And there be content up at Bad Sam now. :)

Yes, this is what I'm doing a half hour before my exam; writing articles about noise and posting them to foreign websites. Just think, in about an hour's time (in case I read and write slowly), I'll be able to do this anytime I want, guilt-free!

*dance* Bachelor of Arts, Honours, in Communications, here I come! :)

My tongue is metaphorically bleeding from biting it hard and censoring myself from responding to some things appearing on various friends' blogs.

There is much I could expand upon in a rather vituperative burst, but it would probably not win me any points with anyone at whom it was directed, so I have censored myself. In one case, I left a comment, but kept it fairly restrained; in the other case, well... I don't know that I'll be able to say anything without it becoming harsh and extremely critical because I think someone has their head up their ass and is being somewhat... selfish out of it all, and since I don't actually know all the details, anything I say would just earn me extreme rancour, so I stop here.

Argh! Maybe I'll stop censoring myself on my own site and go full-fledged bitch mode the way I used to, before any of my friends actually read here. *sigh* We'll see.

I hate people. :P

Your Stripper Name is Candy Delight!

You are always the feature dancer at the best clubs.
Your customers pay big money to see you, even if it means starving six days of the week.
For you, stripping is an art form, and you are a grande artiste.
Very classy and never trashy - you won't stoop to doing anything sleazy.
You are constantly posing in magazines and winning Miss Nude contests.
In StripperLand, you are the ultimate queen.
Other strippers may be jealous by all the attention you get, but you walk away with the most money!


What's *Your* Stripper Name?

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

New article posted at Whore's Boudoir. Once again, I know it's late, but... well, exams were spanking me left right and centre, and not in the fun way, either. :P

I'm off to bed; I'm absolutely exhausted, though I seem to have found a second wind. Here are some notes for later expansion (teasers, if you will):

* Necrophilia vs. bestiality vs. bestality necrophilism
* Necrophilia with Jen (me)
* Why I hate everyone under the age of 20 (with perhaps a few exceptions)
* Nice cab driver
* Falling asleep at work
* The bridal shower

I think that's everything for now. My mom returned from New Brunswick today, so on the plus side, I now have access to a car again. On the minus side, she remembered to bring my sister, so I now have a sister about. With any luck, she'll start working again and just always be away. :)

For now, it's long past when I wanted to go to bed, so I'm off. Digger has already given up and chosen his spot; now I'll have to disturb him to move the clothes and bedsheets out from underneath him, and he'll get all offended and either leave to return five minutes later, or just allow me to rearrange him. Such are the chronicles of my exciting life.

Okay, while I await a phone call, I shall flesh out last night's notes.

First of all, the French lady. That was an amusing story. :) Three of us lined up at the cash, me in the middle. The lady approaches the cashier on my left, and speaks to her in French. Cashier replies that she doesn't speak French, but I speak up that I do, so the lady moves over to me and I take care of her purchases. She asks me if there's an ATM nearby, I ask which bank and give her directions to the nearest one, cringing every once in awhile at how English my French is, not having studied it in school for going on four years now. She also asks about gift bags and I tell her where they can be found (trying to say "stationnaire" for stationary, then chastising myself out loud for using the wrong term). She takes off and gets money, then comes back into the store to pay for something (I presume the gift bag).

This time, she's with the cashier to my right, and she's speaking perfect English to her. I start laughing and say to the lady, "Now I feel bad! Here I am, speaking horrid French to you, and you speak English!" She laughed and told me that she didn't think my French was awful at all, I shouldn't say that, and to not feel bad.

