FUCK

Took a little longer to get the internet than I expected.
I was supposed to inherit the guy who owned the apartment before me's internet contract but he decided to be a standup dudebro and sold it to a friend instead.
Fortunately I managed to break into a neighbor's router because they didn't change the default router password and they were blockbusting it anyway.
So between the jet lag and adjusting to not being a citizen of Freedom anymore and doing other shit with my time there has been a lull in updates.
But it's okay because I made a hiatus post so there's no problem there.
So here I am sitting in my underwear at 12:30 in the morning just in South Korea instead of America now.
How much changes and how little changes.
South Korea is quite a trip, too. I could spend an entire post just talking about that instead of some bullshit blog but I imagine people come here for blogs so let's just do the thing where I post around blog entries and barely acknowledge them.
Yeah this'll work.

Guys, I can't even tell you how much I love Speed. I watched it every night for a month when it came out on tape (yes, VHS). I have what you might call a Keanu Reeves situation and this movie only exacerbated it (I also watched The Matrix every night for a month and also every time HBO showed it when it first came out). I mean, I still think the extra bit at the end with the subway is overkill and unnecessary, but generally speaking, it is an excellent action movie, and while not quite at the top tier of the pantheon with Die Hard or the Terminator movies, it's definitely in my top five. Also, I kind of totally ship Keanu and Sandra Bullock because of this movie. I am just saying. 

Yeah you go ahead and ship the hell out of that movie you fucking weirdo.
So anyway I left the US of Freedom on the 21st I think of May and proceeded to ride on an airplane for what I understand to be the next 127 years.
First I left at 2 AM with my dad to drive up to Raleigh Durham International Airport. This was after not sleeping at all, so already I'm down about 24 hours of sleep.
I proceed to fly to New York which takes, what, an hour and a half or so?
Then there's a five hour layover at JFK.
Then I fly the next 13 hours from JFK to Incheon-Seoul International.
I catnapped what I suspect is 5 hours but when you're flying over Canada, the North Pole then down into Russia and China and around North Korea and you cross about 17 timezones and the international dateline time sort of stops having meaning.
This wasn't all at once, of course. I'd sleep about an hour then wake so violently one time I actually found myself standing up before I was fully awake.
Definitely not a nervous reaction, or anything.
So I land at Incheon.
At this point I'm so delirious and not thinking I see a distant island and assume it's Japan.
It's technically possible to see Japan from Busan but, of course, Incheon is on the other side of the country.
So then I meet the lady what got me this job.
She's pretty much my first introduction to what Korea really be like.
So we chit chat, catch a bus ride where I thought we were going to die about ten times (turns out it was very tame compared to later trips in transportation)

- I've been thinking a lot about Bucky lately (um, even more than usual I guess?), because the thing is, the thing is, Bucky's recovery should be hard and it should be heartbreaking at times but it should also be hopeful. The whole point is that he comes back from what was done to him. He's not the same person he was, but no one who lives any significant amount of time remains exactly the same person they were at 18 or 24, even if they haven't been sent off to war or had unspeakable things done to them, and it's not that Bucky is 'fixed' or whatever, it's that he survives long enough to be able to start living again,

