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myspace [Aug. 1st, 2005|02:49 pm]
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |ani difranco-serpentine]

so i havnt updated in forever bc ive recently become a myspace whore.

so if youre interested in still keeping in touch

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(no subject) [May. 25th, 2005|11:16 am]
[music |School Library]

so as a sequel to my other tv bitching i saw a commercial the other day that was bug spray or germs or something and the motto was 'kills bugs dead.' what the fuck? that doesnt make sense. what else happens when you kill something? its still alive? the worst part is that people vote on this. i mean, its bad enough an idiot SUGGESTED it, but there was a bunch of fat lazy people sitting around one of those tables and comfy chairs and they all agreed that this was the best for their company.

travis wants to be mentioned in this, so hi travis.

i have to go to elective now. the bitching shall continue later.
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babies are like puppies [May. 15th, 2005|11:33 pm]
[mood |melancholymelancholy]
[music |Death Cab for Cutie]

so in november im going to see ani difranco. with three friends. so far that includes alex katz. which means im open for 2 more, and if i cant find ppl then im selling the tickets on ebay.

my english AP test is on wednesday, and i heard that Blitzer is going to be getting my history essays. for those of you who dont know..that is VERY bad news. lol life is funny

i think i forgot about yaina's birthday party..which could have been a week or two ago. but we didnt talk since she first told me about it..two weeks before it was going to be. so its not like she called to remind me 3 days before and i said i would go and didnt. it is not the same thing.

shabbas was great..i slept late and then walked to alex's. then we walked and gossiped and i miss her like whoa. i miss them all. i really need to stop living in the past.

My life is the same. there's really nothing new and exciting to update on. my mind is still swirling and full and i still get headaches when i have too much to think about. which would be always.

I'm in love with a man. and his name is Jack Johnson.

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Americans SUCK...or is people? [Apr. 28th, 2005|01:10 pm]
[mood |annoyedannoyed]
[music |Ani Difranco-million you never made]

so yesterday i saw a commercial for losing weight (there are a lot of those nowadays) but at the end they showed this black screen with some writing like the motto and a pictureof the box. and i was studying but i looked up right at that moment..and saw the motto was

"be envied"

what has this world fucking come to? one of the 10 commandments is to not be jealous so what the fuck!? but what bothered me worse than that, was the thought that it woudl actually work. that someone would see that, want to be envied, and buy the product. people like the idea of being envied..dont they realize how horrible it is? its so hypocritical..you dont want to be envious and everyone has all these comments about being yourself and being content with yourself..so why want others to envy you? are they really this selfish and sadistic? that the thought of others pulling their hair out because they dont look like models in magazines who arent even healthy?

i hate people. with a passion.

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yesterday [Apr. 25th, 2005|02:37 pm]
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |Ani Difranco-UpUpUpUpUpUp]

i went for a walk yesterday. to nowhere in particular..just a walk. it started raining and i saw some jewish gurls begin to run home, but i just kept walking, and while i was walking i thought about grant, and how 2 years ago he walked over 2 miles in the pouring rain for a hug and a kiss and for me to tell him that i cared about him. and then i started thinking about amanda..and then becca..and yaina..and bernice... and my mind started flip flopping and all these 'what ifs' and 'what nows' crawled into my head and then i passed this gorgeous dogwood tree that had already bloomed and was beginning to lose its flowers, and all my 'what ifs' turned into 'what nows' and all my 'what nows' turned into 'what ifs.' and then it stopped raining..so i just turned around and walked home.
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(no subject) [Mar. 27th, 2005|12:24 am]
[mood |mellowmellow]
[music |Jon Brion-here we go]



X: A Fabulous Child's Story -- by Lois Gould © 1972

Once upon a time, a baby named X was born. This baby was named X so that nobody could tell whether it was a boy or a girl. Its parents could tell, of course, but they couldn't tell anybody else. They couldn't even tell Baby X, at first.