It made me laugh at the time, anyhow. :)

Buffy progress, for those of you keeping track (or caring at all): I've now burned the first few episodes from each season (4-7) to CD, in order to once again liberate the space that was once my hard drive. I need to clean off my D drive, for sure; it's all full of crap that I probably don't need. :P I'm missing 6 episodes from season 4, 4 from 5 (I think), 1 from 6 and none from 7. I rule! :)

Admittedly, some of the epsiodes have Dutch subtitles, but as I just told Ben, it's provided me with the chance to learn Dutch. Yes, that's it. :)

As for purchases, we hit HMV, and I picked up Shrek, Grease and the first season on DVD. I will *not* spend my entire tax return on sundries, however; if I do, I have *serious* consumer problems. :P

Anyhow, timem for showering and making myself look presentable. Ben and I are going to attempt to make low-fat pizza for dinner, so that'll be a nice adventure. :)

And before I forget (this works well as a note to myself), season four of Sex and the City comes out May 20th. X-Men 2 opens May 2nd. I am so lined up for entertainment this summer! :)

Real update later. In the mood to write, but tired. Eyes sore. :(

Notes to self: French lady at work.
Buffy progress (downloads and burns).
Purchases today with Ben. Damn him for making me spend money! :)

*mutter* <-- Jay knows what that's about. That's all I'm saying.

Secondly, pretty decent day at work today. I was chatting about books with one of our customers and she recommended a couple of authors to me, and I recommended a couple to her, and she wrote them down. That feels good. :)

Otherwise, the day was pretty quiet. Applied to another job or two, got myself another government test booked so I can finish those applications, and watched some tube. Dad made some barbecued steak and I got to have a baked potato. What a fun word to say; poh-tay-toe. Mmm. Yummy. :)

Feeling somewhat thick-headed right now, so I'm not going to write much. Besides, I really have to get to bed. *sigh* Stupid early mornings. At least Dad drove me partway this morning; that was nice. :)

Here's my battle imp. Ain't he cute? :)

Jen X's Battle Imp is

Eaery

Backstabbing: 6 Dodgin': 9 Guts: 8 Magic Mojo: 7 Smackdown: 5

Will your battle imp beat Jen X's? Enter your name and fight.

New article posted at Whore's Boudoir. I swear, it's 'cause of exams that I haven't been posting!

Yargh. Just finished all of my readings (well, the prof's notes on the readings) and now my brain is soupy. I'm not going to fail tomorrow -- I hope -- but I'm likely not getting 100% on it, either. Mind, that's not a big deal, so long as I did okay on the term paper, I don't really care *that* much.

I just want to pass it.

At the same time, I'm feeling fairly confident about my English exam. I just have to finish reading the short story in the final book (how's *that* for procrastination?), and then I'm all set. :) I could probably do fine without reading it, but I want to, for completion's sake.

Today and yesterday were spent pretty quietly, studying and being a slug. Heavy emphasis on the slug part. Digger went out and played in the dirt/mud, then came in here and left muddy footprints on, in order of my discovery: my sheet; the bathroom floor, huge amounts of muddy footprints in the tub, such that I went and got my camera to attempt to capture it for posterity's sake; my windowsill. I cleaned up most of them as best as I could, and just now when I went to replace the bathmat (which I'd washed, along with the other towels that were overdue for cleaning), I discovered the addition of some new footprints in the tub.

Dad and I watched some television tonight, and I figured things out about Angel before he did. Woohoo, am I ever smart (heavy on the sarcasm, said with a grin). Shadow kept deciding that the piles of papers and pens that I had in my lap (using one on the other as I read) made for a perfect sleeping spot. She'd then move from that position to pinning my arm or hand or pen (or combinations of the above), so I had to keep weaselling my various extremities out from underneath her. Because she was taking up great amounts of space on the loveseat (once I'd finally relegated her to merely pressed against my outer thigh), Digger had to find another place to settle. He wound up choosing the blanket that was pooled at my feet, and curling up on that for a nice long rest. My cats are damn cute. :)

I know, there's been an abundance of cat stories that have cropped up on here lately, and for that I apologize. It's difficult knowing the various audience members that read here; I can't or won't complain about various behaviours of friends or enemies, partly because I don't want to upset anyone, and partly because... well, in some ways it's just not worth it. As well, I know I've been stressed and all because of these looming exams, so I don't want to go about taking my stress out on anyone that I might later regret doing so to; there are others that I could bitch at and I wouldn't give two shits later... chances are they'd have invoked my wrath anyhow and deserved it mightily. ;)

The other reason for the abundance of cat stories and lack of much else that was interesting is simply because I've been lurking about my house for the last age and a half and really haven't much more else to report on. :) Although today I did do a bunch of sit-ups and one of my yoga tapes in an attempt to cut back. I stepped on the scale last night and was mightily horrified, so I felt that it was time to act on it. Therefore, I make the attempts. :) What with school wrapping up and the weather warming up, I can finally do as I vowed and get the bike out and start trekking about. As well, I'm going to be making many more attempts to eat healthy foods and cut way back on the sugar consumptions.

