It should also be noted that I did, in fact, reunite with my Most Imaginary Friend (or MIF, as he will be referred to henceforth), though it isn't quite the same since depressing conversation of two weeks ago. Can't shake feeling that he thinks I'm a loser. This is one of my biggest problems - I like people who are really similar to me, but they always seem to not like me, or like me but want someone who's better than themselves because they don't like themselves. Does this mean, in some twisted way, that I like myself after all?

Ok, this is kind of mean, but also really hilarious (yes, I know it doesn't link). http://maddox.xmission.com/irule2.html "Rachel?? More like RACIST!! Nice try, Hitler." HEEHEEHEEHEE!!! That is SO wrong.

New idea for war substitute: Monopoly. Whoever gets hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place wins. Unless Saddam decided to go the Baltic-Mediterrenean-Vermont-Oriental-Connecticut slumlord route. Then Bush might be in trouble.

-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
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Um... er... *blinks* I don't even know what to say about this, I'm just so touched...

Funny phrase of day, old school: "Big-ass ham."

Am in very, very bad mood. The phrase "cabin fever" has hit home with stunning clarity and force. I think I might actually qualify for hermit status now. Can you register as a hermit with the government and have them send you supplies of like, flannel shirts, and maybe blocks of surplus cheese? Doubtful. Hermits- the FORGOTTEN minority! (Note to self: ad-campaign.)

I had like, all this stuff I was going to blog, and I can't remember any of it. My head is all muzzy. I NEED AIR!!! *opens door and is blown back by Arctic blast*

So. The situation is:
1. It is butt-freezing outside.
2. I have no transportation.
3. There is nowhere to go, anyway.
4. I can't even take a walk or rollerblade when it warms up because there are no fucking sidewalks and everything is all bendy and twisty due to mountains.
5. I hate this place.
6. My life is bleak as bleak can be.


Also, I really wish male contestants on Lingo would not sort of leer at the camera when they pull out number 69. It's subtle, but still. Come on. Or maybe they can't help it. Maybe men see "69" and raise their eyebrows and look naughty AUTOMATICALLY. Like when I used to not be able to say "toilet paper" without cracking up.

Toilet paper. *giggles*

I really hate when some guy looks at his wife/girlfriend and says "She's the boss!" Sometimes you get the feeling he's being patronizing, like "I *let* her be the boss, wink wink," and sometimes you get the feeling the guy's just a pussy. Either way, it's sickening. Is it really less belittling to have to keep a full-grown man "in line" than to be under some guy's thumb? I mean, why does anyone have to be the boss? People's relationships are so depressing!

Also, I don't actually have Bermuda shorts. In case anyone was wondering.

Ever.

My hair finally looks exactly like I want it to. I mean, it looks really spiffy. I can so be a rockstar now. (Because obviously, the only thing that's been holding me back is Bad Hair.)

Also, Alex Trebek is the biggest dork in the universe and should not ever be allowed to sing, ever.

There's a HUGE mountain of dirty black snow outside my apartment. I want to have my picture taken in front of it wearing like, Bermuda shorts or something and caption it "Welcome to Paradise."

I love these purple pop-tarts with green icing. Bless the creative minds of the good folks at Kellogg's.

Hmm. Can't have a post that's entirely about pop-tarts. What else can I say? Maybe something about granola. In retrospect, I prolly should have had the bowl of granola instead of the pop-tart, as opposed to in addition to it. Perhaps when they start making granola in purple and green. But then the milk would turn a disgusting sort of gray-puce colour, and I've spent way too much time on this subject.

""To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." "

Yeah. That's it.

FIGHT THE POWER! Word.

I saw a couple great quotes recently. I don't remember them exactly so I'll just paraphrase: "If you look, you may not leap." Good advice for most people; bad advice for people who live by the edge of a cliff. The other one was something about remaining yourself when people do everything in their power to convince you otherwise. Or something. Damn, I really gotta get that quote. Hang on.

href="http://ramsites.net/~s2varope/net/fortunemain.html"> src="http://ramsites.net/~s2varope/net/images/fortune/5.jpg" border=none>
href="http://ramsites.net/~s2varope/net/fortunemain.html"> Come get your fortune
read!
Created by ptocheia

My fortune is... "You will be questioned by a woman named Sally, who is also startlingly tall."


*gasp* Sally must have found out about my secret cache of chee... no, I've said too much! I'm *not* going to try to take over the world with a turbo-charged catapult and some well-placed cubes of extra-sharp cheddar, not at all! Project CheeseLaunch simply does not exist. Where would you ever get such a crazy idea?! *laughs nervously*

*grumbles under breath* Curses! Foiled again!

0=00111141011411477888888888844444140447788888888884444


This message has been brought to you by my cat, who just randomly walked across the keyboard. Or... is it random? Maybe it's a secret message from the cat world! The equal sign makes me think some kind of complicated mathematical equation, but it's prolly just something about tuna.

Excellent. I was just looking out the window and thinking, "What we need now is more snow." I love when my sarcastic prayers are answered.

I just watched Ghost World, and I'm going to watch it again when it's on in an hour. This is the bright side of having no life, if you want to watch the same damn movie twice in one night, who's going to stop you? The dark side is, if you want to go beat your noisy upstairs neighbours to death with a frozen leg of lamb, who's going to stop you? NO ONE!! MUAHAHAHA!!! Er.

I want to make a short film called "Puppet People." This would entail sitting in places where boring office-type people hang out and penning their most dreadful, mundane statements to paper. These would be turned into a montage of statements, spoken at close range to the camera by real people. This would comprise almost the entire film, until the end where they are revealed to be dangling by strings, and go puppet-shuffling off into the skyline. This part would, of course, require actual puppets. This idea is copyright to ME, so don't go stealing it. HA!

Nobody wants to be my friend, and I'm out of cheese. *sigh*

When I wear two socks, I find that my feet get too hot. When I wear no socks, I find that my feet get too cold. So, I am now wearing one sock and feel just right. *squishes*

I've noticed the majority of blogs that have words like "crazy," "strange," and "demented" in the title are in fact mundane and boring and written by teenagers who think going to the mall and crushing on their boy/girlfriend constitutes la vida loca. I could not let this irony go unchecked. For the sake of irony everywhere.

And while we're on the subject: 1. Have some rudimentary concept of spelling before you blog, please? Pwetty please? 2. Using letters iN thiS fAShiON is not cool, it is aNNoyiNG! 3. Is it really so hard to type out the words "are" and "you" in their entirety? And 4., is it really so hard to not speak like a gangsta if you're 17, white, and living in Oak Park, Illinois or similar? Thank you.

I want to marry Tim Quirk of Too Much Joy just so i can be Lissa Quirk. I truly do. Unless he's already married, and his wife has a cool name, like... Natasha. Natasha Quirk. I can't possibly compete with that. Or Mona Quirk.

Fasten your seatbelts- it's going to be a bumpy night!!!

Human contact: the final frontier. First, I hate that I have something in common with Comic Book Guy. Second... well, that's pretty much it. Dare I brave the snow, the wind, and the general chill of society in the pursuit of...? It seems some unseen force is pushing me in that direction, kicking and... well, not so much kicking and screaming as emitting a low gutteral moan that only dogs can hear.

Brilliant paragraph from Carl Hiaasen book that sums up whole life: Carrie: "He doesn't seem to fit anywhere." Molly: "You wouldn't want him if he did. The world is full of nice boring young men. The crazy ones are hard to find and harder to keep, but it's worth it." Carrie: "But crazy isn't the word for it, is it?"

This reminds me of what I was thinking the other day, about why life doesn't work, which is basically that nice people are boring and interesting people are assholes. Except me, of course.

For once, though, I should be the one to leave something, even if I'm still just sitting here. I don't wanna hang around like a faded dress, in the wise words of Kay Hanley. But it takes an incredible amount of courage to leave while standing still (not to mention possible supernatural ability).

What kind of strange inertia left me sitting in this chair? Maybe someday I'll be set in motion; then I'll be too busy whizzing by to ever get left behind.

Did I just say "whizzing?" Hehe. Hehe. *Beavis laugh*

OK, so I haven't exactly lost my imaginary friend. I just feel like I should tell him to zark off if I want to be empowered and stuff. I feel this very strongly.*

*actual translation of paragraph: *whimper*

I have discovered that pretty much anything that can be done in regular clothes can also be done in pajamas, with the possible execption of mountain-climbing, which I do not do anyway.

Let's see... what else can I do in my pajamas?

Just went and did laundry in my pajamas. Not really sure how I feel about this.

I bet someone in New York would buy it. *nods* My charred and blackened soul would hang above the trendy post-modern sofa in someone's Manhattan loft. It would have to listen to a lot of pretentious cocktail party chatter, but it would prolly have a much better view than it does now; perhaps overlooking Central Park. Wait, is that in Manhattan? Hmm. My lack of New York knowledge is suddenly painfully obvious.

If I painted a canvas solid black and said it was a portrait of my soul, do you think I could sell it for a million dollars?

So now I have to take my pain and do something artistically significant with it. Hmm. *thinks*

I will always get left, just for the simple fact that I have no where else to go.

Cougar


What Is Your Animal Personality?
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This might be me. Then again, it might not. *is mysterious*

One's dreams should not be more interesting than one's waking life, particularly if one's dreams are about chopping onions. (They were green onions, not white. Just to clarify. Not sure if that's more interesting or not. Just a different colour.)

Actually, tomorrow I'll be chopping onions for real. So you could say, my dreams are about to come true. Whoo!!!

Sign on store window: "We have lampshades!" Yup, that about sums up Morgantown...