Monday, July 28, 2003
Gah. I woke up at seven. Well, actually, I'd been awake for four hours or so, lying in bed in a rejuvinative state, and simply chose to get out of bed and go take some pills at seven. Last night I thought I felt almost completely better. I think my symptoms decided to wear off for awhile so I could eat something, but it's good to know I won't die of starvation now. I'm getting better. I've still got the sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, and that godawful split lip which is very slowly healing, but I think most of my fever, my headache, dizziness and whatnot is gone. I want to see Larkin today. I can't wait.
Sunday, July 27, 2003
Wow. I expected the antibiotics I've been on to help me out, but I didn't expect to feel so much better before I wake up tomorrow, or the next day for that matter. Like, 20 minutes ago, I sprang out of bed, sore throat, some stiffness, and headache cured, and possessed a hunger equal to that of a pot-smoking grizzly bear. I have, after all, not eaten much of anything in days, and now my body decided I need to fix that. Mmm. Muffins.
The road to recovery is slow and painful. The familiar headache of fever pounds if I turn my head in the wrong direction, moving my eyes to far to one side is agonizing. I haven't eaten too much in three days save a bagel or two and a sandwich. I'm stiff all over.
Nevertheless, I've got about 3000 milligrams of amoxicillin in me already, and I begin to feel better. Larkin is my best friend- Larkin and this box of anesthetic lozenges (which expired six years ago, but fuck, whatever has dyclonine). As long as I keep this cold rag on my forehead, my brain shouldn't melt from the fever. I'm not dizzy anymore. I did eat a half a bagel this morning, and unlike at dinner last night, I was not struck with dizziness, and I did not nearly lose consciousness. Things are looking up.
I hope to all that is powerful in this world that I'm better tomorrow. I'm dying to see Larkin again, yet I cannot make myself sociable in my hour of rejuvination. I can only sleep and take cold showers.
Nevertheless, I've got about 3000 milligrams of amoxicillin in me already, and I begin to feel better. Larkin is my best friend- Larkin and this box of anesthetic lozenges (which expired six years ago, but fuck, whatever has dyclonine). As long as I keep this cold rag on my forehead, my brain shouldn't melt from the fever. I'm not dizzy anymore. I did eat a half a bagel this morning, and unlike at dinner last night, I was not struck with dizziness, and I did not nearly lose consciousness. Things are looking up.
I hope to all that is powerful in this world that I'm better tomorrow. I'm dying to see Larkin again, yet I cannot make myself sociable in my hour of rejuvination. I can only sleep and take cold showers.
Saturday, July 26, 2003
So yeah, I'm still sick. I feel pretty much like distilled shit right now. But I dunno. It's not the actual sickness that gets to me so much as the fact that I can't do anything. Can't go and mow lawns with Mr.Morris today, so I won't make any money, can't go over to Rob's, can't go over to Callie Blankenship's to fix her computer! And there's still no Larkin. Isn't it weird how, if you focus enough, you can feel someone's touch, but not the warmth associated with it? Ah hell, I don't need anymore warmth right now. I'm in a t-shirt and shorts and I'm dying of heat stroke. But I could use the touch. Stupid fever... Stupid sickness... Stupid mother that, yesterday, said we didn't need to go to the doctor. So we couldn't get me in yesterday. Well, no shit! How about to-fucking-day? Nope, she doesn't take Larkin's advice to me to go to the doctor's. And now, I've got every single symptom Larkin described to me, and she said I should really get antibiotics for this. Ugh.
I need a hug :(
I need a hug :(
Friday, July 25, 2003
Ugh. I feel like I've contracted the consumption. Last night, when I got back from Kevin Lai's place, my swollen lymph node was the biggest ever and hurt a lot, and a spell of dizziness hit me like a ton of bricks. No thanks to mom for any recovery, as she inFUCKINGSISTS GOD DAMNIT MOTHER FUCKER on waking me up at noon, when I could probably sleep the whole day. God, I'm stiff. I'm afraid to crack my neck, because I think it will break. So I guess I can't do anything today. I miss Larkin, but I suppose even if I went out with her I'd probably fall over a lot and/or get her sick.
Larkin left this morning. I half expected a white flaming van to pull into my driveway at six, but instead, 'twas Mary, complete with expensive leather upholstery car and incredibly osmotic perfume. Man, that perfume is potent! It's really cool how sinus-clearingly fragrant it is. She'll lean over to say something to me, and it'll all sweep from her hair to my sinuses. You could smell her in a crowd of 500. It kinda brings back memories of doing stuff with her I guess, since she's always worn it.
So movie night was fun. The old Dune movie, and the beginning of some really terribly cheesy Kurt Russel kung fu movie. Does he have a mullet in every fucking one of his films? And there was some Halo, which I guess was kinda fun. It beats Kurt Russel. But I really don't like console FPS games. Not necessarily because of shitty graphics, or retarded, weird-looking guns, or unrealism, or even bad gameplay, but for the fact that the little joystick on the gorilla-size Microsoft controller is such a bitch to use! You know, it might be nice when Halo comes out for the PC. It's kind of a Tribesey game. Not only that, migration from console to the gracefully mouse compatible PC will bring a new concept to the game- AIMING.
So not a bad day overall. I decided to go with Mary rather than Rob because I haven't seen her in awhile, and there were gummy bears at Kevin Lai's house. The only thing missing was someone to cuddle with in that giant blue chair I sat in the whole time. I climbed on it in restlessness. Ah well, just a few days and she'll return... I have to get out and do something tomorrow, too.
So movie night was fun. The old Dune movie, and the beginning of some really terribly cheesy Kurt Russel kung fu movie. Does he have a mullet in every fucking one of his films? And there was some Halo, which I guess was kinda fun. It beats Kurt Russel. But I really don't like console FPS games. Not necessarily because of shitty graphics, or retarded, weird-looking guns, or unrealism, or even bad gameplay, but for the fact that the little joystick on the gorilla-size Microsoft controller is such a bitch to use! You know, it might be nice when Halo comes out for the PC. It's kind of a Tribesey game. Not only that, migration from console to the gracefully mouse compatible PC will bring a new concept to the game- AIMING.
So not a bad day overall. I decided to go with Mary rather than Rob because I haven't seen her in awhile, and there were gummy bears at Kevin Lai's house. The only thing missing was someone to cuddle with in that giant blue chair I sat in the whole time. I climbed on it in restlessness. Ah well, just a few days and she'll return... I have to get out and do something tomorrow, too.
Thursday, July 24, 2003
Gone!
She's gone. My little Larkin is growing up, becoming the academic queen of the universe. Off to Austin for more college seminars and whatnot, I shan't see her for perhaps six days.
Tears soaked her plaid dress and my corduroy pants. Is it so wrong to cry for someone you feel such emotion for? She'll be gone for a week. To the average person, it might even seem pathetic or silly. But I'm used to seeing Larkin every damn day. With nothing but AIM and tired SOAD mp3s beside me, I get really depressed when she's not around. It makes me so incredibly appreciative of what we have, and why it's such a rare thing, especially when it's mutual between two people. It's not pathetic. I'm in love, and I don't want none of this MSN dating advice's "Healthy Time Apart" bullshit! I never get tired of Larkin! "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" only applies to people who aren't completely satisfied with their relationships, and want to put some distance between themselves and lovers! I mean, sure, I'm going to knock her down with a hug when she gets back, but that doesn't make me more fond of her, it just makes me deprived!
But I did cry. It seems she's the only person I ever find such a surge of emotion to cry for. A hundred people are killed by a suicide bomber in Iraq, conjoined twins bleed to death during a operation, shit, thousands die and the WTC collapses, and I turn off the TV and go play Tribes. But my girlfriend leaves for a week, and I'm traumatized beyond any level imaginable. I cried for her leaving, for the future, for parental issues, for fucking anything. I almost enjoy crying, because I feel so much better afterwards. I cried for joy for everything I've got. I'm really getting nowhere with this post. I will say, in short, that I am practically unable to convey to anyone in written form what a fondness I possess for that blue-haired scholar.
So after breakfast this morning, Larkin and I returned to our homes to commit ourselves to household duties for awhile, and at 3 PM, went to go pick Jeremy up from work. Or, rather, follow him home on his bicycle. A fun time was had by all at the Howard household- Jeremy and I had two sparring matches with some bamboo bokkens. No fucking hand strikes anymore! I won a match, and so did he. My kendo rival!
Starbucks for coffee, then Army Surplus for dirty looks from war supporters, then Larkin's house to sit around and pet the cat, then Sweet Tomatoes for a salad, then Jeremy's again to watch Larkin rave and practice my snap kick. And actually, kicking helped me out a bit, as I'd been feeling a little sick to my stomach, but martial arts got my hydrochloric acid flowing again. Then back to my place to lie in each other's arms and whisper our goodbyes. A great day- a shame it will be my last to be chaffeured around in Larkin's van for awhile.
Tears soaked her plaid dress and my corduroy pants. Is it so wrong to cry for someone you feel such emotion for? She'll be gone for a week. To the average person, it might even seem pathetic or silly. But I'm used to seeing Larkin every damn day. With nothing but AIM and tired SOAD mp3s beside me, I get really depressed when she's not around. It makes me so incredibly appreciative of what we have, and why it's such a rare thing, especially when it's mutual between two people. It's not pathetic. I'm in love, and I don't want none of this MSN dating advice's "Healthy Time Apart" bullshit! I never get tired of Larkin! "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" only applies to people who aren't completely satisfied with their relationships, and want to put some distance between themselves and lovers! I mean, sure, I'm going to knock her down with a hug when she gets back, but that doesn't make me more fond of her, it just makes me deprived!
But I did cry. It seems she's the only person I ever find such a surge of emotion to cry for. A hundred people are killed by a suicide bomber in Iraq, conjoined twins bleed to death during a operation, shit, thousands die and the WTC collapses, and I turn off the TV and go play Tribes. But my girlfriend leaves for a week, and I'm traumatized beyond any level imaginable. I cried for her leaving, for the future, for parental issues, for fucking anything. I almost enjoy crying, because I feel so much better afterwards. I cried for joy for everything I've got. I'm really getting nowhere with this post. I will say, in short, that I am practically unable to convey to anyone in written form what a fondness I possess for that blue-haired scholar.
So after breakfast this morning, Larkin and I returned to our homes to commit ourselves to household duties for awhile, and at 3 PM, went to go pick Jeremy up from work. Or, rather, follow him home on his bicycle. A fun time was had by all at the Howard household- Jeremy and I had two sparring matches with some bamboo bokkens. No fucking hand strikes anymore! I won a match, and so did he. My kendo rival!
Starbucks for coffee, then Army Surplus for dirty looks from war supporters, then Larkin's house to sit around and pet the cat, then Sweet Tomatoes for a salad, then Jeremy's again to watch Larkin rave and practice my snap kick. And actually, kicking helped me out a bit, as I'd been feeling a little sick to my stomach, but martial arts got my hydrochloric acid flowing again. Then back to my place to lie in each other's arms and whisper our goodbyes. A great day- a shame it will be my last to be chaffeured around in Larkin's van for awhile.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
My Sleep Hurts
Ow. I woke up at 8:30 today. Eight-fucking-thirty. And I went to bed four hours before that. I feel very strange. A bit sick to my stomach, like I should eat something, but also like I shouldn't. I'm thinking peristalsis will tire me out too much. I dunno.
But, baggy eyes, blue hair and all, it was very worth it to wake up so early. I missed Larkin furiously last night, as my previous post illustrates, and I was a restless wraith, floating around my house until I finally passed out on my bed and stained my pillow a deep shade of violet. Larkin and I went out to Whataburger to see Jeremy and (try to) eat breakfast. Normally I would eat one of those egg and cheese breakfast sandwiches these fast food places have ravenously enough, but I feel quite dizzy today. There's a swollen lymph node in the left side of my jaw- it's all lumpy and hurts when I stretch my neck. I'm thinking I should really do some yoga. I started doing it a week or two ago, but got out of it due to laziness, lack of time, and some soreness that came from working out. I need to work out again, too. So much on the agenda..
And Larkin leaves tomorrow. For six days or so. I may die from lack of being touched. I dunno. I'm better at tolerating Larkin's trips to distant colleges now. I'll probably just hang out at Rob or Sterling's house a lot, and go hang out with a group of people. I'd like to see Julia. She seems to have been caged up for quite some time, and I think her, Rob, Todd and I are due for a trip to Starbucks.
But I'll miss her still. Nothing comforts me more than her company these days, and I've gotten so very addicted to it, that I drop off from a high when I come home and play silly computer games, and get somewhat depressed. I long to spend as much time with her as humanly possible. Especially before school starts. I have to work hard this year. I admire Larkin in all her progress regarding her future- I want to be like her in that aspect.
But, baggy eyes, blue hair and all, it was very worth it to wake up so early. I missed Larkin furiously last night, as my previous post illustrates, and I was a restless wraith, floating around my house until I finally passed out on my bed and stained my pillow a deep shade of violet. Larkin and I went out to Whataburger to see Jeremy and (try to) eat breakfast. Normally I would eat one of those egg and cheese breakfast sandwiches these fast food places have ravenously enough, but I feel quite dizzy today. There's a swollen lymph node in the left side of my jaw- it's all lumpy and hurts when I stretch my neck. I'm thinking I should really do some yoga. I started doing it a week or two ago, but got out of it due to laziness, lack of time, and some soreness that came from working out. I need to work out again, too. So much on the agenda..
And Larkin leaves tomorrow. For six days or so. I may die from lack of being touched. I dunno. I'm better at tolerating Larkin's trips to distant colleges now. I'll probably just hang out at Rob or Sterling's house a lot, and go hang out with a group of people. I'd like to see Julia. She seems to have been caged up for quite some time, and I think her, Rob, Todd and I are due for a trip to Starbucks.
But I'll miss her still. Nothing comforts me more than her company these days, and I've gotten so very addicted to it, that I drop off from a high when I come home and play silly computer games, and get somewhat depressed. I long to spend as much time with her as humanly possible. Especially before school starts. I have to work hard this year. I admire Larkin in all her progress regarding her future- I want to be like her in that aspect.
