Wow.

Oct. 24th, 2005 02:07 am
trenchkamen: (Ichabod Crane.)
The Sparknotes for Catch-22 are interrupted by an ad for the Air Force.

Wow.
trenchkamen: (Default)
Conversation with the wife )

Today the English teacher mentioned the "Child Crusades", in which the Pope sent children to the Holy Land because they were 'pure' and 'untainted'. My first thought was "Altar boys." And that made me laugh. Is this because I'm sick?

Midnight begins my last twenty-four hours as a legal minor. Really is time to get on that crime spree.

I don't have to be at school tomorrow until 11:30. Hah.
trenchkamen: (Default)
Well, it's already Science Olympiad time again. We won't be doing anything until a month before the competition, I'm sure, but we had our first meeting today. All the old blood is back. Maybe this year we'll make it to nationals. Maybe this year the robot team won't make some damned foolish mistake like miscounting batteries and cost themselves the competition when they had gold secured, goddamnit. If a couple of mishaps had not occurred last year, we would have won first at state. Also, since I lack testicles I'm eligible to win scholarship moneys for competing in engineering events while lacking said testicles. I did too many chemistry events and only one engineering event last year to get said moneys, because chemistry just isn't dominated enough by the patriarchy to merit such affirmative action.

Speaking of which, if I can prove that I am at least 1/16th Native American (some Comanche 'snuck' into Dad's side of the family when they were living in Nowhere Bumfuck County, Oklahoma, back in the day, but nobody will admit to it), I am completely set for life. Basically, I'll have sums of money thrown at me to go to college. But since I'm crackah and I can't prove anything, no federal moneys for me. Yeah the American government isn't racist at all.

Motorcycle Drive By is out of my current league of guitar skillage, but I did figure out the James Bond theme today. I looked at a chart of every single guitar chord in existence and wow that's a lot of chords. The learning curve for learning marginal-to-mediocre guitar is low, but to go beyond that, it's quite steep.

I swore to myself I'd get all of my week's homework done this evening. It ain't happening. I can't work when I'm not under pressure.
trenchkamen: (Default)
My mother doesn't want me to become a serial killer.

She noticed Friday evening that I was reading Hannibal and rather enjoying it, and of course, yesterday I had to go out and rent the movie. There was a special on E! about serial killers that I stopped on while I was searching the kitchen TV for anything interesting. I was eating my lunch during the brains-dinner portion of the Hannibal movie and not missing a beat.

She keeps telling me that she's very concerned about me and keeps asking me to please not become a serial killer.

I guess it's good that she doesn't know I cosplay three characters with serial killer profiles.

It's time to print out those recommendation forms for college, finally. I need to narrow them down so I'm not slamming twenty recommendation forms down on each teacher's desk.
trenchkamen: (Default)
So, today is the beginning of my last week as a legal minor.

If I'm going to do something illegal, I'd better do it this week so it washes out.

I broke my G-string. It would make sense that it breaks when you're too rough on it, but apparently that's myth; they break spontaneously all the time. I just need to replace it before tomorrow so I can get an A on my test.
trenchkamen: (Default)
Today in guitar we finally played a song: "Brown-Eyed Girl". There is something so incredibly satisfying about strumming chords to a recognizable song and singing, even if there is a full second delay between switching chords and you keep screwing up the lyrics to the song. That one moment in the song where I can switch from G to Em without a hitch is so incredibly satisfying. Now I understand why the hardcore guitar kids can't stand to go anywhere without their six-strings; playing is a blast. I've been picking out "Music of the Night" and "Cruel Angel's Thesis" and "Sadame" and that one Celtic song, but playing chords is different. It's rich and loud and you get to strum.

There was a power-outage at the end of second hour. Too bad it didn't last. The physics room has the windows blacked out, so it was pitch-dark in there.

I’ve got homework and stuff to do now.

------------------------------------

Meme from [livejournal.com profile] finmefiant and [livejournal.com profile] ryutsuki.
If you happen to be working on some new writing project, fanfiction or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work (s).

