I love Gabby. I no longer hate her. I mean, deep down, I hate her, but on the surface I simply love her. And I'm also very touched by Andrew's and Sophia's reactions to her comment about me.
I'm getting this from Sophia, not the most accurate source (just kidding, babe). Apparently, they're all chatting, and Gabby goes, "And CC's such an ugly dyke." Sophia: "Excuse me?" Gabby: "What?" Sophia: "Screw you, she's my friend." Andrew: "Yeah, you don't insult a drummer." Roar, Gabby, roar. I may love you, but my friends don't like you. In fact, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I don't think anybody does. I think everybody pretty much hates you. My sympathies. Leave an angry anonymous comment about my supposed homosexuality. I'm sure it'll make you feel better and make people love you. Love you. Ciao. Going to go back to my post now. You're not quite important enough to occupy me for very long.
About the five-cat mishap, Corinne very kindly pointed out that I only have four cats. She's right, I'm wrong. Trouble, Callie, Moon, Ashley. I think that's it at least... I have a gnawing feeling that I have another cat, but I can't think of it right now.
"More Than Anything" by Hanson. It's our song. Our = Cori and I. At least I think it is and Cori tries to get away from my death grip. As she's learned, when my arms are around something, they just don't let go. Totally not something I can control.
I'm really upset. The lead singer of Say Anything isn't that hot. In fact, he's quite the opposite. But whatever. I still think the songs are the best I've ever heard in my entire life. And who I am I to judge him, eh? I'm pretty judgemental... but I don't really care if people judge me. It doesn't affect me, does it? I think it's pretty amusing. I think I've already posted this.
So we had a lacrosse game yesterday. I'm really upset. I played so badly. Ali C. was in goal, and she had to tell me to defend her better. I was playing point, and Rose was playing third man, and she asked if I wanted to switch because I "looked confused". I don't know what was wrong with me. I just couldn't play well for some reason. And we lost by six points, 14-8 in favor of the other team. It was their Lacrosse Day, and for some reason we got t-shirts. They suck. At least our tees are cool. Jeez.
After the game, the Danielles and I went to get Domino's and went to see "Stick It". I wanted to eat at Staples at one of the desks, but Danielle H. made us sit on the stairs outside the nail place, so I had fun anyway and pretended we were homeless. Cinna stix = good. Pizza = good. All around goodness.
"Stick It" was a pretty awesome movie. I mean, the guys were totally hot. Her little friends. And the skater guys were hot, too, but not quite as hot because you didn't get to know them. And the girl was really talented. It was crazy. And she's incredibly pretty. And it's totally cool, the ending.
See how excited I get? Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
Today was a good day. I had ice cream and Dad came over. He acted semi-normal and there were no big fights, thankfully. We played badminton and I totally beat his ass. Or I tried to. I'm getting ready for camp so I can beat everybody and amaze them with my incredible skills. What song is this? Oh, "Virginia Moon" by Foo Fighters. I didn't recognize it.
My mormor in Sweden sent me $200 so I could get some stuff that was in my bag when it was stolen. (By the way, in Swedish, mormor literally means mothermother.) It was really my fault that it got stolen, but I'm still allowed to be pissed, right? So with the $200 that AmEx gave us and the $200 from Mormor, I can totally get a new iPod. Do they still sell the kind I had? I really don't want a new one. I want to be the last one to have an old-school iPod. Nick's is really old-school, though. It doesn't even have a click-wheel. I think I've posted this, before, too.
Who actually reads entire posts? I'm really just doing this for myself. Hrm.
Oh, by the way, real diamonds can be made from peanut butter.
Just thought you should know. For all those guys out there, diamonds = peanut butter, so peanut butter = girl's best friend. Definitely true for me. I don't know anybody else.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Patrick's Post
Okay, I'm freezing because I just ran out of the shower (without shaving, mind you), ran into my room (without drying off, mind you), and am sitting here wet as a dog while the upstairs is a mere 60 degrees Fahrenheit. I mean, frigging brrr!!!
Patrick demanded that I post by 9:00pm, so here I am at 8:45, writing this. Damn you, Patrick, and your purple hat. I'll pass the time by listing nicknames:
Patrick: Betty Spaghetti
Danny: Candy, until I can think of a better one
Nick: Hunky Hot Stuff
Alicia: Hottie with a Body
Corinne: Ginger, until I can think of a better one
Sophia: Bambi Big Ones
And that's pretty much it. I'll keep updating it, I guess. Check my AIM profile for sooner updates.
Here you go, Patrick. Here you friggin go. Hello, pneumonia.