Despair. Matched by few other torments, a hollowness, an emptiness coarses through my being. I feel the need to run to my love's house, climb up into a window with my fingernails, and spend just one night asleep in familiar arms. Little comfort does the cold steel of this digital typewriter offer me. My only companions now are tired, old mp3s and distant communication through underground cables. I am alone in this dark cavern of old Dr.Pepper cans and unfolded, wrinkled clothing. The cat nudges my legs, looking for affection, but all I have is given to another. I can't sleep. Especially not now. I'm not tired, only restless. Is it so wrong to be so addicted to her company? No. Nothing is more right. Why aren't we old enough to live together? We're mature enough, and we never fight! Alas, once again I think of the future. Oh well. A mere mosquito, occasionally inserting its plague-ridden proboscis into my joyful world.
On a much less disparaging note, I had a wonderful time with Larkin today. Our first stop was the Hot Topic at the Woodlands mall. For the price of one bottle of Blue-Haired Freak dye, we obtained, on sale, four bottles of Blue Velvet to later apply to my hair. It had faded back to blonde! Unacceptable. Especially since we're still in the midst of summer, and there are no administrators to bitch at me. Returning to my home for application, we made my hair a wonderful shade of indigo. Potent shit, that dye! Amazing! After thorough rinsing and scrubbing, my ears, neck, chest and back still remain a shade of blue! Unless I want to use rubbing alcohol anytime soon, I suppose I shall simply have to wait until that layer of skin sheds. But the hair, the hair! It looks spectacular. I am so satisfied with it, and thank Larkin INFINITELY for the killer application, and purchase of dye.
After a nice pasta dinner, we stopped by Larkin's to pick up a bottle of Vidal Sassoon spray-on stuff that will help keep the blue in my hair before going for a walk in the woods. It seems we walked in on a bit of an emotional moment between Ari, Liz, and Larkin's dad. How unpleasant. Luckily, it was just wrapping up, and dad left, carrying Liz and the discomfoting aura with him. Ari sobbed when discovering my hair's color! I hope it's not that bad... I thank Larkin's mom, however, for assisting in the removal of some of the dye from my ears and neck. I looked very oxygen-starved.
I love walking in the backwoods by Terranova West with Larkin. We have a wonderful time exploring everything, and this time, it was pitch black by the time we decided to turn back towards the van's parking spot. It was great fun walking around in the dark, nearly losing the path several times, startled by every sound in the woods. Spooky, and shit. But despite fear of being attacked by coyotes, we made it back to our vehicle safely, and went off to Starbucks. It was nice to see Stan there, and with some new red hair to boot. He seems to be doing much better- at least he has somewhere to live now. Things are looking up.
Coming back to my house, Larkin and I sat around and spoke of different things, ranging from legalized dueling to the knife shop in the mall to modern Satanism. How intellectually fulfilling she is! I couldn't be happier with anyone else. But she had to leave far too early. I miss her tonight to the point of depression. I don't know what it is. I'm addicted to her company like a crackwhore.
On a much less disparaging note, I had a wonderful time with Larkin today. Our first stop was the Hot Topic at the Woodlands mall. For the price of one bottle of Blue-Haired Freak dye, we obtained, on sale, four bottles of Blue Velvet to later apply to my hair. It had faded back to blonde! Unacceptable. Especially since we're still in the midst of summer, and there are no administrators to bitch at me. Returning to my home for application, we made my hair a wonderful shade of indigo. Potent shit, that dye! Amazing! After thorough rinsing and scrubbing, my ears, neck, chest and back still remain a shade of blue! Unless I want to use rubbing alcohol anytime soon, I suppose I shall simply have to wait until that layer of skin sheds. But the hair, the hair! It looks spectacular. I am so satisfied with it, and thank Larkin INFINITELY for the killer application, and purchase of dye.
After a nice pasta dinner, we stopped by Larkin's to pick up a bottle of Vidal Sassoon spray-on stuff that will help keep the blue in my hair before going for a walk in the woods. It seems we walked in on a bit of an emotional moment between Ari, Liz, and Larkin's dad. How unpleasant. Luckily, it was just wrapping up, and dad left, carrying Liz and the discomfoting aura with him. Ari sobbed when discovering my hair's color! I hope it's not that bad... I thank Larkin's mom, however, for assisting in the removal of some of the dye from my ears and neck. I looked very oxygen-starved.
I love walking in the backwoods by Terranova West with Larkin. We have a wonderful time exploring everything, and this time, it was pitch black by the time we decided to turn back towards the van's parking spot. It was great fun walking around in the dark, nearly losing the path several times, startled by every sound in the woods. Spooky, and shit. But despite fear of being attacked by coyotes, we made it back to our vehicle safely, and went off to Starbucks. It was nice to see Stan there, and with some new red hair to boot. He seems to be doing much better- at least he has somewhere to live now. Things are looking up.
Coming back to my house, Larkin and I sat around and spoke of different things, ranging from legalized dueling to the knife shop in the mall to modern Satanism. How intellectually fulfilling she is! I couldn't be happier with anyone else. But she had to leave far too early. I miss her tonight to the point of depression. I don't know what it is. I'm addicted to her company like a crackwhore.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Phallic Parking Brake Stick of WRATH
Well, here I am again. Still awake 40 minutes after midnight, basking in scraps of happiness I've got left from Larkin's visit. A day, today, with some negative events, but it turned out alright at the end.
At four or so, Larkin was freed from the chaos of her unstable household as well as the doctor's office (Larkin felt a lymph infection coming on, so she went down to see the nice men in labcoats and get a syringe in her salivary glands- traumatizing shit), so we decided to go out for a nice walk in the backwoods- some new, recently discovered area she'd been wanting to show me. As it was a long walk from our typical parking spot to this new woodland hideout, we went down a half a mile or so and parked in a grassy alcove on the side of the road. Unsure of the legality of this move, Larkin turned the wheels sideways and pulled the parking brake up. The stubborn mechanical bastard didn't go up all the way, and became stuck- as well as the ignition. So we were stuck in the hellish humid heat, keys wouldn't turn, brakes wouldn't let off. I've gotta have my dad look at her car. After a nervous breakdown and an assessment of our situation, I resolved to do the most grunty, manly, simple and stupid thing to fix the situation- pull. Thank the heavenly bodies I work out with Shawn and Sterling- the damn thing came loose and went back down, and after a shriek, a rain dance, and a few blood sacrifices from Larkin and I, the ignition in the poor van turned, and we felt secure enough in the working order of our vehicle to go hiking. After climbing a tree or two, we headed back to Larkin's to cool down, and then to Little Japon for some spicy tuna.
Good sushi, that. Rob and Amy stopped by after seeing the flaming van to chat with us. We finished eating, Larkin constructed a swastika out of wasabi and shrimp tails, and headed over to Starbucks to meet our movie crew. But, despite the invitation from the guys to go see X2 (a-fucking-gain, it would've been the third time for me), Larkin and I bailed out to go rest at my place. After being mixed up in parental arguments, painful medical treatments, and annoying-as-hell car troubles in 98% humidity 96 degree weather, Larkin was pretty emotionally drained, and was unable to be the witty, sociable creature she usually is. I'm glad we came back. I seem to be able to help Larkin out a lot with what troubles her, and besides, I'd seen the movie too many times anyway (and Kevin Che irritates me).
But like I said, the day ended well- Larkin's spirit was renewed and we were able to talk normally and tell really bad jokes to each other as we usually do. I enjoy our company together, no matter what we do. I care not if she becomes homeless, diagnosed with a terminal illness, or emotionally unstable due to family matters. I love her as I've never loved anything before, and the last thing I'll do to her is leave her to cry herself to sleep in her car. Hell, if all I have to do is keep Larkin happy and cheer her up once in awhile, then my life has become a dream.
So I haven't mentioned this to anyone but Larkin, but I'm considering becoming a Satanist. After reading quite a bit about the whole doctrine, I've become very interested in it, and ordered a copy of Anton Szander LaVey's Satanist's Bible. John's become a devil-worshipper, has he? No, that's not it. Whatever ignorant, devout Christian bible thumping readers I may have bailed out on me several sentences ago. Modern Satanism isn't about eating babies or blood sacrifices. It's about common fucking sense. It's about creating a new justice system that doesn't make humans feel guilty for having fun just because God says fun isn't allowed. It's about worshipping the self. It's about Satan, but not as a little red devil with a pitchfork, as a symbol for humans and their "sinful" ways. It's about abolishing ignorance and useless prayer, and bigotry. I'll tell you what it's not about- it is definitely not about falling back on 2000 year-old scripture to define a way of life, and I quote,
"The Satanist realizes that man, and the action and reaction of the universe, is responsible for everything, and doesn't mislead himself into thinking that someone cares. No longer will we sit back and accept 'fate' without doing anything about it, just because it says so in Chapter such and such, Psalm so and so- and that's that!"
Very, very sensible shit, so far. Of course, there are rituals, and just like Paganism or Wicca, it attracts fickle teenagers that just like to do magic tricks. But as I discuss this with Larkin, I take her advice and realize that all religions need a physical activity of some sort to reinforce their doctrines, whether it be collecting money for a fundraiser, or calling upon Lucifer for advice! It all comes together. The illusion of divine intervention, and the religion that's about everything except that.
At four or so, Larkin was freed from the chaos of her unstable household as well as the doctor's office (Larkin felt a lymph infection coming on, so she went down to see the nice men in labcoats and get a syringe in her salivary glands- traumatizing shit), so we decided to go out for a nice walk in the backwoods- some new, recently discovered area she'd been wanting to show me. As it was a long walk from our typical parking spot to this new woodland hideout, we went down a half a mile or so and parked in a grassy alcove on the side of the road. Unsure of the legality of this move, Larkin turned the wheels sideways and pulled the parking brake up. The stubborn mechanical bastard didn't go up all the way, and became stuck- as well as the ignition. So we were stuck in the hellish humid heat, keys wouldn't turn, brakes wouldn't let off. I've gotta have my dad look at her car. After a nervous breakdown and an assessment of our situation, I resolved to do the most grunty, manly, simple and stupid thing to fix the situation- pull. Thank the heavenly bodies I work out with Shawn and Sterling- the damn thing came loose and went back down, and after a shriek, a rain dance, and a few blood sacrifices from Larkin and I, the ignition in the poor van turned, and we felt secure enough in the working order of our vehicle to go hiking. After climbing a tree or two, we headed back to Larkin's to cool down, and then to Little Japon for some spicy tuna.
Good sushi, that. Rob and Amy stopped by after seeing the flaming van to chat with us. We finished eating, Larkin constructed a swastika out of wasabi and shrimp tails, and headed over to Starbucks to meet our movie crew. But, despite the invitation from the guys to go see X2 (a-fucking-gain, it would've been the third time for me), Larkin and I bailed out to go rest at my place. After being mixed up in parental arguments, painful medical treatments, and annoying-as-hell car troubles in 98% humidity 96 degree weather, Larkin was pretty emotionally drained, and was unable to be the witty, sociable creature she usually is. I'm glad we came back. I seem to be able to help Larkin out a lot with what troubles her, and besides, I'd seen the movie too many times anyway (and Kevin Che irritates me).
But like I said, the day ended well- Larkin's spirit was renewed and we were able to talk normally and tell really bad jokes to each other as we usually do. I enjoy our company together, no matter what we do. I care not if she becomes homeless, diagnosed with a terminal illness, or emotionally unstable due to family matters. I love her as I've never loved anything before, and the last thing I'll do to her is leave her to cry herself to sleep in her car. Hell, if all I have to do is keep Larkin happy and cheer her up once in awhile, then my life has become a dream.
So I haven't mentioned this to anyone but Larkin, but I'm considering becoming a Satanist. After reading quite a bit about the whole doctrine, I've become very interested in it, and ordered a copy of Anton Szander LaVey's Satanist's Bible. John's become a devil-worshipper, has he? No, that's not it. Whatever ignorant, devout Christian bible thumping readers I may have bailed out on me several sentences ago. Modern Satanism isn't about eating babies or blood sacrifices. It's about common fucking sense. It's about creating a new justice system that doesn't make humans feel guilty for having fun just because God says fun isn't allowed. It's about worshipping the self. It's about Satan, but not as a little red devil with a pitchfork, as a symbol for humans and their "sinful" ways. It's about abolishing ignorance and useless prayer, and bigotry. I'll tell you what it's not about- it is definitely not about falling back on 2000 year-old scripture to define a way of life, and I quote,
"The Satanist realizes that man, and the action and reaction of the universe, is responsible for everything, and doesn't mislead himself into thinking that someone cares. No longer will we sit back and accept 'fate' without doing anything about it, just because it says so in Chapter such and such, Psalm so and so- and that's that!"
Very, very sensible shit, so far. Of course, there are rituals, and just like Paganism or Wicca, it attracts fickle teenagers that just like to do magic tricks. But as I discuss this with Larkin, I take her advice and realize that all religions need a physical activity of some sort to reinforce their doctrines, whether it be collecting money for a fundraiser, or calling upon Lucifer for advice! It all comes together. The illusion of divine intervention, and the religion that's about everything except that.
Monday, July 21, 2003
Downtown
You know, Houston is really a kickass city if you've got air conditioning and someone to go see it with. Today, Larkin and I had a big adventure in downtown Houston, risking life and limb on the highways to see the spectacles of the city. And boy, was it fun.
So, while killing time waiting for an exhibition to open, we walked over to the Contemporary Museum of Art and looked at this astronomer's poetic, spherical astronomy journal- it consisted of four or five paper spheres, with sketched skies and scribbled notes enscribed on the surface with pen. To a nearsighted, person, it looks like the worst exhibition in the world from far away, but it was really neat once we got up close.
Three o'clock came around eventually, which meant it was time to head over to the Museum of Natural Science to tour their butterfly dome. Were I forced to choose, I'd call the butterfly exhibition my favorite event. The colors those little guys come in! It's amazing! Exotic, opalescent blue-winged insects landed on my forehead and Larkin's bag until we left to go look at the dead bugs. What a collection of specimens they have there!
And speaking of opalescent specimens, we then went to the rocks and minerals hall to look at shiny crystals of all sorts. I love rocks. I really do. They're so... shiny, and transparent, and geometric... What fun!
