this house is like Russia, with eyes cold and gray

Warning. School and fandom related babblings ahead.

Aside from Word and spreadsheet exams, I'm done. Got my keyboarding-twenty without having to do anything because my marks were just that high in keyboarding ten. Six credits. I'm doing the tests in January. Yay!

Pigtales and my new leather jacket and my new black scarf that I got from Ice and my full length lace up skirt and leather accessories. Well, actually, the earings are metal, and the collar is vinal. Shut up. The boots and bracelet are leather, so there. And listening to Tori Amos. And I have no actual work to do all period! Or, for that matter, for the rest of the periods in this block in this semester. Victory is mine, and such.

Black makeup and nail polish, too. Comes from watching two episodes of NCIS last night. Which, btw, included the most fangirlish Gibbs/Abby moment in existance. It was 'Kill Ari', and the part where Abby gets shot at, and Gibbs is like, "I'm getting you bullet proof glass."
And she's like "There's no such thing."
And then he says "Bullet resistant, then."

And he kisses her on the forhead and tells her that he'll protect her. I went through convultions after that.

Oh, and my mom and I were arguing over who was more likely to be bi, Abby or Ziva, and I was all 'Abby's wierd! Abby's cool! Abby's *totally* bi!'
And my mom was all 'Ziva's more likely to try new things, more adventurous, bla bla bla. And Abby's to frajile.'
Which doesn't really have anything to do with the original issue, as I see it.
And last night Ziva was taunting Tony when he asked her who had recruited her to Mosad, and he was like 'Brother, father, uncle, lover?'
And she was mocking him and was like 'Aunt, sister, lesbian mother?'
And my mom mocked me. I told her to shut up. ...she still mocked me.

...kay. I'm done now.

And...love love love Cote de Pablo's acting. To no end, I tell you. No. end.

Ziva: "Where's Gibbs?"
Tony: "That's the first thing you said to me when we met."
Ziva: "...no. I asked you if you were having phone sex."

I killed myself after that. rotflmao

*yawn*

Slept in again this morning, yet still ended up with enough time to go to Timmy's with my dad and Kcatt per usual on Thursdays.

Told 'guy beside me' to get me a candycane during math because candycanes are goooood. And math sucks ass and I hate it and want it to burn and he got 40% on the quiz and I swear to God I got higher than him. Mwha.

And you have absolutely no idea how strong my compultion to write 'vampire! Abby' fic is right now. None. at. all.

"a sorta fairytale with you"

Just...not really, so much.
*wanders off*

"on my way up north
up on the Ventura
I pulled back the hood
And I was talking to you.

And I knew that it would be
A life long thing
But I didn't know we
Could break a silver lining."

gotta love Tori...

bored

I’m lonely when you’re not around
And alone when you are
And thinking of every single thing but you
When you’re coming down from your adrenalin high.

For thoughts of consequences shattered your dream
I am not what I want or how you would like
To see me as your dream revitalized
And brought back to life to have me and not have me at all.

Like a rose you think I think you’re helpless
And as time goes by you realize
I am not a rose but I am helpless
In some corner of my mind when I have time.

Maybe barking up the wrong willo tree
Or lying in the snow at eight PM and it’s freezing
Three times a day when you say we’re fine
But your petals are frozen in the snow as I fly away.

We are not will not be and were never fine
I am a frozen rose and you are something
A rose by any other name would still be frozen
When a certain amount of time has been suspended just for us.

U. S.
No not now me me me
I am not you; I am your evil twin
I am frozen and you are dead.

Ice crystallizing on your stem
I will shatter you than let you freeze like me
You will fall and I will stay the same
And you will be better off that way.

I promise.

ug!

Okay, so?
Surfing around on the interweb in the library because I have nothing better to do because I finished my math test this morning and have no homework and really have nothing to do this block, I came across a filmography for Cote de Pablo.

…actors I like can *stop* having roles on ‘All My Children’ any time now. First Keith Hamilton Cobb. Now Cote de Pablo. *facepalm*

(2:52)

ug!

Death!
Okay, so, so, so...I have been able to fix the time on each post I make because I'm an hour ahead of actual blogger time and it's really annoying but I could do it at least up until this morning at which point I couldn't and it pissed me off but I figured that maybe the 'net at school was fucked up so I tried to do it at home and it didn't work and killkilldiediesmashsmash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*takes deep breath*
Okay. I'm done.