The Writing Meme )
trenchkamen: (Default)
Wisdom from the AP American government textbook:

"Political candidates, like people, are not the products of a virgin birth."

How deep.

That's almost up there with the AP history textbook's report of President whoever-it-was striding forcefully into the Oval Office, ramrod-erect, and yes that was the exact wording used in the textbook. And who could forget the blushing bride of Texas waiting to consummate the marriage with the Union?

Not only are social studies textbooks incredibly pretentious, but I am becoming progressively more convinced that they are written by very lonely people who get off by indirectly talking dirty to high school students.

I wish my math textbook was this much fun, but, alas, Ella Vader (Darth Vader's daughter--no, I am not kidding) and her perfect-parabola spaceship just can't compete with President Ramrod-Erect.
trenchkamen: (Default)
So. English IV AP, vaguely listening to the teacher discuss point-of-view as a rhetorical device. This old illustration of the reliability of a first-person narrator comes up.

Prather: Have any of you had two friends who were dating get into a fight and, more or less, both tell you their versions of their stories?
Lauren: (muttering) Yes...
Prather: A boy and a girl--
Lauren: Never mind.

I feel sorry for Pat for having to listen to me mutter so much during that class.

I absolutely loathe calculus homework. The test is tomorrow, and I still need to finish the final assignment. My mind keeps wandering everywhere else. Can't say I blame it.

Suck it, Calculus Concepts and Applications.

Oh, Terry Pratchett's new book comes out today. I have not read Discworld in far too long. Lately I've been reading Tamora Pierce like the thirteen-year-old girl I am deep down inside, and I'm going to read Hannibal, because Thomas Harris is that awesome, Hannibal Lecter is that fun, Clarice Starling is that hot, and my fascination with the dark side of human nature goes too far. And I like a smart thrill. Supposedly this little volume is one of the best out there for that.
trenchkamen: (Default)
I have nothing to add to this.
trenchkamen: (Default)
The student council freaking played "Dragostea Din Tei" today at lunch. All of it. As in, nobody booed them enough to make them turn it off. That made my day, right there.

So my clumsiness has cost me my phone's LCD screen, which is just another strike on the What The Fuck Is Wrong With You, Lauren? record. When I was sneaking out of the Anime Club meeting I tripped over the "security officer" at the door and cracked my phone open--again--but this time, the screen was blank. This means no more text messaging until I get a new phone or miraculously fix it. Rage.

I wouldn't feel so bad about this if I had not just finished paying for a replacement retainer, and if there was not a (steadily growing larger) chance that I had been the one in the family to leave the fridge door open last week. I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me lately, but I keep making costly mistakes since my head is too freaking far up in the clouds for me to be able to see what is going on around me. This doesn't profit me. I have to straighten this out, now, before I do anything else fucktardish. And it's only lately; I've always been a bit spacy, but the past couple of months it has gone to extremes.

This profits me and nobody else none.

Regarding Anime Club: yeah, I went for the first time in two years, since I resigned as president my freshman year, and it was somewhat overwhelming. On top of Sam and his friend screaming "FINALLY! AFTER TWO YEARS!" and drawing attention to me quietly trying to sneak in, Toby was in there, and he steered me to a chair and shoved me in under a desk next to him as soon as I walked into the room. This is the kid who, last year as a little freshman, gave me an entire rundown of why wearing a necktie and a trenchcoat are proof of the fact that I 'fight the power'. He's a nice kid, but a little overbearing, and insists on singing renditions of "She is the coo~olest girl in the wooo~o~orld." every time he sees me. He claims to be working on a jazz version, god help me. Yeah, he's a bit delusional, but he means well. I just wish I was nearly as cool as he thinks I am.

I can play "Zankoku na Tenshi no Thesis" on acoustic guitar now. RAWK.
trenchkamen: (Default)
Today at lunch I was waiting in the sammich line, reading Gulliver's Travels and minding my own business, when the pre-pubescent boy in front of me started this conversation:

Boy 1: Hey, nice star. Are you Jewish? Oh, wait, that's not the Star of David thing; it's the Satanic symbol.
Lauren: Nope.
Boy 1: Are you Satanic?
Lauren: No. Are you a freshman?
Boy 1: Yeah. How'd you know?

