinstating quartering as a punishment.
Don't want to have your limbs ripped off by horses? Do what you're supposed to do.

Needless to say, I don't date much. Hell, I only date because I can't always afford to eat out on my own dime.

Telling you people. Go to SE Asia.

A girl gets hungry, you know (totally, NOT joking)....

Joking about what? Women eating? Yeah I've seen them a few times.
The fact you trick people into paying for your food? Again, not surprising.
And come to think of it, if the main plot point of Chaos Rising was that one of your team bargained with a demon to allow the strike cruiser through the Warp then why do you activate a teleporter that lets you move between planets at will without a ship?
Shouldn't Martellus have maybe mentioned that exists?
Oh that's right we need a convenient plot solution for how Captain Diomedes the idiot can move from place to place without the massive resources of the rest of his chapter.
I guess my main problem with Chaos Rising is the game was so shitty it's actually affecting RETRIBUTION with its stink, somehow.
The writers even took the logical solution of flashing forward to avoid the immediate fallout of the events of Chaos Rising and they still can't escape it.
I mean they even fucked up the story of their own game because if all your squads stay pure then Martellus is the traitor so I'd assume that's the canonical end for that game but then Retribution starts up and Martellus is your bro again so who's the traitor?
Currently I'm assuming they're going to pull that old card of THE FORCE COMMANDER FROM THE LAST TWO GAMES WAS EVIL ALL ALONG in which case I'm never playing Dawn of War again.
Oh right, blogs.
Oh I'm at the start of this blog, how handy.
Anyway I'm off to bed because I have my own battle to fight tomorrow in real life.

DRAMA! ANGST!

LIVEJOURNAL!
I knew I was in for easy pickings when the writer's block went as such:

What's your most debilitating insecurity? Do you think you'll ever overcome it?

My most debilitating insecurity is that I am far, far too awesome to deal with a quarter of the people I do.
There is clearly an awesome limit and I have crossed it. It's like the limit break quests in FFXI. I had to gather a ton of dumb bullshit to level awesome this high.
Anyway here we have some melodramatic high school girl who's on about something.

My biggest insecurity.. My self esteem sucks. Horribly. I'd like to overcome the idea that im "worthless" and "ugly".

YOU ARE ALL WORTHLESS AND WEAK.

I don't know if I can ever TRULY overcome it though. Maybe mask it, but not cure it.

You're not good enough to conquer insecurity.
I'd make a great therapist.

Study hall. Oh joy, study hall. Consisting mostly of just a teacher, and I, it's tense as hell without my ear buds shoved into my ears. It's quiet, all except for my tunes and keyboard click clack.

It's intense sitting here wanting to shop at Hot Topic all day.

Yeah, man. It's better than actually LEARNING though, so thats a plus. And, I get to sit here, on my ass for 50 minutes doing nothing but texting, typing, and bobbing my head back and forth to this and that.

>bobbing my head back and forth
HEH I'LL SAY.
Also this sounds like any other class at the school I teach at but whatever.
Learning is hard, being stupid is easy-- natural decision.

This is the source of obesity. I failed gym though, so there's nothing I can do about that.

How the fuck do you fail gym? I didn't even show up half the time and still passed.

These keyboards are practically prehistoric. This whole computer is prehistoric. There is dust all over the place, and this computer lags like a bitch. Fuck it.

I have a computer made in 1993 and it doesn't lag. I understand if you take care of things they'll work better.
It does BSOD constantly but Windows 95, what can you do?
I had totally forgotten this but when Windows 95 doesn't find an error in its index of like 2 errors it just BSODs. 95% of the time you can just press enter and it goes away.
Recovering from a BSOD just like that.
TRULY THIS IS THE FUTURE.
Also the "DOS support" is really bad on Windows 95.
It doesn't work a solid 50% of the time and if I have to do something tricky like configure Soundblaster the sound chip sounds like it's shitting itself.
God I love 90s technology.

Today, so far, has been normal. I suppose. Same douche bags being douche bags, same bitches being bitches, same academic shit, same desks, same everything. The only difference is the tension and anxiety about finals coming up. I know I'm stressing. If I don't get good grades, I get banned from seeing Tyler. So, yeah. I NEED good grades. Need them.

Banned from seeing Tyler?
NO!
Don't your parents understand you're like what's that bitches name from Twilight and Edward?
DON'T THEY UNDERSTAND YOUR ETERNAL, UNDYING LOVE?
Goddamn fuck being a teenager.

One more period to go. And then, I get to go home. And study. And call Tyler. And watch the Season Premiere of Being Human. But, first I have to get past the whole bus ride situation.

The bus is the picture of filth. Honestly. And, some of the people who ride it, aren't so different. I sit in the back, obviously. Hell knows what I'd do to the poor 6th and 7th graders who sat in the front. Probably traumatize them with my perverted wisdom?

>High school kid
>wise
HA!
Truly those who consider themselves wise are not.

I don't know. Back to my point? The assholes sit in the back. The guys who think they're too cool to be in school.

Ha, yeah. All guys who sat in the back are assholes.
Especially that one kid who sat in the fire exit seat because then he wouldn't have to sit next to anyone.
Hmm, suddenly reminded that I sat there.
Well, anyway.

Which is total bull, I know. We all know.

Weren't you just saying you hated school and how learning was dumb and pointless?
Aren't you kind of being too cool for school when you do shit like that?

So, I deal with them. And their ass-holery. Which is hard. Harder than RJ Bergers dick. But, I deal.

And other references I understand.

School is just over rated. The bus is over rated. Study Hall is over rated.

Sorry, You've heard this all before.

*Sigh* Typical teenage rants. How unoriginal.

EVERYTHING IS OVERRATED, MAN. SHUT UP. I'M A HIGH FUNCTIONING AUTISTIC.

It's 6th period. Study Hall. I'm in a back room located somewhere in my school, with TWO other people. Aren't there supposed to be more people in Study Halls? There is some junior chick, the teacher, and me. It's so awkward and quiet. Thank god I have my head phones right? Without them, I'm sure I'd die from the tension.

90% of all comedy is borne of awkward silences I think.

Only sound I hear is Jawbreaker's song Million and the click clack of the keyboard. These keyboards suck. Along with the actual computer, it's practically prehestoric.

Didn't I already read this?
I don't need to work so hard on these updates. Just copy and paste old ones and update the musical references and I'm good to go.
Speaking of musical references: I made the horrific mistake a week ago of clicking on some Korean words on Youtube. It lead to a song that has BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD EVER SINCE.
But since I don't understand any of the words it just kind of comes out WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS whenever I start humming it to myself.
Fucking hell.
Oh well I guess that's my mistake for clicking anything Korean on Youtube and assuming it'll lead to anything but PAIN.
Maybe it's like The Ring and I just have to pass it on to someone else.
I'll be sure to ambush one of my friends on MSN with it tonight.

Oh well. My day has gone by very... fast? I can't necessarily say that because It went at a medium sort of pace.

All days bleed into one
BLEED LIKE THE BLACK OIL FROM MY WRISTS
I guess this isn't that emo as it is melodramatic and dumb.

Bre has been my closest chick friend since 6th grade. She's in nearly all of my classes, and she has the ability to make even the most boring science assignment interesting. But, today she was gone. She didn't answer back my texts so I suspect she's in Illinois. Her cousin is dying. He was an alchoholic and his system is now shutting down. He's neutral, but they are guessing he is going to pass soon. I wish the whole family luck. Get better soon, Andy!

>get better
>he's dying
Not the right thing to say, I think.

I just cannot wait until tomorrow. It's thursday today but It feels like a friday, so I acted like it was. I did practically NO work today. None. My mind wasn't focused on school work whatsoever today. I was thinking about Tyler, Bre, the bus ride home, my music, my bladder, my cell phone, Study Hall.. just all this random shit that isn't even slightly close to being academic.

You know I have to give her some credit. Her grammar is orders better than the average idiot.

I still have approximately 30 minutes left until class is over. Shit. How much more bored could I be?! Damn. I'd surf the web, but certain sites are blocked due to "Mature Content" so I don't even try anymore.

Ha, ha the school filter stops you from browsing the internet.
GIRLS AND TECHNOLOGY, AM I RIGHT?
I remember when I was in school we just used a proxy. Nothing fancy.