You see, it was all part of a very important Secret Scientific Xperiment, known officially as Project Baby X. The smartest scientists had set up this Xperiment at a cost of Xactly 23 billion dollars and 72 cents, which might seem like a lot for just one baby, even a very important Xperimental baby. But when you remember the prices of things like strained carrots and stuffed bunnies, and popcorn for the movies and booster shots for camp, let alone 28 shiny quarters from the tooth fairy, you begin to see how it adds up.

Also, long before Baby X was born, all those scientists had to be paid to work out the details of the Xperiment, and to write the Official Instruction Manual for Baby X's parents and, most important of all, to find the right set of parents to bring up Baby X. These parents had to be selected very carefully. Thousands of volunteers had to take thousands of tests and answer thousands of tricky questions. Almost everybody failed because, it turned out, almost everybody really wanted either a baby boy or a baby girl, and not Baby X at all. Also, almost everybody was afraid that a Baby X would be a lot more trouble than a boy or a girl. (They were probably right, the scientists admitted, but Baby X needed parents who wouldn't mind the Xtra trouble.)

There were families with grandparents named Milton and Agatha, who didn't see why a baby couldn't be named Milton or Agatha instead of X, even if it was an X. There were families with aunts who insisted on knitting tiny dresses and uncles who insisted on sending tiny baseball mitts. Worst of all, there were families that already had other children who couldn't be trusted to keep the secret. Certainly not if they knew the secret was worth 23 billion dollars and 72 cents -- and all you had to do was take one little peek at Baby X in the bathtub to know if it was a boy or a girl.

But, finally, the scientists found the Joneses, who really wanted to raise an X more than any other kind of baby -- no matter how much trouble it would be. Ms. and Mr. Jones had to promise they would take equal turns caring for X, and feeding it, and singing it lullabies. And they had to promise never to hire any baby-sitters. The government scientists knew perfectly well that a baby-sitter would probably peek at X in the bathtub, too.

The day the Joneses brought their baby home, lots of friends and relatives came over to see it. None of them knew about the secret Xperiment, though. So the first thing they asked was what kind of a baby X was. When the Joneses smiled and said, "It's an X!" nobody knew what to say. They couldn't say, "Look at her cute little dimples!" And they couldn't say, "Look at his husky little biceps!" And they couldn't even say just plain "kitchy-coo." In fact, they all thought the Joneses were playing some kind of rude joke.

But, of course, the Joneses were not joking. "It's an X" was absolutely all they would say. And that made the friends and relatives very angry. The relatives all felt embarrassed about having an X in the family. "People will think there's something wrong with it!" some of them whispered. "There is something wrong with it!" others whispered back.

"Nonsense!" the Joneses told them all cheerfully. "What could possibly be wrong with this perfectly adorable X?"

Nobody could answer that, except Baby X, who had just finished its bottle. Baby X's answer was a loud, satisfied burp.

Clearly, nothing at all was wrong. Nevertheless, none of the relatives felt comfortable about buying a present for a Baby X. The cousins who sent the baby a tiny football helmet would not come and visit any more. And the neighbors who sent a pink-flowered romper suit pulled their shades down when the Joneses passed their house.

The Official Instruction Manual had warned the new parents that this would happen, so they didn't fret about it. Besides, they were too busy with Baby X and the hundreds of different Xercises for treating it properly.

Ms. And Mr. Jones had to ve Xtra careful about how they played with little X. They knew that if they kept bouncing it up in the air and saying how strong and active it was, they'd be treating it more like a boy than an X. But if all they did was cuddle it and kiss it and tell it how sweet and dainty it was, they'd be treating it more like a girl than an X.

On page 1,654 of the Official Instruction Manual, the scientists prescribed: "plenty of bouncing and plenty of cuddling, both. X ought to be strong and sweet and active. Forget about dainty altogether."

