miércoles, mayo 28, 2003
So I was in my sister's room today playing on the Nintendo, and I looked up in her bookcase and saw the Harry Potter books.
And the strongest desire came over me to start reading them just then and see how far I could have read before I fell asleep from exhaustion. As soon as school lets out, the main thing I'm going to be doing, aside from working, is reading those Harry Potter books, in anticipation for the fifth book's release on the Twenty-First of June. [I know I'm the last person to mention this on the internet, but why be redundant?] I will buy this book, unless, of course, the price is outrageous, which it is apt to be.
Would I be a dork to order it from Amazon? Would I?
posted at 14:43 ||
domingo, mayo 25, 2003
I know this is horrible, but..
Right now, on Larry King Live, is a little kid who talks like Stevie, from Malcom in the Middle.
And I'm laughing at him.
posted at 21:22 ||
My poor weekend. See it there, sitting all sad in the corner? He's unhappy because I forgot to pick him up after school. I called the school and told his teacher that I had to work late, and she had this disapproving tone in her voice. I asked to speak with him, and when the teacher handed the phone towards him, I heard him say, "No, I dont' want to talk to him."
That makes me very sad. My poor attention-starved weekend. He doesn't get quite as much as attention as his other siblings, the weekdays.
posted at 17:36 ||
jueves, mayo 22, 2003
So I'm on the verge of depression. Yesterday was Awards Day at school, and I got the Spanish award, and recognition for being an honors student and on the academic team. Meanwhile, Everett Shepard raked up enough money to buy a house after four years at UVA Wise. That made me tremendously sad, to sit there as presenter after presenter got up and said, "Everett Shepard." I know that I could have beat him out of some of those.
I'm always the one just below the bar. During the ceremony, my calculus teacher and my chemistry teacher gave awards to the people with the three highest averages. Coincidentally, they were the same people in each class. What gets me, though, is that in both of those classes, I was number four. And in both of those classes, Everett was number five. Gah!
Someone once told me to live life so that you never regret anything. Well, I regret not applying for scholarships, and I really regret not auditioning at either university. Everyone I've talked to about college, be they family or friends, has been surprised that I am not getting any scholarships for performing. And I blame that last one on my parents, because they've got these insanely high standards of performance.
Me: I've got an audition this month.
Mom: Can you play your pieces?
Mom: Can you play them perfectly?
Mom: Well, I don't think you should try out unless you can play it perfectly. There's no sense in taking a trip to [whichever university] and wasting their time and our time. You'll be competing against some of the best people in the state. I don't think you should try out unless you can play it perfectly.
Me: [gives in]
Soon thereafter, I tried out for All-Virginia and got third. Out of the entire state. My parents kicked themselves. And then I kicked myself, not only because my instructor was calling me crazy for cancelling all my auditions, but because he said that an audition is not a recital. A recital requires perfection; in fact, the listener demands it. An audition, I found out, is a means for evaluating the performer's potential. We got done playing something during a lesson one day and he said, "Man, you're crazy for not auditioning. After that, I'm sure they'd roll out the red carpet for you."
Now I'm facing four years of loans. Loans. How scary is that?
It makes me even more sad that I won't be going to Richmond this summer, but instead will be working a deadbeat job so that I'll at least have some spending money this fall, which isn't as bad as it seems. At least I'll have some spending money, and I won't have to worry so much about my new computer, because up until today I had been worrying that I would have to quit working, thus rendering me penniless (but with a fancy new gadget).
I just hope this lifts soon. There's a party this Saturday, and depending whether certain people come or not, it will be a blast. Let's hope for the latter.
posted at 17:30 ||
miércoles, mayo 21, 2003
Okay, so I've got the new template up. For the most part, anyway. There are a few things I will have to play around with when the time comes, like unordered lists, and i want some space between the links above (which don't work right now, but they will soon, i promise), and uh...other stuff.
But why would you put this up so unfinished? you ask. Well, I think it looks pretty. And I was just itching to tear that old one down.
