Thursday, June 30, 2005

I don't like Tom Cruise (and I really hate the over-exposure lately), and I don't like sci-fi (save Star Wars). I don't know how I could sit through [War of the Worlds] without gnawing the eyes out of my face. (Let's ignore the fact that it's physically impossible for me to gnaw the eyes out of my face.)

Yeah, I'm vain enough to quote myself because I think I'm funny. Anyone who wears a hat like that is funny. That's my Mardi Gras hat. If you go to Mardi Gras, you have to have a hat. That is mine. She's a patriotic chicken.

After I left school today, I ran never-ending errands, made a bunch of waterballoons, went to the youth activity, and then went to friends' house to par-tay because I FINISHED STUPID PHYSICS LAB TODAY. I'm pretty sure I aced the final. Anyway, until about 30 minutes ago I hadn't eaten anything since 2:00 in the afternoon. I had a mad craving for a tuna fish sandwich, but my friends didn't have tuna fish. Who doesn't have tuna fish?! Get tuna fish, everybody!...or some canned chicken if you prefer. So I left their house at 12:30, but everything is closed here at that hour except Wal-Mart (I didn't want to get raped or mugged.) and gas stations. (I don't know why I think I would get raped or mugged there less than at a Wal-Mart.) So I whipped into the gas station parking lot and went inside looking for one thing: (You think I'm about to say tuna fish, don't you?) a pre-packaged tuna fish sandwich. Too my delight, there was one waiting there for me. I don't know what kind of bacteria was growing in it; I don't know how long it had been sitting there; I don't care. My stomach did a leap, and I can go to bed now, satisfied and happy. I'm pretty sure that the unknown bacteria contained in the sandwich will eat up my insides by the time I plan on getting up in the morning. (NO CLASS TOMORROW!!!)

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

While driving home from school today and passing a dead, fly-swarmed raccoon in the road, I remembered the other thing I was going to write about last night: the smell of dead animals in the Summer. It's gross. I won't go further into that.

Monday, June 27, 2005

A couple of things:

1. I have absolutely hated driving around lately. It seems like everyone has forgotten how to do it: how to turn right on red, how to work a 4-way stop, how to work a turn-about (They never knew how to work one of those in the first place.), how to go when the light switches to green, how to turn left when cars are REALLY FAR AWAY AND THE ONLY WAY THEY CAN HIT YOU IS IF YOU STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR TURN AND SWITCH THE CAR OFF AND WAIT THERE FOR 25 SECONDS TO TAKE THE HIT BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT, how to use the acceleration lane (See note following "how to work a turn-about".), how to go at least 50 on HWY 165 (It's not a residential street, folks!), etc. I could go on and on all night long. It bothers me to drive around when people who don't know how to do those things are on the road. When I am going somewhere, people, I just want to get there. Get out of my way, and don't hamper me. Last week was exceptionally bad because it was the time of the month when I am hormonally allowed to be excessively violent and agitated, and if I had had a gun in my car, flesh wounds would have been had. While I was driving around, I even took the time to plan out my defense. It was all laid out in my head, and I would be free today, and there would be fewer idiots on the road.

Today, I went to lunch with Connie and Jamie. Our lunch is one of the highlights of our week. When we were returning to the office after eating, we took a different path than usual because I wanted to show them the monstrosity of a house that is being built right next to the university. It is said that it will be the largest house in all of Louisiana, and I must say that the only single family dwellings I have seen larger than this are castles. Anyway, the path we were taking to get there... There was construction that I had forgotten about, so before I reached the road work, I decided to turn left onto another road. There was a person in front of me also waiting to turn left. He/she was sitting there at the stop line instead of GETTING OUT INTO THE LANE so we wouldn't be trapped by another light. He/she just sat there, and I kept trying to coax him/her by inching forward, almost touching the bumper. He/she didn't take the hint even though I saw him/her looking back in his/her mirror. (You may be sensing that the sex of the individual was undetectable by looking at its face.) So there came a long pause in traffice, and as soon as the break started, I laid on my horn. There was no beep, beep, beeping, but full-on blaring of the horn. He/she pulled out a little further but did not go. I wanted to scream. I think I actually did. Finally, a longer pause came, and he/she went.

Everyone was relieved that we were finally moving again and that the moron had turned in a different direction than our path was headed. Jamie said the funniest thing I have heard all day: "I swear, drivin' around nowadays is like runnin' the Special Olympics." That killt me. I had to stop for a moment to dam up the pee. Seriously, though...that may be a harsh and insensitive thing to say, but it is accurate.

