Stroken's Pad yo

:: 2007 19 February :: 11.42pm

You, my friend, have decided:

What do I deserve?
YOU DECIDE!
View Tally | Get Your Own | VoQuiz.com

:: 2007 18 February :: 11.45pm
:: Mood: creative

I could use an honest opinion and some feedback. I'm submitting this for a scholarship in a few days and have driven myself crazy with tweaking every little detail.
Thanks,
Michelle

A Night Out

She began preparations in the sunny afternoon, considering her pores in natural light. Covering, clogging them with her make-up as the light dimmed, and the fluorescent lights casted unnatural shadows around the room. She hummed a joyful tune while applying white shadow under the arch of her brows to highlight them. Concealer was dabbed under her lashes to hide the bags created from a previously long night. The hair was teased, relaxed, curled, and twisted into submission by long fingers stained yellow. A glance in the mirror assured time well spent.

She strode out the door by the light of the moon, subtly wavering in each step. She rode to the party in the darkness of a promising night, her face shining with possibility. She rolled down the window and breathed in the cold, harsh air. She lit her cigarette and gratefully inhaled equal parts smoke and icy air. Nicotine surged to her brain as the street lights raced by, caressing her face in a steady rhythm.

Arriving, entering, and swaying under the light of a miniature disco ball, the night climaxed around her. The hair had given up hope and the concealer went on strike. She stumbled around the room and became a victim of vulgar insults she no longer could comprehend. She laughed if off with a wide-mouthed grin and another cigarette. She fell out the way she had entered and took up transitory residence in the leafless skeleton of a bush. Later, he saw her by the flicker of his flame and the glow of his non-filtered cigarette.

The body was cold to the touch, but a slight groan assured an inhabitant. She entered once again, not on her own accord, to a stiller house. He carried her down the flight of stairs to his bedroom, basking in the warm glow of candle light. He left her there, in darkness, and slept in the other room.

She was revealed by the new sun, filtered through a topaz curtain, that cast a long shadow with deep valleys of lifeless-blue heliotrope.

:: 2007 16 February :: 1.45am

Get your own CrushTag!

:: 2007 15 February :: 8.47pm
:: Mood: aggravated

Down we go away...

Meeting in fourty five minutes.

I attempted Suduko and a Crossword in USA Today last night. I failed.

I'm itchy all over from taking too hot showers. I thought I lost my pin, but it was on my white blouse.

I'm going to miss Grey's Anatomy yet again for the meeting. I have to walk all the way to the school of music. In the cold. In heels.

My gloves have frogs on them and I have an amazing techicolor scarf (courtesy of Grandma).

I will be home by five o'clock tomorrow night. I expect to see you then.

Michelle

:: 2007 14 February :: 2.41pm
:: Mood: busy

I just finished my American Government test. At least a B+ if I count out all the the questions I think I got wrong. A multiple choice and essay test was a nice change from all the paper writing I've been doing lately. It just burns me out sometimes.

Anyway, all I have left for the day is University Band, which isn't really a class at all.

It's Valentine's Day, afterall.

We decorated our door last night for a contest in our hall. It was fun, but I didn't go to bed until two.

I called the middle school and set up an observation day on Monday March 5. I still have to do one at the high school too, but, Pilar wasn't in his office when I called.
I have to do ten hours of observation this semester, and then thirty more for canidacy into the Teacher Education Program. Of course, I'll probably end up having to do thirty more, because I have to have at least thirty hours in a school that is more than twenty percent non-white, is urban, and at least twenty percent of the kids get free or reduced lunches. I figured one of the Grand Rapids Public Schools would work just fine for that.

Anyway, uband in an hour, valentines, teacher ed. It's all just a bunch of hooha.

:: 2007 12 February :: 12.17am
:: Mood: cold

Sometimes I just want to scream out in warning.

Sometimes you have to learn it for yourself. It's painful. It's heart-wrenching. But it must be done.

I should be going to bed, but my eyes are wide-open. My searching is inconclusive, and I'm sure someday I'll die because life has become stale.

Like stale popcorn that tastes of textured air. Air that rushes in and turns my lungs beet red. Textures like the mucous in a lung with emphazema. Stale. Old. Hindered.

