Guess who had a crow pecking around her car this morning?
Of course it’s me, who else would I write about? Well, that made me smile, then, on my drive to school I saw GNA. That bitch.
Yesterday on my drive home from class (that was cancelled by the way), late at night, in the snowy wonderfulmusness that is Ohio in January, a red Bug drove in front of me going all of 20 miles an hour... when the speed limit was 55. Ah, to be fair, her top speed was around 23 miles an hour.
And not just for a few miles.
And no, she wasn’t looking for a street or a house address.
She was driving from the University into my town, about thirty minutes away. And for about forty five minutes I sat in my car, driving ever so slowly, with just my middle fingers, behind the bitch, staring at her license plate “GNAS BUG” and cursing her with every curse word in English and Mandarin I could think of. I finally said “who gives a crap about safety” and passed her in the blizzard. In case you’re wondering, I did survive.
She is now my enemy for life. A pox on GNA and her screwed up odometer.
And today I saw her. In that evil red bug, with some nasty man in the passengers seat, the most annoying license plate “GNAS BUG” and stuck in traffic right outside of town. Ha! That’s what she gets for driving like that. I clapped and beat on my horn that doesn’t really honk but is truly a celebratory stress reliever.
Also, I made chocolate covered raisins today and feel so very chef-y and cool. Before the chocolate I tried to be all crafty and makes these seemingly cute things but failed miserably. Let’s just go back to the chocolate.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
"Straw Warts"
Crows are my good luck symbols. I know it might sound a bit odd, most folk lore’s I’ve heard say that crows are the bringers of bad news or death, but not for me. I’m not superstitious, I don’t really believe it, but I like being able to say that I have a good luck charm. Some people have lucky numbers, days, or charms… I have crows.
One day, when I was sixteen, I was walking between buildings at my campus style high school and saw this big ass tree with no leaves but three crows perched on it, one on the left, one in the middle, and one on the right and the half moon behind it all. As I was walking the crow in the middle flew down and over my head, his wing brushing over my head. It was my spiritual/surreal experience that was kinda laughable but kinda cool.
So, since then I’ve figured that crows are my good luck symbol. Now I just need to figure out why my bad luck symbol is, ‘cause it was around today. I wont go into all the details, but it involved me falling on my ass and cracking my head on the ice, again having to crawl through the evil Mazda’s trunk, and then missing yet another class. I’m thinking that maybe snow is my bad luck symbol. Nothing seems to go right when there’s snow around.
And here's a link for you. Oodles, and oodles of... fun... with palindromes?
http://www.palindromelist.com/
One day, when I was sixteen, I was walking between buildings at my campus style high school and saw this big ass tree with no leaves but three crows perched on it, one on the left, one in the middle, and one on the right and the half moon behind it all. As I was walking the crow in the middle flew down and over my head, his wing brushing over my head. It was my spiritual/surreal experience that was kinda laughable but kinda cool.
So, since then I’ve figured that crows are my good luck symbol. Now I just need to figure out why my bad luck symbol is, ‘cause it was around today. I wont go into all the details, but it involved me falling on my ass and cracking my head on the ice, again having to crawl through the evil Mazda’s trunk, and then missing yet another class. I’m thinking that maybe snow is my bad luck symbol. Nothing seems to go right when there’s snow around.
And here's a link for you. Oodles, and oodles of... fun... with palindromes?
http://www.palindromelist.com/
Monday, January 26, 2004
I was curious when I could expect to see Living ‘till The End in theaters so I sent off a little e-mail. Here’s the response I got back…
kaythryn;
we're still in post. keep checking the site for details and more shots of sean...have given him his own page -- not up yet. thanks for the response...spread the word.
best,
amanda
And she even spelled my name right. I can’t wait.
And after looking at this list I don’t know how you could say anything and it not have something to do with masturbation.
kaythryn;
we're still in post. keep checking the site for details and more shots of sean...have given him his own page -- not up yet. thanks for the response...spread the word.
best,
amanda
And she even spelled my name right. I can’t wait.
And after looking at this list I don’t know how you could say anything and it not have something to do with masturbation.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Global warming my ass, it’s cold outside!
First off, man socks are the shit.
Those little white girly, size four, so short they sink down under your heel after three steps socks may be cute in the summer, but nothing beats a man sock in the winter. They come in all kinds of dorky patters, warm comfy materials, and reach all the way up to your knee.
That being said, this morning I needed socks. It’s ten degrees outside, I need man socks. I rummaged though my dad’s sock drawer, nope, none of those I wanted. Went to my brothers room and what do I find in his underwear drawer? A fourteen year old boys underwear drawer…hummm… let’s think.
Porno magazines?
A pack of cigarettes?
Underwear even?
No, no, and yes but who cares. I found an unopened bottle of Don Perignon. Do all fourteen year old boys have bottles of Champaign in their underwear drawers? I’m really quite afraid for the world.
I took this death test at TheSpark.com and it told me I’m going to die on March 12, 2054 at the age of 69. I was really hopping to live longer than that. It said that I have a 29% chance of dying of cancer, 17 % chance I’ll die of a homicide, 7% chance I’ll die of third degree burns, and 5% chances that I’ll die of either lonelyness or a hear attack. Oh yeah, and 325355 people claim to have leprosy.
