Don't you wish you were British?

Mood: Maddened
Listening to: Idle chatter

Posted April 23, 2005

I feel like having a good bitch right now. And aren't I allowed? Under rights I'm allowed to complain just as much as I friggin' feel like it? Yes. Thanx for answering my question. I am allowed to bitch all I want, to whoever I want, whenever I feel the slightest yearning! Lol--nope. I wish. I would be on here 24/7, talking to potential friends. Sounds cheerful, except that I wouldn't see ne of them. But at least there wouldn't be ne record (like on paper) of my thots and cussings and utterly creative writings. (This is a very arcane way of talking about how I lost a note where I said "pussy licker, shit eater, piss sucker, muther fucker!" Creative, yes?)

Yeah. This week has been one of those whiplash weeks. It started out bumpy--me losing that silly note, and getting slogged down with unwanted school work--then things just seemed to cost along, till they turned their backs to me and I got my neck twisted round. SO--after Mom is back, the night b4, I write a very respectful letter on my future summer plans, for being productive. I'd work at Pets Plus (picking up trash, GAG, cleaning the baseboards and dusting the shelves, then gardening work that I don't mind so much now except for the part about how last time I gardened there I got ringworm. How do u like that sentence?), volunteer at the library, and find a really kick-arse horse stable to work off lessons for. This would be wrapped mowing, and it would leave me happily busy and working (excuse the pun). The night Mom arrived back home I apparently shoved it under her nose, and she was being a bitch and didn't want to read it. So I pouted and went to bed, doing my best to treat her with injured and lofty pride. Gag. I'm not like that. Usually. Get on my bad side and I do my best to shove my foot up ur arse, to "threaten" you. Neways, she read it the next day and I got approval from Nick's side. Lovely! I coasted through the day. I get to volunteer at a stables! YES! I've been dying for that ever since I was in 6th grade! So I asked a chick in Ag. for the name and # for her stable, and she referred to sumbody else. That turned Mom off. That and apparently the crappy attitude I don't think I have. When I mowed on Thursday, I got completely railed by Nick for not playing softball and how I'm too judgmental on myself and a bunch of fluff. I don't know whether to believe it or not. For the most part, I think I've got to draw a line on when to listen to Mom when she's yelling at me. How am I supposed to know??! I take it to heart a lot, about the "life lessons" she gives me. Well, pooponbread, apparently I'm not supposed to! What kind of bunk stuff is this?

And FFA has been interesting. Forgetting momentarily that I'm now screwed on volunteering newhere next to Pets Plus, our last FFA meetings have been good. Since this week was all on testing (and I only tested one day), I went down to Ag. a lot. It was fun. I, um, well, sat in a few ppl's laps and acted like a whore at times. I feel guilty about it now, but there's a bit of me that's really pleased for sum bizarre reason! Tho this week hasn't been a boquet of roses, to use a cliche. It's been hard. I don't like Jeff nemore, thank dog. He's into Shelby, and a whole bunch of other stuff I don't care about. I sat in Nick's (Nick guy, not Nick dad) lap this week and now there's a suspicion that I like him. I do--ever so slightly. I talked to Brian about Nick while Nick kept pulling that stupid fire alarm on the bus, and I commented (b4 I liked him, of course), "He's never going to get a girlfriend if he acts forever like that." And Brian looked at Nick and said, "Well, can u imagine a chick liking that?" Words I don't know if I don't like. Pooponbread. I respect Brian. Value his words. Indecision on whether to value this one, tho.

Cheers! (I don't feel like typing nemore.) Smashley

Mood: Content
Listening to: Straylight Run

Posted on April 16, 2005

Things have been good lately. Thankfully. I step carefully in areas that have the trouble potential, like buying the Flogging Molly terry wristband and all the Napoleon Dynamite buttons; plus that damn Taoism book. (I forgot to take it back to the library again, dammit it all!) So it's all underwraps from Mother dearest, the fear of my life. A lot has just been hidden from her lately. The guilt meter is reading high, but if I tried to tell her nething, it would blow up in my face and BOOM, I would be more watched on than b4.