Who could have calculated her thirst that night? Not a one, not even herself. She began preparation in the sunny afternoon, considering her pores in natural light. Covering, clogging them with her make up as the light dimmed, and the fluorescent lights casted unnatural shadows around the room.

She strode out the door by the light of the moon, subtly wavering in each step. She rode to the party in the darkness of a promising night, her face shining with possibility.

Arriving, entering, and swaying under the light of a miniature disco ball, the night climaxed around her. Later, he saw her by the flicker of his flame and the glow of his non-filtered cigarette.

He carried her down the flight of stairs to his bedroom, basking in the warm glow of candle light. He left her there, in darkness, and slept in the other room.

She was revealed by the new sun, filtered through a topaz curtain, that cast a long shadow with deep valleys of heliotrope.

:: 2007 11 February :: 2.29am

I don't have time for the trivial.

So serious, always.

I'm still in my 'mood'. I'm not sure where to seek a cure.

4 orgiasticals | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 10 February :: 3.08pm
:: Mood: pensive

This is the moment that you know that you told her that you loved her, but you don't.
I felt so much better, but it was wrong. Not enough time for self-reflection. Too many people that aren't here.

I've been going through so many different 'moods'. I can't even explain.

...all i see are grey clouds...so when you asked if there's something wrong, you're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now.

But it was vile, it was cheap, and you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me.

but you have to trust me, that i don't mean You.

4 orgiasticals | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 9 February :: 11.51pm

Everyone left me. Coincidentally, my room is full of people.

:: 2007 8 February :: 11.31pm

I'm really quite anxious right now. I'm not quite sure why.

I have to take a fourty question test and write a one page paper

before i go to bed.

but it's okay, because I'm really anxious and I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

ello.

5 orgiasticals | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 6 February :: 10.58am
:: Mood: thoughtful
:: Music: Bright Eyes-True Blue

Is it moral to use the handicapped stall in a public bathroom if you're not handicapped?

These are the questions that keep me up at night.

:: 2007 5 February :: 11.11pm

I feel like crap. I've had a headache all day, and now I feel really queezy. Eh. I hope this isn't the norovirus.

:: 2007 4 February :: 2.17pm
:: Mood: calm

I am officially a Brother-In-Training for KKP. I had first degree, found out who my Big was, and got my pin. It's all very exciting.

:: 2007 3 February :: 6.55pm

The weather outside is frightful, but my dear you're so delightful
I come home and it snows, and due to the blizzarding conditions for most of the day, I've been stuck inside. Unfortunately I had a cleaning bug, so I cleaned my room and rearranged all my furniture. I cleaned out drawers that had stuff from when I was in first grade. Among the things I found were some baseball cards from 1995, and some Poggs. Remember Poggs? Yeah. It was a big fad in the first grade. So, my weekend home has been quite productive.

My parents won't let me go out tonight, which is okay because our road hasn't even been ploughed yet, but I wish I could hang out with Jessie and everyone. That's pretty much the reason why I came home in the first place (well, besides free laundry and non-RFoC food). Ah, well, there's not much I can do.

I'm leaving tomorrow morning about nine-thirty or ten because I have an initiation ceremony for KKP.

So much for a weekend home.

At least I have clean socks, now, though.

Michelle

[edit] Craptastic. The pellet stove (which is the only source of heat in our house) just stopped blowing hot air for no apparent reason. This wasn't the best weekend to come home...

:: 2007 2 February :: 12.25am

I'm going to be a brother.

:: 2007 1 February :: 11.00pm
:: Mood: restless

Formalism
New Critics
Motif
Realism
Character
Dialogue
Exposition
Image.

Waiting. Tired. Eleven O'Clock. Packing. Dirty Socks. Memoirs of a Drunk.

I hate when people get their futures handed to them on a silver platter, and they piss it away. If only they could know how hard it is sometimes. If only they could realize...

I can't even describe how angry I am. There are people in Cedar that are working at fast food jobs for menial pay that are more intelligent, and have more insight than many people that I've met here.