Five o'clock, and it was time for the IMAX movie. It was supposed to be something about the tyrannosaurus rex and palentology, but it turned out to be the crappiest (and noisiest) Disney-like soap opera ever. You do not use a screen the size of a football field to tell about a teenage girl's neglectful parents. It's against the fucking rules. The girl opened the locket with the picture of her mother and father, and then that was it. We gave it a chance, we watched some cool sweeps across some Canadian desert, but we want a mother fucking documentary, not a Greek tragedy!
So we left, walked around, browsed a sculpture garden, and went out to Boba Yega's for dinner. I've really got to say that I'm the luckiest person I've ever heard of. I looked over at Larkin as the waiter minion brought me my yellow fin tuna steak, and realized that no one else my age would ever even think about doing this shit with me. Who the hell else would take me to the Houston museums and then out to dinner at some little humble yet wonderful restaurant on Montrose? I'm so lucky to have a girlfriend with some culture. The fact that she's stunningly sexy in a revealing outfit and possesses a nice head of blue hair is just a bonus.
Back at Larkin's, we put the takeout box I had in her fridge, sat around for a minute with a cup of tea, and escaped her father in favor of a walk in the park. So after that, she came over here, I beat her at LETRES and massaged her shoulders (exhausted from freeway driving), and sent her home.
So ends another one of the best days of my life. GLEE
So, while killing time waiting for an exhibition to open, we walked over to the Contemporary Museum of Art and looked at this astronomer's poetic, spherical astronomy journal- it consisted of four or five paper spheres, with sketched skies and scribbled notes enscribed on the surface with pen. To a nearsighted, person, it looks like the worst exhibition in the world from far away, but it was really neat once we got up close.
Three o'clock came around eventually, which meant it was time to head over to the Museum of Natural Science to tour their butterfly dome. Were I forced to choose, I'd call the butterfly exhibition my favorite event. The colors those little guys come in! It's amazing! Exotic, opalescent blue-winged insects landed on my forehead and Larkin's bag until we left to go look at the dead bugs. What a collection of specimens they have there!
And speaking of opalescent specimens, we then went to the rocks and minerals hall to look at shiny crystals of all sorts. I love rocks. I really do. They're so... shiny, and transparent, and geometric... What fun!
Five o'clock, and it was time for the IMAX movie. It was supposed to be something about the tyrannosaurus rex and palentology, but it turned out to be the crappiest (and noisiest) Disney-like soap opera ever. You do not use a screen the size of a football field to tell about a teenage girl's neglectful parents. It's against the fucking rules. The girl opened the locket with the picture of her mother and father, and then that was it. We gave it a chance, we watched some cool sweeps across some Canadian desert, but we want a mother fucking documentary, not a Greek tragedy!
So we left, walked around, browsed a sculpture garden, and went out to Boba Yega's for dinner. I've really got to say that I'm the luckiest person I've ever heard of. I looked over at Larkin as the waiter minion brought me my yellow fin tuna steak, and realized that no one else my age would ever even think about doing this shit with me. Who the hell else would take me to the Houston museums and then out to dinner at some little humble yet wonderful restaurant on Montrose? I'm so lucky to have a girlfriend with some culture. The fact that she's stunningly sexy in a revealing outfit and possesses a nice head of blue hair is just a bonus.
Back at Larkin's, we put the takeout box I had in her fridge, sat around for a minute with a cup of tea, and escaped her father in favor of a walk in the park. So after that, she came over here, I beat her at LETRES and massaged her shoulders (exhausted from freeway driving), and sent her home.
So ends another one of the best days of my life. GLEE
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Yes!/Shit!
What a day. Of mixed things. Mr.Morris came and got me in the early afternoon to come help him mow lawns- five or six hours of exhaustion later, I made forty bucks, ate a sandwich, took a shower, donned all black, and departed with Larkin to Starbucks; I needed a venti caffeine shake.
It's amazing the healing powers a quart of cafe Verona and your girlfriend can have on you. I came home feeling like I had stress fractures in my shoulders and legs, but after seeing Larkin's face and a bottle of aspirin, I forgot it all. I feel great. I mowed four lawns today and I still feel like staying up until four AM. What the hell is it with my metabolism? I've got to have some weird disorder. I'll do something extremely strenuous, sit around for half an hour, and feel like playing street hockey! Shit, I only got four hours of sleep last night too. I think I run on caffeine, adrenaline, affection, and a 6000-calorie diet consisting of healthy Asian food, and a few hundred sandwiches per day. And meat. My dad cooks lots of meat. But I feel great. I suppose I'm just in good shape.
And speaking of adrenaline, Larkin's dad came home early tonight whilst we were sitting around her room. Not that anything sinful was going on, but her father, being the fat, conservative, ignoramus of a (financially supportive) bastard he is, disproves of anything between the two of anyone closer than a hug, and would've positively chewed our asses off with a wood chipper had he found the both of us in her bedroom. Oh, how unorthodox! Children touching each other!
So anyhow, Cameron created a nice distraction downstairs, I slipped my shoes on and proceeded to sneak out the front door with Larkin like a burger-flipping ninja. Problem is, Larkin's house is about as clean as mine, and I'm blind as a bat in darkness, so I kicked an aluminum can lying on the welcome mat into the wall. Thank Shiva's manicure specialist the old man wasn't distracted. Blame the noise on the cat. But man, am I scared of Larkin's dad. It's true. I'm a knife-toting ponytailed cyclist, and I hate the man with the hate of a thousand hateful thingies, but I still have to maintain at least indifferent relations with him. The last thing I want to do is be exiled from the Dennis household (and Larkin's life) whenever dad's home. So upon leaving, enough adrenaline was released in my bloodstream to push Larkin's van to my house. I trembled for half an hour. How I hate the feeling.
But, that didn't make today a bad day. We came back to my place, watched some really hilariously fucked up flash movies, and played a bit of LETRES. Larkin returned home and to her computer relatively unscathed (her dad bitched at her for having blue hair). All is well.
It's amazing the healing powers a quart of cafe Verona and your girlfriend can have on you. I came home feeling like I had stress fractures in my shoulders and legs, but after seeing Larkin's face and a bottle of aspirin, I forgot it all. I feel great. I mowed four lawns today and I still feel like staying up until four AM. What the hell is it with my metabolism? I've got to have some weird disorder. I'll do something extremely strenuous, sit around for half an hour, and feel like playing street hockey! Shit, I only got four hours of sleep last night too. I think I run on caffeine, adrenaline, affection, and a 6000-calorie diet consisting of healthy Asian food, and a few hundred sandwiches per day. And meat. My dad cooks lots of meat. But I feel great. I suppose I'm just in good shape.
And speaking of adrenaline, Larkin's dad came home early tonight whilst we were sitting around her room. Not that anything sinful was going on, but her father, being the fat, conservative, ignoramus of a (financially supportive) bastard he is, disproves of anything between the two of anyone closer than a hug, and would've positively chewed our asses off with a wood chipper had he found the both of us in her bedroom. Oh, how unorthodox! Children touching each other!
So anyhow, Cameron created a nice distraction downstairs, I slipped my shoes on and proceeded to sneak out the front door with Larkin like a burger-flipping ninja. Problem is, Larkin's house is about as clean as mine, and I'm blind as a bat in darkness, so I kicked an aluminum can lying on the welcome mat into the wall. Thank Shiva's manicure specialist the old man wasn't distracted. Blame the noise on the cat. But man, am I scared of Larkin's dad. It's true. I'm a knife-toting ponytailed cyclist, and I hate the man with the hate of a thousand hateful thingies, but I still have to maintain at least indifferent relations with him. The last thing I want to do is be exiled from the Dennis household (and Larkin's life) whenever dad's home. So upon leaving, enough adrenaline was released in my bloodstream to push Larkin's van to my house. I trembled for half an hour. How I hate the feeling.
But, that didn't make today a bad day. We came back to my place, watched some really hilariously fucked up flash movies, and played a bit of LETRES. Larkin returned home and to her computer relatively unscathed (her dad bitched at her for having blue hair). All is well.
Saturday, July 19, 2003
There's so much ignorance in the world. Yeah, I'm talking about religion again. So sue me. But I hate it. No one today takes a step out of his own perspective to look at the big picture. No. That'd be too logical. The human race has evolved and multiplied into a hoarde of dumbasses, ever since some neanderthal looked up at the moon, fell to his knees and worshipped it. No one realizes that they base their faith completely on what they were taught since they were old enough to, well, eat, what they read in a book of fairy tales, what some old guy preached to their families every Sunday. Religion is unnecessary, it causes pain and strife and maybe a few clothing donations, and no one can see it.
One nation under god my ASS. I've never considered that little pledge of allegiance issue, and now, I really am pissed about it. Why are we still saying that, when America in the first place is supposed to be a huge blend of culture and religion? What the fuck about Jehovah or Allah? Mother fuckers! President Bush said in 1987, the year I was born, that atheists shouldn't be considered citizens! It's atrocity to civilization, this worshipping, it is.
One nation under god my ASS. I've never considered that little pledge of allegiance issue, and now, I really am pissed about it. Why are we still saying that, when America in the first place is supposed to be a huge blend of culture and religion? What the fuck about Jehovah or Allah? Mother fuckers! President Bush said in 1987, the year I was born, that atheists shouldn't be considered citizens! It's atrocity to civilization, this worshipping, it is.
Carwash Cuisine
Today, Larkin and I stopped at the local self-serve carwash to, well, wash the van. I gladly helped of course- I ride in that thing all the time, so I should at least help clean it up- but Larkin was nice enough to treat me to ice cream afterwards. By the time we'd finished eating, it was time to go home and bring Larkin into a rare event: that of fashioning a homemade pizza with my dear ol' dad. Fun stuff, that. Cuttin up stuff, squishin all the spinach juice out of spinach, lookin all impressive in front of Larkin, cuttin up stuff, sharpening knives, and cuttin up stuff. And we make a kickass pizza.
I feel weird. It's a great feeling. Almost disbelief that Larkin and I are still, well, together. Not because of any of our qualities, just because of my past relationships. It's hard to believe that we're more in love than ever after more than four months, which doesn't seem like a long time, and yet, it does. It's really cool. Oh, that's right. The future.
Larkin wrote about her concerns for our relationship in the future, and it's something I'd like to touch on as well. The future creeps on us. It's extending little, slimey green tendrils into my mind and injecting me with fear of losing Larkin. It seems silly, doesn't it? We've still got another school year before she'll be going off to college- but with all the trips she's taking, and the applications she'll be sending off in the fall, it's on our minds a lot these days. It's a lot to think about. What does the future hold in store for us? Right now, locked in this present bliss, how can I possibly imagine an entire senior year without that beautiful creature at my side? More than that! Will our greater paths eventually seperate us? It seems the fate for all teenage lovers, and looking at others, though not ourselves, it almost seems futile- that the real world will someday tear so many couples apart. But Christ, I don't know. And I don't know why it haunts me so. I know I'll always be Larkin's friend. But as I said before- I'm in love with her now. Deeply. It saturates my every cell. How can I say I'll be happy if we leave each other to become pen pals, looking into the future from a biased perspective?
Ah, hell. I try to live in the present, but it's not like it's impossible to be together with anyone after high school. I say, let's go to Washington University, ride bicycles around the campus, and buy bagels! We'll conquer the world! Oh, and buy a helicopter. And a black Harley. And then move to Tokyo.
I feel weird. It's a great feeling. Almost disbelief that Larkin and I are still, well, together. Not because of any of our qualities, just because of my past relationships. It's hard to believe that we're more in love than ever after more than four months, which doesn't seem like a long time, and yet, it does. It's really cool. Oh, that's right. The future.
Larkin wrote about her concerns for our relationship in the future, and it's something I'd like to touch on as well. The future creeps on us. It's extending little, slimey green tendrils into my mind and injecting me with fear of losing Larkin. It seems silly, doesn't it? We've still got another school year before she'll be going off to college- but with all the trips she's taking, and the applications she'll be sending off in the fall, it's on our minds a lot these days. It's a lot to think about. What does the future hold in store for us? Right now, locked in this present bliss, how can I possibly imagine an entire senior year without that beautiful creature at my side? More than that! Will our greater paths eventually seperate us? It seems the fate for all teenage lovers, and looking at others, though not ourselves, it almost seems futile- that the real world will someday tear so many couples apart. But Christ, I don't know. And I don't know why it haunts me so. I know I'll always be Larkin's friend. But as I said before- I'm in love with her now. Deeply. It saturates my every cell. How can I say I'll be happy if we leave each other to become pen pals, looking into the future from a biased perspective?
Ah, hell. I try to live in the present, but it's not like it's impossible to be together with anyone after high school. I say, let's go to Washington University, ride bicycles around the campus, and buy bagels! We'll conquer the world! Oh, and buy a helicopter. And a black Harley. And then move to Tokyo.
Friday, July 18, 2003
Thursday, July 17, 2003
White pepper ice cream- is it sweet, or spicy?
White pepper ice cream- it's all the same to me.
I'll make this concise, because I need to get to bed and mow my backyard tomorrow. I had an allright day. Larkin, as usual, made it far above tolerable. Before I saw her, however, I sort of lurched around the house, took frequent catnaps, and tried to stretch out some of my muscles. I'm all sore from working out, and now my legs are sore, too. I dunno what it is with me. I'm all, like, physically active and shit. These workouts with Sterling and Shawn are really improving my strength and overall muscular definition too, if I may say so. Maybe my legs are sore from running in the park... Sigh. I'm tired.
So Larkin and I watched Ravenous this evening- a nice movie about, you guessed it- cannibals. And everybody loves cannibals! I mean, I do. They're hilarious. All eatin each other and shit. Anyway, great movie.
I was reading through an AIM conversation between Larkin and I I saved, circa 4.5 months ago. Right before Larkin and I started dating. God damn, we were flirtatious.
Child of Mists: we should like, um, totally hang out. Or like, whatever
JohnH778: we totally should
I remember every heartbeat that I felt when I typed those three words. I wanted to put them in bold italics and increase the font size to, like, a million. It was a silly little flirtsy thing, but I meant it in all caps with a giant period. Like, YES. LET'S GO OUT. Please?
And four months later, here we are. Amazing.
White pepper ice cream- it's all the same to me.