This led to tonight's making of two packages of Jello -- we have an abundance of the stuff downstairs, and it's a sweet food that I can eat in moderation without freaking out about how awful it is for me. I'm also making efforts to gear my snacking towards vegetables and fruits, in spite of the consequences. Celery with peanut butter and raisins is still healthy in my book. ;)

Anyhow, one of the hazards of doing yoga in a household that contains cats is that they feel that the minute you're precariously balanced is the best time to decide that you should give them attention. To whit; holding oneself prone in the 'up' position of pushups for a minute or so is a great time for a cat to decide to rub up against you. Admittedly, that didn't set my balance off, but Shadow playing with my pajama pants strings directly underneath my trembling abdomen didn't exactly help my focus.

Digger's really the nuzzler during yoga sessions; he likes to be at hand, and if I have an elbow or a knee protruding, he likes to give it a bump.

My cats are entertaining as hell. :)

I think tomorrow morning shall include a session with the exercise bike and either some television watching or a trashy romance novel to read. I actually bought a few of them the other day, along with the newest Sherman's Lagoon book (I got the new Get Fuzzy book a few days ago), and Salmon of Doubt. I figured I'm owed some trashy reading after cramming my head full of exam material, and most of my books around here are buried somewhere beneath papers and other assorted rubble. Have I mentioned recently I need to clean my room?

I'm going to be looking into renting me some storage space, or seeing if some friends of ours can accomodate a few cartons for me. It's getting ridiculous in here, and I know soon enough my mom's going to come tossing things willy-nilly. If nothing else, I could probably stand to go through my clothes and toss out that which I don't wear anymore. Anyone got use for my old things? :)

Finally, to those who live in my city (you know who you are), who might be in need of a place to stay; match girl's in need of someone to fill a room in her old place. It's $300/month plus some other utilities, and I can provide you with some more information if you're interested. Just email me and I'll make sure she gets your info. I'm not entirely sure when the lease starts, but I believe it's quite soon, as she already has another place lined up. 3-bedroom apartment downtown, good location to various and sundry things, seems to be a nice neighbourhood overall, and near one of the bar strips, for those so inclined. Lord knows we did the drunken/stoned stumble one night without any mishaps... well, aside from the odd drunken phone call or what-have-you. Oops. ;)

Come to think of it, that's the same night we set her up with her current bf... A mishap? You decide. ;)

Anyhow, that all said and done, I'm going to feed my fish, shovel the folded clothes (a step forward! They weren't folded before... and I even put some of them away!) off my bed and take some girl porn with me to bed. I promise to get around to replying to emails after tomorrow... although I may be using Thursday for sleeping after pulling a double shift... and the same on Friday.

On second thought, I may not get around to emails for a bit yet. But I still read 'em! :)

Oh yes, and finally, you may notice the return of the kitty sidebar -- apparently some HTML gremlin stole in and ate them out of my template. As I do whenever anything goes wrong with my site, I blame Ben, whom I am not quite convinced is still alive. Tests are being conducted as we speak, and we should have results within a few days. Mind you, if he starts to smell before then, I suppose we'll have our answer either way. In addition, I brought back the counter on the side, whose code was still in my template but had apparently committed suicide, as there was a big counter-shaped hole where it should have been displaying. No matter, it's back. For those of you who were worried... well, you have a lot of time on your hands, but my blog and I appreciate it. :)

And yes, the fish are still alive; none of them have staged any coups or even been especially threatening lately. Mind you, I'm sure Peacock will soon be plotting some kind of havoc on me; I let a lily pad dissolve in his tank, and now he hasn't any cover under which to blow bubbles -- that hasn't stopped Stick from making a nice nest around his edge of the tank. I think Peacock has bubble nest envy.

