Thursday, August 26, 2004

On second thought, I'm not too tired. Here's a succession of AIM messages I left this guy my friend wanted me to scare off today while he was away to irritate him.
darthkharl: HI *censored name of guy*!

*censored auto response*
d
arthkharl: guess what?

darthkharl: *censored name of friend* and i are too inadept at stalking to find out the sn of this guy we wanted to stalk, and her net is down anyway, so on her behalf (since we are upset we cannot figure out how to make bill realize he will never be rid of us and our anime/avril lavigne loving hordes), i must leave you many messages while i wait for my dialup to do something!

darthkharl: i mean, what kind of bozo hates avril lavigne that much?

darthkharl: i mean, she's more appealing to a freak of nature than anime, if you're male
darthkharl: (and *name of freak* is a freak of nature)

darthkharl: during the first lab, while he (and he doesn't have glasses as i do (but i might get contacts ... whaddya think?)) was wearing these huge disgusting goggles rather than the glasses, comes over and stuffs a test tube of sulfer up my nose and goes "WAFT IT!" whie trying to blow if at me

darthkharl: and then there was the time that our teacher was telling us where the author of the textbook (we wer kinda a cult ... the Sons of Haber-Schaim, that worshipped him) vacations, and he gave me this note that said "*censored name of teacher* is no longer allowed in Colorado due to the restraining order" and i nearly bust a gasket not laughting

darthkharl: he was weird

darthkharl: then he hugged *friend*, went to private scool, and we never saw him again

darthkharl: so we're ineffectively stalking his excrush

darthkharl: tyring to figure out how to bug him

darthkharl: cuz he probably woulnd't mind

darthkharl: so, lately, i have been watching sappy baseball movies with my dad and reading a tree grows in brooklyn (among other phenomenal chick books) cuz mother and sister and brother are at my aunt's beach house

darthkharl: leaving us here to eat taco bell for eternity

darthkharl: or at least till morning
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Sapfest
So ... Mother, Tea, and Likkle Bro are staying the night at my aunt's beach house. Daddy and I are here, watching sappy baseball movies. The Natural wasn't bad, but it makes me scared to ride trains with women ... :-P

I'm too tired for this ... don't let me forget to tape Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
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Wednesday, August 25, 2004

"Some things are meant to be." -elvis presley, "i can't help falling in love with you"
Wasn’t on yesterday because Daddy made us all watch A League of Their Own. I didn’t care for it, but whatever. I hated Kit, and if Dottie dropped the ball on purpose at the end, I hate her too (I wouldn’t give in like that.) Jimmy Dugan was cool though.

Money is nice. This is reflected in this week’s schedule.

Monday: library work, 2:45 – 6:00 pm

Tuesday: library work, 3:30 – 5:30 pm

Wednesday (today): farm work, 10:00 am – 6:00 pm (the library wanted me too)

Thursday: library work, 2:45 – 6:00 pm

Friday: bassoon lessons (which is work for me, but I wind up paying …)

Saturday: I, hater of small children, get to baby-sit for four hours.

Ooh … and with that Borders coupon, this could be beautiful! *sniffle*

I’m all set for the rest of my life! (Or, at least until I finally return to my beloved high school.) I have Moulin Rouge taped for Tuesday the 7th (the day before school begins), when I will need to watch something mind numbing while Little Bro is at school and the rents are at work (cuz Tea can probably watch a TV edited version if she wants to, which she doesn’t …), and I’m gonna tape either Bring It On (It’s supposed to be stupid-funny, right? Like, make fun of cheerleaders?) or Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in the next few days to supplement that one. That’ll be about 4 hours of tape, coupled with whatever anime I didn’t get to watch from Saturday … I’m so looking forward to it! I always make a party out of the last day of the summer.

Actually, only I would consider sitting at home alone with your sister (who has decided you have horrible taste in movies and so is on the other half of the house), watching movies and typing while eating lots of tortilla chips and salsa a party … parties normally include multiple people and/or snack foods.

All foods ought to be stir-fried. What cannot be stir-fried ought to be deep-fried.
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Monday, August 23, 2004

[regarding time capsules, a silly concept in my view] “I love capsules! Except when they’re filled with fever-fighting acetaminophen. Then I prefer chewables!” –brandon, ‘as told by ginger’
God love acetaminophen. It’s a beautiful thing when it comes to that headache induced by running about a poorly air-conditioned library trying to shelve books before the woman with the previous shift leaves, then finding out she was staying overtime anyway. Same goes for ibuprofen with regard to joint aches.