So behold the glory that is the new (improved? we'll see) Mad Conservatory! Bask in its festive colors! Go on. I dare you.
See? That wasn't so bad.
posted at 18:16 ||
martes, mayo 20, 2003
Like Anyone Cares
I've picked up that weird form of CSS where you have to put <div id="whateva"> and BAM, the things go where you want, but I'm having trouble with one part. I'm talking about my new template design, of course.
It's really pretty. I'd call it either "Summertime" or "Carnival". And by "Carnival" I mean "Carnival," like in Brasil.
But no one will care anyway, but I just thought I'd let you know, dear one reader, that I am in the process of a revamp.
posted at 23:50 ||
Happy Steak and a Blowjob Day
Read the last part of this entry.
The things you learn in high school. Thanks mom and dad!
posted at 22:31 ||
Almost sad to be going....almost
So today in Chemistry, we all kind of got riled up and were noisy and just having a good ol' time. Ms. Dishner, the teacher, was trying her hardest to get back on topic, but to no avail. So she said, "You know, you're about to find that line," referring to the line where on this side good things happen and on that side bad things happen.
Well, we found it.
She said, "Okay, open your books to page four-ninety, do number twenty-five"--an eight-part question--"and turn it in. Then for homework tonight, I want you all to read the chapter and write a summary to be handed in tomorrow." This is a chapter that started on page four-thirty-something. Then she was going on about how life is a two-way street and people are only as good to you as you are to them and that this is why we have to have stupid rules. We had just been visited by the guidance counselor about the graduation ceremony, so we all felt that much more guilty.
We did our problem and turned it in and left when the bell rang. But then she came and sought us each out and told us to forget about the homework, that she was just having "one of those Dishner fits."
I feel so much worse about it now. This is the sweetest lady ever, to apologise for something we were doing wrong and blame it on herself.
This woman is quite possibly the best teacher I have ever had, and it makes me sad that I won't ever have her again.
So, Ms. Dishner, if you ever, by some stroke of coincidence, read this, konw that your work is appreciated, nay loved. I will be very sad to never have a chemistry class under your direction again.
posted at 14:49 ||
lunes, mayo 19, 2003
posted at 18:40 ||
To be sung in your best Sandra Bullock from Miss Congeniality voice:
I'm going to Rich-mond,
to live alo-one,
to take some class-es,
and not pay any-thing,
out of my pock-et.
domingo, mayo 18, 2003
Sweet loving Jesus.
There is a good chance that I will be spending the summer in Richmond. Alone.
Oh, the possibilities.
Of course, I am still a minor, but that can be overcome with my feminine wiles.
Regardless, I can't wait. I'm antsy, even. I'd get my brand new computer like, the sixth at the latest, and then be off to Richmond on the eighth to be there for the ninth, when classes start.
But this all hinges on that Kilgore fella getting back to us tomorrow with an answer on whether or not we can use that tobacco money.... Let's hope.
posted at 11:51 ||
sábado, mayo 17, 2003
I've finally figured out how my brother gets on my computer while I'm away. He doesn't. He doesn't even know the password. He waits until I get up after using it, then hurries and disables the password, and then hurries away, all the time playing like nothing happened.
Clever. But still a sneaky bastard.
posted at 02:52 ||
viernes, mayo 16, 2003
Aggravation to the Nth degree
Yesterday someone put in a prayer request at that evening's youth worship for me. Because I'm not a Christian. My sister was there, and she came home and told the parents. Dad was pretty angry. He was all, "The goddamned babtist convention better not come knockin' on my door, or I'll be pissed off!" That was last night. Then this morning he was all, "There are two things people don't talk about in polite society: politics and religion. You absolutely do not talk about these things unless you are in the presence of family or close friends."
I just sat there and scowled. I've learned to bite my tongue.
And absolutely nothing was said about it today at school. And the goddamn Youth minister was there, even.
And then I've been hassled by the family to see if I could trade days with someone at work so I can go to Sister's dance recital, so now I have to go in at five, which is about fifty minutes from now. I've washed my shirt in the sink, a secret I've only recently discovered. Shhh....
