Tuesday, October 3, 2006

Well, my dentist couldn't see me yesterday. Too busy. So today I go at nine o'clock in the AM. Then, I am going to apply for a job at Schuler's bookstore. From there, I am going to go to college, and on the way home from there I am going to apply at the movie theatre to work at the consessions stand. Sounds fun to me.
I tried to get some Evanescence tickets, but they were all sold out. Sucks.

Quote of the day: "I'm not. I'm helping me." - Erika from "Underworld" speaking of not helping Selene

Pics:



Ringwraiths, or Nazgul

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Monday, October 2, 2006

Tooth
Guess what has happened to me? I was smoking a cigar yesterday. The cigars I like have a wooden tip. Apparently I bit down too hard, because the tip of one of my front teeth came off. Horror. Pure horror. Pure, unbound horror. When I was a child, I hit that tooth with a snow shovel, thus losing the original cap. The one that fell off yesterday was the false cap, which up until now looked perfect and showed no signs of falling off. So now I have to go tommorrow and get a new one.
*sigh*
Anyway, I'd like to apoligize for hardly visiting anyone. I've just been so busy with classes. I need a vacation. My life kinda sucks right about now.

Camp pic:

Theo, with lunch in her mouth

Other pics:

Wolverine

Polaris

Spider-Man

Gwen from "King Arthur"
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Saturday, September 30, 2006

MSU
Today I'm going to a Michigan State football game with my father and my cousin, Zack. Hopefully it will be a good game.
After that, I have to kick my ass into gear and read 20 or so pages of Psychology. Then, probably tommorrow, I have to write a report on the movie "As Good as it Gets", also for psychology. And I have reading to do for Children's Lit and World Lit.
Also, it seems that some of you (like Rabinminpin) are interested in what is happening with Ashley. For one, I haven't seen her for a few days...I'll see her on Monday (if she comes to class) and Wednesday.

Camp pic:


Other pics:

Gwen from "King Arthur"

Marv

Spider-Man


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Friday, September 29, 2006

A&P
Here's the story "The A&P". Read it if you like. If not, feel free to simply comment on the pics or whatnot.

