Return From Slumber

Sunday, November 10th, 2002

time: 8:03 pm
listening to: Epitaph, Badly Drawn Boy
wearing: gray and black
drinking: nothing
mood: eh-eh

I have returned from my dormant blogging stage! *cheers can be heard from non-existant audiance*

But oh, what a terrible season it has been. Need I explain? I think that I should.

What came first, oh, what came first...ah, right-o. September 19th: Katie and Annie and I wrote a crude [but funny!] love letter to Peter, that involved candy and illicit vocabulary. Example [one of my favorites]: We had a pink tootsie-roll shaped piece of candy and next to it, it said: "for the size of your raging love member". Then there was a tasteful comment about arsenic, etc, etc. So we go to put it on his doorstep, and we we're running back I drop one of Katie's good pens. While she and Annie are looking for it, Peter's mum and dad pull in the drive way.

By that point, we knew that we were pretty much screwed, but we didn't know to what extent we were screwed. But the next day, Peter's mum comes by Annie's house and gives her dad the letter we wrote [minus the candy - I think they ate that]. He asks to have a chat with Annie while I am there. I rush to Katie's house as soon as I can sneak away without her dad noticing, but even then we didn't know how majorly we had fucked up.

The next morning at around 8:00 a.m. [a Saturday], my dad raps on my door and tells me that Mr. Nieman [Annie's dad] is coming around to have a "chat" with us. Bloody. Fucking. Hell. And the prat even managed to prevent me from sleeping in.

As it turns out, he had already been to Katie's house, and she and Annie blamed it mostly all on me. WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?!?! Annie's parents think I'm this horrible influence, blah blah blah and some crap I've heard since the fourth grade. The long and short of it all: Katie and I aren't allowed to see Annie until January. JANUARY! BLOODY FUCKING JANUARY!!!!!!! I swear, I am suffocating from all of this anger towards her parents. I can't even describe it.

Mmm. That was the first even that constitutes this fall as, to put it blandly, "bad". Periodically, through all of this, I had been getting sick [congunctivitus, bronchitus, etc] and then, about a week before Halloween, I start to have this ringing in my ears, along with headaches and nausea. Hell, was I freaking out. I was absolutely convinced that I had a brain tumor. So my dad takes me in to have a CT scan [or an MRI...I forget, but I'm pretty sure it was the former]. They lay you down on this...table thing...and then you are inserted into a whirling tube. It took about twenty minutes. I was completely terrified. It just that when you are there, and there are all these humming machines, you mind starts to wander...you realize that the possibily that you have cancer is incredibly high, and that in itself is disturbing.

Good news: I don't have a tumor. Bad news: I worry so much about stupid things that I think I am insane.

More badness. Oh, hell, I'll just give you a list.
× Elijah Wood is gay.
× One of my friends I thought I was on good terms with doesn't like me.
× I have been having nightmares for the past two weeks. Every night.
× I never see Ellie and Katie and Sadie anymore, and I don't think they really like me either.
× I am a horrible writer.
× My grades are at an all-time low.
× I am a very ugly person.
× Annie is making new friends and probably won't be my best friend when I am allowed to see her again.

Wonderful, isn't it? Some of those problems are self-created/inflicted, but the points stand as thus. Gods, I hate feeling helpless....

the world above

Remembrance

Wednesday, September 11th, 2002

time: 6:12
music: none
wearing: black
drinking: diet coke
mood: contemplative

The anniversary of September 11th. It wouldn't be honest of me to say that I am upset - I'm not. I'm phased, a bit, thinking back and remembering what a huge deal that was, and how many people died - but not sad in the least. Everything has a time and a place to die. Forests need to burn to stay alive, just as our world needs destruction and death to make change possible. It's called balance. The bombing was America's wake up call; if it hadn't occured, we would still be shrouded by false pride and persepective.

We had a commemoration in school today, and I chose not to go because I didn't care. I didn't want to pretend to mourn the deaths of our fellow Americans just so I would get out of class, and I didn't want to be in a room where the majority of people were attending the commemoration simply for that reason.

It's interesting to think, though, that this will be what our generation tells our children. Our parents witnessed the assasination of Kennedy. Our grandparents: Pearl Harbor. Our generation was alive during the [in my opinion] most severe tragedy. History repeats itself.