Patrick demanded that I post by 9:00pm, so here I am at 8:45, writing this. Damn you, Patrick, and your purple hat. I'll pass the time by listing nicknames:
Patrick: Betty Spaghetti
Danny: Candy, until I can think of a better one
Nick: Hunky Hot Stuff
Alicia: Hottie with a Body
Corinne: Ginger, until I can think of a better one
Sophia: Bambi Big Ones
And that's pretty much it. I'll keep updating it, I guess. Check my AIM profile for sooner updates.
Here you go, Patrick. Here you friggin go. Hello, pneumonia.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Boarding School
I should be doing either my DBQ for social studies, or my English research project, but I just can't get this off my mind.
My mom and I were in the car earlier today, and we drove past Friend's Academy and Mom's like, "Maybe I'll send you to Friend's next year." I, of course, vehemently protested against this, and added as an after-thought, "I wouldn't mind going to boarding school, though," and now I can't get it off my mind.
Mom actually took it seriously and started talking with me about it, and now that I know it's actually an option I'm kind of freaking out. I mean, I know I'm probably just going to end up coming back to our school next year, but I feel like if I do I'll be missing out on something.
This is so annoying!!! I wish it had never come up. I actually have to make a decision instead of just assuming I'm coming back here. This is really hard. And freaky. And it seems unreal. Is this a dream?
I think I should go through the decision-making process we learned in Computer.
My mom and I were in the car earlier today, and we drove past Friend's Academy and Mom's like, "Maybe I'll send you to Friend's next year." I, of course, vehemently protested against this, and added as an after-thought, "I wouldn't mind going to boarding school, though," and now I can't get it off my mind.
Mom actually took it seriously and started talking with me about it, and now that I know it's actually an option I'm kind of freaking out. I mean, I know I'm probably just going to end up coming back to our school next year, but I feel like if I do I'll be missing out on something.
This is so annoying!!! I wish it had never come up. I actually have to make a decision instead of just assuming I'm coming back here. This is really hard. And freaky. And it seems unreal. Is this a dream?
I think I should go through the decision-making process we learned in Computer.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Lacrosse
I'm so worried about Nick. We went to go see his lacrosse game today, which wasn't a problem since we went to the city yesterday, and he came to our house afterward and we had to drive him back anyway.
It was pouring rain, about 35 degrees out, and we were all huddled in the press box (by the way, they have really nice fields at Fairfield), and Nick didn't play the entire game. He missed a few practices and a game, I think, while he was in Mexico with Jen visiting Jenny (his grandmother), but, honestly, is that his fault? So Jen's going to buy tickets to Mexico and Nick will tell her, "Nope, can't go, I've got practice"?
So he was just standing out there in his shorts and short sleeves, and they're not even allowed to wear sweatshirts, so he's freezing his ass off even more than we are even in the press box. In the second quarter, he went in for about 26 seconds, but that's it.
Fairfield lost by, what, 13 points?
So we go into the little garage-y type thing where all the hot varsity guys are huddled listening to their coach, and after the post-game speech is over Nick comes over to us shaking from the cold. His face was literally blue. He can barely talk, but tells us that the coach wants him to stay for the JV game that was right after the varsity game. He's soaking wet, freezing, and his coach wouldn't even let him go home and warm up before the game.
He and Jen argue, of course. I still don't see why she made him go. He's going to get sick for sure. He gave us hugs before he ran out onto the field to warm up. The coach promised he'd get to play in the JV game, and Nick did get to play, and Fairfield won, but, honestly. Was it worth it?
Anyway, when we were in the city, it was just Nick, Steve, and I hanging out, and it was really nice. We went to the car show, and the Jeep exhibit was SO cool. It didn't seem real, the incline that those cars could go up. The traction!!! It was insane. They were the only ones with a practical thing (Camp Jeep, they called it) but I found my dream car. A Saab. Old-looking and bright orange. I loved it.
And the guys were drooling over all the cars, of course. There was this HUGE concept car called the Super Chief. I forget who it was by, but I hope it NEVER goes on the market. It would eat gas stations, and completely destroy the environment. I wanted to key it, and then petition to the manufacturers to destroy all of the plans for it. It was THAT bad. Even the guys didn't like it.
We took a cab to Washington Square Park and looked for this Brazilian place, Barbados, that Johnny (Nick's uncle) had taken Steve and Nick to, but we couldn't find it. It was supposedly on Elizabeth Street, but it's a fairly short street, and we didn't find it. First, though, we had drinks at Epistrophy, which is an incredibly cool place. Jen met us there. The last time we'd seen her was at The Market Cafe for lunch, so she was already all dolled up and beautiful for the surprise party she was goinf to for her friend Lisa. Nick was running around frantically to Paul Frank and all these places trying to find a card for Lisa, but ended up struggling to get ballpoint pen to show up on a postcard at Epistrophy.
