Hello everyone. I hope that everyone is feeling fresh and... shiny. That doesn't really mean anything, I was just making an entrance. Hang on, gotta go do something. ... Okay, I'm back. By the way, this is Her reporting in. Nothing much going on right now, just listening to some Dave Matthews Band. He is one of the most talented vocalists and songwriters I know of, if you haven't heard any of his works, lend an ear! It's wonderful. You're probably wondering why it seemed as though I was under the influence of some type of drug yesterday, but alas, no, I wasn't. I was just surrounded by a laughing bunch of partygoers and was whimsically writing whatever came to my head. And that's the end of that. So... oh yeah! I got a call from Diana, she's well, went on a nice "three hour tour" aboard a boat earlier, sounds like my kind of claustrophobic fun :). Lalala.
love, love, love, love
what more is there?
the light of love in here
don't beat your head
dry your eyes
let the love in there
there're bad times
but that's okay
just look for love...in...here... - DMB
G'night folks, have a wonderful night! -Her
Countdown to X-Files Season Premier: 36 days and counting.
Ahhh. Boy am I ever tired. I can't stress how tired I am right now. But anyway, on with the show! Now reporting: Her and Patsy "da bomb diggity" Novaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!" Um, well, nothing much happened today except the small fact that someone came back to our school today from winning a bronze medal in weightlifting at the Olympics. And that's pretty much it. ::sigh:: No biggie. Well, we haven't heard anything from "Big D" yet, so hang on to your knickers, alright? Alright. Now we've got that settled. In further news, X-Files partay tonight, WOO HOO! David, I love you so much... but you're married. You're married. I know. I see the ring that you so prominently display on your ring finger. But I still love you. Truly. I am staring at a woodpecker coaster right now. It's interesting, believe me. Oh, oh, oh...! Look at that - I just saw a fleck of dust waft past in a gust of wind! Some people are psychos. I really really want a nice, cheesy cheese pizza. Wow, the wind is really whippin' up a storm outside the window... oh oh oh! More news. Someone else just pulled up into my driveway. Good luck gettin' the car out, buddy. Man. I am really craving some pizza right now. Arg. Arg goes the pirate. Shut up, you confounded parrot! Quit calling the cat over here! Dang you, all of you parrots, mate! ARG! Me peg-leg is acting up again! Alright, this has gone far enough. I shall depart from typing all this nonsense. Buh BYERS, LANGLY, and FROHIKE! Her and Patsy Countdown to X-Files Season Premier: 37 days and counting. Have a wonderful day!
Hello, hello, hello. Wow. A nice, open space! Well, I thought I was attracted to shiny objects, but, whew ::takes a few steps back from computer screen to take it all in:: never did I expect such a wonderful thing as this wonderful, open space! I appreciate Reggae! Just thought I'd add that in. This should be quite an interesting experience, but a fun one, I assure you, a fun one! ANNOUNCER: And now, buckle your safety belts ladies and gentlemen, for you are now going to embark on a journey through... Her twisted psyche! Enjoy your voyage, and nighty night, comrades ;) - Her
Patsy has gotten her braces removed today. It's a whole lot different, considering that the whole time that I have known her (for two years, basically), she has had them. And it's going to take awhile to get used to the new look. But it's going to look great -- she looks great. Everything looks great.
I have no idea what I am going to do spending seven hours in a car with my family. My family is such a -- well, to be frank -- boring family. They all sing terribly at random points, they all have weird (and very opinionated) ways of thinking, and they are all very curious people. I follow along none of those catergories. So I will be the one in the corner of the nice rental car (some tanned colored Nissan), listening to Tori Amos while in a frenzy over why the laptop is running so damn low on batteries.
So, She (and possibly Patsy) are taking over the blog for two days, while I am out of town. Enjoy their stay, will ya? (And please be nice to them -- they probably have no idea to what they're doing on Blogger.)