2. That's my baby girl, Mollie.

3. That isn't what the second thing was really going to be, but I got so emotionally involved in that story that I forgot what the real second thing I wanted to tell you is. So I will tell you of another idea I had today. When I left class this morning, I called a friend to tell her that I wanted a shirt that says, "It's so hard being this smart." She laughed heartily and responded by saying that I'd probably have to make myself one because no one is smart enough to have already made it. She's probably right.

I'll tell you why it's hard being this smart. I HAVE to take this physics class. There is no way around it. I mean, I could probably take an upper-level physics to satisfy the requirement, but I have never, ever taken a physics class before. I would be missing the most basic elements. I have learned, though, that those most basic elements are some of the most basic elements of life. Gravity, for example,...it's the force of the Earth on us. It's what keeps us on the ground. It's what pulls a ball back down to the ground after it's thrown into the air. It's what gives us weight. Easy as pie? Apparently not. I suffer every morning from 9:15 to 10:45 and every Tuesday-Thursday from 1:00 to 4:00. Normally, I would just skip class and learn the material on my own to avoid the daily torture, but ULM has THE. STRICTEST. attendance policy in the world. Professors actually call roll everyday, and if a student misses three classes, their name is sent to the department head. The student must then meet with the department head to discuss how those days are going to be made up. LAME! LAME! LAME! So, I'm trapped...forced to swim in a sea of stupidity...and it's really slimey in there.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Trevor has allowed me to join an unknown (until tonight) rank of people: those who have laptop parties. There I was at Broussards' house, and four of us were sitting on the couches tapping away at our laptops...each doing something different: Ashley, checking her hospital schedule for her upcoming, third year of med school; Gerald, composing love poems to the woman he loves, who has left him for the Summer to do whatever it is she's doing in Austria, Thailand, and Cambodia; Marion, checking airline tickets, I'm sure...planning her next escape from Monroe; and I, getting updated on the blogs I read and sending emails to faraway friends. We were all there being sociable and not at the same time. I found it quite thrilling, myself, being able to carry my laptop from place to place...no wires, no anchors securing me to one, tiresome position, yet maintaining an internet connection the entire time. I felt so free. I felt like I needed to be in a Starbucks or some such yuppy location. I felt like I should have been wearing a pair of cute, sassy glasses, with my hair up in a makeshift bun...you know...the kind held in place by my ballpoint pen. I felt like I needed to be perusing drafts of important documents containing the key to finally establishing world peace, all the while feeling guilty about neglecting my love sitting next to me in bed, waiting patiently for me to click the laptop shut for the evening. And then I looked over and all I saw was Gerald furiously composing his fifth sonnet of love and loneliness for the evening. And then he farted.

I desire to be entertained.

Saturday, June 25, 2005


My friends Michael and Tara have a cute 2-year-old boy named Davis, who loves me a lot. The other night when I was at their house, Davis wanted to wear his momma's socks, so I helped him put them on. Then he ran and fetched his "hat" that he and his mates made at preschool. It's nothing more than a piece of construction paper wrapped into a cone shape with some glued-on rubber foam squares. I'm not sure what kind of hat it's supposed to be. He ran back into the living room with the hat on, and I made him pose for a picture. He loves that.


Later on, I was looking at the picture wondering what it reminded me of. Then it came to me: he's "Le fifre" in the Manet painting only Davis is without a fife. Although...he has been running around with a recorder lately.

The parents of Davis told me a story last night that made me feel happy inside. Davis has gotten into the habit of going into their bedroom around 5:00 in the morning. Thursday morning, D went into their room, and Michael pulled him up onto the bed and held him until he fell back asleep. Michael put him on his mat at the end of their bed. At 6:00, Davis woke up crying because he had (I can't believe I'm about to type this) tee-teed, and it had leaked up out of his diaper and onto his stomach. So Michael took him to the bathroom to clean him up. M told me that D would not stop crying. He kept telling D, "It's okay, baby; I'll clean you up." And all D could blubber back in return was, "I want Cawee!" AWWWW!!! I love that little booger!


It's 2:20 AM. I love music that makes me sway violently and feel really happy inside.



I'm sure that if my g-ma were to just come peek in on me, you know...thinking she just wants to get a glimpse of my angelic, sleeping self, she would see a fool rocking heavily to and fro, lip-synching so as to not awaken the peeking g-ma, maybe playing an imaginary instrument or grabbing an imaginary microphone.



Yeah, I'm a rockstar at 2 AM in my head. "GIVE ME PEACE, LOVE, AND A HARD..."

Thursday, June 23, 2005

So who's tired of the giddy, knee-slapping Tom Cruise? Yeah...me too. Actually, I've been tired of him for a really long time. I'm just sick of seeing him on all of my late-night talk shows.

It's about time I blogged something of my goings to and doings of nouns. Trevor sends his greetings.

