Cette annee:

2009

[PEOPLE]
best friends: Ryan, Kaylie, Hannah, Rachel
lost any friends: yes.
gained any friends: yes.


[PLACES]
went out of the country: yes.
how many times on an airplane: 4.
[YOU]
have you changed: yes. maybe. not sure. less than last year, I think.
new look: technically, my hair color has returned to how it was last January. Which is weird.
most depressed time this year: August...A bit of November...Pretty happy year, I think.

best time this year: Spring, probably. Yes. The end of school. April, May, June.

[LOVE]
did you get heartbroken: no. Not in a boy sense, at least.
who was your summer love: Ryan.

[SEASONS]
favorite Season: Spring!
least favourite: Winter.

[FINAL QUESTIONS]
got arrested: No. Only stopped by the police in Cuba. EEE.

had a crush: is it called that anymore?
got dumped: no. well, by rachel a few times. but she loves me. probably.

lost a family member: yes.
got bad grades: mmm...probably a bit. but its me, so, you know. 
got a myspace: no. far too confusing. and american.
kept a secret: probably. 
told a secret: yes.
snuck out: no. i'd be too frightened to wander hawkwood's hostile nighttime streets.
gotten in trouble: yes.
done something you totally regret: yes, a few.

In 2009 I... 

[  ] broke a promise.
[x] made a new best friend.
[  ] fallen out of love.
[x] lied.
[ ] went behind your parents back.
[ ] cried over a broken heart.
[x] disappointed someone close.
[x] hid a secret.
[x] pretended to be happy.
[x] kissed in the rain.
[x] slept under the stars.
[ ] kept your new years resolution.
[x] forgot your new years resolution.
[x] met someone who changed my life.
[ ] met one of your idols.
[x] changed your outlook on life.
[ ] sat home all day doing nothing.
[x] pretended to be sick.
[x] left the country.
[ ] almost died.
[ ] given up something important to you.
[ ] lost something expensive.
[x] learned something new about yourself.
[x] tried something you normally wouldn't try and liked it.
[x] made a change in your life.
[x] found out who your true friends were.
[x] met great people.
[ ] stayed up until sunrise.
[ ] pigged out over the summer.
[x] cried over the silliest thing.
[x] got into a car accident.
[x] had friends who were drifting away from you.
[x] had someone close to me die.
[x] had a high cell phone bill.
[ ] wasted most of my money on food.
[ ] had a fist fight.
[x] went to the beach.
[ ] saw a celebrity.
[x] gotten sick.
[ ] liked more than 5 people at the same time.
[x] became closer to a lot of people

With 2008 coming to an end have you:

1. Have you had any relationships this year? yes. only a few, though. haha..
2. Have you had your birthday yet? yes.
3. Cried yet? yes.
4. Been on a diet? only a diet of supernatural and berry smoothies...

5. Pulled an all nighter? I'm bad at those, usually we (whoever we is, respectively) fall asleep around 2 or 3...actually, in cuba we did. yes.
6. Drank Starbucks? yes. eggnog lattes with kaylie = peace on earth.
7. Went Camping? yes. with kaylie! that wasn't camping, though. that was trailering and talking around a campfire until 4-ing. <3
8. Bought something(s)? yes.
9. Met someone special? yes, i have. not in the usual special sense though, ryan's been around too long for meeting this year...

10. Been out of province? yes.
11. What are you thinking about? dry eyes, contact lenses, seeing kaylie, hugging ryan. doing this again next year.

12. Hugged someone? yes.
13. Slept in someone elses bed? yes. many a person's, considering my parents left me for awhile...kaylie's heated mattress. =D
14. Got a job? yes.

15. Loaned out money? no.

16. Gotten in a car accident? small one.
17. Gone over your cell phone bill? ....only a little...
18. Been called a whore? don't think so.
19. Done something you regret? yes. but not too many things. here i come.


2010

Une histoire

"...When I saw you dancing that day, I saw something else. I saw a new world coming rapidly. More scientific, efficient, yes. More cures for the old sicknesses. Very good. But a harsh, cruel world. And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind of world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go. That is what I saw. It wasn't really you, what you were doing, I know that. But I saw you and it broke my heart. And I've never forgotten."

-Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

C'est le temps de ramasser:

It is time to clean up. Clean up after everything is all done with 2009.
I have to say, Christmas was a quite grand affair here in Edmonton. I got to see both halves of my family, as well as receieve beautiful gifts, as well as eat enough to counter all the progress I made on my Wii Fit. I love Christmas, and half the fun is in the extensive build-up, and the Boxing Day shopping; so here I come, mall...

