dykalicious

i forgot to mention...yesterday i was walking to the bus stop and some boys in a car yelled 'DYKE!' as i walked past.

um

add to today's wackiness that i won the 'athletic person of the week' award from my class government. will wonders never cease?

not just me

from the palo alto weekly:

"Benston's turn as Sherlock Holmes almost saves Rebecca Schenone's unfortunate 'The Bolt Hole,' which was so poorly executed that the audience i sat with actually thought it had ended a critical few moments before the actual event.

"'Craig's List,' by Neva Marie ... was confused, gratuitous, and voyeuristic, although the craft of the actors at least made the playwright's contrived situations interesting to watch."

HAH! DOUBLE HAH! TAKE THAT! add to that a conversation i had with brian about how ridiculously badly written bolt hole is [he's now in on the survivor theatre thing too - he votes becky the first to go] and i am so happy. hahaha becky and neva you SUCK!

chris burned me a cd. yay.

across the great divide

i've been walking in my sleep
counting troubles instead of counting sheep
where the years went i can't say
i just turned around and they'd gone away

i honestly don't knwo how it's possible for me to be this tired. every time i close my eyes if i don't focus really hard i drift into that state where i'm hearing eveything but i'm never sure how much is real and i don't remember any of it when i open my eyes. the last time i was this far gone was the first twenty-four hour plays when i went for eighty-one hours with essentially no sleep - and i definitely haven't done that lately. piles of homework loom ahead of me as i attempt to pull myself out of the giant hole i've once again dug. it's too much to face. too much when i can barely keep my eyes open. i'm sleepwalking. although apparently i get better at playing the guitar when i have little to no idea of what's going on around me - suddenly chord changes are natural and fingering is easily encoded and a sing i tought myself two night ago is firmly recorded. music is life. i could be happy forever if i were turned loose with a guitar. interpersonal interaction has gone the way of the devil. i can't be bothered. or i fail to notice. or something. somehow that's always the first thing to go. i'm tired and the sky is grey and outside the world is soft and cold and beautiful and i can feel my toes poking through the ends of my socks. my bible is open next to me and i ought to be writing [i am writing, but not about joseph] instead of attempting to capture in words the strange way i feel. sad, tired, worn out, stretched too thin - somehow they don't quite sum up this feeling. this feeling of being fundamentally sick of living. this feeling of eveything being too big, too much, too soon. or too far away. maybe i'm glad all of you are gone because i'm much more inclined to communicate like this than in person. and i miss you more than i'm mad, and i love you more than i'm sad and music is the only thing holding me together.

what scares me is that while you're telling me stories
you actually believe that they are real

fuck

is it too much to ask for teachers to tell me i'm in danger of failing before informing my parents?

one two three four

comment and answer:

1. give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
2. how long have you known me?
3. when and how did we first meet?
4. what was your first impression?
5. do you still think that way about me now?
6. what do you think my weakness is?
7. do you think I'll get married?
8. what makes me happy?
9. what makes me sad?
10. what reminds you of me?
11. if you could give me anything what would it be?
12. how well do you know me?
13. ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
14. do you think I could kill someone?
15. describe me in one word.
16. do you think our friendship is getting stronger, weaker, or staying the same?
17. do you feel that you could talk to me about anything and I would listen?
18. are you going to put this on your live journal and see what I say about you?

stand up with you

i hate scenewhores. they were all over the show tonight but it didn't fucking matter because dkm kicked some serious ass and i was rocking out with jess and some random [hot] chick behind me kept touching my hair and eventually i looked back and she said 'i really like your hair!' it rocked so hard.