Note to self: clean fish water. Buy more lily pads. Stop anthropomorphizing the fish.

New article up at Bad Sam. It's a bit of an expansion on a thought I had on here before, and if it sounds somewhat whiny, it's not really meant to. :)

Oh yes, and I'm now a full-fledged member of Bad Samaritan. Sweetness :)

Ah, today. A day filled with cat snuggles, dull article reading and some work. It went okay; I just seriously disagreed with the plight of the guests, then Mr. Stupid kept calling at the end of my shift and was annoying me. I think he was drinking, though; he forgot my name from one phone call to the next, and he was laughing at me when I was explaining to him how he was being stupid. He got upset when I said he should go back to his drinks, though; ah well. :P

I spent much of my shift removing my nails, which sounds really gross until you remember that I've had acrylics for the last while, and so I was peeling those off. It wasn't exactly a great deal of fun, and my nails underneath are pretty brittle, so I had to file most of them right down, but at least now I can type nicely again. The keyboard feels good under my fingertips -- nice and familiar. It'll be good to hold a pen properly again, too.

Anyhow, I was hanging out here at the computer and I heard this big crash noise, and Shadow came racing over to me to investigate. She and I headed downstairs, thinking that perhaps Digger had gotten into trouble -- nope, there he was, ensconsed in the chair (which would get him in trouble if Mom were around, but she seems to kinda let him stay there), looking quite relaxed. Shadow looked downstairs, so I headed down to see if Dad had gotten hurt or knocked something over -- nope, he was also ensconsed in a chair and he, too, wasn't sure what the noise was.

We both did a scan of the main floor, thinking perhaps that the sliding noise we'd heard was curtain rods that were stashed in the hall closet moving and then thumping against the wall. It didn't seem to fit, but it was the best explanation at the time.

Well, we found out what happened when my dad went to get ready for bed. Shadow, who is not really into jumping and likely takes the prize as the worst jumper of any of our cats (Chloe and Sookie were both quite accomplished, Digger does it well when he wants to jump, which isn't that often), had attempted to get up onto Dad's dresser. It's a pretty tall piece of furniture to begin, and although it might've made sense to do the jump from the windowsill (closer to the dresser and higher up), we think she likely tried to jump from the corner of the bed or the chest that sits in front of the bed (and is the lowest piece of furniture in there).

The doily-thing that sits underneath all of Dad's junk was pulled from the centre downwards, making a U-shape with the two ends pinned by other crap still up there. There were claw marks in the middle of it, and much of Dad's junk was now decorating the carpet. The piggy bank that he has on his dresser (an actual piggy bank, given to him by his sister sometime in the last ten or fifteen years for Christmas as part of her ongoing campaign to give him (and now my sister and I) pig items), which he keeps heavily weighted with loonies and toonies, was still up there, and was likely what saved the whole mess from coming down. Although pretty much everything that was lightweight came down. :P

*sighs* Ah well, crazy cats. :)

A quote (or an exchange, to which I was privy):
"Ow." (said quietly, more as a comment).
"Ow?" (somewhat concerned, questioning)
"I bit my arm."
[much laughing]
"You bit your arm?"
"Well, it was right there!"

Okay, so it was a "you had to be there moment", but I still had to immortalize it. :)

And this is how much of a loser I am at giving myself a manicure; I completely skipped a nail. Not that it's a big crisis, but I wanted to cover up the hideousness that is my nails 'peeled,' so I slopped (never was a truer word chosen) some nail polish on 'em. It looks... well, pretty sad, I must confess. No worries. :)

There we go, just placed bids on seasons 1-3 of Buffy on eBay. Oh, eBay; how I both love and loathe you.

Anyhow, time for me to go to bed. I just discovered a hole in my jeans, confirming my belief that I am huge and fatness and need to lose weight. *sigh*

Second day of training today. I am tired. Urgh. I didn't sleep well last night, then I was up early today -- I hate doing that.

Hung out with the monkey for awhile last night. We watched Ron Jeremy's flick, "Porn Star." I have to say, it was interesting. Sometimes flattering, other times merely realistic, or so it seems -- not everyone is super complimentary about Ron, but they're honest.