But I don't have to give up a day or anything. Yay!
Also, today a letter was sent to our house about protocol at graduation. It basically says that attendance is optional, and we can pick up our diplomas on the Friday afterwards. Also that those of us who are attending have to report to the gym at six o'clock in the evening, in June, to be searched by sponsors, teachers, and the police for contraband such as fireworks, beach balls, smoke macines (wtf?!), silly string, air horns, and a whole slew of things that no one could possibly hide under a robe unless it was under the robe...in his anus.
And we will be escorted by the teachers and police to the field, the teachers and police forming a barrier between us and our parents and guests, who might slip us water guns and "other paraphernelia."
I've also been spending a lot of time getting information for summer classes at VCU. There is a possibility that I will be spending most of the summer there. But that means that if I do this, I'd have to turn in my two-week's notice like, today. We're waiting to hear from one of the Kilgores, I can't remember which, about whether or not I can use this tobacco scholarship that I received for the current academic year. He should get back to us by Monday. But if this happens, I'm still working until the beginning of June. I want my goddamn computer. But I guess I could always just take a bigger loan from Apple. *Sigh*....
And on top of this, I've still got to keep with my AP classes. I'm pretty sure I've failed government this nine-weeks, which would be the only time ever. I sure hope not, 'cause then I might get kicked out of college. But if it's just the one class, though, and with my near-impeccable transcript, I wouldn't think they'd kick me out for that. And I have to manage to read all the Tennyson poems I didn't pay attention to (Arthurian legend, ugh) by Monday, and read Wuthering Heights, which is the worst book ever, before the end of the year.
Ah yes: I've been running nearly every day this week, and I can already tell that it's working on my metabolism because I've been having to shit at odd times during the day. Plus the fact that, you know, I'm shitting at all.
So now that my woes are floating around on the internet, I'll take my leave.
posted at 16:26 ||
jueves, mayo 15, 2003
This is My Roommate
andrew: how are you?
me: a bit under the weather
andrew: a bit OVER the weather
andrew: indeed. I was sick a few days agl
andrew: I see and hear all... I want to be a superhero.
me: i just want to fly
andrew: no, I want to destroy those that would do harm to others.
me: i want to flyyyy
andrew: with karate
andrew: and SWORDS
me: and ninchuks
andrew: oh hell no
andrew: no you didn't, no ninchuks. Just karate. and swords.
me: samuri swords?
andrew: whatever swords. Fucking farmer swords if need be
me: just so we're clear
posted at 21:50 ||
miércoles, mayo 14, 2003
In about five minutes, I am going to fail my government final.
Wish me happniess.
posted at 10:21 ||
lunes, mayo 12, 2003
And the Angels Rejoiced in Heaven
Praise be to grandmothers. I just received a one hundred dollar check from my paternal grandmother, which is not the grandmother I had intended to hit up for money.
I had totally forgotten about money. Maybe I'll get money from my maternal grandmother, and my aunt who's visiting (whose husband is an eye doctor, so no shortage of cash there), and my other aunt who works for the government and is married to a lawyer. Shit, I may not even need to use any of my own money. Wouldn't that rule?
Sweet, sweet money, hallowed be thy name.
posted at 16:53 ||
posted at 10:45 ||
domingo, mayo 11, 2003
I am poor. Somehow over the last couple of weeks, I've managed to spend some $350. Where did it go?
Let's see...$305 to VCU, $61 to the tuxedo store, $80 withdrawal ($45 of which I still have, which means I only spent about $30 for supper for two. good deal), $19 for photos. That's like...$420 in ten days. What the fuck!?
I've got a paycheck for about $140 still waiting to be deposited, so that's $185 to be deposited. Saturday is payday, so that's about another, say $120. I hope. So that's like a $305 recoup. Which brings me back up to about $475 in my checking sometime next week, less $19 for when the check for the photos clears. Ooh, and maybe the $33 from ETS for not taking the SAT. And don't think I've surrendered on hitting my grandmother up, either. Maybe she can take care of my lessons all summer; either that, or I'll just have to give them up, which seems more plausible.