Currently 7:44.

class

Doooooom on spreadsheets!
...ahem.

So. My class? Let's see.
There's:
Guy Beside Me who is an utter slacker, probably going to fail this class, doing spreadsheets at the same time I am, quite funny and actually talks to me like a human being.

Ex?-stalker: ...*whimper* Make him go awaaaaaay.

V's brother: ...who doesn't talk to me in this class, but aside from that is a nice guy.

Smart Guy With A Lisp sits on the other side of me, always helps me with computer problems, and is really annoyed with the girl beside him who is desperately flirting with him.

And then there's the gaggle of girls who giggle, talk about things that I could care less about, and only talk to me because I let them play with the dog. They all kind of blend together into one big line up of clones.

Honestly, the class could be a lot worse. It could, for instance, be my math class. If I had to deal with those people twice a day I'd go on a murderous rampage, then jump out a window.

Listening to Bryan Adams.

Ug.
So, due to power outages, the network was down for the first half of class. Actually, a bit over the first half. I did math, drank coffee and listened to Tori Amos.
And then I did my C++ theory final. 71%. I suck.
And then I flitted over to ff.net, to see if I'd gotten any reviews on my latest NCIS fic. Two since when I posted it at like, midnight-thirty last night! Again, I was forced to restrain my manic grinning whilst being in the lab. And the guy beside me who wouldn't ask for help with C++? He's nice. Still, though, mrrgghh.

...the end!

waitress

My ex(?)-stalker
is in this class
with me.

He's a scarey
scarey little child
and I don't
like him.

All of my stories this morning, anything I try to write is devolving into the sort of stamping feet, name calling, screaming conflict that one sees in Jr. High. Except that I'm writing about mature adults, so that doesn't work, so much. I really wish the words would come to me. I'm writing a seduction piece in one window that I've got all planned out in my head. The other window has a thriller/action/adventure that I've been working on all of this week, and that, so far, has come rather well. Today, I'm just writing conflict, and then errasing it. My characters are acting irrationally, without thought on my part or theirs. Nothing's coming together. All the words sound forced and ake and they're bringing me back to a time about four years ago when every sentence had to have the same structure, and everyone either 'said, screamed or muttered' and everything was 'hard, soft, flat or rough' and second person writing wasn't even a thought in my mind and run on sentences like this would have made me run screaming in fear. That's all I wrote, back then. Conflict of the Jr. High variety. That is why my novel's not being finished, ever. I look back, and my characters have grown up about sixteen years in the course of five chapters, and then I realize that that's because I started the thing in February of 2002 and now it's 2005, almost 2006 and I've grown a lot, too. My characters need some stability. They can't resolve everything by having temper tantrumes and sneering and yelling and brandishing guns at anything that moves. Such offenses as stealing a shuttle aren't forgiven without a second thought, and anti-terrorist organizations don't go eighty years without being detected on a space station that's only been in orbit for a hundred. It. just. doesn't. work.

And Greg he writes letters
And burns his CDs
They say you were something
In those formitive years.

Well hold on to nothing
As fast as you can
Still
Pretty good year.

(Tori Amos, Pretty Good Year)

ahem

Idiots in this class are ...idioting at me. Make them go away. I'm sick of people wanting to pet the dog. The sad thing? The guy beside me who's doing absolutely no work and should, for all intents and perposes be making me ready to rip out my own eyeballs, is actually rather amusing and I much prefere him to the giggly stupid girls. ...much.

Anywauy!
...NCIS/LOST!!!

happy phantom

A seventeen-year-old boy died
Over the weekend.

He went to my school
But I didn't know him
Had never even heard his name
Mentioned in conversation.

He died senselessly
For no good reason other than
The people
He was haning out with
Were
Drunk.

Note to self
Listening to Tori's remake of
'I Don't Like Monedays'
Is bad.

And on a lighter note
Kate/Sawyer/Jack.
...Kcatt?

Bliss

I could, theoretically
grituitusly quote Tori Amos
right now.

I will not
To save your brains
Which you hold so very much
In a very high favour.

