If my sister can stay up till 5:00 am to replenish the hazing of her iPod content, then I can certainly stay up just as late (or early?) to finish this godforsaken essay.

Edgeworth porn, stop distracting me!

... if she made me suffer, I can make you all suffer too. And if you don't suffer debilitating curiousity, I will be hurt.

~PARANOIA MEME~

Say 15-10 things you've always wanted to tell people, but don't say who they are.

1. I don't really know what to believe anymore, and I think the fact that I don't care saves me. I do miss you though - or miss you as I remember you. I know that's not fair because everyone has a right to grow and change and... be happy, okay? I still care that much.

2. Everytime I sign on MSN, I hope you're there. The fact that you're not makes it hard for me to bother appearing online.

3. Sometimes you rub me up the wrong way, but mostly I love you.

4. I wonder if you ever loved me?

5. We used to be really good friends, but now you bore me a bit. I still want the best for you and I like to believe the feeling is mutual, but honestly I find your world-view a little narrow these days.

6. Your life has been so easy that you're a bit of a twat. I do like you, but I wonder if you've any depth at all. You're sparkly and bubbly like a brook, but with as much depth.

7. You were funny and hilarious and I got the feeling you didn't like me much, but damn, you were awesome. I wished we'd talked more.

8. You. Are much more than you give yourself credit for. I trust your opinion a lot and I wish you would gain the courage to make something of everything you've got. Because it could be beautiful.

9. I regret not becoming better friends with you.

10. I wonder if you're dead yet. I hope not, but I'll never find out now and that bothers me less than it should.

"Dear ÜberAsian:
I'm sorry I have to ask this. I'm a 19-year-old white guy at UC Berkeley, and I notice all my white friends get really nervous when they have a class with a lot of Asians. Some of them even drop classes because they believe having a lot of Asians in a class raises the curve. I don't want to generalize, but I have noticed many of my Asian friends have excellent GPAs as well. I'd like to know what gives Asians such an edge in test taking. Is it the low-fat diet? Some special studying technique? Please help me.

--Steven Wajoharsky

There's an easy answer for this Steve. It's in the name. Have you ever noticed that Asians generally have pretty short names? Lee, Lai, Pak, Park, Kim, Tran, Hsu, etc. By the time you've bubbled in the R in W-A-J-O-H-A-R-S-K-Y with your No. 2 pencil, an Asian is already on problem 15."

Why hello there, procrastination.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicise those you intend to read
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them.


1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien (Fuck me, were you boring)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott (Yeah, yeah, I fucking love Little Women okay?)
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll (It's required by law and the way I dress that I love the immortal Alice)
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden (Nobu was a hundred times sexier than the chairman. I fantasized about him)
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown (God, the book was bad)
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding (And wrote fanfic!)
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding (Yeah, I know. Shutupokay)
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White (God, this was boring)
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Man, I don't read as much as I thought I did.

So, I spruced up my journal a little bit and then heartlessly razed all my more meaningful and hilarious (to me anyway) user-icons in favor of candy-colored Marie Antoinette avatars. Apparently, the only way to make me forget gross historical inaccuracies is to make everything so ludicrously pretty and frilly and colorful that I am drugged and numb - "French Revolution? Wut-wut?"

I've gotten a new job, by the way, so some of you can stop sending me links to fast-food restaurants that're hiring. I say 'new', I really mean, 'I waited a month to tell you guys because I know you'd laugh at how I'm moving up in the world and no, it's not the sex trade'. I'm - wait for it...

A TELEMARKETER.

Only not really because I'm technically called an 'information gatherer' or some such nice sounding name, but in reality, it adds up to me calling people up and them telling me I ought to be ashamed of what I do. Honestly, and strippers think they have it tough. Not that it's not a decent job though - I get to make my own hours, the pay's alright and I don't have to move beyond punching out numbers on a phone and twitching uncontrollably as some old lady makes me repeat my introduction about five times before telling me that back in the OLD days, telemarketers had the decency not to call on SUNDAYS.

