Today was a good day.

Even though I was in a foul mood for all of it.

Why am I not legally as old as I feel?

Met him and Mr. 7-7-7 at Steak-N-Shake tonight after work. Halfway there before I realized a few things:
1) If Fam had any idea where I was, she'd flip,
2) If the cop behind me knew how old I was, I'd be screwed.
3) Screw them both, I want french fries.
4) The next person who uses the phrase "freedom fries" around me will be wearing his legs as a turban.
5) That is a nasty mental image.
6) Hey look, it's Stealthy Loser Boy!
7) I want to punch him.

Our waiter gave us our stuff free, too. I am getting good at this not being charged thing.

I want to be 18 so I can go get my tongue pierced and buy a real set of handcuffs for my car.

You know its going to be one of those days when you're in the middle of a great dream, unconsciously revelling in the fact that you actually got the recommended hours of sleep that night...and the phone rings. The moment you hear it you are awake, and the moment they tell you who's on the phone you remember why you were trying to stay asleep in the first place. And then all the memories from the night before and all the dreads of today come swooping in on you and you don't even get to enjoy the fact that you feel rested and nicely lazy...
In short...you were awakened by the Problematic Stress Source of the Day. And it doesn't really give a damn, does it? Oh no, of course not. Wake up, bitch, you THRIIIIVE on stress.

ARGH. And my wok won't come clean. I have resorted to oven cleaner. I swear I'll rinse and scrub the hell out of it afterwards. (Yesssssss, come eat at my house!)

What happens when Biker and I study for three hours:

1) "relieviate"= a cross between relieve and alleviate. Now stands for needing to use the bathroom. ("I desperately need to relieviate.")
2) "Away with the Breeze"= synonym for Gone with the Wind. Now can be used to mean gone/around. (In context: "Where were you?" "oh, you know, away with the breeze.")
3) "Tap of Bad"= the movie Touch of Evil. Now can be a threat: ("Are you prepared to face the Tap of Bad?!!")

Biker's favorite is "tap of bad". Tomorrow I'm making these into fake dictionary definitions and re-publishing them.

::EDIT::
Why do none of my clocks say the same time in this house? Good Lord, I used to be the kind of person that had them all sycnchronized to within a second of each other...hmph.

Well, it does have it's up-sides. When I want to be out the door early I go by the one in my room and the one in the computer room. When I'm running late and I want to feel better about myself I use the security timer and the microwave clock. Then there's car-time...

Actually, maybe I do want to re-sync them all. What I just said was WAY more complicated than necessary.

Anglo-Saxon Riddle-Poem of My Own Devising #1

(and by "#1" I mean 1of1. Hopefully there will be no more.)

I am the gentle guide, the other half of a married man.
He is the angry attacker of living things.
Eternally enraged at everything, he longingly lashes out,
And is eager to eat as he revels in the hurt is rage has wrought.
I calm him; I counter him by opposite-force.
My ready restraints still his bloodlusting berserker nature.
With motherly, metallic skin I cool his cut-mouthed wrath.
My ornate inscriptions insist to cover and conceal his intent.
We are one as the day departs; as the same body, we rest.
_________________________________________________
A GUIDE TO ANGLO RIDDLES:
*Spoken from the point of view of an object.
*Poetry- structure given by alliteration and strategic pauses.
*Normally people in poem are not actually people.
*The answer to this one is "sword and scabbard".
*Only one person out of 11 has guessed right.
*Two of the smarter ones suggested "clouds" or "wedding ring". whoa.
*The next person who tells me it is a helmet will die violently.

Keep in mind that older posts go on bottom.

Good lord, where to begin?

We all went out to dinner, after all, and it was decently fun. I had Japanese food for the first time (Chicken Curry and Sumi Salad....mmmm). Then I talked them into taking me to Oberweis to get ice cream...then it was off to Circuit City...

WHERE I FOUND THE PERFECT CAR STEREO!!!
Yes siree...capable of MP3 playback...so I can just pop in a CD, hit shuffle, and have a few hundred songs just play along...WHich means I won't get bored with my music as quickly! Also, it has all the controls I want equalization-wise... and a detachable face plate...and... ::sigh:: I'm in love. So next weekend I'm going to get it put in.