I’m all excited about the ducks. I’ll have to remember not to blow all my money on manga and scifi. Actually, since my birthday is coming up on the 31st, I may not have to use all my own money. And with school, Mother will fund some jeans shopping in the near future. I had these two pairs of Old Navy jeans that were really comfy and fit really well, but they’re getting all faded and runny, and my other jeans are kinda wearing thin. So I’m gonna need to do shopping. Luckily, cool person that I am, these jeans will last at least till the end of junior year, possibly through high school. I don’t abuse my clothing, and I’m not growing anymore.

I don’t even get why people need to get new clothes all the time, except for unexpected occasions (weddings, funerals, and the like, in seasons when you don’t have a dress for it already), when you abuse clothing (not a problem I have), or shirts, which are the easiest and cheapest way to change your look to match the styles. I buy shirts often enough, but not insanely. Really, what happens with me is I have a set of generic blue denim jeans that go with everything and don’t lend themselves to any particular style, and adjust my tops for the style I like at the moment.

Currently, that is described by my loverly friends as “scrubs.” Somehow, my attraction to solid t-shirts and huge sweatshirts comes off as a debilitating fashion disease. Even my tasteless friends insist I dress in “scrubs.” I have some nice clothes! I just don’t wear them in public! It’d be silly to reveal a decidedly feminine side in public school (and oddly enough, I do have one of those ...). You get more respect from jerks when you don’t pretend you’re anything but a geek if you fit the mold. If you pretend you’re more, they’ll give you a harder time. Anyway, my “scrubs” are more comfortable than most anything, except maybe shirts with wide/low necklines (Not obscenely wide/low. I hate feeling choked by my own clothing.).

I do go on insane shoe and sock shopping crazes though, because that is what I do. I only wear three pairs of shoes, actually (my sneakers, my brown shoes with the white stripes, and my sandals with the thick sneaker-esque soles), but you need black shoes for concerts (and black socks, since that’s a band director pet peeve), clogs for both autumn and spring dress-up events, flip-flops for summer dress-up events, hiking boots for hiking (duh), and slippers for sleepovers where you don’t want to know what the 2 year old brother was playing with on the floor, nor do you want to step directly on anything pointy he left there while doing it. See? It is justified.

Of course, concert dress is a pivotal part of any band kid’s wardrobe. So far, I’ve covered my repertoire of daily wear, but I also have khakis that are normal enough for school, nice enough for church, and decent enough for work. Those are crucial, since it’s tough to find nice khakis without pleats that can be worn in school without looking totally dressed up. But back to concert gear, since the school does not yet provide uniform outfits (they’re going to start that up this year), every female member has to own a floor length black skirt and a black top. In the rare event that pants are allowed, black socks are a must. And if you thought about getting off without black shoes/sandals, you’re nuts. But, this is only the competition, festival, and taking-the-band-out outfit. The rest of the time, you can usually get off with nice, bright springy clothing that covers below the knee (miniskirts area nono onstage) for the spring concert and seasonal clothing (that means black bottoms, red or dark-colored tops) for winter. And the good thing is, all this concert dress covers all your religious holiday and formal occasion clothing! It’s a great deal!

Seriously though, the only reason I have real formal clothing is to appease the band directors I’ve had over the years. But I don’t just wear “scrubs!” I have cute shirts! Really! *realizes she is wearing scruffy jeans, gross sneakers, and a plain red top she’s had for a few summers and accidentally bleached out parts of with a medicinal cream* I need to go shopping for decent clothes for school … conveniently enough, Mother’s favorite stores to take us to are near a Borders … *begins scheming about the purchase of several volumes*

Note to self: Go to bank. Cash check.

*There is a good reason I’m not plural today. I’m too dang tired and my head hurts too much. Though the royal we is actually programmed into me so well I can instantly switch personas in a moment (Seriously, we rock at that. You would never believe how easy it is after a year or so of it.), I don’t have the patience to capitalize on my own. MS Word capitalizes “I” for you when you don’t and “I” and “me” are sorter than “we” and “us.” Sort of. And by explaining this, I just exerted all the effort of just being my usual plural self. That was brilliant. See y’a’s!
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Sunday, August 22, 2004

Our power is gone … again! “It was like watching a train wreck being hit by lightning in the middle of a hurricane while it was going over a cliff – only worse.” –the brothers garcia
Last night, we woke up because the power went out again. We had a royal panic attack that it was still really early enough that Inuyasha or Wolf’s Rain was on (unlike everyone else, we go to bed at a reasonable hour and tape our anime), so we were fumbling around like mad, in the dark, trying to find our watch (which has indiglo). When we finally found it, we were so relived it was 4:00 am! Trigun was over! YAY! See, the ‘rents are okay with OCD resetting of the VCR anytime before 10:30 pm, but after is a nono. Actually, taping TVPG shows, especially ones that air after midnight is probably a nono, but we’re not gonna find out.