I guess that this deserves a lil explanation, to as why I feel such need to hide stuff from Muzzer. It's Jeff. I'm gonna blame it all on Jeff and my experiences with the Ag. kids (I love those guys! ) See, ever since I sat in Jeff's lap that one day so long ago, I've found myself very taken with him, to put it in lofty terms. In fact, I think about him a lot. Which is stupid! I don't have a chance, not one, of even potentially getting newhere with Jeff. Like all guys, he's out-of-bounds. So I just shelved it all, as I'm having to do with everything I love, for sumpin else. I threw myself into other things; things not the least bit related to Jeff. Nope, nuh, never. The only problem with secret passions like mine is that they manifest themselves in sneaky lil ways. I listen to country now  a lot more, and when I do, I day-dreamabout Jeff. When I'm going to sleep, I focus on Jeff. Ho hum, isn't that smart? GOD! It's so bizarre, so crazy; I promised myself I wouldn't tell him, I would totally forget about this, and now I have his cell phone # and ppl know. I hate myself. I feel stupid saying that, pooponbread. Lucky duck for me, I'm easily distracted. There was Hannah and her victimizing troubles, and Lydia and everything. The morning of the field trip made things harder, tho. I saw Jeff walking up the halls and I gave him a hug (I'm such a prat; I can't resist it) and we talked for about half a sec. Nothing to talk about, except for what bus we'd be riding. I was saved social embarrassment, tho, when my friends came up and he loped away. Easy peasy. (More on the field trip later, btw.) So the next morning, this last Friday, he came up to where I sat in the morning. We actually managed to complete half a conversation! (Applause inserted here, u monkeys.)  We chatted about mowing. It's not sad. It's just a redneck thing. I told him about my job and what an ever-loving bitch it is (tho I didn't complain; he managed to give me a "That has to suck," which was all I was looking for), and he told me about how he has quite  a few riding mowers, how most of them don't work, about how his grass is a 10-ft. circle with tracks going through it from his doing donuts in his golf cart, and how he got bored one day and removed all the decals off the good mower and slapped on Ford, Chevy, and Dodge stickers (explaining how his Dad is a mechanic and has just about every sticker for all the cars ever made [exaggeration on my part, lol]). And that was it. It sounds like a lot in writing, but it was only about 5-10 minutes at the most. He excused himself to go dip and June walked up so I walked with her to locker. I saw Jeff again in 2nd period and THEN--we worked out in the greenhouse with Craig on the aloe vera plants; pruning and repotting. Where are the burn victims? There's enough aloe vera to save the victims of 9/11, I'd say. We guesstimated around 5k, then 1k, then about 500 aloe vera plants in the greenhouse. It was fun. Then we started messing with the oils coming out of the aloe vera branches--it was so icky! Bleh. Nick came in at this point, and we all started playing with the leaves, shoots, branches, whatevs. They brought sex into the issue, and the joke, "There's enough lube on these plants to fit a Cadillac in a doghouse!" blossomed. (Nick is the creator of that phrase.) Craig asked, "What size is the doghouse, is the question." Jeff's answer was, "Poodle sized." It was so pervy, yet so funny. U haf to know aloe vera, tho. That stuff is naff. Class ended around then, and I didn't see Jeff again till fourth period, lunch. Mr. Stephens and his class were giving White Lightning (the rabbit) a walk, so it was mostly Jeff, Brad, and I. Not much happened then--except that Brad kept slapping my butt with his hat--and we played with Brad's plants out in the greenhouse. Fifth period was spent out in the greenhouse as well, but it was mostly me and Craig, snacking on Reese's Pieces. Not too bad. 7th period ended up being an "orgy" (NO! It wasn't a real orgy, just Craig's expression.), with all us FFA kids together. At this point, Shelby had joined us and Jeff looked like he was fancying her. () But I got to sit in Jeff's lap again, till Mr. Stephens pried us out from his room and into the greenhouse, where we potted plants and threw lil buds at each other. Shelby sat in Jeff's lap after we got back in, and we watched Brad as he whined over his nuts (Shelby had hit him in the wangus with a brush and that ended our greenhouse fun, lol.), and Brad commented, "It was the one she seen." He pointed over to Lindsay and me. Emily, who had just been standing about, looked at us and asked, "Which one?" I started grinning and Brad returned it, and Emily said, "Ashley, definitely Ashley." Funniness. Let me explain. This one kid had a digital camera and Brad took it and snapped a picture of his left nut. Then the kid started taping me on the camera, so I took and deleted it, and then the guys thot I'd seen Brad's nut. Didn't really happen. But I'm enjoying the joke.