We ended up just getting dumplings, a nice little appetizer, at The Kitchen Club, a great place that we all love. Walking home, we saw the funniest flyer for a lost lighter, and it had a website that I went to, and it's actually pretty amusing. Here, http://www.ilostmylighter.com. Dana's the one that created it. Check it out.
Then we went outside when we got home and played idiotball, adding to the injuries I amassed Thursday night (either that or Wednesday night) when we had Tom, Paul, Erica, Maggie, Mike, Dane, Hayden, and some other folks I don't really remember over. We went swimming again, like me and Sophia did last weekend, brrrr. Paul tied his shirt up in a knot, stuffed two apples down his shirt, and placed a blonde wig on his closely cut hair. Then we taught him to model walk. It was great.
We got the drumset fixed up, huzzah. I'm spending practically every free moment in there (the garage where the set is). The guy at The Drum Center didn't charge us for fixing the sutff huzzah. He put a clutch on the hi-hat, gave us some screwsf or the bass drum, gave us a key for the snare
Okay, the lag on my computer is pissing me loff. I'm sorry if this stuff is spelt very wrong or whatev. I have to go. It's so annoying, I can't even see what I'm writing.
R.I.P. Goober
It was pouring rain, about 35 degrees out, and we were all huddled in the press box (by the way, they have really nice fields at Fairfield), and Nick didn't play the entire game. He missed a few practices and a game, I think, while he was in Mexico with Jen visiting Jenny (his grandmother), but, honestly, is that his fault? So Jen's going to buy tickets to Mexico and Nick will tell her, "Nope, can't go, I've got practice"?
So he was just standing out there in his shorts and short sleeves, and they're not even allowed to wear sweatshirts, so he's freezing his ass off even more than we are even in the press box. In the second quarter, he went in for about 26 seconds, but that's it.
Fairfield lost by, what, 13 points?
So we go into the little garage-y type thing where all the hot varsity guys are huddled listening to their coach, and after the post-game speech is over Nick comes over to us shaking from the cold. His face was literally blue. He can barely talk, but tells us that the coach wants him to stay for the JV game that was right after the varsity game. He's soaking wet, freezing, and his coach wouldn't even let him go home and warm up before the game.
He and Jen argue, of course. I still don't see why she made him go. He's going to get sick for sure. He gave us hugs before he ran out onto the field to warm up. The coach promised he'd get to play in the JV game, and Nick did get to play, and Fairfield won, but, honestly. Was it worth it?
Anyway, when we were in the city, it was just Nick, Steve, and I hanging out, and it was really nice. We went to the car show, and the Jeep exhibit was SO cool. It didn't seem real, the incline that those cars could go up. The traction!!! It was insane. They were the only ones with a practical thing (Camp Jeep, they called it) but I found my dream car. A Saab. Old-looking and bright orange. I loved it.
And the guys were drooling over all the cars, of course. There was this HUGE concept car called the Super Chief. I forget who it was by, but I hope it NEVER goes on the market. It would eat gas stations, and completely destroy the environment. I wanted to key it, and then petition to the manufacturers to destroy all of the plans for it. It was THAT bad. Even the guys didn't like it.
We took a cab to Washington Square Park and looked for this Brazilian place, Barbados, that Johnny (Nick's uncle) had taken Steve and Nick to, but we couldn't find it. It was supposedly on Elizabeth Street, but it's a fairly short street, and we didn't find it. First, though, we had drinks at Epistrophy, which is an incredibly cool place. Jen met us there. The last time we'd seen her was at The Market Cafe for lunch, so she was already all dolled up and beautiful for the surprise party she was goinf to for her friend Lisa. Nick was running around frantically to Paul Frank and all these places trying to find a card for Lisa, but ended up struggling to get ballpoint pen to show up on a postcard at Epistrophy.
We ended up just getting dumplings, a nice little appetizer, at The Kitchen Club, a great place that we all love. Walking home, we saw the funniest flyer for a lost lighter, and it had a website that I went to, and it's actually pretty amusing. Here, http://www.ilostmylighter.com. Dana's the one that created it. Check it out.