A&P
by john updike
In walks these three girls in nothing but bathing suits. I'm in the third check-out slot, with my back to the door, so I don't see them until they're over by the bread. The one that caught my eye first was the one in the plaid green two-piece. She was a chunky kid, with a good tan and a sweet broad soft-looking can with those two crescents of white just under it, where the sun never seems to hit, at the top of the backs of her legs. I stood there with my hand on a box of HiHo crackers trying to remember if I rang it up or not. I ring it up again and the customer starts giving me hell. She's one of these cash-register-watchers, a witch about fifty with rouge on her cheekbones and no eyebrows, and I knowit made her day to trip me up. She'd been watching cash registers forty years and probably never seen a mistake before.
By the time I got her feathers smoothed and her goodies into a bag -- she gives me alittle snort in passing, if she'd been born at the right time they would have burned her over in Salem -- by the time I get her on her way the girls had circled around the bread and were coming back, without a pushcart, back my way along the counters, in the aisle between the check-outs and the Special bins. They didn't even have shoes on. There was this chunky one, with the two-piece -- it was bright green and the seams on the bra were still sharp and her belly was still pretty pale so I guessed she just got it (the suit) -- there was this one, with one of those chubby berry-faces, the lips all bunched together under her nose, this one, and a tall one, with black hair that hadn't quite frizzed right, and one of these sunburns right across under the eyes, and a chin that was too long -- you know, the kind of girl other girls think is very "striking" and "attractive" but never quite makes it, as they very well know, which is why they like her so much -- and then the third one, that wasn't quite so tall. She was the queen. She kind of led them, the other two peeking around and making their shoulders round. She didn't look around, not this queen, she just walked straight on slowly, on these long white prima donna legs. She came down a little hard on her heels, as if she didn't walk in her bare feet that much, putting down her heels and then letting the weight move along to her toes as if she was testing the floor with every step, putting a little deliberate extra action into it. You never know for sure how girls' minds work (do you really think it's a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glassjar?) but you got the idea she had talked the other two into coming in here with her, and now she was showing them how to do it, walk slow and hold yourself straight.
She had on a kind of dirty-pink - - beige maybe, I don't know -- bathing suit with a little nubble all over it and, what got me, the straps were down. They were off her shoulders looped loose around the cool tops of her arms, and I guess as a result the suit had slipped a little on her, so all around the top of the cloth there was this shining rim. If it hadn't been there you wouldn't have known there could have been anything whiter than those shoulders. With the straps pushed off, there was nothing between the top of the suit and the top of her head except just her, this clean bare plane of the top of her chest down from the shoulder bones like a dented sheet of metal tilted in the light. I mean, it was more than pretty.
She had sort of oaky hair that the sun and salt had bleached, done up in a bun that was unravelling, and a kind of prim face. Walking into the A & P with your straps down, I suppose it's the only kind of face you can have. She held her head so high her neck, coming up out o fthose white shoulders, looked kind of stretched, but I didn't mind. The longer her neck was, the more of her there was.
She must have felt in the corner of her eye me and over my shoulder Stokesie in the second slot watching, but she didn't tip. Not this queen. She kept her eyes moving across the racks, and stopped, and turned so slow it made my stomach rub the inside of my apron, and buzzed to the other two, who kind of huddled against her for relief, and they all three of them went up the cat-and-dog-food-breakfast-cereal-macaroni-ri ce-raisins-seasonings-spreads-spaghetti-soft drinks- rackers-and- cookies aisle. From the third slot I look straight up this aisle to the meat counter, and I watched them all the way. The fat one with the tan sort of fumbled with the cookies, but on second thought she put the packages back. The sheep pushing their carts down the aisle -- the girls were walking against the usual traffic (not that we have one-way signs or anything) -- were pretty hilarious. You could see them, when Queenie's white shoulders dawned on them, kind of jerk, or hop, or hiccup, but their eyes snapped back to their own baskets and on they pushed. I bet you could set off dynamite in an A & P and the people would by and large keep reaching and checking oatmeal off their lists and muttering "Let me see, there was a third thing, began with A, asparagus, no, ah, yes, applesauce!" or whatever it is they do mutter. But there was no doubt, this jiggled them. A few house-slaves in pin curlers even looked around after pushing their carts past to make sure what they had seen was correct.
You know, it's one thing to have a girl in a bathing suit down on the beach, where what with the glare nobody can look at each other much anyway, and another thing in the cool of the A & P, under the fluorescent lights, against all those stacked packages, with her feet paddling along naked over our checkerboard green-and-cream rubber-tile floor.
"Oh Daddy," Stokesie said beside me. "I feel so faint."
"Darling," I said. "Hold me tight." Stokesie's married, with two babies chalked up on his fuselage already, but as far as I can tell that's the only difference. He's twenty-two, and I was nineteen this April.
"Is it done?" he asks, the responsible married man finding his voice. I forgot to say he thinks he's going to be manager some sunny day, maybe in 1990 when it's called the Great Alexandrov and Petrooshki Tea Company or something.
What he meant was, our town is five miles from a beach, with a big summer colony out on the Point, but we're right in the middle of town, and the women generally put on a shirt or shorts or something before they get out of the car into the street. And anyway these are usually women with six children and varicose veins mapping their legs and nobody, including them, could care less. As I say, we're right in the middle of town, and if you stand at our front doors you can see two banks and the Congregational church and the newspaper store and three real-estate offices and about twenty-seven old free-loaders tearing up Central Street because the sewer broke again. It's not as if we're on the Cape; we're north of Boston and there's people in this town haven't seen the ocean for twenty years.
The girls had reached the meat counter and were asking McMahon something. He pointed, they pointed, and they shuffled out of sight behind a pyramid of Diet Delight peaches. All that was left for us to see was old McMahon patting his mouth and looking after them sizing up their joints. Poor kids, I began to feel sorry for them, they couldn't help it.
