Today will be better, I swear!

Question:

orisghost@gmail.com — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 20:28:08 GMT

Does anyone have a recording of Lake Braddock's performance of Scheherazade from senior year? Orrrr, for that matter, anything awesome the band did? Brian was curious to hear it and all I have of the band is a crummy cassette of something from, like... 1997.

Holy bitchcakes.

orisghost@gmail.com — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 02:02:48 GMT

I've spent this entire week thinking it was last week. I have no idea why, but I have. So I woke up this morning, checked my email and realized that it was, in fact, September 30th. 'Hm,' I says to myself, 'I think there was something I was supposed to do today.' I mentally walk through it and quickly realize: Oh YES, today was the day for my substitute teacher orientation. By the time I realized this, the orientation had already been going on for an hour.

Upset, I call my mother (yes, I am that lame) and cry to her about it. I whined that I had an exammmm tonight and I had been thinking about thattt so much the night before that I'd completely forgoootten like the dipshit loser I am. A whole lot of self-loathing followed and lasted several hours. Then I called FCPS, rescheduled for October 21st and still felt slightly :< because the woman on the phone was a bitch and this means twenty more days of being poor and unemployed.

Spent much of the day studying chapters six and seven from the astronomy text, only to discover that the exam was covering chapters one through five. 'Okay,' thinks I, 'This is still okay because I know that stuff.' WRONG AGAIN! I think the professor decided to come up with the most random, pointless questions he could and then got himself completely stoned and drunk at the same time and thereby managed to arrange those pointless questions into completely incoherent questions via word processor. (Seriously, the man writes horribly, and I'm sorry, but if your grammar and control of language is so poor that I can't fucking understand what it is you're asking, you should not be a professor.) Rrrrgh.

And now I am here. Most likely received a C on the test, which is basically failing. This after having received a 78 on a reading response in Arthurian lit and being all in a tizzy about that. I have no idea why I cannot just fucking deal with not being all "I excel and ace everything!" anymore, but I clearly can't and it sucks. So I will make myself some cocoa while listening to old Sunday Music mixes from B&N, read, calm myself down, and then write. Because sometimes, even though I get this sinking suspicion that I will ultimately fail at writing, too, I feel like it's all that I can do right.

(Oh, and I'm also quite hopelessly and stupidly upset that Brian is watching the new episode of Glee without me, seeing as I was the one who got him to watch it with me in the first place.) PMS MUCH, SELF?

Arthurian lulz.

orisghost@gmail.com — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 23:00:17 GMT

The King Arthur you never knew...

"And it went forth and remained as he had foretold, according to God’s ordinance. And he received the altar which Arthur had thought to convert into a table, but whatever was placed upon it was thrown to a distance." SILLY ARTHUR. TRYING TO MAKE FURNISHINGS OUT OF HOLY GOODS, OHOHOHO.

"This being accepted, Arthur tauntingly refused cows of one colour, but would take parti-coloured ones, that is, with a great deal of shuffling, he desired cows distinguished in their fore part with a red colour and in their hind part with white. And they, being altogether ignorant as to where cattle of this sort of colour were to be found, doubted what plan they should adopt concerning these things." SILLY ARTHURRR. YOU PICKY BITCH.

In other news, Brian continues to be strangely into werewolves. In reference to the sun blinding him: "This wouldn't be a problem if I were a frickin' werewolf. Then I'd have enough hair to shade my eyes." I am working on making the boy a small stuffed thing for our corny-corny one-year celebratory date next Wednesday, but do you think that's too corny? He said anything that I made or anything that reminded him of me would make him happy, and this idea pretty much does both. That in addition to his favorite chocolate ginger brownies and I think I'm okay.

Also: Is it weird that I sometimes wish I'd joined a sorority? Yeah, I thought so, too.

Rastabortionist!

orisghost@gmail.com — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 16:49:02 GMT

I'm sure you probably already seen this, but I hadn't. So I'magonna share.