Unc also bought me three CDs, so now I have Blue Album, White Stripes and Dido (of all things...I'm thinking good study music. Good tea music.) After all, No Angel is the theme song of every morning of my life, karmically speaking.

I have all my homework done. I am so freaking proud of myself.

This has been a fantastic day, down to the way the sun slanted as I was driving home and the green-ness of the trees!!

I even wrote a poem today.... If you can call that "Drunken Ode to Farangesi By the Incredible Wino Geve" thing a poem. Arislan, anyone? ﾂｶ 10:52 PM
And the prize for oddest comment ever thrown at me by a webpage goes to: Your hands do the work of 10,000 highly trained lesbian jumping beans. ﾂｶ 4:19 PM
HM! Today is one of those days that is just determined to be fantastic no matter what I do. So, I invited Fam out to dinner. We shall see how that goes. Oh, and I'm going to paint my toenails. Silver. To go with my toe ring. Superficiality? nooooo...

Farangesi...
Want you be my laday!
Will you have mah babay!
Oh faran-Farangaysay!
Lady Farangesi...
You is a little crazay...
I drunk but please don hay meh..
Oh crazy Faran-Laday!

HEE.
___________________________________________
Good Morning!!

Nope, I still hate yesterday's poem.

That link I posted last night was meant to have a grammatical error, by the way....which is why I have not edited it out. Just like every other grammatical error I have ever made. They are all MEANT to be where they are...I supply them with a hidden meaning that most people cannot understand!

Including me, damnit.

Look! Free MP3's!!

go here. ------>quelnt.iuma.com ﾂｶ 11:11 PM

This poem I wrote for a personal essay:

Snapshots
I.
Drip drip.
Drip drip.
My eyes slide open to darkness and rain,
and I am the tired, lazy rolls of thunder.
Two more drips-staccato,
before my alarm awakens
and squawks in discord to the storm.

II.
My tires on asphalt (fash-fash, splash!).
It窶冱 too early to be driving- but I am.
Up with the sun, already at work,
turning mulch and sand while others sugar coffee.
Rain collects on my windshield in the parking lot.
The drops dampen my skin and beg me to dance.

III.
I fell in love with it before it knew I existed.
Sixteen, a child still,
but one who loved the plants and animals,
and felt something calming in the Bird House air.
My fellow keepers feel it, I know;
I see it when they move and walk.
I watch them, I learn and dream
-and the birds begin to trust me.

IV.
The Bird Garden in the rain smells like love.
My soul is full for the simple reason
that the ground is warm and smells damp.
The fiery Satyr bird preens busily,
working the droplets into his red-gold plumage.
I fill his bowl and leave him be.

V.
The sun comes out and ricochets off water (ting-ting!).
I let the road fly by and enjoy the summer sun.
Soon it will be fall- time for college,
But for now I sweat and work in the heat.
I will miss this when I go back North.
My driveway welcomes my car back home;
I am received by my cat.



VI.
Night, and crickets (cree! cree!).
I eat my self-cooked dinner, flex achy feet,
stretch my neck, and take a sip of tea.
I love the taste of the hot liquid as it burns down.
My food is filling, even self-fulfilling
-but the Tawny Frogmouth refused another meal.

VII.
My room in the dark is very soft to the senses.
My body, exhausted from physical labor,
loves the fact that it demands no attention.
I smile myself to sleep by allowing the snapshots
of my day to seep and blend down into my dreams.

I窶冦 only nineteen- can life be more fulfilling than this?
(In my dreams, I whisper yes.)

~W.D.W
_________________________________________

Ya know, I liked this until I made myself sick of it by proofreading it over and over...and changing words around in a vain attempt to give it meter.
Keep in mind that each poem is meant to be separate from every other.
Hmmmm....maybe I'll hate it less in a week.

How to get that A

The following is an actual question given on a University of
Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" That
the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of
course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
(absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law
(gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So
we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the Rate
at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that Once a
soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the Different
religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions State
that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since
there is more than one of these religions and since people do Not belong to more than one
religion, we can project that all souls go To Hell.

With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of
souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change
of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the
temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell
has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1) If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls
enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until
all Hell breaks loose.

