Whee for boredness in first period when most of the class poofed to go listen to some CSI dude for Career Day.
Mrs. B gave us the choice to go listen to the speakers in other rooms or to hang around in the room and amuse ourselves, and since we were feeling lazy here we are. XD
By all rights I should be using this time to work on the bibliography or the big two-day review thinger, but I'm a lazyass. And I've been looking at pictures of my demented sister and her roomate modeling granny panties and little pink thongs.
And I'm running out of things to say, besides this: NO MORE CAFFINE FOR DAVID!
4.24.2008
4.21.2008
DO NOT WANT!
There's a reason I am such a rabid Huss fan and why I'm completely anti-Askbrook. And the reason's name is Grier middle school. I can't begin to describe how much I hated, how much I absolutely despised, that place. How much I wanted to bomb it or set it on fire or go on a rampage with a .50-caliber rifle. How utterly insane I would be if I had to stay there, or to go where the people who gave me such grief are currently going.
You peeps who know me from Huss: the happy-go-lucky, laid back me you know now is very different from what I was like at Grier.
I hated that place so much. What I felt throughout the time I went there was nothing but deep, smoldering, helpless rage, frustration, and utter hatred. I can't even form words to articulate how much I did NOT like that school. It was all the students, too. It was them who turned me against it. Otherwise, I would've been fine.
Imagine the normal behavior of the average Huss student, and magnify all the stupid, irritating, disrespectful, destructive, and whatever other negative aspects you can think of by tenfold. Those are the sort of people I dealt with at Grier.
Now, once I moved to Huss, I escaped the vast majority of those people, thanks to IB. So in the last two or three years, I've been able to relax and not have to deal with it. But the Chemistry class I'm taking is bringing up all the unpleasant memories, and it's not doing me much good.
This one group of arseholes who sit right in front of me are loud, disrespectful to the point that they openly mock the teacher, disruptive, and everything else I despised about the Grier students. The class is easy enough that I get done early, and am left with absolutely nothing to do but sit there and brood over how much I'd like to murder them all in the most gruesome manner I can imagine. That's what happened at Grier too: I got done and was left with nothing but to sit and brood.
Flashbacks of Grier are not good for my sanity, and for the personal safety of everyone around me.
In Grier, I was in my own little nutshell. I spoke to the others as little as humanly possible, I did my work and stuck my nose in a book. Even that didn't work half the time, since the teachers disliked me getting into my books in an effort to keep my sanity at a borderline normal level. I had to deal with these people every single day, starting the moment I walked into the building and ending when I crossed the street into the parking lot. Every day, the same torture.
And for most of my time at Grier, I had no friends. I knew that not only would none of the people there want to be friends with the little antisocial midget who snaps every time you say something in her general direction, but that I had so little in common with the vast majority of Grier students that I might as well have been another species. I hated every single one of them about as fiercely as you can hate any living thing, and I even if I was on the other side of the universe I would still be too close to them. So it was mutual hatred that kept me in my little bubble.
If I had stayed like that through the whole three years, I'd be a very different individual. But in the beginning of my eighth grade year, my two friends Kelsey and Tanis took me under their wings. No, they aren't even friends. They're more like my sisters in spirit. Look at me, I'm getting choked up just writing about it.
Really, those two helped keep me sane. If it hadn't been for them, I would've gone through a whole other year of sitting there hunched in my desk plotting homicide and knowing that all I can do is glare at the backs of their heads. Kelsey and Tanis pulled me from my abyss, from the little niche I had carved from the walls of the hellhole for myself, and brought me back from the brink. They were the ones I could talk to once I'd finished my work to ward off the hours of useless brooding, the ones I could confide in when it just got to be too much, the ones who held me back when I almost started a fight in P.E.
Yeah, I did almost start a fight. You peeps who know me from Huss know that usually I'm the last one you'd think of starting a fight, but this one little bitch just rubbed me completely the wrong way and I got sick and tired of putting up with it. Kelsey almost had a conniption fit, and if she hadn't been there, a fight would have happened.
So yeah. There's my rant for the day. Peace.
You peeps who know me from Huss: the happy-go-lucky, laid back me you know now is very different from what I was like at Grier.
I hated that place so much. What I felt throughout the time I went there was nothing but deep, smoldering, helpless rage, frustration, and utter hatred. I can't even form words to articulate how much I did NOT like that school. It was all the students, too. It was them who turned me against it. Otherwise, I would've been fine.