I'll make this concise, because I need to get to bed and mow my backyard tomorrow. I had an allright day. Larkin, as usual, made it far above tolerable. Before I saw her, however, I sort of lurched around the house, took frequent catnaps, and tried to stretch out some of my muscles. I'm all sore from working out, and now my legs are sore, too. I dunno what it is with me. I'm all, like, physically active and shit. These workouts with Sterling and Shawn are really improving my strength and overall muscular definition too, if I may say so. Maybe my legs are sore from running in the park... Sigh. I'm tired.
So Larkin and I watched Ravenous this evening- a nice movie about, you guessed it- cannibals. And everybody loves cannibals! I mean, I do. They're hilarious. All eatin each other and shit. Anyway, great movie.
I was reading through an AIM conversation between Larkin and I I saved, circa 4.5 months ago. Right before Larkin and I started dating. God damn, we were flirtatious.
Child of Mists: we should like, um, totally hang out. Or like, whatever
JohnH778: we totally should
I remember every heartbeat that I felt when I typed those three words. I wanted to put them in bold italics and increase the font size to, like, a million. It was a silly little flirtsy thing, but I meant it in all caps with a giant period. Like, YES. LET'S GO OUT. Please?
And four months later, here we are. Amazing.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
The Shit
OW. Most every muscle fiber in my arms, my shoulders, and my chest is filled with lactic acid. It's all leaking out of the muscle cells and being all corrosive or something. Yeah. I'm sore, in other words. Another big workout day with Sterling and Shawn- I am becoming one buff son of a bitch. I swear though, it's cool! I love being in good shape! You can do shit, like jump around everywhere and sprint really fast and walk all Legolas balance-style over big pipes across a creek!
So yeah. A nice day with Larkin I had today, after workout and swimming at Shawn's. I actually made some money this morning installed my neighbor's DSL modem, and so I was able to actually buy Larkin some coffee at Starbucks. The both of us hadn't eaten, and I'm now a whore for protein to regenerate my overtaxed muscle fibers, so Larkin bought me a tuna sandwich at Subway, and we ate outside. Just because I'm really enjoying this concept, I let me new, super-awesome blue-black-dark brown-silvery hair down (I haven't though of a name for the color it is yet) and let it whip around in the wind, induced by this damn hurricane that just nearly missed us. Damnit! I wanted a nice thunderstorm! But yes. I'm ecstatic about my new, temporary look. It's just so different! I love dark hair, and now I've got some. Do check out the pictures on the previous post, if you haven't seen me recently.
I'm tired as all that is undead and decaying. But fuck it. In light of Larkin's idea, I'm going to compose a list of the inanimate objects I love most.
1.Larkin's van. My flaming slipgate to the world.
2.Knives.
3.Dr.Pepper.
4.Those flower candies they sell at the Asian market.
5.Tea. Any kind. From the sweetest jasmine green tea to the most fucked up blend of artichokes and balsam apples- I love brewed hot drinks.
6.And coffee. Where would mankind be without its ultimate wakeup ability and awesomeness?
7.My computer. It's a nice escape for when I'm bored these days, or waiting for Larkin to get home. My life kicks a lot of ass now, and I have friends that I hang out with often, so I'm not quite as much a computer zombie as I was some time ago. Plus, I've got an unruly shitload of music on it.
8.My blog. Sure, it's a bunch of digital bits and bytes, but it's my baby. I archived it in word awhile ago, and it was about 76 pages in 6 pt. font. It's a wonderful tool for tracing the progress of my teenage life.
9.My story. Yes, the thing about Jim the Karate Florist. I haven't worked on it in quite some time, and sure, it's no masterpiece, but I like having something at least "in the works". I've never really written any stories, and so I've had fun making up my characters and plot. Someday I'll finish it. Someday.
10.My new wallet. It is fucking awesome. It jangles when I walk!
11.Roses. I love flowers and their crazy phototropic tilts toward sunlight.
12.Sandwiches. Ah, 9-grain wheat bread, you are my only friend. I could eat a bread sandwich made out of you.
13.My hair. Yeah, I love it. And not just now because it's blue. I've always loved it, no matter what the fuck people have said about it- it represents something outrageously different about me, in the midst of a majority of short, spiky-haired (with bleach... ugh!) Christian masses. I'm pretty sure I'd have zero authority if I didn't have it.
14.My speakers! I rattle my mothers lamps downstairs with my subwoofer!
15.My clothing. Most of it, anyhow. At least the stuff you see me wear. I am so happy with the mini-style I've developed for myself, which is relatively unique- the whole button-down work shirt thing, with the khaki cargo pants. And now it is complete, with my chain wallet and bluish hair.
16.My bed. It's where I pass out at three to four A.M.
17.My glasses. Well, for the most part. If I ever actually want to see something sharply. I sort of prefer everything nice and nearsightedly blurry these days- the world's more of a flowing, vague dream than a detailed, high-res lithograph that way. I'm glad my vision went to hell at puberty.
18.My sunglasses. And yes, I know they're broken, but imma get some new ones I saw at target, that have silver frames, won't rip my hair out when I take them off, and aren't FALLING A-FUCKING-PART like the ones at Gadzooks! Never buy sunglasses there. Ever.
19.My poetry. I've got the copies of those things I gave Larkin all folded up in a drawer, along with her letters to me. And now I've got em all digitized and archived on my computer. Quite a collection, actually- I must've written about 25 at least towards the end of the school year.
20.The Chibo Matto CD Larkin burned for me. It's the only thing I can listen to in Linux. And I likes it.
21.That reverend coat they sell at Hot Topic. I'm getting that Marble Slab job. I'm getting it, I'm getting 80 dollars, and I am buying one of those motherfucking coats.
I can't think of much else right now, actually. But yeah, that's a general idea of shit I like.
So yeah. A nice day with Larkin I had today, after workout and swimming at Shawn's. I actually made some money this morning installed my neighbor's DSL modem, and so I was able to actually buy Larkin some coffee at Starbucks. The both of us hadn't eaten, and I'm now a whore for protein to regenerate my overtaxed muscle fibers, so Larkin bought me a tuna sandwich at Subway, and we ate outside. Just because I'm really enjoying this concept, I let me new, super-awesome blue-black-dark brown-silvery hair down (I haven't though of a name for the color it is yet) and let it whip around in the wind, induced by this damn hurricane that just nearly missed us. Damnit! I wanted a nice thunderstorm! But yes. I'm ecstatic about my new, temporary look. It's just so different! I love dark hair, and now I've got some. Do check out the pictures on the previous post, if you haven't seen me recently.
I'm tired as all that is undead and decaying. But fuck it. In light of Larkin's idea, I'm going to compose a list of the inanimate objects I love most.
1.Larkin's van. My flaming slipgate to the world.
2.Knives.
3.Dr.Pepper.
4.Those flower candies they sell at the Asian market.
5.Tea. Any kind. From the sweetest jasmine green tea to the most fucked up blend of artichokes and balsam apples- I love brewed hot drinks.
6.And coffee. Where would mankind be without its ultimate wakeup ability and awesomeness?
7.My computer. It's a nice escape for when I'm bored these days, or waiting for Larkin to get home. My life kicks a lot of ass now, and I have friends that I hang out with often, so I'm not quite as much a computer zombie as I was some time ago. Plus, I've got an unruly shitload of music on it.
8.My blog. Sure, it's a bunch of digital bits and bytes, but it's my baby. I archived it in word awhile ago, and it was about 76 pages in 6 pt. font. It's a wonderful tool for tracing the progress of my teenage life.
9.My story. Yes, the thing about Jim the Karate Florist. I haven't worked on it in quite some time, and sure, it's no masterpiece, but I like having something at least "in the works". I've never really written any stories, and so I've had fun making up my characters and plot. Someday I'll finish it. Someday.
10.My new wallet. It is fucking awesome. It jangles when I walk!
11.Roses. I love flowers and their crazy phototropic tilts toward sunlight.
12.Sandwiches. Ah, 9-grain wheat bread, you are my only friend. I could eat a bread sandwich made out of you.
13.My hair. Yeah, I love it. And not just now because it's blue. I've always loved it, no matter what the fuck people have said about it- it represents something outrageously different about me, in the midst of a majority of short, spiky-haired (with bleach... ugh!) Christian masses. I'm pretty sure I'd have zero authority if I didn't have it.
14.My speakers! I rattle my mothers lamps downstairs with my subwoofer!
15.My clothing. Most of it, anyhow. At least the stuff you see me wear. I am so happy with the mini-style I've developed for myself, which is relatively unique- the whole button-down work shirt thing, with the khaki cargo pants. And now it is complete, with my chain wallet and bluish hair.
16.My bed. It's where I pass out at three to four A.M.
17.My glasses. Well, for the most part. If I ever actually want to see something sharply. I sort of prefer everything nice and nearsightedly blurry these days- the world's more of a flowing, vague dream than a detailed, high-res lithograph that way. I'm glad my vision went to hell at puberty.
18.My sunglasses. And yes, I know they're broken, but imma get some new ones I saw at target, that have silver frames, won't rip my hair out when I take them off, and aren't FALLING A-FUCKING-PART like the ones at Gadzooks! Never buy sunglasses there. Ever.
19.My poetry. I've got the copies of those things I gave Larkin all folded up in a drawer, along with her letters to me. And now I've got em all digitized and archived on my computer. Quite a collection, actually- I must've written about 25 at least towards the end of the school year.
20.The Chibo Matto CD Larkin burned for me. It's the only thing I can listen to in Linux. And I likes it.
21.That reverend coat they sell at Hot Topic. I'm getting that Marble Slab job. I'm getting it, I'm getting 80 dollars, and I am buying one of those motherfucking coats.
I can't think of much else right now, actually. But yeah, that's a general idea of shit I like.
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
I'm Blue
Hello, everyone. My hair is blue. How, and why is my hair blue, you ask? Trip into a tub of drain-o, did I? Deprive myself of several necessary vitamins? Contract a deadly, genetically inherited Smurf syndrome? No! Far more perilous than all those combined. Larkin took the day off to hang out with me.
And saintly she is! Just saintly, with all the things she does for me! My dad became pissed at me this morning for not waking up early to go down to the Marble Slab Creamery to turn in my job application. What can I say? I'm nocturnal. I went to bed when he woke up. Larkin, suffering both heat and 1960 traffic, she helped me immensely by teaching me how to properly fill out a job application. As if that weren't enough to help me out, she then took me to Kroger to use a phone, and upon learning the location of the Marble Slab, took me there to turn in my perfectly completed application. A very hoarse and laringitis-stricken store manager Heather took my application, assuring me that Tonya owned the store (I had earlier been instructed to rendevous with Tonya). A success. I do hope I get the job. I simply must make some cash and treat Larkin to something for once.
And so, sweating in the Houston sun, Larkin carted me back to her house and then mine, picking up a few bottles of blue hair dye first. I was at least able to feed her my dad's cooking to pay her back for all this niceness. His homemade bread is good. After dinner, we ran upstairs, lathered my long blonde hair in this potent shit she brought, rinsed, and voila- my head is now, like hers, a vacuum for all visible light. I fucking love it. It's so dark it's almost brown, but sort of silvery, and when in bright light, the blue comes out. Thank you, love!
And saintly she is! Just saintly, with all the things she does for me! My dad became pissed at me this morning for not waking up early to go down to the Marble Slab Creamery to turn in my job application. What can I say? I'm nocturnal. I went to bed when he woke up. Larkin, suffering both heat and 1960 traffic, she helped me immensely by teaching me how to properly fill out a job application. As if that weren't enough to help me out, she then took me to Kroger to use a phone, and upon learning the location of the Marble Slab, took me there to turn in my perfectly completed application. A very hoarse and laringitis-stricken store manager Heather took my application, assuring me that Tonya owned the store (I had earlier been instructed to rendevous with Tonya). A success. I do hope I get the job. I simply must make some cash and treat Larkin to something for once.
And so, sweating in the Houston sun, Larkin carted me back to her house and then mine, picking up a few bottles of blue hair dye first. I was at least able to feed her my dad's cooking to pay her back for all this niceness. His homemade bread is good. After dinner, we ran upstairs, lathered my long blonde hair in this potent shit she brought, rinsed, and voila- my head is now, like hers, a vacuum for all visible light. I fucking love it. It's so dark it's almost brown, but sort of silvery, and when in bright light, the blue comes out. Thank you, love!
Monday, July 14, 2003
Wasabi Powder n Caffeine Mints, All in my Wallet
Yesterday certainly was a large load of awesome. As planned, the group adventure to the Woodlands mall #2 took place. The participants: Larkin, Rob, Kim, Todd, Julia, and I. A fine crew to fit in that huge Sherman tank of a van Larkin's mom has. But it has air-conditioning, and Larkin is a remarkably good driver on highways. Our first stop- the mall, and Hot Topic.
While Rob and Todd walked around like kids in a candy shop, buying new goth clothes to stain with angst, I found meself a snazzy new red wallet, complete with detachable chain for assasination. Of course, it took about ten minutes for me alone to check out, due to some boy and mother struggling with a checkbook. Really a funny sight to see a middle-aged sweater vest-clad woman buying her son huge black pants with spikes and chains and zippers and buckles and goth shit. But I got my wallet. It beat the shit out of my ten year-old, pink and green HBO/Cinemax wallet.
Next, to the food court. Larkin bought me a cup of coffee, and I returned to Rob and Todd's table while the female half of the group went to watch Larkin buy underwear. That's a G-string, Rob. So just, remember, if you want any, they're still only 1.99 at Express.
We headed off to Target so Todd could buy some dark-looking pants, but he nearly wasted that trip by not buying pants. Luckily, Rob bought pants, and Julia bought goldfish, so we left. How interesting that was. But I did find some nice sunglasses at Target to replace my broken ones from the mall. And the ones at Target don't look like shit. I shall go back with ten bucks and get a pair.
World Market is almost as cool as the Asian market. I swear. I got the wasabi powder I need, and some caffeine mints. So fucking awesome. And Julia got a bunch of weird candy that tastes like the something something graceful lady. Yeah. Unfortunately, she fed Larkin one or two, and this unbalanced her sugar (Larkin's somewhat diabetic), so she became all tired and dehydrated and stuff. After dropping people off, we just went to her house and took a nap. She took me out for sushi. Wonderful creature. I can't thank her enough times for all the things she does for me. I can't thank her enough for actually enjoying weird, exotic Asian food. Who the hell else would go with me to eat raw octopus, wrapped in seaweed and pickled rice, seasoned with fish eggs?
