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warning: contains a skatological reference

11-25-'xx: 5:49pm

[ mix cd ]

i am brimming with rage. i had this whole witty, intellectual, and just generally cool-sounding entry typed out, and then, i press the fucking backspace button and the browser goes back. i lost it all. damn AOL and it's terrible, inferior version of MIE! damn them all to hell!

anyway. so i guess "the holidays" have officially started. i mean....christmas officially started in september, with the return of the holiday display to the front of the bon...but "the holidays" don't ever really start until thanksgiving. but who knows...maybe i'm thinking on the wrong track, because when i saw charlie's angels a week ago, i noticed in horror that the christmas lights were already up at the mall. and it was only november 18th, for god's sake.

but i have come to an executive decision...with all that seeing-my-family and joy crap aside, i hate "the holidays". and no, it's not what you think. no, i don't hate them because they're "commercialized capitalist brainwashing" or any form of that that uses those three words in abundance. no, i don't hate them because i hear people destroying beautiful songs left and right. and i only partially hate them because of people's natural tendency to be extra fake during them.

no, that's not it at all. i hate them because there is nothing better to do than eat all that food that ends up lying around...and lord knows i'm fat enough already. and it doesn't help that my mother had all of the kids' halloween candy shoved in a jar that conveniently sits on the counter where i can grab some every time i walk by...and that they drug me to chevy's last night with all that cheese and sour cream and sinful stuff. curses, curses, curses to these damned holidays and their damned food. i'll be glad when i'm back in my own no-food enviornment. i'm just glad i don't live here.

other than the whole food thing, my stay here has been pretty good. i've slept a lot, even by my standards...worked on my percussion composition a bit...read a few books. i'd seen the movie where the heart is, but i hadn't read the book so i decided it might be a good read because i liked the movie. it was a good read, and a quick one, too. and i musn't forget captian underpants and professor p. poopypants or whatever that book was called. intellectualness at it's finest. notice the skatological reference in the title. you just know it has to be good. and yes, "intellectualness" IS a word, i just deemed it so.

also, yesterday i embarked on an adventure that i hadn't experienced in a long time...the infamous day-after-thanksgiving shopping trip. and while the extreme volumes of people and long lines didn't phase me as much as they could, i was bothered more by another factor: the extreme lack of good-looking guys. i mean, with that many people crunched into such a small place, with such a large pool of people to draw from [ it was, after all, the tacoma mall ], you'd think that i'd at least see one drool-worthy guy. but it wasn't so. as a matter of fact, i only saw two that i'd say were even worth mentioning. bah.

yeah. watch me be all insensitive and cynical. woooo i'm cool!

so today we went out and looked at a house. normally, i hate looking at houses...and this wasn't any exception, really. except this house was kinda cool because i had a history. it was built in the forties and i guess it belonged to a couple who were ballroom dancers. the husband died about 20 years ago, i guess...and the woman died a few years back [ my mom went to the estate sale, picked up some cool dresses ]. actually...come to think of it...that's all the history i really know about it...but you could just imagine what this house looked like in it's height of glory. marble fireplace, columns inside , a huge area for a fountian in the middle of what was once a landscaped garden with a circular driveway. et cetera. but all that was left was a yard full of overgrown shrubs and dead tree branches...muddy tire-tracks...old mossy, water-stained stone. all parts of the house were either in a state of half-assed restoration or slow decay...and they painted it a really ugly colour [ "like baby poop after the baby has eaten squash," my mom said] that made it look extremely unnatural against it's drab surroundings. and it had this really creepy basement...it was dark and smelled damp and looked like it had been host to many a group of rebellious teenagers looking for a good time on a friday night. teenagers without cars, apparently, because i don't see why anyone with a car would go break into some old house's basement and drink cheap beer and a little liquor they jacked from their parent's top cabinets when they could drive to tacoma in like ten minutes. anyway. the creepiest part of the whole house was the pantry down in the basement...it was still full of ancient jars that once had unfamiliar brands of jam and maonaise, karo syrup, and other such stuff. and boxes of pesticide. one of the jars still contained something...but i wasn't about ready to find out what it was. "brown goo" will have to suffice for my curious mind.

anyway. then we went to ross and all i got was socks and pantyhose. i am so boring.

in the few days before break, i was really getting sick of being in town. being at school. i guess i was just kind of wearing out...and i was having a bad week so i'm glad it was cut short. i needed a break. but i don't need all this food. sometimes, i wish i would just get the flu so the temptation wouldn't even be an issue.

last night, my sister's pager would go off like every two minutes. it was only on vibrate, but it was nonetheless very irritating, so i shoved it in a sock and put it in a drawer. that didn't stop the vibrating noises, so i put it in a drawer filled with clothes. no change. finally, i just put it out in the living room. i don't get it...isn't the point of having a pager so you can know who's trying to get ahold of you when you're not home? why didn't she take it with her? it's a mystery.

on wednesday night, i was sucked into watching this horrible, lame disney flick. phantom of the megaplex. but not because it's plot was gripping or the cinematography was amazing. no. because the main character was hot. yes. very much yes. i wanted to propose to him right then and there. oh pretend mr. megaplex employee, will you marry me?

and speaking of marrige proposals, i wanted to give another at the dr. tim clinic tuesday. to the guy who gave me a backrub when dr. tim had us turn around and do the backrub chain. this guy was good, and i can't for the life of me remember his name. damn. oh well, i guess. besides that, the dr. tim clinic was fabulous. i'm glad i got to go, it's the last time he's going to do it because he's retiring. i'll get to see him once more in indiana but then, it's bye, bye, bye.

ok, enough of my rambling. i better go before this all gets deleted like my last one. and i think i want some tea, also. how dignified of me.

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