2) If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in
Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa
During my Freshman year that, "...it will be a cold day in Hell before I Sleep
with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded
in having an affair with her, then #2 above cannot be true, and thus I am
sure that Hell is exothermic and will not freeze over."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"

HMPH An eventful day...maybe.

Went to the mall to get the "Goddess Workout" (Look, I just had to...It was cheap, and it looks as funny as all hell...) and ended up giving the Ultimate Mocha Chiller my number. So now we'll probably hang out...but I hope he knows I'm just looking for a friend. I'm probably being paranoid; I need to get off my high horse and stop assuming that every guy I talk to wants to date me.
Assuming that's even what I do.

I ran away today; Tiny One was acting mad...so I just left God's house and went home. I'm not even sure she was mad. (If she was, it would have been at me, but damnit, she can share the friggin pillows!!) It was just another dumb moment of me flipping out because everyone isn't perfectly happy, la di da, like it's my problem...but I can't get over the feeling that it IS. Rose would tell me to stop caring; I should, and I've tried, but I feel like it's my personal responsibility to keep everyone happy when we hang out in groups. So when I feel like it's my fault that they're upset, I run.

This may be why I get so stressed out in large groups of people.

One more thing... I'm getting sick, so today I had a "Zeus Juice" smoothie with "immune blast"...but I seriously doubt that a smoothie is going to make me better. Even if it was fantastically yummy.

Also, the moronic management struck again today. I showed up at 9:30...when I thought I was supposed to, only to discover I was 30 minutes late for the one area I was told I WASN'T going to be in. Bastards.

But, they did send me home early. So...I guess it all evens out?

?

I don't even know if I spelled "wherin" correctly. I feel like it needs another E.

On a lighter note...

The Welsher hit on me again at work today, so I got the opportunity to act like he does: "I know I look good, but you can't have me." Unlike him, I did have one trick up my sleeve for that inevitable moment wherin he placed his arm across my shoulders: I elbowed him in the solarplexis.

If I wasn't so short I wouldn't have the advantage that I have; my elbows line up perfectly with sternums, fists with kidneys, etc. On the flip side...Rose's elbows line up perfectly with my chest. OW.
::obscure, bitter laughter::


r a n t
I have come to the conclusion that every day at work I see humankind at its finest- thrown pell-mell into the unknown, muddling through, facing each new sign with rather forced cheerfulness, praying that they won't actually have to fork over more money. They read the sign that tells how to get free nectar and conveniently stop before the "for children wearing this T-shirt" bit, and they come up hopefully; they try to steal from me.
/or they walk up and ask me what I'm selling, and faithfully buy it with no clue as to what it's feeding.
/or Fam interrupts, and cuts me off mid-rant.

GODDAMNIT.

/Or they stand there and stare uncertainly at everything BUT me...the obvious answer to their questions.

People are dumb, hey?

And then, the point...

Second topic. Evidently tonight I can't write things flowingly- I have to block them off into stages.

I realized one of the more absurd teenage social tendencies today when reading over a letter sent to me by MS-DJ. We know each other vaguely from work, and I was under the impression we both liked each other pretty well. No, not in that attracted-type way, though there is nothing wrong with him, aside from the fact that I spent the majority of our conversations wondering if he was gay; the way he laughed had made me wonder.

Back to the point. He mentioned in passing in this letter (a group writing to all his friends) that his girlfriend was currently overseas. And it hit me- that whole time we knew each other at work we had been carefully avoiding the topic of relationships. Why? Because each of us were afraid the other person would lose interest in us if they found out we were taken...even though we were only interested in the other person as a friend! It is SO FREAKING RIDICULOUS!!

::ween's .tried and true. on repeat again:: <----(Thanks, SK. Thanks a lot...you obsession-inducing, should-be-gothic, punkass preppie freak.)

Long time, no rant-y

Good Lord, I am a loser. I went back to the zoo after all. But they offered me a raise AND a promotion...so now all I have to do is survive.

Ya know...it really isn't that bad. Even though there they seem to see me as the ANTI-socialite...they always put me in some clear glass cubicle totally alone for seven-and-a-half of the eight hours I work each day...so when I AM out, I act like a total freak. You know the drill: torment the groundskeepers, steal their grippy thingies and beat things with them, run up to your co-workers laughing hysterically, throw books, stare down children, feed a flock of pigeons...and scream I love you and hug whoever let you out. But hey...half the time I'm getting paid to do my homework, so I don't really care what they think of me.