Meanwhile, the Joneses were worrying about other problems. Toys, for instance. And clothes. On his first shopping trip, Mr. Jones told the store clerk, "I need some clothes and toys for my new baby." The clerk smiles and said, "Well, now, is it a boy or a girl?" "It's an X," Mr. Jones said, smiling back. But the clerk got all red in the face and said huffily, "In that case, I'm afraid I can't help you, sir." So Mr. Jones wandered helplessly up and down the aisles trying to find what X needed. But everything in the store was piled up in sections marked "Boys" or "Girls." There were "Boys' Pajamas" and "Girls' Underwear" and "Boys' Fire Engines" and "Girls' Housekeeping Sets." Mr. Jones consulted page 2,326 of the Official Instruction Manual. "Buy plenty of everything!" it said firmly.

So they bought plenty of sturdy blue pajamas in the Boys' Department and cheerful flowered underwear in the Girls' Department. And they bought all kinds of toys. A boy doll that made pee-pee and cried, "Pa-Pa." And a girl doll that talked in three languages and said, "I am the Pres-I-dent of Gen-er-al Mo-tors." They also bought a storybook about a brave princess who rescued a handsome prince from his ivory tower, and another one about a sister and brother who grew up to be a baseball star and a ballet star, and you had to guess which was which.

The head scientists of Project Baby X checked all their purchases and told them to keep up the good work. They also reminded the Joneses to see page 4,629 of the Manual, where it said, "Never make Baby X feel embarrassed or ashamed about what it wants to play with. And if X gets dirty climbing rocks, never say 'Nice little Xes don't get dirty climbing rocks.' "

Likewise, it said, "If X falls down and cries, never say 'Brave little Xes don't cry.' Because, of course, nice little Xes do get dirty, and brave little Xes do cry. No matter how dirty X gets, or how hard it cries, don't worry. It's all part of the Xperiment."

Whenever the Joneses pushed Baby X's stroller in the park, smiling strangers would come over and coo: "Is that a boy or a girl?" The Joneses would smile back and say, "It's an X." The strangers would stop smiling then, and often snarl something nasty - as if the Joneses had snarled at them.

By the time X grew big enough to play with other children, the Joneses' troubles had grown bigger, too. Once a little girl grabbed X's shovel in the sandbox, and zonked X on the head with it. "Now, now, Tracy," the little girl's mother began to scold, "little girls mustn't hit little -" and she turned to ask X, "Are you a little boy or a little girl, dear?"

Mr. Jones, who was sitting near the sandbox, held his breath and crossed his fingers.

X smiled politely at the lady, even though X's head had never been zonked so hard in its life. "I'm a little X," X replied.

"You're a what?" the lady exclaimed angrily. "You're a little b-r-a-t, you mean!"

"But little girls mustn't hit little Xes, either!" said X, retrieving the shovel with another polite smile. "What good does hitting do, anyway?"

X's father, who was still holding his breathe, finally let it out, uncrossed his fingers, and grinned back at X.

And at their next secret Project Baby X meeting, the scientist grinned, too. Baby X was doing fine.

But then ir was time for X ro start school. The Joneses were really worried about this, because school was even more full of rules fro boys and girls, and there were no rules for Xes. The teacher would tell boys to form one line, and girls to form another line. There would be boys' games and girls' games, and boys' secrets and girls' secrets. The school library would have a list of recommended books for girls, and a different list of recommended books for boys. There would even be a bathroom marked BOYS and another one marked GIRLS. Pretty soon boys and girls would hardly talk to each other. What would happen to poor little X?

The Joneses spent weeks consulting their Instruction Manual (there were 249½ pages of advice under "First Day of School"), and attending urgent special conferences with the smart scientists of Project Baby X.

The scientists had to make sure that X's mother had taught X how to throw and catch a ball properly, and that X's father had been sure to teach X what to serve at a doll's tea party. X gad to know how to shoot marbles and how to jump rope and, most of all, what to say when the Other Children asked whether X was a Boy or a Girl.