A girl in my Teaching YA Lit. in Multicultural Classrooms (I still hate the title of that course) class over the summer advised us all to never sub/teach when any of these godawful movies are coming out. I asked her why and her response-- which I should have guessed-- was that there was no way in hell you could get those high school girls to do jack shit in the way of school work when they were drooling over vampires and werewolves.

I was telling all this to Brian last night and he said something like, "Oh, well that's good for you. The movie's already been out for a long time."

To which I replied, "No, I meant the next one."
"There's another?"
"In November."
"Oh. ...What's that one about?"
"Some werewolves and shit."
"I like wolves." *AWKWARD SILENCE*
"What, do you wanna see the trailer or something?"
"Well, I just want to see the werewolf!"
"Okaaay..." *SHOWS BRIAN TRAILER*

*BRIAN PROCEEDS TO REWATCH THE WEREWOLF TRANSFORMING SEQUENCE (ALL FIVES SECONDS OF IT), LIKE... TWENTY TIMES.*

And all he has to say in his defense: "See? That's cool. Way cooler than vampires. RAWR! I wish I was a werewolf."

Hm.

orisghost@gmail.com — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 03:09:57 GMT

I remember freshman year of high school I was way into this crazy Japanese artist, Markio Mori. And I'd completely forgotten her name until now. So, having remembered it, I went off on a journey of the interwebs to see if she'd made anything new.

Well, I didn't find anything new. But I don't remember her work being this creepy.

...And I don't think it's because I've been watching too much Supernatural as of late, either. I think that shit is genuinely eerie.

Beauty shots.

orisghost@gmail.com — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 13:51:10 GMT

Yesterday I had a quick conversation with Brian on the phone (quick because the random house they ended up staying at in New Hampshire is on the top of a towering hill with no reception) during which he asked for my ring size. How the hell should I know-- I told him I'd ask Mom and get back to him on it. Oh, mistakes. I asked her and she goes "IS THERE ANYTHING EXCITING I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT?"

"No." Blank stare. "Oh. You mean-- No. Haha."
"Well, I mean, you're certainly old enough by now to make your own decisions about that."
"...Yeah, I know. Mom, I'm not getting married."
"I know, I just think it'd be more convenient if you waited until you were out of school."
"...Which is why I'm not getting married."

Still waiting for Murakami's 1Q84 to come out. Still no mention of it on his English website. Damn. But I've started reading A History of the English-Speaking Peoples which is kind of hilariously judgmental but very well written. Also picked up a copy of The New Yorker's short story collection Wonderful Town, which I've been puttering through when the tiny print of HotESP gets to killing my eyes. (HotESP looks like a porn site, doesn't it?)

AND FINALLY. The world's greatest quilt shop is at the bottom of my street. It's SO BIG and SO COMFY with bright colors and big comfy chairs and rugs and random little oddities and so much beautiful fabric I think I ruptured something when I went in there. I wish I was at least a middle aged lady so the other middle aged ladies there would accept me into their circle of stitchery, though. When I was looking around I was picking up that "why are you here?" vibe and no one talked to me. Only my mom. Oh well. Drool-worthy fabric. Pictures to follow. (Not of fabric, but of things.)

Just call me LG. Like those people who make the sweet phones.

orisghost@gmail.com — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 14:27:24 GMT

So I went to see Brian at work to deliver cupcakes and stow some away until my class at noon. While standing around blabbing away with Brian, one of his bosses, Cora, walks in and goes, "OH! Is this the Legendary Girlfriend?"

Brian: "Um, yep!"
Me: "Hi?"
Cora: "Let me tell you. *points to Brian* Sweetest boyfriend ever. He talks about you all the time and he's just so sweet about you I just wanna bottle him up and sell him. *pause* *sees cupcakes* Did the Legendary Girlfriend make cupcakes??"
Brian: "Yeah, you can have some of these ones-- they're mine."

Brian is completely red-faced and flustered by this point (poor boy) and we continue to talk for a while and Cora wanders off to her little cubicle type thing. Then as I'm on my way out I hear, "Legendary Girlfriend, this frosting is great!"

