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m&ms487
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2007 25 February :: 11.30pm
:: Mood: blah
I am crawling out of my skin. I'm trying. I really am.
I can't find anything to DO. I've been sitting here on my computer for two hours. Facebook. Woohu. Facebook. Email (Central). Woohu. Facebook. Email(Hotmail). Facebook. Woohu.
AHHH!
I searched "random journal" for a while hoping to stumble across something that would spark a creative run, but alas, I found nothing.
Thirteen year olds writing "ToDAy My dAD waS sUCH a DICk, UGHG!!" doesn't do much for my writing.
And I can't go to bed because the roommates are still up, and it's hard to sleep with keyboard typing sounds and random stupid laughs at online quiz results going on.
Maybe I should just take a double dose of Nyquil and get on with my life.
I am just having trouble being content. I just am. And I hate it. I hate feeling like I should be doing something else. It ruins all the moments for me. Every moment isn't good enough. It just makes me so tired.
2 memories made |
drops of time
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m&ms487
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2007 25 February :: 4.45pm
So i go to the library to sit for two hours for what? I schedule some block time for my kkpsi interviews and NO ONE SHOWED UP!!
So I just wasted two hours of my life where I could have been sleeping instead of sitting in the coffee shop bored as hell and feeling like shit. I don't even know. My body is DYING. I'm jittery from the coffee I just drank, but I feel like I'm going to throw up and i'm pissed and i feel like crying because i still have to go take my car to the SAC to park it and then i have to walk back to the freaking dorm in a fucking snow storm and i'm sick and i could barely walk from my car to the library, and ITS SNOWING and I HATE DRIVING IN THE SNOW and no one showed up for my fucking block time and what the hell.
a;lwdfj;lsdkjf;askjdf;lakwjsd
this is the worst day ever. i wish i had never gotten out of bed.
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m&ms487
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2007 24 February :: 5.53pm
I don't know how it happened, but I'm more sick. I was sick, raspy voice and all, and then BAM! full blown cold and all. It really sucks. Cold drugs aren't doing much, either.
Oh well.
At least it's the weekend and it's not like I have a midterm and twelve interviews to set up and complete for next week.....
Stupid cold.
3 memories made |
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m&ms487
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2007 23 February :: 11.56pm
:: Mood: chipper
Being sick sucks, especially when your best friend is in FLORIDA.
I wish you many suns of tanning, and little burning.
I just took some nyquil. Oddly, it doesn't make me tired, but it does make me feel like I've had a couple shots. Just sorta loosey goosey, if you know what I mean. And yes, I took only the recommended dosage.
Just finished watching The Prestige. Good movie. A little too tired to get all the details, and the stupid rental DVD kept skipping.
I was tired anyway.
So long, Farewell...
Good Night.
So many interviews to do with the brothers.
So many signatures to get.
AHHH!!!
HUCKLEBERRY FINN!!
midterm.
Michelle
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m&ms487
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2007 23 February :: 12.23pm
O, CNN, apple of my eye, you have lowered yourself...
I was watching CNN this morning (as always) and was (disappointed, angry, scared, shocked, enraged?) when they announced that their next segment would be about reporting the over reporting of Anna Nicole Smith.
Thank goodness Lou Dobbs still has it in him to refuse to devote any of his broadcast to her.
Good ole' Lou.
1 memories made |
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m&ms487
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2007 22 February :: 1.35pm
:: Mood: busy
I'm sick and my lungs are struggling to move.
I have concert tonight and I can't breath. But, the director did say my piccolo playing has improved very much and she's glad that I'm the one playing it this semester. That makes me excited because the piccolo I'm borrowing is absolutely horrible compared to others I have played. It's an instrument, though, and I'm thankful for that.
I have a KKPsi meeting after the concert, and I don't have enough of my signature sheets or interviews done yet. I emailed the VP of membership and told him so that I won't get in as much trouble. Right now, the only thing I'm focused on is breathing and being able to keep breathing.
"After Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes-"
I know Emily didn't get out much, but she knows me way too well.
You say you're sorry, but you're really not. You annoy me. Plain and simple. I'm right, and you're wrong. Whatever.
I have to go shower and do my hair and my make up. I smell like the cafeteria. Ugh.
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m&ms487
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2007 20 February :: 5.47pm
You Are 92% Control Freak
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You are a total control freak, yet you often feel out of control.
If your life isn't "perfect" - it really gets you down.... more than it should!
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You're An Alcoholic
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Time to go back to step one.
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Your Political Profile:
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Overall: 30% Conservative, 70% Liberal
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Social Issues: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal
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Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal
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Fiscal Issues: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal
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Ethics: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
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Defense and Crime: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal
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5 memories made |
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m&ms487
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2007 19 February :: 11.42pm
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cowsgomoo!!!
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2007 19 February :: 1.51pm
Alright, just to prove that I'm alive, and that I didn't fall off the edge of the earth, here is an update for those of you who don't look at any of my million other sites. I'm in Monterey, California. Yes, it is beautiful here, although very expensive. The next time I'll have a chance to come home is either gonna be Easter or late July, i believe. Once I find out more, I'll let you all know. But this, my friends, has been an update
-me
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m&ms487
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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.
drops of time
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ladybug04
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2007 15 February :: 9.09pm
So.. this weekend my sister and I are getting together and going through all of my mom's things and deciding what to do with all of it. I think it's going to be very difficult. I've been in a great mood these past few days, but right now I just can't get her off my mind. I miss her so much.
You have know idea how much of a mistake it is, if you are taking anyone in your life that you care about for granted. They could seriously be gone tomorrow. I saw my mom 4 times in a period of 2 years, but we always stayed in touch through letters, and everytime I saw her, I thought it may be the last time. I didn't take her for granted, and am so thankful for the great last conversation we had together, and that the last time I saw her, we had an aboslute blast and hugged like 6 times before I left. That is what I'm holding one to. I see her face, hear her laugh, and voice, and I can still smell the way she always smelled. It's like she's not really gone. And then reality hits, and sometimes it hits hard. Wow, she is gone. And it still is incredibly hard. I'll never get another letter from her in the mail, I'll never talk to her on the phone again, or laugh with her. One may almost allow these thoughts to drive them to depression, however I believe that I'll see her again. I believe she's in heaven, and she's happier than she ever was in her life. This brings me some peace of mind. There are so many people who I hear have just lost a parent, or loved one. While the situations are exactly the same, I do in some way know exactly what they feel. I just know that, as long as you don't take your loved one's for granted, it wont be as hard if they do ever leave you someday.
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m&ms487
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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
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m&ms487
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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.
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m&ms487
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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.
2 memories made |
drops of time
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