Yeah I'm sure you can characterize better than the fucking people hired to do that for their job you fanfiction writing zero.
Anyway so we ride in the bus and chitchat a bit then it's time to go to Gimpo airport.
For the record I like Gimpo airport. It reminds me of the airport I lived by in North Carolina.
As in they built a way better airport not an hour away and it's sort of struggling for a use in 2014.
So you probably know the purpose of an airport is to milk you for as much money as possible so I've officially had to check my luggage twice at 100 dollars a go and I'm about to do it a third time.
I walk up, put my bags on the scale.
The lady looks at the reading and starts saying words.
I don't know what these words mean but I know instinctively as a citizen of the USA that means it's time to get my wallet out.
So I get my wallet out.
The lady who got me this job grabs my wallet from me.
She looks at the lady demanding money and there is a tense argument in Korean for about 3 minutes.
Finally a manager walks over.
He looks at the lady wanting money
He looks at the lady who got me this job
He looks at me with this look in his eye that says "oh God just kill me"
He shrugs and waves my bags through.
No baggage fee.
She hands me my wallet back and I immediately know the gift I bought her for getting me this job was a wise investment.
Like we talked about books and I said you know she's the one person you know so maybe make sure that stays cozy.
I kind of suspected she was an operator but I didn't know--
and that proved a correct assessment.
So she puts me on the airplane to Gimpo and this is my second lesson in how not America Korea is.
After a scary moment of trying to find the baggage check station because they suddenly got suspicious of shaving lotion I go to the place where they put you in the airplane.
But hey wait a second we're going downstairs.
Oh ok now we're just in the airfield.
Oh now we're getting on a bus and driving out to the middle of where airplanes live and they're loading us on it like it's the 1950s. Complete with the stairs.
There's literally no one stopping me from just bolting down the runway.
They'd never find me.

snapshot from the life of a fangirl:

Why is this story so terrible? AND WHY AM I STILL READING IT?

It's funny 'cause it's true. *hands*

Fuck me.
So at this point I realize it's approaching 6 PM some vague time in the future and I've slept maybe 5 hours not all at once in the past--
3 days?
4 days?
For me it has felt like 3 days but it has actually been 4 days going by time changes.
It's slowly catching up to me but the adrenaline is still screaming through my veins at a million miles an hour.
At this point I'm so out of my element that I'm not even sure I had an element.
So I'm on an airplane to Busan and I realize this journey is finally nearing the end.
The pilot spends what I suspect is the entire flight talking about baseball in English.
He saw the entire 30 or so people on the plane. I'm the only round eye so I'm pretty sure he was just talking to me.
About baseball.
I'm 30,000 feet over the middle of South Korea listening to a pilot talk to me about baseball with no way of responding.
I haven't slept in 3 days.
If you notice me saying "I suspect" a lot it's because, well, as I said the entire journey was such a blizzard of insanity, hustle and not fully grasping the situation that it might have been weeks for all I knew.
I'm glossing over the 13 hour flight, incidentally.
Let me back up and say there's a point about 8 hours in where you realize you have to be on this airplane for another 5 hours where you start hoping it just quietly drops into the Arctic.
No survivors.
So I land in Busan and there's supposed to be a man with a sign.
Of course he doesn't have a sign. He just looks for the one American exiting the airport.
So he helps me load my shit into his van and I get in.
It occurs to me this could just be a kidnapper and I could be on my way to North Korea. He just walks up to me and grabs my shit and I just go with it.
At this point I don't care I just hope they make it quick.
So I'm informed Busan is about an hour away from Changwon so I dig in and let the haze settle over me.
It's twilight, there's some kind of 80s music on and this guy seems chill so I'm thinking hey, this isn't so bad.
I need to get a radio and enjoy the smooth sound of 97.1.

Last night, I rewatched "Curahee" and "Day of Days," which I feel make an amazing 2 hour movie, even if you never watch the rest of the series, though I of course highly recommend (re)watching the whole thing, especially since all the HBO shows are now on Amazon Prime for free.

[I might finally get around to doing a Wire rewatch, because I won't have to unplug my Roku to plug in the blu-ray player, which is annoying. Why does my new television, bought in September 2012, only have two HDMI inputs? one of which goes to the cable box, so the other two have to switch out (yes, I could get a splitter or whatever it's actually called, but I'd rather just complain, especially since it's easy enough to unplug on cord and plug in the other when necessary, and also so much is available streaming now that I don't have to actually do it that often.)]