Anyhow, I should have enough money to initiate the computer plan at the beginning of June. Which means I'll have my nice new PowerBook (and printer) all summer so I can get used to it and find out what I need to get as far as cables and supplies before heading off for skoo'.
Juan, my current computer, seems to suspect things. Lately he's been acting up, and when I asked him why, he gave me the finger. Oh well. I may have four months to endure in the third level of hell, but I only have to live with you for a month more, Juan.
posted at 23:26 ||
Hello Goodbye Hello Goodbye
This weekend has made me feel very "adult." For instance, on Friday I met Becky and Mandy and we went out to eat lunch at Moto's. Then we went to Dad's CDs, which is the best place ever to get CDs. Then we went to the mall to shop for our mothers, and then we each went to work. See? Adult.
Last night/this morning had me feeling very adult as well. Having missed the test, I stayed in bed until about 10:30, at which time I went and got my tux. That whole affair was stressful not only because my mother came along, but she was giving advice like, "No drinking, no partying, be haved," and complained at having to wait thirty goddamned minutes for us to get our tuxes fitted because it hadn't occurred to her that there were other people in front of us trying on their tuxes, you know, because the prom was thta evening.
And then there was the stress after that when we had to make pictures at the house, and at Brother's date's house, and at my date's house, and it was hellaciously hot outside, even without a tux on, and we had to pose this way and come here and look over there and smile and blah blah blah.
But after that it was fun. Partially because Brother and I split up, for which I am eternally thankful. My date and I went to Rush Street, where we met Mandy and Teague, Sean and Candace, and Kaylie and her babydaddy. Then we went to Meadowview, where we were bored for an hour while the Popular Court had their fun.
Then the dancing started. Oh. My. God. I danced so much, I wore a blister in my foot. My only question is this: Why haven't I been dancing more? I used to go to the sock hops during football season, but they sucked. This was very much better. I bumped and ground and air humped and spazzed and flat-footed and Joe Cocker-ed. Oh, and slow-danced. Good times.
Then we went to LazerVenture, where my good buddy Andrew hooked us up with lazer tag for three dollars a pop. Fun times. I came in sixth out of twelve, but I had a great time sneaking around and carrying on like Bruce Willis in Die Hard.
Then to Perkins, where we acquired Stephen and Sarah, the former of which was so tired (it was two in the morning by then) he was laughing at everything as though he were high. We all were so loud that I'm surprised that we weren't thrown out. Of course, how many people are at Perkins at two o'clock in the morning?
And then we went home and slept till ten o'clock.
Apart from the whole formal wear and the Popular Court, that whole thing could have passed as a (hopefully) regular weekend night at college. It's too bad I have to end this weekend by going to work; but hey, money's money.
posted at 16:22 ||
viernes, mayo 09, 2003
Another Homer Simpson Moment
Under the conditions I thought had existed up until about ten minutes ago, I wouldn't be up this late. In fact, I would be telling myself, "Self, you shouldn't be up this late."
Why shouldn't I be up this late?, you ask. Well, the answer is quite simple: Up until about ten minutes ago, I honestly and truly believed that I had to get up early in the morning and take a goddamned SAT. Now I don't have to take the test tomorrow, so I have nothing to go to bed early for.
But why don't you have to take the test tomorrow? you ask again. My, you're nosy.
The reason I don't have to take the test tomorrow is that I should have taken it last week. A whole fucking seven days ago. I know. Believe me, if it were physically possible for me to kick my own forehead, I would have done it about ten minutes ago.
I don't know how I'm going to go about breaking it to the parents tomorrow, either. Should I still get up early and show them the ticket with the date printed right fucking there? "See? There it is. I should have taken it last week."