There is a silence.

Boy 1: Are you a witch?

I said I was not a witch, and gave my usual two-sentence response about how the pentacle has been used as a symbol of balance for centuries before Wicca. It didn't do much.

Boy 1: Hey, can you do magic?
Lauren: Yes. I can shoot laser beams out of my eyes.
Boy 1: (holding up a pen) Can you take this from me magically?

The boy's friend turned around and snatched the pen from him, and then they started arguing about something that degenerating into them calling each other gay. The absolute best line to come out of this was:

Boy 1: You fucking faggot! Why don't you go fuck some men, you democrat!
Boy 2: Hey, shut up. Her (nodding at me) voice is deeper than yours is!

This made me happy.

Boy 2: Hey, I was thinking of getting a shirt that says "Vote for John Kerry. Sponsored by Al Qaeda".

They talk some more, etc. I try to read and pretend I'm not listening so they will continue.

Boy 2: (fake-whispering to me behind his hand) He's gay.
Boy 1: Hey, can you shoot lightning out of your hands like Darth Vader?
Lauren: Yes.
Boy 1: (noting my book) Hey, do the midgets in that have huge dicks?
Lauren: What?
Boy 1: The midgets. Do they have huge dicks?
Lauren: They're proportionate, I think.
Boy 1: WHAT?
Lauren: They're proportionate.

At this point, they lost interest in me in the general turmoil of the lunch line, and we soon reached the counter anyway.

Note: is anybody else annoyed beyond all reason by the term "frosh"? Something about calling freshmen "frosh" makes me want to kick the crap out of the student council. Just like all of the signs in the hallways last week saying things like "Saguaro is FUN!" and "Frosh!" and "Sophomores!"

I can't wait until high school is over.

Anarchy continues to reign in the New Orleans and Mississippi area. Prather mentioned some particularly sickening stories in the Arizona Republic regarding rape and murder. It sickens me. The hurricane's destruction is bad enough, but to take advantage of the anarchy in such a horrific manner... We can only do all we can, send aid, help refugees, and hope things are straightened out soon. I hope this disaster leads to tighter urban regulations in low-level seaboard areas. I never want this disaster to repeat itself if at all possible.
trenchkamen: (Default)
There is an "I Love Aaron Wester Club" at Saguaro.

I kid you not. We got our agenda books today, and that is listed as one of the official clubs. Somebody pointed it out today during calc, and it cracked me up. Is this some kind of a sick joke, or is there actually a club dedicated to Wester? And how the hell did that pass as an official club? For those of you who do not know, Aaron graduated last year, he was an alto sax and a thespian, and in a nutshell, he's incredibly attractive and metrosexual and had a scary fan/stalker-following. Christianne, who doesn't even attend Saguaro, stole one of his pictures off of a wall in the band room, and to this day has it on her door. This was in our freshman year, mind.

I'm obligated to go to the first meeting. I just have to see if this is serious or not. If I see any shrines with pictures and candles, I'm running. After I take pictures and laugh hysterically for a good period of time. And I want to see which teacher would be willing to sponsor. Any bets?

I've also come to the conclusion that my English teacher is pretty awesome, and that we're going to get along just fine this year. I have undying respect for any man who makes his honors class draw pictures of flowers with crayons.

I did all of my school shopping this afternoon. Ended up going to three stores for the oddities like the stopwatch, a Spanish book, and mouthwash, but at least it's done. I need to call the orthodontist about replacing my retainer, which has been AWOL for longer than it needs to be, and talk to my parents about the senior pictures when they get back--supposedly this evening. I'm still hoping for that good news from Mom. Last I checked, they still had no reply. I don't know if that's good or bad.

I can tune and play three notes on my guitar now. And I've got quite a bit of work to do. Later.

July 2012

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags