Thursday, December 18, 2003
Hey all!
WOW! Return of the King was SO. AWESOME. I cried, I squeaked with terror, I waited in line for three hours and had fun doing so! *sigh* The cinematic joy. Battle sequences aren't my favourite part of going to the movies, but I even liked those.
Laura also did some very productive Christmas shopping and has invited me to join PUTSA (which I keep typing as PUSTA, and that does not sound very nice at all...) as a reward for my efforts -- "just buy the damn thing and let's get back in line!" hehe. No, she was remarkably decisive. I think she just needed positive reinforcement of her decision-making process.
This just in: Jessica should really be a therapist.
Trala. Life is quite good I'm hopelessly behind in math, I'm getting new, beautiful, beautiful glasses, and I have approximately 5 billion things to do before New Years'. Sleep is for wusses and momma's boys.
Over and out.
WOW! Return of the King was SO. AWESOME. I cried, I squeaked with terror, I waited in line for three hours and had fun doing so! *sigh* The cinematic joy. Battle sequences aren't my favourite part of going to the movies, but I even liked those.
Laura also did some very productive Christmas shopping and has invited me to join PUTSA (which I keep typing as PUSTA, and that does not sound very nice at all...) as a reward for my efforts -- "just buy the damn thing and let's get back in line!" hehe. No, she was remarkably decisive. I think she just needed positive reinforcement of her decision-making process.
This just in: Jessica should really be a therapist.
Trala. Life is quite good I'm hopelessly behind in math, I'm getting new, beautiful, beautiful glasses, and I have approximately 5 billion things to do before New Years'. Sleep is for wusses and momma's boys.
Over and out.
Monday, December 15, 2003
Yes. Zane, aged four months, is adorable. His favourite song appears to be "Loch Lomond" (the first thing I do when confronted with a crying infant and an empty house is SING!). And his parents seem very nice, though Bobby Bagshaw, as my parentals helpfully pointed out, is an extremely hobbity name.
LORD OF THE RINGS comes out WEDNESDAY! YAYAYAYAYA! And I have tickets for the eight o'clock showing and a COSTUME. Elise has a costume too: She will be attired as a hobbit lass, in a red flower-print peasant skirt, light yellow bodice of the same print, and cream blouse. I am extremely excited.
Just came from drama, where Leah Wilson continues to drive me crazy. We're working on a little musical number to be presented in the school theatre Wednesday and/or Thursday and she just knows better than anyone, except possibly Jen Hicks. Whenever anyone comes up with an idea, she smacks it down or says, "Jen, you're the dancer, would that work?" and then Jen is in an awkward position between two people's ideas, so she's kind of left holding the bag when Leah doesn't like an idea. Leah is always correcting the other group members, loudly, shrilly, and bitchily, on our counting, our facial expressions, our use of props... well, any aspect of the number is open to her constant criticism. Nor am I the only person who feels this way, everyone is going insane. And someone (I don't remember who; the red mist that had descended on my vision so I couldn't see them) said that Leah is basically the worst dancer in the group. You all know that I am a fairly tolerant person and pride myself on not being, you know, a *total* bitch. So someone whose behaviour makes me feel like that about her is someone who is probably getting a fair go of it from me, but has succeeded in taking me from impartial to insane.
Leah is also Grad president. I am so, so very glad I'm not on grad council. Honestly, though, half the graduating class seems to be on it, so they really don't need my help. My "help", were I there, would consist of "uh, this seems like kind of a waste of time, hey? Why don't we all go back to my place, I'll make some cookies, and we can just mail the diplomas out later." So it's probably for the best I didn't join. School-sanctioned parties are overrated.
Wow. All this negativity. Let's talk about something positive instead.
Um.
Oh! Here we go. Elise had her birthday party Sunday and we went to Crankpots and it was quite fun. Her cake was *fabulous*, really moist chocolate cake with white chocolate-coconut icing. YUM. And she got the world's hottest Orlando Bloom poster. DOUBLE YUM! (hehe... telephone... crunchy... yum)
And Tom had his birthday party Friday night and I took a quiet moment to tell him I love him and he told me he loved me, without a moment's hesitation.
Billy (the Chef) also thinks Leah is horrid and not actually doing such a great job on the dancing herself. He came over and told me so, not two seconds ago. But if my group can collectively get its blood pressure down to normal levels, the project should be fine.
Dude. Long post. Two sleeps until the Return of the King!
LORD OF THE RINGS comes out WEDNESDAY! YAYAYAYAYA! And I have tickets for the eight o'clock showing and a COSTUME. Elise has a costume too: She will be attired as a hobbit lass, in a red flower-print peasant skirt, light yellow bodice of the same print, and cream blouse. I am extremely excited.
Just came from drama, where Leah Wilson continues to drive me crazy. We're working on a little musical number to be presented in the school theatre Wednesday and/or Thursday and she just knows better than anyone, except possibly Jen Hicks. Whenever anyone comes up with an idea, she smacks it down or says, "Jen, you're the dancer, would that work?" and then Jen is in an awkward position between two people's ideas, so she's kind of left holding the bag when Leah doesn't like an idea. Leah is always correcting the other group members, loudly, shrilly, and bitchily, on our counting, our facial expressions, our use of props... well, any aspect of the number is open to her constant criticism. Nor am I the only person who feels this way, everyone is going insane. And someone (I don't remember who; the red mist that had descended on my vision so I couldn't see them) said that Leah is basically the worst dancer in the group. You all know that I am a fairly tolerant person and pride myself on not being, you know, a *total* bitch. So someone whose behaviour makes me feel like that about her is someone who is probably getting a fair go of it from me, but has succeeded in taking me from impartial to insane.
Leah is also Grad president. I am so, so very glad I'm not on grad council. Honestly, though, half the graduating class seems to be on it, so they really don't need my help. My "help", were I there, would consist of "uh, this seems like kind of a waste of time, hey? Why don't we all go back to my place, I'll make some cookies, and we can just mail the diplomas out later." So it's probably for the best I didn't join. School-sanctioned parties are overrated.
Wow. All this negativity. Let's talk about something positive instead.
Um.
Oh! Here we go. Elise had her birthday party Sunday and we went to Crankpots and it was quite fun. Her cake was *fabulous*, really moist chocolate cake with white chocolate-coconut icing. YUM. And she got the world's hottest Orlando Bloom poster. DOUBLE YUM! (hehe... telephone... crunchy... yum)
And Tom had his birthday party Friday night and I took a quiet moment to tell him I love him and he told me he loved me, without a moment's hesitation.
Billy (the Chef) also thinks Leah is horrid and not actually doing such a great job on the dancing herself. He came over and told me so, not two seconds ago. But if my group can collectively get its blood pressure down to normal levels, the project should be fine.
Dude. Long post. Two sleeps until the Return of the King!
Wow, it's been a while. Time does fly when you are... having fun? Sure, why not.
Weekend was okay, but unproductive. I babysat for a new client, whose child Zane is four months old and very very cute.
Crap, there's a class coming into the library, so I must move. Back shortly...
Weekend was okay, but unproductive. I babysat for a new client, whose child Zane is four months old and very very cute.
Crap, there's a class coming into the library, so I must move. Back shortly...
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Long weekend and sleep incompatible. Natch.
I am having such a crappy week. It's not PMS. Everything just seems to be going badly. Over the next few weeks I have many exams, my theory test, the SAT II, 5 billion choir gigs, lots of essays to write, and I'm still here wasting my time on the computer like it'll all just go away.
Am pissed at Drew, yet again for no reason except that he annoys me. We watched a tragic, tragic video about the end of the Holocaust today in social studies, with footage from when the Allies overran the camps toward the end of the war and all the people and bodies they found, and it was just about the most horrific, terrible thing I've ever seen. Drew chose to describe this canvas of human suffering as "gross". Gross inhumanity that would be! But no, just gross. I cried during the movie and almost again during math class (the bane of my existence) and it was just bad.
Bad stuff is happening to other people too. To whit, Katie's blog, see Dec. 1. Also, Marissa, who is my bitching buddy (we take the bus together and whine about all the crap that's wrong in our lives -- not a positive pastime, but we is what we is), is grieving for a close friend of the family who died of brain cancer just a day or two ago.
And I was looking at Adam just before I almost cried in math and what a fucking loser I am that I still like him, even at all, when he is obviously barely aware of my existence and yet I act like a complete prig around him.
Vanessa is having a surprise party thrown for her tomorrow (she doesn't have this address, so it's fine!) and I'm not invited. Which shouldn't bother me because we don't really hang out, and besides Friday is early-to-bed night to prepare for the SAT II, but it kind of does make me feel excluded from the group that I used to be so close to. Everyone's changing but me. The only change I ever seem to make is to complain more. And here I am, complaining about complaining. How meta.
A bad day. When Katie has a bad day, her blog is one long paragraph, and mine is many tiny ones. Probably because Katie will elaborate on one terrible thing, while I will kibitz about many, many small inconsiderate things that happen every day and wear me down more some days than others. Maybe if I go to bed incredibly late tonight and go through tomorrow like a zombie I will feel better. I may finish some of my homework, at least.
More cheerfully, my Christmas shopping is nearly done. I am well pleased with it: the only presents I have left to get are for Laura, Jeanne, Kim, Elise, and... damn, guess I'm not doing that well.
I am having such a crappy week. It's not PMS. Everything just seems to be going badly. Over the next few weeks I have many exams, my theory test, the SAT II, 5 billion choir gigs, lots of essays to write, and I'm still here wasting my time on the computer like it'll all just go away.
Am pissed at Drew, yet again for no reason except that he annoys me. We watched a tragic, tragic video about the end of the Holocaust today in social studies, with footage from when the Allies overran the camps toward the end of the war and all the people and bodies they found, and it was just about the most horrific, terrible thing I've ever seen. Drew chose to describe this canvas of human suffering as "gross". Gross inhumanity that would be! But no, just gross. I cried during the movie and almost again during math class (the bane of my existence) and it was just bad.
Bad stuff is happening to other people too. To whit, Katie's blog, see Dec. 1. Also, Marissa, who is my bitching buddy (we take the bus together and whine about all the crap that's wrong in our lives -- not a positive pastime, but we is what we is), is grieving for a close friend of the family who died of brain cancer just a day or two ago.
And I was looking at Adam just before I almost cried in math and what a fucking loser I am that I still like him, even at all, when he is obviously barely aware of my existence and yet I act like a complete prig around him.
Vanessa is having a surprise party thrown for her tomorrow (she doesn't have this address, so it's fine!) and I'm not invited. Which shouldn't bother me because we don't really hang out, and besides Friday is early-to-bed night to prepare for the SAT II, but it kind of does make me feel excluded from the group that I used to be so close to. Everyone's changing but me. The only change I ever seem to make is to complain more. And here I am, complaining about complaining. How meta.
A bad day. When Katie has a bad day, her blog is one long paragraph, and mine is many tiny ones. Probably because Katie will elaborate on one terrible thing, while I will kibitz about many, many small inconsiderate things that happen every day and wear me down more some days than others. Maybe if I go to bed incredibly late tonight and go through tomorrow like a zombie I will feel better. I may finish some of my homework, at least.
More cheerfully, my Christmas shopping is nearly done. I am well pleased with it: the only presents I have left to get are for Laura, Jeanne, Kim, Elise, and... damn, guess I'm not doing that well.