Wow she likes The Wire.
That's not a show you can "ship" easily so I figured it'd be a bit above her.
Also it's really gritty and not at all cute.
It's pretty violent and grim, in fact.
Oh but that black guy who was in Pacific Rim is in it. That's probably why she likes it.
Fuck.
So anyway after about 20 minutes we're just there.
Welcome to Changwon.
This guy is there to meet me. He grabs my shit and we go up an elevator.
I haven't slept in 47 hours at this point, I feel like I've been fired out of a cannon and already I know I don't like this guy.
My legendary snap judgment of my fellow man hasn't failed, at least.
So we go upstairs. I meet the boss who doesn't speak English. He tries to give me food and at this point I'm not having it. I just want to sleep and not die.
Or maybe die.
I don't even know at this point.
So after a weird 10 minutes?
50 minutes?
Who knows?
I get in the dude who I reckon is an asshole's car and we drive to the hotel.
The hotel is like nothing I have ever seen. Firstly it exists on only the 10th floor of this 12 story erection of a skyscraper.
So I take a shower (first in two days wooo) and I realize oh
hey
showers don't come in stalls in Korea.
Whatever.
So I go to sleep and pass the fuck out.
It is 8 PM.
4 hours later I wake up and I'm pretty sure I'm dying.
I somehow go back to sleep about an hour later and I wake up, whamo, at 9 AM.
I'm supposed to meet them at 1 and I figure this is a getting to know you bullshit exercise.
So I dick around until 1. I watch the TV.
The TV is fucking surreal. I'm watching what I assumed was 3rd string girl band Ladies' Code and some flamboyant homosexual watch video of other fags ambushing guys on the street and asking them about what it is they're wearing.
Then Ladies' Code talks about what losers they are based on this information.
It's at this point that time dilates and I have about 10 minutes of thoughts in 10 seconds.

I also wrote 1000 words last night! Shocking! 

So I get hopelessly lost. My phone, naturally, doesn't work.
Despite promises that it would it doesn't make outgoing calls. It can text oh, it can text if you pay.
Thanks a lot, Verizon.
My data was turned off.
Thanks a bunch, Verizon. Sure am glad I paid 100 dollars a month for this wonderful service.
Now they're emailing me about renewing my contract. You could piss up my leg that's how pissed I am over this phone fiasco.
So I go to the phone in the room. It doesn't work.
It just doesn't work.
If it works I don't know how to make it go.
Numbers resemble American numbers. It's a set of three then a set of four numbers.
No area code though, that's weird--
so this shit ain't working.
So I go outside the hotel and I see a guy about my age and through desperate looks and elaborate pantomime I manage to signal my desire to use his phone and he just hands it over.
I can't imagine that happening in America where a basically non-verbal foreigner emerges from a seedy hotel and just asks to make a phone call and the hapless dope roped into this just goes "yeah ok."
So I call them and say holy shit I can't find the place.
OH BUT I SHOWED YOU YESTERDAY says the asshole I talked about before.
Dude you took me in a car
at night
showing a man with severe jet lag who hasn't slept in a week.
Yeah I forgot.
I know it's straight up the road and a left. I don't know which way I'm going though.
Well get a taxi, click.
FUCK THAT GUY.
So I manage to enlist an entire street corner in Changwon--
like 15 people--
to help me solve where the fuck it is I am and where the fuck it is I work.
Somehow through elaborate pantomime and broken English we figure it out and they hail a taxi for me and tell the guy what I need.
Thank the fuck Christ the people on the street are so nice.
That's one thing you learn pretty fast in Korea. People are super nice.
They'll walk up and start talking to you.
You tell them you don't understand and they'll keep talking to you.
I talk back in English.
No one understands shit but we're having a conversation.
It's like Ghost Dog. Ever seen that movie?
Anyway so I get to the job and this manager is a real asshole luckily I don't have to deal with him too often.
Owner seems like a nice enough guy though.
I wind up staying until 9 PM that night because I need trained.
Trained how to give kids a test.
Is this real life?
Yes it is.
So shit goes and goes forever and I think time dilated again.