...Bahahahaaa. <3

"I've got a perfect bo-o-o-o-o-dy, but--"

orisghost@gmail.com — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 01:21:23 GMT

So yoga is like the best thing ever.

For whatever reason, I had a screeching headache this afternoon and tried to nap it off, only to discover that nappage (for the first time ever) failed me. Thoroughly depressed by this event, I went to Mom, bitched for a while, then went back to my room and cracked open that "YOGA FOR WOMEN" book that was one of those impulse-buy type things during a B&N shopping spree.

(Said spree also resulted in the game "Literati", which is yet another game to add to my growing collection of English-majory games. In this game, you get a set of vocab words-- some of which are incredibly obscure-- and must make up a story containing as many of them as possible in ninety seconds. And you don't necessarily know the definitions of all the words, so it becomes a strange matter of bluffing. You can call someone out on their misuse of words, and in fact that's the whole point of the game, but having played it through once already with the boy, I've discovered that I must play with someone who is not said boy because I don't want to call him out on bluffs and he doesn't want to call me out on bluffs. Damnation.)

Anyway. Did yoga type things for forty-five minutes or so and feel so completelyyy... awesome. Relaxed. Everywhere. Supremely focused somewhere in the back of my head, near the spot where it connects to my neck. Mmm... Yes.

Also, as a random side note, my creative nonfiction prof really liked my personal essay on my new and uplifting approach to Alzheimer's related things. I was told it read very professionally, like a "real writer", etc. I glowed a little on the inside. Not gonna lie.

Only a matter of whom

orisghost@gmail.com — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 04:22:48 GMT

Got back from the lake about twelve hours ago. MUCH fun was had, especially with cousin Kathy's babies, which never cease to amuse. Meg is crazy grown up (read: approaching first grade) and is thankfully over the majorly self-centered hurdle. And Maron is just unbelievably adorable. I bought the kids some books from B&N and Maron wanted to have me read her one before her nap, but she forgot my name. (This is excusable, as the last time I saw her she was barely toddling around and words were more like... vague, garbled sounds.)

So she asks Kathy, "Can this come with me?" while making flappy motions in my direction and all the adults present were hopelessly silent for about two seconds before bursting out into laughter. It's disgusting how babies make me want to have babies. I would blame the pill, but alas, I fear I've always been this way. Stay back, babies-- or at least, stay back for at least eight more years.

Got an email from the Nolan lady in charge of the education spectrum of my... uh, education. Apparently D.C. is putting out a call for "teacher's aides" at a salary of (PREPARE TO CHUCKLE HEARTILY AT MY EXPENSE) $22,000. Don't tell me it's crap pay, I know. I accepted it some time ago. ~~At least I can make my own clothes, right?~~ On the one hand I feel like this would be an amazing opportunity to be a part of the huge revolution that's starting to take place in D.C. public schools. I mean, that's why I want to teach, right? I want to help kids like that. And I know I can be encouraging and gung-ho and can generate enough spirit for the job, but to be honest I'm petrified of said spirit getting crushed. I'm not naive enough to think every kid can be helped. A third of our high schoolers don't graduate, and it's a safe bet that a lot of that statistic is built by the urban systems like D.C. But I want to help, right? But I also don't want to get mugged/raped/otherwise assaulted or have my dreams crushed at the tender age of twenty.

The other option is to sub for the safe old territory of Fairfax County, arguably one of the best school systems in the nation, thereby giving myself a somewhat warped impression of what teaching will be like anywhere else. Where is the happy medium, I ask?

[Classes start Monday: creative nonfiction and some kind of computer graphics that I'm willing into satisfying my technology requirement. Easier than the last row of summer classes, but still so many hours of my day. Guh. I'll never get any writing done.]