Moving on, I had the most interesting dream last night. My old dog Bingo [who died of cancer when I was twelve] had come back to life, and he appeared in our basement. I felt so guilty because he really wanted to be with our family again, but I had moved on and gotten over his death and didn't want him with us. He also would have only lived for a week longer, and it didn't seem emotionally worth while to get all happy at having him back just so he could go away again. Though I felt so horrible, because he wanted back for that week and I loved him. Oddness. Then it cut to where we were riding under a bridge and Bingo was talking to me [yes, the dog]. He said something about his short life "being like a thousand hearts beating over a pristine shirt", and I got the idea that he meant that the blood of the beating hearts would botch the coloring of the new item. Whatever that has to do with anything. Then we left him on the roadside for him to die again.

The dream really unsettled me, because the guilt was so real in it. I know it was my dog that I was dealing with in the dream but there is a possiblity that I am feeling guilty about something in real life - which I can't place right now. I think I'm just grasping at strands here. Whatever.

the world above

---

Absolute Stupidity

5th of Semptember, 2002

time: 3:38 pm
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: dark gray and black
mood: languid/brassed off

I am completely aware that we have covered the topic of my stupidity more than once in this blog, but I feel I must bring it up again. I am an idiot. Alright, recap:

Seventh Hour World Geography. We had a quiz to judge our level of knowledge towards...well, geography. One of the questions was "Define Gondawanaland". Now, doesn't that sound made up to you? Actually, when pangea split in half millions of years ago, Gondawanaland was one of the names of the halves. Do you want to know what I put down for an answer? DO YOU?

      Define "Gondawanaland"
      A non-existant place in which Umpa Lumpas frolic. See also: paradise.

Bloody hell. Umpa Lumpa's? Ughhhhhhh. I am the stupidest person I know. And even that sentence is filled with lunicies!

More Daftness - I had carried on for week about how Biography should be a class. My arguement: "They have biology and geography, why not biography?" Oh. My. Gods! It took Annie - ANNIE - to tell me that a biography was something wriiten about a person. I KNEW THAT! HONESTLY, I DID! I AM AN IDIOT! I SUCCUMB TO SENSELESSNESS! Hell.

Mmm. I never had a doubt in my mind as to what Harry Potter character I was.

You are a kick-ass Slytherin
You hate Harry Potter and you're
Snape's favorite student.. No problem
with potion I see...

Which Harry Potter Character Are You?
by Toffie @ CookieWhore.Net

the world above

---

The Terror that is School

4th September, 2002

time: 7:04 om
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: blah clothes
mood: despairing [oh woe is me]

So. Highschool has begun [yesterday, in fact]. The incessant, miserable four year span in which I am supposed to enjoy myself superbly. GAH. No. I won't enjoy myself. It's horrid, absolutely horrid! *gasp* *deep breath* Alright then. Three days out of seven I have lunch with people I like. People that know me. The other four days [out of an odd seven day rotation schedual] I have lunch with relatively no one that I know [and would elect to sit down with]. I mean, I have aquantances in that lunch hour, but nobody I feel bold enough to start a conversation with. It's sad. I'm pathetic, I really am. And I don't want to make friends. Nope. No new persona's for Roberta. Nuh-uh. Highschool is strictly for learning. NO SOCIALIZING! [Unless with best mates. Then socializing is permitted.]

Seventh hour is on my not-too-horrible side, courtesy of the attractive upperclassman that have decided to join the ninth grade level world geography course [which speaks low of their intelligence but then again they are only eye candy. That happen to look like Draco. And some character vaguely developed in my mind.]

I wonder if Annie and I will remain friends through freshman year. I hope so. And I severely doubt I will remain friends with many people that I once was. And I hold it in my best judgement to state that I am a terrible friend. Basically, it's just one of those appaling feelings you get when you think about the capacity to change and drift away from people. *shrugs*

Elijah Wood and I are faring brilliantly, as always. We are lifebonded, after all.

the world above

---

Fencing and Angel Wings

27th August, 2002

time: 5:07 pm
music: crawling in the dark, Hoobastank
drinking: diet coke
wearing: black gym clothes
mood: Normal. I can't really tell. I'm vacant most of the time, so I suppose that is my normalcy.

New layout. Fun. Angelic. Woo.