 I have looked at a lot of condo/co-op listings over the past few weeks, and man, people are terrible at taking pictures. Eventually - I don't have a time table but eventually (and hopefully before interest rates go up too much) - I'll progress to looking in person, and the pictures won't really matter, but for now, at least, I've figured out what my priorities are and what would be in my theoretical price range. I'm reconciling myself to leaving Manhattan, too.

Haha cool enjoy sleeping in a hallway in Manhattan with the rats
So anyway at this point they send me home because I was looking a little haggard and a visiting parent apparently took offense that they weren't letting me recover a bit before throwing me into it.
So the first week is pretty uneventful, honestly. Just go to work
see training that I don't need because at this point I'm not even sure what it is I need
Friday rolls around and I go out with one of the western teachers and her friends.
So it's three American, 3 Brits, a girl from Scotland and an Australian girl.
The Australian girl is like 7 foot tall and natural blonde so needless to say she got stopped on the street.
It was quite a spectacle all around.
Had my first drink of soju which is Korea's experiment into how dangerous they can make alcohol.
It costs 1,200 won at a 7-11.
Yeah they sell hard liquor at 7-11 here and you can drink at 7 AM if you want.
There are no laws.
There should be a couple of laws.
1,200 won for those of you who don't know is about a buck fifty.
A dollar and fifty cents.
What does soju taste like for less than the price of a Big Mac?
It must be like motor oil, surely.
The answer is it tastes like water.
It goes down like water.
You are drinking water, basically.
Except it will fuck you up.
So I had to say no to that because that's how alcoholism begins.
That was only later, in fact.
At this point in the story I've already shotgunned a bottle of it.
So everyone is very impressed with my ability to not be dead at this point and I start thinking apparently all that visualization that I'm a space marine has paid off.
So now it's time to go to norebang since it's this one grill's birthday.
What the fuck is norebang?
Well nore is Korean for noise
and bang is room.
It's karaoke.
It is fucking karaoke but we call it norebang because that's just what we call it.
So me and Adam--
this British engineer who has lived here for 3 years--
we get separated from the party and wind up going to the wrong floor.
This is norebang too but this is sexy norebang.
What the fuck is the difference?
It's hookers.
Obviously, come on.
So I'm standing there
at 3 AM on a Friday
after alcohol like water
this hooker is trying to talk to me
I look outside and it sinks in: I've finally done it. I've eversed (that's barely a word fuck off, Firefox spellchecker) and I'm in a William Gibson novel.
The lights
the fact this hooker, in South Korea, is just trying to have a casual conversation with me because we just happened to hit the wrong floor--
I'm here.
So we say no, in fact, we wanted the boilerplate norebang experience and not the sexy norebang so we leave.
Some time later we leave and it's time for sleeping.
It's 5 in the morning.
Anyway great next morning. Woke up around noon.
No hangover because I don't get those.
So then--
Jesus.
Stuff on the weekend.
I spent something like 9 hours trying to buy a radio to listen to that smooth 80s. I finally find a place that sells radios basically directly behind where I was staying so that was good.
I get it.
It's a piece of shit. Picks up like 3 stations including the University of Changwon's station which mostly just plays The Beatles, weird shit I can't identify and English lessons.
So, you know, typical college radio.
I don't remember Sunday. I'm pretty sure I watched TV all day.
Tried to figure out what the fuck Tasty Road was and why those girls were famous.
Working--
get my apartment.
The lock doesn't work very well so I just leave my door unlocked.
Have to clean it because it's been uninhabited for 7 months and wasn't very clean to start with.
Bizarre stain on the floor I can't get out.
Except it covers a lot of the floor.
Basically at least once a day I feel like I'm in a David Lynch movie. Shit is happening around me that's so surreal I can't even begin to explain to you what's in front of me.
Like you can't even make quality judgments about this shit. Is it good? Is it bad?
All you can say is that is a thing in front of me that exists, somehow, on the same material plane as me.
I think I figured out why, too.
It's because if it was totally alien to me I could just call it that.
This is unlike what I'm used to and be done with it.
But no, of course, there's always one tiny detail that informs me that no, normalcy isn't far away.
Like last Saturday I'm going to Daiso to buy bowls and I see a man and a woman having a screaming argument with each other and the people around them are just walking around them not paying attention-
and I don't mean like trying desperately not to stare because it's rude like you've just seen a retard or something. I mean they don't give a single fuck about this. "Yep, same shit as always" seemed to be the general emotion.
So I've stopped to watch this because what the fuck and that's when I notice they're arguing outside of an Olleh mobile dealer (that's a cellphone provider here) and Olleh has a bad habit of playing music that's too loud outside their store.
What's on the radio?
Is it Kpop like it usually is?
No, it's Careless Whisper by George Michael.
Something about the situation, because of George Michael, just made it too weird.
That was the touch that it needed.
So to get away from it all I wander in a direction I hadn't gone yet.
I come across this building.
It's an apartment complex.
But not just any apartment complex.
This thing is like a hab block from Warhammer or Judge Dredd.
The size of this building is fucking mind boggling. I'm going to get a picture this weekend.
Just the sheer logistics of this thing had me reeling. The people that lived just in that building were like a small city.
Then I look down and I see a middle school and I realize that entire school probably only takes kids from that apartment complex.
Then I look to the left of it and to the right and I realize oh
there are three of them.
Then I start to walk to them because I'm still not sure if maybe my mind is playing tricks on me and I see a city map.
There are 26 of them.
I'm sure this is just a big city thing and I'm not used to it because I lived in fucking Maryland and North Carolina but something about those buildings made me dizzy.
So anyway I guess to get to my assessment of the situation I'd have to say so far it has been overwhelmingly very positive.
The job is a job but it isn't so bad.
The people have been very friendly.
The sights have certainly been unique and always interesting.
I handle the surreal elements very well since that's basically my interest and aesthetic but I can see why people might struggle to adapt to a foreign setting like this.
All I can say is about 4 years ago I applied for a job in Japan and almost got it but didn't and I'm really glad because I doubt I'd have been able to hack it.
I needed to know things I didn't know then.
So that is the story so far.
I'll probably go into details about this shit more later--
probably not here, though.
I'll see.
Anyway I gotta go to bed. It's 2 AM.