I get to go home this December 6th too - proper food, here I come! Living as I do, gloriously lonesome and very, very cheap, I only buy the very dregs of the sales bin at Superstore. I wince at the sight of food in the dustbin, it is only society's rigorous conditioning that prevents me from pulling out that perfectly serviceable pancake nestling in between those cardboard boxes. Several friends, bless their buttons and boots and various winter paraphenalia, have offered to take it out to dinner and I intend to hold them to it and occasionally grind their noses INTO it.

Naturally, all this happiness comes at a price and you can't get to heaven without facing Apollyon (was it Apollyon in Paradise Lost that was the place with lions? I forget) - I've an essay and an exam to get through, as well as general packing and making sure I don't lose my plane ticket. Something that is all too likely to happen, unfortunately.

Veering away briefly from frivolity - though normal programming will resume in just a minute - I'm actually a little scared of going home and finding that my place has closed up. I certainly don't expect things to stay the same, and I've been good about keeping contact but... things have happened that I haven't had the chance to take part in - things have changed and I've had no part in changing them - I've changed, fanned out a little more, grown a little sadder and maybe a bit wiser and a lot foolisher. I can't imagine not fitting in with my family, but what if?

I miss you all, you non-updating bastards. I hope you all take care. And drop me a line so I can stalk send you Xmas cards.

So, I got a new job. It's commission-based, and quite lucrative should you have the charisma of ooh, say, Edward Cullen with his scintillating arms. I, unfortunately, seem to have the general effect of Bella Swann on the intelligent population. IE: No one will fucking listen to me.

My spiel starts off with: "Hi there, my name's Phing from Universal Powers, I'm here to make sure that there's price protection on your gas and hydro bills."

To which they respond, "Fuck off, girlie."

Or as one lady put it, hiding behind her tall husband and holding two dogs, "Tell her to get lost or the dogs'll bite her."

Charming. Truly.

My day generally lasts from eleven to seven. I walk about a strange neighborhood alone and armed with a folder and wander about, knocking on doors till my knuckles are black and blue while I wait for my boss/manager to phone me and say, "Where are you? I'll come pick you up." This is generally the best part of the day, as I get to hold back tears of rage and frustration and say, "I'm in the Seventh Circle of Hell. Get here quickly."

He gives me a ride back to my place - thank GOD I don't have to take the bus home. I'm not happy wandering about being small and Asian at night - and I generally sit back and make small talk and sulk. By the time I get home, I'm so pissed off at wasting an entire day and not making any money that I run out to the nearby drug mart and grab myself two bags of chips and stay in bed and read and weep.

I've a belief that all human beings are good. Good they might be, but polite they certainly aren't. The next time someone tells me about Canadians being warm, happy, helpful and fuzzy people, I will. Laugh. In. Their. Faces. Long. And. Loud. Most people slam their doors right in my face. I stand there, mutter a few curses, wish I could set their house and fire, and obediently trot off to the next house where it happens. Again.

And again.

And again.

An infinity of slams can really ruin a girl's self-confidence. And yet a lot of my co-workers make a fuckload of money off this. My manager - hates his parents, Polish, somewhat addicted to the 'go get 'em' policy, very pale eyelashes and red hair - tells me not to worry. That the first few days are bound to be a hassle.

And while I nod and say ruefully, "Yeah, I know, I know," what I want to scream is, "HASSLE! HASSLE DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE THE FROTH FROTH FROTH."

The highlight of my day was when three little junior-high twats started following me and yelling, "Hey Phing! PHIIINNGG! Hey!" I ignored them. "Everytime there's an awkward silence, a gay baby is born! Everytime you masturbate a kitten gets killed! Just don't do it." Yadda, yadda.

I put up with it a couple of blocks, and then I turned and crossed the road to face them. I think my general phrasing was, idiotically, "You gotta problem with homosexuality or masturbation? You gotta problem with me? Don't fucking go there, you little fucking pricks because I've had a bad day and I could fucking take you all. It'd be a pleasure."

I kinda wish they'd swung at me because, you know that stupid beast in Harry?, mine was roaring, ready to go, ready to smash heads and rip skin and bite and kick and snarl and bleed.