And maybe if I let it
This song will get out of my head
And let me
Sleep.

I doubt it.

oh dear Lord...

Ok, so, there's these two people beside me. Right beside me.
And they just started C++ this morning. I *whispers* don't think they get it!!!!
Like, fuck!

Anyway. So, I'm sitting *right* beside them, right?
And Mr. C specifically told them to ask me about any issues they might have, because I've done this before. They...aren't, so much. And now they're asking him...

Yeah. Gods forbid they get 'blindy desease'.
...they didn't save the file before they tried to run it. Oh. My God.

Ok, I'm done.

I finally got
my nice keyboard back
from the depths of
God knows where
in the lab.

And people can stop talking in British accents
Any time now.

hehe

Oh. my God.
Autosummarizing stories in Word is amazing. I need to find more things to do this to.
hehehehehe

And yes, I have done some work today. But seriously, I'm putting off the one-handed typing for as long as humanly possible. It sucks. And I don't know if I'll have time to study for C++ this week due to my social exam today, science exam tomorrow and math exam on Thursday. *yawns*

The soundtrack this morning is 'Garbage, ~ Cup Of Coffee'.
I was listening to Bryan Adams earlier.

non-productivity

If anyone wants to give me info on William Lyon Mackenzie King and his political career, I’d love you forever and such things.

This period…has not been productive. Like, at all. Aside from my fourteen pages of notes, but I still need to read those, and put them into something I can use for a speech…to…do…something. *trails off*

victory is mine!

...except not, because it's not normal to snort with laughter in the middle of the computer lab over the fact that I got *two* reviews this morning, that I just read! Fear me!
*bounces*
She said she knew what my books did not
I thought she knew
What's up.

Now, how to tell this girl that I *am* a Gibbs/Abby shipper, but I was just feeling a little depressive the night I wrote that...*trails off*

OOO! And the way are talking and telling the entire room about how I burned this kid I don't even know a few minutes ago! Yes, yes. Life is good. ...and now I'm going to stop smirking demonically, because I'm pretty sure it doesn't look normal.

Hey
They found a body
Not sure that it's his still they're using his name.
And she
gave him shelter
And somewhere I know she knows
Somewhere I knows she knows
Somethings, only she knows...

boredness

Ok, so, the boredom of this new module I’m doing? It’s eating my soul.

…yeah, that‘s all

…heh, I’m good. The teacher just came over. He turned on my screen. He thought I was working because…well, until about five minutes ago, I was. I’ve settled on talking to other people now. Even if they do scare me.
They say I’m funny because I can’t control my sarcasm. Mwha


Currently listening to Tori Amos, God.
Because you all needed to know that.

Yay!

/*Chapter three, excersise nine
Name, 11/03/05*/

#include iostream.h

int main()
{
int change;
cout <<"enter amount of change:";
cin >> change;
int quarters = (change/25);
int dimes = ((change%25)/10);
int nickles = (((change%25)%10)/5);
int pennies = ((((change%25)%10)%5)/1);
cout << "change:" << endl;
cout << "quarters:" << quarters << endl;
cout <<"dimes:" << dimes << endl;
cout <<"nickles:" << nickles << endl;
cout <<"pennies:" << pennies << endl;
return(0);
}

Now I just have to do the test tomorrow...or Monday, depending on my lazyness level tonight when it comes to studying. Yay!

zzz

C++ is eating my brain. Seriously. little << signs are dancing in front of my eyeballs.
Apparently, our school's internet is so slow because we're not on the 'supernet', which is apparently the new internet network for our school district. Therefor, the old one is slowly shutting down...and we're the last school to get transfered! Yay!

Didn't sleep all that much last night. And I'm not even that highly caffeinated. *sigh*

Working on NCIS fic, now. Because coding ate the remainder of my brain and I really don't want to go to science.

WB quote

Sara: You ever have one of those moments where you feel something big just happened?
Danny: And you don't know what it was? Never. You're nuts.



Heather has to go to the bathroom, apparently. Isn't that special for her addled little brain. I think so. I bet you don't, though.

school...

...needs to die.
Had a minor breakdown today that...wasn't so minor, really. And lasted all day.
All is well now, though. Maybe. I'm not sure.

