I was born in a small town. (This is not the beginning of a Mellencamp recital. Come back.) I was raised in a small town. I was enrolled in Girl Guides in a small town. I give you this as background material.

Yesterday I was going up the Long Freaking Stairway from Main Street to the Main Street skytrain, when an elderly woman coming down from the top dropped one of her crutches... and it clattered right to my feet. So, thoughtlessly, in my naïve small town way, I snatched it before it could clatter any farther and started up to hand it to her.

"LEAVE IT!!!" she shrieked. "I WANT IT AT THE BOTTOM!!!"

Oh! My mistake. My silly, small town mistake. Of course she wanted it at the bottom. God, how embarrassing.

Well by this point someone else, clearly in the spirit of the thing, had grabbed the crutch from my hand and thrown it even farther up the stairs, before hurtling up after it and escaping entirely sans criticism from the elderly lady. (Although, to be fair, she continued screaming "LEAVE IT!!!" in a voice like gravel-coated sandpaper on helium.) When it came back to her, she snatched it up and THREW it down the stairs. I ducked the hurtling crutch so as not to impede its journey any more than I already had, and continued making my way up. Even so, as I made to pass her, she stopped me again:

"I WANT IT AT THE BOTTOM!!!" she hollered directly into my face.

I feel that when all is said and done, I should be thanking this harpy kind old woman. After all, how else am I to receive the education to amend my naïve small town school of thought?

So in case, by happy coincidence, she stumbles across this entry, I would like to take this moment to say: Thank you, lady. I hope your crutches become animated by some hapless sorcerer's apprentice and BEAT YOU INTO THE GROUND LIKE A NAIL.

Tags: susan's faith in humanity
today's forecast is: cynical

This is a fine specimen of the rare "public post", brought to you by the Fly By Night for one purpose and one purpose only:

I'm 18. Tell me happy birthday.

Bwaha!







Also, in the words of the immortal Strong Bad...
You said you'd bake us a cake. ^{You said you'd bake us a cake!} _{You said you'd bake us a cake.} ^{You said you'd bake us a cake!}

Tags: non-fandom squee

Comment and chances are pretty good you'll be added. Don't comment and I'll be sad.

No, really. I will.

- Kalio

YOU SHALL NOT PASS.

today's forecast is: total. loss. for. words.
today's soundtrack is: HEDLEY: BRAVE NEW WORLD

I am done my math.

I am done (!!) my math.

My math is done. By me. Done. Finished. Completed.

AND BURIED HUZZAH HUZZAH IT'S OVER I WILL NEVER LOOK AT AN ASYMPTOTE AGAIN!!!!!1!

(But really: hee. Asymptote. As in, "This graph looks like asymptote." Hee hee hee.)

*

My computer is slow. Why is my computer slow? I'm glad you asked. My computer is slow because I am copying the other Moulin Rouge CD to it. This is so that it can go home with Ang tomorrow after Shrek 2 which I can SEE OMGOMG!!!1! because I'm DONE MY MATH.

*

The CD has copied. My computer is still slow. Why is my computer still slow? I'm glad you asked. My computer is still slow because I am downloading so. much. stuff. for Ang's CDs which I still have yet to burn for her. They won't be done for tomorrow, but they might be done in time for the moviefest, which I will be attending having DONE MY MATH.

*

All downloads have been called to a halt. Why is this? I'm glad you asked! (*grin à la talkshowhost or usedcarsalesman or infomercialperson*) All downloads have been called to a halt because OMG in the British adverts for MasterCard the tagline is delivered by OMGJACKDAVENPORTOMGLOVE!!!1!and I am frantically searching for pirated copies of said adverts. Frantically. Frantically like a frantic fangirl. That's right.

*

One has never heard French until one has heard French as sung by Rufus Wainwright. That is all.

*

"Plea for KazaaLite" (a triad)
Verse I

What cruel fate doth now control
My KazaaLite and so my soul?
O cruèl wretched and unkind
That my beloved cannot find
Those soft sweet tones of Davenport
(Don't make me click that dumb 'abort'.)

*

Taped and watched MTV awards last night. LOTR hobbitslash = squee! Sean's message to Elijah = squee! JOHNNY DEPP = TEH SQUEEE!

Asylum theme = v. v. disturbing omg.

*

"Plea for KazaaLite" (a triad)
Verse II

Tempting treats you dangle low
Where beady little rat snakes go.
These are not the ads I seek.
Thou art scoundral, scamp, and sneak.
Still I quest through thy foul rule.
(...Star Wars advert? Really? Cool!)

*

I've been friended by an apparently random POTC and HP fan. Rum and huzzah! *waves hello to ciuna on the off chance she has not already regretted her decision and hastily unfriended*

*

"Plea for KazaaLite" (a triad)
Verse III

What upon my ears now falls
But my mother's angry calls.
Voice impatient, language grating,
Message loud and unabating...
Not tonight, oh woe and sorrow!
(I'll be back this time tomorrow.)