Then we went outside when we got home and played idiotball, adding to the injuries I amassed Thursday night (either that or Wednesday night) when we had Tom, Paul, Erica, Maggie, Mike, Dane, Hayden, and some other folks I don't really remember over. We went swimming again, like me and Sophia did last weekend, brrrr. Paul tied his shirt up in a knot, stuffed two apples down his shirt, and placed a blonde wig on his closely cut hair. Then we taught him to model walk. It was great.
We got the drumset fixed up, huzzah. I'm spending practically every free moment in there (the garage where the set is). The guy at The Drum Center didn't charge us for fixing the sutff huzzah. He put a clutch on the hi-hat, gave us some screwsf or the bass drum, gave us a key for the snare
Okay, the lag on my computer is pissing me loff. I'm sorry if this stuff is spelt very wrong or whatev. I have to go. It's so annoying, I can't even see what I'm writing.
R.I.P. Goober
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Wishing for More Wishes
I just wish that I could've given him a better life. You know, cared more about him. Held him. Patted him. Let him run around. Given him those special treats. Added some extra shavings to his cage. But you never know how important these kinds of things are until later.
I don't feel like writing about anything else that's happened since I last updated. Who cares about Mama Mia? Who cares about losing my iPod, celly, DS, whatever else was in my bag? Who cares about sleepovers? Why is it so important?
And why is there so much drama about little things? You like him, he doesn't like you, end of story. She used to be nice, now she's a bitch, period. It's so stupid.
Not when you can come home from your friend's house, from a pedicure, from fun, and learn that in the past - what, 12? - hours that you've been enjoying yourself, one of your family members is dead.
You probably thinking I'm overreacting. Oh, he's just a rabbit. And you know, he really was just a rabbit. But it still hurts.
No, actually, he was more than just a rabbit. He was a life. A life that is gone. But he's going to be creating more life, because we're going to bury him in the backyard and he will become part of the circle of life.
How corny does this sound? I don't care how corny it is, okay? It just hurts really really bad. People who hate me are reading this. They're probably thinking, "Hah, she's crying, she's hurting, serves her right."
So, in order to "serve me right", you're going to extinguish a life?
Goober was an old rabbit. He was a good, old rabbit, six years old - oh my god. I just realized that this morning I was looking at Easter cards at Corinne's house and I saw a card with a picture of a rabbit. "This looks like my rabbit," I said, "except less demonic."
I am so sorry, Goober. I am so so so so so sorry.
I love you. I know I could've shown it better, but I really do love you. And I wish I could show you that.
I'm not going to look at him. The vet had to shave him to determine what had caused him to die, but no conclusion was made. I don't want to remember him as a shaven, pathetic-looking creature. I want to remember him as the handsome, funny rabbit that he was.
In the car, I told Paula (Cori's mom) that my rabbit changes colors. In the winter, he's darker, and in the summer, he's lighter. Right now he's patchy. In between his amazing change.
I'm sorry. I really, truly am.
I don't feel like writing about anything else that's happened since I last updated. Who cares about Mama Mia? Who cares about losing my iPod, celly, DS, whatever else was in my bag? Who cares about sleepovers? Why is it so important?
And why is there so much drama about little things? You like him, he doesn't like you, end of story. She used to be nice, now she's a bitch, period. It's so stupid.
Not when you can come home from your friend's house, from a pedicure, from fun, and learn that in the past - what, 12? - hours that you've been enjoying yourself, one of your family members is dead.
You probably thinking I'm overreacting. Oh, he's just a rabbit. And you know, he really was just a rabbit. But it still hurts.
No, actually, he was more than just a rabbit. He was a life. A life that is gone. But he's going to be creating more life, because we're going to bury him in the backyard and he will become part of the circle of life.
How corny does this sound? I don't care how corny it is, okay? It just hurts really really bad. People who hate me are reading this. They're probably thinking, "Hah, she's crying, she's hurting, serves her right."
So, in order to "serve me right", you're going to extinguish a life?
Goober was an old rabbit. He was a good, old rabbit, six years old - oh my god. I just realized that this morning I was looking at Easter cards at Corinne's house and I saw a card with a picture of a rabbit. "This looks like my rabbit," I said, "except less demonic."
I am so sorry, Goober. I am so so so so so sorry.
I love you. I know I could've shown it better, but I really do love you. And I wish I could show you that.
I'm not going to look at him. The vet had to shave him to determine what had caused him to die, but no conclusion was made. I don't want to remember him as a shaven, pathetic-looking creature. I want to remember him as the handsome, funny rabbit that he was.
In the car, I told Paula (Cori's mom) that my rabbit changes colors. In the winter, he's darker, and in the summer, he's lighter. Right now he's patchy. In between his amazing change.
I'm sorry. I really, truly am.
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