While Rob and Todd walked around like kids in a candy shop, buying new goth clothes to stain with angst, I found meself a snazzy new red wallet, complete with detachable chain for assasination. Of course, it took about ten minutes for me alone to check out, due to some boy and mother struggling with a checkbook. Really a funny sight to see a middle-aged sweater vest-clad woman buying her son huge black pants with spikes and chains and zippers and buckles and goth shit. But I got my wallet. It beat the shit out of my ten year-old, pink and green HBO/Cinemax wallet.
Next, to the food court. Larkin bought me a cup of coffee, and I returned to Rob and Todd's table while the female half of the group went to watch Larkin buy underwear. That's a G-string, Rob. So just, remember, if you want any, they're still only 1.99 at Express.
We headed off to Target so Todd could buy some dark-looking pants, but he nearly wasted that trip by not buying pants. Luckily, Rob bought pants, and Julia bought goldfish, so we left. How interesting that was. But I did find some nice sunglasses at Target to replace my broken ones from the mall. And the ones at Target don't look like shit. I shall go back with ten bucks and get a pair.
World Market is almost as cool as the Asian market. I swear. I got the wasabi powder I need, and some caffeine mints. So fucking awesome. And Julia got a bunch of weird candy that tastes like the something something graceful lady. Yeah. Unfortunately, she fed Larkin one or two, and this unbalanced her sugar (Larkin's somewhat diabetic), so she became all tired and dehydrated and stuff. After dropping people off, we just went to her house and took a nap. She took me out for sushi. Wonderful creature. I can't thank her enough times for all the things she does for me. I can't thank her enough for actually enjoying weird, exotic Asian food. Who the hell else would go with me to eat raw octopus, wrapped in seaweed and pickled rice, seasoned with fish eggs?
Saturday, July 12, 2003
I look on my desk and I see three shades of red, in order of hue from darkest to lightest. An interesting coincidence. First, the ornately detailed bandana, crumpled up, but not drenched in sweat (as I didn't happen to have a lawnmowing job at all today). Then, Larkin's rose, which is miraculously still very full and beautiful. Through the glass vase, the way the afternoon sunlight reflects off the petals makes a red aura around my desk. Third, my glass of red wine. It's so crimson it's almost black, even in its watered-down form (it's got a few ice cubes in it). I just thought that was neat.
The Two Towers is Cool
Gandalf kicks ass. He's all ridin into Helm's Deep with the Rohirrim and there's the sunlight, and he goes all White Rider on their asses. What a hoss.
Uh Oh, a Poem
Another few lines straight from my heart.
Held
There is no more simply complex pleasure
In the world.
This warmth is a white-hot blaze in summer,
And my lover is kissing flame upon my neck.
Sparks fly, and ignite a passion
That would stay with us
And listen to our hearts beat against each other.
But she is kissing me goodnight.
And though we part, I am content.
For this is all I ever wanted.
A sweet body with a sweeter mind
To press both against both my own.
I have someone to hug!
Don't slide your arms away,
I'll tie them together behind my back.
But I know you won't.
Love cannot be simpler than this,
And it cannot be more mutual.
Rather, stay in my driveway
And hold me closer-
Make your arms my bosom's tourniquet.
Tighter.
Held
There is no more simply complex pleasure
In the world.
This warmth is a white-hot blaze in summer,
And my lover is kissing flame upon my neck.
Sparks fly, and ignite a passion
That would stay with us
And listen to our hearts beat against each other.
But she is kissing me goodnight.
And though we part, I am content.
For this is all I ever wanted.
A sweet body with a sweeter mind
To press both against both my own.
I have someone to hug!
Don't slide your arms away,
I'll tie them together behind my back.
But I know you won't.
Love cannot be simpler than this,
And it cannot be more mutual.
Rather, stay in my driveway
And hold me closer-
Make your arms my bosom's tourniquet.
Tighter.
Adventures in Rob's Mom's Car
God damn! What an eventful day. I woke up this morning not to the sound of my alarm (which I had meant to), but to, once again, my obnoxious mother bringing the dog upstairs to yip at me and wake me quite too suddenly. I hate it when my mom nags me about not getting enough sleep. I think she fails to notice that I'm no longer a wraith-like insomniac when I wake up. I'd stay that way if she'd keep out of my fucking bedroom every morning. Also, my dad is getting this habit of waking up at 2:12 AM, unable to get back to sleep- and, wanting to get some work done in the kitchen, he turns all the fucking lights on. Generally, my cat sneaks out of my bedroom sometime in the night, opening the door by several inches, which allows that damnable mix of flourescent and bulb light to pour into my room and drill into my eyelids. I'm kind of sensitive to light when I'm sleeping, so it pisses me off. But I don't want to go downstairs and ask him to turn some of the lights off, because he walks around in his underwear. Even if he were a male supermodel, I wouldn't want to stare at him in his undergarments, but my dad suffers from a state called "Lazy-Assed Beer Chugging Syndrome", making him less than presentable in a shirtless state. Ugh.
So, once I got the dog hair out of my mouth and had some orange juice, my mother and I were off for another dentist appointment- this time (I thought) to get the crown put on my fucked up tooth. But, was this the end of the drilling and poking my poor enamel companion? No! It's a temporary crown! I have to go back in and let them force-feed me more antiseptic on August 4th. What the fuck? If this is temporary, what did they fill the tooth with at the endodontics office? I hate, hate, HATE dentistry.
And of course, I thought the appointment was later in the day, but it turned out to be at about ten o'clock. This caused me to nearly missed my scheduled workout routine with my neighbors Sterling and Shawn. The soreness in my arms and chest has escalated beyond the initial weakness one feels after overtaxing muscle tissue, and moved into the burning pain of lactic acid. Mmm. Fermentation in my cells! I shall remember to stretch extensively tomorrow morning before Mr.Morris calls me to mow lawns. Imma make me some moneys.
Promptly after the workout and a shower, Sterling and I wearily lugged our computer hardware out to the Morris family's fugly red and black suburban for a LAN party. We get in, turn the car on and crank up the AC, and I sit back (apprehensively) as Sterling proceeds to drive around a culdesac to flip the car in the general direction of our destination (Alex Pankonien's house). His nazi of a mother, upon seeing this illegal yet playful feat, goes psycho-blender and refuses to drive us to our gamingfest. Bitch. I just know she was looking for an excuse to be relieved of the obligation to drive Sterling around. If the malicious Mormon meretrix would quit being so unreasonable and let the poor sap at least get his own driver's license (he's 16!), she wouldn't have to confront him quite so much. I swear. She yells at her children so loudly in her front fucking yard, my father can hear from two houses down and across the street. I paced around for five minutes, bloodthirstily flipping my knife open and closed, while I listened to a lecture telling Sterling that fun is, basically, not allowed. She'd better let him see Kathy when she gets back. I swear to the man that rides his bike around my neighborhood that I'll say something to her about it if she continues to cut up their time together like homemade baby clothes. Masked behind a pleasantly courteous, "I'm concerned for Sterling's well-being" tone, of course. I hate getting involved in family matters, but I don't even think Julia's mother is this bad. Mrs.Morris herds her children around like my mother herds our dogs.
It cost Sterling 30 bucks (not only is she a bitch, she's a money-grubbing one) to buy his freedom and a ride to the LAN party from my mom, but we did make it there. After all, we would've had a band of Mormons, a Catholic and a Baptist beating us with frozen corndogs if we didn't deliver their precious network hub to them, so we couldn't abandon the group. As usual, I got the kickass bar seat in the corner, away from all the arguments about which game to play and why Idiot #8's computer doesn't work. Had my very own sink and microwave, though I learned after one cup of tea that Pankonien's tap water is made of distilled sulfur, and had to retrieve filtered water from the kitchen thereafter.
It was a good LAN party, despite the fact UT2003 crapped out on me the entire time. I did well enough at CS, and annoyed the shit out of people in HLDM with my long jump module+shotgun style of fighting. At seven or so, my mom showed up to cart us and our equipment home. Upon arrival, I hung out at Sterling's for a bit to wait for Halley to show up, as I would've liked to have seen her again before school starts, but Larkin's mom called and, barely enough time to brush my precious ponytail, I was whisked away in Rob's mother's Oldsmobile- accompanied by Rob the chaffeur, Jeremy, and of course, the blue-haired beauty Larkin. Saw Halley drive right by us in her yellow Mustang. That car is cool. Ah, sigh. Old, silly infatuations...
A wonderful time was had by the four of us. We went and saw Anger Management at the dollar theatre, and I must say, it was hucking filarious. Adam Sandler kicks ass. Starbucks afterwords (you're an angel from, well, below Larkin. With beautiful black wings. Thank you for buying me coffee), Army Surplus was closed, Jeremy threw his hot chocolate out the window due to barista incompetence, and we went back to Larkin's cozy bedroom to look at photo albums, play with plastic dollar store guns, and play LETRES while making funny sounds. I think I'm hoarse.
I must say. I am, without a doubt, in love. I almost still haven't accepted the fact that this is all so great with Larkin. That I haven't been dumped after an instant's happiness for reasons circling immaturity and lack of conversation. Something in the back of my mind nags me and says it can't be possible. That I'm dreaming. Another thing has been nagging me, but not when I'm with Larkin. When I'm even slightly depressed, I often have no idea what from- but now I know the uncomfortable sensation stems from missing the girl's touch. I realized it in her van tonight, in my driveway. That warmth and tightness is so... Bach's Air. That's what Larkin holding me feels like. Jesus Christ! I've got someone I can hug! It's such a simple pleasure!
So, once I got the dog hair out of my mouth and had some orange juice, my mother and I were off for another dentist appointment- this time (I thought) to get the crown put on my fucked up tooth. But, was this the end of the drilling and poking my poor enamel companion? No! It's a temporary crown! I have to go back in and let them force-feed me more antiseptic on August 4th. What the fuck? If this is temporary, what did they fill the tooth with at the endodontics office? I hate, hate, HATE dentistry.
And of course, I thought the appointment was later in the day, but it turned out to be at about ten o'clock. This caused me to nearly missed my scheduled workout routine with my neighbors Sterling and Shawn. The soreness in my arms and chest has escalated beyond the initial weakness one feels after overtaxing muscle tissue, and moved into the burning pain of lactic acid. Mmm. Fermentation in my cells! I shall remember to stretch extensively tomorrow morning before Mr.Morris calls me to mow lawns. Imma make me some moneys.
Promptly after the workout and a shower, Sterling and I wearily lugged our computer hardware out to the Morris family's fugly red and black suburban for a LAN party. We get in, turn the car on and crank up the AC, and I sit back (apprehensively) as Sterling proceeds to drive around a culdesac to flip the car in the general direction of our destination (Alex Pankonien's house). His nazi of a mother, upon seeing this illegal yet playful feat, goes psycho-blender and refuses to drive us to our gamingfest. Bitch. I just know she was looking for an excuse to be relieved of the obligation to drive Sterling around. If the malicious Mormon meretrix would quit being so unreasonable and let the poor sap at least get his own driver's license (he's 16!), she wouldn't have to confront him quite so much. I swear. She yells at her children so loudly in her front fucking yard, my father can hear from two houses down and across the street. I paced around for five minutes, bloodthirstily flipping my knife open and closed, while I listened to a lecture telling Sterling that fun is, basically, not allowed. She'd better let him see Kathy when she gets back. I swear to the man that rides his bike around my neighborhood that I'll say something to her about it if she continues to cut up their time together like homemade baby clothes. Masked behind a pleasantly courteous, "I'm concerned for Sterling's well-being" tone, of course. I hate getting involved in family matters, but I don't even think Julia's mother is this bad. Mrs.Morris herds her children around like my mother herds our dogs.
It cost Sterling 30 bucks (not only is she a bitch, she's a money-grubbing one) to buy his freedom and a ride to the LAN party from my mom, but we did make it there. After all, we would've had a band of Mormons, a Catholic and a Baptist beating us with frozen corndogs if we didn't deliver their precious network hub to them, so we couldn't abandon the group. As usual, I got the kickass bar seat in the corner, away from all the arguments about which game to play and why Idiot #8's computer doesn't work. Had my very own sink and microwave, though I learned after one cup of tea that Pankonien's tap water is made of distilled sulfur, and had to retrieve filtered water from the kitchen thereafter.
It was a good LAN party, despite the fact UT2003 crapped out on me the entire time. I did well enough at CS, and annoyed the shit out of people in HLDM with my long jump module+shotgun style of fighting. At seven or so, my mom showed up to cart us and our equipment home. Upon arrival, I hung out at Sterling's for a bit to wait for Halley to show up, as I would've liked to have seen her again before school starts, but Larkin's mom called and, barely enough time to brush my precious ponytail, I was whisked away in Rob's mother's Oldsmobile- accompanied by Rob the chaffeur, Jeremy, and of course, the blue-haired beauty Larkin. Saw Halley drive right by us in her yellow Mustang. That car is cool. Ah, sigh. Old, silly infatuations...
A wonderful time was had by the four of us. We went and saw Anger Management at the dollar theatre, and I must say, it was hucking filarious. Adam Sandler kicks ass. Starbucks afterwords (you're an angel from, well, below Larkin. With beautiful black wings. Thank you for buying me coffee), Army Surplus was closed, Jeremy threw his hot chocolate out the window due to barista incompetence, and we went back to Larkin's cozy bedroom to look at photo albums, play with plastic dollar store guns, and play LETRES while making funny sounds. I think I'm hoarse.
I must say. I am, without a doubt, in love. I almost still haven't accepted the fact that this is all so great with Larkin. That I haven't been dumped after an instant's happiness for reasons circling immaturity and lack of conversation. Something in the back of my mind nags me and says it can't be possible. That I'm dreaming. Another thing has been nagging me, but not when I'm with Larkin. When I'm even slightly depressed, I often have no idea what from- but now I know the uncomfortable sensation stems from missing the girl's touch. I realized it in her van tonight, in my driveway. That warmth and tightness is so... Bach's Air. That's what Larkin holding me feels like. Jesus Christ! I've got someone I can hug! It's such a simple pleasure!
Friday, July 11, 2003
Thursday, July 10, 2003
Tosa Bushi!
On the Harima Bridge of Kochi
In the province of Tosa
I saw a shaved-head priest
Buy a hair pin from a vendor.