Finally, X was ready. The Joneses helped X button on a nice new pair of red-and-white checked overalls, and sharpened six pencils for X's nice new pencil box, and marked X's name clearly on all the books in its nice new bookbag. X brushed its teeth and combed its hair, which just about covered its ears, and remembered to put a napkin in its lunch box.

The Joneses had asked X's teacher if the class could line up alphabetically, instead of forming separate lines for boys and girls. And they had asked if X could use the principal's bathroom, because it wasn't marked anything except BATHROOM. X's teacher promised to take care of all those problems. But nobody could help X with the biggest problem of all - Other Children.

Nobody in X's class had ever known an X before. What would they think? How would X make friends?

You couldn't tell what X was by studying its clothes - overalls don't even button right-to-left, like girls' clothes, or left-to-right, like boys' clothes. And you couldn't guess whether X had a girl's short haircut or a boy's long haircut. And it was very hard to tell by the games X liked to play. Either X played ball very well for a girl, or else X played house very well for a boy.

Some of the children tried to find out by asking X tricky questions, like "Who's your favoritesports star?" That was easy. X had two favorite sports stars: a girl jockey named Robyn Smith and a boy archery champion named Robin Hood. Then they asked, "What's your favorite TV program?" And that was even easier. X's favorite TV program was "Lassie," which stars a girl dog played by a boy dog.

When X said that its favorite toy was a doll, everyone decided that X must be a girl. But then X said the doll was really a robot, and that X had computerized it and that it was programmed to bake fudge brownies and the clean up in the kitchen. After X told them that, the other children gave up guessing what X was. All they knew was they'd sure like to see X's doll.

After school, X wanted to play with the other children. "How about shooting some baskets in the gym?" X asked the girls. But all they did was make faces and giggle behind X's back.

"How about weaving some baskets in the arts and crafts room?" X asked the boys. But they all made faces and giggled behind X's back, too.

That night, Ms. And Mr. Jones asked X how things had gone at school. X told them sadly that the lessons were okay, but otherwise school was a terrible place for an X. It seemed as if Other Children would never want an X for a friend.

Once more, the Joneses reached for their Instruction Manual. Under "Other Children." they found the following message: "What did you Xpect? Other Children have to obey all the silly boy-girl rules, because their parents taught them to. Lucky X - you don't have to stick to the rules at all! All you have to do is be yourself. P.S. We're not saying it'll be easy."

X liked being itself But X cried a lot that night, partly because it felt afraid. So X's father held X tight, and cuddled it, and couldn't help crying a little, too. And X's mother cheered them both up by reading an Xciting story about an enchanted prince called Sleeping Handsome, who woke up when Princess Charming kissed him.

The next morning, they all felt much better, and little X went back to school with a brave smile and a clean pair of red-and-white checked overalls.

There was a seven-letter-word spelling bee in class that day. And a seven-lap boys' relay race in the gym. And a seven-layer-cake baking contest in the girls' kitchen corner. X won the spelling bee. X also won the relay race. And X almost won the baking contest, except it forgot to light the oven. Which only proves that nobody's perfect.

One of the Other Children noticed something else, too. He said: "Winning or losing doesn't seem to count to X. X seems to have fun being good at boys' skills and girls' skills."

"Come to think of it," said another one of the Other Children, "maybe X is having twice as much fun as we are!"

So after school that day, the girl who beat X at the baking contest gave X a big slice of her prizewinning cake. And the boy X beat in the relay race asked X to race him home.

From then on, some really funny things began to happen. Susie, who sat next to X in class, suddenly refused to wear pink dresses to school any more. She insisted on wearing red-and-white checked overalls-just like X's. Overalls, she told her parents, were much better for climbing monkey bars.