Tomorrow I will have survived three weeks of this four-week Summer term taking physics. This isn't extremely difficult in a brainpower sense. It's going to be an EZ A.The hard part is not making energy work in such a way as to blow up all of the dumb people in the class, which would annihilate the entire class, excluding myself and the professor, thus causing the overall IQ of the campus to make a huge jump in the positive direction. Surely anyone who has lived 18 years and doesn't have a firm grasp on what gravity does could be eliminated from the gene pool without ado. I dare say that they SHOULD be so eliminated.

OH MY GOODNESS!!! I just realised that I haven't written about my high school reunion that was two weeks ago! I know that I don't really have the right to complain about it because I did zero to help out with it, but all I have to says is IT WAS AT A BAR! You know, some people have an ice-breaker, a family event like a picnic, AND the big shin-dig. I think that's pretty standard. Okay...the ice-breaker might be pushing it. Anyway...we were supposed to have a picnic, but that got cancelled about a week before the reunion was to take place. Apparently the cancellation was due to lack of interest. All I have to say is IT WAS GOING TO BE AT A BAR! It wasn't at just any bar. NO! It was at the high-school-hang-out bar. The place we ALL went to illegally in high school (because the drinking age was 18 back then [I don't/didn't drink] and everyone had a friend who worked at a bar) was the site of our 10-11 year class reunion. (It was my class' 11th year.) The ONLY reasons I went are because my friends, Michael and Tara, forced me, and Amy and Jeremy swore that they were coming. Let it be known that I DID NOT WANT TO PAY 30, YES 30, DOLLARS TO SIT MISERABLY IN A BAR WATCHING DRUNK PEOPLE. We were supposed to get dinner and drinks. Well, we got ONE drink that was given to us when we gave the bar the ticket we got at the door. I promptly gave my ticket to Michael since I don't drink. Dinner was fish out on the patio that was there for ONE HOUR, so anyone arriving after 8:00 only got ONE DRINK for their $30. People got blasted shortly after arriving. It was awful. As you can see, there were many beer bottles around, and the current cheerleaders were allowed inside to do favorite cheers, "Tiger Rag" and lead us in our Alma Mater.

The only people I wanted to talk to were Michael and Tara, and I talk to them everyday. Rebecca, resembling Anna Nicole Smith, showed up with her lover who is married and has kids with someone else. UGH! That absolutely disgusts me. A lot of drunk people approached me to breathe and drool on me. It was amusing for a little bit. I swear to God, Michael and Tara Brown, I WILL NOT GO TO 20! WILL. NOT!

The only thing that truly impressed me about all of those people and everything that we had done in the 10-11 previous years, is that one girl from my class, Currie, just graduated from medical school number one in her class. I was so amazed by that...not amazed that SHE did it, because she was a good honors student in high school, but amazed that she worked so hard for the last few years to come out on top. It's impressive. I was surprised to see her at the reunion because she lives in Ohio, so I sought her out to congratulate her. If there was anything good about that night, it was that news.

Jeremy and Amy never showed up to the reunion, and I saw on the list that Amy had paid her 30 bucks. She's dead to me!

It was awful.

Okay...there was a strange and amusing couple there. The guy is um...slow...ish, quiet, unsociable, um...and some other stuff, too. He was in my class ('94). The girl he was with...Tara's little brother started high school the year we graduated, so that makes him class of '98...this girl is younger than Tara's brother. And she acted like she's still 17. She got wasted, and she was running all over the place. It was HILARIOUS watching him chase after her, always searching for her. When he'd find her, he'd say something serious to her, showing his possessiveness, and she'd wrap her arms around him and give him a big, wet kiss on the face. The end of every kiss was like the starting gun of a race because as soon as it ended, SHE. WAS. GONE. We had a big, ole time watching that scene. And it never got old. We cracked up watching those two.

And there is one guy I stared at almost every time I wasn't watching the crazy couple. I have no idea what his name is, but HE. IS. FINE! Mrs. Wilcox, you have to help me out. I'm going to post his picture, and I want you to tell me his name. I can't find him in the yearbook, but I know he was there and that he was class of '95. Oh NO! I can only find two pics of him, and he looks awful in one, and the other is a profile shot. I swear, y'all. He was HOTT! Not the weird-faced goober he is here. (That girl was in the class under mine. She's married to the guy at the bar behind her on her left. He was our student body president our senior year. Those two have been together since the ark.) I almost got busted a jillion times staring at him. Michael caught me staring at him pretty often, and he kept threatening to call him over. Michael got pretty drunk, and he started talking about him loudly and pointing at him. The guy DID see him do that, and I was waiting for him to ask Michael what the big secret was. But he didn't and my face went back to its normal shade of rosey. But I really do want to know his name.

So...okay...that's enough for tonight. I love Blogger with a Mac. I get to put in pictures in different places and wrap text around them. it's so much better! I love Trevor!