LULZ.

orisghost@gmail.com — Thu, 21 May 2009 00:57:40 GMT

So for Young Adult Lit we're required to break into groups for specific issues in teaching English to teens. Among these was the "Lesbian and Gay Voices" category, which I picked hands down. I should have known that the ridiculously cute and slightly (cutely) butchy girl in our class would be in that group. Our class met up at Borders, we had a little orientation thingy, etc. etc. Apparently this girl knew Kelly as well and awkward introductions commenced:

Carrie: *trying to find a straw*
Kelly: This is Carrie!
Girl: Nice to meet you! (Here is where she said her name, which I have since forgotten, naturally.) Is Carrie short for something?
Carrie: Oh, uh, Carolyn.
Girl: Oh! So you're in my group, right?

Some talk continues, and...

Girl: So where are you from? I mean, I saw you and I thought you were probably from another country or--
Carrie: ._O
Girl: I mean, your face! You've got a really unique face!
Carrie: HUH??
Kelly: It's a compliment, Carrie. *proceeds to laugh head off*
Girl: Yeah, I mean, come on, she's pretty right? I mean you just look differently pretty. Gah, sorry, lesbian tendencies coming out.

My face turned about five different reds before finally settling on purple. It's kind of hysterical how girls can make me so embarrassed, but boys who say things like that just come off as creepy. Still, it's been a crazy long time since any girl has said stuff like that to me. It was nice.

Mm. Dog.

orisghost@gmail.com — Wed, 20 May 2009 14:27:34 GMT

Spider pug, spider pug
does whatever a spider pug does.
Can he swing from a web?
No he can't.
He's a pug.
LOOK OOOUUUTTT!
He is a spider pug!

...More on this later. [Not.]

IIII put on my boooooots and walk alooooong...

orisghost@gmail.com — Mon, 18 May 2009 21:27:42 GMT

LADIES!

Who wants to see UP next Friday? (Which is, I think, the day it comes out.)

Yes?

[Oh, and as far as summer classes go: Soviet Union and Modern Russian History is thusfar pretty cool. It's almost entirely lecture combined with reading two massive historical novels, both of which I can handle quite happily. Education remains to be seen, but Kelly and Liz are both in that class, so it should be sweet. The main question is: can I stay awake?]

Fresh, new, and squeaky-ass clean.

orisghost@gmail.com — Fri, 15 May 2009 20:18:35 GMT

WHOOHOO! UPDATED! Following discovery of gorgeous artwork from "Orange" (which is assigned for my summer class in Young Adult lit), here's a new layout and an update and some hopes that I'll be less lame about LJ-ing. I think I've mostly sucked at it this year because a.) life intruded, and b.) the only things I felt like I had to talk about were either how much Jason sucked or how much Brian rocked. (No, for srs now. I think he's a Disney prince. He's confused himself into having feelings for me, the poor dear.)

Life's better, more eventful, and moving on. Still, the only person I've seen a lot of recently is Miss Connie. I'm sure you're all out there... somewhere.

Tomorrow's the final day at B&N. I'll miss it, but there was no way in hell I was doing summer hellwork along with slaving in the bookstore-- especially now that they've got Emilie doing the schedules now and she enjoys sticking me in uncomfortable situations and fucking up my breaks. WELL NO MORE, I SAY! Substitute teaching will commence in the fall, with fair amounts of luck and hope that I'm not tortured to death, being the inexperienced and naive individual I am.

Still writing that thing I think I mentioned in the last post. Which was made some months ago. (Of course I'm still writing it, what the-- ignore me and my pointless text.) Progress is slow and I'm occasionally under the impression that I suck more than I initially expected. But then I remind myself that Twilight was supposedly a successful series and I'm put right at ease. I might never be that popular, but at least I'll never be that bad.

As a final note, benefit cosmetics are laced with crack (which would explain why they're so addictive) and I need to hang out with more people so as not to become an antisocial recluse this summer. Which is what I did last summer. Actually, yes, pretty much all I did was hang out with Jason last summer. Could I regret it more? I'm not sure. Call/text me, yo.

I see you need me, I know you do

orisghost@gmail.com — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 23:36:21 GMT

"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"...You're only saying that because you know referencing Murakami is going to make me giggly and weak in the knees."
"Yeah, maybe. Did it work?"