'Tis no surprise that a shaved-head priest
Should purchase a hair pin,
For I saw a crawling cripple
Buy a pair of wooden clogs.
A cripple crawling on all fours
Might buy a pair of wooden clogs,
For I saw the other day the blind
Purchase a paper lantern
Come, come, come at even,
You always say so,
But when I come, I find
There's no truth in your koi.
A thrift so trifling
To you I should say-
Only a whale swimming
And spouting in my pond-like sea!
Tosa no Kouchi no Harimaya Bashi de Bonsan Kan zashi Kau o mita Yosa koi, Yosa koi
Bonsaan Kaan zashi Kaisona monoyo- Izari ga Komageta Kau o mita Yosa koi, Yosa koi
"come" and "love" are pronounced "koi" in Japanese.
In the province of Tosa
I saw a shaved-head priest
Buy a hair pin from a vendor.
'Tis no surprise that a shaved-head priest
Should purchase a hair pin,
For I saw a crawling cripple
Buy a pair of wooden clogs.
A cripple crawling on all fours
Might buy a pair of wooden clogs,
For I saw the other day the blind
Purchase a paper lantern
Come, come, come at even,
You always say so,
But when I come, I find
There's no truth in your koi.
A thrift so trifling
To you I should say-
Only a whale swimming
And spouting in my pond-like sea!
Tosa no Kouchi no Harimaya Bashi de Bonsan Kan zashi Kau o mita Yosa koi, Yosa koi
Bonsaan Kaan zashi Kaisona monoyo- Izari ga Komageta Kau o mita Yosa koi, Yosa koi
"come" and "love" are pronounced "koi" in Japanese.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
Hellfuck!
AUGHHHHH
My wisdom teeth are coming in. Jagged sons of bitches. Ever so slowly, molecule by molecule, they increase in size, ripping upwards through my existing gums. I spit blood. Aspirin is my deliverance from this world of hurt, as I wince uncontrollably, trying to chew my carrot, but I've taken so many today. If I take more before waiting another two hours or so, it goes against the divine law of the instructions on the bottle, and then I experience deadly aspirin overdose side effects. Oh, for the love of Jesu, and all that is FROSTED WITH CHOCOLATE! IT HURTS! Fuck you, Dr.Hickey. Fuck you for not telling me these damn things were coming in. You took X-rays, for Christ's sake! How could you not figure it out? You bastard! You with your incompetent, stupid receptionist and your damn, bloody annoying nurse who always wants to ask me how my fucking life is going, like she's my mother fucking godmother! OW! You just want my money! My money and my dental health! I'll strangle you with dental floss!
AGHH THE CARROT HURTS
My wisdom teeth are coming in. Jagged sons of bitches. Ever so slowly, molecule by molecule, they increase in size, ripping upwards through my existing gums. I spit blood. Aspirin is my deliverance from this world of hurt, as I wince uncontrollably, trying to chew my carrot, but I've taken so many today. If I take more before waiting another two hours or so, it goes against the divine law of the instructions on the bottle, and then I experience deadly aspirin overdose side effects. Oh, for the love of Jesu, and all that is FROSTED WITH CHOCOLATE! IT HURTS! Fuck you, Dr.Hickey. Fuck you for not telling me these damn things were coming in. You took X-rays, for Christ's sake! How could you not figure it out? You bastard! You with your incompetent, stupid receptionist and your damn, bloody annoying nurse who always wants to ask me how my fucking life is going, like she's my mother fucking godmother! OW! You just want my money! My money and my dental health! I'll strangle you with dental floss!
AGHH THE CARROT HURTS
Is There Such a Thing as Love?
More Kleinforums crap. The above title was the question the guy asked.
[quote]Posted by: Frostie67 Posted on: July 08, 2003, 11:58:51 PM
Actually, most teenagers mistake infactuation for love. Most people in general know the difference between lust and everything else.
[/quote]
I agree. I dun really know why this is on the religion forum. But I'll answer the question anyhow.
Love exists. But it needs a lot more than simple infatuation to last, and be "true", as most people say. Unfortunately, such remarkable bonds between lovers are rare in high school. Sadly, when you think about it, high school is usually sort of a practice for when you get into more lasting, committed relationships.
But I'm not saying "true" love doesn't exist in high school. I said it takes more than physical lust. Sexual attraction is just a candle in a hurricane if there are no emotional feelings to back it up. Love's about getting along with someone. If you're the deepest, most intellectual, and philosophical genius in the school, and you hook up with a dumb, ditzy supermodel on a whim, you won't be happy for long. Sure, she'll appeal to your silly, immature side, but if you can't have a long conversation, then you can't have more than a month with her either.
The only way to describe love is with analogies like that. If you ask me, "true" love is when your lover is your best friend.
[quote]Posted by: Frostie67 Posted on: July 08, 2003, 11:58:51 PM
Actually, most teenagers mistake infactuation for love. Most people in general know the difference between lust and everything else.
[/quote]
I agree. I dun really know why this is on the religion forum. But I'll answer the question anyhow.
Love exists. But it needs a lot more than simple infatuation to last, and be "true", as most people say. Unfortunately, such remarkable bonds between lovers are rare in high school. Sadly, when you think about it, high school is usually sort of a practice for when you get into more lasting, committed relationships.
But I'm not saying "true" love doesn't exist in high school. I said it takes more than physical lust. Sexual attraction is just a candle in a hurricane if there are no emotional feelings to back it up. Love's about getting along with someone. If you're the deepest, most intellectual, and philosophical genius in the school, and you hook up with a dumb, ditzy supermodel on a whim, you won't be happy for long. Sure, she'll appeal to your silly, immature side, but if you can't have a long conversation, then you can't have more than a month with her either.
The only way to describe love is with analogies like that. If you ask me, "true" love is when your lover is your best friend.
Troublesome Little Bastards
Ah, what, you might ask, is the title of today's post referring to? You might have guessed me, and you might have guessed Larkin, since she also possesses a troublesome nature. You were right. Today we took a step forward- a step forward for science! That's right, we performed a social experiment in her subdivision. Let me explain.
It's a simple idea. We start out with a penny. We run up to some honest, hardworking, flag-waving American's household, and ask whoever answers the door to give us an object- any object, as long as it's not really disgusting or somebody's schizophrenia medication, that they think is worth one cent- in exchange for the penny. We then take our new treasure to a different house, and exchange it for something worth the first object. We keep going until we, um, get a couch. Or something.
Ok, so maybe it's not quite as glorious as I made it sound. But it was fun. First we got a rubber band. We thought that sucked, so we tried a shiny quarter at another house, and got some really fucking weird Finding Nemo toy. It made this noise when you pushed a button- and I cannot describe it any better that with the words "octopus orgasm".
A few glaring mothers who refused to open their doors later, we exchanged the annoying toy to a man for a canister of Play-Dough! Ah, how it brought back memories of my youth. I used to make pancakes out of that shit, and feed them to my friend Bill. I'm serious. Bill wasn't smart.
So we took that Play-Dough, and, Play-Dough in hand, we, um, found a kitten. So we played with the kitten for awhile. She was cute. I named her Sebastiene! Yeah. We rang another doorbell shortly after playtime, and who answered the door but a half-naked, hairy-chested, ex-sociology teacher! I think I shuddered several times. After asking us what this was for several times, and hearing our little white lie that this was a science fair project and that we'd give him a copy of the paper, he took our Play-Dough and gave us a baseball. Then the mosquitoes were eating Larkin, so we just kinda ran back to her place and hung out there for the remainder of the evening.
I've got to change my sleeping habits. I'm slowly becoming nocturnal by going to bed a little later every night- I think I'm down to about 3:30 AM now. I generally wake up at lunchtime, and so, of course, I'm pretty energetic until very early the next morning again. It's sort of a disadvantage when Larkin's falling asleep near midnight. I really hope I don't bug her too much by being so full of energy. Ah well. At least she can sleep in now that she's got less HLA to deal with. Just as long as she doesn't fall asleep at the wheel and kill Sebastiene, I'll keep hangin out with her until as late as possible.
It's a simple idea. We start out with a penny. We run up to some honest, hardworking, flag-waving American's household, and ask whoever answers the door to give us an object- any object, as long as it's not really disgusting or somebody's schizophrenia medication, that they think is worth one cent- in exchange for the penny. We then take our new treasure to a different house, and exchange it for something worth the first object. We keep going until we, um, get a couch. Or something.
Ok, so maybe it's not quite as glorious as I made it sound. But it was fun. First we got a rubber band. We thought that sucked, so we tried a shiny quarter at another house, and got some really fucking weird Finding Nemo toy. It made this noise when you pushed a button- and I cannot describe it any better that with the words "octopus orgasm".
A few glaring mothers who refused to open their doors later, we exchanged the annoying toy to a man for a canister of Play-Dough! Ah, how it brought back memories of my youth. I used to make pancakes out of that shit, and feed them to my friend Bill. I'm serious. Bill wasn't smart.
So we took that Play-Dough, and, Play-Dough in hand, we, um, found a kitten. So we played with the kitten for awhile. She was cute. I named her Sebastiene! Yeah. We rang another doorbell shortly after playtime, and who answered the door but a half-naked, hairy-chested, ex-sociology teacher! I think I shuddered several times. After asking us what this was for several times, and hearing our little white lie that this was a science fair project and that we'd give him a copy of the paper, he took our Play-Dough and gave us a baseball. Then the mosquitoes were eating Larkin, so we just kinda ran back to her place and hung out there for the remainder of the evening.
I've got to change my sleeping habits. I'm slowly becoming nocturnal by going to bed a little later every night- I think I'm down to about 3:30 AM now. I generally wake up at lunchtime, and so, of course, I'm pretty energetic until very early the next morning again. It's sort of a disadvantage when Larkin's falling asleep near midnight. I really hope I don't bug her too much by being so full of energy. Ah well. At least she can sleep in now that she's got less HLA to deal with. Just as long as she doesn't fall asleep at the wheel and kill Sebastiene, I'll keep hangin out with her until as late as possible.
Tuesday, July 08, 2003
Larkin has a new denim jacket. I watched her glue decorative stuff onto it today from my secret underground lair (under the covers in her bed). Much fun. She looks cute in it! Positively adorable!
So, yeah. I didn't get to see her until 6:40ish today, as she must now take another HLA course. I must say, she was at HLA for about four hours, but I STILL missed her fiercely! I'm so used to seeing her every day for such a long time! I want to say it's almost becoming routine, but I hate routines. It's wonderful every time we do something together. Still always so impossible to leave her alone in her car in my driveway at midnight. I'm really happy. I think I've finally accepted this new concept that I'm loved by someone in a deeper way than some silly infatuation. Or at the very least, someone's been fond of me for more than two months. Heh. Flavor of the month, did you say, Ben? :P
Child of Mists: you are doted upon
JohnH778: as are you!
Child of Mists: and that is a threefold utopian dream
Todd wants us to fix him up with a bunch of black clothing and shit, like we did Rob. It will happen, and it will happen Saturday. Going to KICK ASS! I enjoyed doing it to Rob. Seemed to give him something to be happy about, at least. Todd should enjoy it.
I don't have anything left to say about today. It was great, as usual. I'm going to take a step out of this mindset I'm in, and look at my life... Try to summarize it.
As far as I know, I'm doing well. I'm loved by an extraordinary creature, who I'm also infinitely fond of. I have a new-found love of several things, in light of my happiness. Sushi, which Larkin so kindly reintroduced me to. My parents never get the stuff. Cooking, which I was inspired to improve upon by her as well. Reading, which I don't get enough time to do (not that I mind). Writing- this interest of COURSE spawned from Larkin, she being the adolescent queen of the English language. I've sort of got that story thing. And I've written all that poetry, which people seem to like. I have a new interest in my blog due to it. Hmm. Sewing, which I took up due to a lack of Larkin. My self-embroidered pants do look pretty cool. I still like knives. I love my crazy long hair and my clothes- after a decade of being the kid with the pants, t-shirts, and short dorky hair, I've established a little more personal style, I think. Now I'm the kid with the pants, the work shirts, and the long hair. Yes. Much better. And I think, lastly, I do keep myself in better shape nowadays... I've got someone to impress now. Amazing what cycling has done to my damn legs over the past year and a half! I feel as though I could kick the head off a mule!
So, yeah. I didn't get to see her until 6:40ish today, as she must now take another HLA course. I must say, she was at HLA for about four hours, but I STILL missed her fiercely! I'm so used to seeing her every day for such a long time! I want to say it's almost becoming routine, but I hate routines. It's wonderful every time we do something together. Still always so impossible to leave her alone in her car in my driveway at midnight. I'm really happy. I think I've finally accepted this new concept that I'm loved by someone in a deeper way than some silly infatuation. Or at the very least, someone's been fond of me for more than two months. Heh. Flavor of the month, did you say, Ben? :P
Child of Mists: you are doted upon
JohnH778: as are you!
Child of Mists: and that is a threefold utopian dream
Todd wants us to fix him up with a bunch of black clothing and shit, like we did Rob. It will happen, and it will happen Saturday. Going to KICK ASS! I enjoyed doing it to Rob. Seemed to give him something to be happy about, at least. Todd should enjoy it.
I don't have anything left to say about today. It was great, as usual. I'm going to take a step out of this mindset I'm in, and look at my life... Try to summarize it.
As far as I know, I'm doing well. I'm loved by an extraordinary creature, who I'm also infinitely fond of. I have a new-found love of several things, in light of my happiness. Sushi, which Larkin so kindly reintroduced me to. My parents never get the stuff. Cooking, which I was inspired to improve upon by her as well. Reading, which I don't get enough time to do (not that I mind). Writing- this interest of COURSE spawned from Larkin, she being the adolescent queen of the English language. I've sort of got that story thing. And I've written all that poetry, which people seem to like. I have a new interest in my blog due to it. Hmm. Sewing, which I took up due to a lack of Larkin. My self-embroidered pants do look pretty cool. I still like knives. I love my crazy long hair and my clothes- after a decade of being the kid with the pants, t-shirts, and short dorky hair, I've established a little more personal style, I think. Now I'm the kid with the pants, the work shirts, and the long hair. Yes. Much better. And I think, lastly, I do keep myself in better shape nowadays... I've got someone to impress now. Amazing what cycling has done to my damn legs over the past year and a half! I feel as though I could kick the head off a mule!