A Synopsis of the Ride Home from NY

Oneonta to Howe Caverns: Rainy, but fine

Howe Caverns to Mass Pike: Rainy, but fine

Mass Pike to within 5 miles of the house: Rainy and thunderstorm leftovers, but fine

Williams Street (within about 5 miles of home): Four policemen are milling about, and they tell us to detour as a tree has fallen

Arnold Street: Has a tree down, we are again detoured

South Street: Discovered a new down tree, detoured

Luke Street: Can’t take it because it is under construction yet again, detoured

Lake Street: Fine

Our Street: Sign: “Road Closed. Bay State Pipeline.”

Jencks Street, where we can loop around to the house: Construction crew dealing with down tree turns us around

Our Street: We took it anyway. Thank the Lord tornadoes aren’t normal.


You should really have seen the telephone poles and trees. It was nuts.

Souvenir of the Trip: a reproduction poster, titled “Phrenology Illustrated,” mapping out the different parts of your head as seen by phrenologists. Phrenology is a really funny concept to us, and we got a kick out of that.

Argh. We taped 10 Things I Hate About You on Tuesday, and when we popped it in today, we got to the part when that boy is in the guidance office at the beginning (about 2 minutes in, right after the opening credits and Julia Stiles drives in to school and tears down the prom poster), it started this high humming noise, and as it turns out, the tape is fried. Ihhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. We love that movie!


Daddy, dictating a press release for the farm cuz Mother was too tired: The farm is run by name of aunt*, her husband, *name of uncle*, his sister, *name of mother*, and a variety of lowlifes.

Mother: Don’t group *name of … us* with the lowlifes!

Seriously, the other workers there is this guy who camps in their backyard, this girl with some serious disorder of the responsibility organs who is so darned peppy from her meds, this chick who lives to make out with her boyfriend and cannot be trusted to touch vegetables or return from lunch, this guy who we don’t see what’s wrong with, other than a few of those weirdo genes from his brother, and there used to be a group of Asian guys who we don’t know anything about because they don’t speak English and got hired through an agency. But the current group? Yeah, lowlifes. They used to have the Asian guys and a few nice weirdos, but it's all downhill from there, we guess ...
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Duck Ruling Amended!
Now, since we have brought up that baby ducks are not born in the fall, if we can convert the dog house (since the dog is too much of a wimp to leave outside on the run and we have a lot of hunters out back lately) into a Duck Hut and build a Duck Yard from Agway supplies, we can get two ducks in spring! These people down the street sell ducklings for a dollar and chicks for free when they have them, so if we can convert the back of the yard and figure out when they have ducks (because Agway would probably only sell them in bulk), we can get not one duck, but two!
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Saturday, August 21, 2004

Forgot something ...
Mother was commenting on how so many people have chickens. So we said, jokingly, "I want a duck!"

So, Mother went along with us.

And then, we kept saying it. And the idea grew on us over the 2 hour period in which we said it.

So, Mother said, "If you build a duck house, you can get one for your birthday."

So, if we build a Duck Hut in 10 days, we can get a duck.

Just to prove we can, we're gonna build that Duck Hut. Ha!

Also, Little Bro got a guinea pig. We should have our own pet besides our fish. There's nothing to fish. You just turn on the light and chuck little flakes at them. (We can't get anything but Nuclear War Strength Fish to survive, so it is that easy.)
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We've lost all our power!
Um, obviously, since the computer is functioning well enough we can post, power's back on, but while we were still driving home from Cooperstown, NY, something akin to a small tornado came through town (and we're in NE ... odd) and knocked out power from 4 to about 8. We got back around 6, and Daddy had a complex about it ... no one else was too fazed, other than that we nearly missed taping YYH, IY, and WR. 1 1/2 hours is too close a call.

We are sooooo tired. Sitting on your duff in a car listening to oldies while your 'rents play "Guess That Tune" to your renderings of the songs on the CD player can do that to you. Or, it could be that Tea watched the Olympics till 11:30 every night because she's obsessed with Paul Hamm.