My cat is pissed me off. He won't shut up with his mewing. Mum says he is just trying to talk to me. I wish he was a mute. Maybe I can make him one. Where's that bat again? [kidding. I love my insane ginger cat.]

Tonight we are going to have our first fencing lesson [we as in me and annie and katie and whoever else is taking the lesson, I s'pose.] Fencing good. Foils good. Anything long and weapon-like good. [Not counting what is long and can be used for a weapon in certain explainable ways which I choose to not explain so never mind.]

I am going to be an angel of destruction [like Loki from Dogma although female and with a less-horrid name] for halloween, so I need arch-angel like wings. The ones you can order online are around $400, so I am making my own which will be fun and take up time in my exceedingly boring life. I'm buying the wires for the frames tonight, I believe.

I'm also learning to write in Tengwar Cursive [you know, elvish writing] and right now I can do a-h. Tyah ha!

Found a cool poem I wrote in a notebook last night from eigth grade and figured I'd post it for lack of anything else to do.

Darkness clouded through me,
creeped into my mind.
Clouded over charcoal eyes;
the darkness made me blind.

It's short and morbid. Like me! Not really. I'm not short.

the world above

---

Henry lV

25th August, 2002

time: 8:48 pm
music: Fine Again, Seether
drinking: diet coke
wearing: boxers and a black winter jacket
mood: tired

Today my parents and I saw Henry lV. I didn't understand it. The gist I got was that there was this man, Hotspur [short for Henry Percy] who was angry at King Henry lV for making him give his up prisoners [and other things, I'm sure, but I did catch them]. He goes to seek council and help from his cousin Mortimer and his uncle and father, etc. They wage war on the King. Then there is this side plot [or maybe it is a parallel plot] involving King Henry's son, the Prince of Wales, Hal, who was involved with some thiefs and apparently that didn't go over too well with his father.

Shakespear really is something you have to read before you see the play or else you won't catch any of it And in my opinion, there were far too many Henry's for my small mind.

I have a headache. And a slight fever. I wish it was more than slight, like really high, so I could sweat off weight, get really pale, and have some cool hallucinations. Like a vampire, minus the hallucinations and the sweating. Well, they are thin and pale at least. Tyah, I like that. *ponders* Mabye my fever is more than slight. [as I so amiably explained to katie mccarthy]

the world above

---

Break-ins and Soap Balls

21 of August, 2002

time: 11:28 pm
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: a faerie shirt
mood: absent

Ellie's late birthday party was today. Her actual birthday was somewhere around the end of June. *shrugs* Who knows. Anyways, we went bowling. V exciting, if you ask me. Sort of. Anyways, I won once and both times I had scores over 100 [yay!].

Bathroom: Katie McCarthy and I were in it, Annie and Sammy were outside. We were armed with wet paper towels filled with soap. They had ice. Oh, the massacre.

Roberta is confused. She posted seven entries on fanfiction.net, and none of them have gotten any reviews. It's been two weeks. Now I know these aren't crappy works of writing; I like to think that I have the common sense to post something that isn't crap. And the annoying thing is, is that there are all of these pieces on there that are horrid, and they get like, ten reviews each telling them that their story is the greatest work since Shakespear. It puzzles me. What am I doing wrong?
Anyways, here are the links to the writings I submitted: Dangerous Liaisons Broken Reveries Champaigne and Arsenic

It really is sad when you break into your best friend's house, erase their caller ID, and steal the Elijah Wood movie that they rented. I won't go on.

I just like that picture of me. Hee.

the world above

---

An Unexpected Fortune

15th of August, 2002 [thursday]

time: 3:02 pm
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: shorts and some odd shirt.
mood: expectant

Tyah haha! I am fifteen as of August Thirteenth, nine-forty two am. No, please, don't all applaude at once. I know. Still incredibly young. *shrugs* it's all in how you look at it.

More good news. I PAST MY TEST! I now have a driving permit. That means that mum or dad have to take me around the neighborhood and watch me hit mailboxes. The thing that still puzzles me is how I actually passed the test. It feels wrong that I should have it - I missed five questions [which is the most you can miss without failing]. *ponders*

But that's not all - since our big ugly van with these fake wooden sides broke down, we are getting a dark gray toyota camry. Not too shabby, eh? But we won't have that car for a while, so tonight I am going to drive the van. Which has horrible brakes. My parents really are bright creatures.

eeeek. The font on my internet has mysteriously gotten larger. I can't seem to get it back to normal. So, by chance, if something on this page looks a bit off [cougheverythingcough], blame it on my server, not me. Please.