Then Jim, the class football nut, started wheeling his little sister's doll carriage around the football field. He'd put on his entire football uniform, except for the helmet. Then he'd put the helmet in the carriage, lovingly tucked under an old set of shoulder pads. Then he'd start jogging around the field, pushing the carriage and singing "Rockabye Baby" to his football helmet. He told his family that X did the same thing, so it must be okay. After all, X was now the team's star quarterback.

Susie's parents were horrified by her behavior, and Jim's parents were worried sick about his. But the worst came when the twins, Joe and Peggy, decided to share everything with each other. Peggy used Joe's hockey skates, and his microscope, and took half his newspaper route. Joe used Peggy's needlepoint and her cookbooks, and took two of her three baby-sitting jobs. Peggy started to run the lawn mower, and Joe started running the vacuum cleaner.

Their parents weren't one bit pleased with Peggy's wonderful biology experiments, or with Joe's terrific needlepoint pillows. They didn't care that Peggy mowed the lawn better, and that Joe vacuumed the carpet better. In fact, they were furious. It's all that little X's fault, they agreed. Just because X doesn't know what it is, or what it's supposed to be, it wants to get everybody else mixed up, too!

Peggy and Joe were forbidden to play with X any more. So was Susie, and then Jim, and then all the Other Children. But it was too late; the Other Children stayed mixed up and happy and free, and refused to go back to the way they'd been before X.

Finally, Joe and Peggy's parents decided to call an emergency meeting of the school's Parent's Association, to discuss "The X Problem." They sent a report to the principal stating that X was a "disruptive influence." They demanded immediate action. The Joneses, they said, should be forced to tell whether X was a boy or a girl. And then X should be forced to behave like whichever it was. If the Joneses refused to tell, the Parents' Association said, then X must take an Xamination. The school psychiatrist must Xamine it physically and mentally, and issue a full report. If X's test showed it was a boy, it would have to obey all the boys' rules. If it proved to be a girl, X would have to obey all the girls' rules.

And if X turned out to be some kind of mixed-up misfit, then X should be Xpelled from the school. Immediately!

The principal was very upset. Disruptive influence? Mixed-up misfit? But X was an Xcellent student. All the teachers said it was a delight to have X in their classes. X was president of the student council. X had won first prize in the talent show, and second prize in the art show, and honorable mention in the science fair, and six athletic events on field day, including the potato race.

Nevertheless, insisted the Parents' Association, X is a Problem Child. X is the Biggest Problem Child we have ever seen!

So the principal reluctantly notified X's parents that numerous complaints about X's behavior had come to the school's attention. And that after the psychiatrist's Xamination, the school would decide what to do about X.

The Joneses reported this at once to the scientists, who referred them to page 85,759 of the Instruction Manual. "Sooner or later," it said, "X will have to be Xamined by a psychiatrist. This may be the only way any of us will know for sure whether X is mixed up-or whether everyone else is."

The night before X was to be Xamined, the Joneses tried not to let X see how worried they were. "What if-?" Mr. Jones would say. And Ms. Jones would reply, "No use worrying." Then a few minutes later, Ms. Jones would say, "What if-?" and Mr. Jones would reply, "No use worrying."

X just smiled at them both, and hugged them hard and didn't say much of anything. X was thinking, What if-? And then X thought: No use worrying.

At Xactly 9 o'clock the next day, X reported to the school psychiatrist's office. The principal, along with a committee from the Parents' Association, X's teacher, X's classmates, and Ms. and Mr. Jones, waited in the hall outside. Nobody knew the details of the tests X was to be given, but everybody knew they'd be very hard, and that they'd reveal Xactly what everyone wanted to know about X, but were afraid to ask.

It was terribly quiet in the hall. Almost spooky. Once in a while, they would hear a strange noise inside the room. There were buzzes. And a beep or two. And several bells. An occasional light would flash under the door. The Joneses thought it was a white light, but the principal thought it was blue. Two or three children swore it was either yellow or green. And the Parents' Committee missed it completely.

Through it all, you could hear the psychiatrist's low voice, asking hundreds of questions, and X's higher voice, answering hundreds of answers.

