Tuesday, November 2
I have been so hungry, that even after a full dinner, I was drooling all over a croissant as I was chomping on it. I feel like I'm pregnant or something. Thank you menstruation, and your stages of bloating, moodiness, and unpredictable appetites.

Jeannie came over after school for a little bit to copy some stuff for school. She's devoted, unlike a certain loser who writes pathetic journal entries that are longer than her entire research papers.

Today went smoothly. I got to have a nice talk with Karla for once about stuff. Usually she's with Lauren at the metalshop, while I wander off somewhere being bored out of my ass. But Lauren isn't here today and Mr. Stead was somewhere I don't really care where. We never get to talk much being that we like to ditch people a lot therefore ditching each other. As a matter of fact, I ditched her during lunch but she found me again.

My mom is watching Good Eats in the living room. I can hear the annoying opening sequence song. But it's a kick ass show nonetheless.

I finished the entire Icarus character in my Swan Song mosaic. I'm actually thinking it's quite gorgeous right now. Maybe I won't give this piece away. But usually, more like always, I always give my art away, for I have no use of it and my mom is always complaining about how my works never make sense and I'd like to keep them away from her and her mindless bullshit. For example, I showed her the sketch of the moon lily. She said it looked like armpit hair. Yes, my hardworked sketch for the was-soon-to-be painting that I swear once it gets off of the fucking library's fucking window, will get to Shaina. Two years ago in eighth grade I made a statue of Homer Simpson running over a police car with a steamroller. It ended up in the school library too but I gave it to my other friend who happens to be named Christina also. I wonder where it is right now.

That's fucking retarded, the class is having a chinese food party sometime and we the students are going to have to pay for our food. Oh well, it's chinese food coming from a quality place and I'm the type of person who will do anything for food, so I will pay the ten or so dollars for a nice meal. Not me actually, my parents. I'm a loser like that who likes to talk people into paying for everything for me.

I'm a horrible sweet talker, but I whine and deny shit to get my way for the person to buy the shit for me.

Eric drove me home from school after stopping by Burger King for a bit. Thank God no fear of passing cars that honk and throw money at me. And the sake of the bottom of my pants getting anymore torn up from rubbing them with my sneakers against asphalt, dog shit, and ten week old foliage.

Yadda yadda yadda, oh yeah, the election. Haha Seinfeld moment there. I'm totally neutral on everything, whatever happens, happens for a reason. We don't know what's going to happen, so we don't know what our future leaders are going to do or have to do. Some acts they will have to pass even if it is against our beliefs. For example, the draft. Politics is just not my thing, if you know me well enough or have read enough of my shit, you know that I obviously hate authority and leadership and things of that sort. You guys can bitch all you want at me, whether it's about democrats or republicans or just dissing the hell out of the bullshit I say, I don't care. I'm willing to listen to all that you say but I won't give an opinion of whose side I'm on. The last time I was active in such events, sixth grade, I got such a horrible bashing. And I despise lectures. Despise them. Loathe them. Hate-them-almost-as-much-as-Gwar hate them. I don't know, I'm just the kind of ass who just likes to sit back and watch people squeal in pain and agony and laugh at them. Laugh at their phony lives and arguments over nothing. Observing what goes on and enjoying the psyche behind human nature.

I can't wait until all this hubbub and fights between old crusty balled men is over, so people can stop bothering me to vote, on television or not on television. Stop taking up my MacGyver time with your dumb promotion commercials on your favorite candidate. That's right, shut the fuck up Leonardo DiCaprio. Shut the fuck up Jennifer Aniston. I'd say shut the fuck up to Sinead O'Connor but apparently she got skin cancer on her head so she hasn't been in the public eye (or sun or bright lights for that matter). When the school had a mock election, I voted for Keith Richards. There, he is my favorite candidate.

My mom bought a duck, saying that if her favorite candidate, I'm not saying who for I don't want a fucking lecture from you, wins, she is going to cook us an absolutely decadent dinner for tomorrow. Like I said before, I'm the kind of loser who will do anything for food. So I want her candidate to win just so I can get a decent dinner. Yes, I am that big of an asshole.

Wow, that was probably the most bullshit I have ever written, besides this poem that I made up in ten seconds last night upon Elena's request:

Roll baby roll
Jim Morrison likes it hard
Roll baby roll
Gwar is a piece of tard

But hey, that's an asshole for ya!

Last night I showered in pain, for the water kept beating on my finger, whose a chunk of flesh got sliced off upon my dimwitted self hitting its hand on a drawer, trying to fix the position of a potpourri bowl that was placed in the wrong position.


Christina N. @ 7:53 PM