This job isn't good for my sanity. I went and applied to be a babysitter on another job-search website.

Siiigh.

I'm sorry to keep whinging at you guys. It's just that I'm lonely and frightened and scared and stressed and lonely - so unfuckingbelievably lonely. Today was the first day of university. It was ghastly. I felt inferior and ill-equipped and uncomfortable and lost and my feet hurt.

And I really, really miss Cody. Every man I see in the distance with brown hair and a sloping walk could be him and everytime it's not, my heart twists and I'm pretty sure my face looking fucking stupid, doing that little lip wobble thing. It's not just people who look like Cody - it's anyone who reminds me of my friends. The back of their heads, a (stupid-looking) shirt they'd wear and I'm all cut up, all over again.

When does this stop?

I AM SO PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW I DO NOT WANT OR NEED THIS STRESS I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO MONTREAL I WANT TO HAVE TIME TO MYSELF TO HANDLE THE FACT THAT I'M GOING TO UNIVERSITY AND HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WHAT TEXTBOOKS TO GET ORIENTATION CLASSES WHAT WHAT WHAT YOUR FUCKING THIRTY-YEARS-AGO EXPERIENCE AT A BRITISH UNIVERSITY IS NO HELP AT ALL I AM TIRED OF BEING STRONG AND SENSIBLE I AM SICK OF BEING SOMEONE'S MOTIVATING FACTOR I FEEL LIKE A HOLOCAUST RIGHT NOW.

HATE. HATE. HATE.

One wedding ring found, no bride.

God, I'm a fucking idiot. I got into my first choice of university (Carleton, in Ottawa) but due to an idiotic superstition on my part, I neglected to apply for residence. Now I'm the hundredth person on the waitlist and unless smallpox arrives and kills those 130 people in front of me, I'm fucked. I know no one in Ottawa, my family knows no one in Ottawa - I need to find a place to rent, figure out so much shit --

-- Gah, my parents were right to send me away to study, that's for sure. I'm far too dependent on them, and now I'll have to rely on their amazing troubleshooting skills one more time. I need to find a place in Ottawa to live! Somewhere that's cheap, and near the university.

FuckfuckFUCK - how do you apartment hunt when you're 19038439573498 miles away and rather pathetic?!

THANKS, ASHES. I took a throwaway comment from yesterday's convo "I haven't seen some of your art is ages" - and stayed up till FOUR IN THE MORNING drawing and coloring. Well, actually. I was folding clothes for about two hours before I actually sat down with a pencil.

But if my art offends you and raises your hackles and makes you want to eat babies, go blame Ashlie. Throw dismembered toes at her. I'm in a creative mood, and have a bit of time, so expect to see a bit more of me than usual. Oh, and I've gotten my hands on a camera, so I might actually post pictures up once in a while. Photoshopped, of course.

( Read more... )

Oh, by the by, I'm going to get published. *picture that in your head, being said uber-casually, all suave and let's-examine-our-nails debonair*

( Read more... )

Honestly, where ARE you people? I shall find that dread beast Realus Lifeus and slay it for lo - it hath taken away the sunlight from mine life and the reason for my being! LOLZirSTALKERhArdc0re y/y? (I find it ironic that I make many more jokes in l33t - I believe it's termed? - when I'm no longer so active on the internet).

You know, I'd worry less if you updated more. I might as well warn you now, there will be random leaps of logic and wall o' texts to be found. Here's what I'm up to in point form, for the concerned but time-oppressed. I've bolded the necessary the central points. You can browse past the wallotexts.

1) Writing a fairy tale that I've imaginatively capped as 'The Sculptor and the Princess'. I suspect it will not have a happy ending. I'm discovering that I'm massively more thin-skinned when it comes to my fairy tales than to my normal bits of writing (I'm also working on my wish-fulfilment 'sucked into video game' fantasy novel that will rival the popularity of Hannah Montanna and Harry Potter COMBINED. ie: has its own fashion line and shipping wars. My ultimate form of fame; a Lolita murder mystery; and several other bits and pieces). I don't know why it is, but I suspect it's because to write a fairy tale, you have to strip away humor and characterization without which, your fancies are as naked as they come and it hurts more to have them poked. Either way, my story is a fun way for me to get out all that purple prose I never get to use. I'm enjoying the writing of it. Anyone interested in reading it and giving me only admiring comments? XD. I kid, I'm always up for concrit. It's a tenet my life is built around.