Now here comes the sad part of the story, at:least my family says it's sad but I don't think it's sad myself. The store's pretty empty, it being Thursday afternoon, so there was nothing much to do except lean on the register and wait for the girls to show up again. The whole store was like a pinball machine and I didn't know which tunnel they'd come out of. After a while they come around out of the far aisle, around the light bulbs, records at discount of the Caribbean Six or Tony Martin Sings or some such gunk you wonder they waste the wax on, sixpacks of candy bars, and plastic toys done up in cellophane that faIl apart when a kid looks at them anyway. Around they come, Queenie still leading the way, and holding a little gray jar in her hand. Slots Three through Seven are unmanned and I could see her wondering between Stokes and me, but Stokesie with his usual luck draws an old party in baggy gray pants who stumbles up with four giant cans of pineapple juice (what do these bums do with all that pineapple juice' I've often asked myself) so the girls come to me. Queenie puts down the jar and I take it into my fingers icy cold. Kingfish Fancy Herring Snacks in Pure Sour Cream: 49¢. Now her hands are empty, not a ring or a bracelet, bare as God made them, and I wonder where the money's coming from. Still with that prim look she lifts a folded dollar bill out of the hollow at the center of her nubbled pink top. The jar went heavy in my hand. Really, I thought that was so cute.
Then everybody's luck begins to run out. Lengel comes in from haggling with a truck full of cabbages on the lot and is about to scuttle into that door marked MANAGER behind which he hides all day when the girls touch his eye. Lengel's pretty dreary, teaches Sunday school and the rest, but he doesn't miss that much. He comes over and says, "Girls, this isn't the beach."
Queenie blushes, though maybe it's just a brush of sunburn I was noticing for the first time, now that she was so close. "My mother asked me to pick up a jar of herring snacks." Her voice kind of startled me, the way voices do when you see the people first, coming out so flat and dumb yet kind of tony, too, the way it ticked over "pick up" and "snacks." All of a sudden I slid right down her voice into her living room. Her father and the other men were standing around in ice-cream coats and bow ties and the women were in sandals picking up herring snacks on toothpicks off a big plate and they were all holding drinks the color of water with olives and sprigs of mint in them. When my parents have somebody over they get lemonade and if it's a real racy affair Schlitz in tall glasses with "They'll Do It Every Time" cartoons stencilled on.
"That's all right," Lengel said. "But this isn't the beach." His repeating this struck me as funny, as if it hadjust occurred to him, and he had been thinking all these years the A & P was a great big dune and he was the head lifeguard. He didn't like my smiling -- -as I say he doesn't miss much -- but he concentrates on giving the girls that sad Sunday- school-superintendent stare.
Queenie's blush is no sunburn now, and the plump one in plaid, that I liked better from the back -- a really sweet can -- pipes up, "We weren't doing any shopping. We just came in for the one thing."
"That makes no difference," Lengel tells her, and I could see from the way his eyes went that he hadn't noticed she was wearing a two-piece before. "We want you decently dressed when you come in here."
"We are decent," Queenie says suddenly, her lower lip pushing, getting sore now that she remembers her place, a place from which the crowd that runs the A & P must look pretty crummy. Fancy Herring Snacks flashed in her very blue eyes.
"Girls, I don't want to argue with you. After this come in here with your shoulders covered. It's our policy." He turns his back. That's policy for you. Policy is what the kingpins want. What the others want is juvenile delinquency.
All this while, the customers had been showing up with their carts but, you know, sheep, seeing a scene, they had all bunched up on Stokesie, who shook open a paper bag as gently as peeling a peach, not wanting to miss a word. I could feel in the silence everybody getting nervous, most of all Lengel, who asks me, "Sammy, have you rung up this purchase?"
I thought and said "No" but it wasn't about that I was thinking. I go through the punches, 4, 9, GROC, TOT -- it's more complicated than you think, and after you do it often enough, it begins to make a lttle song, that you hear words to, in my case "Hello (bing) there, you (gung) hap-py pee-pul (splat)"-the splat being the drawer flying out. I uncrease the bill, tenderly as you may imagine, it just having come from between the two smoothest scoops of vanilla I had ever known were there, and pass a half and a penny into her narrow pink palm, and nestle the herrings in a bag and twist its neck and hand it over, all the time thinking.
The girls, and who'd blame them, are in a hurry to get out, so I say "I quit" to Lengel quick enough for them to hear, hoping they'll stop and watch me, their unsuspected hero. They keep right on going, into the electric eye; the door flies open and they flicker across the lot to their car, Queenie and Plaid and Big Tall Goony-Goony (not that as raw material she was so bad), leaving me with Lengel and a kink in his eyebrow.
"Did you say something, Sammy?"
"I said I quit."
"I thought you did."
"You didn't have to embarrass them."
"It was they who were embarrassing us."
I started to say something that came out "Fiddle-de-doo." It's a saying of my grand- mother's, and I know she would have been pleased.
"I don't think you know what you're saying," Lengel said.
"I know you don't," I said. "But I do." I pull the bow at the back of my apron and start shrugging it off my shoulders. A couple customers that had been heading for my slot begin to knock against each other, like scared pigs in a chute.
Lengel sighs and begins to look very patient and old and gray. He's been a friend of my parents for years. "Sammy, you don't want to do this to your Mom and Dad," he tells me. It's true, I don't. But it seems to me that once you begin a gesture it's fatal not to go through with it. I fold the apron, "Sammy" stitched in red on the pocket, and put it on the counter, and drop the bow tie on top of it. The bow tie is theirs, if you've ever wondered. "You'll feel this for the rest of your life," Lengel says, and I know that's true, too, but remembering how he made that pretty girl blush makes me so scrunchy inside I punch the No Sale tab and the machine whirs "pee-pul" and the drawer splats out. One advantage to this scene taking place in summer, I can follow this up with a clean exit, there's no fumbling around getting your coat and galoshes, I just saunter into the electric eye in my white shirt that my mother ironed the night before, and the door heaves itself open, and outside the sunshine is skating around on the asphalt.
I look around for my girls, but they're gone, of course. There wasn't anybody but some young married screaming with her children about some candy they didn't get by the door of a powder-blue Falcon station wagon. Looking back in the big windows, over the bags of peat moss and aluminum lawn furniture stacked on the pavement, I could see Lengel in my place in the slot, checking the sheep through. His face was dark gray and his back stiff, as if he'djust had an injection of iron, and my stomach kind of fell as I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter.