And after all the fuss dies down, they will probably tell me to do these two things: 1) Call ETS and see if I can't get a reschedule or, preferably, a refund of my $33, and 2) call VCU to let them know what happened in case they get a piece of mail in the summer that says (god forbid) "Student #123141112341 did not even bother to show up to a test he paid for, so forget about him showing up to classes." I'll just have to tell them that it was all the prom's fault, because it really was. I thought the prom would be the first weekend in May, which was the third, the same day as the SAT, but when I heard that the prom was on the tenth, I guess I just forgot to separate them in my head, so please please please will you not kick me out of your school/give me a refund/reschedule?
Me #1 idiot!
P.S. Evidence of the above line is corroborated by the fact that I read over this entry three times before publishing, and then had to go back to edit a glaring spelling error: "truely" instead of "truly." Not that anyone would have noticed anyway.
posted at 23:22 ||
Why Is It That...
Fat people who walk around in their underwear are called slobs, but skinny people who walk around in their underwear are called models?
posted at 09:16 ||
jueves, mayo 08, 2003
It's coming. I can feel it. Hear it, mostly. It started back at the beginning of the year, the voice that said, "Why the fuck do you have to do another PowerPoint presentation. Fuck that bitch."
Now it's saying, "Fuck it all. Just don't go. Stay home and do what you want. You're not gonna have a chance to do what you want for a looong fucking time, bitch. You're gonna have to work for the next fifty years, motherfucker, so take a while and indulge yourself."
This voice marks the birth of the truancy demon in its earliest manifestation: senioritis. And right now, I am prone to just give in, you know? Just sleep as late as I want, go to school if I feel like it, work if I want to. Right now I just want to go out and get fucked up.
I don't want to go to school tomorrow. It's fucking Junior/Senior Layout day, and I've been there every goddamn year. It's not like I'll be missing anything important. I mean, if numbers 1-8 are going to lay out, then goddammit, aren't I entitled? Every goddamn year, every goddamn Friday filled with ennui because I'm the only goddamn motherfucker there.
I'm just plum give out.
posted at 21:36 ||
miércoles, mayo 07, 2003
Tonight started out like any other Wednesday, with the exception of my having lessons this afternoon due to some sudden emergency with my instructor. We went to the gym instead.
But after that, everything was normal. We came home, ate supper, I took Sister to Youth, and Brother to lessons. When we got to lessons, things took a turn for the...whatever.
On the corner across from where Brother's lessons are was a Mexican man combing his hair. He looked like he was waiting for something. I thought about asking him if he was waiting on the bus or not (in Spanish, of course). Brother and I debated whether or not to talk to him. During the course of our debate, the Mexican managed to walk down back toward the bus station and then returned to the corner and sat down on the curb to read his book. Eventually, Brother and I decided to go over and talk to him anyway.
"Hola," I called out.
"Hola," he responded.
"Qué está leyendo?" I asked him. He flipped over his book: Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. In English. And he was halfway through.
"You like these books?" he asked. I told him I did, and that I thought Hannibal was a bit over the top. We had a little discussion, him speaking near-perfect English. He explained that he was waiting for his friend who was supposed to pick him up, but had been waiting for an hour. He bummed some change to call his friend, but all we had were pennies and dimes. Not enough. Brother had to go to lessons, and I asked Brother's lessons man if the Mexican could use the phone. He called and didn't get an answer.
He thanked me and went back to the corner. I went back to the van and took off for my haircut. When I got back, Brother was done with lessons and had been talking to the guy. He found out that the guy had come to the US when he was fifteen and had been granted amnesty, so he was a US citizen. He found out that he was a carpenter, and had arrived from Florida on his way to North Carolina. He was looking for work so he could buy a ticket to North Carolina. To fucking work.
We found out that his name was Antonio, and we showed him where the library was, because the library has a gazebo that the homeless people often sleep under. He had asked if there was a mission around. I told him that, unfortunately, we weren't a very Catholic area, so if there were missions, I would have no idea where they were. So we took him to one of the churches near the library and found the choir finishing rehearsal. I explained what the deal was and asked if it would be possible to let him stay in the church tonight. I'm positive by the way they looked at us that they thought we were all stoned or drunk or both.