The whole thing took so long that everyone knew it must be the most complete Xamination anyone had ever had to take. Poor X, the Joneses thought. Serves X right, the Parents' Committee thought. I wouldn't like to be in X's overalls right now, the children thought.

At last, the door opened. Everyone crowded around to hear the results. X didn't look any different; in fact, X was smiling. But the psychiatrist looked terrible. He looked as if he was crying! "What happened?" everyone began shouting. Had X done something disgraceful? "I wouldn't be a bit surprised!" muttered Peggy and Joe 5 parents. "Did X flunk the whole test?" cried Susie's parents. "Or just the most important part?" yelled Jim's parents.

"Oh, dear," sighed Mr. Jones.

"Oh, dear," sighed Ms. Jones.

"Sssh," ssshed the principal. "The psychiatrist is trying to speak."

Wiping his eyes and clearing his throat, the psychiatrist began, in a hoarse whisper. "In my opinion," he whispered -- you could tell he must be very upset --"in my opinion, young X here-"

"Yes? Yes?" shouted a parent impatiently.

"Sssh!" ssshed the principal.

"Young Sssh here, I mean young X," said the doctor, frowning, is Just about-"

"Just about what? Let's have it!" shouted another parent.

"...... just about the least mixed-up child I've ever Xamined!" said the psychiatrist.

"Yay for X!" yelled one of the children. And then the others began yelling, too. Clapping and cheering and jumping up and down.

"SSSH!" SSShed the principal, but nobody did.

The Parents' Committee was angry and bewildered. How could X have passed the whole Xamination? Didn't' X have an identity problem? Wasn't X mixed up at all? Wasn't X any kind of a misfit? How could it not be, when it didn't even know what it was? And why was the psychiatrist crying?

Actually, he had stopped crying and was smiling politely through his tears. "Don't you see?" he said. "I'm crying because it's wonderful! X has absolutely no identity problem! X isn't one bit mixed up! As for being a misfit -- ridiculous! X knows perfectly well what it is! Don't you, X?" The doctor winked. X winked back.

"But what is X?" shrieked Peggy and Joe's parents. "We still want to know what it is!"

"Ah, yes," said the doctor, winking again. "Well, don't worry. You'll all know one of these days. And you won't need me to tell you."

"What? What does he mean?" some of the parents grumbled suspiciously.

Susie and Peggy and Joe all answered at once. "He means that by the time X's sex matters, it won't be a secret any more!"

With that, the doctor began to push through the crowd toward X's parents. "How do you do," he said, somewhat stiffly. And then he reached out to hug them both. "If I ever have an X of my own," he whispered, "I sure hope you'll lend me your instruction manual."

Needless to say, the Joneses were very happy. The Project Baby X scientists were rather pleased, too. So were Susie, Jim, Peggy, Joe and all the Other Children. The Parents' Association wasn't, but they had promised to accept the psychiatrist's report, and not make any more trouble. They even invited Ms. and Mr. Jones to become honorary members, which they did.

Later that day, all X's friends put on their red-and-white checked overalls and went over to see X. They found X in the back yard, playing with a very tiny baby that none of them had ever seen before. The baby was wearing very tiny red-and-white checked overalls.

"How do you like our new baby?" X asked the Other Children proudly.

"It's got cute dimples," said Jim.

"It's got husky biceps, too," said Susie.

"What kind of baby is it?" asked Joe and Peggy.

X frowned at them. "Can't you tell?" Then X broke into a big, mischievous grin. "It's a Y!"

