Saturday, June 25, 2005

this is lame but...

but i have to say...after all the hoopla re: "tomkat" (blah)...tom cruise is an idiot. i'm all for medication for depression, add/hd etc. however, i disagree with the family doctor blindly prescribing by the family dr. without a fucking clue. but who is he...a g/d action star to say that these drugs are useless?

moreover, scientology is a fucking joke. it was created by a science fiction writer...

enough said.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

trying this again

finals kept me busy and i've neglected my blog horribly. though not intentionally. in fact i tried to post a few times and lost them. i'm in need of a new blog anyway. it became so one-topic. so there may be something new in the works.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

my how time passes

it's been waaaaaay too long. i'm planning on startin a whole new blog. coming soon to a monitor near you. ok...bad joke. i've been drinking and have to go to bed soon. my new summer job has obscene hours. i have to be there at 8am. i'm too drunk now to be of any use tomorrow. thank god the boss is on vacay. there's absolutely no work to be done until he returns. so i can study my bluebook to prep for my journal write-on. yay.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

yes i'm alive

just doing the finals thing. one down, four more to go. already, i'm over it. which is making studying even more tedious and painful than it should be.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

make-up post for my yesterday's lost post

from some book...yo mama's in the title...

When people look at yo mama's wedding photos, they remark that she looks "haggard."

Yo mama's so ugly, when she drops something in public, heterosexual men assist her only out of altruism, or in the hope that another, more attractive woman is watching.

Yo mama says, "Silence is a virtue." A lot.

If nervous tics were pizzas, yo mama would have five pizzas that freak everybody out.

Yo mama uses fake static noises to end face-to-face conversations.

Yo mama's picture is on the front cover of the controversial new bestseller The Boring Gene.

Yo mama was the subject of the TV movie Fat Insane Whore.

Yo mama's so mentally disturbed, if depression were pastrami, anxiety mustard, and obsessive-compulsive disorder lettuce, she could eat her mental problems as a pretty good sandwich. Only one problem, though: no bread.

Yo mama's so lupine, she chases rabbits.

Yo mama's so lupine, she barks, moans, whines, woofs, yelps, whimpers, growls, and snarls, but what really excites naturalists and laypersons alike is her howl.

Yo mama's so lupine, if she were killed, I would say that chances are she was killed by a wolf from a nearby hostile pack.

Yo mama's so lupine, she went to Alberta and was trapped for her pelt; but she gnawed her leg off and got away. Now she looks back at the experience with a hearty smile. Or is that a grimace? Whatever, she probably can't even tell what we're talking about.

Yo mama's mix tapes are just a bunch of recent U2 songs on one side and a "Weird Al" Yankovic album copied on the other.

Yo mama's CD rack is 90 percent those chocolate CDs her sister's company makes.

Yo mama eats, breathes, and sleeps With Every Man She Can Lay Her Hands On. (With Every Man She Can Lay Her Hands On is an unpublished romantic thrill-ride by yo mama's friend Fleatrice.)

Yo mama is very lupine, and although she is often mistaken for a Mexican gray wolf, or Canis lupus baileyi, I know that she is actually a red wolf, or Canis rufus, because she is smaller than the gray wolf (her head is narrower, also) and because one time I saw her interbreeding with a coyote.

The only reason yo mama doesn't grow a beard is because her facial hair comes in patchy.

Yo mama eats so many biscuits, the guy at the diner sometimes mutters to himself, "Whoa, slow down there, Winifred. Save some for the other fat people."

Yo mama's so industrious, she gives at least 110 percent every time, and sometimes gives infinity percent.

Yo mama has passionate opinions about the issue of wolf reintroduction in the north central states, and we all know why.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

time to get down

so i got my conversation with td out of the way. not that a conversation was necessary, but for whatever reason, i wanted to convey to him in some way, that i'm still attracted to him. because i'm sick of just being friends.

so we hung out most of the afternoon at the corcoran then the national gallery. on the way to the metro, i brought up that my friend thinks it's weird that td and i are friends. that he's of the "when harry met sally" school of thought. so then we start talking about various break ups and whatever. and i said, well short of serious asshole behavior i can be friends with people i've dated. he said, well i'm glad that we're still friends because i like hanging out with you. quick on the heels of that, i said, don't get me wrong, i'm still attracted to you but we're friends now. i said this as we were walking down the escalator so i didn't see his face but he kinda chuckled. it probably gave him a nice little ego boost.

so before i hop on my shady grove train, we make plans to hang out next week. he's got a stack of my cds plus he's made me another mix.

i said something without really saying anything. strike that...i basically said that i like you still but can be friends anyway. which isn't entirely the truth.

i'm no good at liking people. i'm really no good at asking for what i want. i've got no game, no rap whatsoever. if i want a direct answer, i should ask direct questions. but in my backwards way, i said something, put something out there and feel relieved to some extent.

now i can get on with preparing for finals and then leaving for houston after that. those are my priorities now because they're the only thing over which i have any control. not to mention that, in the scheme of things, he shouldn't even be on my list of priorities.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

who's old

i stayed up all night working on a paper. i slept for an hour from 7-8am. it's been a long time since i've stayed up all night. i made it to torts but coudldn't bring myself to hang around for crim. we're covering rape and i just knew that if some fool had something even remotely backwards about date rape, i would have killed him.

as i walked into the market, i saw td. he was gathering his purchases and i saw a bunch of flowers in one of the bags. i looked like shit and felt worse so hurried into the store before he looked up. of course, i ran right into a stack of hand baskets. who's a spaz?

i ran into him last week on the same shopping strip in cleveland park. he works around the corner and i live a few blocks in the other direction. it was the first time i had seen him in about two weeks which was an eternity since we're friends and all and were hanging out once a week.

he's probably seeing someone now. it would probably be pointless to tell him i'm still crushing on him. i'm helpless, i know. but when i think of him, i sigh (though not as hard as i used to). when i see him, he makes me run into handbaskets. that's gotta count for something. it may not mean something but...whatever. i'm tired.