But they pointed us to the Salvation Army, which turned out to be of no help whatsoever. Apparently he needed some kind of photo identification, or so said the toad-faced bitch behind the check-in desk. "We cayunt let him stay withaut a picture idee or [some sort of legal document obtained from a police station], cuz we have no way of knowin' if he is who he says he is." The guy had his fucking Social Security Card, his amnesty papers, and a copy of a legal-looking document that had a big black spot that I initially thought were fingerprints, but turned out to be an ill-copied photograph, and the Toad still wouldn't let him in.
And the way she didn't talk to him, the guy with the problem, but rather to me, the smart-looking clean-cut white guy. (But apparently not clean-cut enough to not be looked down upon in a church.)
We left the building and proceeded to cuss that fucking bitch out. I told him about S&G Labor and about how he might find work there, but later I found out that the office in Kingsport had closed, and the nearest was in Johnson City, an hour away by car. We said our goodbyes, he trekked to the gazebo at the library, and we departed for home.
I am so fucking mad about this whole thing. First of all, the guy is a US CITIZEN and can't even manage get into the fucking Salvation Army to sleep on a measley cot inside out of the rain. And the saddest part is, this guy was singing America's praises the whole way to the Salvation Army, saying things like, "To learn Chinese, you have to go to China; to learn French, you have to go to France. Not in America. In America, everything is together. You can learn many different ways to do just one thing." And then he can't even get into the fucking Salvation Army.
Stupid toad-faced motherfucking bitch. I hope she breaks out in Jesus Hives or something.
And then, to top it all off, we get home late after this night of altruism, and are bitched at for doing so. For helping another human being in need, much less a fellow countryman.
No wonder the world hates America. We hated them first.
posted at 22:59 ||
Should I Do Away with Titles? Honestly, I'm Running on Empty Here
So I've got a lot on the plate for the next four or five days. Tomorrow I'm playing with a group at an ROTC graduation at North High School. Friday I work. Saturday is not only the prom, but also the SAT II (Writing and Spanish). Sunday I play lazer tag, then twelve hours later I work. Monday might be a gig of some sort, but at this point I'm just wanting to get through tonight.
I'm getting a haircut tonight. Like, in an hour. I'm excited. It's going to be different. I've got guidelines to give the hairdresser, which are as follows:
- I'm looking for something short
- I'm looking for something short that looks good in a tux
- I'm looking for something short that looks good in a tux and doesn't involve me spiking anything
Within those boundaries, everything is completely at her discretion.
And now I have to go take Brother to guitar lessons. Yee haw.
posted at 19:00 ||
martes, mayo 06, 2003
I Honestly Cannot Think of a Title for This One
I'm not having the best of luck with tests lately. Well, not so much as being prepared as taking them. And it's entirely the fault of others.
For instance, yesterday I took the big fuckin' AP English test, and was moved not once, not twice, but thrice. Moving so much does nothing to aid in concentrating on a test that will possibly exempt me from having to take any more English classes, ever.
And then again, today in Chemistry, someone decided that it was absolutely necessary to fix the air conditioning in the adjacent room with all the tools needed to remove an exterior brick wall and dig a manhole. Inconsiderate bastards. And Mr. John Smith didn't help either when he came in and bellowed, "WAY-ULL, WHAT'S GOIN' ON IN HERE!" to which I responded "We're taking a test, thank you very much."
Anyhow, I've come up with a solution to both my clothes dilemma and my job dilemma: work at a clothes store. Preferably a trendy clothes store, such as American Eagle or Abercrombie and Fitch. Even still, preferably Abercrombie and Fitch, because with thirty dollar t-shirts, there will be no risk of shortness of funds.
But then, of course, there are the drawbacks. Obviously, I will only need to work there for four months, so pay is an issue. Will I make more this summer at Abercrombie and Fitch? Doubtful.
I'm just going to stop bitching about this and suck it up. It's only four months.
posted at 17:10 ||
domingo, mayo 04, 2003
Wherein Cole Bitches
Oh my god, do I hate my job. I remember back when I used to like it, because I was new and had to learn things and was busy all the time. Now it's just fucking tedious. I want a new job. Preferably one that doesn't involve food.