Got a good compliment today from the girl I was working beside.
Her: "So, what store did you transfer from?"
Me: "Actually, this is my second shift training."
Her: "Wow, you're doing really well."

Very nice. :)

Chatted very briefly with a guy at the bus stop about his new job at Home Depot -- he had a whole kit, bigger than the one that I got when I was hired here, and so I was tired enough to not care that he was the kind of person I would normally never approach. I offered him congrats on his new job, basically, and we spoke about three more sentences before my bus came. Ah well -- I guess maybe the ladies were right when they said I'd approach a stranger (long ago story from an Estrofest... not worth linking to, 'cause of the other stuff in the post, but you get the picture).

I've made it through a whole one article. *sigh* I was falling asleep and unable to really concentrate, my dad was watching the first Harry Potter movie downstairs really loudly, and I'm just feeling bleagh. My mom leaves for New Brunswick tomorrow, and I'm thinking I'll take Monday or Tuesday off to study, so perhaps with fewer people around the house I might get more reading done.

Hahaha.

Let's see, do I have any interesting stories to tell? Got to chat with one of my coworkers for awhile today. He went through a bad breakup with one of the other coworkers, and there's been so much fall out since then what with people taking sides and all. I know I've chosen my little camp, but at the same time, I also avoid talking about much of it anymore. Of course, every once in awhile I'll get sucked into a gossip fest, but it's with a set group of people that I know I can trust; or at least, they haven't screwed me yet, so why not, eh?

One of my coworkers was saying last week before my shift started that I'm like flypaper for virgins, and it's so true. I was thinking about it recently; in all of my years of sexual activity (and here I'm counting everything from just kissing on up), I've slept with two virgins, one near-virgin, and been propositioned by two others that I turned down (or things never progressed near enough for it to be an actual question). In addition to that, there's one guy who asked me if I wanted to have sex -- when I was 13 or 14, I'd like to point out, which would have made him probably about 15 or 16, if memory serves -- and I have to believe on some level that he was also a virgin or a near-virgin, which brings our total up.

That all said and done... I think I ought to count it as flattering. I don't know why it's the inexperienced or less experienced of the male gender that seem to find me appealing. I suppose, as one person told me, it's 'cause I'm comfortable to be around and I put them at ease. *shrug* I'm trying not to seem like I'm blowing my own horn here, 'cause I'm not; I'm merely repeating what I've been told.

Conversely, there are also the players who hit on me; perhaps because I talk a good line and seem like I'd drop trou for anyone who happened to wink my way. In fact, along those lines, I got my very first honest come-on recently as a result of the Whore's Boudoir. I find that funny as hell; lord knows there are no pictures of me posted through that site and no one has any inkling of how attractive or un-, skinny or large, interesting or dull I am... but because I talk about sex, I must be willing to drop trou for anyone else, sight unseen. It makes me laugh, honestly. :)

*shudder* Mind you, I just thought of something; not only would this guy be taking it as assumed that I'm attractive and he'd want to do me, but I'd be damn sure taking it for granted that *he's* attractive. Considering some of the people I've met throughout the course of things like MUDding or what-have-you, I know the odds of him being attractive, interesting and someone I'd want to sleep with are damn slim. *shudder*

Anyhow, back to the grind go I. Or something like that -- chances are I'll be falling asleep sitting up in my chair. :P

I had my first training shift today, and I think it went pretty well. I didn't screw anything up majorly, although I was probably somewhat slower than some. However, I had a smile on my face most of the time and I had fun chatting with my new coworkers and the customers, so that was cool. I found out that the guy I'd always thought hated me is actually really nice, so no more fear there. :) My legs and feet were killing me by the end of the shift -- even before that, actually -- so I think I'm going to get new lifts for my shoes. They're very comfy, but I need some more in the soles if I'm going to wear them for long stretches of just standing in one place.

