I am posting on livejournal. The novelty.

Life is funny. Well, not really, but I suppose in a cosmic sense, it almost is.

Haven't really heard from Megan or Nick in a while, since Tabby's going away party. And of course, Tabby herself is in Mali.

I applied for a couple of part-time writing jobs. The worst part is the wait, when/if they call me back in like 5 billion years. I hope they hire me, I rite all good n stuff.

I'm having some really, REALLY bad writer's block lately. I don't really know if that's the right word for it though. I have ideas, just no real motivation to write.

Cindy left West. If you don't know what happened, ask her. I myself am about two months away from a good chuck of paid time off, and if something happens before then, I'll be pissed. Thankfully, I have Nicole to sit with.

This post may seem boring and trite, but I really just kind of wanted to see if I could manage a post anymore. Further explorations have found that yes, indeed I can.

I'm handling things.

Homeless as I am. And unable to communicate to anyone in a conventional sense. I find myself emotionally worn out every time I try to explain my current situation, and that's dangerous for me right now. If anyone needs to get ahold of my, I'm usually with Tim, whose number Nick has.

As I said, I'm handling things.

And, nothing says lovin' like contraband muffins.

Am I dead...?

Is my body gone?

No...This thought is real...

Hmm. I must be alive.

1. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
2. Tag seven people to do the same.
3. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag "whoever wants to do it."


1. I absolutely loathe the microwave. Explosions everywhere.

2. I'm not really as emotional as I come off.

3. I hate gay bars. With the burning intensity of a car fire.

4. Since I've been home I've lost 45 pounds. Yay for tomb raiding.

5. I really hold out hope that I will work for thegreyking as her tomb-raider.

6. If I had phoenix powers, I wouldn't be able to control myself. My friends would have to kill me.

7. I like me some lip gloss.

I haven't updated in...ever. I believe
at least since I've been home.

Well...Not much to say, really. Megan is already back at Mount, Tabby is going back soon too...Which leaves me with Mr. Management, Ms. Party-girl, and the ever-elusive Nicole. I can see many, many road trips in my future.

I start a new job on Friday. It's nothing exciting, but it'll pay pretty well.

I'm all excited about the concert Tabby and I are going to on Thursday. Barring some terrible incident, it should be fun. Anyway, maybe I'll update again. I dedicate this post to MEgan and Steve with their roommate madness, and Kirsten with her...alone. I feel the pain.

I live.

...What more is there to say? I miss Steve, I miss Megan, I miss my freedom, and I miss...I miss the time when I didn't miss so many things.

The annual fourh of July party is sounding as though it will be fun this year...My mom wants to do all mixed drinks this time. Should be interesting.

It is nice to be home with everyone again though. Though, it does mean I have to deal with other unpleasant matters. I just wanted a gallon of milk...Why was that so hard?

Aside from that, I'm trying to work off the three years of flab I got sitting in front of a computer screen. Thank god for pools and sunlight.

I think my brain is trying to escape through my nose.

Possible points for final projects: 210. My score: 121. This averages out to be something like 58%, and I need a 60% to go home.

HOWEVER, thanks to a little category called "Meets submission deadline", my points get multiplied by .7 and .75, and so my percentage is actually 43% on one, and 40% on the other. This means, kiddies, that I need somewhere in the neighborhood of 190 points on both in order to pass. I need to increase my score by 60. Which is vaguely impossible, as I doubt even the best projects get that much.

FUCK I just want to lay down and die.

Well.

I just read two plays by the guy that shot and killed 32 people on his college campus. I don't feel that I'm any better, having done this, but they made my stomach feel...I dunno. It's like that grating sound of metal on metal, that horrible squealing, rending sound, with orange sparks and bits of shrapnel flying; turn that sound into a feeling in the pit of your stomach and there it is.