IN OTHER NEWS: Teaching is totally my calling. I feel it in my gut when I'm in my Secondary Ed. class/doing homework for said class/growing infuriated with one of my student observation teachers who cannot relate to her students AT ALL. It makes me so damn giddy with excitement and I hope I don't mess it up when it reaches the point where I CAN teach.

Also: I need to make a Japan post. Um, it'll be a month late, but March has been hella busy, so-- not my fault. Much love. Now to respond to posts.

OH. Quick.
Love: Glasvegas. Bad quality, but it's a sweet song on a similarly sweet CD by an equally sweet band. <3

Babb-lez.

orisghost@gmail.com — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 23:29:09 GMT

Stayed up 'til 4am with the boy, woke up at noon, went out to Coastal Flats, and then spent many happy hours playing with Rigel outside Brian's dorm in the huuuge open courtyard there. Damn can that dog run when he's let off the leash. Think cheetah + deer + sheepdog and you've pretty much got it. Then packed some stuff, got in the car with the dog, and proceeded to split a donut with said dog on the way home.

THE MAKINGS OF A GOOD DAY.

Last night we'd run out to get shit to eat from Giant, I got hit in the head with a honeybun, and somehow Brian-- when speaking of the chill-- was quoted as saying "Well, I think my nipples are gonna get pointy..."

And I'm sure you've all seen this before, but I definitely hadn't until last night. READ A BOOK. 'Nuff said.

Cherry Blossom festival on April 4th! So far Brian, Matt, Sasha and I are going. If anyone else is gonna be in town and would be down for it: sweeeeet.

Not much else to say. I just never update and felt the urge to. Eventually I might even get around to posting pictures from Japan!trip of spring break-- which was crafted with love by Win, fyi. But all for now. Oblivion may or may not be calling me, but I'm going to go play it anyway.

Makeuptual Edumification.

orisghost@gmail.com — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 03:46:04 GMT

Carrie: Anyway, I went to the bookstore and bought this bright yellow hoodie and some makeup.
Brian: Fun, fun. Did you get some, uh, stuff for your eyes?
Carrie: Huh?
Brian: *makes vague swirly motions around eyes* Eye... stuff? Shadow? Liner? I don't know the difference.
Carrie: Well, one makes a line, the other makes shadows. Which do you think this is?
Brian: *STARES VERY HARD* ... ... ...
Carrie: ...
Brian: ...Shadow?
Carrie: Good job, sir.

In other news-- writing again. It's about time this thing got out of my head, because having the story locked up in there is really fucking annoying because it's pretty much all I think about. (All of you have felt this way before-- admit ittt.) In the span of the past week, giant women, lonely Mona Lisa, talking fish and literally rolling hills (which make for good nature-friendly modes of transportation) have all worked their way into this thing. I'm afraid if I keep it bottled up any longer, something really scary-- Marilyn Manson scary-- might creep up.

Insert involuntary shudder here.

Kill winter, please.

orisghost@gmail.com — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:40:36 GMT

Really, totally, completely disappointed in certain people for certain events. Think about it.

Wow, loyalty.

BULFINCHweevle.

orisghost@gmail.com — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 19:50:40 GMT

SO! The dorm is sweet. My roommate is from Kenya, around where my mom's old stopping grounds were during her time in the Peace Corps, so that's interesting. Of course, they forced this $1500 meal plan on me which I totally did not want. Now Brian and I are trying to eat through all that money ~~so the fucking university doesn't steal it, the bastard~~ by getting coffee/cocoa way more than necessary. I'm also buying LUNA bars and carrot sticks like no tomorrow because there's nothing else in the convenience store remotely healthy/tasty. Instead, I've taken to stopping by Whole Foods on my way home from work to pick up food I actually like that is also good for me. Nums. Tonight is VEGAN PIZZA TIMES, which is obviously not quite as good for me as tasty salads or whatever else, but I'm crampy so I get what I want.

No, really. Brian snuck an oatmeal cookie into my duffle bag this morning. And I've got four beautiful roses from last week which are magically still beautiful. Kekeke?

THINGS I HAVE DISCOVERED THIS SEMESTER THUS FAR:
- The boy is a good boy, don't lose him.
- Remembering how to draw with pencil and paper and... you know... real media is extraordinarly difficult.
- Almost as difficult as trying to draw from real life. (Again-- and I thought I'd finished that bull when I left Coleman's class...)
- I am not an awesome creative writer. Perhaps my concentration should not be creative writing. Perhaps it should be... British lit. (Suggested by Brian, who admittedly hates the Brits, but started naming off the titles on my bookshelf just to egg me on. "Quest for Arthur's Britain. Arthurian Literature and Legend. Holy War: The Crusades and Their Impact on Today's World. Beowulf. The Book of Merlyn. Approaches to Teaching Arthurian Traditio-- why do you even own that, Carrie?"

I don't know. Maybe I'm just insecure with my writing and would much rather sit around and read about kings and quests all day rather than actually confront the aspects of my writing that make it crappy.

Boop.

orisghost@gmail.com — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 17:36:00 GMT

I haven't posted in a stupidly long time.

So. Basically, I'm getting an A in Spanish thus far-- though this could change, as I now keep forgetting to do the online assignments and still have the final to get through. ...Hm. But I'll at least get a high B+. At least.

Jason is also an absolute asshole and until further notice, I'm not talking to him. He's too much of a cheating, flirting, I'm-going-to-send-sexy-messages-to-strangers-on-facebook-while-feeding-you-bull-about-how-I-still-love-you fucktard to possibly be considered worth my time. He pisses me off. I hope he gets an easily treatable (yet nonetheless humiliating) sexual disease. This might be over the top. It probably is. I really don't mean that last sentence (the STD bit), but I'm still a atomically pissed off. (Can that happen?) I don't know what we're going to do come Thanksgiving break when we all try to have some fun Hunan outage, because if Jason gets within ten feet of me, I think I might punch him.

On the bright side, I'M GOING TO JAPAN OVER SPRING BREAK OMFGWTFBBQROFLMAO. As of now, I will probably be spending my 20th birthday drinking (legally, of course) and having THE BEST TIME EVER with my sister. And Jenn, if you're reading this, we are so TOTALLY going to that Club Marilyn place you talked about (as long as they don't hate foreigners.)

...Anyway.

Dogs + Boy = Good.

Hat in hand.

orisghost@gmail.com — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 09:54:35 GMT

So that spine-tingling "ALL IS LOST" feeling of two days ago wasn't just PMS related after all.

It would appear that it's nearing the eve of another breakup for Jason and me. It hurts more than it did last time, because there was no warning here and because there's this really painful and obvious truth about it that says I can't fix it like I did last time. He says we're too different now, that he still loves me, but that he doesn't see it working out in the long term anymore. I told him we'd work something out and he agreed to it... but if I really had as much hope as I pretend to, the full-body ache would probably be gone by now, like it was last time, back when I knew things could be fixed.

It's just-- once you fix yourself to someone else so fully, how do you... unfix yourself? I haven't kept up with my friends to the degree I should have. I haven't made new friends at GMU at all, really, outside of nice acquaintances and small talk. And now that it looks like I'm losing that perfect, moronic future of mine that I'd planned out with Jason, I don't really have anything left to work for. Yeah. I wanna teach. But I don't feel passionate about it like I did two days ago.

If we're all alloted so many possible people to make our lives with, Jason was one of mine, I think. I'm pretty, fairly certain of that. So now that I've severed myself from my friends, become too boring to hang onto the closest person I've ever had, and don't have much left... Well, fuck. Now what?

[I keep reminding myself there's still hope, that something can be worked out... But eventually--probably today-- I'm going to have to accept it. I wonder what that'll feel like.]

BALLS.

orisghost@gmail.com — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 20:20:06 GMT

It seems like lately-- no matter how hard I try-- everything I make is crap.

Hand towels for sister's trip to Japan. Screwy. And deranged. And lopsided.

Sister's birthday cake. ...Just looking at it makes me want to take a fire hose to it.

AND WORST OF ALL. The Tifa costume. Which looks like HELL and it PISSES me off because I worked so hard. Okay, I was fine with my boots not looking quite right. I wasn't about to spend $200+ on decent looking cowboy boots and these ones I can (and will) use again. Quite happily.

But my hair dye didn't come out as being "multi-faceted black/midnight ruby". IT CAME OUT PURPLE/RED/DARK BROWN.
And my stomach disgusts me and I will cut it off with a chainsaw before the week is out.
And that is not the turquoise belt buckle it is supposed to be-- HELLZZZZ no. That's an owl. Holding some bones in his talons. ...Whatthefuck. Why can't I find a decent set of materials to make a cheapo belt buckle out of. WHY MUST I SUCK SO BAD.

AND MY BACK HURTS SO BAD FROM BENDING OVER THAT COSTUME AT THE SEWING MACHINE AND I'M @()$&%@)*(&$!@)($*@#_%&#$%*(&#@)*$%&@)(#$*#)(%&@)(Y&%)#(. God. Dammit.

We're not even going to talk about my writing/art and how crap that's going, too. I HATE YOU, LIFE. RRRRRRGH.

Naming the thing.

orisghost@gmail.com — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 03:50:30 GMT

Everyone remember that movie/book About a Boy?

In which it was said:
"I wanna be with her more, I wanna be with her all the time, and I wanna tell her things I don't even tell you or mum. And I don't want her to have another boyfriend. I suppose if I could have all those things, I wouldn't really mind if I touched her or not."

What's that called? Jason and were having this large discussion tonight about past things-- not relationships, really, but just important sorts of things that had happened that-- whatever, I don't even know. But both of us have had one of these things, whatever they're called, and I've been trying for an hour now but I can't think of the right name for the thing.

I don't think it could be called a crush because it comes more serious than that in the fact that you really, truly, do feel deeply for someone aside from the airy little "Wouldn't that be nice if that wholly attractive, sweet person took an interest in me?" kind of attitude. But at the same time, it's more innocent than anything near love, because with love comes all that sex business, and this is more of a... you'd like to be able to be with this person, to lie very close to them, even without touching, and talk to them endlessly about absolutely everything. And you would like to consider them yours in that mental way moreso than that physical way.

So in between 'crush' and 'love' lies this thing, and I'd just like a name for it and if anyone knows what it is-- if I'm being completely stupid and there really is a commonly used term for the thing out there-- WHAT IS IT? ('Puppy love' = pathetic. This thing = not so much so. Predicament?)

Body Image.

orisghost@gmail.com — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 00:58:22 GMT

Raw Foods Diet?

1) Don't eat anything that contains ingredients you can't pronounce and/or don't know what they are.
2) Use fresh and organic things, meaning no preservatives and happier digestion.
3) Replace your cow milks with nut milks, which humans can digest better.
4) Eat your foods in groups so your stomach can effectively digest an entire meal and leave little waste behind.
5) Replace your chocolates ("I CAN STILL HAS CHOCOLATES?!?!") with 70% or higher cocoa content stuff. (Which leaves behind this amazing aftertaste similar to raisins and... deliciousness.)

It's surprisingly not that difficult. And either it's effective or my weight has just redistributed itself, but either way, SIZE FOUR PANTS!!

Tomorrow, I think, will be spent in the backyard. With some tunes and some sunblock.
...And my one-piece swimsuit, which is the only thing I'll ever feel comfortable in.

Oh well. I shed no tears!

[I really want to make that goddamn comic... Restraint, restraint, restraint... But I have to be productive somehow...]

Simple like a motorcycle ride.

orisghost@gmail.com — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 02:08:42 GMT

All ladies wanting to see The Fall tomorrow...

How's a 4:35 showing sound? If anyone needs/wants a ride, I can give one, and if anyone wants to go out for dinner/coffee/etc. first/aftewards, we can do that, too. It's up in Reston, but super easy to find if you just wanna drive yourself.

Lemmeeee knowwwww who's a-goin' so I don't go bopping around the mall by myself!

...Oh, and because everyone was exchanging near-death tornado tales earlier, here's mine.

[Jason & Carrie: *in Carrie's mini-van*]
Carrie: Good-golly-gee-whiz, the sky's a-gettin' dark there.
Jason: No worries! Tornadoes only happen when the sky turns green! I watch the Discovery Channel!
Sky: *I ARE GREEN!*
Jason: Cool.
Carrie: OMFG WHY WON'T THIS LIGHT TURN GREEN I DON'T WANT TO DIE IN A CAR WITH YOU AND WHY IS THE WIND BLOWING SO HARD HOLY FUCK A TREE JUST ALMOST FELL ON THAT CAR IS THAT GUY OKAY WHY IS HE GETTING OUTSIDE OMFG RUN YOU MOTHERFUCKER I CAN'T SEE IT'S RAINING TOO HARD webettergohideinLakeBraddocknow.

And so we did. The end.

[I also beat a video game-- Persona3-- and got horridly depressed as soon as I made sense of the ending, which took, oh, thirty seconds. I also want to buy a motorcycle.]

"I like Lou Reed," she said, sticking her tongue in my ear.

orisghost@gmail.com — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 03:13:03 GMT

If anyone wants to go see The Fall this week/next week/EVER, I am so game for it again. I will even haul us all up to Reston, as... that's pretty much the nearest place it's playing. But damn is it worth it. So mind-numbingly unique and just absolutely gorgeous in every respect. Wharharhar.

On that note...

There's a new Apple store open in Fair Oaks, and during one of many mall adventures, I happened to prance on into this brand new store (after getting some wicked good chai from Teavana nearby) and buy yet another art program for my baby. For whatever reason, I felt the need to invest in this idiotic looking comic-making program, if for no other reason than because it had some pretty fine tones and capabilities, etc. Only problem is, I haven't done hardcore tablet drawing-- Illustrator doesn't count-- in over a year, seeing as I did absolutely no CG stuff this past year and focused entirely on Adobe Illustrator during senior year.

I guess realizing this makes my craptastic end products somewhat more tolerable. And by 'somewhat more tolerable', what I'm really saying is 'not at all tolerable-- I'm an epic failure and can't draw stick folk' but at least I'm honest with myself.

So let's halftone it up in chronological order.

Masterful Chef Booboo, the first fully "finished" thing I made in this new program, complete with THE WORST BACKGROUND THAT HAS NEVER CALLED ITSELF A BACKGROUND ijustranoutofideasandgottiredoflookingatherbuggyeyes.

Lineart, and a return to my first true love: hair.

Because I-- like so many of us-- have had dreams of lifting my artistic leg and leaving my imprint on the interwebs for now and ever in the form of the ever popular webcomic. Which will so never happen it's pretty hilarious. (BOOBS, fyi.)

And a face. The end.
[EDIT: WHOA, THAT IS A HUGE HEAD. SORRY ABOUT THAT, KIDS. TOO BAD I'M TOO LAZY TO EDIT THAT SUCKER.]

I have a headache, but I also have some news for you. Mangino's pizzas = tres bien, and they're only $5.99 on Mondays, so if you feel like clogging your arteries (which I myself often get the desire to do), you should invest in one. Because they use real fine cheese, it fills you up super fast, so you'll just have pizza leftovers for days to come.

Long day of work tomorrow. I hope they don't put me at customer service for the 10432792th day in a row. If I get another man coming in asking for a CD/DVD recording of Pope John Paul's funeral-- containing the music they sang exactly while his body was being carried out-- oh and by the by, I'm not even Catholic and ARE YOU TRYING TO GET RID OF ME, why, no sir, I'm really just trying to help you, so why don't you take this quill pen and kindly shove it up your ass so you can sing Latin hymns to yourself, if you'd like.

...Anyway. Nnnnthat's about it.