Imagine the normal behavior of the average Huss student, and magnify all the stupid, irritating, disrespectful, destructive, and whatever other negative aspects you can think of by tenfold. Those are the sort of people I dealt with at Grier.
Now, once I moved to Huss, I escaped the vast majority of those people, thanks to IB. So in the last two or three years, I've been able to relax and not have to deal with it. But the Chemistry class I'm taking is bringing up all the unpleasant memories, and it's not doing me much good.
This one group of arseholes who sit right in front of me are loud, disrespectful to the point that they openly mock the teacher, disruptive, and everything else I despised about the Grier students. The class is easy enough that I get done early, and am left with absolutely nothing to do but sit there and brood over how much I'd like to murder them all in the most gruesome manner I can imagine. That's what happened at Grier too: I got done and was left with nothing but to sit and brood.
Flashbacks of Grier are not good for my sanity, and for the personal safety of everyone around me.
In Grier, I was in my own little nutshell. I spoke to the others as little as humanly possible, I did my work and stuck my nose in a book. Even that didn't work half the time, since the teachers disliked me getting into my books in an effort to keep my sanity at a borderline normal level. I had to deal with these people every single day, starting the moment I walked into the building and ending when I crossed the street into the parking lot. Every day, the same torture.
And for most of my time at Grier, I had no friends. I knew that not only would none of the people there want to be friends with the little antisocial midget who snaps every time you say something in her general direction, but that I had so little in common with the vast majority of Grier students that I might as well have been another species. I hated every single one of them about as fiercely as you can hate any living thing, and I even if I was on the other side of the universe I would still be too close to them. So it was mutual hatred that kept me in my little bubble.
If I had stayed like that through the whole three years, I'd be a very different individual. But in the beginning of my eighth grade year, my two friends Kelsey and Tanis took me under their wings. No, they aren't even friends. They're more like my sisters in spirit. Look at me, I'm getting choked up just writing about it.
Really, those two helped keep me sane. If it hadn't been for them, I would've gone through a whole other year of sitting there hunched in my desk plotting homicide and knowing that all I can do is glare at the backs of their heads. Kelsey and Tanis pulled me from my abyss, from the little niche I had carved from the walls of the hellhole for myself, and brought me back from the brink. They were the ones I could talk to once I'd finished my work to ward off the hours of useless brooding, the ones I could confide in when it just got to be too much, the ones who held me back when I almost started a fight in P.E.
Yeah, I did almost start a fight. You peeps who know me from Huss know that usually I'm the last one you'd think of starting a fight, but this one little bitch just rubbed me completely the wrong way and I got sick and tired of putting up with it. Kelsey almost had a conniption fit, and if she hadn't been there, a fight would have happened.
So yeah. There's my rant for the day. Peace.
4.18.2008
Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
I look out the window at New Hope Rd. passing by in a blur of color, watching the people go on with their normal Friday afternoon activities. My arm is lightly draped over his bony shoulders, my thumb softly stroking his shaggy chocolate-colored fur.
Every so often I glance at him, my eyes resting on a body wasted with age, skin hanging from bone. This skeletal look has of late become familiar, the heavy stink hanging around him like a malodorous cloud a part of life. I think back to when he was young and active: he used to catapult himself off the ground after bubbles.
We walk into the vet office, and when the receptionist suggests we weigh him I think oh please. Where's the point in that?
The exam room door closes behind us and Beethoven's heavy, rasping breath fends off the silence. This panting is more distress than anything; I can see in his cloudy eyes that he is nervous. He knows perfectly well where he is, and wants to be gone.
We sit with him on the cool tiled floor, silence pervading the small room broken every now and then by sniffs. I blink frequently, dispelling the moisture that threatens to bead in the corners of my eyes. No particular thoughts go through my mind as I gently stroke his bony flank.
He struggles as the nurses try to give him a light sedative to relax him, though soon they get the needle in and give him the sedative. His body relaxes and he settles onto his side, the nictitating membrane flicking over his eyes as his breathing slows and deepens.