I wish that things like this didn't happen. I'm trying not to get all mushy, but it's times like this that I want to get all my friends together and hug them and tell them how glad I am to have them. That kid, Cho Seung-Hui, I can't imagine what kind of lonliness and rage would drive him to kill 32 people that he didn't even know. I can't imagine his final thoughts before he turned the gun on himself; Pride? Self-satisfaction?

I think more than anything, I really, really, really don't want to know.

http://www.cinematical.com/2007/04/14/universal-studios-florida-building-harry-potter-theme-park-so/

That's right.

Ugh.

I began my day by picking up my check and cashing it, then spending way more than I wanted to on a flash drive. Granted, it's a gig, and it's all spiffy, and I really needed one, but...Meh.

Then I came to school and proceeded to cram everything on it from my student drive, so that I had room to work on my final project--which I finished a few minutes ago--and also moved all my writing from the past few years onto the new drive.

It's scary, my life, smashed into a small device like that...

Then I went to the cafeteria and bought a Snickers bar and some soda. People must have thought I had some sort of weird problem, because I wolfed the damn thing like I had never seen food in my life. Then again, I've been sitting in front of a computer without moving for like seven hours...

Blah.

Because I needed a break, I set out to replicate the Resident Evil characters Chris and Claire Redfield's goddess. I think it turned out pretty well...

( Goddess Pic )

Guys Like That You're Fun

You're the type of guy that guys brag about knowing That's because you're cool, funny, and laid back You're smart enough to know how to be one of the guys But flirty enough to know how to make them all want you

Now that that madness is over with..

I was sick last night. Achey, couldn't move, medicated. My phone rings, and I answer (half asleep AND drugged--I was lucky I could find the damn thing) to a female voice. "Don't hang up on me" the voice says, and after a few moments of realizing that I hadn't bothered to look at the number (restricted), I hung up. End of story.

Anyway. I'm leaving pitt on the 11th. I have many emotions about this, but rather than vomit them into a typed document, I'm just gonna hold onto them for now, until I'm sure of what I want to say.

On impulse, I emailed the national geographic society last night, telling them about myself, my hobbies, and so on, and asking if there were any particular job openings I should persue.

This morning, they emailed me back...

( In which I bitch about myself and fish for support... )

Okay. I've overcome the lj-cut problem (in case anyone saw that), and have posted the first five chapters from the series I'm currently working on. The name is Whitearcanum on livejournal, but right now I have it set to private except for two or three people. Megan, Tabby and Steve, check it out. I demand this of you.

I called off work today to work on stuff and basically to have some time to think about what I want to do in general. I'm about to leave and have dinner with Steve, during which I hope to reach some kind of conclusion about working.

I'll be heading home tomorrow, because if I don't spend some time near waterfalls and caves, I fear I may lose myself completely, and forget who I am.

Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

Not as easy as you might think.


1. Where is your cell phone?
pocket

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend?
kitty

3. Your hair?
murderous

4. Your mother?
meh

5. Your father?
mafia

6. Your favorite thing?
adventure

7. Your dream last night?
cop drama (I had a dream where I was in a shoot out on the highway, and they gave m,e a gun siunce I was just standing around, and one of the people trying to kill us all made a break for it, so I shot at them, but I accidentally shot Chris From Work in the back.)

8. Your favorite drink?
Dr. Pepper

9. Your dream car?
fun

10. The room you're in?
lab

11. Your ex?
needs-to-die-in-firey-car-accident-but-live-for-several-days-with-ninety-percent-of-their-body-covered-in-first-degree-burns (It's a hyphenate. It works.)

12. Your fears?
spiders (agreed)

13. Where do you want to be in 10 years?
Elsewhere

14. Who did you hang out with last night?
everyone

15. What you're not?
healthy

16. Muffins?
strawberry

17. One of your wish list items?
tickets (of the movie or plane variety)

18. Where you grew up?
doomed (to zombies)

19. The last thing you did?
drove

20. What are you wearing?
hoodie

21. Your TV?
home

22. Your pet?
belle

23. Your computer?
broken (again)

24. Your life?
painful

25. Your mood?
optimistic

26. Missing?
sleep (agreed)

27. What are you thinking about right now?
sleep

28. Your car?
working

29. Your work?
tiring

30. Your summer?
adventuring

31. Like someone?
yep

32. Your favorite color?
red

33. When is the last time you laughed?
last night

34. Last time you cried?
dunno

35. School?
fuckers

Yesterday I learned a few things.