Mmm...cookies...

Ok…um, so there’s this woman. Somewhere in her twenties or thirties, I’m not sure. And she’s a painter. She’s been living alone for, I don’t know, ten or fifteen years and she’s kind of lost contact with her family. I mean, she talks to them sometimes, Christmas, the occasional birthday, but usually there’s nothing. And she’s, um, living in this little apartment over a café or bar or something like that. She’s renting it for a ridiculously low rate, so she’s taken to staying in and painting. And she’s waiting for this thing to happen. She’s not really sure what it is, but it’s somewhere in the back of her head kind of sitting there, and it’s going ‘I’m coming, get ready’. And she’s not entirely sure what she’s going to do when it comes. Not quite sure of a lot of things, really. And she’s got this half-formed plan in her head somewhere mixed in with everything else that she’s just going to up and leave one day. Go…I don’t know. Across the country. To another country. Somewhere exotic and amazing and she’s not going to bring anything but the esentuals, and just lose herself in the sun and sand and wind and water and paint. The more logical part of her brain is repetitively telling her that this dream, fantasy, whatever it is is just on this side of impossible. She’s kind of confused, kind of misty and screwed up inside and she’s not even really sure if she’s still in our reality anymore. ‘Cause she’s just kind of been stuck, in this downward, um, spiral and she’s not quite sure even what started it or why she’s there and she’s never been depressed, just confused.

this might help…a bit

something to do

Hi, kids!!
I? have nothing to write about!
Yay!
Heather is back from Callgary!
And....yeah!
*is bored*

What do I want to do with the rest of the night?
I could write fic/work on various other projects/indulge my general manicness.
Or I could sit and listen to gothy music and be a typical depressed, sulen teenager.
Or I could frantically search out people on MSN and AIM and the phoneline and make them amuse me.
Or I could sit here and read fic. Constantly. Until my brain melts and I head off to bed having accomplished absolutely nothing.

Rommie and I returned to the gothy store today, but she was very frightened of it. *cackles*
Didn't buy anything. May have to drag Heather there, instead.

May go hang out with Heather tomorrow.
Or, alternately, I may go see War Of The Worlds with K. Because she's like, four years older than me and is so very much cooler than I.

*Bek*

For those of you who care:

I will not be available tonight, as I am writing E.FC fic.
I am going to get my book signed by Malcolm tomorrow afternoon.
I am also singing in public for the last time tomorrow.
And I am all red and bblack. Come on, you know you want to know how I scared people during my seven hours at the mall today.

Black:
eyeshadow
under tanktop
skirt
half of earings
vinal choker
Leather bracelet

Red:
Over tanktop
blood red rose painted on side of face
Other part of earings
Spiked heart on choker

And I saw Batman. And bought shit for other people who are not me. And ate. And hung out with Josh and Rommie. Josh is now renamed Rhade. I have just decided this.

Somebody get me out of here
I'm tearing off my skin.

Yeah, actually, I am listening to Garbage! Good job, non-existant reader person who doesn't exist!

So. Finals start tomorrow. Let us all jump up and down in joyous love of that which is torture. Jumps up and down.

As many of you will undoubtably read later in my lj, I spent the weekend up at the cabin. I studied, watched E.FC, Tracker and Labyrinth which, by the way, is possessed of much too much David Bowy for my fragile sanity.
Those of you special enough to know my real net-identity will read the uncondensed version on various other less upblic blogs later tonight/tomorrow morning.

And Heather has a frozen mouth, and is humming Oh Canada. She is also adding a gallery to her site, which is a good thing because every singer/actor/whatever else you can be to achieve fame has a gallery. And we get pics of Heather! And believe me, Rommie and I have some embarrassing ones.

And it is exceedingly hot in my office.
I wish for school to be over.
And Heather is going to feed her cat.
And now, before I began rambling on about unimportant matters, I shall go off and leave you all in relitive peace as I frantically write E.FC fic. Depressive here, people. Eagerly awaiting manic. ...Eagerly. .....very, very eagerly.

timezones

There. Now I feel stupid. I should sleep.

Insert subject line here

Dude. Gradish thingy that's not really Grad in one day. WHEE! Aside from the two hour long cerimony. And the whole...dance, thing. Which Heather may or may not be coming to.