In my edu 107 class we had to take a survey of our high schools. Cedar Springs ranked as a rural school (on the chart, it was at the bottom). Out of 115 people, two were from a school such as ours, and 100 were from "elite" schools (one notch below private). Most of those kids don't deserve to be there. They're there because their parents can pay for them to. They skip classes and aren't there for the academics. It makes me angry. It makes me angry that so many people from Cedar feel like they can't do anything with their life except work at a minimum wage job and hope for a promotion, or go for vocation training, or, go into the armed forces, when all these little bitches here sleep for most of the day. They don't study, they don't do anything. They complain about writing papers and having to actually participate in classes. Sometimes it's a little much, but I LOVE being here and having intelligent discussions. I love my professors and their dedication to their area of study. I even love having to write papers and work my ass off, because I know that it'll pay off one day. It'll make my life better, and I'll be able to make a difference somehow. But these bitches don't do anything. They 'try' a little so that they won't fail enough to get kicked out, or get bitched at by their parents. How are kids suppose to be encouraged in school to "do their best" and succeed, when there is little hope of them doing anything better than their parents after graduation. What's the incentive? What's the point? Why don't we just put everyone that has enough money to go to college in one school, and then train everyone else that doesn't to be a plumber. That's pretty much what China does. A communist nation is kicking our butt because the privledged are too good to get their head out of their asses, and the poor kids have no hope for anything better. Whatever.

*end rant*

[edit] In retrospect, I've realized that plumbers actually make good money, and therefore, please substitute plumber with another vocation that doesn't make much money...such as a stocker at a grocery store, or a security guard (the ones without guns).

1 orgiastical | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 1 February :: 7.16pm

Why does my foundation (make-up) have caffeine in it?

[ponders]

:: 2007 1 February :: 7.10pm
:: Mood: determined

I'm leaving for closed rush in a bit. It's at eight and they told me it would just be an interviewing process. I'm really quite excited.

p.s. I'm coming home this weekend. :)

1 orgiastical | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 31 January :: 11.43pm
:: Mood: calm

Failure is only the opportunity to begin again more intelligently. ~Henry Ford

If only you would be a little sensible, this wouldn't be quite so difficult, I think. I'm here when you need me.

3 orgiasticals | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 30 January :: 10.41pm
:: Mood: calm

I'm very content today. I'm not sure exactly why, but I simply feel content.

There are a few directions I could be going very soon. I'm not quite sure which I will take, or even if I will go anywhere.

I don't see the need to separate yourself because of the things you do to relax. Just because I drink and smoke doesn't make me any better or any worse of a person. Just because I don't believe in a Christian God and don't go to church doesn't mean I'm any better or any worse than anyone else. Just because I've wanted to stop living, or just because I've had premarital sex doesn't make me good or bad.

The way I act, the way I present myself, the way I treat other people is what makes me who I am. You can't decide someone's station by a single action. It's the sum of all the parts, and how those parts are interpreted.

I just felt I need to say that, and that's all.

Goodnight.

Michelle

:: 2007 28 January :: 11.32pm
:: Mood: amused

My face got windburnt from walking to and from my car.

Poo.

Now I know why Rueben doesn't misspell so much these days, Firefox has spell check and it underlines all the words that it think are misspelled.

I find it annoying, but oh well.

I bought those Kool-Aid things today that are plastic and have the twist off caps. It reminds me of being five. They were only $1.00 for six, and I needed some berry cheer.

I finally went and picked up my driver's license. Now, it's time for a job.

Michelle

:: 2007 26 January :: 2.10pm
:: Mood: cheerful

I'm having such a good day today!!! I woke up and watched some CNN and my hair was still curled from last night, so I did a touch up and it still looks really great. In American Literature, we were discussing Emily Dickinson, and I had a validating, but short, converstation with the professor and another student about how we admire her life and her convictions, but we don't necessarily like her poetry. Then, in Literary Analysis, I shared my response paper and the professor told me that it was the perfect aim of a Formalistic Critic (probably the best in the class, he said), and the only problem was that I didn't include that the message of piece was desirable, or in that case, that I just didn't include an opinion, which, of course is negotiable, but still a good piece of advice. And, when I walked back to the dorms, the ground was a slushy. but my socks didn't get wet!