Once he's peacefully asleep, we take turns holding his head in our arms to murmur our good-byes. As I step around and lean over his still form, it finally catches up to me. I rest my brow on his temple, stroking his face. Sobs claw at my chest, struggling to be released, but my throat is closed shut. Eventually I must exhale, my breath ragged as I release it and draw air back in. For several minutes I ignore the world, fighting back the sobs constricting my trachea. See ya on the flip side, old man. You give a few squirrels hell for me, all right? Run 'em to the ground, like you used to go after them at home.
The little yellow button set into the wall is pressed twice, and it flashes incessantly for a while until someone acknowledges the summons and cuts it off. The vet walks into a room choked with suppressed emotion that hangs like a thick mist.
The torquinet is clamped around his leg until a vein stands up from his bony foreleg, and the needle goes in. I watch, my gaze transfixed as slowly the translucent pink liquid is injected, my mind still void of articulate thought. After a few minutes his diaphragm and larynx spasm, making him emit a curious noise like a weak cough though his heart has been still for several minutes.
The vet leaves us to take our time with the final good-bye.
"He's off chasing squirrels and eating bubbles now." Yeah. Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
Beethoven still looks like he's asleep, though the gentle rise and fall of his chest is absent. We all hold him one last time, and once more I wait until last. Though I have the opportunity to take as long as I wish, I know that the more I linger the worse it will be. "Bye, Obers." My voice is cracked as I stroke his ears one last time.
More sobs threaten as I take my last fleeting glimpse of him, lying perfectly still on the exam table. I fight them back, keeping my face as neutral as I can as we exit the clinic. It feels bizarre, leaving him there in the exam room.
During the journey home I hold his old collar, remembering how you were always able to tell where ol' Obers was when he had it on by the jingle and clatter of the tags. The strip of tough material lays across my lap, under scrutiny by eyes looking far away into the past.
The headache that had been threatening since fourth period manifests in my sinuses, trying to pry my eyes from my skull. Though I know it's caused by the tears I had let leak from the corners of my eyes, I like to think of it as a physical outlet for the aching grief. The rumbling snarl of the Harley in front of our car on the drive home seems unnaturally loud in my ears.
Stuck in my head in the song that had been playing in the exam room before the vet turned it off in that room prior to the final injection; ironically enough, the song is I Ain't Missing You At All.
So there you have it. After fourteen years, ol' Beethoven can finally rest easy now. Hooch will have fifteen fits and fall in them once he realizes that Obey won't come back, the poor pup.
If you peeps (David, Patrick and Reggie) notice me acting a bit quieter and distracted, don't worry too much. I'll be back to my usual spazzy, hyper self soon enough.
Every so often I glance at him, my eyes resting on a body wasted with age, skin hanging from bone. This skeletal look has of late become familiar, the heavy stink hanging around him like a malodorous cloud a part of life. I think back to when he was young and active: he used to catapult himself off the ground after bubbles.
We walk into the vet office, and when the receptionist suggests we weigh him I think oh please. Where's the point in that?
The exam room door closes behind us and Beethoven's heavy, rasping breath fends off the silence. This panting is more distress than anything; I can see in his cloudy eyes that he is nervous. He knows perfectly well where he is, and wants to be gone.
We sit with him on the cool tiled floor, silence pervading the small room broken every now and then by sniffs. I blink frequently, dispelling the moisture that threatens to bead in the corners of my eyes. No particular thoughts go through my mind as I gently stroke his bony flank.
He struggles as the nurses try to give him a light sedative to relax him, though soon they get the needle in and give him the sedative. His body relaxes and he settles onto his side, the nictitating membrane flicking over his eyes as his breathing slows and deepens.
Once he's peacefully asleep, we take turns holding his head in our arms to murmur our good-byes. As I step around and lean over his still form, it finally catches up to me. I rest my brow on his temple, stroking his face. Sobs claw at my chest, struggling to be released, but my throat is closed shut. Eventually I must exhale, my breath ragged as I release it and draw air back in. For several minutes I ignore the world, fighting back the sobs constricting my trachea. See ya on the flip side, old man. You give a few squirrels hell for me, all right? Run 'em to the ground, like you used to go after them at home.
The little yellow button set into the wall is pressed twice, and it flashes incessantly for a while until someone acknowledges the summons and cuts it off. The vet walks into a room choked with suppressed emotion that hangs like a thick mist.
The torquinet is clamped around his leg until a vein stands up from his bony foreleg, and the needle goes in. I watch, my gaze transfixed as slowly the translucent pink liquid is injected, my mind still void of articulate thought. After a few minutes his diaphragm and larynx spasm, making him emit a curious noise like a weak cough though his heart has been still for several minutes.