More to come.

<3

Bonhommes de neige

Ah, Christmas in Alberta.
You know, it's probably one of the better places to have Christmas.
As much as I dislike the cold, it really lacks in Christmas-ness when there is no snow...
Regardless.

Accomplishments of this week (so far):
- Watched Thumbelina (highlight of my week, almost better than Christmas.)
- Gotten pretty presents from my boyfriend/best friend
- Watched a frustratingly cheesy and undeniably awesome musical with Hannah and Kaylie
- Spent many an hour on Wii fit trying to be not fat for when I go back to dance
- Sang a lot
- Bugged Ryan
- Gone Christmas shopping

Actually, I thought that list was going to be a lot shorter and more interesting than it was.

Bizarre Thought Du Jour:
If you die in a motorcycle accident, but you really like motorcycles, will you have motorcycles in heaven?

Tout c'que je veux...

La paix, dans la monde
Et mon coeur
Et dans ma famille...

Does anyone remember that song?
Musical awesome.
From Kidnergarten on.


So, I love Christmas. I love the lights, and the trees, and the lights on the trees, and the cookies (although I am eating too many of them), and the boyfriends by the trees with lights on them, and the presents under the trees by the boyfriends with lights on them (the trees, not the boyfriends), and the lazy fatness, and the things like that. And the Christmas carols, and movies, and time for painting again, as well as watching How I Met Your Mother online non-stop, and the return of the sisters, and the fairy doll Katie gave me, and how my bangs are starting to look less funny for the holidays. Did I mention the cookies? Om, nom, nom...
Also, did I mention how much I agree with Rachel Schneider's blog about stupid people? Lately, Rachel Schneider and I have been increasingly bitter towards a large portion of the world. This is a product of the catalyst called 'Chemistry', a reaction that should be averted at all times. You see, our teacher drives us crazy. So does the world. Astrid agrees with us. (So we MUST be right.) When she is the communist leader of Cuba, she will use her worldly influence and her nuclear weapons (which she will have attained through non-chemical ways) to abolish chemistry from the curriculums, school boards, minds, and hearts of this dreary population. It is going to happen.
But that doesn't matter. Well, it does.
But more to the point:
Christmas.
Last night, there was an Abe Music Christmas Party. Needless to say, it was awesome.
Today, I put in my contacts without them pinching or poking or dancing in my eye. Needless to say, they too are feeling the Christmas spirit.
Also, I vacuumed my room for what seems like the first time in about a year. Needless to say, that's gross, but I'm still alive, therefore proving the point that cleanliness is NOT next to godliness, and really just not all it's cracked up to be. What-EVER.

Anyways. It is far too late for such a senior citizen as me, but I figured I owed it to the 3 possibly 4 people who read my blog to do an update. Go me.
Also, Go Team. Also, Go Ryan, because he's funny.

(5 days and 1 hour.)

Nuage

Reason # 43:


Because when you think I can't see you looking at me, I can. And it makes me feel wonderful.

Et puis...

I don't want you to worry.


I love you too much.

La vie d'un glacon...

It's cold outside.

But it's NOT miserable.
Now, I hate being cold. It is like, the thing I hate most in this world, other than monkeys, chemistry teachers who do not set good examples, chemistry finals set by chemistry teachers who do net set good examples, and people who start their cars 10 minutes before they get in them just so that they will not have to suffer to agony of sitting in a cold car for tops, 2 minutes, and who are thus setting bad examples.
As I am on this topic, like, What The Hell. I cannot believe my chemistry teacher would tell us to remind him to go start his car when there was 10 minutes left in the period. People who do this are completely ignorant, self-absorbed, and generally smelly in a general sort of way. Especially people who, under further questioning, conclude that they do so because "They don't care." Rachel Schneider, I told my father about this incident and how everyone thought we were being unbelievably anal, and how Kieran told us that it was bad for the car to start it in cold weather and immediately drive it. Well, guess what, world, my father the mechanical engineer says NOT.
So you know what, world? SHUT OFF YOUR ENGINES.
(But not your furnaces. It is cold in this house.)

I have to admit, though, it is not that miserable outside- it is sunshining and sparkling and as long as I am not out IN the snow, I really have no qualms with it. What I am having repeated difficulties is this: recently, I was bored and decided, while watching How I Met Your Mother online, to doodle complex and haphazard motifs on my keyboard where my hand would rest while I am typing. Now, everytime I am typing, I get pen on me. This is ridiculous, especially because I have no Kleenex in my room to wipe it off with, because I ran out of Kleenex about 2 months ago.

