My book list is hearty and ready to be explored.  I have a lot of titles *quickly counts* okay 69.  That's funny.  Anyway, yes.  69 books.  From all sorts of different people I know.  I can't wait to get going.

Oh, that's right.  I already have!  I read a book called At Swim, Two Boys.  It was a close-your-eyes-pick-a-book-off-the-shelf at the library, and this is what I got:



Yes, as a matter of fact, it IS a gay story.  It was 100% unintentional.  Funny how us fags are drawn to such things.  It is over 500 pages long.  Normally hefty books like this turn me on, but this one was a BOTHER.  It took me 6 weeks to finish it.  That is very rare.  When I read a book, I read the goddamn book.  Ya know?  At work the ladies were teasing me every day.  Everyone at work reads a lot.  And I've walked into work every day with the same book.  Lame.  Anyway, I just found it difficult.  Like, hard.

It is an Irish book, written by an Irish man, set in Ireland in 1916.  Historical fiction is yummy.  But there is a political conflict between Britian and Ireland that I simply do not understand.  That was discouraging.  What was also discouraging was that it wasn't a love story.  I mean, it was.  But what whores!  This book made me sad in that boys sleep with other boys even when they are with another boy.  I don't like those stories much.  But this one was.. well.  important.

The whole book was flighty. Okay?  And I thought it would end that way.  Until the last 3 chapters, the book was almost superficial, and then suddenly, you realize this was a love story and na na na na boo boo I tricked you.  I cried so much and so hard.  It was cleansing.

It is written in train-of-thought, which is something I've never experienced.  There are no prepositions.




Today I started A Great and Terrible Beauty.  The first 10 pages consisted of a 16-year-old whining to her mom about going to London, and how she won't let her and it isn't fair.  I was offended that someone my own age was portrayed as a whiny asshat, so I tossed the bastard.

good night. :)

Today was possibly the last day I will see Madie for 6 weeks.  I am far too sad.  Just melancholy.  Yay I have an excuse to say that word?  I wish it meant something happy.  Anyway, I had a great day though.  I'm just bummed about her going away for so long.  I have people here at home, though. 

Brian?  How on earth did you get over 155k?

By the way I'm calling you tomorrow.



I don't have much to report, really.  I'm turning boring sometimes, I think.

We watched Pootie Tang though.  I told my mom that over a text and she's like "Excuse me??" which is very unlike her.  I told her it was just a stupid movie and she was relieved.  hmmm.

good night moon.

the most painful example of acne currently resides inside my nose.

never have I been closer to mental instability.

Sometimes,
the hopes
that you have
for others to feel
as the way you feel
about anything that you can imagine
are more prayers than wishes
and so I'll pray
for you to
just maybe
like.

I exhale.

You know, I was thinking. If a very lazy individual was looking for some sort of excuse to not exercise, I think they could very easily say "Exercising is bad for the environment"

Think about it.. increased breathing, heavier breathing.. I don't know about you but I fart when I run sometimes... that's all gases...

But you know what fatass? Instead of exersizing, what would you be doing? Playing on the computer? Playing Grand Theft Auto? That all takes electricity, which burns fuel, which emits WAY more gases

HA.

>.>

<.

tags: cisco, environmental confession, omaog, qotd, writer's block

is the day I go to court, and watch the man I hate most go to jail.

I am so afraid. I am so scared. I am freaking out and "maybe I shouldn't go" and all this shit.

I will get up in 6 hours, and head downtown. And then I will watch.





I am not doing this for me. I am so afraid. But of what?

good night.

last night.
Reading Elissa's book. :)

tags: writer's block

So if you like being happy, never watch The Boy In the Striped Pajamas.

80's.

tags: writer's block

[ ] make a book list
[ ] keep in good touch with friends
[ ] write stories
[ ] become a better drummer
[ ] make $1000+ (and don't spend it)
[ ] go for walks
[ ] watch 15 movies (done two.)
[ ] go somewhere
[ ] send a story in to be published
[ ] re-organize bottom drawer (it's my writing set of drawers, and the bottom one is like, bloated)
[ ] improve my vocabulary
[ ] write poetry
[ ] do something nice for someone. every day.