*evil laughter*

the world above

---

Idiocy

9th of August, 2002 [friday]

time: 9:47 pm
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: comfy jeans
mood: depressed/angry

There was an unexpected/forgotten about [by me] trip to Silver Dollar City schedualed from the sixth to the eighth of August. It was pointless. Incredibly stupid. We were in the middle of Mulletsville. I'm glad it didn't last longer. The only good thing that came out of it was a black cowboy hat and the chance to order DVDs and have Katie Annis hide them in my room so my parents would see them. Other than that, the vacation isn't worth mentioning except for the fact that it futily wiped us out of money. And when I say money I mean my money as well.

Which brings me to tonight. Annie and Katie M. and I went to the mall. I went to ask mum for my money to spend on school clothes. Yes. I asked politely too, if that makes any difference. After a little while of harmlessly pushing her in the direction of "yes, I will give you thirty dollars to buy a few shirts" she gives in in a heap of anger. Gods. Thank you, mother, for throwing the cash at me. Did she really think I was going to pick it up off the floor and spend it after that? I won't take money hurled at me in scorn. I do have pride; perhaps too much, but the situation stands as thus.

I manage to hold it together pretty well, I believe. I curse myself inside my head of course, and feel dejected and miserable, but that's to be counted on. No, I don't have money. No, I don't have a boyfriend. No, I'm not pretty. Shall I go through it in a positive manner? Alright, then. Yes, I'm poor. Yes, I'm single. Yes, I'm ugly. I don't know how much of a difference that makes. The worst part is that I know I'm being stupid. I mean, how much of an idiot to you have to be to get worked up over such mudane affairs? None of that matters what-so-ever, and it's dumb to get upset over it all. It's brainless, obtuse, foolish, daft, imprudent, ludicrous, ill-advised, silly - but that doesn't change anything. I think part of me likes feeling horrible. Why else would I be? I don't fancy sorting through the problem logically, and I HATE, I repeat, HATE sympathy. I am an idiot and I like to feel sorry for myself. I like wallowing in a pit of self-inflicted misery. None of the above crap is even in the top fifty of my priorities. I'm simply looking for a reason to feel like shit.

Bugger. Now I just feel worried; anxious. I hope I get to sleep tonight.

10:44 - depressive phase over. Read trabaca.com blog. Feel better. Now I am about to do something I haven't done in a while: write on my story. I'm hoping to make it really long and good and professional-like and then get it published, but the ratio of published manuscripts to the number of people submitting manuscripts is high. I don't have a good chance. But that won't stop me! Off to write. Ta.

the world above

---

Watching the Bubbles

3rd of August, 2002 [saturday]

time: 11:18 pm
music: none
drinking: nothing
wearing: pants and a black t-shirt
mood: blank

At Katie's house and messing around on her computer while watching 'Me, Myself, and Irene'. Oh, and eating a huge bag of candy. My figure is permenantly ruined but then again I don't give a damn.

In the pool today; it was the first time that I used goggles since I was about nine, and I got a kick out of going under the water and watching the bubbles. Of course, I finally realized that I wasn't a fish and my lungs would collapse if I didn't come up for air, so it was a joyous moment short lived, but a joyous moment none the less.

Once again getting our way, Katie and Annie and Peter and I went to go see 'Signs', which turned out to be an absolutely BRILLIANT movie. Woo.

the world above

---

Social Absurdity

2rd of August, 2002 [friday] [again]

time: 9:42 pm
music: Aemina, Tool
drinking: nothing
wearing: a robe
mood: sinister/outgoing

My groundation is at an end. Tomorrow I am free to do whatever the hell I want. I won't have to sneak around behind my parents back [which is fun, yes, I know, but grows tiresome]. And I'm going to the movies tomorrow with Annie and Katie M. and Ellie and Peter. We're going to see 'Master of Disguise', much to my detest. That film looks horrid. I'd much rather see 'Signs' with Mel Gibson, which is also out now, but no. We have to watch a stupid comedy that, if you don't mind me remarking, appears quite distasteful. I don't like comedies much anymore. They lost their flavor a while ago - or perhaps it's only me who has grown apart from the crued jokes and redundant sexual humor. Either way I don't plan on liking 'The Master of Disguise', but I am seeing it anyways for lack of anything better to do, and on the off-chance that I can get the Radiohead CD in the mall. <--- I know you were waiting for the part where I explain how I would benefit from this outing. I'm so self-absorbed.