Not terribly uplifting, but a little interesting none the less.
This is a very fun site . They do all kinds of interesting experiments and tricks.
How evil are you?
Those little white girly, size four, so short they sink down under your heel after three steps socks may be cute in the summer, but nothing beats a man sock in the winter. They come in all kinds of dorky patters, warm comfy materials, and reach all the way up to your knee.
That being said, this morning I needed socks. It’s ten degrees outside, I need man socks. I rummaged though my dad’s sock drawer, nope, none of those I wanted. Went to my brothers room and what do I find in his underwear drawer? A fourteen year old boys underwear drawer…hummm… let’s think.
Porno magazines?
A pack of cigarettes?
Underwear even?
No, no, and yes but who cares. I found an unopened bottle of Don Perignon. Do all fourteen year old boys have bottles of Champaign in their underwear drawers? I’m really quite afraid for the world.
I took this death test at TheSpark.com and it told me I’m going to die on March 12, 2054 at the age of 69. I was really hopping to live longer than that. It said that I have a 29% chance of dying of cancer, 17 % chance I’ll die of a homicide, 7% chance I’ll die of third degree burns, and 5% chances that I’ll die of either lonelyness or a hear attack. Oh yeah, and 325355 people claim to have leprosy.
Not terribly uplifting, but a little interesting none the less.
This is a very fun site . They do all kinds of interesting experiments and tricks.
How evil are you?
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Phones are a special commodity in my house. They are rare and treasured.
It’s not that we don’t have many, we’ve got three cordless phones and four cell phones, but the real trick is in finding them. My mother and father don’t even try any more. They just let it ring and ring until someone else gets fed up by the loud reverting sound and goes hunting. Lately it’s just for my brother. His many girlfriends call numerous times a day to check on him and what he’s doing, and dozens and dozens of his guy friends call asking for rides, times to come over, and video game gossip.
Now as soon as I’ve taken off my shoes, curled my legs beneath me, grabbed a brimming cup of hot chocolate, balanced my lap top on one knee, the cat on my shoulder has fallen asleep, and the dogs curled at my sides are calm, the phone will ring.
Ah, hell.
So I have to toss the computer to the side, scaring all three dogs away; the scattering dogs freak out the sleeping cat who then digs into my shoulder before springing away and causing me to spill my hot chocolate all over my leg and drip into my empty shoes. Then I have to jump, skip, hop, and plow through the swirling mess of dogs that will twine around my legs thinking that I got up with the sole intention of letting them outside. When I manage to clear the dogs I break out into a sprint, sliding across the wood floor, feet tingling with the threat of splinters, headed first towards the kitchen phone.
Is it there? No. Of course not.
Next to the living room. Phone? Yes! Is it charged up, does it work? No.
Why the hell did I build my hopes up in the first place?
Okay, to the third spot, my brother’s room. Up the stairs, three turns, down the hall, into his room and smack into the weightlifting machine thingy. Ouch. The phone’s still ringing. On his desk? No. Under the blankets? No. I pause and try to ignore the sound of my breath as I wait for another ring.
It’s coming from my parents room. I ran down the hall and into their room. The phone isn’t on the phone jack, but it’s still ringing. I climbed up on their bed and starting looking on the back shelf, shuffling though piles of magazines, and bank statements, under cat beds and remotes. There, among black, phone sized DVD, TV, fan and stereo remotes was the black, phone sized phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Jake home?”
“No Lauren, like I said earlier, he’ll be home this evening. Like around dinner time… like later.”
“*sigh*…alright.”
“I’ll have him call you.”
“Bye.” Click.
All of that just to tell on of Jake’s girlfriends to calm down and go away.
Now that I’ve just finished ranting on the fact that I never get any calls, my aunt called for me. My aunt, quite the pink princess covered in porcelain dolls, and I are great pen pals. She’s a writer and is always sending me literary magazines and books. Just recently, about three years ago, she starting working as a advertisement, executive, traveling speaker thing for a church in Maine. Abracadabra, she’s now religious. This book she just finished a few days ago is supposedly about these three, or possibly four, witches. She loved it. She thinks she has a little witch in her. She also said that my mother and I are like that. Well… okay, whatever you say Auntie… but doesn’t the bible have some not nice words about witchcraft? She isn’t terribly sarcastic and she does help pay for my college books, so I held that little bit back.
The last book she sent me was “Asleep“. It was okay. Nothing I would really recommend or read again.
And last night I finished “The Scars of Evolution”. Wow. I love Elaine Morgan. She’s just the super coolest person ever. I don’t know how anyone can’t accept the Aquatic Ape Theory. It’s the first evolutionary theory that I really researched and looked into, so that might of swayed me a bit, but damn, it’s good. “The Scars of Evolution” is a good book, very good, but more so I recommend “The decent of Woman”. It’s by the same author on the same theory, but in this book it focuses more on women’s characteristics and changes over time. It rocks. With those two finished I've started on “Neanderthal”. Yeah, yeah, I've really got to get back to Snowcrash sometime. I will.
