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| Oh my god. I'm watching G4 right now (how sad) and Xplay just played part one of the Metal Gear Solid 4 trailer. Are those Japanese bastards actually going to make a game that I have to play? Please save me, I hate everything about MGS on principle for about a hundred different reasons, I mean just the name Snake is almost too much for me to handle, but the graphics...the graphics...that cigarette in that fucker's mouth, I swear to god I could smoke it. My brain is about to explode right after I get enough money to buy a PS3.
Now all I have to fear is all those people that I told to shoot me if I ever played any war game with a ridiculously macho male lead...
<3<3<3 (Just waiting at my house for you, babe)
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| [edit2] It's blue now, the hair. I'm pretty sure this is a record: three colors and two bleaches in less than three weeks.[2tide]
[edit] Yes, this edit is from my new laptop.[tide]
Let's begin this entry this way: I love you babe, you're my favorite. <3<3<3
Long time no see, my touchy Xanga friends.
Friends? Who am I kidding.
Friend. Of the boy variety; to
whom it's not exactly necessary to write, considering he's sitting on
my couch taking over the HomoCrossing duties. That's what we like to
call this game, to mask how much we actually enjoy its redundant,
trivial gameplay.
In between Nip/Tuck dvds and sushi orders, this is what we do.
And we do it every day, because I'm holding my baby hostage at my house for the whole break! Hahaha.
My hair's green. I really hate it. As much of a shock as it might be to
what few moral standards my soul still abides by, I'm going to bleach
the whole thing and go Darryl Hanna blonde. Who knows where I can get a
vinyl nurse outfit?
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| Game = fun. But fucked up. Shit gave me a serious ass nightmare the other night, that was beyond lame.
Now I'm taking a short break and listening to Earthling (Bowie) and waiting for Josh to get home from my house so that I can talk to him and finish my homework - by the way today is most definitely our glorious anniversary.
Frankenstein homework! And a test tomorrow, too. Must finish some paperwork for the now April murder mystery, write up my invoices for Diane, submit my shin/mid gel choices to Mongo, finish out my production book for Dance Concert really really quick, like in ten minutes tomorrow morning, copy rehearsal reports for Vinnie, Mongo, and me, give the originals to Shanequa, finish the choreographer contact sheet and costume tracking sheets, write a paper for lit, and write a paper for AP. Who the fuck knows what's going on in science, I skipped today for half a pack of reds and a cup of coffee in the freezing rain. Awesome.
Tomorrow's the last day of school before our very, very short vacation, over which (starting Wednesday night) my grandmother will be in town, wondering if I'm still too unattractive to bear her great-grandchildren. Unfortunately Josh and I will be out of commision for her arrival, seeing as we will be at El Pus at the Masq. Oh well. The only thing she'll seriously disrupt is our sleeping habits- she's taking our bed, and we will sleep uncomfortably on separate couches. Ouch. I'll let you know how it goes, because I know you're dying for the details.
<3<3<3 happy forever, babe
Astalavista | | |
| I don't have any time to write an entry, so I'm just going to say:
I sat in on an amazing lecture called "Honor/Shame Societies and Their Roles in Political and Religious Texts". Wonderful Jew professor, he took my dad to Israel one time.
Writing an essay called "Flight Imagery and Escapism in Vurt".
I went to the "largest independent bookstore in the world" yesterday. Powell's. Genres are separated by floors and rooms. I bought four books.
Every paragraph in this entry (with the exception of the introduction and present conclusion) have quotation marks in them.
*****
Lucy is pregnant!! Hooray! <3<3<3
*****
She is death,
All of the time.
She is death,
All of the days.
She is death,
And I can't leave
From her trap.
She is death,
All of the time.
She is death,
All of the days.
She is death.
And I can't leave
From her trap.
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| Although I was able to attend neither Emma's birthday party nor the Masq, I did bum around Decatur with Joanna last night. We ate some good Japanese food and hung out at Java Monkey.
By all logic this weekend should have put me in a good mood, but I'm being mean to everyone, I'm so angry, I'm so sad, I feel like stir-fried shit beyond compare. I want to do anything but homework, and now I have to write a three-page scene for Ms. Johnson's twisted fuck of a play, and an essay on Vurt, which better be good or I'm dead, print AP chapter summaries and study for a large test tomorrow, study for a science test, keep fucking crying for no reason...
[edit] I had a cigarette, mood = mucho improved. PMS is a bitch, yeah? I love you baby,
<3<3<3 [tide] | | |
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