Anyhoo [remind me never to say that again, lest I sound like my mother], Slender Gazelle and Limber Grasshopper came over today. Again. We watched 'The Winter Guest' because Annie's lifebonded, Sean Biggerstaff [lovely surname, btw] is in it. I adored his rant about how his balls hadn't dropped yet. Gods know it sounded brilliant in that scottish dialect of his.

On a completely different note that in no way is funny or sardonic, I find myself trapped between two of my best mates. Needless to say I am making more out of the situation than need be, I have time on my hands and nothing better to do than to blog about it. First of all, what went on between them in no way concerns me if it wasn't for the fact that I was the one mate!1 told about an 'incident' involving mate!2, and my house was where the ghastly all-night fiasco of confusion and illicit blabbings took place. [and because I manage to wedge myself into all of my friends affairs no matter what the cost]. So. To put it blandly [not that I haven't already been doing so] mate!1 and mate!2 are at ends and I am in the middle [and am ironically enough doing things with both of them the following week]. Peachy Keen.

the world above

---

Blissfully Insane

2nd of August, 2002 [friday]

time: 12:49 am
music: nothing
drinking: nothing
wearing: paul frank shirt
mood: unstable

I realize that it is more yesterday than it is today but I am starting a new thread on account that it is 12:50 am, and therefore today, being 50 minutes past the mid of the night.

That being out of the way I must print this peachily wonderful conversation of me scaring an innocent. [or not so innocent. he's a prep. *shrugs*]

NeuroticLovely: do you know my plan to murder all preppy people?
NeuroticLovely: OH! opps. I'm terribly sorry. Wrong instant message.
Hockeygod88: omg
Hockeygod88: omg
NeuroticLovely: either way - do you know my plan?
NeuroticLovely: and who are you, by the way?
NeuroticLovely: just wondering. Are you on my list? *scans list* nope, not yet.
NeuroticLovely: do you want to be?
NeuroticLovely: I think you do.
Hockeygod88: no
NeuroticLovely: oh I'm making a list - checking it twice!
NeuroticLovely: I'm gonna find out who to slaughter or dice!

Honestly! Could you get more air headed than that? Oh I'm laughing. Tee hee hee. What a fun night. I have loads more conversations to post but I daren't put them here where a wandering eye might belookest upon their uncivilized content. Tee hee hee.

the world above

---

Wordless Prison

1st of August, 2002 [thursday]

time: 4:47 pm
music: nothing
drinking: nothing
wearing: superman boxers
mood: liberal

Angered. I am angered. I know I shouldn't let other peoples opinions bother me but they do!

Alright, so I was talking to an acquaintance about whether or not gay people should be allowed to get married. Of course I think that they should; love is love, no matter what gender it is with. But then he comes back with a completely ignorant remark like "it's just not right". No elaboration. If you are going to be biased you might as well do it on some actual grounds other than "it's just not right"

Back to my enragement. If there is one thing on this earth that I cannot stand, it is people who think like that: closemindedness. It's been like that ever since I was 10 and I was studying Wicca and got a load of crap from catholic relatives about how it was 'devil worship', which it's not. Then there was the 2000 election and my friend and I got in a fight over pro-choice [she thought it was baby-slaughter. i said it was the mothers right to choose and under some circumstances abortion is the answer]. Now it's this homosexual rights thing that I'm getting greif from people about.

It just bothers me so much when others can't see past their tiny, miniscule beliefs. I know I can't change what people think; I have tried in the past to explain some issues, but when you're raised to believe on thing the mind is nausiatingly stubborn. I know I should leave this alone but there is this part of me that is just so angry at these intolerant persons. It's like being in one of those horrible, one where you can't say or do anything to influence the outcome. My own wordless prison.

the world above

---

Contact Isolation

30th of July, 2002 [tuesday]

time:4:53 pm
music: I Can't, Radiohead
drinking: nothing
wearing: black on black
mood: vacant

Grounded: Day Two. Limber Grasshopper [annie] and Slender Gazelle [katie] came over to my house. We dressed up in big poofy dresses and walked around the neighborhood. Joy.