I'm leaving tomorrow morning, around 10 am. Everything's set, I'm ready to leave this place for a few days and just do what I have to do in order to live my life. Life goes on. I don't want to leave. It's hard to leave things behind like it is.
I hope everyone has a good weekend. I'll be back on Sunday.
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful butterfly. It was orange and black, and fluttering amongst his friends when he suddenly felt very weak. He flew lower... and lower... and lower, and eventually he was gasping for breath on the hot pavement. It stood still for a moment before going completely still. Dead. Life was over, and one ant came to feast. Two. Three. Four. Soon, there were piles of ants infesting on the insides and outsides of the beautiful butterfly. Its wings stuttered once, and everything was gone. Pieces of the body were carried away. Gone, life was gone. And I watched the beautiful butterfly become the food for the starving ants. There are 1,000,000 ants for every human on the earth. That is a lot.
This is the first time I've been online today, minus this morning. I did a few things (extra credit projects, shopping for school supplies, and the like) alone, and found out a few things about what I am actually studying in class. Like about the beginning of the fall of the Roman Empire, the heures in French, and how good Watership Down is. It's all kind of weird actually, you know, doing projects and studying.
My father found out about my grade. That's why I had to do all of this: I had to show an effort, he said, and (he suggested) that today would be a great day to catch up on my studies. And I had to give up an afternoon with Her and Patsy at Barnes and Noble, and I feel kind of bad. But as soon as I got home, the work was put on me, and I guess I kind of forgot other things for the time. And then, now, I'm online, and it all kind of flows back: when will I call Him?, and I wonder what Patsy is thinking, and what is She laughing at in this instant? It's not that I escaped reality. It's just that, for one afternoon in my life -- of all my life -- I focused on one thing, and that thing -- of all things -- was to do good and to study and do right. I don't know. It's just kind of confusing.
I'm still going out of town this weekend, to North Carolina. I'll have lots of notes to give you when I get back. Going on a boat for four hours, staying in a hotel room, laying out on a beach for once. Maybe even buying a cheap camera and just poking around the hotel. It's going to be a long trip. Seven hours in a car. Seven. I've spent a total of nearly 14 hours in the car with my parents at once, and that was terrible. So this doesn't look so bad.
One last thing, before I sign off for now: a search for mouse flattened crushed under shoes, in Italian was in my referrals, and I just happened to be second one to show up.
I told my mother about my grade this morning. She gave me this look, and then said straight to my face, "Diana, if he (my father) asks you then just tell him that you made a 70 or 71, something. Just barely passing. I'll follow along with you on this story, but I want you to pull your grade up, because this won't stay covered up forever." If you know my mother personally, then you wouldn't think she'd say something like that, something so straight-forward and comforting. She's usually biting my back about everything.
My parents are in the kitchen right now, talking. About what, I don't know. Every now and then, my mom's voice gets a little louder. And every now and then, I wince and think, Are they arguing over me? I hope not. I hope my father doesn't ask me over dinner when he already knows the answer.
I want to do a Behind the Curtain sort of ordeal, where I would take photos of myself over a period of 24 hours. Would I be able to pull it off? Would I be able to have a 24 hour blog to join it? That'd be quite an adventure, wouldn't it? I thought so, too. You know, just getting a disposable camera and taking one every hour, no matter where I happened to be at the time -- and perhaps blogging after the photo was taken, later adding the developed photos to the entry. Yeah.
I haven't told my parents about my grade yet. I'm slightly nervous to do so, because they will over-react. They will yell at me for being online for so long and yet not telling them right away. So it's going to happen tomorrow, right when I get home. Fake tears may be needed. Real tears may be done, as well as continuous name-calling towards myself ("I'm so worthless!")
Right now, they're asking me questions. "Does She have a boyfriend?" "No," I reply. "Why not?" my father pesters. "I don't know," I reply. I mean, come on, I don't really think it's their business. They don't like Him. They will blame Him for my grades. Uh-huh, like it's his fault I failed the test.