You are French-press coffee. You are full of body
and sensuality, and you love to be sipped and
savored at leisure... though you can get cold
rather quickly.
What Kind of Coffee Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Monday, July 07, 2003
SHIT
Damnit! DAMNIT TO HELL! Larkin has to go back and take ANOTHER course at HLA! I am saddened. Most saddened indeed. I mean, it's only three hours a day she's gone now, but still! That place is hell on her! And.. sigh. Once again I'm left at the 'better' end of the deal, with nothing to suffer but a little loneliness. I'm always sympathizing with people in worse situations than I. Why must I be the lucky one? Poor, poor Larkin!
Yet Again?
Meh. Posting on Kleinforums is fun if you're in the mood. Especially because I'm a religious debate whore- as you might assume, this guy named Meh called me a hypocrite and said I couldn't disprove the existence of God.
Yeah, you're right, Meh. All atheists are hypocrites. If you go to that atheism.org website, or whatever the URL is, it says basically that atheists are bent on ridding the world of religion. I'm not necessarily on some crusade against worshippers. But I blame religion for a LOT of the strife in the world. Some good things come out of religion. Some nice art and music. But a lot more really bad things do too. Mass oppression and jihads. Heh. Even some teenager lovers being pulled apart by their conservative parents.
I call myself agnostic, just because it's a bit of a more neutral term. I don't really care what I'm called. Heathen is fine too. I believe strongly that religion is unnecessary. And sure, I can't disprove the existence of God, but I've tried to believe in the fellow myself, and I just didn't get it. I base my claim that there is no God on the simple farfetchedness of the whole concept, and the sheer weirdness of the worshipping people I see around me. It's cult-like!
Sure, I like to rant and rave about it too. What hardheaded male doesn't? I sometimes can't help writing out stuff like I did on that previous post. Most people that debate religion sink back into that idiotic, pseudo-intellectual "I know you're fucking wrong" crowd. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm not in it. But I meant every sentence I said in my previous post, and I stand by it.
What you said about believing in "A" God instead of "the" God, I agree with. I don't think religion needs to be about waking up early to waste a sunday going to some building to engage in prayer and nice, wholesome, family activities. I guess you can tell I'm somewhat sickened by the idea, but I'll get to my point. Organized religion is crap. When you stand back and look at it, it looks like a bunch of little countries' governments, each with their own style of propaganda. You're right- it just makes for discrimination, and it contradicts itself in too many ways to be reasonable. If God made the earth and is holy in everything, then why can't you just step outside into his creation and pray to the ground? Why spend millions of dollars making this extravagant churches if God is already magnificent? It's useless.
I think the closest anyone has ever come to sensible worship has been the pagans- they at least worshipped the Earth, outside, in their holy spirit's creation rather than in some big brick box of God.
I guess what I mean to say by all this, and in response to Meh's post is- modern society shouldn't need religion to govern it. I think we'll do just fine living our lives in the present, and not wasting good sleep Sunday morning just so we won't burn forever. Humans are no longer cavemen that need to look up at the sun and moon and worship it to relieve themselves of their loneliness and confusion. God is the Easter bunny for adults.
Yeah, you're right, Meh. All atheists are hypocrites. If you go to that atheism.org website, or whatever the URL is, it says basically that atheists are bent on ridding the world of religion. I'm not necessarily on some crusade against worshippers. But I blame religion for a LOT of the strife in the world. Some good things come out of religion. Some nice art and music. But a lot more really bad things do too. Mass oppression and jihads. Heh. Even some teenager lovers being pulled apart by their conservative parents.
I call myself agnostic, just because it's a bit of a more neutral term. I don't really care what I'm called. Heathen is fine too. I believe strongly that religion is unnecessary. And sure, I can't disprove the existence of God, but I've tried to believe in the fellow myself, and I just didn't get it. I base my claim that there is no God on the simple farfetchedness of the whole concept, and the sheer weirdness of the worshipping people I see around me. It's cult-like!
Sure, I like to rant and rave about it too. What hardheaded male doesn't? I sometimes can't help writing out stuff like I did on that previous post. Most people that debate religion sink back into that idiotic, pseudo-intellectual "I know you're fucking wrong" crowd. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm not in it. But I meant every sentence I said in my previous post, and I stand by it.
What you said about believing in "A" God instead of "the" God, I agree with. I don't think religion needs to be about waking up early to waste a sunday going to some building to engage in prayer and nice, wholesome, family activities. I guess you can tell I'm somewhat sickened by the idea, but I'll get to my point. Organized religion is crap. When you stand back and look at it, it looks like a bunch of little countries' governments, each with their own style of propaganda. You're right- it just makes for discrimination, and it contradicts itself in too many ways to be reasonable. If God made the earth and is holy in everything, then why can't you just step outside into his creation and pray to the ground? Why spend millions of dollars making this extravagant churches if God is already magnificent? It's useless.
I think the closest anyone has ever come to sensible worship has been the pagans- they at least worshipped the Earth, outside, in their holy spirit's creation rather than in some big brick box of God.
I guess what I mean to say by all this, and in response to Meh's post is- modern society shouldn't need religion to govern it. I think we'll do just fine living our lives in the present, and not wasting good sleep Sunday morning just so we won't burn forever. Humans are no longer cavemen that need to look up at the sun and moon and worship it to relieve themselves of their loneliness and confusion. God is the Easter bunny for adults.
Sushi Heartburn
Man, what a day. That play I went to with Larkin's family today was, well, it was allright. Mediocre. Had some hilarious characters, but generally, I'm not much for mysteries, as they seldom invoke much more from the audience than "who killed Professor Fucker?".
Mm. I love sushi. Larkin's mom, being the incredibly awesome person of good taste she is, took us all to a most favorite restaurant of mine, Pepper Chino. Man. They have the BEST SUSHI. I'm not a fan of their green jello, but everything else was positively superior. Heh. Liz is hilarious. It seems there's much more to her that one might get at first glance- she's really pretty smart. Most cute with Ari. I do believe they're my favorite lesbians! Not that I know many... Or any others for that matter... But they're really cool.
So, Larkin and I got back to her house and went on one of our walks around a park again. What fun it is to run around in the woods with her! A bio-2 student is very interesting to have around in the wilderness, as she's most proficient at pointing out what things are, and, to my appreciation, which spiders and plants are poisonous. Mushrooms are springy and soft! I want to make a hat out of mushrooms. Yeah. The walk was cool, I jumped around a lot. I'm training my sense of balance so I can easily walk across that big metal pipe in the backwoods we visit. Plus, I like to jump on things when I'm hyperactive. Yeah.
Wonderful evening after that, spent at her house. I like peach tea. I like peach tea. I like Larkin, too.
I'm listening to Queen. BICYCLE! BICYCLE!
Mm. I love sushi. Larkin's mom, being the incredibly awesome person of good taste she is, took us all to a most favorite restaurant of mine, Pepper Chino. Man. They have the BEST SUSHI. I'm not a fan of their green jello, but everything else was positively superior. Heh. Liz is hilarious. It seems there's much more to her that one might get at first glance- she's really pretty smart. Most cute with Ari. I do believe they're my favorite lesbians! Not that I know many... Or any others for that matter... But they're really cool.
So, Larkin and I got back to her house and went on one of our walks around a park again. What fun it is to run around in the woods with her! A bio-2 student is very interesting to have around in the wilderness, as she's most proficient at pointing out what things are, and, to my appreciation, which spiders and plants are poisonous. Mushrooms are springy and soft! I want to make a hat out of mushrooms. Yeah. The walk was cool, I jumped around a lot. I'm training my sense of balance so I can easily walk across that big metal pipe in the backwoods we visit. Plus, I like to jump on things when I'm hyperactive. Yeah.
Wonderful evening after that, spent at her house. I like peach tea. I like peach tea. I like Larkin, too.
I'm listening to Queen. BICYCLE! BICYCLE!
Arg, I Bitch on Kleinforums Again
Ack, bible quotes.
I'm just going to forget being nice to you guys here and say, flat out- when you die, you don't go to some magical place in the clouds to experience some eternal form of bliss. Who the hell thought up the whole heaven deal? If such a place exists, how the hell could anyone, any human even remotely conceive of such bodiless contentment? What the fuck? Heaven is an incentive. It's an incentive to be good little humans. Some brilliant fuck, long ago, invented God to keep us in line. Sure, it's a nice concept, but when holy wars start breaking out, those little faults in the system begin to show.
Anyway, there's no hell either. Bit of an anti-incentive, if you will. Somehow, the whole 'thou shalt not kill' thing didn't apply to those holy wars, and people evidently didn't think they were going to their place of eternal, fiery red hot stuff. Who thought up [i]that[/i]? Some guys must've just been sittin around a campfire, thinking up the most painful ways to die, while taking a break from creating religion, and they thought up this realm of pain. It's just another thing that makes us afraid. If you die and have no body, how the hell can you feel heat anyway?
To conclude my little rant- when you die, you perish. You don't go to heaven for being nice, you don't burn forever for being evil. Your heart stops, your best friends put you in a box, and they lower you six feet into the Earth's crust. Worms crawl in your body cavities and slowly decompose you.
NOTHING FUCKING MORE.
There is no invisible, all-powerful, infinitely benevolent divine father figure watching over us.
And, in response to whoever the hell said Jesus is perfect- you're wrong. Like his shit don't stink. Like he didn't shit at all. Surely Jesus once said to the apostles, "Guys, start prayin without me. I gotta go use the chamber pot."
I'm just going to forget being nice to you guys here and say, flat out- when you die, you don't go to some magical place in the clouds to experience some eternal form of bliss. Who the hell thought up the whole heaven deal? If such a place exists, how the hell could anyone, any human even remotely conceive of such bodiless contentment? What the fuck? Heaven is an incentive. It's an incentive to be good little humans. Some brilliant fuck, long ago, invented God to keep us in line. Sure, it's a nice concept, but when holy wars start breaking out, those little faults in the system begin to show.
Anyway, there's no hell either. Bit of an anti-incentive, if you will. Somehow, the whole 'thou shalt not kill' thing didn't apply to those holy wars, and people evidently didn't think they were going to their place of eternal, fiery red hot stuff. Who thought up [i]that[/i]? Some guys must've just been sittin around a campfire, thinking up the most painful ways to die, while taking a break from creating religion, and they thought up this realm of pain. It's just another thing that makes us afraid. If you die and have no body, how the hell can you feel heat anyway?
To conclude my little rant- when you die, you perish. You don't go to heaven for being nice, you don't burn forever for being evil. Your heart stops, your best friends put you in a box, and they lower you six feet into the Earth's crust. Worms crawl in your body cavities and slowly decompose you.
NOTHING FUCKING MORE.
There is no invisible, all-powerful, infinitely benevolent divine father figure watching over us.
And, in response to whoever the hell said Jesus is perfect- you're wrong. Like his shit don't stink. Like he didn't shit at all. Surely Jesus once said to the apostles, "Guys, start prayin without me. I gotta go use the chamber pot."
Sunday, July 06, 2003
I'm Happy
So, yeah. Another Saturday gone by, with most of it spent in the prescence of Salsa Legs (nickname given to Larkin by horny Mexican construction workers). And they are that. Larkin's been going to the gym and doing some crazy routines with her lower body, and I must say, she's got some ninja quality legs. She does some freaky yoga tricks now too.
We went down to Left Handed Monkey today with a huge yard trash bag of my ancient clothes. Of course, it consisted of really old cargo pants from when I was 11 or so, so evidently they were too small to be of any use for the crazy employee. He had a hat. But he bought three of my items, giving me ten dollars in store credit, with which I promptly bought Larkin a new pair of red pants.
There happened to be a World Market just across the street, so we decided to make another raid, and engaged in staring at all the colorful products in the store. We sat in their chair, too. And, while browsing the rack of Thai spices, I looked one shelf over, and behold! I found the Japanese spice, togarashi, which many of my Japanese cookbook's recipes call for. It's neat shit. Larkin got some caffeine mints.
So we went back to Larkin's house, and much to our delight, the house was practically uninhabited (her mother still walked around, but as we stepped in, decided to take a nap). We took advantage of the silence and cooked some waffles (with the Hello Kitty waffle iron, of course) and a big omelette.
You know, I can't convey to you how wonderful it is to know someone else that enjoys (and doesn't royally suck at) cooking. We cook for each other on almost a regular basis- mostly weird Asian shit, today's breakfast-for-dinner a small exception. It's great. Cooking is the best hobby one can have.
So eventually, Larkin's watchful father and the rest of the noisy siblings returned home, so we grabbed Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and a DVD player and drove back over to my place. As nice as Larkin's place is, I'm not fond of her father (who's going away tomorrow- score!), who's always running around with his evil, stern tone and prohibits most forms of snuggling. And snuggling is important. Very important. More important than Hello Kitty waffles.
She left around midnight, as usual, so here I am once again, writing too much shit in my blog and chatting on AIM. This is the life. I'm also attempting to salvage my story by completely wiping the second chapter. I think I forgot how much it sucks to have a writer simply explain shit monotonously and not develop characters through actions and dialogue. So like I said, there was going to be Mr.Fujiyaki's daughter, and she was going to be cool, and Jim was going to like her. I'll start out like so-
A tall, slender Asian woman with shoulder-length, silky black hair pushed open one of the two glass doors of Mr.Fujiyaki’s little karate school and quietly stepped inside. She moved with a feline grace, taking silent, short steps and sharply swinging her arms at her side, which gave her an intriguing aura of elegance. The woman’s hair was so straight it came to a very neatly trimmed point at her shoulders, and as she glided over the wicker welcome mat on the floor, the late afternoon sun gave that hair a remarkable sheen that fluctuated and bounced around her neck. That head of hair could’ve been made of licorice and spider silk. In that orange glow that sweeps across the flatness of central Texas at the end of a summer day, she looked like a black cat in moonlight.
“Hello, father.” She said to a drowsy Mr.Fujiyaki, napping in a wooden armchair. Her low alto voice, surprising when considering her size, resonated in the gymnasium, giving the old man quite a scare. He quickly sat up, knocking a box of teabags to the floor as he was torn from a bad dream by this angel.
