jn3



--------------- [blue writing pen] Due to the lack of motivation, I have not written in the past couple days. But I did spend / waste my time making new layouts for my future website. I really truly hate this tripod website, so I've been creating different ideas for a new one. I have to use a crappy free host again, because I cannot afford to pay for a really cool website (I'm just that cheap! Hahahahahaha). Hopefully, I'll have a new website up and running online. --------------- [black pen] Ugh. A headache has settled in. How unpleasant it is to have to stare at a computer screen when one side of you brain feels like it's going to pull apart. Wellll-p ... I just got back from 6 straight hours of laser tag. Tim lost $80, and we think this little idiot kid Mike stole it. Mike's a loser, and we all hate him. He's sneaky, and when he asked why we were taking a break from playing, Tim said we're looking for my money! Mike replied "I don't give a crap about your money man, I want to play LASER TAG!!". That caused anger in nearly every team member there, and to tell the truth, I do not blame them. I do not care for Mike either. Anyhow, the best place I ever came in was 3rd. Maybe better, I didn't look at the scores for like 5 rounds. I played the role of Sniper / Captain, shouting out orders alongside Russ. I agree with Phil. He said us older guys should go out to a club some night and play some pool or something, leaving the younger guys with adults to go see a movie. I dislike being considered a "guy", although Jessy seemed not to mind so much (she felt that she was finally being accepted into a group, I suppose). Well ... that'd still be fun in my opinion. We're all insane! We're all pathetic as well ... none as pathetic as me, but almost close! Whoops! Dad is telling me to be a less self-depricating and be a little more cheerful. I hate it when I'm writing and I don't realize that someone is DIRECTLY behind me (even casting an enormous shadow across the book). I especially dislike it when I receive criticism in return. Urrrrrrr. Well ... I can't help it if I am hard on myself. Someone has to be ... right? Hmmm. Maybe I should get a dictionary while I am at it. Actually, I usually have quite decent spelling skills, but I have not yet checked out the awesome abilities of the "amazingly remarkable erasable pens". Urrrrr. My friend Jessy spent nearly half of a precious hour simply chattering about how astonishing these erasable pens are (she discovered this product at a local Office Supply store and, based on pieces of the conversation I actually tuned in to listen to, she seemed to be stopped right in her tracks my this "clever" invention). ((* Depricating = Deprecating )). Whoopdi-freakin-do. Look ... look how utterly pathetic I TRULY am! I am talking ENDLESSLY about my incredibly wretched spelling ability! Blah. I'm nearly as horrible as Jessy herself ... in the sense that I'm writing about. I hate that. I hate it when I realize I'm being quite hypocritical by putting someone else down for something I do ... and do quite often. But you see ... you'd think I'd feel bad for putting all this effort into badmouthing my dearest friend (one of the few who has not been driven away by my obnoxious habits), but she said it was fine that I write about her. Infact, I will add a quote that she said in response to the idea: "Actually ... I'm not pissed that you want to gripe about me talking on and on about these pens ... they're so cool, I want ALL to learn about them!!". Heh-you see, the "..." I added was cutting through a lot of mumbling and uninteresting babble. Near the end though, the tone in her voice started sounding like a sales person's attitude, so it caused me to laugh. It's like 2 AM and I'm tired, so I think I'll go to bed now. Can't wait to (sigh) go shoe shopping tomorrow with my mom. Gosh, this is going be a hoot. You really should spend a single day shopping with my mother. Dear god, someone shoot me in the head (Jessy bounds from NOWHERE with a massive smile on her face). See ya on the dark side of the moon. --------------- [Blue writing pen] 2 days 'til Thanksgiving, in counting. Toby and I went out. It's kinda fun now because I kinda like Toby, but we are not officially "going out" yet. It's such fun. He's one of the only people who my mom actually trusts me to travel with alone ... he's just that responsible! (laughs uncontrollably) Toby just bought a pretty nice used Honda! He loves it so much. Ok, so we headed for Best Buy and Circuit City. We dined in at the lovely Taco Bell (we had coupons, of course). Then, we headed to Meijer. Something sparked the novel idea of getting an Ouija Board. Toby insisted that they only sell them at Toys R Us (due to the "controversy" of