Just read over that last paragraph. Have come to conclusion: If I stop acting like an utter lunatic, maybe they will let me associate with normal human beings!

Nah.

once...I had a purpose...

I came in from home all psyched because I had something to talk about...but the moment it came for me to write about it I promptly forgot. So I'll revert to my norm and ramble instead.

Spoiled myself today. Spent 140 of Fam's money on me. Bought a forty-dollar kimono top and a nice tin of white tea (among other things; white tea isn't quite THAT expenseive). Am blowing on the tea to cool it, and realized I can see my reflection in it. For some reason that impresses me right now. I must need to go to bed.

Tomorrow morning I must remember my masochistic side and a.) wake up early to exercise, and b.) wake up early to clean my room. Then off to work...

Met someone funny today. Well, I know him already, but I got a glimpse of his actual personality...so I met him. He'd be a good addition to the boy troop, or whatever they are. Certainly not a harem; possibly my friends.

The Ultimate in Boring Crap for Your Enjoyment

Chaos Theory

A flower blooms, breaking free,
wet with fresh rain that glistens in the sun;
a mother, sick and scared, breathes her last alone,
for her family is already dead from drought.

A blackbird caws, disturbing the air,
whipping it down with angry wings;
a son, pink and new, is born mute,
forced to love the world in silence.

A tree limb cracks, crashing down in a storm,
unable to withstand the wind's fury;
a father, red with anger, inhales sharply,
does not strike his daughter.

A tree limb.
A blackbird.
A flower.
Who knew the insignificant held such power?
______________________________________________________
It's not original, it's not good. I'm depressed.

::EDIT::
Blackberries

I sometimes feel a craving for blackberries.
Not because I love the taste,
Not because they are my favorite,
But because they are keys to my memory.
I see the faded light and always sunny day of childhood,
I see the ever-smiling face and perfect long hair of my best friend
each time I stain my mouth with a simple berry.

In this memory everything was country,
And I believed with a child's faith that the trees and grasses went on forever.
My friends and I would long for summer, impatient for the dry heat,
And we knew with our first cup of hard-won berries that it was here.

Most kids just scoured the edge of the patch,
Afraid to venture into the bracken and get the best ones.
But we would go deeper, far into the thorns,
Sleeveless and often shoeless, just to get first choice.
The cuts and scratches would burn for days, but we didn't care;
They added the flavor of victory to the cupfuls,
and made the hose water that washed them all down seem like wine.

~W.D.W.

It's not what I want yet. Ah, well, at least it's not as bad as the last one I cranked out today.

Am I being too hard on myself? Maybe I just am not used to a non-rhyming style...I feel a craving for meter. And my language choice seems so bland.

For Edna
The water washes over me
My eyes shut to find the light
But the lack without reflects within
i'm afraid of the battle I must fight.

The water brings the dark
i lose all will to swim to shore
The surrounding gloom begs me to sleep
i just can't do this anymore.

The water soon chills my skin
My hair flows about me like a caress
Just as lost lover's comforting hands
Would soothe the last damsel in distress.

my skin grows cold and transparent
veins and bones stand in sharp relief
nothing is hidden- all is apparent.
i want to swim- i need belief.

~W.D.W.

Alright boys and girls, who knows their great female writers? Does this ring a bell? Anyone? Anyone?
aaaah, you all are losers.

What came to me during my friend's gig:

What is a tree?
I.
A shelter.
With kind leaves to counter elements;
Sharp shields, a green protecting army,
and branches that ungrudgingly hold
weary bird and beast alike.

II.
Life.
Without these rough-barked giants
who mass-produce the air we breathe
yet attach no value added,
where am I?

III.
A Playground.
I scramble clumsily up the trunk,
my rough child's feet gripping smooth bark,
and my hands pull me higher.
I can spy everything from here.
Others shout down below.

IV.
A mother.
A safe haven I turn to
when my day has been wrong.
I sit hidden; the breeze gives branchy hugs
and rocks me until the sadness flees.

V.
A best friend.
I will entrust no one but a tree
With the knowledge of whom I love.
Soft giggles and red flushed cheeks
as I cut his initials into the trunk,
trusting my secret will be safe.