I need new clothes. Let me rephrase: I need new shirts. I have almost nothing but white T-shirts. I have almost nothing but the seventy white 2000 All-County Band T-shirts. I need some goddamn color. For sure.
I'm going to have to wait until school lets out to buy my computer. Or mabye I can hit my grandmother up for money, or maybe Mom will mention something about my computer shopping to her, and Grandma will give me like $500. That would rule all. But there's a slim chance of that. The reason being that tomorrow is a FUCKING AP ENGLISH TEST for which I have to pay SEVENTY MOTHERFUCKING DOLLARS. And then the prom is on Saturday, and I'm taking $100 with me. And I only work two days this week, ante- and post-prom. What a weekend. Oh, and then there's the fucking SAT on Saturday as well.
And I think something is wrong with this town's water system, as I can fucking TASTE the fluorine they put in the water. Bastards.
Note: I'm sick right now, and really not looking forward to this week, so pardon all the bitching. At least I'm not bitching to you in person, which is much worse.
posted at 23:21 ||
Things On My Mind
So now that Blogger is fucking running again, I've got a post.
posted at 13:36 ||
- First of all, I think a redesign is long overdue. Something in this font.
- Second: Star Wars, while the imagery and effects and Yoda kick ass, the dialogue and plot suffer from the same handicap as this person. Especially when Anakin is holding his dying mother, and she manages to squeak out, "I-I...love..." and promptly dies. Someone should get an Oscar for that one.
- Third: I just got through taking a take-home test, and am in a bit of a moral quandary. Not about cheating. I have no qualms about cheating whatsoever. However, should I have tried y damndest to find every answer? Because I did. I didn't find them all, which means I probably won't get a perfect score (like that would ever have happened anyway), but I feel like such a bitch for going back on my resolution. But then again, I did fairly well (I believe) on the last test, which was both multiple choice and essay, so a good grade on this test won't be so strange. Right? Right?
- Fourth: I'm finally fucking doing fucking laundry. Fucking hallelieujia.
I tried to post something with the same name that was a bit longer than this will be, but it was lost ni a rip in the space-time continuum. So here is a brief summation of what it said:
I found my paycheck. In the bank. I had already deposited it. Puts my computer calculations back by about $120. Will have to wait a month or two until am able to buy computer.
Went to deposit other paycheck, only to find out that banks are closed on Saturdays. Who knew?
Was not able to go swimming today because mother had planned some big late lunch/early dinner thing this evening, which I secretly believe she intentionally just threw out there to keep me from going swimming. I can't possibly think of any motivation, but I really wanted to fucking go swimming.
posted at 00:23 ||
sábado, mayo 03, 2003
Where the fuck is my paycheck?
posted at 10:14 ||
I Knew it All Along
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test
posted at 10:13 ||
Computer Shopping, cont'd
Okay, since the post two days ago, I've been doing some research and negotiating. With $500 from my savings account, plus about $575 from my checking, and $700 I would get by selling this current shitbox to the family (in order to retire the six year old computer with one gig of hard drive space and 32MB of RAM. Dated, I know.), I would only have to pay for about $200, because the family would pay their $700, and I would pay my $200, and I'd have a fancy new computer. A fancy new Apple computer.
I'm giddy with anticipation.
Plus, it says on the financial page thing that I can "prepay" as much as I want without penalty, and my contribution would be a month's paychecks. Maybe three paychecks. And I'd probably have to put lessons on hiatus for a while, 'cause I'll be fuckin' broke. But I'm willing to sacrifice. And I'll just work all the fuckin' time during the summer so I'll have some money when I'm in Richmond. I will insist on working every day possible.
Of course, tomorrow I'm going to the Rotary dinner with a friend, and there's $25,000 up for grabs, so it's highly possible that I will not have to worry about this, given my history with winning large sums of money.
One can only hope.
P.S. Come to think of it, I might not need to delve so heavily into my savings. But, alas, I am too tired to re-calculate anything. We shall see, though.
posted at 00:39 ||