So. I have blisters lining the bottom of my feet. And am at the point where the caffeine hasn't quite hit and really needs to start working like right now because if it doesn't I'm going to kill something in a very violent manner. And that would be bad. Found downtown's gothy store. Also. Rock teeshirt store. Whee. And I can't go for lunch downtown unless I'm over eighteen and smoke. Pretty much. Damn idiots with their sticks of cancerness...

science

Wow. I really suck at science practice exams.
Yeah.
I do.
Heh.
Go me.

I don't spend all my time in the lab, I swear.
Really.
I don't.

essay

Praise has no meaning to me anymore. It is merely a sequence of letters. And my spellcheck doesn't work.

PRAISE

Beethoven’s Kiss

Name:
Class: 93
Date: June 2, 2005



I believe that praise, if given in proper amounts and at the proper time, can be very beneficial in encouraging an individual to continue and improve in the area in which they received it. In this writing, Foldes received praise from people who he looked up to, which gave him the strength to carry on with his music.

Praise, in small doses, and given when truly deserved can be a precious gift, and a good reminder to the person receiving it that they are doing an excellent job. However, when praise is given excess and too often can become stagnant and meaningless, and can cause the person to doubt their ability and the sincerity of the person or persons giving the praise. People appreciate praise the most most when it is given in truthfully and when it is deserved. Often, when one receives praise, they have a hard time believing that it is senceer, and therefore it is better to give praise only when you truly mean it.

Personally, I feel that if someone praises me, it is often due to things that are truly not deserving of praise (i.e. Walking down the street alone, I have been told how brave I am). In areas that I do enjoy getting praise, such as writing or school work, I am happy enough as long as I am not criticized, and praise is merely an extra benefit that is greatly appriceated however not expected nor required. In the piece of writing “Bethoven’s Kiss” the author seems starved for praise, and is greatly delighted when he receives it. I am sure that this is true of many people, and is not a bad thing, merely a different mindset.

I conclutiion, I believe that praise is a good thing that is appreciated by all when it is given truthfully. Foldes greatly appriceated the praise he was given, as he received little of it, and the praise came from men he truly respected and therefore meant a great deal to him. Different people react to praise in different ways, but it is always a good thing.


***

So. After break Josh, Chelz and Sanina came and said hi to us.
Kcatt told me to say hi.
I said hi.
Then they left.
Then I did this essay.
Then...Kcatt hit Hana.
By mistake.
Then..........yeah!
This is very boringish!

hehe

lallalaalalalalalalalalalalalalalala!
Who knows how to make jaws say rrrrr a lot?

Who wants to pay to get the other blind kids in the lab headphones?!!!

Go read Kcatt's story!
Read it here, it's amazing!

Nicole whins.
And me, too.
And Sammy just kidnapped Kcatt.
And...and...and...yeah!

I'm so very bored.

Whee.

I don't wanna do the personal response for English.

Nope, I really don't.

Hehe.

Can it be the end of the day yet?

Please?

No?

Fine. Be that way.

*Bek*

bad day

Bad. frelling. day.

Hate hate hate teachers.

Hate.

And late notes.
And essays.

Good things:
Timmy's!
Found a blogger that works at school!
Band!
Boling!
Gym tonight!

Bad things:
Braillelite dead.
Shitty mark on honours project.
Ms. V pulled back the deadline for the essay.
My instructions for essay scattered across the hall.
I couldn't find them.
My EA isn't here today, and the other EA can't get into her files to reprint instructions.
Headache.
Teeth hurt.
Nebbe man.
One more late note and I get detention.
None of the late notes are my fault, as I was at the dentist/aurthodentist.

Bad. day.

*Bek*

Rip your soul apart...

Hey, look at that! If I wanna update anymore of my blogs now, I'm gonna have to create another one on another site!
Yeah, I am bored.
Yep.
*yawns*
Hehhehhehehe.
According to my father our house is a horror. Go our house. My dad is odd.
And Kcatt messed up the coffee. Somehow. Magicly. And she can't deny it because she's on the phone to Sammy.
*yawn*
la
la
la
la
la
la
la
;la
la
la
la
la
la
la
Yep.
HI!
Somebody come on AIM or MSN and talk to me!
Please?