2) Grad is around the corner. In two weeks, to be exact. I've always suspected that with the scraping of coming-out balls, proms have to serve. In Chinese school, I had to sit at a table full of people I didn't know talking about their bleeding HAIR EXTENSIONS. FOUR HOURS of HAIR EXTENSIONS. Just so's you know, I'm not having any jiggerypokery with my hair, I'm probably just going to curl it and put it up in a bun and dye it pink. It'll match my gothic gown dontcherknow. Cody might get a limo and my mother'll be present at the ceremony and banquet if I graduate.

3) Otafest is coming up! That's the local nerdfest, for the nonCalgarians. I'm more excited about this than Grad, sad to say. I'm cosplaying, but you already saw enough of that.

4) I'm probably going to get fired from Subway. This is in direct relation to point 3. I told Mr. Huin a few weeks before that I couldn't work on Saturday, as that's when the fest is. Likewise my friend and my sister. He put all three of us down to work and when we complained, he told us that if we didn't like it, we could quit. So Jade and I wrote him a very polite note along the lines of "We told ya, ya fucker, we ain't gonna be there (you're still a fucker), tough luck ya fucker" and left it on the counter. We shall see how events pan out. I'd be pretty sad to lose that job as money runs out of my hands like water and I liked my coworkers. Oh well. The only thing I'm really afraid of now is if he fires just me (the note was in my handwriting). Jade and Himi - being mercenary sorts - are not likely to quit in defiant protest. The fuckers.

5) University. Am scared. Don't ask me if I got anything back yet, I haven't. My average is at about 79.6% and if I get my art mark up, it'll drop into a pretty little 80%. I'm still scared shitless I won't get in. ;_; At the very least, I've got a place at the local college reserved, so I can study journalism hands on there and then apply to Columbia or something.

That's about it. Not a long entry if you concentrated only on the bold. I'm going to go off an dream a little dream about sad endings.

PS: You lazy buggers could email me, yanno?

PPSS (or PPS? or PSS?): I miss ya guys. Take care!

And look what I have for you! Photos! Of me!

... okay, okay, I'll have something good for you. What do you want? My ovaries? A picture? My left little toe?

Look, don't gimme the "OMG KILLER PHOTO POST WRYYYY?" complaint. I think over my years on the internet, I've only posted up about... two photos of myself. Not counting the boob shot that ALEX TOOK WITHOUT TELLING ME AND AFTER I SHOWED HER MY DOG TOO THE JERK. *cough*

Anyway.

What boob pics?

Naw, these pics are all showcasing my horrifically nerdy side (most of the pics) and my terrible dress sense (one/two pictures). Recently, a bunch of friends forced me to cosplay as Lenalee from the series D.Grayman, so we all trooped off to the Devonian Gardens where everyone stared at us. There were more pictures than this - God forbid - but I only uploaded the ones with ME in 'em because I pride and flatter myself that this is what you guys are here for. If you really want, I'll load 'em all though.

( Read more... )

New word! 'Boogleguzzered' var. 'boozleguddered', 'boogleguddereded' is when you've been surfing the net for what seems like hours and you've resorted to delving into the deepest, most depraved parts of the internet (or LJ, in my case) and emerge feeling vaguely ill.

No, I'm not talking about fchan - I'm talking about some community called beautyandbitches or bitchybeauty or some variant upon those lines. It's basically a community where you are supposed to post pictures, fill in a fatuous application and be judged. Why anyone would want to have their self-worth ratified by other people who had to have their self-worth ratified by strangers on line is beyond me.

Am I using ratified right?