the "game". I knew better ... it's Meijer, "A million reasons, a single store" yo. They had a spot for it, but they were all sold out, so we headed off to the Meijer in Carrolton. As we get into the parking lot, a car pulls up next to us, and we see it's Will's Mom! Ha, we waved like psycho people. She merely smiled at the window. I don't think she even knew who we were. Oh well! So we went in, got the board, and thus proceeded, quickly, homeward (my home, since my mom strictly enforced the arriving time). At first it didn't seem to work. Now I'm all for the thing (I believe in it as much as you can, and I'm not too sure about Toby) but we just couldn't get it to speak anything but gibberish. So on our last attempt, we finally got one. Some guy who noticed the item tucked under Toby's arm as we waited in line had totally freaked him out, so I think he might have possibly been frightened at this. "Chels ... that's enough of this shit. I'm ready to quit, aren't you?", and then the cursor went to "yes", then to "goodbye". Messed with Toby some more. Hahahahahaha. Good times ... good times. --------------- [red grading pen] Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I hate Thanksgiving. (Hate is underlined in thick, black pen). My mom's always in a shit mood because she has to cook all day before the actual "occasion" (or at least she uses that as an excuse), and my dad's all gripey cause he has to finish the piles of work that he's NOT going to be doing during the "day of thanks". Thanksgiving is good, however, because it's the one holiday that you can completely pig out with no one caring about your appearance what-so-ever. Mom takes it as a weak complement (meaning that you are enjoying her food that took her a great time to prepare), and dad is watching Football (meaning he doesn't put effort into yelling about "acceptable manors" and what not). I always sleep all afternoon after the gigantic Thanksgiving feast as well, so I'm looking forward to that. You see ... I am trying to be as positive as possible around an up-and-coming holiday. Ok, a lot of my friends keep asking me questions about Toby, such as: "Are you two related?" "How come you two are nearly inseparable?" "Are you two like fucking all the time or something?" "When are you going to just ASK HIM OUT???". It seriously goes on like that. I got enough questions to cause me to write part of my post addressing these many questions. Toby is my absolute best friend. Toby is: Caring, Prying, Funny, strange, and intelligent. He is incredibly creative, from his drawings to his mere suggestions of things to do during free time. Yes ... I do spend great amounts of time with Toby. He's LIKE a brother to me, but not in the related biological sense. I've known Toby for quite a few years, and immediately when we first started talking, we knew we were meant to be best friends forever. Ok ... that covers the first two questions. About two or three people have asked me personal questions about me and Toby (and whether or not we were doin' ... stuff). Heh ... ok ... if you've never met Toby before, then you might be laughing about that. Toby is very adorable ... appearance wise as well. We have kissed a couple of times, but nothing serious yet. We aren't even technically a couple (as I've said before). --------------- [thick red marker] URRRRRRR!!!!! I HATE THANKSGIVING!!! Ok ... you wanna know what happened Thanksgiving Day? I'll FREAKIN TELL YA what happened! Ok ... it's 12:30 and I'm hungry. Mom's almost done with the food, and she's putting in on the dinning room table. We're all in out seats. I'm SERIOUS! We were all sitting around the table. Right when my mom opens up the metal top for the Turkey and releases the wonderful turkey smell into the room, the doorbell rings. It was like scripted timming! We have this weird, screwed up doorbell that sounds like a high pitched bird getting run over by the ice cream truck (we've been ... meaning to get that fixed, but like so many issues at in our household, they are often postponed by something "more important"). The doorbell screeches. My dad looks up sharply ... and expectantly. He answers the door and my uncle Jim bursts through the door in an animated style and gazes around the entrance humorously. His new, young, and blond girlfriend (Pam), and my cousin, enter our house. It all just ... happened too fast. I'm sitting there, hesitantly. I'm thinking that I'm hallucinating due to lack of food, so I reach for the turkey. My mom slaps my arm, never removing her eyes from my dad. I dropped the food and stared at my empty plate. Ok ... Thanksgiving is always a family holiday where we pig out and eat as much as we can (and my family, I mean simply our small Anderson clan of four) and