The vet leaves us to take our time with the final good-bye.
"He's off chasing squirrels and eating bubbles now." Yeah. Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
Beethoven still looks like he's asleep, though the gentle rise and fall of his chest is absent. We all hold him one last time, and once more I wait until last. Though I have the opportunity to take as long as I wish, I know that the more I linger the worse it will be. "Bye, Obers." My voice is cracked as I stroke his ears one last time.
More sobs threaten as I take my last fleeting glimpse of him, lying perfectly still on the exam table. I fight them back, keeping my face as neutral as I can as we exit the clinic. It feels bizarre, leaving him there in the exam room.
During the journey home I hold his old collar, remembering how you were always able to tell where ol' Obers was when he had it on by the jingle and clatter of the tags. The strip of tough material lays across my lap, under scrutiny by eyes looking far away into the past.
The headache that had been threatening since fourth period manifests in my sinuses, trying to pry my eyes from my skull. Though I know it's caused by the tears I had let leak from the corners of my eyes, I like to think of it as a physical outlet for the aching grief. The rumbling snarl of the Harley in front of our car on the drive home seems unnaturally loud in my ears.
Stuck in my head in the song that had been playing in the exam room before the vet turned it off in that room prior to the final injection; ironically enough, the song is I Ain't Missing You At All.
***
So there you have it. After fourteen years, ol' Beethoven can finally rest easy now. Hooch will have fifteen fits and fall in them once he realizes that Obey won't come back, the poor pup.
If you peeps (David, Patrick and Reggie) notice me acting a bit quieter and distracted, don't worry too much. I'll be back to my usual spazzy, hyper self soon enough.
4.17.2008
Cambrige Pikchers!
Uploading photos for the mandala project, I stumbled on the pictures I took in Cambrige. There aren't many, but one or three in particular make me giggle. These ones I'ma post are from the trip to Ely Cathedral. For some reason almost all the pictures I took were fuzzy, but these two are pretty good.
The first one is from a bathroom since the person I was hanging around with needed to go, and the second one is from us wandering aimlessly in the drizzle. Then there's the picture of Ely Cathedral's octagonal spire, which was absurdly high. In the picture you can't really tell, but near the top are twenty-four huge wooden panels painted with angels, and they open out so people in the tower can look into the church. Some of us happened to glance up as someone was looking down, and it made me realize how BLOODY HIGH that tower was. X_x
The first one had me laughing hysterically for like five minutes. I wanted to steal it and bring it home.
The first one is from a bathroom since the person I was hanging around with needed to go, and the second one is from us wandering aimlessly in the drizzle. Then there's the picture of Ely Cathedral's octagonal spire, which was absurdly high. In the picture you can't really tell, but near the top are twenty-four huge wooden panels painted with angels, and they open out so people in the tower can look into the church. Some of us happened to glance up as someone was looking down, and it made me realize how BLOODY HIGH that tower was. X_x
The first one had me laughing hysterically for like five minutes. I wanted to steal it and bring it home.
4.16.2008
-runs into the wall-
Whee! I stole the How to Read volume from Amanda in Chemistry and read about half of it before Inman caught me. XD Though since the stuff is pretty easy and Inman ends up repeating everything like five times for the little mob of hoodlums(to borrow Mrs. B's word) who never listen, it's no big deal.
Splee. I think I may end up keeping the Real Name card that came with it. Despite what people may think, L is still the most awesome character in the series. -nodnod-
So yeah. Enough gushing, I have a Biology outline to do.
BUT WAIT! Follow link! I almost passed out when I found this. P> Seester, you remember Cyborg 009, yes?
Splee. I think I may end up keeping the Real Name card that came with it. Despite what people may think, L is still the most awesome character in the series. -nodnod-
So yeah. Enough gushing, I have a Biology outline to do.
BUT WAIT! Follow link! I almost passed out when I found this. P> Seester, you remember Cyborg 009, yes?
4.15.2008
>_O
Chemistry is a math-intensive class. But the math is algebra. For someone who's been taking PreCal for the past semester, the stuff we're given in Chemistry is baffling. I'm serious! My brain is in PreCal mode, so the algebra is haaard. -headdesk- Really it's simple Algebra I (PreAlgebra even) but when I try to do it my brain has a horrifying pile-up 'cos it's trying to look at it as PreCal. >_< I'm having to remind myself that it's algebra, not hellspawn.