Later on, I decided to tell Jeff how I feel. I had told Emily during 7th period when we skivved off to buy Cokes, so I chose her as the one to call to ask for Jeff's cell phone #. She didn't know, so I asked for Brad's. 10 minutes later, I had it, but I waited another 15 b4 calling. About this time it was 9:45, and I called Brad for Jeff's #. I made small talk at first, and listened as Brad cried out and there was background noise. "What happened?" I asked quizzically. "This kid just jumped off the balcony of his apartment!" was Brad's answer, and then he called out to the kid, "Grunt once if you're not okay and twice if you are!" A moment's pause, and then Brad said in a sastified voice, "He grunted twice. He's fine. Don't worry about help, guys." I laughed and then managed to get Jeff's #, and I told Bradley I loved him (I think my mom heard this, and made more assumptions, but oh well). Brad is great. That night, I ended up calling Jeff three times and leaving a voice mail once. It was dull. Later on, I stayed up till midnight with Mom watching a TV show while playing SpongeBob's Bubble Pop. Mom kicked my ass at the Bubble Pop, and then as we were heading out to print out her boarding pass for her plane ride, she decided it could wait for 8 eight hours and my staying up was for naught. Felt really stupid. So nothing has happened since then, except for my plan to call Jeff tonight. Wish me luck. I know this was a buttload of an entry, but oh well.

Cheers!

Mood: Insane
Listening to: Staind, 14 Shades of Grey

Posted Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Lately I think I've been bizarrely lost. One of the two. Bizarre: prolly. Lost: most definitely. Ever since spring break ended and things were so cool, so calm and lovely in Ohio, coming back to Kentucky and school is like being thrown on a roller coaster. I'm not fond of the monsters. They give u whiplash. Not fun. Or perhaps things have been so strange b/c I've been lost in my writing project, half convincing myself I am the character I write, and always dreaming up new things to chuck at her. It's not very nice, so it seems, but it makes for a bangin' story, lol.

Okay. Potential miming--what could that mean to u? Absolutely nuffink--but I've been considering it. Can u imagine being a mime? I got the idea from one of my friends who's in silence to promote GSA (Gay-Straight Alliance) day. "Remember the voices that are now silent." It's an interesting concept--imagine being silent all the time to promote what u believe in! I don't know if I could do it. And then I thot of mimes, the artists who are always trying to express themselves in silence. Try being a mime around my school, or even Louisville. Nobody would last a minute, let alone a lifetime. Kids are convinced that when they see a mime, it's a bad thing, the mime ought to be kicked in the balls, doused in gasoline, and set on fire. Or not most kids, but the ones I know. Those Neo-Nazi sorts who go around promoting Hitler's beliefs and pretending to be skinheads. I convince myself they're pretending--but I know that they're crazy enough to try sumpin like setting a chick on fire for being a mime. So maybe it could a part-time job. I haf no idea where I'd do it, if I did. As I said, Louisville is out of the question. Sum crazy redneck would squish me with his muddy Tahoe. Ohio would be nice, but the farmers would stare at me and the Old Order would make crosses with their fingers and call me a heathen, perhaps. Lol, I was in Ohio and I asked Grammy, "How come u don't have street preachers?" I mean--c'mon! Louisville is crawling with street preachers. But there aren't ne in Greenville. No bums, nuffink. And ppl, nice ppl, jog and walk up and down the sidewalk nearly every evening. Imagine that. A mime just may last there. It's an idea. But I think I'd laff too much. I can't resist giggling at the good stuff. It'd be cool to videotape it and see all the ppl's reactions. That'd make me laff for hours, tho I'm not sure why.

The first half of the title--maiming. Maiming? Who would I maim? Plenty of ppl. A measly threat like that has scared ppl, after the Columbine shootings and now the Red Place (Lake? The one with the Neo-Nazi kidlet) shoot-out, all threats are being taken seriously. But I wouldn't maim nebody, perhaps. Violence is my middle name. Just "Ask me about my anger problem!" is a bumper sticker fit to go on my car. (I saw that on internetbumperstickers.com, btw.) Today sucked balls, tho. I was good till Bio when I found out from Monica that Lydia has been talking about me again to Ally and Katie. My first reaction--OHMIFRIGGINGOD! I miss being her friend so much, there is so much pain, and for her to go talking about me is UNCALLED FOR! (I'm screaming that at my compooper at this moment.)  She was talking about how I like this one kid named Jayson--WHERE DID SHE HEAR THAT? I  did not tell her. The only person I  told was Hannah, and I doubt she repeated it. I haf 4 out of 7 classes with her. And I would've heard about it earlier. So what gives? I think either Rachel heard me discussing it with Hannah, or Lydia eavesdropped, or Sean told them. Which is, once again, UNCALLED FOR! See? So many possibilities to be overhead, yet I doubt all of them. Maybe I should doubt Monica. I don't trust ne1 nowadays. No best friends I can trust. That leaves anger as my best friend. No, I seriously hope that isn't true. So my second initial response, after righteous anger, was despair. I MISS Lydia, dammit! All these rapid-fire thots rushed through my head one after the other. I crumpled. Putting my head down and quietly despaired. It was so awful. I won't say what happened next, b/c I'm properly ashamed of it.