VI.
A builder.
Without trees there would be no written word,
no fires to warm pale, cold-bumped skin.
They give selflessly, we give nothing:
they do not crave gratitude.

~W.D.W.

More Crappy Poetry, Baby. Run. Now.

Ghost Chant

The apex of the dawn draws near
(There's a chill inside of me)
Soul-less depths fill full of fear
(Lack of will inside of me)

Light reveals the fractured faults
(Something cries inside of me)
The all-devouring darkness halts
(Something dies inside of me)

Here it is, a blinding blaze
(Something tears inside of me)
Reluctantly the shadow strays
(Nothing cares inside of me)

Soon I'll flicker and fade away
(I know what dies inside of me)
No more shadows. It is day.
(No more lies inside of me)

~W.D.W.

I have wanted to to a call and answer poem for a long time, and this is what came out. I have no opinion.
__________________________________________________

For Fam
Faster and faster the angry words fly;
They cut and they bite their way down within.
I fight and I scream, but I will not cry.

Her voice begins to suffocate; I feel her love die.
Around me all civility is caving down in.
Faster and faster the angry words fly.

My moment of weakness; I no longer try.
Her eyes are dark with hatred- that's when
I fight and I scream, but I will not cry.

She pauses for breath; in that moment I spy
Another opening where I can dig my nails in.
Faster and faster the angry words fly.

Her eyes shine with hurt; why did I...
We're both so angry; where did this begin?
I fight and I scream, but I will not cry.

Tomorrow I'll wake and I'll feel low, like some sin.
How shallow and petty we must seem in God's eye!
But faster and faster the angry words fly,
So I fight and I scream, but I will not cry.

~W.D.W.

Yes, I wrote that in honor of me and Fam, but I'd never show it to her because she wouldn't get it. She wouldn't focus on the repentive ending; she'd be all over the feel-sorry-for-myself beginning.
Anyway, bitterness over. I chose this format because the format is very much like the repetitive cycle of our fights. We repeat and nitpick over the same things, and I wnated to show that. I wonder if anyone would pick up on that if I did not tell them?
Funny thing...I'm not an orthodoxly religious person...I was very surprised when He showed up in my poem.
_______________________________________________

Death to the King
Today is the day- as your life fades away
Your world will become empty and grey.
We will watch you die and have nothing to say.
Today is the day- your hair has grown grey,
Your eyes are dim, and why, we can't say,
But you simply refuse to go away.

-but we shall make you, anyway.

~W.D.W.

I found this in my psychology binder today. I don't remember quite when I wrote it, but I revised it and put it up here anyway. I showed it to Biker, she laughed really hard for a while and said it was great. She has a funky sense of humor- I thought it was as morbid as could be. Oh well.
_________________________________________________

Little note that makes me smile: The Dragon's license plate is NME.
n.m.e........enemy, perhaps?

Crappy Mini-Poem Right Here, Right Now.

Good things don't come to those who try,
and fail anyway in the end
Instead they come to those who wait-
Effectively delivered by hand.

Crappy Poetry Part I

Procrastinatress
It is often difficult for me to comprehend
How I can so capably ruin a good thing.
For example:
They say patience is a virtue;
They have obviously never met me.

~W.D.W.

This one doesn't have much to it. I wasn't trying to impress anyone; I was just attempting to cleverly state a fact. The job of the title is to explain what I am talking about. If I showed this poem sans title, I am sure fewer people would fully appreciate what I am talking about.
I played with the word procrastinator and decided on procrastinatress because it makes it seem like I have it down to an art form distinct to me. (Which is true.)
_____________________________________________________
::EDIT::
Autumn Mocks Me
The breeze hurries the husks of leaves by my feet
As I stroll through the dusk and down the street
My coat mimics the leaves and licks at my shoes
I think it would like to be taken up too
But I am too heavy to flutter away.
The breeze that could bring me up would break me down
I'd be flying free amidst chunks of debris
That would split or splinter and sting into me.
My new shirt would be darkened and dirtied and damp
Not bright and white but a bloody dark brown
And I doubt I'd be able to bring myself down.
So right about here is where I will stay
Not up in the air but safe on the ground
My face still and cold as the leaves zip around

Up me, around me, and down me they fly
Tauntingly telling me tales of the sky.