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Actual Revival   
03:04am 30/12/2006
  It's 3:00 AM and I suddenly thought I'd breathe life into this old beast.

Voila! Friday's lamentations.


Today, most adequately measured in collective tissue ussages for the purpose of relieving cold symptoms, has supplied me with some of the grander delights of this vacation.

It is a blessing to have a constant companion, a sort of reoccuring friendship that will slip into the spare segments of time you have not occupied. As I have been on a peachy little medication, this companion has taken an unwilling vacation. My failure to pick up my persciption this month implied a visitation offer.

A have named my cyst Horatio. It makes the whole situation seem creamy and satin-fabric. He is currently residing on my right ovary (I believe), and making himself very known.

Mumsie, ever equipt with New Age optimism, suggested healing visualization to send Horation off. Mumsie's version of healing visualization consists of angelic light and the spiritual dissolving of painful manifestations.

I aimed for this serene light as I stood in the shower and relished the heat. Upon stepping out of the shower, however, my mental efforts had somehow guided me to imagining an array of rotted sealife carcasses and thick oil spilling out of my naval and slipping down the shower drain.

Sometimes I think I harbor negative energy.

I topped off my evening by watching Grizzly Man - a compelling piece, featuring Carson of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy getting friendly with the Teddies - and reading a few chapters of Into the Wild. I am left severely uncomfortable and those Joseph-invoked Alaska fantasies are severely damaged. Severely.

I have seen better Fridays--

--Well, figuring that I've seen some historically blissful Fridays, I guess that goes without saying.
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Attend the Tale   
01:06pm 23/07/2006
mood: ecstatic
.....This might be the most important update of my life.....

If this is truth, I could die happy.


My fingers are crossed, my soul is sold, my heart is racing. YES, YES, YES, YES!
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01:01am 30/06/2006
mood: cheerful
So, story.

Erol and I spent another fine day in Brunswick. There we were, sitting innocently on a green bench in the middle of the Brunswick greenery, discussing Korean vengeance films and doing nothing in the least bit unusual, when the sound of screaming shattered that lovely baritone voice. (Okay, tacky line and I'm not sure if he's a baritone).

We both looked up to see a group of slightly sketchy looking men leaning out the window of their truck. They declared in a charmingly loud tone with a bit of a slur --


Fine, maybe we will.


John-John and I are now having a party.

We are pretending to be robots.

Oh yes.
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Miss Gypsy   
06:27am 24/06/2006
mood: bouncy

Best wishes, my dear.
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11:55am 23/06/2006
mood: awake
Garden State night with my favorite ninja! I'm too thrilled for words. I even attempted to clean the bathroom while listening to Celine Dion with John-John in my glee.

...Bathroom's messy again and I smell like bleach.

It's the thought that counts.
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11:07am 10/06/2006
mood: confused
Last night was pretty exciting, but I know for a fact that I didn't ingest or inject any illegal substances. Still, when you wake up to the sound of pan flutes drifting trippily through your open door, you begin to wonder what exactly you forgot from the previous night. I, personally, pressed my eyes closed very tightly as the chanting began and prayed that I had not been kidnapped by a Certain English Teacher.

....All seemed well when I opened them.

I ventured downstairs with every intention to have a morning cup of tea and watching Lost. I was immediately taken aback by the alter that had been constructed beneath the TV screen. It was little more than a shelf, surrounded by printed off pictures of Aztec gods. Upon it sat a reading lamp for an ethereal soft-light effect, a few crystals, chimes, my tuning fork which I had desperately been searching for, and a few wooden figurines. I took my tuning fork, decided to skip the TV, and went straight for the tea.

Upon entering the dining room, I found Mumsie and Gordon in an array of paper scraps and piercing sounds from the printer - who demanded new color cartridges. They had already printed out a massive pile of pictures of Aztec architecture and were beginning to cut out each one. I made my tea, finding the source of the pan flutes and chanting as I did so (the kitchen radio), and sat down awkwardly in the living room without offering a work.

It's all well and good, but I'd like to be let in on this...erm...matter. It concerns me, I think.

1) Do I have to participate in what ever spiritual awakening Gordon is going through
2) Will watching Lost upset the alter's energy field

Screw the tea, I'm going for coffee.
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12:56am 09/06/2006
mood: amused
So, right now life is beautiful. Even with my mood swings and bad hair, I cannot help but feel that, with summer, things have taken a turn for the better. It will be nice to escape from school for awhile. It's a dear social environment, but suffocating lately. I'm going to elope with every single member of the Jekyll and Hyde cast.

....Even though they don't know it.

Had a marvelous conversation with Aidan today and watched bits of Garden State. Oh-so-marvelous.

John-John, if you read this, do you want to gather a great big group of cool people to do coffee at the Bohemian over the weekend or something? I think that would be orgasmicly awesome.
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Theatrical Perspectives on Defeat   
01:44pm 30/05/2006
mood: degraded
Look as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk,
Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight,
Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk
The prey wherein by nature they delight,
So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night:
His taste delicious, in digestion souring,
Devours his will, that lived by foul devouring.

Today, Hoy's 10th grade English Intensive Final played the role of Tarquin [Sextus Tarquinius], while I unfortunately found myself in the role of Lucrece, pleading worldlessly to the base and vile pages of of the examination, while clinging desperately to my virtuous grade point average virginity.

Analytical writers who value eloquence and detail pay with their lives, glimpsing their bleak fate as they completely a piece of hopeful literary genius, but with ten minutes to face two following trials of the pen. So are they cut down by the quickly sweeping hands of the clock. (Perhaps it is fair to mention there was no visible clock in the room, so judging the horrid closeness of my hovering defeat was impossible).

In conclusion, that exam fucking raped me.
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Memories of Memorial Days   
12:15am 30/05/2006
mood: accomplished
Aidan and I officially have conquered the Maine Mall. At least the 'Intimate Apparel' sections. Much in the Eddie Izzard ripe-fruit-testing style, the Gypsy and the Dandy groped each padded wonder bra in search of the perfect cup. Only relative success was achieved. Tape may be used on prom night. That stated, apologies for the unnecessary information. No offense intended, though I know John-John is terribly unhappy somewhere if he has read this.

We had a charming reunion with Emma in Borders the Blissful, though it was hardly long enough. I've finished the Bananafish pages, though I think something may still be off. My computer is too depressed to really help me in these matters.

After the bra expedition, Mumsie and I took a trip through the grocery store. Somewhere in the health food isle, attempting to find the soy nuts, I was asked out by a sales clerk who I had never laid eyes on in my life. It was a Twilight Zone moment for me. I told him I had a girlfriend.

All's fair in love and war, I say. All is not fair in English, however. There is nothing concrete to study, so I might as well bow my head and accept my fate. Still, there's something heroic to clinging so desperately to the illusion of a decent grade.
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12:08am 29/05/2006
mood: amused
(I've added purchasing a copy of the San Francisco version of "Taming of the Shrew" to my list of aspirations. Then I could pause and rewind each blissful kissing sequence. Ah, marvelous.)

John and I found a charming little pink suit-dress-barbie/Star-Trek outfit in Good Will the other day. I wanted to wear it to prom, but the wool was really too much. It was beautiful, though.

Wild Oats is brimming with smiling patrons, myself included. Jeremiah is always a pleasant sight, despite his poison ivy. He's written a song I hope to hear one day.

Coffee with pepper is amazing.

And bra shopping will be. Oooh yes.
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Lies, all lies   
10:04am 19/05/2006
mood: sick
It's back, elusive creature it is. In any case, I am not feeling particularly better anymore and trust that I have fallen behind far enough to fail the exams. Pfft. I'll be spending the day making more icons for myself, probably.

As a side note, if a keep my stomach pain relatively in check, I'm joining John-John, Mumsie, and Brenda for the Da Vinci Code in Brunswick. Invitation open, of course. I have jitters simply thinking of Audrey Tautou!

Bananafish, my most humble apologies.
12:06pm 18/05/2006
mood: sick
Well, here's an old philosophy. Make the best of the situation. While I have no pressing inclination to plaster a smile on, I feel that there are numerous ways to make an afternoon kneeling in front of the toilet a bit more thrilling. My favorite is dramatics. Though a nameless flu virus is not much fun, a scene from a raw indie flick about drug addiction is quite dramatic. Thus, I turned on some random industrial background music and attempted to give my best off screen performance. I trembled feverishly as I sat on the cold bathroom tiles, reflecting on my wasted youth. Then I got bored, turned the music off, and brushed my teeth repeatedly.

It's 12:15 and I feel considerably better. I should be back tomorrow.
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On Saturday morning   
12:18pm 06/05/2006
  I had some twisted, romantic dream last night (probably brought on by the fabulous version of Taming of the Shrew we watched in English) which ended with the Bananafish coffee house. It's a vague, in any case.

I think I'll spend a romantic day with a my beloved caffeine and give my chapped nose a relaxing recovery from Joey and Imani's knavish devices. And the weather is lovely. So lovely.

Perhaps I'll paint.

Would that I could have my favorite canvas.


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06:02pm 04/05/2006
  So, it was a marvelously day, sunlight laced across the leaves and setting the water ablaze.

..........As warm and pure as it appeared, I regret to report that it is not yet swimming season and I - after a ten minute swim - felt like a victim of the downed Titanic.

In conclusion - Water: Very Fucking Freezing.
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12:48am 03/05/2006
  John-John has fallen asleep on the floor. I made a weak attempt at tucking him in, but I think it rather disrupted his dreaming. He stirred to pointedly tell me -

"I am...how do you say..um... secret agent John! You never see me coming..."

Goodnight, Secret Agent John-John.
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Venting for my sake, and I rather think mine alone   
12:22am 03/05/2006
  First they step on your coat tails and, once you've stumbled they, tread across you, then turn and offer a hand while insisting they have been a perfectly dear companion. So what am I to do? Shatter fragile friendships with an untimely blow of harsh honesty or simply keep brushing off the footprints on the coat tails and swallowing that bitter taste?

The former sounds delightfully deserved, yet I dare not risk that it is my self-righteous, self-pitying imagination that leads me to believe that I have been wronged and robbed, then smiled at so fondly that I am sick.

And yet I feel the cry 'reformation or resignation' that I have choked back for quite some time.

Eitherway, it's my mistake not to make again.
12:20pm 23/04/2006
mood: weird

The most beautiful expression I have ever laid eyes upon. Perfection.
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Past noon   
04:52pm 15/04/2006
  John-John is my savior in a box.  
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Knock three times, meow twice   
09:15pm 11/04/2006
  I didn't expect to, but I miss Chaillot a bit. I think I momentarily tricked myself into believing it was real. I often attempt to conjure a young Aurelia and I watch her walking with Bertaut with the light in her hair. I feel a bit melancholy. Whoever she represents, whoever she happened to be, I hope I did her some justice. Though there could not be a more silken, gentle creature, something about her rubbed across my heart and left it raw. I still feel a bit choked.

And melodramatic, as a side note.

I've buried myself in Chekhov, Stoppard, Beckett, Sartre, and...anyone else I can find.
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08:24pm 09/04/2006
  I am the mother who told her lesbian daughter to invite her girlfriend over for dinner.

I am the father who punished his son for calling you a fag.

I am the preacher who told my congregation that love, not hate, is the definition of a true follower of God.

I am the girl who did not learn the meaning of "homosexual" until highschool but never thought to question why two men might be kissing.

I am the boy who got his Boy Scout Troop to sign a non-discrimination statement.

I am the woman who argues (quite loudly and vehemently) with the bigots who insist that you do not have the right to marry or raise children.

We are the high school class who agrees, unanimously, along with our teacher, that love should be all that matters.

If you agree, repost this. Do it. You don't have to be afraid. You can handle it. You're stronger than you think.

I am making a difference. Hate will not win.