Wednesday, December 29, 2010

ALSO

Last night my mother and I went to Ross. We bought clothes. I got a cute dress, a skirt and a kickass pair of shoes, all that I could wear to Prom, for under 50 bucks.

Now, I need an above-semi-formal occassion to wear it to.

THUNDER OR WHAT?

I had a dream last night of which I don't remember much, but I did remember hearing the thundering footsteps of a Big Daddy.

5:40 in the morning, I hear a knock on my door. I also hear the thundering noise again, coming in five-second intervals. I went to the door and expected to see my Son there. He was sick all last night throwing up--I think it's because he didn't wash his hands after handling the crabs and then eating. I saw him there and he asked me, "What's that noise?"

"Maybe it's the dogs," I replied. My mother and I had brought in the dogs last night because we had heard that the temperature would be below freezing. We went to the laundry room, where they stayed. The noise was definetly louder there, but it wasn't coming from the dogs. In fact, the animals were dead silent. "It's not them."

"They must be scared out of their minds," Son said. I wondered what it could be. It sounded like the Jolly Green Giant flicking the roof or something. I turned and spied a red light outside the window to the front of the house.

We went to it and saw a truck with some sort of crane leading up to the roof. I wondered what they were doing, but they certainly couldn't be doing any sort of evil if they were being loud like this, and Mike or Mom wasn't freaking out. I considered asking them about it, but I figured they were asleep. So I went back to bed, still hearing the house-rattling BOOM every five seconds.

After a while, it stopped. I went back to sleep.

Later that morning, my mother came into my room to say good-bye. I asked her what the noise was, and she said it was people putting shingles on our roof. I considered this: Wouldn't that take more than five or so minutes of BOOMing? But they only put those shingles on our house, not really setting them down and stuff. I'm sure stapling shingles into place would be alot quieter.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

MOAR CREATURES IN THIS HOWSE

Yesterday, with River, we went to PetSmart and got a pair of hermit crabs. They're really cute, even thought they don't do much. We named them Julio and Consuela. Julio is the larger one. At first, when we put the hermit crabs in the ten-gallon tank, Consuela was the first to roam around. She found herself a spot to burrow in and has stayed there ever since. Julio was different. He wouldn't move for anything for the first half hour, but later, I spied him in a different place, creeping back into his shell after I had tromped into the room. He's scared of people. Each time I went back into the room after that, I saw Julio crawling around--so I creeped in quietly and watched his slow progression towards the banana chip treats.

Later, as I played Bioshock 2, my brother and I noticed him putting his legs and claws up against the glass, towards us. I wondered what he expected to achieve by doing this. Was he angry at us for taking him in captivity? Or did he want to be closer? Either way, we did nothing to him and watched in semi-fascination.

Son wanted to know how to tell the difference between male and female hermit crabs, so he went to look it up. We never bothered to ask the people at PetSmart what they were. He came back later and told me that females will have two small dots on their undersides. Okay. First, the crab needs to be compliant and come out of its shell. THEN you can check for their two-dot thingy.

I think that we know for sure that Julio is not female. Now we wait for Consuela to be nice and quit sleeping.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

ABANDONING YOU

I was so wrapped up in video games that I never bothered to write in my blog. It's more like a journal, really. But easier to write in. It doesn't take .5 seconds to write a letter. And 2 seconds to write a word. More like .5 seconds to write a word, if that makes any sense.

I've been thinking more in numbers lately, believe it or not. Like how my dream last night was about how black holes appear--that when there is a negative integer in the XYZ matrix, a black hole appears. It doesn't make any sense at all, but it did while I was asleep. And the two hours afterwards.

