12:42 p.m. x 2003-08-23
takashi miike has beaten me to the coolest film concept ever with "the happiness of the katakuris" - a family buys a little getaway home where people seem intent on going to die, and as they bury their guests and get themselves into all sorts of fun little indiscretions, they break into song. i am definitely tracking down a vhs of that. it's simply brilliant.
that has been my "day" for the past few - staying up until all hours of the evening while i still can, actually being very exuberant and dancing and having a suspiciously good time all alone until about 5 a.m., which means my sleep is slowly improving - largely thanks to "chicago". i got up and danced and sang to that entire thing and it whiped me out three hours earlier than usual. if she hadn't returned it maybe i could've started earlier and slowly built my bedtime up to eleven-thirty or something.
and so it stands as true that i have a class second semester with the widely reknowned BUSBOY that is josh - the token heterosexual male. speaking of which - HEAD FOR THE HILLS! THE SHADOW OF THE GIMPY IS POISED TO WREAK HIS HIDEOUS WRATH ONCE MORE UPON THE UNSUSPECTING CIVILLIANS OF AMISH PARADISE!!! this is bad. terribly bad. although at last he and sara are in the same grade once more - they always got along. why they never dated is up there with the lochness monster and the bermuda triangle. curiousness.
and so today i will go to the library and start/finish the infernal grad project prerequisite to satisfy some susupicious desire of creepy satanic new english bitch, who unconditionally hates me no matter what. why do they stick me with these people?! i know there are teachers that don't hate me! if you find one that likes me, there may be money involved, but i know somewhere there's one that at least doesn't hate me. ooo! like the speech teacher - she does not hate me, she is "wary of my existance", as is the geometry teacher. mellmell cowers under me...i don't think the graphic arts teacher ever noticed me...the american history teacher seemed unaware of my presence in life as well.
'tis how it goes. but i'm looking foreward to seeing the little lot again - playing bull, singing disjointed melodies in a shrill squeak, bothering bethany. we have art together again - brace yourself. this just may be the year she snaps and "psychology today" becomes the next curious media entity to descend upon our rural mecca (we've been filmed and subject to mtv cameras - you know it would only be so long before l.a. and toronto became a little too familiar). i take full responsibility for bethany flying off her hinges - but should shannon snap, i claim no participation because i'd rather shed myself of all association with her then relive what she put me through three years ago. leave it to shannon to find every possible, outlandish way of making her headache the world's problem and watch sanity go down the toilet for everyone. if anyone needs a long stay in a hydrotherapy tub and an attentive nurse, it's her. she must relax and ease up - only then she may be a fully functioning fuck-up.
if this is making any associates of shannon mad - take a long, slow breath. i have many of the same problems as her (save the overzealous social anxiety), and it's all to be taken with a tablespoon of salt (but a grain just won't do). *looks over this entry* alright, i've talked far too much about nothing. i'm going to go nurse my mouth back to pseudohealth.
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start