I'm thinking about making a blog just about the nice things that I do for people.  and then posting the link on facebook.  by doneit, I'm going to do that.  I'll put the link here later.  Hopefully I keep it up.

bonus list item:

[ ] take driver's ed.


:)

I would choose my significant friends.

tags: writer's block

after the last day of school, after the last coffeehouse, after a day of laughing, memory-sharing, and tears, I come home, I go check my email, and I find the unreal.

First thing I noticed was that one of the three handwritten notes that were on my desk this morning was on my chair, not my desk.  It was a dismissable observation, as it could easily be explained by noticing that the window was open, and you can get a really good gust of wind in my room.  It's happened before.  Anyway, I set the note back in it's place with the other two notes.  I moved my mouse, and my email was up.  As in, my inbox.

My computer is set to not remember passwords for a reason.  It's not all that convenient, but it removes all possibility of "accidental discovery".  Whenever I leave my room, I "x" out of my internet, knowing it will log me out and my personal inbox will be secure.

But not today.

I checked the activity history.  I left the house today at 7:41, and didn't get back online again until 9:51.

I took a screenshot.  I'm a little... hmm.. what's the word?



hopefully that comes in okay.  I have a large .png taken, very visible proof.


anyway.  my first reaction was to confront them.  I have picked up this habit of not taking any shit.  But I sat there, watching this very slow-paced movie with my parents.  my so-called loving parental units, and I realize they could have seen anything.  my inbox is very large.  Gmail has a -theres always enough room- policy, so I haven't deleted a message in over a year.  So yeah.  That includes lj comments, which means lj posts, even the private ones.

...

I changed my password, my security question, and I've decided to put on a face of stone. 

And dearest father or step mother, when you read this (which seems pretty plausible) (I'm leaving it public for you, for convenience.) please note that I will never trust a dishonest person, and it is a policy I live by.  You don't believe your 16-year-old daughter?  I guess I don't blame you.  if you DIDN'T KNOW ME.  But you do.  At least you should.  I am deeply offended you have stomped over my privacy for the umpteenth time.  I thought you realized how awful you were being.

Meanwhile, I live under a roof where my privacy is public.  I hope you're satisfied.

and you made me cry.  congrats.  you are such fools.  I am so disappointed.

good night.

Jenny--

School is almost done for the year.  I can't believe how this year flew by & next year you will be a Junior alread--wow!

This has been a very big year and you have enjoyed many new experiences, found new friends, and have learned a lot!  You found Hayley, sang in a musical, built a home, travelled, excelled at school, juggled a job on top of everything, played jazz, helped try to save a friend's life--lost a friend but still tried to remain one, went camping, wrote (although I don't have proof! :) ) and the list goes on and on. . . .

we are so proud of you, Jen. We really are. I hope you know how much we love you and will be here for you to support you always.

I hope you have a fun, fantastic, wonderful summer.... you deserve it. :)

love you!

Laurie




This note was found along with some chocolate in my room.  She leaves notes like this at the end of the year or semester or whenever I'm stressed to ball-smunching amounts, but this letter I think has meant the most.  I don't know.  It was really nice, and made me feel really good.

:)

x = manipulation

I really don't like drugs.

or x.

It's June 1st.  Did you know that?

I wrote a sappy poem for the last coffeehouse.  I think it will be okay, unless it isn't.

My sister graduated 8th grade today.  She is by far way cooler than anyone else.

I had a good day.  I met people in the eye and spoke genuinely.  And people said I looked good today, like I was looking confident.

It's about time.  Damn.

My grandfather is 85 today.

Happy Birthday grandpa, and I love you.

:)

She owns a flower shop.

Clever
is a Cleaver
and we Can See Her
in a Cloaked
Collapse

Last night I had a dream I had two kids.  A 1-year-old and a 5-year-old.  I was a biologist that put on this huge exhibit for children.  I was successful.  And then suddenly I was taken away.  I was taken away from my children, because someone put a note in saying I was too mentally unstable.  My 1-year-old started crying, and I knew that she was listening even if she couldn't understand.  And my son just stared at me.  He hugged me goodbye, but he expressed nothing but a stare into my eyes. 

I cried myself forever, and woke up crying.

Hayley had a dream I was raped and I had the baby, and she spent her whole dream trying to track down my rapist to kill his ass.

how bout it?

Plan.

tags: planning, spontaneity, writer's block