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.

u mad

Wow you people are extra boring today. This is probably why I never leave my house. Also, you know, dragons to slay on the internet and such like.
Anyway today we have According to Desiree... she's pretty bland and devoid of character. Her life reads like a Lifetime movie character's life.
doctors appointment today.
still on prozac. the doctor recommended some councilors/therapists. mom doesn't think she can afford one. we don't have health insurance.
So already this is registering high on the "who gives a shit" meter. In fact, I'm already looking at my DS sitting in front of me. Yeah, I do wonder what's going on in the fascinating world of Pokemons.

i got asked out on a date.
like. a date date datey date.

So many directions I could take this, but I think I'll go the self deprecating one this time: something I'll never know, having admitted to playing Pokemon do, ho, ho.

not "let's hang out sometime"
but "are you free saturday? i wanted to take you to dinner."

I've seen pictures of Desiree, I think you made a critical flaw your wallet is going to be regretting.

by jesse. i don't even know his last name. i don't know anything about him.
we've been playing phone tag.

Ah yes I forgot to address the million sentence fragments that are her blog. You know there's a punctuation mark between a full stop and a comma, right? It's called a semicolon. Actually just kidding based on what I've seen so far the only punctuation marks you're aware of are the ellipsis and the period.

i miss youth group.
i miss everyone there & most importantly, i miss feeling close to god.
i'm not joking. i miss reading my bible. i always forget to pray before i go to sleep.