It's weird; I still feel somewhat disconnected from the whole place, in a way. Although the guy training me did say to someone else that I was amazing, and I'd been learning really quickly, which is cool. I find the cash system there is much like the cash system at the animal hospital; very much regulated by slow slow computers (although more stable ones), it's just a matter of learning new codes. *shrug* I've a slight knack for puzzling out software without too much effort; give me anything that isn't highly highly specialized and I can usually get up to semi-snuff on it pretty quickly.

I've also been tired since I got home today, and yet here I sit at the computer, doing nothing productive. I think I got so used to being in front of the computer over the last few days that I can't break away... although the bed is so very tempting...

I woke up around 8:30 to hear my parents yelling at each other in a joking manner. I was tempted to yell back from my room, but anything I said would have come out highly muffled and incoherent, although to my mind it would've been a cutting remark yelled at the top of my lungs. I'm funny when I'm communicating while tired. :) My mom has called me at times and woken me up; she'll keep talking to me if she knows I have to be up (although she often overestimates at what hour I need to be up and about), despite my incoherency. At the time, I think I make great sense, but later, I'll think back to our "conversation" and realize I was talking absolute nonsense.

My "favourite" (please note sarcastic quotes) is when she calls me and goes, "Oh, did I wake you up?" I usually manage an affirmative troll-like grunt, to which she'll say, "Oh, go back to sleep, call me when you wake up." I generally try for about five minutes to get back to sleep before the pressing demands of my bladder and my semi-awoken state combine to make sleep impossible, and I promptly call her back, grouchy and grumblingly demand to know what it was she wanted. I'm not very ferocious when I'm tired.

Of course, my favourite (no quotes) story to tell about stupidities while tired is as follows: sleeping over at a boyfriend's place once, I (semi-) wake to see him reading in bed next to me. In my mind: I reach over to lovingly pat his face and say, "Morning." (I never say "good" morning -- what the hell's so good about being up before noon?). I accidentally jab him slightly in the cheek, my coordination not being at its peak upon first blink of day. I apologize for jabbing him, to which he replies, "What?" and I say, "I didn't mean to jab you like that, I meant to pat you on the cheek." He says it doesn't matter, it didn't hurt (or something along those lines).

What actually happened: I wake to see him reading in bed. I reach over to pat him lovingly on the cheek and accidentally jab him slightly. I fall back asleep for approximately twenty minutes, at which point I awake once more to apologize for my previous actions (see above conversation). Now, I can't claim that I was as coherent as it seemed -- after all, I was asked to repeat myself and such -- but does the boyfriend's confusion over the jabbing incident now become clear? To my mind, this was a linear string of events. To him, it was a drawn out process, during which he'd actually forgotten about my clever ruse to poke out his eye or brain or some other such thing under the guise of sheer exhaustion and not fully-wakefulness... at least until I mumblingly apologized for it.

When you're tired enough or feeling goofy enough, anything can become an adverb.

I'm now going to go cookieingly off to bed. The fish support my plan wholeheartedly ... wait, that one's real. Hrm. Well, they support it so long as there's food involved for them.

*yawn* It's actually nice to be tired. So many times the last while, I've been feeling somewhat tired, then going to bed and feeling wired for awhile. Digger hasn't really appreciated all of my kicking and tossing and turning, poor guy. He just wants the mad snugglage. Anyhow, off to bed. Tomorrow's a thrilling day filled with reading -- I have a short story to read for English, then approximately 1000 pages (probably more) of dull dull dull dull dull articles for Intercultural. Did I mention I find them less-than-thrilling? Oh, right. Sorry for the redundancy. And for repeating myself. ;)

Fuckin' A. Checking out my site to view some of the changes I made, I got to be visitor 11111. Nice. :)

And because I screwed around, I don't really have time to write the stuff I wanted to write about. Look for some update awesomeness tomorrow, though, when I dump the contents of my brain onto these pages for you to marvel and grumble about.

With any luck, tomorrow will also include a new article or two. And some email replyage. :)

How does a writer convey their passionate interest in something? Is it possible, when reading something, to determine whether the author had a passionate interest in that topic? If you were to read my final exam, or a paper I'd written for a class where I happened to feel particularly uninspired, would that come through? Is my writing somehow better when I talk about something I found to be funny or touching or just plain interesting, like how stupid Shadow looked sprawled out on her back today for several minutes straight?

