Well, it only took three days of school for Caitlin to fall back into her familiar yet highly annoying and stupid routine. I am. Procrastinating.
Ahhh, how I've missed you. And your innocent and so very naive reasonings. "But, it's like three days! Wait, now it's Saturday night! Oh my GOD! But no, wait if I get up at eight tomorrow everything will come up Milhouse for sure!" ....And, no.
Also: my love for Gilles Duceppe has taken on a frightening new twist. Well, not really, but I seem more obsessed over him by the minute.
I had a dream Katie cam over to my house, and she had just gotten back from John's wedding to Emily, and she (Katie) was being kinda mean about the whole thing, and then she had to leave. So I went with her, and for some reason there was no Echo, only this really low-to-the-ground blue and white pick-up truck. And it's seats weren't normal truck/car seats. Do you remember those booster seats your parents would ask for whenever the family went out to dinner? Those plastic boxes? Those were the seats, and I couldn't fit into one because of my bum girth.
So, what's hemophilia you ask? Well, it's the bane of my existence right now.
Fare thee well, must dash and poppeycock and so on.
That (and I was paraphrasing a little bit, but not the part about "carnal pleasure") was what a very ookey British narrator, er narrated, the other day on a show. About Asian black bears. Complete with footage of a female bear floating in a dirty river, spreading her legs in the direction of G's house. Enormous clitoris I must say.
So I might not get to go to college this year, which has well and truly pissed me off. HATE THE GOVERNMENT. NOTHING BUT HATE HATE HATEHA ETAHAHHHATTEEEEEE.
That said, I took a tour of the legislative the other day and was impressed. Pretty murals of lumber-jacks and James Douglas.
Since I pissed away the summer not working, or seeing my friends that much, I have much to make up for. In the next few days, I plan to attack Alexis, Katie, Courtney, Alice, and Kevin with a phone blitz, until some stasifaction arises on both sides that we have, indeed, not lost the "connections."
I get to look through boxes on Thursday and determine if the contents have any historical value. !YAY! (for realz).
Here's what I've discovered about myself. Conservatives and liberals. Right and left. Tight-wads and cocks suckers. I can embrace people's opinions, I can accept and try to understand differences, I can be all that being liberal supposedly is, which is to show the rest of the world that you're open-minded and not only tolerant, but accepting and "the bigger person". Load of shit. I can say one thing, they can say another, but simply I'm right and they're (conservatives) wrong. I am incredibly narrow-minded about narrow-minded people. So in crazy stupid logic, I must also doubt myself. Which I don't, because I'm right and they're wrong.
Fine. It's stupid to act this way and very childish. I had more to say but I really can't put it into words. And I think I keep hearing weird bug noises, so I want to go to bed.
So, two of my very favourite artists (Dylan and Sigur Ros) are playing concerts either here or in Vancouver in the next three months....and I can't go to EITHER. Bob is too expensive, but at the Save On Foods Centre and Sigur Ros is in Vancouver, but it's cheaper, but it's late on a school night so I would have to miss a day and the ferries are expensive and I would need a place to crash for the night, and I thought COURTENY! then oh yeah, Ireland stole her, and the same for Alexis and glabfdgsdfffffffffffff.
I also love Cathay Pacific Airlines for using "whilst" in their legal mumbo-jumbo.
I feel very pretentious (though isn't it also pretentious to acknowledge your pretentiousness?) (it is) (HAHA!), but I fell in love with some obscure-sounding bands, and some old 80's nuggets.
The Dears Architecture in Helsinki The Smiths (though I've loved Morrissey for a while) The Stars Blondie
I dreamed about Christ Martin the other day and we had created some big happy family, though the only part of the dream I remember was me staring into his massive eyes and watching his hair grow into an unsightly afro.
Wait, I just said Christ Martin.
Then I saw him doing an interview with an annoying personality and I thought, "Hey, lover." And then his real, and very pretty family showed up on the screen. And then I got a weird feeling that he was really my brother.
I'm glad Bush finally came to the conclusion that green house gases may actually exist, and that human activity creates the problem. Good job George. Now go run for Presidency of the race of walnuts, you douchebag.
It happened so quickly. I just thought she was a person, walking down the road. I was just getting the newspaper, and the new telephone book. She multiplied into three and attacked...
"Excuse me, ma'am."
And so began my conversion to Mormonism.