Tonight I am going to preview a fencing lesson with my mum to see if I want to take the lessons myself. [Though we already know the answer to that. O' course I want to learn to use a sword. I own two, don't I?] Which reminds me, I got this 'Sword of Serpents' off of e-bay. His name is 'Mortifer', which means 'to bring death' in Latin. V. fitting.

What Was Your PastLife?

the world above

---

Arsenic and Champaigne

29th of July, 2002 [monday]

time: 8:27 pm
music: Creep, Radiohead
drinking: diet coke
wearing: very dark brown.
mood: subdued

Grounded: Day One. So what if I was carrying a torch around the yard and yelling "aiiii! aiiii!". My mum shouldn't punish me for it. I asked her, "Mum, do you want me to deny my innate nature?" She said 'yes'. I came back with something about how she wouldn't ask Vanyel to sleep with a woman so why should she tell me not to play with fire. All in all it didn't make a whole lot of sense.

Annie and I have code names. She is Limber Grasshopper, and I am Traveling Monkey. All of this created when we were setting marshmellows on fire and flinging them across the yard on forks. V. entertaining. "FALLEN SOLDIER IN BACKYARD JUNGLE!" just kidding.

On a side note, I wrote a poem today. And I never write poetry. I don't know what got into me. Anyways, here it is:

Champaign and Arsenic

A wineglass sits before me,
it’s contents crimson red.
The liquid carries serpents force
to lay a grown man dead.

Respite, I feel impending
Respite that’s overdue.
Shaded thoughts of darkness
paint the minds-eye blue.

The rim I feel upon my lips
the liquor faintly chilled.
A pause; and all on earth
is at a deathly still.

the sweet and the bitter tinge
that tastes of poisoned wine
warms the blood and guides the head
to it’s despoiled shrine.

The veins carry potent venom now,
the heart beats thick and slow.
And of the minds horrific thoughts
the world will never know.

Live for Elijah. Die for Elijah.
× lifebonded ×

the world above

---

Dreamland

26th of July, 2002 [friday]

time: 11:08 pm
music: Schism, Tool
drinking: blood
wearing: handcuffs
mood: sardonic

I'm on the verge of a story idea. I have no plot and barely any content, but I have a wicked title and from there I must procede. It's crap right now, only some of my self-ammused rantings. Here:

LOST IN DREAMLAND
There are no constants in life. This is why the prospect of living is so unsettling. It’s not the fear of illness or pain or the fear of death that makes existence intolerable; it’s the simple fact that nothing stays the same. This idea proves more troubling than social anxieties, depression, or insecurity added together do in the human psyche.
Clearly, there are always falsities and facades on regularity. Take your morning rituals, for instance: get up, drink your coffee, head out to work.... But eventually there will be a snag in the pattern, a time when the monotony breaks in half and dissolves into a menagerie of skewed pieces that spread out to form a jigsaw puzzle of life.
Sometimes I think that dreaming keeps me sane.

Yeah, so that's it so far. Weird. Doesn't make sense. But the point is that I'm writing, which is something that I haven't had the motovation to do all summer.

Funny conversation while in a chatroom with this terribly preppy girl who actually had a pink and yellow font *shudders*

NeuroticLovely: so I heard that there is this gang called the 'NASRAK' that go around killing preppy people. No one here would have any idea what that's about, eh?
NightBlades25: lol
NightBlades25: NASRAK huh?
PeteS445: killing preppy girls?
NeuroticLovely:And boys. Basically just preps in general.

You see, the funny thing was, was that they were clueless. Well, not Annie [for once].
[in case you're wondering, NASRAK is a group my friends and I made up. Flip it around and you get KARSAN, which is our initials put together: Katie Annis, Roberta Singer, and Annie Nieman.]

the world above

---

Of Swords and of Bowling Balls

20th of July, 2002 [saturday]

time: 5:33
music: Warning, Incubus
drink: none
wearing: black pants and a grey shirt
mood: nervous

All today I've been in this anxious sort of mood and I have no idea why. It might be because I am at a v sad part in my book. Books often influence my moods. At least that thought is better than the alternative, which is....never mind.