Pour your misery down on me

It is still fricken raining.
The thingy got canceled.
I was going to do so many things today.
God damnit.

Only happy when it rains

Just...not right now, damnit!

Dude. Seriously now.

Stop.

Raining.

Right.

Now.

coffee?

I do not need coffee to get through the day. Really. I don't.

Why don't I have a ......not title thingy for this blog?

Currently listening to Alanis Morissette and waiting for Heather to magicly call, even though I know she's already in class. *pouts*

I shall go get coffee, now.

*Bek*

WHEEE! PRETTY!

Sleep! It is so very pretty and shiny and sparkly and so wanted right now it's not even funny. School today was...school. Many classes that were evil. But, but, but...I had caddy! I hid it in my purse and ate it all day. And I'm failing the math test. And...yeah!

In Phys-Ed all I did was bounce on the excercize ball and listen to the radio. Mrs. Lashta is awsome. And we watched a boring video in French. And...yeah. Chelzy was gonna come rescue me during French, but she didn't get the chance. *pouts*
Social was boring. It was so boring, in fact, that I don't remember anything about it. Litterally. that's pretty bad, eh?

Science was just marking worksheets, that I so didn't do...sometimes I really wonder how I get these marks. I think I have my own personal fairy that sneaks into the computers and makes my marks honours standard just before every report card. I am very greatful to this fairy, if she/he exists. hehe
I went out for lunch with my father, and Timmy's got my sandwitch order wrong, giving me chicken instead of tuna. ewww. And my father got me coke instaid of icedtea, so my stomach was upset all afternoon.
Math consisted of a test, which I proceeded to fail quite badly.
And finally, another period of science in which we marked worksheets. Our class is made of idiots. But me and Kristen don't listen. Go us. We suck.

I was hoping to go hang out at the mall with Kirstie and Kristen after their drama practice, but the faits were conspiring against me, landing me at my computer all night, posting in all of my various blogs, and chatting on AIM.

If you wish to contact me on AIM, and only know me through this blog, my screen name is BekaValentine34. I don't bight. I promise.

There. I have managed to make five entries tonight, three in my lj, one in my xanga and one here, and they all have been on different topics. Thou shalt worshep me.

I'm going to attempt to catch a bit of sleep now.

*Bek*

pretty

I must be a masochist. I make jobs for myself to do. I suck.

Hello.

I am in love with Tyr. I am going to marry him. He is not really dead. He's just...on vacation. Or planning the next uprising of the Nietzschean people. He's gonna come rescue us from Seafra with the help of purple Trance and Rev. And then Dylan's gonna die, and I'll be friends with Harper again. And...I suck.

I saw Hitch today. It lasted much too longishly. And tomorrow, I shall show Chelzy DVDs of the old days. When Tyr wasn't dead, and Dylan wasn't an ass. And when me and Harper were best friends.

And I like chocolate.

*Bek*

Raining blood

Yes, let us all watch Beka be bored. *is bored*

*is still bored*

*is bored*

K, I'm done now.

evil, evil, evil incarnate!

*dies* This is not my writing. I don't suck this badly. All the old people and mildly hot instructor do *not* need to see this.

*pouts*

*********

CARMIN



I listen to three different songs at once to provide some sort of company. My roommate moved out six months ago. I’ve been doing two jobs to just keep my pitiful little apartment. My music is violent. “But I believe in peace, bitch.”

I’ve discovered that people scare me. Normal people. The perfect little wives in their perfect little SUVs, the primping, powdering, puffing girls. The pretty girls with their nine inch nails and…yeah. I like Tori Amos. She’s singing in one ear. M&M is screaming somewhere behind me. There’s something sad playing from my computer speakers, but I can’t identify it off the top of my head.

I forced a friend to listen to Tori Amos a few days ago. She said that her singing was very raw, emotional and touching. It sounded deep. It sounded like she really knew what she was talking about. Then she went off and chased boys with her clique, and I sat in a corner and talked to my best friend on my cell phone. I’m not pathetic. I’m just not *not* pathetic. Does that make any sense? No, didn’t think so.

I got sick of smoking. People say it’s bad for you. Fine. I stopped smoking. That lasted about a day. I’ve started smoking clove cigarettes. But I still haven’t touched a drop of alcohol. Never. In my life. Alcohol’s a too- obvious way of self-destructing. I’m not an obvious person.

I hate deadlines. They hurt when you run into them. I do that a lot, and yet I’m still kept on at my job for some reason I can’t quite comprehend. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

I’m taking English this semester. Again. I like the Prof. She’s got the same sort of ideas that I do. I do not, however, like the class. None of them would know a pro if it came up and smacked them on their overly made up faces. Except ‘Cute Skinny Guy’. He sits in front of me and quotes Star Wars. And he knows when I’m flirting with him. Not that I am, you know. Flirting with him, I mean. Because I’m not.

Neil tells me I crush on way too many people. It’s not true. After class I spent about an hour stalking the Mr. Sub girl, until my scary Social Sciences prof tried to get me to help him with the computers in the lab. I know that they weren’t malfunctioning, because Neil personally went over them all today. This morning. I watched him do it. That is why I missed Social Sciences. Talk about bad karma.

After running away from the lab, I went and knocked on Kira’s door. She wasn’t home, but I went in anyway. Borrowed her dye. My hair is now a nice shade of purple. I like it, at least. And I will pay her back for the dye. Eventually. I…swear. After that I met Neil and we went and hung out at Mr. Sub. Tuna is yummy! Didn’t see stalkee there. *pout*

I returned to Neil’s to use his computer, as my Internet was disconnected by the fairies. He left about fifteen minutes ago to find us icecream. Mmm…nice best friends…

I’ve decided that guys who play the guitar are hot. Unhealthily so. And no, nobody that I know personally plays. But, the guy at the music shop does. I was there picking up Neil’s trumpet, and the guy behind the counter and I quoted Shakespeare at each other. Then he played ‘Bryan Adams’ for me. Then I walked out with the stupid trumpet, and I haven’t thought of him since. That was three days ago. I’m allowed just one quick ponderence. Ponderence. Is that even a word?

Coffee is my friend. Five page English essays are not. I dislike Microsoft word count, because I think it leaves all the little words such as ‘and’ and ‘the’ out of its calculations. Little words like those are how I made it through high school with an honours average. They’re my friends, but Word just has to go distort them. But that’s ok, because we all know that Bill Gates is taking over the world. Or he’s planning it. Or he already has. Yeah. Sleep deprivation. I’m usually good for about 24 hours. I’ve been up for 36. I’m not good.

I’m going to find a way to take over the English department. I’ve just decided that. If I did that, I wouldn’t have to hand in this essay in…umm…eight hours. Such things as extensions are absolutely unheard of phenomenon in this class. It’s not the prof’s fault. It’s the fairies. They really don’t like me, you know? It’s got to be revenge for something. I laughed at Tinkerbell when I was twelve. That’s gotta be it. I’m sorry, Tink.




***

*Bek*

death

I'm going to kill her. Slowly. It will envolve bloody entrales dribbling out of the place where her now smashed and mutalated head used to be.

I am refering to my math teacher.

You can all go do something interesting, now.

Yes. Go. Vanish without a trace.

I'm leaving, now.

Heather, I know you're reading this because you didn't know I had a blogger account. Well, guess what? I do. Congradulations. No one else needs to know it exists. *no one*

Hi, Hez! *waves*


*Bek*

ok...

Ok...I'm good. I'm going to set up an appointment with a counsilor at the school downtown, and see what they have for blind support, and what the chances of us even getting in are considering we're from out-of-district.

*nods*

I'm ok. I swear to God, I'm ok.

But I just keep thinking, if I don't get in, me and Rommie are never gonna make it to Vancouver.

But...I'm ok.


Bek

wow

Um yeah. Rommie just informed me that she's going to the High School in downtown. That's an entirely different school system than the one we're in right now. I don't know if I *can* transfer. I want to, believe me, I desperately do. I want to stay with her and work with her like we've been planning, and I want to become a screenwriter, damnit! But...um...with the visiual impairment thing, I don't know if it's even possible to switch. I was going to email the princepal and ask some questions, but the site isn't JAWS accessable. Convenient, eh?

I'm just so...crushed and I'm crying randomly and I feel soo soo sick.

Bek