I find it a little odd that I'm so cheerful, but it's just one of those days where everything is going right! I'm eating with Rueben in fifteen minutes at the RFoC, and then I'm on to finish up my homework for the week. This leaves all weekend to lounging and mayhaps a bit of cleaning (my side of the room is in sore need of some tidying).

Michelle

1 orgiastical | don't question bruce dickenson

:: 2007 25 January :: 9.38pm

I went to a social event for Kappa Kappa Psi tonight. It was really great and I'm really excited to join. It's so nice to be with band kids again. Those are the only people you can have debates about legalizing prostitution, abortion, and which star trek series was the best all in the same half an hour.

:: 2007 23 January :: 10.47pm
:: Mood: crazy

I just got back from working out with Rueben. I don't understand why the fitness center is so busy at ten thirty at night. It's the only time that we can go together, but I would go in the middle of the day if I had a choice.

I went to an open rush tonight. I'm going to join Kappa Kappa Si. It's music/band co-ed fraternity that is based in service work for the music, mostly band, organizations. I'm excited. Now the only thing left to do is get a job!

I finally figured out how I'm going to get out of college in four years without killing myself. The answer: Summer classes. I have an appointment Thursday with my academic advisor to see if this is a real possibility. I hope it is.

Time to shower, do some homework (Ugh, EDU 107 video quiz), and got to bed. Tomorrow is my busy day (five classes!).

Michelle

:: 2007 20 January :: 5.42pm

And the sunset was blood red, a beauty stolen from the flesh. It coursed through the sky and splayed out into the clear blue that held it in. Not a cloud in sight to mar the too perfect spectacle.

Considering this sight, the boy wondered. He wondered in the way a new parent marvels at the ten perfectly tiny fingers and the ten perfectly petite toes of her newborn. A wonder of nature created by man.

For the sunset, the beauty of it all, was only a sign of his destruction. One last plea from the sky before it fell to the hand of man. The blood red was merely a product of his modern life.

The boy turned away from the window as the red faded into the horizon, behind the skeleton trees. The realization of the conception of the wonderfilled sight came to him. It was only then that he understood his place in his world. He would honor, celebrate, and even write of scenes of beauty, but with every car ride to the mountains, every piece of plastic discarded, every flip of a light switch, he would silently acknowledge his part in the murder.

In the last rays of the sun, the blood red shone upon him, casting him in his fitting color.

:: 2007 19 January :: 4.10pm

My intro to literary analysis professor proposed a unique idea to my class today. He offered that, at every moment, humans are in one of the five stages of grief. These are onset by loss, and we lose something in every minute that passes in our lives.

Although I have to memorize seventy two words (dealing with literary analysis, such as Accent, Enjambment, and Doggerel) and their definitions in a week and a half, it's still my favorite class this year.

:: 2007 14 January :: 2.57am

"I anchor my ship for a little while only,
My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns to me."

-Walt Whitman "Song Of Myself" from Leaves of Grass

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 36.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

:: 2007 13 January :: 10.00pm
:: Mood: contemplative

I was just affirmed in my nerdishness of English Literature. I just watched Bridget Jones's Diary for the first time with Liz, and couldn't help but pick out all the similarities between it and Pride and Predjudice. I'm sure upon more viewings, I could recognize even more similarities. To start, the love interest was named Darcy, there was a phase that started the exact same way as the first line of the novel ("It is a truth universally acknowledged..."), and the relationship between the two love interests was very similar (save modern 'amping up') to that of Wickham and Mr. Darcy. It was all quite interesting.

Waiting for my hair to dry, it's taking an awfully long time.

Happy Saturday, Everyone.

:: 2007 12 January :: 12.03am
:: Mood: drunk

The world is spinning around me,
Or is it just my head,
Listening to foreign melodies,
Strangers in my bed.

So sad, so sorry,
You feel so bad for you,
I can't think about it all,
How deep is it through?

Approving all your friends,
Laughing loudly all,
Are we going to be caught,
I'm not responsible for the fall.

Making spontaneous shreeks,
Far into the midnight,
The train goes by,
We turn out the light.

:: 2007 11 January :: 10.06pm

What the fuck?

Proper questions, indeed.

The blue sky represents her newfound freedom, whereas the clouds that are covering it up are her grief.

Anyone?