I placed a bid for a sword on e-bay. As much as I detest the entire bidding/ebay idea, it was low-priced sword and I couldn't resist. The bad part: you pay with a check. It'll be awfull hard to pull this off without mum or father finding out. *glances around innocently* What? Anyways, if I am to be the queen of online shopping, I will at least need to use e-bay once. So. There. [speaking of that I believe I will order the second 'sandman' comic off amazon or barnes and noble soon. hmmm.]

Getting ready to go bowling with Annie. Joy to the thousand worlds, I get to throw a heavy ball down a slick wooden shoot and knock down big white pins for an hour while eating fatty mozzerella sticks. As if my sides needed more flab.

the world above

---

Sleep is a Many Splended Thing

18th of July, 2002 [thursday]

time: 5:32 pm
music: none
drink: none
wearing: plaid boxers and a tank top
mood: serene

Woke up a half an hour ago. Late? Ha, I went to sleep at ten in the morning. Couldn't sleep. Long story. V. tired right now. I think I may pass out on the computer. Humans seriously underestimate the power of sleep....

I'm going to the Muny [in forest park! duhn.] to go see 'Peter Pan'. I just wish I wasn't so damn tired.

In the mood to re-read Magic's Pawn [mercedes lackey]. Huh, and write the [collaborative] book: "The Little Big Book of Confusing Sexuality" courtesy of the previous night.

Mmm. Off to spend a [sarcastically] fun night with the fam. Ta-Ta.

the world above

---

Uneasy Reveries

17th of July, 2002 [wednesday]

time: 3:01 pm
music: none
drink: diet coke
wearing: black
mood: apprehensive

I had a very odd dream last night that I can't remember exactly, except for that I was in a very odd mood when I awoke. I felt...strange, afterwards. Dreading something. Anxious. WHY CAN'T I BLOODY REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS?!

Ah, well. Janna and Lauren are coming over tonight and we're going to go the the gallaria. Maybe that's where I'm getting my apprehension - my wallet is nearly empty and I am being forced to dig into my savings for money. Perhaps I am having finance issues. Who knows.

3:02 - Cypress [my great insane ginger cat] will stand in the doorway of my room and give a long, sorrowful 'mew', then run off. He does this once every five minutes. It's getting to be somewhat of a nuisence.

3:03 - Drat, he did it again. I think it's a plee for attention. That, or he is upset because Juniper [black dainty female counterpart. cat.] has regected his offer for kitty-love. Poor thing.

4:54 - Eating beef jerky and swedish fish and cheese crackers. Yummm.

Ah, I figured that would be my deadly sin.

the world above

---

A Desolate and Morbid Future

16th of July, 2002 [tuesday]

time: 11:40 pm
music: none
drink: water
wearing: harry potter t-shirt
mood: composed

I had an odd dream about carrying a really heavy bag of skittles from Katie's house to some train station. I kept falling because it was weighing me down. Go figure that I went out and bought skittles when I woke up. [or within an hour of when I awoke. it takes a while for me to get started and I don't want to accidentally walk out without a bra or something idiotic like that.]

After a long search the previous night, I finally found my i-zone camera, which turned out to be in the first place I looked last night. It's bright green - how I could have skimmed it over remains a mystery.

Annie mailed a letter to warner brothers asking for a ticket to fly to London and meet the cast of Harry Potter. It was a good, pursuasive letter. She hopes to get the answer back tomorrow or the next day. If they grant that to her, as I told her, will be tragically and insanely jealous and might as well turn to homocide via my sword Velcimor. Then I went on to explain how, when she and Katie M. [other friend. rich. could easily get tickets and is going to London next summer, drat her] are away I will fall into a never ending pit of depression and be left to go the the HP2 CoS movie alone at 6:30 in the morning. When the film is over I will stand up in front of the screen and commit suicide from anger and insane jealousy.
The earn that was to carry my ashes will be black and have "Harry and Draco Forever" engraved on there in silver letters, courtesy of Annie [betrayer]. But you see, my bussiness on earth was unfinished, so I come back as a ghost and terrorize Annie and Katie and Warner Brothers. Eventually I kill Annie and we have this horrible rivalry on the astral plain that eventually ends in a cataclysmic battle and destroys human kind.