Camp pic:


Pics:




Quiz:

You scored as Oreius. Peter Pevensie 93% Oreius 93% Lucy Pevensie 87% Aslan 80% Mrs. Beaver 70% Mr. Beaver 67% Edmund Pevensie 63% Mr. Tumnus 60% Susan Pevensie 53% The White Witch 47% Ginarrbrik 43% Which Chronicles of Narnia character are you most like? created with QuizFarm.com

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Thursday, September 28, 2006

Love
Well, I just got back from work. I quit. I just realized that this wasn't what I needed in my stage of life. I was working at a small grocery store, called "Vz's Market". So I quit. I think I'm going to try and get a job at the Sun theatre or Schuler's bookstore. Maybe both. As it is, I still have my part-time job at the YMCA. But that won't pay the bills for long.
I want a job with a lot of females. I love women, and I loved working with all young women over the summer at camp. Both the Sun and Schuler's have a high % of women that are around my age.
But I will admit I have it BAD for Ashley at school. Dear God, I've never felt like this about anyone. The sight of her makes my fingers go numb with ecstasy. She's so smart (which really does it for me) and is so GODDAMN beautiful! She looks so soft, so smooth...I feel like I'm fainting. I've had it bad for girls before, but nothing like this. Her eyes, her hair, her lips, her neck, her shoulders, her Glorious breasts...her middle, her hips, her legs, and she wears the most beautiful shoes...I should be a poet. She's so wonderful...it must have hurt when she fell from the Heavens. lol I can almost see wings apon her smooth back.
And the most exciting part about it is she isn't a kind of beauty I've ever seen before. She's not the "classic" hot, not the kind people usually think of. She's unique, and that makes her all the more desirable. Lord, I want nothing more than to have her close to me.

There's a story I like, called "The A&P". Anyone read it? It's a short story about a grocery store. I relate to it quite a bit. If you guys and gals want, I'll post it for you all to read. It's only a few pages long.

Quote of the day: "Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be." ~Anton Chekhov

Camp pic:


Pics:


Wolverine

Godzilla

Young Godzilla

Puddle of Mud - Blurry
Advent Children

Comments (6) | Permalink

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Today I have an in class essay...wish me luck.
I think I might stop by Suncoast after class and buy the Godzilla the Series DVD. I loved that show when I was a kid. I put the opening theme at the bottle of this post.
Well, I have to leave soon, and I have some homework to do before then, so goodbye.

Pics:


Ann and King Kong


Juggernaut


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Monday, September 25, 2006

School, Work, and GODZILLA
I just got back from a hard day of classes. And I have come to the realization that I cannot succeed in school and work as much as I do. I'll have to tell my boss I just can't seem to fit in my homework (or my sanity) with this workload. It sucks, because I want/need the money, but it's my only option.
I founded a new club late last night. The Godzilla Fan Club. If you're a fan of any version of Godzilla, feel free to put the banner (above) on your site.