usually I sleep all the rest of the holiday afternoon. I could see that, for once, the tradition was being changed ... and by my dad. My mom was furious. Although she smiled, her emotions were transparent to me. Silent fury is the worst form. So after the guests talk for what seems like an eternity, they take their seats and begin slowly lifting the Turkey bits with their forks. I sit there and slowly reach for my fork, trying to emulate their clean, fancy gesture. My mom must have thought I was making fun of them, for she stabbed me in the ribs with her elbow from under the table as I was scooping up my final piece. I glared at the cold meat, and pulled it apart with my fingers. Suddenly, my mom smacked me on the arm and grunted, "no eating with fingers" quietly. I was sick of this by now, so I just scooped up a big chunk of meat in my hand and chomped into it, making a hideously loud, chomping noise. I could hear the grinding grunting growl coming from my mom, but I listened no longer! After I cleared my plate and my sister's plate, I went upstairs to sleep. When I got to the game room, I was instructed by my dad to entertain my cousin for the afternoon (until my uncle decided to leave). I turned on the television, and every channel I came to was "too boring" ... or "too stupid" to my cousin. He wouldn't watch cartoons because they weren't "on his intelligence level" and he wouldn't watch news shows because they were "terribly uninteresting". I left the television on the Discovery Channel and stomped from the room, grouchily. After the guests left at around 6:00, I had already attached myself to the chair across from the intensely blinding computer screen. My mom stormed in and began to gripe at me furiously. To me, it seemed to come out of nowhere, so I griped back. Then, she started talking about how incredibly embarrassing I was at the table, and I remembered. "Why? Why must you constantly be a walking embarrassment on our family? People see you, they look at you and see you as a representation of our family! Why--why did you eat with your fingers? Why did you pick up the food with your fingers?" she whined weakly. I thought about how stupid the question sounded, and I actually responded with this: "Because I felt like it." I guess maybe that was a mistake, but after I said it, I had to turn the Swivel chair around to keep from laughing. I could tell she was still staring at me. Then, she did that ... that THING ... that I hate so much. She started the whole crying thing ... and the whole sound effects and mumbling sniffing and all. She started all of that, and said "You! You turn around and LOOK AT ME!". I spun the chair around, looked at her face, heard myself saying "Because I felt like it!" and just laughed! I LAUGHED!!! I could not help it! She stormed out of the room, sniffing and all, and I covered my red face, trying to soften the sound. When I got to my room, I stood there ... not believing that I had actually said what I said. I actually felt somewhat proud of myself for responding in such a tone, and I fell on my bed and laughed at it all! (I doodled Gobbles the Retarded Thanksgiving Turkey from South Park on the top of the page to keep with the mood of the Holiday) --------------- [black, sloppy marker] The aftermath of the catastrophe left the girl a muttering, babbling wreck. Unable to function, glazed and lost in a world destined to never be. Lost in forever and caught up in never. And now that my soul has finished screaming, it wants to pull off my flesh off. I feel like I am being pulled into two directions. One: To keep on the path; to stay where I am and fulfill my obligations. The other is to leave. Leave it all and start over. But would I regret that more than I already regret my life? And how many people would I hurt? I wanted to just keep walking this morning ... to never stop and abandon everything with it. --------------- I have a mental image of myself--I think everyone does. Only problem is ... I look in the mirror and what I see is so different, it is a complete shock. I look in the mirror and what I see--the face looking back--it doesn't match a bit. Sometimes, it's like looking at a stranger ... only ... I understand the pain I see deep in the eyes, and I have to realize it's me. --------------- [orange thin marker] Truth #1: Yes, hate is a very strong word Truth #2: Hate is the easiest thing in the world to feel. Love takes time to find and maintain, sadness needs caring for, and anger vanishes too quickly. Hate, pure and unadulterated, can last a lifetime. Contrary to popular belief, and all that hippie mumbo-jumbo, the world is NOT a beautiful place, love is NOT free, and happiness is NOT a fish that you can catch. The world is an intolerant place, filled