Monday, June 20, 2005

MEET TREVOR!

Trevor

He's pretty, white, and meticulously clean. He's extremely organized. He likes vibrant colors. He's sensitive. He does what I tell him. He's Trevor.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

I'm depressed. I had $100 in my hand to have the color stripped out of my hair and recolored in a lighter, brighter red, and Scott talked (scared) me out of it thinking that it wasn't really what I wanted. So he didn't strip it and put in a color, and now I have fewer than $100 and a color I didn't want. I really DID want the lighter color. I still DO want the lighter color. But now I don't have the money for the procedure. I'm sad.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Guess what this means:

9/02 Houston, TX
9/03 Austin, TX


Okay...I'll give you a big hint:

toriamostour

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I miss the mountains. I was leaving class this morning, and I looked up past the trees and saw a large, dark mound of a cloud over them. My mind accepted this as a mountain. I walked for about 10 more seconds before the reality came to my mind, "There are no mountains here!" I looked back up, and it was indeed a big, ugly cloud.

Also, I hear it's snowing in the mountains of Utah today. I'm severely jealous. My geisha over there mocks me when she shows me how effing hot it is here (Today appears to be an exception. We've had a bit of a "cool" front come through.), but I won't gripe too much because I'm on vacation this week, which includes a private pool. And if it were snowing in the non-mountains here, that little amenity would be wasted.

Yesterday, my car past 150,000 miles.

HAHAHAHAHA! It's both awful and hilarious. No...really...I love children...seriously...

Monday, June 06, 2005

A couple weeks ago, I was looking online at Macs, specifically at iBooks, when my dad walked into the room and asked, "What's that?" I said, "It's the Apple iBook that I want." He asked me why I want a Mac, and so I proceeded to list the hun'erds of reasons why I want one, namely, an outstanding protection and care plan, they sport superior hardware, there are few viruses for Macs (Yes, I know that there are more created everyday, but that is why there is the unbeatable protection and care plan.), I can buy software that is compatible with PCs in case I ever have to send files to other people (software that I'm already familiar with), and friends who have had their ONE Mac for SEVEN years or more say that it still runs like it did the first day they bought it.

So last night, about two weeks after the initial conversation and without bringing up the computer, my dad approached me and asked me how much I needed to buy my iBook. I told him and then said that the Apple guy who had called me when he noticed that I was looking at the iBook (SPIES! Seriously, how did he know that I was looking at the iBook, and how did he know to call my number?! Big brother, y'all, at the Apple place!) was going to give me a $100 discount on top of my educational discount. My dad said, "Okay." Notice that I never said, "Daddy, I love you. You are the best daddy in the whole, wide world, and I want this," (He IS the best daddy in the whole, wide world, just so you know.)in that whiny, will-you-buy-this-for-me tone. I wasn't even planning on him walking into my online window-shopping session. (Hoping? Of course!) So, maybe I'll be getting it soon afterall. I don't know, though. They're so expensive. I AM already thinking about baby names for it.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

I am currently on vacation. And by vacation, I mean that I am house-sitting for some friends who have a very large house with a very large, flat-screened television and a swimming pool. I don't have the stress of possibly pissing my g-ma off because I come home too late. I don't have to make my bed. I don't have to do anything for anybody except myself. I don't have to talk to people unless I want to. I don't have to answer the phone. I can sleep without being bothered. I don't have to eat what people fix for me. I can eat all of the peanut butter Cap'n Crunch I can stand. Breakfast: PB Cap'n Crunch, Lunch: PB Cap'n Crunch, Snack: PB Cap'n Crunch, Dinner: PB Cap'n Crunch. At night it is dark, no one is here, and there is a pool in the backyard. Do you know what this means? Do you? Imaginez un peu! Oh, yes...I do!

I've spent so much time in the pool that my hair is shot to hell. I have no idea what I will have to do to get it back into good shape. It feels so rough and unruly. That is an issue I will address when I go see Scott this week. He's going to bleach out my hair and color it a lighter, brighter red. I am so excited that I can hardly stand it.

Another drawback, which will later be a bonus, to spending so much time in the pool is the extra-warm, pink skin I have right now. I am so white that I cannot bring myself to wearing anything but long pants, and we're in the middle of a Louisiana summer, people!

There is one more thing that is not so great about being in the pool for extended periods of time. I smell like the pool. It doesn't matter how much or how long I shower or what I use to bathe myself; I still smell like the pool water.

I will be on vacation until Saturday.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

I got a new t-shirt in the mail today. I love it.



One of these days I'm actually going to write something on here. I'm just not inspired sitting at someone else's computer. How I miss my own computer! I also started classes again today, so I will have something soon. Something about a mad scientist and the dumbest girl in Louisiana probably.