We went down to Left Handed Monkey today with a huge yard trash bag of my ancient clothes. Of course, it consisted of really old cargo pants from when I was 11 or so, so evidently they were too small to be of any use for the crazy employee. He had a hat. But he bought three of my items, giving me ten dollars in store credit, with which I promptly bought Larkin a new pair of red pants.
There happened to be a World Market just across the street, so we decided to make another raid, and engaged in staring at all the colorful products in the store. We sat in their chair, too. And, while browsing the rack of Thai spices, I looked one shelf over, and behold! I found the Japanese spice, togarashi, which many of my Japanese cookbook's recipes call for. It's neat shit. Larkin got some caffeine mints.
So we went back to Larkin's house, and much to our delight, the house was practically uninhabited (her mother still walked around, but as we stepped in, decided to take a nap). We took advantage of the silence and cooked some waffles (with the Hello Kitty waffle iron, of course) and a big omelette.
You know, I can't convey to you how wonderful it is to know someone else that enjoys (and doesn't royally suck at) cooking. We cook for each other on almost a regular basis- mostly weird Asian shit, today's breakfast-for-dinner a small exception. It's great. Cooking is the best hobby one can have.
So eventually, Larkin's watchful father and the rest of the noisy siblings returned home, so we grabbed Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and a DVD player and drove back over to my place. As nice as Larkin's place is, I'm not fond of her father (who's going away tomorrow- score!), who's always running around with his evil, stern tone and prohibits most forms of snuggling. And snuggling is important. Very important. More important than Hello Kitty waffles.
She left around midnight, as usual, so here I am once again, writing too much shit in my blog and chatting on AIM. This is the life. I'm also attempting to salvage my story by completely wiping the second chapter. I think I forgot how much it sucks to have a writer simply explain shit monotonously and not develop characters through actions and dialogue. So like I said, there was going to be Mr.Fujiyaki's daughter, and she was going to be cool, and Jim was going to like her. I'll start out like so-
A tall, slender Asian woman with shoulder-length, silky black hair pushed open one of the two glass doors of Mr.Fujiyaki’s little karate school and quietly stepped inside. She moved with a feline grace, taking silent, short steps and sharply swinging her arms at her side, which gave her an intriguing aura of elegance. The woman’s hair was so straight it came to a very neatly trimmed point at her shoulders, and as she glided over the wicker welcome mat on the floor, the late afternoon sun gave that hair a remarkable sheen that fluctuated and bounced around her neck. That head of hair could’ve been made of licorice and spider silk. In that orange glow that sweeps across the flatness of central Texas at the end of a summer day, she looked like a black cat in moonlight.
“Hello, father.” She said to a drowsy Mr.Fujiyaki, napping in a wooden armchair. Her low alto voice, surprising when considering her size, resonated in the gymnasium, giving the old man quite a scare. He quickly sat up, knocking a box of teabags to the floor as he was torn from a bad dream by this angel.
Friday, July 04, 2003
Wake Up, You Sons of Bitches!
Sitting around my house. Waiting for people to wake up and get online. I guess I could use the phone, but who likes the phone? I can type almost as fast as I talk anyway. Made the pico de gallo for our 4th of July dinner, and now all that's missing is Larkin. Ah, Larkin. Wonderful, soft, sweet-smelling, blue-haired Larkin. We've been going out for nearly four months.
Hmm. I need to write a rant. Let me browse cnn.com real quick.
http://www.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/07/04/bush.day.ap/index.html
Man. Yet another reckless, hardheaded patriotic anti-terrorism speech- and sapping strength from the 4th of July! "Since that September day," he says. I guess whoever writes his speeches is running out of good synonyms for "9-11". I mean, he talks about it a fucking lot. It's the only thing Bush can use to justify sending half of the most powerful army in the world into the desert hellhole that the Middle-East is. I mean, he's seperating these troops from their families to wage some biblical war on "evil"! Now he wants to send troops to Liberia too! Is Bush slowly turning into a dictator, or what? With all these attacks on, well, everyone, it seems like he's taking over the world.
He says we won't stand by and wait for another attack. Well, fuck. What other attacks have their been in our own country? The only bloodshed happening now isn't in our own homes, it's on the other side of the world. But he's right. We're not waiting for attacks. We're just making more of them. I bet the average foreigner thinks the Americans are the terrorists...
Hmm. I need to write a rant. Let me browse cnn.com real quick.
http://www.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/07/04/bush.day.ap/index.html
Man. Yet another reckless, hardheaded patriotic anti-terrorism speech- and sapping strength from the 4th of July! "Since that September day," he says. I guess whoever writes his speeches is running out of good synonyms for "9-11". I mean, he talks about it a fucking lot. It's the only thing Bush can use to justify sending half of the most powerful army in the world into the desert hellhole that the Middle-East is. I mean, he's seperating these troops from their families to wage some biblical war on "evil"! Now he wants to send troops to Liberia too! Is Bush slowly turning into a dictator, or what? With all these attacks on, well, everyone, it seems like he's taking over the world.
He says we won't stand by and wait for another attack. Well, fuck. What other attacks have their been in our own country? The only bloodshed happening now isn't in our own homes, it's on the other side of the world. But he's right. We're not waiting for attacks. We're just making more of them. I bet the average foreigner thinks the Americans are the terrorists...
I Liek Shopping
Man, some kickass day. As planned, Larkin, Rob and I ventured to the mall for clothes shopping. That's right- we busied ourselves restoring rob's tired old wardrobe, one that mainly consisted of gray t-shirts and jeans. Now he sports two new outfits PLUS accessories: a fishnet undershirt to go with either a black, punktacular workshirt (much like the ones I usually wear) laced with decorative zippers, or a nice, simple, SOAD t-shirt. To further help his new tendency to absorb all the light in a room, we went to target and got him two pairs of dark blue navy carpenter pants, and a snazzy new black leather belt, complete with lots of little metal holes. Oh, and he's got one of those necklaces with the big metal beads. I must say- it beats the shit out of Tommy Hilfiger t-shirts. I commend thee.
And I got me a new rayon black work shirt.
Now, we should do this to Todd.
Anyhow, Larkin used her powers for awesome to buy us coffee at the mall, and sushi after our shopping trips, but not before our hike in the park. I mean, sushi! I love sushi! Even Rob likes sushi! Larkin's so kind to us. All that extra money she gets, she uses on two bums like Rob and I! I love, LOVE that girl!
So, to end the night, we watched a depressing film about poor Irish kids at my house. Good movie. Better with her, even.
And I got me a new rayon black work shirt.
Now, we should do this to Todd.
Anyhow, Larkin used her powers for awesome to buy us coffee at the mall, and sushi after our shopping trips, but not before our hike in the park. I mean, sushi! I love sushi! Even Rob likes sushi! Larkin's so kind to us. All that extra money she gets, she uses on two bums like Rob and I! I love, LOVE that girl!
So, to end the night, we watched a depressing film about poor Irish kids at my house. Good movie. Better with her, even.
Thursday, July 03, 2003
The Master of Analogies Strikes Again!
Phoenix110585: quite a force to be reckoned with...
Phoenix110585: this fate thing
JohnH778: yesh
JohnH778: I usually just knife it and go out with larkin
JohnH778: cause fate's, like, this big ball of jello
JohnH778: if it envelops you, you can't get out
JohnH778: but if you see it coming
JohnH778: you can KNIFE IT
JohnH778: ...up into smaller, more manageable cubes, at least
Phoenix110585: this fate thing
JohnH778: yesh
JohnH778: I usually just knife it and go out with larkin
JohnH778: cause fate's, like, this big ball of jello
JohnH778: if it envelops you, you can't get out
JohnH778: but if you see it coming
JohnH778: you can KNIFE IT
JohnH778: ...up into smaller, more manageable cubes, at least
YES
Oh, man. Larkin's back. I feel so much better now. Seeing her was the most wonderful thing that's happened in a week. Well, obviously. But you know what I mean. It just felt good to actually be able to be close to her. I hate telephones.
So yeah, I was doing some nostalgic thing earlier. I'm in the mood to write about it now, because, well, I'm in the mood to do anything that involves positive shit. So I was looking through my archives- mostly the early ones. I'm not a self-aware person, an paradoxially enough, I know that I'm not. It troubles me sometimes, actually, to not really know my true qualities. I rely on friends and other sources to get a general idea of who I am. My blog's a great thing to read, especially entries six months ago or so, since this is one of the places I put my real emotions into. That and choir, but I can't very well record myself singing while I'm in the midst of 106 others.
I think I've come up with a general idea of some of my characteristics- finally. Most of these are probably pretty obvious to everyone- but I find it much harder to see myself. Yeah. I'm just weird that way.
1. I tend to be a sarcastic, cynical bastard- at least when dealing with things I hate.
2. When talking about ailments or shit that bothers me, I exaggerate. Maybe I'm a slight hypochondriac.
3. I swear a lot. No shit, right?
4. Whenever I find someone that I take a romantic interest in, I almost never feel a simple slight liking for that person. I thrive on constant, intense affection, and therefore, I'm either indifferent to a girl, or I love her with all my heart.
5. Also regarding my love life, I tend to like taking care of someone. I guess I just sort of have this instinct to protect a lover, shield her from anything disheartening. Who wouldn't?
6. I make a shitload of empty threats. So don't make me shove a red hot sewing needle in your eye.
7. As says #1, I'm only cynical with things I hate. When dealing with something I love, I tend to be pretty compassionate. I guess I'm sort of two sided- which means, when I'm in love, my cynicism turns into the submissive side of me, and I become vulnerable to the real bastards like Rob and Todd, who like taking advantage of that. Heh. I guess I deserve it.
8. I like knives.
9. Whenever I accomplish something, I'm obsessed by this, and get a sort of feeling that I'm instantly a master at whatever skill I used. Like, with my story. I wrote that first part, and most people thought it was cool, so I got a bit cocky, didn't really think about it anymore, and wrote a shitty second chapter. I need to watch out for that...
10. I do not like authority, but I'm good at looking presentable. Most adults like me because I'm able to put on this mask of a polite, tolerable personality. In other words, the inner me wants to cut my math teacher's head off, but the exterior me just says "Mrs.Sampogna, I'm pretty sure I turned that worksheet in." Or some shit like that.
I can't come up with anything else right now. But now that I've read my blog, and been in a nice lasting relationship with someone, I think I know myself a lot better than before. I am content now.
So yeah, I was doing some nostalgic thing earlier. I'm in the mood to write about it now, because, well, I'm in the mood to do anything that involves positive shit. So I was looking through my archives- mostly the early ones. I'm not a self-aware person, an paradoxially enough, I know that I'm not. It troubles me sometimes, actually, to not really know my true qualities. I rely on friends and other sources to get a general idea of who I am. My blog's a great thing to read, especially entries six months ago or so, since this is one of the places I put my real emotions into. That and choir, but I can't very well record myself singing while I'm in the midst of 106 others.
I think I've come up with a general idea of some of my characteristics- finally. Most of these are probably pretty obvious to everyone- but I find it much harder to see myself. Yeah. I'm just weird that way.
1. I tend to be a sarcastic, cynical bastard- at least when dealing with things I hate.
2. When talking about ailments or shit that bothers me, I exaggerate. Maybe I'm a slight hypochondriac.
3. I swear a lot. No shit, right?
4. Whenever I find someone that I take a romantic interest in, I almost never feel a simple slight liking for that person. I thrive on constant, intense affection, and therefore, I'm either indifferent to a girl, or I love her with all my heart.
5. Also regarding my love life, I tend to like taking care of someone. I guess I just sort of have this instinct to protect a lover, shield her from anything disheartening. Who wouldn't?
6. I make a shitload of empty threats. So don't make me shove a red hot sewing needle in your eye.
7. As says #1, I'm only cynical with things I hate. When dealing with something I love, I tend to be pretty compassionate. I guess I'm sort of two sided- which means, when I'm in love, my cynicism turns into the submissive side of me, and I become vulnerable to the real bastards like Rob and Todd, who like taking advantage of that. Heh. I guess I deserve it.
8. I like knives.
9. Whenever I accomplish something, I'm obsessed by this, and get a sort of feeling that I'm instantly a master at whatever skill I used. Like, with my story. I wrote that first part, and most people thought it was cool, so I got a bit cocky, didn't really think about it anymore, and wrote a shitty second chapter. I need to watch out for that...
10. I do not like authority, but I'm good at looking presentable. Most adults like me because I'm able to put on this mask of a polite, tolerable personality. In other words, the inner me wants to cut my math teacher's head off, but the exterior me just says "Mrs.Sampogna, I'm pretty sure I turned that worksheet in." Or some shit like that.
I can't come up with anything else right now. But now that I've read my blog, and been in a nice lasting relationship with someone, I think I know myself a lot better than before. I am content now.
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Well, Larkin should be home soon. I wait eagerly like a Jack Russel fucking terrier for that alarm sound I've got on AIM that tells me when she logs on. I can't wait to see her. The past few days have been, well, pathetically hellish. But surely, some can understand. Once you're in love with someone, being apart is the most painful thing imaginable... I've never told anyone, because some goofy scientist has probably said it before, but one of my chief philosophies has yet to be compromised. It goes something like this:
Humans never feel the need for anything unless they've experienced it at least once.
And it's true. Not even food or water. Sure, a baby will feel hunger pains and thirst, but does a baby really know what the fuck water or baby food is? No. Once it gets some, it knows what will sustain its life and it craves it from then on.
Man. I was just reading some of my past blog archives- like, the ones from the very creation of this life's timeline I call my blog.
OH SHIT! I continue nostalgic monologue later. LARKIN'S HOME
Humans never feel the need for anything unless they've experienced it at least once.
And it's true. Not even food or water. Sure, a baby will feel hunger pains and thirst, but does a baby really know what the fuck water or baby food is? No. Once it gets some, it knows what will sustain its life and it craves it from then on.
Man. I was just reading some of my past blog archives- like, the ones from the very creation of this life's timeline I call my blog.
OH SHIT! I continue nostalgic monologue later. LARKIN'S HOME
You are Peace.
You are at peace with your self and the world
around you. You have balance in your life and
exude tranquility from every pore of your body.
People are constantly asking you "what is
your secret?"
What Emotion Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Crap
Ah, god! Rob's right. My story sucks ass past the first chapter. I think I need to quit rambling about this old Japanese guy and develop my characters more slowly, per his advice. Don't even read that shit I posted down there earlier- imma delete it and do something better.