It's a Great Day for Baseball


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Thursday, August 14, 2003

When I grow up, I want to live in a big city. One, in particular.

And, well, I just think it's sort of funny that no one in said city can read this right now, because they have no power.

I guess that it could be an omen trying to drive me away from an unattainable dream...But I'll just be positive about the fact that the government's vast conspiratory agency decided to get their Once-Every-Twenty-Five-Year-Citywide-Blackout out of the way before I moved in. It makes my life a lot easier.

Tuesday, August 12, 2003

I have hands that smell like balsamic vinegar.

I spilled a bunch while making dinner today.

I smell like I've congealed into a sour mass of rotten Jaclyn.


I almot cried today because of stress. It's the second day of school.

I slept through potential chill time this afternoon with a cool guy.

He's so cool that he said all was good, and that sleeping is important.


I'm not taking health anymore. Do a dance in my favor.


If you misspell "dance" while typing, you could type "dacne." That looks like "acne." In French, "D'acne" would mean "of the acne." I think I've come across a novel concept. I could make millions in "D'acne" perfume. Or zit remover.

I'm writing an essay about writing essays for a class in which I will write essays until I can write no more. Right!

I love Changing Hands. I hate the word "foodstuffs."

Josh Groban has the best-looking big nose I've ever seen.

My pants remind me of The Matrix. Not because they are skin-tight leather, but because the pattern of the denim reminds me of the computer screen where all the little green characters flash down in columns. I have column-y pants.


(rereading the entry...) W.o.w. Sleep time.

Monday, August 11, 2003

The thing that sucks about wanting to look uber cute for the first day of school is actually trying to look uber cute.

The hair, the makeup, the cute skirt, the cute shirt, the pedicure, the happy purse, the strand of pearls, the strappy many cute accessories, so little just becomes so incredibly blase. (OFFICIAL BOURGEOIS MOMENT!)

That is why I'll probably look like poo for the rest of the year. I guarantee it, like the creepy guy on the Men's Wearhouse commercials. Except he's guaranteeing that you'll like the way you look, whereas I'm guaranteeing the opposite. I just absolutely love comparing andd contrasting, don't you??

I best learn to love it because that's all I'm doing this year in Advanced Comp. Writing weird essay crap is not my strong suit. I heart poetry, not research papers. Mr. Meyer seems like a cool dude nonetheless. He's very tall...tall people scare me...whatever.

"BOO!" said the short person.
"Haha," I said.
"Boo." said really tall guy.
"AAAAH!" I screamed as I ran down the corridor.

(The above is a stellar example of why I should be taking Creative Writing instead.)

This post is filled with random snippets of my day. Here are some more.

More Random Snippets
Life Lesson #1: Never. Ever. Sit. Through. Health. Class. If. Your. Life. Depends. On. It.

Diagonal lunch seating. What's up with that? (SEINFELD MOMENT)

Economics = boring. That's why I'm going to become so rich that I'll have other people deal with my money for me. Wait...

I've never heard the word "Fag" used so abundantly as when I was seated next to that Bryson kid in academic lab.

Some Chris Harbster imitation resides in Adv. Comp. Gross.

YAY! REHEARSAL! (ithinki'mgrowingintomyhugepantsisthatbad?)

Lunch is too short. Too.

I'll be getting my Advanced Studies class back shortly, as it was rudely stolen by Mrs. Slemmer and her guidance minions. GRRR.

Only thirty five weeks and four days of school left before graduation!!! :-D

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