By the way, trying to find the cosine of the C angle on an oblique triangle is a bitch. A and B are easy enough, but since C is technically cos(x+y) you hafta use the cosxcosy-sinxsiny which gives you something really freaky that I can't bring to mind at the moment. It doesn't reduce easily like the sines do. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, don't bother. It's something we're doing in PreCal. Laws of Sines and Cosines and verifying them, whoo hoo! -sarasm-
So yeah. My rant for the day. -wanders off to finish my PreCal homework-
By the way, trying to find the cosine of the C angle on an oblique triangle is a bitch. A and B are easy enough, but since C is technically cos(x+y) you hafta use the cosxcosy-sinxsiny which gives you something really freaky that I can't bring to mind at the moment. It doesn't reduce easily like the sines do. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, don't bother. It's something we're doing in PreCal. Laws of Sines and Cosines and verifying them, whoo hoo! -sarasm-
So yeah. My rant for the day. -wanders off to finish my PreCal homework-
4.14.2008
I Know Something You Don't!
I know L's real name! And his birthday. -cackle-
Forgive me for gushing about Death Note again, but this series seriously PWNs my face. >_O
But whee! Apparently there's a thirteenth volume of manga that has all the little secrets and such that you never find out, like L's name and birthday. One of my friends in my Chemistry class got a copy. I'ma steal it from her tomorrow when she brings it. -glee-
But she did relay the details that had been annoying the almighty snot out of me that she remembered. And we figured out ages and such. -cackles again-
So, how old do those of you who've read it think L is? -grin-
Forgive me for gushing about Death Note again, but this series seriously PWNs my face. >_O
But whee! Apparently there's a thirteenth volume of manga that has all the little secrets and such that you never find out, like L's name and birthday. One of my friends in my Chemistry class got a copy. I'ma steal it from her tomorrow when she brings it. -glee-
But she did relay the details that had been annoying the almighty snot out of me that she remembered. And we figured out ages and such. -cackles again-
So, how old do those of you who've read it think L is? -grin-
4.13.2008
New post!
Since I'm afraid Seester might eat me if I don't update this thing every now and then, it's a new post from everyone's favorite band geek.
Boy, Radar got me good. X_x Today was the monthly flea-tick meds, and Radar does NOT like being touched. When I was letting him go one of his back claws caught me on the index finger. It's a tidy little cut. Bled like hell for a while.
Anyways, yeah. I'z got new Tripps. At first I wasn't sure about the black, but the purple stitching has grown on me. These're more ornate than my camo Tripps. THe only thing is that they're WAY TOO LONG. I feel like a draft horse when I walk around in these. XP
Not much else to report, 'cept that my Muse is overactive still. -headdesk- Hyper little booger.
Aaand me and Patrick watched Sweeney Todd the other night. -squee- Any Tim Burton movie is automatically awesome, and Jonny Depp in an awesome actor. Not too bad a voice, either.
But damn. A musical! Did you peeps know that the chick who plays Mrs. Lovett in the movie is with Tim Burton? They have a kid! -falls over- Yeah, I watched the special behind-the-scenes thinger on he disc, after watching the movie itself for the third time (and getting a few of the tunes stuck in my head).
Boy, Radar got me good. X_x Today was the monthly flea-tick meds, and Radar does NOT like being touched. When I was letting him go one of his back claws caught me on the index finger. It's a tidy little cut. Bled like hell for a while.
Anyways, yeah. I'z got new Tripps. At first I wasn't sure about the black, but the purple stitching has grown on me. These're more ornate than my camo Tripps. THe only thing is that they're WAY TOO LONG. I feel like a draft horse when I walk around in these. XP
Not much else to report, 'cept that my Muse is overactive still. -headdesk- Hyper little booger.
Aaand me and Patrick watched Sweeney Todd the other night. -squee- Any Tim Burton movie is automatically awesome, and Jonny Depp in an awesome actor. Not too bad a voice, either.
But damn. A musical! Did you peeps know that the chick who plays Mrs. Lovett in the movie is with Tim Burton? They have a kid! -falls over- Yeah, I watched the special behind-the-scenes thinger on he disc, after watching the movie itself for the third time (and getting a few of the tunes stuck in my head).
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