Yeah ... wasn't too crazy about the Fenimore Art Museum (too stuffy), the Farmer's Museum (Daddy was way into the Cardiff Giant, which is sad evidence of what's wrong with us and we like Old Sturbridge Village better), or the Baseball Hall of Fame (just not into it; we're a Red Sox fan because you need to be to attend a MA public school). But on the way home, to wait out the rain, Mother, Little Bro, and we went on a tour of Howe Caverns, and we highly recommend it if you're in the area. It was cool, but our guide couldn't steer the boat, which was scary. It was like Yellowstone NP meets a stone basement in a freezer. Don't go just for that, but if you're there, go.

We gave the kitty a piece of cheese, and she licked it! *giggle*

Lord, we're tired ...
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Tuesday, August 17, 2004

“I’ll be your friend and help you carry on, for it won’t be long till you’re gonna need somebody to lean on.” –‘lean on me’
… Oh Kharl. Tea has been entertaining herself with Cable 8, our local cable access channel. The senior home and historical society events are generally what’s on it, maybe a high school concert if you get lucky. Today it was a talent show or something.

Well, let’s just say our town is not very talented. The seniors look about to keel over (and they ought not sing “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” while wearing slinky dresses designed for young women of the 30s), our youth are seriously lacking in the synchronized dancing department, and the custodial staff consists of middle-aged men, who ought not be dancing to songs with the word “sexy” in them.

Can’t she just watch the Olympics?

Been on the phone. Our friend was having an early life crisis cuz her mother was a little late coming home from having a cast removed. (The crisis consisted of “What if something happened?” over and over and whining.) We told her that doctors get swamped and things take longer than expected, she might have gone on an errand and forgotten to call, all that stuff, and she kept having her crisis. It was funny to us, but since she was in crisis, the way she was that time she was convinced someone was breaking into her house, she wasn’t amused. Then her mom came home with groceries and no cast. Did we call it or what? And she thought our laughter was unsupportive.

She’s such a drama queen. But she’s not really a great actress or writer, but she thinks she is. And we can’t tell her that, or she’ll, and we quote, “go into depression.” If you are aware you are going into depression before it happens, you are not depressed. You just want attention. And if we told her that, she’d tell us we’re unsupportive. Considering we pretend to love her stories and pay to see her high school level plays while she refuses to pay to see concerts done by our band that has won several awards on a national level when we tell her about them and she has access to our stories and poems but doesn’t read or give feedback, she cannot tell us we are unsupportive. We almost want to join drama or tech to occupy some time, but if we did, she’d get mad because we joined her club. She can only whine about how much she’s sacrificing and the costs if she’s the only one in it. And even so, we have a job, so the cost doesn’t fall on dear Mother, so there’s no chance of being told “I’m not paying that much for your club” since if we really want to, they’ll let us pay our own way in. The fact that our parents pay more for our bassoon lessons every month than a year of drama club does in all is irrelevant. And she’d make a big show of being supportive of our success or lack thereof in either group.

It is too hard to be supportive to her. Somehow, with this friend, being supportive compromises both honesty and our own desires. Good thing our closest friendships have two-way support.

We’re so glad she quit band. Not that it doesn’t mean we hear about how hard band is and how much we must be struggling to keep up. Not that she knows anything about it, since she doesn’t come to concerts and if we told her about the band experience, she’d tell us she doesn’t care. We told her we don’t care about the details of her drama rehearsals. She told us we were unsupportive.

Hang support. Next year, if band doesn’t interfere, we’re gonna join something.

Will be in NY till Saturday. *mutters* Joy fills our heart …
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Monday, August 16, 2004

“Excuse me again for these things I do.” –elton john, ‘your song’
Done with funerals at last!

We need to establish this one thing while we’re on our psycho anti-male vocalist thing. Frank Sinatra is the big exception. He is wonderful! We adore him! On account of “Your Song,” Elton John is not completely worthless, just very close to being so.

The psycho anti-male vocalist thing is less harsh on lyricists, not that we particularly adore male lyricists. It has nothing to do with male musicians at all.

Random issue of major proportions: Bob Dylan. Ugh, that man is the epitome of why we hate male vocalists. But he is one the most amazing lyricists out there. However, his harmonica playing days need to end.

Not that Carole King is male, but she rocks!

Alas, but our chronic wrist pain has returned! *whines at Nurse Practitioner Connie*

New paper up.
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