Quote of the day: "I think we need bigger guns." - O'neil from "Godzilla 1998"

Camp pic:


Other Pics:

Venom vs Spider-Man




Poll:


Video:

What Makes You Sexy? by eva71
Name/NickName
Gender
Sexy Body Part Is	Your Lips
Special Talents Are	Stalking Your Prey

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Sunday, September 24, 2006

Bleach, Hellsing, and Godzilla
I've been reading alot of Bleach lately. I swear, that really is the best manga in existence. Hellsing's awesome too. Just bought vol. 3 of that.
When I was a kid, I was crazy obsessed with Godzilla. So, the other day, I was in Suncoast and was the 1998 Godzilla for really cheap. I lve that movie so much. Godzilla really is freakin' awesome. Watching the movie made me think of the TV show, which I loved too. Too bad it was cancelled.

Quote of the day: "Button it! I don't want any crap from the one who needs rescuing! Just go find a nice corner where you can tremble and say stuff like, 'Save Me'!" - Ichigo Kurosaki from "Bleach" speaking to Rukia Kuchiki

Camp pic:

Cool kids

Other Pics:

Roy Mustang

Winry, Al, and Ed

Wendy


Poll:
I've asked before who had the cooler sword of these three, now...


Video:
Hellsing

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion |||||||||| 33% Stability |||||||||| 36% Orderliness |||||||||||||||||| 80% Accommodation |||||||||||||||| 70% Interdependence |||||||||||||| 56% Intellectual |||||||||||||||||| 76% Mystical |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Artistic |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Religious |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Hedonism |||||||||||| 50% Materialism |||||||||||| 43% Narcissism |||||||||||||||| 63% Adventurousness |||||||||| 36% Work ethic |||||||||||||||| 70% Self absorbed |||||| 30% Conflict seeking |||||||||||||| 56% Need to dominate |||| 16% Romantic |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Avoidant || 10% Anti-authority |||||||||||||||| 70% Wealth |||||| 30% Dependency |||||| 23% Change averse |||||| 30% Cautiousness |||||||||||||||||| 76% Individuality |||||||||||||||||| 76% Sexuality |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Peter pan complex || 10% Physical security |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Physical Fitness |||||||||||||||| 64% Histrionic || 10% Paranoia |||||||||||||||| 70% Vanity |||||||||||| 43% Hypersensitivity |||||||||||| 43% Female cliche |||||||||||| 43%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

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Thursday, September 21, 2006

Lit Class, GitS, Arm, Autumn
Well, today I have Lit class....which, surprisingly, is my least favorite. We read the weirdest and most boring stuff. And the Prof sucks...she's so bland and actually quite cruel...she makes us all feel like we're idiots...but it's only two hours, so it's not so bad.
I just watched a few episodes of Ghost in the Shell...friggin' awesome anime, that. Motoko kicks serious ass. And Batou is the man. Can't get anymore manly than Batou. lol
I've been stretching my sore arm, and I think I'm healing it. It doesn't hurt as bad as it did, and I can move it better. Must have been a strained muscle. Damn weights. ):
It's turning into autumn here...leaves are blowing around, trees are changing color, the wind is crisp...ah, my favorite season is upon us. Makes me feel like pulling out my shotgun and taking down a beast. *licks lips* Carnage rocks. *evil smile* When I hunt, I feel as if I am entering a duel with nature...each year, we see who is superior. Thus far, I have won once out of three. I've only killed one deer. Nature is in the lead. I intend to change that. *claws grow from fingertips* Muahaha. I will prove that man is superior. *pounds on chest*

Quote of the day:
Joel: "What gives you the right to be a murderer of animals for your own pleasure?"
Maggie: "My hunting license."
From "Northern Exposure"

Camp pic:

Lost and Unfound

Other Pics:

Alucard and Integra

Anderson

Integra

Hartigan

Poll:

Video:
The Hard Goodbye
Song: In the Air Tonight

Comments (4) | Permalink

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Boyfriend Needs to Meet a Horrible Death
I have a broken arm or a pulled muscle. Probably a broken arm. I have it wrapped in ice right now. COLD. VERRRYYY COLD.
Oh, and to make my day even better *rolls eyes*, I found out that Ashley (the girl I like) has a boyfriend. *looks at knife, considers suicide* Nah. lol
I am hell-bent on winning this wonderful woman's affections. All I have to do is kill ber boyfriend with a sledgehammer, burn the body, and run the ashes through a meatgrinder. Muahaha.

Camp pic:

Kickball baby!

Other Pics:

Integral and Alucard



Alucard. Really. No joke.

Autumn Poll:


Autumn puzzle:

Autumn video:

Not sure why this makes me think of fall...
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