At lunch today, I quietly told Taylor about the whole incident. That was in Algebra, so this is lunch, and I spout off, "EVERYTHING I SAY IS RECORDED AND REPEATED!" I don't remember where I got that, it just felt good to shout, lol. It was Hannah in front of me who was listening, Taylor to my right with her back turned to Aaron, an annoying stalker who follows Taylor when she doesn't like it. Before the moment I'd said that, Aaron had been making comments that we'd been ignoring, but now it was quiet after my shout-out and then Aaron repeated (like an ever-annoying parrot; the type that get killed early in their talking days) "Everything u say is recorded and repeated?" And I knew, if I stayed there a moment longer, I was going to kick his needing-it arse. It was too much and I am too much of a bully to take sumpin like. So instead of beating him up like he righteously deserved, I got up and marched out. Agri-Science ho! Where I could get a lil peace and sum Pop Tart Therapy. As soon as I'd left the caf, Taylor followed me. We spent lunch having a jolly time out in the Greenhouse with Brad and Emily, and I'm convincing Taylor to come to the next FFA meeting. Poor Hannah. We left her behind. I feel badly. Oh well. She had no hard feelings.

Tomorrow should be fun. We get to go to the Science Center for DNA Day and then St. Matthew's Mall for shopping and lunch. It's gonna be fun, as it always is with Taylor and Jones Soda. And instead of brooding over the stupid whore (ahem, Lydia), I'm gonna stick to Trishie, Taylor, and June. Huffah! Stupid whore. U steal my friends, and I shove it in yo face, nicker-nicker! Lol, gangster isn't my style.

Cheers, StarrGurl

Mood: Content
Listening to: C-SPAN on CNN--way dull

Yay, I made it through day 1 or 2. I can't keep count, unless you count the one where we arrived. I'm working on a new writing project, and that's exciting news if u know me. My Muse seemed to have left me dry and waiting. So I didn't start nething new for at least a month; I nearly shriveled in withdrawal. But all the patience paid off! Yes--I finished reading another bit of Steven Frank's The Pen Commandments (a bible for writing if there ever was one), and I was inspired with confidence. After posting yesterday, I decided the Net on Katie's compooper was a bit slow, so I started working on a new story that's been rolling around my head. It started out with Lia just amiably walking home, nothing interesting...then I got into describing her house. It is a right scary old house.  But that led to my original idea that I had had in Kentucky, one meditative evening. And boom--exciting story! I love that. I'm going to work off-compooper (how DARE I even attempt it!) and try and get this one rolling. My mantra--once I find a project tempting enough to pique my curiosity, keep rolling with it. But the main point is that I have to stick  with it, a challenge for me. Give me confidence, or worshipful Muse. Lol. Thou shall not mock the Muse. It brings these ideas. Keep it well fed and all that. Honor thy Muse. I think I'm crazy. All this agnostic influence has led to crazy ideas.

That's all for now. I'm at the library, sating the appetite for excellent books. I love their fantasy collection--it's way more impressive than from the libraries in LFPL. Later.

Mood: Bored and lonely
Listening to: The Outsider, by A Perfect Circle

Posted April 3, 2005--first entry for April!

Everything is too slow in Ohio. This is the one place in the whole friggin' United States where time has completely stopped. The weather, age; no. But everything else has. Cooking methods (I had my soup that I was getting ready to microwave snatched out of my hands with Grammy snapping, "Don't you dare microwave that soup! You're using the stove! I'm eating half of it," I raised my eyebrows to that b/c there had been no hint of sharing of my soup till now, "and I do not want clumps in it! And besides, the microwave uses too much radiation! What a waste!" So, being the type of person who knows when to not pick a fight with a senior citizen (knowing that when we get home and I get snitched on to ppl of power, privileges will be provoked), I stood back and let her scrape the bowl of soup into an old scratched pot uncommented. Grammy, being so damn particular about everything, spent a full seven minutes doing that and adding water, and I got bored, so I fixed myself a cup of 7-Up, receiving glares for my near fatal mistake of microwaving soup. I ignored it till she took my clean bowl that had contained the soup and put it in the sink to be washed.

"What're you doing, Grammy?!" I cried. "That's an unnecessary dish! That bowl is clean!"