The repetitive story of Kleenex boxes in Lyndsay's room:
- Dire need for Kleenex (i.e. more than half of my face covered in mascara, my arm is physically separated from my body and I need to stem the blood until the time that platelets aka thrombocytes react with thrombin, Ca ions, and vitamin K to produce fibrin threads over my open wound and catch erythrocytes and bacteria in its web and commence clotting. Go Biology.)
- Theft of Kleenex box from another part of the house
-Happy usage of aforementioned Kleenex for about a week
-Run out of Kleenex
-First reminder to fetch a new box: ignored
-Second reminder to fetch a new box: ignored
-Third reminder to fetch a new box: evaded
-Dire need for Kleenex

And that is how it goes.

My current pet peeve: PEOPLE COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW BUSY THEY ARE. Unless they legitimitely are, in which case I whine with them , instead of at them. Because I AM way too busy right now, under a lot of stress physically/emotionally/mentally, and am going insane. Like this conversation I had.
Lyndsay: No, I was just way too busy for this past month, I'm kind of glad I didn't do it.
Unnamed Unspeakable: I know what you mean! Same for me a few years ago.
Lyndsay: (Curses and judges U.U in her mind because she knows this is a lie. I have always disliked you, U.U)

Unless you dance or do other physical activities every day after school, are in grade 10 piano (which you may be skivving off of because YOU DONT HAVE TIME) as well as sing, come home and do homework until midnight because you have two sciences, english ap and social studies in french this semester, and then wake up at 6:00 am, and then not get to sleep in for the past 2 months even on weekends, STOP COMPLAINING.
Yes, I am a nasty, grumpy, terrible person.

Happy Holidays.
(Oh, GOD, soon, soon...)

Je ne peux pas voir la lumiere.

Today:

I'm not afraid of anything.

To you, and you, and you you, and you...
 :I love you.
:I miss you.
:You're driving everyone crazy.
:I wish I was more like you.
:I can't make myself a hypocrite.
:You are a spectacular friend.
:I wish I knew you a little better, could relate to you a little more.
:I wish I didn't, but I do.

La pluie au planete

Sometime, I would like to hear you say my name with the same reverance-
To admire one of my distinct qualities
That You Don't See

you're not looking

Meme les artichauds ont des coeurs...

The most beautiful and overwhelming feeling in the world;
So much emotion over a period of so little time.
Ah, and time, that beautiful, terrible thing.
And friends, those wonderful, wonderful, smiling eyes and hearts.
And songs, and families, curly hair.

I used to look just like her.

I don't like cheese, I don't like pity, because I had such a stunningly impassioned weekend, both with good and bad, epiphanic and inspirational and crashing.
To a choir that used to be tone deaf; let us forge through our new-found pitch together, with ease and without hesitation. Also, let me thank you for having one of the most beautiful experiences I will ever have with music, with life, and with people that matter. I can't describe the feeling of 60-some voices rushing over me from widened smiles, and if you were judging me for doing such a terrible job, for hiding it. Maybe it wasn't that big a deal for you, but for the ten minutes I was conducting that 1 overwhelmingly intense song, I felt like I was amidst some sort of heavenly, heavenly storm. Of perfectly joyous and heart-breaking sound.

I used to look just like her.

My friends are beautiful.

I miss something that I don't recognize.

Belle hirondelle

I do.

Pourquoi mes titres sont toujours en francais?

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there,
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the sweet-tasting autumn rain
When you awake in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of birds circling in flight
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand on my grave and weep…
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
-Mary Frye

Les nouvelles

Things I have discovered:

- I do not work well under stress and lack of sleep.
- I really like water color paints
- I have mixed feelings about my hair and Allison's hair cream
- I have mixed feelings about my English teacher
- The hugs I get from my boyfriend keep me going
- I eat too much oatmeal
- I don't know the difference between right and left
- I may be steadily going blind from peroxide-eye contact
- My room is still a mess, and it is making me even more upset
- There is no bread in my house
- I may chomp on you
- I HATE BEING COLD
- I love to sing.

Le soleil

How many villages could we save?

Sunshine Song by Jason Mraz.

Today, I hate; English questions. My hair. How dirty my room is. English questions. English teacher. Being tickled. The fact that everyone gets to sleep in today except me. The fact that I don't get to stay at home tonight or the next day. The perpetually dry gray sky and cold wind. ENGLISH QUESTIONS. Also, how do you post pictures?

On the flip side; Boyfriend. My new watercolor paints. My housecoat. The things I get to eat for lunch. Jason Mraz and John Mayer. Christmas is approaching. Hannah, who I am venting(ish) at. How I am alone. A break from English questions.