After a ton of caffeine, sneezing changes my perception of reality a bit.

And if I ever find Julia's neck in a box somewhere, Jess will hold it for ransom.

And watching a guy eat a live baby is not as horrifying as watching a guy eat a dead baby, even if it is the new flavor at DQ.

Julia just breezed right by me in the computer lab, which is kinda funny.

A minute ago, the explorer window encountered a problem and needed to close. Then, when I tried to log back on to livejournal in a new window, it said my journal had been deleted and purged.

I wish I could sleep properly. I was up until like 6 last night watching odd TV shows like Iron Chef and reruns of the X-files. The good X-files, not the lame, later seasons in which agent Doggett took over. After which, I couldn't manage to fall asleep for no reason whatsoever.

Blah. This weekend is refusing to obey me. It won't get here fast enough.

I insist that everyone take a look at the AOL news and find the article about the couple that forced children to live in cages.

When you get to the line "felt we were being led by the Lord", see if you don't explode laughter a little bit. I have never seen that line used in a good way in court, and don't believe that it ever should be used.

I'm fairly insane today, as I finished my second book, and then my computer suddenly demanded that I register the version of Windows I was using, locking me out of everything I had done. Thankfully, I was able to save everything on a flash drive just before my computer decided to try and kill my spirit.

I'm going with Steve and Julia and friends to the Black and White Ball tonight, where I hope not to make a total idiot of myself. I can't dance. Not at all. And there have already been threats. Dance little monkey, dance.

It reminds me of the time Megan and Brittany threw me up on stage at a high school dance with four other guys to dance the "Bye-Bye-Bye" song by Nsync. It was rEdiculous. But hey, I got five bucks from it. Maybe this is why I have a fear of the dancing.

I still have to make my way to the social security office downtown. Apparently, I can't prove myself a US citizen, so I need to go apply for a new Social Security card.

And Salami is the freaking hardest thing to tell when it's bad, because I haven't felt well ever since I ate that sandwhich last night.

I don't know why, or how, or WHAT is causing the rediculous amount of snow outside, but it makes me sad, as I have stuff to do today. And get this: I went to my one MORNING class today to find that they cancelled AFTERNOON classes. They have never cancelled afternoon classes EVER. It's always morning classes that get cancelled. Bummer.

I'm also not sure why I've been writing as much as I have. I finished the first part of a series, now I'm on the second, and about halfway in. The creepy part is what it's about; It's hard to describe, but just the fact that I'm writing so much is kind of what the book is about...

And a note for those who read my myspace (I didn't have time to update livejournal, and myspace was an impulse) yes, my dad moved in with my grandparents. The whole thing is weird to talk about, but I'm more or less okay, thanks to Megan and Nick and Tiramisu and wine and such. Though, I gave them both advise that they seemed to take, and I'm hoping that things will work out, because I'm not going to choose someone to stay with over the summer.

Well. Yes. I wish it were warmer outside. It's too cold even for ME, the kid that never wears a proper coat.

Okay. I have to say this, and there's no debate about whether or not it makes me a bad person, because it does. Do not try to defend it, because it will make you a bad person as well.

Remember the days when the morbidly obese did not wander into public?

Anyway, to steer clear of the topic, I finished a book. Finished and printed it out. And I'm six chapters into the next in the series. AND NO ONE HAS READ THE ENTIRE THING. This is the first time I've written an entire book without Megan holding my hand all the way through. I'm...kinda proud. It's only like 120 pages, but for the first in a series (or the first part in a larger novel) it makes me happy.

Yeah. Now I'm gonna go.