Not really, but it was dicey for a while. They were missionaries, all girls, two from Utah and one from Guatemala (yeah, random). And it's not like I actually considered to become a believer, in anything for that matter, but I didn't want to be rude and run away, and considering how well I run and that they were halfway down my driveway and in striking distance, I stayed and listened. They tried very hard to reassure me that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was very female friendly, and that there were many women's groups within the church, and that women could also teach (of course they didn't mention that women could only teach children and other women, and couldn't lead a service). Then they pried my phone number out of me, and gave me a copy of their Bible, which Sister Burnett inscribed with basically a "Glad your thinking of Mormons! Read this..and you'll become a believer". And then the one from Guatemala read a passage about faith, and they gave me a bunch of pictures of the Temple in Salt Lake City and a sheet with some commonly asked questions about Mormonism.
And then my mommy rescued me. But they're gonna call, I know it. I told them I had no life, and was home most days. We don't have caller ID or an answering machine. I could pretend to be my sister or cousin or something.
"No, Caitlin died", "Caitlin's in Venice", "Caitlin is butchering a pig".
I made one crucial (yes, ONLY ONE) mistake. I told them the truth, that I currently had no faith in any religion or god, but that I'm open to LEARNING about other faiths (that doesn't mean believing). I feel bad though, they gave away their Bible for nothing. I'll try to read it anyway I suppose.
There is something so completely retarded and jarring about seeing the shit happening in the Congo one minute and watching Kimora Lee Simmons orgasm over her $50, 000 handbags and gazillion fur closets. Bitch.
I figured it out. It only took about 2 years. I want to help people. I want to go to school, grad with a fabulous degree in nation-saving, go to the UN, shoot the appropriate people (and clean out their desks), cut down on their paper costs by halving the bureaucratic paperwork, and fix that shack of an organization and actually HAVE IT WORK TOWARDS COLLECTIVE SECURITY. Sovereignty is golly good and a cuppa tea, but really, what the fuck? We don't go in to war-torn nations unless they ask us? ASK US?!?!?! "Uh yeah, um...no. It's all good, no need to drop by or anything. Just ignore the thousands of bodies on the roadside. Thanks!". Complete bullshit; either governments abed/support or actually commit the atrocities, because if they really weren't there would be thousands upon thousands of UN troops in about 60 countries right about now. So...we're respecting nations right to kill their own citizens because sovereignty is too important a virtue to fool around with and diss. Because, as people I have talked to so put it: "If the U.N. had gone into Bosnia and stopped the genocide, what's to stop Turkey and Denmark from appealing to the UN to go into Northern Ireland and kick some ass?".
So if you go in one place, it's open season and soon everyone will be invading everyone else. Once again, utter bullshit. Basically it's saying it's a reasonable sacrifice to have genocides every couple of years (in third-world and developing nations of course) rather then send a clear message to the world that that kind of shit won't be tolerated and then hope that nations won't go crazy and start invading willy-nilly. Obviously, like ANYTHING else, guidelines would have to be established (sorry Turkey, you'll have to save the Protestants another day), and a unanimous agreement would have to be reached between not just the security council, but all member nations. It's not logical to think that countries would be willing to undertake the massive financial, political, and manpower needs to achieve invading nation after nation. And besides, genocide or massive loss of life (be it direct killing, starvation through famine, or something similar) would be the model; any other reasons for invasion would not be tolerated.
I have more ramblings, but not tonight. Too tired. In conclusion: UN, I'm coming for you. (If I can better my D in math of course)
I have stumbled across crack. The crack of T.V. 24. DVD. Season 1. I CAN'T STOP.
You watch one, and then three more and then it just sits there, baiting you to put one more in because being commercial-free is more useful then blood and MY GOD, twenty minutes of commercials in a one-hour-show, and plus, why not? You don't have to wait a week to watch one more, maybe just two minutes, so you do and then you glue yourself to your mother's broken chair and forget what a shower feels like and you eat so many stonewheat thins you want to throw-up, and the cookie dough really doesn't help, but it's also JUST there dammit! and then you realise you have absolutely no will power and you want to marry Kiefer and have millions of his babies even though five days ago you were still dead set on your original plan of a hysterectomy when you're 20. If finances permit of course.
On the plus side, I now believe in love. Marry me Kiefer! I make a mean peach-upside down cake, and can talk back like nobody's business!