For Christmas, I accquired a number of things. Most of it money. My parents think I'm hard to buy for. Am I? Honestly, I appreciate every gift I recieve, even if it's something I have to act like I like. They thought of me, and that's all that counts. For Christmas Eve, I was over at my Dad's house, and we got to open up gifts three days early. It wasn't because anyone was impatient--okay, maybe the ten-year-old with ADHD was--but it was because the gifts we recieved would be so much more fun if we got to use them. The boys got Nerf guns, which I helped assemble. I like being a helping hand on the battlefield. xD I recieved a blanket and pillow set, a macramé set, gift cards, a suede-covered sketchbook, calligraphy pens and candy. I've been making macramé bracelets since, slept with that pillow and blanket more than once (It resides over at my father's house along with the asian Lung plushie and Skunky), drawn in the sketchbook, and eaten all the chocolate I could find in the candy when my period got me in the change-my-drawers-three-times-a-day blues. I also used the calligraphy pens. Once. I haven't done any calligraphy in a little over a year. I used one of the gift cards--an iTunes gift card. I got Chopin, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane (not Starship), Beirut, Oceanlab, AC/DC, Guns n' Roses and Stevie Ray Vaughn all on one disc--of course, many separate songs. I am in possession of only one Chopin and Stevie Ray Vaughn song. The others, I have more than one.

At my grandmother's house, I recieved a much smaller amount of gifts but the significance was just as much if not higher. Scrabble slam, a hand-sewn shawl with pockets on each side, and a sewing box with a whole manner of sewing goodies inside, including but not limited to: a pair of scizzors, a ton of pins, tracing paper, a tape measure, and a wire necklace made by a distant relative. It was a cute gift. I'm officially the old lady of the house.

At home, we opened our presents on Christmas Eve because a few people wouldn't be able to attend the Christmas party. I recieved a box and a basket. My son gave me a pair of mukluks I am currently wearing. It feels like walking on a cloud. My mother and step-father gave me gifts of money, a gift certificate to a professional hair place, candy, lotion and a cinnamon candle. My mother's boss, whom she is close with, gave us all a sum of two hundred and fifty dollars in gift cards. Maybe less. I forgot the exact number. I gave my son a DS Lite so that we can both play, instead of him using my DS all the time. He was estatic. He's also enjoying the Final Fantasy on DS as well. FF never dies.

Christmas Day, we had the party at our house. I didn't get any gifts from anyone, but my cousin Sebastian gave a number of people Christmas cards with two dollar bills in them. Not two separate bills, but one bill with the number two on it. I love Sebastian. He's so quirky. He's got hand writing like a serial killer and a moustache and goatee combination like Robin Hood from Men in Tights. xDD

Now is the best part of Christmas: enjoying the loot and gobbling up the rest of the feast.

I've been playing Bioshock 2, borrowed from my dad and his girlfriend. It's great. I never played the first one. It gives me a terrible headache after two hours, but it's worth it.

I didn't get any clothes this year. Strange. That's one of the many things I expect.

Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

SUDDENLY BLOCKED

The school has now blocked me from seeing my blog posts. But they can't stop me from posting. >8D

Today is my brother's birthday. Next week it will be mine. We were both concieved on the same day, but we're about a week apart. Weird, I know. We have the same birthday month, but we're not twins. xD

I am obsessed with tails. That's why Miles "Tails" Prower is my favorite Sonic character (no, that's not really the reason--it's because he's yellow and cute and has TWO TAILS ♥♥♥). But I have always wanted a tail. Lately, I've been thinking that a prehensile tail would be best, because not only would it look cool, but it would be able to grab things. Like a third hand. 8D

Last night, I was watching Babylon A.D. until about 11:00. I didn't get to see all of it. I love Vin Diesel. He's sexay. 8D I told my mother he's handsome and she told me, "Eh, he's got a nice body but, he's lacking in that area." Whatever mum. I think he's handsome.

Anyway, while I was watching it, the dogs were inside, just hanging, when all of a sudden, I smelled the fiercest, most disgusting stench that could ever invade my home. It smelled like ass that hadn't been washed for eight years. "Ohmigawd," I said, and looked down. Sitting right below me was my black pit-mix Hershey. The nasty bitch. "Dude, that was Hershey! Hershey just farted! Ugh!"