*

Goes without saying, anyone who can provide me with one of these commercials will be given love and candy and rum. (Order not necessarily proportionate to amount.)

--Kalio


P.S. math = done.

today's soundtrack is: Rufus Wainwright: Complainte de la Butte

Ang, check your email. You have one (1) Sparrow drabble.

I'm going home now. Must finish math. Must detour by office or McDowell's portable on the way, so as to deliver finally printed-out Short Story Thing. (It might be a story. Then again, it might not. It is twisted and odd and I am not entirely sure where it came from.) Then home, and math, but explaining to Dad why I'm only calling now when it is 2:50 and I have been doing nothing notably constructive for two hours.

When math is over, will be so unspeakably pleased that will not be able to speak of it (ha ha - look, ma, no language skills WHATSOEVER).

I think part of my brain is MIA.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: dazed

Last note: I don't know why that last entry was all centre-y. When I figure it out, I will change it. Until then ... *shrug* meh.

How to make a Susan

Ingredients: 5 parts competetiveness 5 parts self-sufficiency 1 part instinct

Method: Blend at a low speed for 30 seconds. Serve with a slice of wisdom and a pinch of salt. Yum!

today's forecast is: amused

V. v. v. v. v. pleased to be done with chem final. About as hard as expected. Stoichiometry not so easy after all - or maybe wasn't even stoichiometry. Have doubts.

Think perhaps if am unsure if question stoichio or not, am unprepared for final exam. Think furthermore is too late to do anything about it.

Am, to reiterate, v. v. pleased exam is done.

Now only math left to finish, then SCHOOL OVER AND DONE WITH thank deity of your choice.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: relieved

Monday was last day of classes - I AM NO LONGER GROUNDED

Tuesday was Sc.Hum final - neither as long nor as difficult as feared, think I got a B

Wednesday was Spanish final - even easier than anticipated, which is saying something

7 minutes from now is chem final - am worried, but studied and think will do okay. Stoichiometry good. Naming good. Components of matter also good. Organic chemistry a bitch.

Must now print out thing for McDowell to hand in to office after exam.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: anxious
today's soundtrack is: Rufus Wainwright: Hallelujah

What stupid celebrity are you destined to kill? by daydreamer8852
Name
Birthdate
You killed
With a
On	January 25, 2016
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

BOO-YA!

--Kalio

( Edit )

The End. (For now.)

today's forecast is: viciously elated

The Ultimate Defining Personality Quiz You arrrrrrrrrr Thats right.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

Eeeeeeeee! ( More quizzes, actually good for once. )

Boredom + computer + too much time on hands = QUIZ OVERDOSE

--Kalio

( As advertised. )

Off to writing. Where I might actually write, for a change. Hmm.

--Kalio

today's soundtrack is: tra la, tra la.

...( many quizzes, some - you guessed it - actually interesting. )

--Kalio

...requests a beta for her drabble.



The new email address: beadylittleratsnake@yahoo.ca. It's likely to change after I experience Fight Club, mind you, but for now - there it is.

Just did the oral part of the Spanish final. Aced it. *takes a bow* Thank you, thank you. Now it's just the written half to go, and that's the easy one. I think.

The authorities screwed me over regarding next year's courses. I'm not in band. I'm not in AP Eng/Lit. I am, however, in Family Management, which I had never heard of, and now that I have heard of it I don't want it; I don't want a family, I don't want to plan it, and I don't want to manage anything. Thanks anyway. (It's like middle school CAPP with Northey, from what I hear: sex ed and all that. Why would anyone sign up for this course willingly? It is beyond me.)

Oh - for anyone interested, it has been confirmed that Mom did in fact get her condemning evidence from Brennan's LJ. She occasionally reads it. (She occasionally reads all of them. Including mine. I won't even begin to explain how extremely pissed off I am about that.) By this time next week, this journal will most likely be Friends-Only. Desperate times = desperate measures and such.

After much deliberation and fluctuating stress, I have arrived at the conclusion that I really don't want to bother about getting a job this summer. Really don't. Will have to, or I'll continue to be broke, and while broken is good (in terms of movie effects etc.) broke is definitely not. Broke means less broken. Or something. Or maybe my mind is just malfunctioning still and I ought to shut up and abandon the train of thought before it hits the dead end, thank you and goodbye.

*jumps ... watches explosion*

Huzzah.

Plumetted back into despair yesterday after school. Looks like I can make it through the school day lately, but the second I get home it's straight to the room and there follows loud music, inner and outer turmoil, and alarmingly often the repressing of tears. If someone would like to tell me exactly why, in the name of all that is holy or otherwise, this is happening, by all means do so - but don't for the gods' sakes attempt to bring out too much shrinkwrap, because I might react violently. (Or maybe not. Hard to know, these days.)

