From the beginning of la terminale to the end. My updating is shite. So what woes and wonders can I share with my readers (the whole two of you) that will dazzle and delight? Most lamentably, my book of wit is writ, and I remain paper-plastered to the floor with no hope to give the mystical depths that lurk behind the dryer the contemplation that may save sanity and provide numerable hours of textual enjoyment. I apologize, dear Anticipators. I bow and take a step off stage. Ah, a farewell.

As expected, I have long been meditating on farewells, especially the ones I must soon make. I am disheartened to an immeasureable sum that no amount of big-boxed kittens can lessen. I lament being subjected to the Wheel of Life, which doth have a habit of spinning me into dark corners. And I have great fear, a trembling in the elbows and knees, even a brow wrinkle, fear my friends who I hold close may spin faster and farther than I can reach. While I should enjoy with great enthusiam the notion of scatter-booting these amorphic, cranial creepers and instead basking in the joys of the present as Mikey prescribes, they yet plague my minutes, and I am left with the sound of a soup can being half-heartily knocked about in an alley.

But I cannot remain triste dans la tête. I still retain the glorious magicks of modern technology to aid me in my endeavors of clinging to old friends, and may even press ink to page when in some antiquated mood. Yay for communication, I say, yay.

Ain't it grand to work out your psychological botherations in public print?

Currently Playing Anything Else but the Truth By The Honorary Title Everything I Once Had see related

Greetin's. My tea half-drank and meds all-taken, I thought I might let slip a little drabble and babble about the new school year. The final year. The big'un. As of now, it's been rather the same. I've been a little more emotionally unstable for some reason, but that will pass in time. I blame the constant construction work occurring outside of my window at dos dans le matin, but let us not dwell upon that or else I may have to raise my shoe in protest once more. Classes are only slightly ho-hummish. My American Lit, with the brilliant Doc Brichford, is interesting. I'm well supplied with rambling tales of witch burnings and bestiality to sate any itchin's o' strange I might have(and you thought our forefathers just mused on Indian relations and big boats). My Creative Writing class, delightfully cakey if mind-numbing, goes smoothly, right along with my Intro to Computers, which takes no thought at all. Even I, key bumbler extraordinaire, know where the 'ON' button is. To finish up my quartet o' courses is Intermediate French. I'm trying very hard to parley with the best of'em. Pray much, please. But what about outside of Academia, you ask? NZX is doing splendidly, I believe. I'm a little nervous about Homecoming simply because for so long I've not given two moments of thought to the whole ordeal and now I have to parade myself around in front of the entire university so that later on, should we be victorious, I can watch frat boys and a few fellow sisters get shit-faced in celebration. Perhaps I'll get a cookie somewhere along the line. Better be one helluva cookie, though. Still, I'm hoping for the best and will be there to support the gals in all our endeavors.

Outside of school, all is quiet on the home front. The family is dealing with a few new illnesses, but when you've already got ten or twelve on your plate, a few more don't cause as much alarm. I'm keeping the prayers up, though. All will find its ending. My Aunt Sue et crew are coming in for Labor Day. Yay! Cue fun times and BBQ wings. While I dread enduring the romance inquisition, the closeness will be nice. I heart family time.

Speaking of family, Family Guy will be coming on soon. Thus, I say adieu for this eve and best blessings for thee in the morn. Nighty night, y'all!

Currently Playing Somebody Told Me By Killers see related

How Time hath born wings this summer. The flittering minutes have passed while I have wasted long, lost in an illusionary world where caf food is palatable and most high schoolers do not bring forth fantasies of dismemberment. So at this moment, I come to claim a reprieve and thus, contort my inner rantings and nigh homicidal/suicidal tendencies into a beautiful wash of linguistic supremacy, or in other words, a kersplat of emotional dribble--the very stuff of L'Art Moderne.

Lately my life has rotated on its axis around Upward Bound, a program whose name suggests a unit of sentient life forms that are bound to rise toward the sky....or be bound from those above. Which of these is true, I know not. I find a few of them, the life forms I mean, to be quite marvelous while the remainder equal in egregiousness. The latter I refer to as "little bastards", a title most fitting, I believe. Looking at these not-so-much-anymore wee humanoids, I am reminded that the world is most likely screwed, for as much as I have faith in the abilities of The Marvelous, those Little Bastards, with their life-sucking nozzles of emotional chaos, strip the world of its goodness, or at least, decency. I will pray, however, that The Marvelous hold strong.

How do I stay strong? Simple. I have my most beloved amis to make up for the hellish untidiness of the UB program. There's: Foreign Faced Alia who, in her boundless benevolence, introduced me to the lovely city o' C-ville. Kama, aka Kamalicious, whose lovely wit and infectious laugh have helped to keep my head up. The Jade-a-nator, ruling the UB delinquents with an iron vocal fist and plenty of sass. Cynthia the Sensual One, a fantastic white-girl dancer. Her moves burn up the dance floor, I tell ya. Can't forget Felicia whose soft-spoken promises of pummeling and brilliance in all things academic amaze me. Also, fashion guru Gina always keeps me abreast of the current cool in clothing.

As for the boys, Kevin, the love of my life (next to my asian beau) always makes me smile while Pierce Nippleton is oodles o' fun, I promise. Keyode is also a mentor for me, teaching me the complex linguistics known as "ebonics" and slang. Through him, I have fetched enlightenment dealing with such words as "grill", "milkshake", and the ever-popular "pimp juice". Here, I set out my most humble gratitude and offerings of thanks to all my fellow TC sold-jahs.

And with much sorrow, I must depart. I shall once more put phalanges to keyboard in attempt to illuminate and titillate the soul, but for now, au'voir mes amis. Until next time...which could be like a month from now. Don't hold your breath.

Currently Playing Cowboy Bebop: Blue By Japanimation, Yoko Kanno see related

Wow. 'Sbeen a while, eh? Well, I warned early on I don't do well with writing daily...or weekly...or hell, in this case, even monthly. But I thought I'd drop a few lines, say howdy-doo to all, and give a list o' fun stuffs you might wanna check out.

Book: The Da Vinci Code--My 'must summer read' selection or Banana Yoshimoto's Goodbye Tsugumi--isa good'un

Song: Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs--kk, it's gettin' a wee bit old, but I  it.

Word: Unctous--fun to say and apply!

Show: Family Guy--watch it nightly on Adult Swim 

Currently Playing A Rush of Blood to the Head By Coldplay see related

Are you one of the many frustrated souls still seeking some original, romantic way to celebrate Le Jour D'Amour? Submit not to fear, friends, for my beloved Craig and I, in our effort to share the giddiness that is love, have prepared a list of Valentiney activities sure to snag your special someone's heart...or a possible warrant for arrest. Use with discretion.

1. Send a handmade Valentine card listing all your exs and the traits that made them better than your current love monkey. Then explain to your current love monkey that though he/she is substandard in your book, he/she is still the center of your universe (because desperation demands it).

2. Make a romantic dinner! Put a little arsenic in your special spaghetti and while your smoochikins is getting a stomach pump, sing "I Can Be Your Hero". Remember to mention it was you who called 911 and stayed by your smoochikins' side the whole ambulence ride to the hospital. How sweet!

3. Rent "Valentine" and "Valentine's Day Massacre" for a lovely night o' couch snugglin'.

4. Boil a bunny. That always says, "I love you."

5. Play Cupid! Scratch "Smitten" on a handful of bullets, find a rooftop and an AK 47, and let the love fly!

Hope you enjoy these lil' suggestions. Happy Valentine's Day!

Currently Playing Loveless By My Bloody Valentine see related