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(no subject) [Mar. 17th, 2005|01:16 am]
[mood |awakeawake]
[music |Pink Floyd-Comfortably numb]

well, im a bit worried about my mom. i come home and shes in a deep sleep on the couch and when i wake her she tells me that she was at the doctors for 3 hours this afternoon, doesnt feel well, and thinks they took too much blood. shes been sleeping since. that cant be good for someone who had triple bypass heart surgery last year.

i have a blitzer essay due tomorrow and i read it and find it completly impossible and so im not doing it because i cant and as long as i have stephen king and ari friedman it wont happen anyway. im so screwed.

my days have been crappy lately. but im still going to philly for my birthday weeked so all will be well.

ps i hate hhne. i hate the materialistic people with a PASSION and i cant stand them anymore.


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awesomest poem everrr [Mar. 13th, 2005|09:30 pm]
[mood |hopefulhopeful]
[music |Ani Difranco-educated guess]

Annabel Lee
by: Edgar Allen Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
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(no subject) [Mar. 13th, 2005|06:47 pm]
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |tv on the radio...? oh david..]

community service was the shit.

first i helped set up at the maritime center in long wharf adn then got driven to westville to help ppl with their party. one womanw as really nice but her 'partner' was a huge bitch to me. although she seemed pretty mean to her 'partner' too so i didnt take it too personality.

it was kinda weird though..there were soo many lesbians that every time i walked into the dining room from the kitchen they all turned to stare at me and they all thanked me a lot and whatnot. lol, lesbians.

And then i went back to the maritime center and was going to help with the coat checking but the gurl didnt want my help so i stayed by richard who was bartending and talked to him and whatched him get hit on by incredibly gay guys in leather pants and jackets and pink shirts.

i havnt seen that many gays since an ani difranco concert.


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(no subject) [Mar. 11th, 2005|06:13 pm]
[mood |blankblank]
[music |Garden State Soundtrack]

wow, i havnt written in so long, so i think im going to go backwards.

today we went to school, davened, went to waldbaums, brought jay back to school and went home. and by home i mean i went to shaynas and watched part of bad santa with ilana but my mom kept calling (she was so pissed at mr schneider) that i just walked home. in the snow. it was amazing.

yesterday was total crap.

NYC!!! was the absolute shit. i mean, got bitched about 5 times and blitzer deff hates me forever now, but it was so worth it. first they were an hour late so we only had an hour for lunch, so i went with judie judith talia and eliana and got pizza but the entire school went in after us so we left and walked around. at the theatre mr cool kid, aka davidlevin brought me starbucks and i told him and yoni to save me a seat, so they did, inbetween them. but mr page sat there so i went over to ask if he would switch with me and blitzer blocked my way, bitchout#1. i went back to my seat bitchout#2. i fell asleep, denzel wasnt all that amazing, sorry to dissapoint anyone. intermisson was crap so davidlevin and i left (i didnt have my coat) and he bought 4comedy night tickets for $10 and we passed a bum with a sign that said 'need money for 4:20, beer, drugs, and hookers (hey, at least im not bullshitting you)' so david gave him al his money. we went to starbucks and on the way back david got into an argument with someone else trying to sell us improv night tickets, david finally just said that when comparing dave chappelle and jerry seinfeld, 'jerry takes the cake' and we went back to the theatre. zach was pacing the entrance and said he could take it in there anymore so i went in and got my coat and we walked around. we went to toys r us and david got kicked off a bicycle and we just wandered. we got back adn the show was done, we start going up the stairs and blitzer and page were there. she screamed at zach to go to mincha and then screamed at me and david for a while, bitchout#3. i dont understad, if zach doesnt get in trouble i shouldnt either, we both didnt need chapparones. whatev. after mincha yeager and i wandered off and ran into mike who dragged us into every single one of those stores that are all the same. it was great. but of course we thought we were supposed to meet back at 630 when it was realy 6. bitchout (rabbi kahn style)#4. on the bus the three of us had to sit up front as punishment, bitchout (ms astur style)#5.

all in all, it was a great day and david is my love. and i honestly dont know what id do without yeager and mike in my life.

theres more, but i must eat now.

shabbas is not for me this weekened, im going to do my community service helping out  at a gay party. it doesnt get any better than this.

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