I have a maiden aunt. For those not familiar with the term, it's reserved for an unmarried aunt, usually someone older. I also have a maiden uncle, if I can steal the term and assign it to him. I don't know the history of their romantic escapades, but I do know that, nearing and over fifty, neither of them happens to have found that someone with whom they want to spend the rest of their lives. Talking about love just now with a friend, it was said: "Love: It's not all about flowers and walks on beaches.You know that better than anyone."

(And as a side note, my French manicure was just called a Freedom Manicure. That's fantastic).

Anyhow, I whined that I wanted those flowers and walks on the beaches. Part of me feels that that someone I'm going to marry is close by, and I'll realize it or find them sometime in the nearish future. But am I wrong to assume that I'll find that someone soon, when I have two close relatives who never have? Are some of us destined to never marry, never find that "special someone"?

My aunt and uncle have filling, happy lives. Neither of them would say that they were unhappy, I think. I don't think anyone needs to be paired off or married to feel complete, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it for myself.

Sometimes I think that people like Philip have the right idea -- just go out and fuck whomever offers in a given evening, and be done with it. The rest of the time, I just want me a good man who knows how to get me off and enjoys doing it. ;) And yet more times (for when I have free time), I think I just spend too much time in my head, overanalyzing things. Or at least, that's what Jay says, and he knows all. ;)

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I carry on.

The lies and hypocrisy that some people carry around with them and tell themselves amazes the fuck out of me sometimes. There are times I hear people say things and I just want to turn to them and say, "I cannot believe you just fucking said that! Did you think before that asinine thing came out of your mouth?"

The same goes for things that appear in people's journals -- I'm not trying to say that I'm perfect in what I write, far from it in fact. However, when it comes to that which I post here, I aim for a fair representation of what happened, even if it doesn't cast me in the most favourable of lights. If I was bitchy to someone -- like in my last email to UBFM, for example -- I will say so. I will not apologize for my bitchiness unless I have done so to the recipient. If I feel contrite about it, I will express it. But I will not try to say that I deserve bitchy time because of stress or whatever. I might use that to explain my bitchiness, but I'm not going to feel justified about it, just remorseful later.

I had bitchy thoughts about Mark, actually, and an invitation he'd extended to me. I thought perhaps that I was being taken advantage of, and I talked it out with a friend, and then I talked to Mark about it and got it all sorted out. I felt much less grumpy after that.

Bah. This stupid exam has been causing me much grief, and there's another grievous one pending. I have a crapload of reading to do for that one, and some notes to get from the library (note to self: get the notes from the library) to prep for it. I also have my mystery novel and witchcraft exams, which do not cause me much concern. Especially not in comparison.

Hopefully, once the 23rd passes, I will feel much better. Much better. Hopefully. Keep repeating that. ;)

In other news; I am very shortly going to be a contributing member to Bad Samaritan, which is pretty cool. It's not for cash or anything other than lots of attention, which I might even be able to draw over to my own sites. ;) What else? The magazine still wants me to write for them, and I have a few other writing possibilities, I just have to follow up on them. I'll be glad when this albatross known as school clambers down from my neck and gives me the freedom to make huge amounts of mad cash so I can move out and be a slob in my own apartment. :)

Anyhow, this is long enough and I really must be off to bed. More tomorrow, I'm sure.

Ta-dah! I finished the fucking exam. It may suck, it may not answer the questions, but I don't care. It's done; that's all I care about. :)

So that people will stop asking me when my exam dates are or when I'm done school or whatever, I've posted a pseudo-schedule for now with important dates. If I can get something a bit more dynamic, I'll fill it out better, but for now I don't even really know what my schedule is anyhow, so... there. Now you know as much as I. :)

More posting later, after the damn final war question that no one was nice enough to offer to do for me is finished.

Fneh. :P

If you have a good connection, some patience, and an appreciation of Rube Goldberg, check this out. I'm leaving you to choose your mirror; I picked the first one and it worked fantastic, although I watched a second time to get the whole movie (2 minutes) without any stopping.

And some information on it, as it were.