It's funny. You always dream of being the best- you want it, you work for it....and then suddenly, you are it. You're the best. But when you go back and work with those who used to be your peers, you get bored. There's no challange. You long to work with your superiors once more. Being on top and being happy seem to be mutually exclusive.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 2:00 PM
Friday, December 06, 2002
As much as I despise Christina and all things sleazy-pop, you earn a smidge of respect when you include a transvestite, two gay men, an anorexic, a pyromaniac, and a scrawny guy in a music video without a hint of sarcasm.
In other news, I'm really tired. I'm beginning to think I'd love Big Brother if only he could get rid of the bags under my eyes.
Other ways for BB to earn my love- figure out why my fingernails are in a constant state of decay; somehow remove Dubya from office in an amusing way; develop a kind of beef that contains no actual beef; and/or get certain people to realize other certain things, even when these certain people or certain things are not specified, as they are here.
You're so blind, GP.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 11:53 PM
My citrus-y self loves this.
I have been described as a Citrus Cow, an Indie Prep and even an Indie Cow
Could Citrus Prep-dom be too far off?
Whatever. I still love those dang orange trees.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 6:56 PM
I am trying to place the odor of my fingers. They do not smell like their normal, skin-like selves.
If you have any theories, lay 'em on me. I've already disproved grass, toast, and aluminum.
And if your idea is dirty, you're just wrong. In numerous ways.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:35 PM
I am so glad its Friday.
I am also glad that I have been blessed with an abundance of socks, for I have recently stepped in a yellow liquid produced by a dog that soiled the ones I was (were? I hate plurals that aren't really plural) wearing.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:06 PM
Thursday, December 05, 2002
There are these dolls they have in Japan. When you buy them, the dolls have no eyes. Then you make a wish, and draw in one eye. If the wish comes true, then you color in the other.
And wouldn't it be totally sad and creepy if you walked into a room/house/airport hangar and it was filled completely with one eyed dolls? Dear God.
I've had this in my head for several days now.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:09 PM
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
It is sad to see how many of my peers believe that World War II took place in the 70's. And they're not even sure of the century.
It's also sad to see how our teachers cannot teach us better--how can they, when the curriculum starts in 1492 (when Columbus sailed the ocean blue!) and we're lucky to make it to the 20th century by the end of the year. This is all American history, of course. We know more about George Washington than we do about George Bush.
Which could be mixed blessing.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:47 PM
Monday, December 02, 2002
It is not soy based. It is not biodegradable. It is not sandlike in texture and pink in color. It does not come in a Faberge egg. Someday you're just going to have to accept it- there is no magic pixie dust.
In a town not too far away, there were two elderly sisters. They lived 20 miles away. They were driving to each other's houses on Thanksgiving. They crashed head-on, killing both instantly.
And as morbid and sad as it is, I can't stop laughing.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:09 PM
I babysit this girl everyday after school. She's ten, and homeschooled. She's kind of a brat, but then again, I would be too if I was locked up in my house all day.
Anyway, today Kazzie (short for Kazmira) got in a fight with her only friend. She spent an hour yelling at the friend in the phone.
"She's LYING to you, Chelsea!"
"Chelsea, if you can't believe me through my teeth, you're not a true friend."
"You have to make a choice- ME or HER."
"Oh, I can make other FRIENDS."
This was followed up by faint sound of sobbing in her room.
You know, I always used to hate babysitting for that kid. It was just a job for me, and I looked forward to the sound of her father's car rolling in the driveway. But now....I mean, I feel bad for her. She can't make other friends. She doesn't know how, she doesn't have the experience. She's locked up in her house all day. She doesn't know how to just be a kid. So I made her hot chocolate and a peanut butter favorite and let her play with my hair.
So, in conclusion, I'm sorry for going all soap-opera and such. But I needed to get that out.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 9:07 PM
I log on to AIM. I am greeted by a large banner that reads, "She's legal! Britney turns 21!" Dear god, help us all. With the combined effect of the Britmeister and the Bush twins all turning 21 within a week, I wouldn't be surprised if the nation's suicide rates go waaaaay up.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 5:27 PM
Sunday, December 01, 2002
My church is big on incorporating the youth into everything, presumably to make sure we're god fearing and all that when we go off to college and our parents no longer have any control. However, their enthusiasm to include us often forces "the youth" to go to church at least three times a week, and spend countless hours preparing for these events. It's rather counterproductive, if you ask me. Whatever.
Anyway, we are now in a Secret Santa program. Today I received cow socks. They are the most coolest thing you could ever find, moreso because "most coolest" is not grammatical. I wore them to volleyball today. I played awesome, if I do say so myself. Bessy must've been willing my ankles to move where they must. Moo.
I think that churches worldwide could connect better with us youngin's if they just doled out random bovine items from time to time.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 6:00 PM