Clocks are cool. I like this one best, but this one is pretty nice too.
You're Most Like The Season ... NO wait! Hold it!
You're not like a season at all! You're a
psycho... You need a new season created just
for you.
You either answered wildly to be different, or you
truly are a 'special case'. Independant -
maybe, Intelligent - somewhat. Weird and wacky
- most certainly.
A nut case, a fruit cake, the joker, the insane
lunatic :) However be careful or you may get
locked up.
Well Done... You're not at home in any of the
seasons, you creat your own.
?? Which Season Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla
It’s not that we don’t have many, we’ve got three cordless phones and four cell phones, but the real trick is in finding them. My mother and father don’t even try any more. They just let it ring and ring until someone else gets fed up by the loud reverting sound and goes hunting. Lately it’s just for my brother. His many girlfriends call numerous times a day to check on him and what he’s doing, and dozens and dozens of his guy friends call asking for rides, times to come over, and video game gossip.
Now as soon as I’ve taken off my shoes, curled my legs beneath me, grabbed a brimming cup of hot chocolate, balanced my lap top on one knee, the cat on my shoulder has fallen asleep, and the dogs curled at my sides are calm, the phone will ring.
Ah, hell.
So I have to toss the computer to the side, scaring all three dogs away; the scattering dogs freak out the sleeping cat who then digs into my shoulder before springing away and causing me to spill my hot chocolate all over my leg and drip into my empty shoes. Then I have to jump, skip, hop, and plow through the swirling mess of dogs that will twine around my legs thinking that I got up with the sole intention of letting them outside. When I manage to clear the dogs I break out into a sprint, sliding across the wood floor, feet tingling with the threat of splinters, headed first towards the kitchen phone.
Is it there? No. Of course not.
Next to the living room. Phone? Yes! Is it charged up, does it work? No.
Why the hell did I build my hopes up in the first place?
Okay, to the third spot, my brother’s room. Up the stairs, three turns, down the hall, into his room and smack into the weightlifting machine thingy. Ouch. The phone’s still ringing. On his desk? No. Under the blankets? No. I pause and try to ignore the sound of my breath as I wait for another ring.
It’s coming from my parents room. I ran down the hall and into their room. The phone isn’t on the phone jack, but it’s still ringing. I climbed up on their bed and starting looking on the back shelf, shuffling though piles of magazines, and bank statements, under cat beds and remotes. There, among black, phone sized DVD, TV, fan and stereo remotes was the black, phone sized phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Jake home?”
“No Lauren, like I said earlier, he’ll be home this evening. Like around dinner time… like later.”
“*sigh*…alright.”
“I’ll have him call you.”
“Bye.” Click.
All of that just to tell on of Jake’s girlfriends to calm down and go away.
Now that I’ve just finished ranting on the fact that I never get any calls, my aunt called for me. My aunt, quite the pink princess covered in porcelain dolls, and I are great pen pals. She’s a writer and is always sending me literary magazines and books. Just recently, about three years ago, she starting working as a advertisement, executive, traveling speaker thing for a church in Maine. Abracadabra, she’s now religious. This book she just finished a few days ago is supposedly about these three, or possibly four, witches. She loved it. She thinks she has a little witch in her. She also said that my mother and I are like that. Well… okay, whatever you say Auntie… but doesn’t the bible have some not nice words about witchcraft? She isn’t terribly sarcastic and she does help pay for my college books, so I held that little bit back.
The last book she sent me was “Asleep“. It was okay. Nothing I would really recommend or read again.
And last night I finished “The Scars of Evolution”. Wow. I love Elaine Morgan. She’s just the super coolest person ever. I don’t know how anyone can’t accept the Aquatic Ape Theory. It’s the first evolutionary theory that I really researched and looked into, so that might of swayed me a bit, but damn, it’s good. “The Scars of Evolution” is a good book, very good, but more so I recommend “The decent of Woman”. It’s by the same author on the same theory, but in this book it focuses more on women’s characteristics and changes over time. It rocks. With those two finished I've started on “Neanderthal”. Yeah, yeah, I've really got to get back to Snowcrash sometime. I will.
Clocks are cool. I like this one best, but this one is pretty nice too.
You're Most Like The Season ... NO wait! Hold it!
You're not like a season at all! You're a
psycho... You need a new season created just
for you.
You either answered wildly to be different, or you
truly are a 'special case'. Independant -
maybe, Intelligent - somewhat. Weird and wacky
- most certainly.
A nut case, a fruit cake, the joker, the insane
lunatic :) However be careful or you may get
locked up.
Well Done... You're not at home in any of the
seasons, you creat your own.
?? Which Season Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla
Saturday, January 17, 2004
I like blue...
You are blue. You are somewhat innocent, in the fact that your genius only extends to the physical world. You have a false sense of contentness. You are usually the quiet one, the genius. Everyone can count on you to help when they have problems, but you only fall short of being able to solve your own.
What inner color are you?
Dark magician. You love the dark because of it's
beauty and just the life that no-one else sees.
Mysterious, calm, quiet... But that doesn't
mean you're not friendly!
Please rate ^^
What kind of dark person are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
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