So. Mysterious depression aside.

I need either really, really good slash, or really, really hideous Mary Sues. If anyone has a rec (or two, or three, or four ... dozen) offer it up and I will hug you and squeeze you and call you George. Except, you know, without the hugging and squeezing bit. 'Cause I don't do that. You understand.

As far as ficwriting goes, I've got. Um. What have I got? (Aside from multiple disorders.)

- the POTC project that I can't say too much about 'cause it's sort of a surprise - to some of you
- the second POTC project that I can't elaborate much on either
- secret POTC project #3, the initial plotbunny representing which snuck up behind me in socials yesterday, bit me, then ran off and hid
- a Sparrow drabbly thing, which I think is ready for beta-testing!!! YES! OH, my mood just went up. Whee.

Anyone interested in beta-reading a potentially sad and not at all talented bit of Sparrow drabble? Anyone at all?

--Kalio

today's soundtrack is: Tool: Ticks and Leeches

Happy Birthday, Johnny! <3

In honour of the day and the man who makes it important, a poem from your favourite wandering minstrel.

Ahem.

Johnny had a fangirl squad,
The fangirls loved him much
To celebrate his birthday they
Obsessed and squeed and such.
With Mountain Dew and posters
And Doritos and such things
They threw a party and they got
As drunk as pirate kings*.
Huzzah! Huzzah! for Johnny Depp
You always make our day
We know that you're now forty-ONE
But really, that's okay.
The greatest actor EVAR
(And though you claim to be 'cursed'
With those great looks), we love you!
Have a happy forty-first.

*Pirate king: see Pirates of Penzance


Huzzah! Huzzah! Huz--

*looks around*

Um.

Anyway, TAG today; will be finding out exactly how badly my courses are screwed up for next year, so I can get on with panicking and running around frantically trying to get them sorted out. (Or, on the optimistic side, finding out that they're not screwed up much at all ... yeah, you're right, that's not terribly likely.)

--Kalio

today's forecast is: amused

This is what I got when I took the quiz a few days ago:


development


WHAT IS YOUR STATE OF LIFE?
brought to you by Quizilla

(Oh, good. Well, when I reach the Something Better stage I'll let you know.)

This is what I got when I took the quiz today (still not cheating, mind you):


dormancy


WHAT IS YOUR STATE OF LIFE?
brought to you by Quizilla

And I think that one's the accurate one, only I'm not so sure about the thing that sleeps inside. Not so sure if there is such a thing. Not so sure that in the event it does in fact exist, it ought to be found and awakened. This may, after all, be one of those Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus things. I shall approach with caution.

Overdosed on Mary Sues again today. Norrington apparently has a few MS-style fangirls after all, Jack apparently has edible eyeballs, and my sanity apparently has flown. Goodbye, sanity. *waves* Remember to write.

Johnny Depp has about two hours left of being 40. Wow. Dear Johnny: I love you with the love that can only be felt by a truly, pathetically devoted teenage girl with a decidedly dubious lifestyle.

Decidedly dubious life, really.

Watched the first half of Murder By Numbers after school. I will undoubtedly have something to say about it once I've finished. Which reminds me - has anyone seen New Waterford Girl? I'm told I should. Seems it's another movie I'm 'in'. So to speak.

I am printing out posters like a mad poster-printing thing. I certainly hope all you Sally people appreciate the effort I go through to help you celebrate dear Johnny's birthday; god knows he isn't likely to appreciate it. But still. All this hard work. Image research and layout work, it's all very time-consuming and dreary. Woe is me. Sigh. But somebody has to do it.

I've found a classmate who has part of the Tonys on tape - including the part where Hugh performs. She is willing to loan it to me, and she has my undying gratitude.

Print, print, print.

I've got poems bouncing around my head again. Some seem to be free verse, but I suppose I won't know till they're out on paper (or at least screen). What's more, I think some of them revolve around interesting metaphors. Perhaps they also contain interesting similes, and that's where all of mine have gone: my muses have been commandeering them. Which is why I'm left with such gems as I am printing out posters like a mad poster-printing thing.

I am so clever.

Print, print, print.

How many posters do we need? Let's hope 14 or so is enough, because I'm being kicked off the computer.

(Mmm: issoprettyposter.)

Right. That's enough of that.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: printy
today's soundtrack is: Coldplay: Clocks (instrumental for weird piano freaks)

Nihilist Bear


Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Existential angst all the way.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: amused

Quizzes: ( cut to spare those who really don't care )

Argleplatz is now a word.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: vicious
today's soundtrack is: Phil Collins: In the Air Tonight

Not only is it a MOOKS shirt, it is on Heath.

My deities take good care of me.

--Kalio

today's forecast is: pleased
today's soundtrack is: Phil Collins: In the Air Tonight