with people who would rather kill others rather than accept that people may hold views and beliefs other than their own. But ... see ... although hate is the easiest thing in the world to feel, I am completely incapable of telling a living human that I ... "hate them". I cannot. --------------- [dull pencil] I feel so alone. I wander from class to class by myself, although the halls are crowded with pushing people (all motions seeming of evil intent entirely). I find the classes, but do not find a friendly face that I recognize as a mere acquaintance in a single one. The teachers might possibly be nice, but I'm in no mood to view them as decent individual educators. It's sad, really. I blocked out all and focused on my precious agenda. Oh how I love that agenda. It is covered in album covers from Our Lady Peace (the oldest ones on the front, considering that I adore their older material greater than the new). I am so lonely. I feel so alone. [Orange Marker] Oh so sorry for the previous remarks and harsh outlook. I am much less critical now. It is the first day of the new trimester, and so things can tend to be hellish for me. Toby is switching to a private school in about a week. He's leaving. I am going to miss his ever-growing number of jackass moments, his vast supply of student insults and comebacks, and his cold and indifferent views of the school authority as well as stereotyping and pop culture. He is ... so much like me in so many ways. But HEY ... it's not like he's actually moving away! I'll still see him as much! I mean ... I'm sure we'll still be best friends. Sure as sure can b--but wait! What if he likes the new school (unlike what he assured me his opinion would remain). What if--hmmmm. Best not to think about that I suppose. My hand is hurting from all the writing I had to do today. Blah. I must go now. Farewell. --------------- [blue thin marker] I just bought a Vanilla Coke from the crappy school vending machines, and it's warm. Blah! My homework for tonight: 1.) Memorize the Pledge of Allegiance for Spanish class (And the purpose of this is ... ?) 2.) Finish writing the cruddy sentences I came up with for Language class yesterday 3.) Re-write the sloppy notes for Geometry that I did not attempt to make presentable while printing the first time 4.) Reframe my attitude. School's so horrible. I think next time we need to form a B group and start the practice OVER again (People in my Bio class know what I'm talking about). I could swear I heard my own death gurgle. Death by boredom ... what a way to go. I thought this would be easier. I'm not sure where I want this to go. Anyways ... today, Toby gave me a hug. No ordinary hug--NO! I get those every day from him, so that wouldn't be so gigantically newsworthy. It was a serious hug. A SERIOUS HUG ... from TOBY! Ahhck. It scared me. He told me, while hugging me, the exact day that he would be meeting new people, viewing new information forms, and entering new doors. Friday. Not this Friday, or even the Friday after that (thank Godosius), but a strange date indeed. Friday ... THE 13th!!! Sheesh. Depressing topic. Moving riiiiight along. I made new friends today, and realized that there are some people that I do know in my classes: [Geometry: Luigi and Luis] [Language: Nola, Adrienne, and James] [World History: Hannah, Stewey, Ryan, and Preston] --------------- [black, sloppy marker] That's it! I call the act of being grounded at my house: Demarcation of Equality!!! It's finally Friday though. Yay. I'm sitting in World History right now, and Mr. Garrett (my World History teacher) is rambling about something that is in NO WAY relevant to the major Power Point project that he has assigned to us to be due on the 11th of December. Wow. I can't believe it's already December. Time flies when you're BORED AS HELL IN MR.GARRETT'S CLASS. This year has been SO FREAKIN BORING! Blah. When I was in photojournalism 1st tri, Michael (the infamous Bush fan who sat next to me during the dreadfully long minutes remaining at the end of the class each day) knew of a website. This website was utterly hilarious, but I never could get the address right. He would read it out loud, but I would continuously misspell it in some way. Well, a few weeks back, I noticed that the address was under Matt's profile, so I visited it (FINALLY!!!). Today, I was cleaning out the notes from my precious agenda when I found where I had scribbled down the address from the profile earlier. http://maddox.xmission.com I finally compared the correct address with the others and found that I would misspell "Maddox" with "Mattix", and it kinda made me laugh weakly. It seriously took me weeks to finally get the address, and it WASN'T EVEN ME who figured it out. Sheeeesh!