Dog farts are the worst. Like, no shit, it was like rotten egg on top of rotten meat on top of unwashed ass. Add a little skunk for good measure. Holy fuck, that dog can smell.

I turned the fan on. When Mike came out to tell us to turn the TV off and stop watching muscly Vin Diesel goodness, he asked why the fan was turned on. "Hershey farted," I told him.

"You don't need to turn the fan on for a dog fart," he said.

"No, you don't understand," I told him, "IT STANK!"

I turned it off anyway, since nobody would be in there, and went to bed.

Monday, December 6, 2010

OWWWWIIIIEEEE

My tummy hurts. I want to go home. I wish I could have stayed home. I don't want to be at school right now.

Yesterday, I missed church because I was sick. Cold and all that. Mucus up in my nose and all. It wasn't very pleasant. This morning, my mother made me a Jimmy Dean sausage crossiant patty thingy and I couldn't eat it. Every time I bit into it, I would gag. So, I have nothing in my stomach today. I wonder if I'll throw up before lunch, so I don't have to waste that as well.

I want to throw up now and go home.

Friday, December 3, 2010

NOT THE FIRST TIME

I had a relatively bad day today.

First, I forgot my pencil bag (or lost it, I don't know which) and couldn't do ANYTHING in my first hour, so I borrowed a pen from Barefoot and it was all-right later.

But then, my mother called me and I was hoping it was going to be about my lost pencil bag and she found it in her car and was going to drop it off for me. But of course not. Instead, she called me to say that I was failing classes and needed to talk to x and x teacher. I asked her about my pencil bag, but she said she didn't see it in her car. Damn.

THEN, I go to talk to x-teacher. He tells me that I need to give him back a test, because the grade wasn't in, and that's why my grade was so bad. I also needed to do such and such assignment. All-right, I said, chipper as a fiddle (that doesn't make much sense but whatever), and went to retrieve my test. I go back, and it turns out that his door is locked. WTF? He KNEW that I was coming back to give him the paper! Why was it locked? So, dutifully, I sat and waited outside his door for about 15-30 minutes. Some man walked to the door and tried it, without much success. Finally, I stood and figured, "I'll come back in ten minutes."

I go to Diddy's room and sit and do some HW. Girls are in there talking about buying fetish toys for significant others/friends they joke with. They leave and I inform Diddy of two things: I was once tricked into searching "lap dance" on the computers as an uninformed 5th or 6th grader, and a kid who liked me before, didn't pay much attention to me again, was now paying attention to me again. I feel bad. I don't want to have to shoot him down. I've got too many things to do, not enough time to nourish a romantic relationship. I'll wait until after I'm done with school.

Mother calls me. I tell her the news about the x-teacher not opening up. She tells me to go back. So I do. Turns out, the door isn't locked anymore. I do my stuff and get out.

I go back to Diddy's room. A girl invites me to go to First Fridays. "I dunno," I tell her, but she wants my phone number anyway. So I get hers, call her later once I get a somewhat straight "yes" from the Parental Guidances. Her car is overheating. "I'll text you the number," she says. I don't have texting. So she just tells me. I write it down and call this girl.

She doesn't answer, and her answering machine says that I should text her if I really want to talk to her. But I leave a message anyway.

About 15-30 minutes later, she calls me. "Who is this?" Well, I dunno, numbskull, YOU called ME. Are you meaning to tell me that you call unlabeled numbers and ASK who they are? It could be a pedophile, you dipshit! I tell her who I am. I ask for the plan. They're already on the lightrail. "Whatever, I just won't go," I tell her. "Okay. We'll take lots of pictures for you!" she says. Hang up. I'm not so upset that they just forgot about me, but that this is the SECOND TIME that I've been invited to go to the damned First Fridays and I HAVEN'T GONE for ONE REASON OR ANOTHER.

I think I just might retire from going anywhere with my friends at all. It's usually not that great anymore, anyway.