I was born on May 8th, 1996.

I remember 1996.
So let's see, that makes you 14.
Yeah, gotta give it to you. Your grammar is orders better than any of the idiots I teach and they're your age.

Maybe people just don't like me because they're afraid?

Yeah, afraid of your scrawny ass.

Haha. Bull. That's what my shrinks have been telling me from day one. "Oh, honey. They're just jealous of you." Aww. How sweet. My parents are paying you to sugar coat my life? I don't think so.

You know what'd make this a lot more interesting? If it read like that scene from The Inquisition War.

I didn't realize it until about 2 months ago but.. Shit. There are so many people in my school who I just want to smoosh knowledge and understanding into their brain with a 3 inch thick paddle.

Yeah, see? Instead of that dumb shit it could read like this:

"WE ARE CURIOUS," came a mighty anguished thought which itself transcended time. "WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR INTRUSION INTO OUR SANCTUARY, OUR ANTRUM AND ADYTUM.

"My lord." Jaq sank to his knees. "I beg to report to you before I am destroyed. I may have uncovered a major conspiracy-"

"THEN WE WILL STRIP YOUR SOUL BARE. RELAX, MORTAL MAN, OR YOU WILL SURELY DIE IN SUCH PAIN AS WE ALWAYS ENDURE."

"WE HAVE PUT BACK WHAT WE TOOK AND TASTED, INQUISITOR"

"WE ARE MANY, INQUISITOR"

"HOW ELSE COULD WE ADMINISTER OUR IMPERIUM-"

"AS WELL AS WINNOW THE WARP-"

"HOW ELSE?"

That'd be amazing. Oh well, probably best it doesn't read like that because then I'd have this update about this AWESOME BLOG I JUST FOUND.

One kid hates me because I'm bisexual. One hates me because according to him, I'm "emo". One hates me because I'm friends with a certain person.

Yeah but see, instead of that it'd read like this:

"WE ARE AN EVER WATCHFUL LORD, ARE WE NOT? DID YOU HOPE TO GAIN OUR UNDIVIDED ATTENTION?"

"HOW ELSE SHOULD WE SOUL-BIND PSYKERS AND OVERVIEW THE WARP AND BEAM THE ASTRONOMICAN BEACON AND SURVIVE AND RECEIVE INFORMATION AND GRANT AUDIENCES ALL AT ONCE, UNLESS WE ARE MANY?"

"AND YET STILL WE MISS SO MUCH, SO VERY MUCH? SUCH AS THAT WHICH GUIDED YOU HERE"

The Emperor of Mankind is so hardcore he talks in all caps. Also he refers to himself as "we" because he's literally multiple people in the same body. That must get really awkward.

Shit. Get to know me. I imagine you'd like me if you sat down, put all my difficulties aside and just TALKED to me.

Yeah, except-- no.

I'd appreciate it. But, instead they ridicule me because I'm not the average straight, perky, boring, *perfect* bitch. I'm not saying that anybody who is straight, and perky are bitches, necessarily. Just, most of the straight and perky girls I know are bitches. No stereotyping. I swear to jeebus.

I've made several key decisions about your character I feel you can agree with:
A. You are 14.

B. You are decidedly not a delicious brown or yellow girl

C. You are a melodramatic attention whore

Therefore I have decided I never want to hear from you. Fortunately for you one of these things will cure itself, one will never ever be cured and one might be if you worked at it, which you won't.
GRIM FUTURE. Also I like how you cry "stereotyping" but when you do it it's somehow the truth. That's a neat trick I'll have to try sometime.

People generally take one look at me and judge me on the way I look. They look at my big nose (which I'm not ashamed of), my eyeliner, my skinnies, my nikes, my mis-matching earrings and they JUDGE me.

Judge you the same way I have rendered judgment across hundreds of blogs. Hundreds of blogs, millions of words, and yet all the same.

That's all people do these days. Not all people, no. But, most people in my school think judging is a hobby.

It is a fun hobby, yes. Seriously, age a couple years and somehow transform into a DBG and we can talk shop. Until then, keep your crazy shit to yourself.