See, I watched 2girls1cup.com and laughed my way through it. Gali the Alligator and his puppetous rage had me in kinks of merriment. But this community just... it disgusted me and worse of all, it bored me. It's human nature at its petty worst. And some of the stuff they call humor?

...I'd rather watch my dog Roscoe eat his tail. Now that is funny. Attempting to tear someone apart because of their eyebrows, not so much. It's sad, a little pathetic and I wonder about anyone who applied to that place without a gun held to their head.

I mean, why?

I'm actually going to be reasonable about this movie. I mean, it's award-winning - that's sarcasm - and after all, it's wasn't that bad. I was disappointed, but I'm nearly always disappointed when it comes to movies.

To put it short, and to save your liddle fingys from having to kill themselves by clicking on the cut, this is my quick assessment: Juno is a movie about a different and alternative girl (we know she's alternative because she likes weird horror movies and music and wears plaid and jeans with no skirts ever, ever and probably doesn't wear panties - or heavens forbid, a thong - but boy shorts. You know the type of alternative - it's the one you see everyday) who gets pregnant and decides to give the kid up for adoption. It's a good movie if you're the type of person who has never thought about the pro-life/pro-choice debate, who has never given a real thought to teenage pregnancy other than 'oh, only sluts do it' or 'well, everyone's getting it on big deal'. It definitely might even inspire some thought - but I think that if you've battled it all out for yourself, read books and feminist forums and argued out some kinks in your head, then this movie seems overly simplistic.

I'm actually going to be vaguely coherent - or try to be - in this particular review because teenage pregnancy is a controversial topic that deserves more respect than Monsters in Manhattan (TM) and it's a subject important to me as well.

( LONG opinionated Opinions of Juno, Y HALO THAR SPOILERS )

End of my overload of opinion. Carry on

So, I never watch movies. Rarely watch TV and before you condemn me, I've pretty much stopped downloading illegal animes. I just get bored way too easily to sit down and watch pretty people run around in front of me and besides, when I'm reading, at least I can stop for a few minutes and fantasize about horny things or gothic lolita and not miss out on the bit where she's his half-sister's mother's cousin's ex-fiancee.

So when I do watch something - courtesy of my sisters who work in the movie business (albeit the concessions part of it) - I've usually been interested in its premise and eager to see how it's carried out. Or it has Alan Rickman and/or sudden scenes of song

This, dear Reader, is where you come in.

Disclaimer: These opinions you read are purely subjective. There will be offensive humor and US-bashing, but there's always US bashing.

( My exceedingly opinionated opinion of Cloverfield. HERE BE SPOILERS. )

I've also watched Juno, so will be posting up a review of that movie later. So you know and can take me off your f-list for a bit.

How the hell do people type like this? I don't get it. It took me ages just to come up with my title!

But anyway, happy birthday, Nadia! I haven't been able to talk to you in months - you're very seldom on. But nevertheless, I want to wish you happy your-poor-mother-in-nine-hours-of-labor-screaming-in-pain-surrounded-by-blood day!

I've changed my journal layout, because - and no offense to Alex because she did a gorgeous job - all that relentless fucking PINK was grinding against my behind. And what do I do but go pink anyway? I wanted the purple layouts, but none of them appealed to me so much as the one I'm using now.

For a person who's so much on the PC, I'm completely useless at Photoshop and HTML and all that other good stuff. Quite embarassing, really.

I know I say this everytime, but I miss you guys. It's not an embarassingly mushy, OMGHUGGGSYRUIGNORINGMEEE kinda-missing, it's more like a brief, sharp tang like a kiss goodbye: I don't just miss the lot of you, I miss everything you represented as well. It was fun laughing at how the evil RL would take time away from us; it was fun - in a not so fun way- waking up at six to talk to all of you at the same time. But I know that we've all moved onwards and upwards and thoughts like these really only occur to me when I log on my MSN - invisible, of course, just like the rest of you buggers - and no one is on.

But anyway guys, and especially Nadia, take care, y'hear?

First of all, you'd hear a long, gusty sigh. Or rather: SIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHH.