Personally I suggest finding better things to read but all right if that's your bag you could read the Bible on your own. You know, use that critical thinking English teachers (in theory, anyway, if they're doing what they're supposed to be doing) tried to pound into your head for your entire childhood?

my life is weird & i don't know why i feel like crying right now.
the tears are swelling in my eyes & my body is getting goose bumps all over
and my ears are tingling & my heart feels like breaking.
what am i doing?

I'm listening to I Ran by Flock of Seagulls. Feels good, man.

i HATE it when you get like this.
you didn't even let me explain myself.
you just signed off.

Ha, ha treating the internet like real life. You girls need to stop treating the internet like an overly complex networking site and treat it for what it really is: a sewer.

i was talking to other people via facebook im & my computer is really old, it freezes up.

So take better fucking care of it. I got a computer for 20 bucks (monitor included) from a flea market that still has Windows 95 on it (and is from 1994) that I'm sure has been dropped before and after much dicking around with it it works perfectly. I use it to play DOS games. Fuck year, DOS games. DOSbox? Get that shit out of here.

he was venting to me & all i said in response was "i'm sorry." as in... i'm sorry you feel that way. what else was i supposed to say?

How about "stop talking to me" or "I gotta go do something interesting now and you're definitely not invited" or "get some nice Summer's Eve because you're clearly a cunt" I don't fucking know. They're your friends. My friends don't bitch like faggots every time something bad happens to them.

gosh, how could you say i do a horrible job of being there for you?
every time you like a guy i have some interest in, i let you go for him.
i drove you to the airport & to your school today.

Jesus, God do you make everything complicated. Look, you two are bros. Bros drive each other to airports. You shouldn't tally this shit together like it's some kind of give and take, because if it's a friendship it shouldn't fucking matter.

she is a riot. she has the worst mouth ever & this thick brooklyn accent.

Ha, ha you are a card.

this past week has been cah-razy. shaun & joan are here. you know, my older brother who lives in china & his new chinese wife who i have never met before now.

Huh looks like the interesting family member left for the other side of the world.
Well good for him.

she likes to talk to me about makeup & hair stuff & shopping. she's really ridiculously tiny, like most asian girls. makes me feel like a huge elephant around her, but that's okay.

Huh yeah I'm sure you just look like an elephant next to her. Not, you know, most people not 150 pounds.
ICED.

this is her first time being in america. we're going to hilton head tomorrow. =) maybe we can go to harold's diner!

Yes you truly haven't been to America without stopping by HAROLD'S DINER!

anna leaves on wednesday, too. back to texas.

Back to Texas, implying they let you leave there once you're there. TRULY THERE IS NO JUSTICE IN THE WORLD.

our jonas concert is soon. =) we're staying at the ritz in atlanta, where the boys will be staying, too. i cannot wait.

>staying at the Ritz
>at the Ritz
>RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITZ
Ha, ha wow this post does drag on.

i have important stuff to do, i need money to do it.
so i work, but since i work so much, there is no time to do the important stuff.

Life is hell.
But seriously, you know, you could try to be less of a materialistic whore JUST KIDDING THAT'S NEVER HAPPENING.

mel, anna, derek, & van were in an car accident. they were coming back from savannah & it was raining really hard, with extremely strong winds. they hydroplaned & hit the car in front of them & landed in a ditch.

Further proof New Yorkers suck at driving and shouldn't be allowed to buy cars.

i am scared to bring back these overdue books to the library.

So keep them home and incur an even larger fine. Smart.

i always feel selfish when i'm writing in this blog. i feel like i use to the word "i" way too much. or "me", "my", "mine"...

I wonder what my most commonly used word is. I'm sure there's a website. Not counting conjunctions and articles, of course. No common words.
Now there's a post about her best friend's mom dying and somehow she makes it all about herself. Impressive.

i have been miserable since saturday & i've been totally "eating my feelings".
meaning i've been stuffing my face with food.

:3
Wow, Desiree, you sure are boring. I think I'm going to go do something less boring, which is to say could literally be anything. Enjoy your weekend, AIDS patients.