A Leg Grows in C Minor

Feeling chatty today apparently. Here's more: Story of the Day Friday night Andrew and I were invited by Angela and Lindsey to a house party of a girl we did not know whatsoever. So...we went. We get to the apt and there are a group of people with dredlocks in the dining room, african americans watching basketball in the livingroom, some random jamaicans and other asians, and us. The apt was really artsy (an art graduate student decorated) and I was in awe just looking at the walls. For example, in the livingroom on the wall there were about 20 pieces of cloth with porn typed onto them with a typewriter. Well after I had a few drinks I noticed that these people lived across from Show World. Mmmm Show World. Soooo I suggested going there, Lindsey decided to ask all these other people if they wanted to go over there, and about 20 minutes later there were about 10 people from the party looking at porn at Show World. Only a few people (as in Andrew and I) actually bought porn, but that

Ah death. What most of us fear, some of us willingly bring about, and everyone wonders about. I began my obsession with death at a young age, watching Beetlejuice every day, sometimes twice a day, until I started dreaming about it. Once it became that real to me, I stopped watching the film so much. This was in 2nd grade. In 5th grade I read novels about main characters with incurable diseases who ultimately died, and then...dum dum dumdum! I found Horror novels . Oh what a find that was. I read every single book in R.L. Stine's Fear Street series, even making my student teacher who I loved read one of my favorites. The books were only about 100 pages so I read them in about 3 hours after school. After the Fear Street novels I couldn't find anything else at my school's library, so I went to the lovely Geneva Free Library to get more. I read most of R.L. Stine's other books (excluding Goosebumps, I felt those were too young for me) and started on Christopher Pike. I rea

I really hate it when my computer decides to erase everything I've written in here and because I wasn't technically on the internet at the time, it doesn't save anything. I could have used the "undo" button, however I didn't know the cool little control + Z shortcut and there was no other way to do it, so poof....gone. I will recreate as best I can. Tim apparently wants me to write from inside me, my feelings, my thoughts, my wants, my needs, etc etc whatever. I don't think that's a good idea right now because, well, I mostly just think about work and Andrew because that's all I really do nowadays, go to work and hang out with him. I hate to be one of those girls that say they will hang out with their friends just as much when they get a boyfriend and then they don't at all, but...yeah, I guess that's how it is. I would love to hang out with my friends more but it's winter and most of them are at least an hour away, if not more. My car

So it's been a little while. Not overly long, but long enough so that I don't feel like updating too many events that have happened in the past week and a half. I'll just do some bitching about my car and maybe talk about various other things that I happen to think of. But I definitely need to bitch about my car. See...... I have come to the belief that my car has been cursed, much like James Dean's "spider" was supposedly cursed. Okay maybe I'm being overdramatic but I'm really annoyed with it right now. -TIMELINE- June 2003: I buy the car June 2003: A tire goes flat, my muffler system develops a crack Winter 2003/2004: My car starts stuttering on occasion and I choose to ignore it, but I do get my muffler fixed March 2004: Someone breaks into my car, shattering my window and stealing my new cd player, taking my new cd with it December 2004: Realize my shocks are shit, get them replaced December 2004: Car stalls out and won't start aga

Now that I have a boyfriend who isn't obsessed with sports all the time (unlike Patrick) I don't feel I have a reason to partake in watching sports on TV. I do like to watch baseball occasionally, but with basketball and football, if I don't have to watch the games I won't. Real life playing is completely different. Anyway so Andrew is working and then going home to play on his computer, Angela and Adam are nowhere to be found, and I say fuck it I'll play poker and write in my blog. So along these lines, I have a small story to relate to you all: I was at Andrew's all night after seeing the film Sideways (good film, love the sex scenes) and we kinda just laid around til he had to go to work at 3 today. So I hadn't showered or even brushed my hair before I left. I am also a bit sick, with a runny nose, so my nose is currently all red. At this time I'm also kinda tired and not really in the mood for conversation. So I have to get gas on my way home a

*This was written last night on my computer, and because my computer has decided to boycott the internet and I had a million things to do today, I couldn't post until this second.* I am pissed right now. I have a fucking stupid ass "Kernel32.DLL" error that won't go away, and I am able to type the name out exactly because #1, I've seen the error 4 times in the past couple of days and #2, the error box is sitting right beside this box because it won't fucking go away. So I tried TWICE to reinstall my wireless notebook adapter card and twice this stupid error came up. So I am going to quit for tonight and give my laptop to my computer genius boyfriend and tell him to have fun. Oh I should probably make it clear that the wireless notebook adapter is what allows me to be on the internet, and If anyone has noticed I haven't been on it much lately. I am actually not on it now and am posting this in wordpad, printing it out, and typing it into my blog at wor