I don't know why, but I'm feeling more depressed lately. I know full well that that's wrong and not my place in the world. I'm designated comedic relief and really, I'm quite happy with that because it means it's my job to always crawl out of the hole and help other people out of their holes (or in deeper down, you know how it goes with comedic relief sometimes).

I don't know Idon'tknowIdon'tknowanythinganymore.

I'm getting random anxiety attacks - if you can call the sudden tightening in my chest, sense of black doom descending, feeling of impotence that not Viagra can fix (if Viagra worked on weemens, that is), and complete isolation anxiety attacks. They're not really that bad, and they last for about five minutes but they're coming in increased fluxes now.

Did I use that word right?

Firstly, I miss people. I miss friends; I miss having long, convoluted conversations with people I care about, who care about me, and things we care about too. But I know it's not fair to impose my neediness on other people's lives. Cody's great, as he always is and I'm grateful to have someone like that near me and looking out for me; but as a child of many bad teenlit books and a dad who does divorce cases, I'm aware that someday that connection will have to be severed. And sometimes, even though he doesn't mean to, he adds to that sense of anxiety I have:

It's so strange, really. Why is it that, while presumably, your partner with is supposed to be the most trustworthy and unwilling-to-hurt-you-of-all, the media manages to portray it so that you HAVE to put them and their needs before yourself? Whereas with friends, they're supposed to understand and give you space when you brush them off to study, or something and you're not supposed to feel guilty about it? Where did that complex come from?

I blame Cosmo, personally. Stupid pile of glossy, gossipy, addictive shite that it is.

I'm sorry if I'm not being very articulate at this point, I feel like a raging mass of NOTSOGOOD. It's not that I don't love Cody still, or that he's not important to me, I just feel like now is not the right time. I wish I could have met him four years down the road because he's an utterly brilliant first relationship and Year 12 is an utterly heinous, depressing, stressful year.

Do I make any sense at this point?

Secondly, I need to get into university. My parents will kill me if I don't - the very idea of not getting into a university makes my head spin and induces one of those horrible five minutes. And applying to universities is soul-sapping and I feel I'm not good enough, will never be good enough and GODS but the process is complicated!

In the end, I know I'll make it through because I've no other choice, but the uncertainty kills me and will continue to kill me till I get that goddamn acceptance letter. I feel so powerless right now, and confused and very childish... I'm scared I can't do it, and scared of failure and of showing my parents just how useless I really am.

Gods, and I can't write now, at all. Bugger, blast and boobs. Right at this very moment, I'd rather be an orphan, in a horrible relationship, with no friends, as long as I could be guaranteed a place in Carlton's English programme.

And writing this has not made me feel very much better, mostly because I feel like I can't write.

I realise that I haven't written anything in a while - not just here, but my diary, fanfics, RP and even the dreaded emo poetry haven't had a lookin for a bit. I sorely lament this fact, I think my writing is going down the drain for it. Anyway, a brief update on my life'n times (copped off an email to Nadia. Yes. I copy'npaste. I'm that lazy):

Life's been somewhat... hectic lately, and not entirely in a good way, is why. University drama, dad drama - yesterday during a huge lecture just before I went over to see Cody, he called me an Asian slut chasing after white guys (in reference to Cody), told me that Cody was probably tired of me going over to his house, that Cody's mom probably thought I was a slut; either that or she was using me as a tutor for Cody. All true, no exaggeration. I escaped the house and cried at the bus-stop (it was freezing, by the way. I do not recommend dramatics in winter that involve water) and then for about another two hours in Cody's house while he held me very manga-esquely and then fed me bacon. That's what I've been up to, basically

That's a slice of home-life for all you folks out there. I'm feeling much better now, though it seemed like the end of the world at the bus-stop. I still feel a bit shaken, but life goes on and people have it worse than I do, so no worries.

I'm really, really sorry if I haven't gotten the opportunity to talk to any of you lately. I miss you.

My apologies for not being around. Crisises (is that the right plural?) have arose and moved on and then new ones boomed out of the surface like that movie I once watched - the one with huge cannibal worms that moved about underground and gave me nightmares. The movie, that is. Not the worms themselves.