I'm going out of town this weekend. No way I can get out of it. Seven hours of them telling me that I am a bad student. Gr, this is going to be bad.
Remember that super-important test on Friday? I got it back today. And my score, you ask? It was, like me, a failure. The score is divisible by 1, 2, 29, and itself. 1+2+29+the number=90. Ninety percent is the score that I wanted, or at least dreamed that I could make. The reality of it all? I got a 58.
I don't know how to tell my father -- who expected so much out of me -- that I got a 58 on a test that I studied for. For once in my life. And now I'm in a room with him, and it just feels incredibly bad hiding this from him. He hasn't asked yet, so I haven't told yet. When he does ask, he will recieve his answer. Lying would get myself into more trouble. When he was first told that there was a test, he gave me a look and said with total seriousness in his voice, "Diana, I want you to pass this test, or you won't do anything anymore with Him or Her or Patsy or anybody. No phone, no computer, nothing. Do you understand?" I nodded at the time, muttered out a "yes sir" and then watched the road slide by in the car. I really wish that I passed that test -- I would do anything to have that happen.
I told Him and Her that I failed it. Only He -- I think -- knows about the talk my father and I had. And He doesn't seem to care now. In fact, He wants me to tell my parents and have me face the consequences. So if I don't post in awhile, then you know why -- my life would be taken away from me.
Britney Spears admits her feelings about Justin Timberlake. As Jerwin (the person who I found the link from, and a fabulous writer) puts it: "Her spin doctors probably made the grim realization that the little trollop-wannabe's final minutes of fame are coming to an end so they tell her to do the dance of truth real' fast. I applaud these people who run her career. They're quite seasoned manipulators. They know they've got a product with a very limited shelf life..." It's all too true, I guess. You saw them sitting together at that God-awful MTV awards, you see photos of them everywhere -- it's glad that she finally got it out of her system. The next step would be to admit about her implants, or that she was pregnant. And then release that "Dear Diary" song in the same week with some raunchy video. It all comes into place now.
Robert Frost, "The Armful"
For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at. once
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best.
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.
He's picking me up any moment now. All I know is that it involves a beach and him "performing" (ie, with a band or whatnot -- He plays trombone). As for the rest of the details, I (as well as my paranoid parents) have no clue of. I hope it goes well, though, because I need a day out that doesn't go wrong.
I drove to Publix this morning with my mother. I drove to the gas station last night, and would've crashed if someone was behind me. I couldn't tell my left from my right. My mom was screaming "RIGHT!" and I was going left, and she's like, "SLOW DOWN, DIANA, AND TURN RIGHT!" Finally, I stopped at the gas station and breathed. Then I drove perfectly the rest of the night. And I figured out how to work the lights and the windshield wipers. I am so cool, aren't I? My parents are debating to get two Kias (a type of car) and trade in my car and the station wagon. Which would leave my older brother's Nissan (for now -- until he reclaims it), the New Yorker (which doesn't have a transmission right now) and the Kias. Unless if we trade in the New Yorker instead of my car -- after all, my car works the best out of all our cars, minus the Nissan. I bet you're confused by now.
I'm nervous right now. I don't know why I should be. Nothing wrong is going to happen today... right?
Watching The Matrix on HBO. I watched Truth or Dare (The Madonna documentary), Clue, and part of Go. I have somewhere to go in the morning: with Him to somewhere where He won't tell me. And I bet you're curious, you lovely reader, of what this guy looks like, and if you should be the father figure and hate him or not. Here is a photo. Which is he, you ask. Take your guess.
I rented A Clockwork Orange, too, but I have yet to watch it. I'm kind of amused by The Matrix right now, even though Keanu Reeves isn't a good actor anymore. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure was good, and everything has gone downhill from now. So I guess I'll just sit around and watch that movie and then wake up at 8:30 to be able to go with Him somewhere at 9:30. Will I be prepared? No, of course not. I never am.
By the way, He is the one on the far left.