I hoped this would seriously discourage her from going to London without me but it appears I have failed again. It comes from being Roberta.

The gas station across the street was throwing away an old sunglass rack. I don't know how it got into my hands or why I could be found walking away with it; all I know now is that I have a perfectly useless sunglass rack in my basement. Hurrah.

I need new glasses frames. >.<

Car ride home from dropping Annie and Katie off: father and I talk about cannibalism. Odd conversation. I don't want to go through it.

the world above

---

The Wretchedness of Boredom

15th of July, 2002 [monday]

time: 1:16 pm
music: Paint it Black by The Tea Party
drink: diet coke
wearing: pajamas
mood: hopelessly bored

Just woke up. Had Vanyel-ish dream. V frightening. Forgetting about it. *pause* STUPID MIND! FORGET! FORGET!

Oooh quizzes....

Take Which 'fallen one' are you? Quiz by Xera

I'm Satan. Who would have guessed? *shrugs*

'What kind of Wing are you?' by. Xera

In other words, I'm Vanyel in the beginning of "Magic's Pawn" [mercedes lackey].

I am terrifyingly evil! Find your soul type at kelly.moranweb.com.
enough said.

Satan...Dark Faerie...*cough* Sadistic? Nope. Not a bit.

2:30 - Reading 'Howl's Moving Castle' by Diana Wynne Jones. I love the name 'Calcifer'. Hmm...pizza sounds good.

3:15 - When I asked for the smallest size they had at IMO's, I figured it would contain more than nine slices. Oh well. I ordered cheesy bread on the side.

3:16 - It's sad when the most interesting thing in your day is a miniature pizza. I believe I will play with my new sword 'Velcimor'. The blade needs polishing. [no. seriously. i have a sword. ... and they have the nerve to call me evil!]

6:30 -

must. read. slash. fanfiction.
a sexually abused draco malfoy...a harry potter in need of *someone* to give him a good fuck...*drools*

9:34 - trying to explain to my mum as to how a room full of fat men that have all slept with richard simmons for comfort sex can be amusing. attempt: unsuccessful. I don't understand adults humor and they don't understand mine.

the world above

---

I'm Not Cynical....

14th of July, 2002 [sunday]

time:11:45 pm
music: none
drink: diet coke
wearing: handcuffs and a towel
mood: rebellious

LaLaLa. So I decided to make a blog today. We’ll see how it goes....

I tried to convince Annie to get a Hufflepuff Harry Potter scarf instead of Gryffindor, because she is so obviously a Hufflepuff. Actually, this is simply a way of exercising my brilliant act of persuasion. Or driving people crazy. Whatever. Anyways, our conversation went as such:

NeuroticLovely: so get black and yellow. Gryffs suck anyways.
NeuroticLovely: it matches your natural colouring!!!
NeuroticLovely: red and gold don't. red and gold are ugly
NeuroticLovely: and everybody will look at you and say "look at that ugly, horrible, DISLOYAL Hufflepuff!!"
NightBlades25: STOP!!
NeuroticLovely: she's so warped into a guy, she is letting him take over her life
NeuroticLovely: she’s letting down her own pride for a Quidditch captain
NeuroticLovely: WHO, BY THE WAY, IS GAY!!!!

I got a Slytherin-coloured scarf, in case you are wondering. Green and Silver. It's wicked.

Meanwhile, being my bored self, I went to DailyConfessions.com to read up on other people's sins [don't ask] and ran across one I found amusing. It's called I Hate Americans. Don't get me wrong; I live in St. Louis, Missouri. But not for long. [i'm leaving this country and moving to london as soon as I get out of college. or before.] Anyways, it's funny. Haha funny. You know. Hell, just read it.

Bat meets computer: Episode one. I feel I must express my absolute livid anger towards my computer. DIE YOU HORRID MACHINE! DIE!!!! Mmm. A little better.

I am talking to a brick wall [a.k.a. annie] but that's alright because she is my best mate and I must put up with her antics. .... scratch that. She is putting up with me and my cynical bitchiness. Ho hum. Good for her!

       I'm going to sleep now...
         Ta. Roberta.

the world above