"Yeah, but it's got soup all over it," she answered with her back to me, intent on making sure I couldn't use the dish again by stacking with the rest.

"Isn't that what's supposed to be in there? Being as I plan on eating soup out of that dish in 10 minutes?" I can see myself, and the incredulous body language of hands spread out, eyes narrowed, in full drama form. If I'm going to wash the dishes, this insane lady is not going to pile them on there needlessly.

Grammy whipped around and face d me with her eyes wide and utterly crazy-looking. "Do you want to make a big deal out of this?" The tone was wicked, to put it in her words. I backed off, the first instinct. I shook my head weaklyand wished I was one of those rebellious children who can come up with a witty response on  the spot. No, I'm just StarrGurl, this girl who keeps most of the best stuff inside. And on the blog. The Parentals don't realize what a gold mine this blogging thing is, mostly b/c I won't let them. Let's bait them in by using their compooper, yes? So they can read just what I think about them. And all the cussing I do in real life and what a whore I can be sumtimes. No effing way. That's why I never blog, b/c I haf to do it publicly or I'm caught.

So, yes. I am on spring break, in rural Darke County, Ohio, bordering Richmond, Indiana. I can walk to Indiana. The only problem is, we're an hour from newhere. Think I'm kidding? It takes a good four hours to get to Louisville, the homie city, an hour to Dayton and at least three hours to Indy. We are smack in the middle of nowhere.  Did I mention Darke County is the biggest agricultural county out of the 88 counties in Ohio? Normally, I'd be like, "Hey, that's awesum," being as I'm FFA and until recently I was into horses. Now I look at it as a major disadvantage. The nearest Meijers is prolly 60 miles away, not including the one in Richmond. All the lil towns dotted here and there are scattered, and don't contain much that I'm into now. I dunno. I guess I'm just this frickin' ungrateful wastecase. But I don't want to be. It's just ppl driving me insane here. I can't stand it. I need school to keep the laffter balanced. Here the only laffing I do is with Lindsay, the lil sister, and that's not cool.

The Friday b4 spring break was great. I went to 1st period, mostly b/c I knew there wasn't ne way I was going to get out of it. Second period I breezed a test in Health on cigarrettes and went into the greenhouse to help Craig and Jeff repot plants. 3rd I had to go to, bleh, I hate Biology. She assigned a huge-arse project for us to enjoy over break, the stupid whore. I'm pretending to do research, but this compooper is too slow for nething. SO, 4th period, I found out I got a 35 (F or U) on the Algebra test, let's celebrate. Luckily it was lunch and at first I went into the caf to eat with Taylor, Hannah, and Trishie, to enjoy my last day with them for a while. But when Jayson asked for a bit of my Pop Tarts and I got up to give it to him, Taylor grinned wickedly at me as she sat in my seat. Okay, no prob with that. I turned heel and left the caf to head out to Ag. Taylor is still on probation of touching me after she tried to put the tin foil down my shirt (icky!), but she rushed out after me and wasted five minutes trying to pull me back in. I shoved her off and left for Ag. It left me pretty pissed she would try and pull me back in; it was a free country and I could march out if I wanted! So I headed down to Stephens' and poked my head in, to find Jeff, Brad, and Sid sitting down in the chairs. They were all dipping and informed me that Mr. Locke had kicked them out of the Greenhouse, so they had parked it next to Mr. Stephens and watched Napoleon Dynamite. Being as there were no seats close to them, I sat in Jeff's lap. It was nice, tho I feel like such a slut for saying it. He bounced his leg up and down and placed his hand close to the inside of my leg, still bouncing some. I put my arm around his back and scratched abit, and he bounced sum more. I'm such a whore sumtimes. I keep flipping back to that memory, and hoping I can sit in Jeff's lap again.  That was basically the highlight of my day, next to coming back to Ag. another 3 periods and plugging plants, laffing with Lindsay, and playing with the newly donated rabbits, gerbils, hamsters, and mice. Get this--the rabbit is named White Lightning. Call me a liar. Brad was with me in 5th and asked "Why is the rabbit named after moonshine?" Lol. Freakish old lady, the one who had owned them. Craig kept making unhelpful comments when we were unloading them from the car like, "Oh, I'm sure my snake will love these mice." Stupid guy! The lady was nice and pretended not to notice. In 7th, after plugging those plants, I helped Craig out in the greenhouse, keeping him company, feeding and watering the quail, pulling bulbs off the plants--it was fun, surprisingly. Makes me feel better in Ohio, thinking about it. A lil more optimistic. That's all for now--quite a load. Cheers.