Pendant que j'attends pour Supernatural de charger...

Sam and Dean Winchester, rolling along
In their '67 Chevy Impala
Killing beasties and ghosties and demons and stuff
But never in Guatemala.

Their mom was killed in a nursery fire:
Their father was a big jerk
Who sacrificed himself at the beginning of Season two,
And that made Dean go berserk.

But before Season two, there was Season one,
Where Sam had really cute hair
It's still pretty cute, like the rest of him too,
Even when he starts getting psychic nightmares.

Now comes Season 2, where Dean is angsty,
And Sam really wants to talk about feelings,
But once they do, Sam gets done in,
And Dean does some demon dealings.

Season 3, where Dean is angsty,
But understandably, because he's going to Hell,
And Bobby gets sadly unappreciated
And Sam and Dean rent a large number of motels.

Sam goes kind of crazy in Season four,
Providing for angst (and demon sex)
And then the Apocalypse kind of gets under way
You know what rhymes with sex? Tyrannosaurus rex.

But there are no dinosaurs in Supernatural (yet)
Only cute boys who hunt evil stuff
And that makes them cuter, and also just awesome,
As well as ridiculously buff.

Les etudes sociales.

Social studies, directly defined as the most boring subject ever, except I really like it now because I am getting 91, and we spend a lot of time in the library 'researching' projects but really being on facebook and watching A Very Potter Musical or writing mindless blogs, is presently happening.
I think that instead of researching the World Wildlife Fund I will research actual social things, like people, because when I think social I think people, so I will now conduct a study on the people around me.

Kaylie and Eric Haynes are nurturing their secret love affair by sharing a moment watching A Very Potter Musical (for the umpteenth time, in Kaylie's case.) I am watching her mouth the words. She is funny because she does that a lot and makes silly expressions on her face. But I forgive her because I do it too and that is why we are best friends. Eric Haynes is looking contemplative, as per usual. If he were a famous statue, he would be The Thinker, and Kaylie would not. Kaylie would not be a statue because, like me, nobody could make her into a statue because she is always dancing around like a hooligan, or watching A Very Potter Musical, evidently.
(I would like to note how sad it is that even though I cannot hear what is happening in the aforementioned musical playing on the computer next to mine, I still know exactly word-for-word what they are saying/singing.) (Almost.)

Megan is being responsible! It's crazy! When is Megan ever responsible! Or responsable, which is the word I just substituted for responsible, because French is plaguing my brain with a disease, where I don't even get any of the cool French traits, like wine and cheese and being in France, I only get the smelly French things, like speaking in French. It's actually kind of funny because she is sitting right next to me and not even noticing I am talking about her. She is looking up things to do with the Olympics. I am concluding this is because in her spare time she is a famous figure skater/alpine skiier/something else you do in the cold. And she is preparing. Because she is a preparer. Now.

Tessa is also being responsible? What on earth is this blasphemy? I think I am dreaming. Because Eric Haynes, Kaylie and I are doing everything but working, while those two are. Psychotic!

Someone whose name I forget is asking us what the first words that came to our heads was. She is asking this over and over and over again and the words coming to my head are more and more often annoying irritating and murder.

Her name has been revealed to be Kelsey. She and her friends laughed at me when I told them 'panda'. What is wrong about thinking about pandas, is what I want to know? Someone has to think of the pandas. And I am doing it. I get things done. I solve problems. Thats what me and Rachel do. We are problem solvers. Or something.

I am getting really jealous that I am not watching A Very Potter Musical. I'm going to go cry...and eat my sandwich.

Until next time.

OH, also, my social teacher is leaving. That sucks. Because, as mentioned before, he gave me 91. Also, he hands out scratch and sniff stickers. What teacher still does that in grade 11? Also, because Eric Haynes and I are the best students ever, we get squishy chairs. Also, my boyfriend sits in the same squishy chair as me in his social class, which restores my faith (that was never lost) that we are meant to be together. Why else would the forces of the universe facilitate elementary school note passing between us? Why?
I can never go back to normal chairs.

Aux peuples plus talentes que moi...

will take, the chain off of the door...

Awesome talent show! It made my faith in humanity definitely restore itself!
(Because it was lost before. Now, not so much.)
(Plus my boyfriend is cute.)

Ahem.

Kiss a wookie.

L'ecriture creative...

Ah, creative writing...

Jenny and Raymond were having a good night, if one’s definition of a good night included the mass consumption of alcohol, hallucinogenics, and other incapacitating substances. They had made a vow to become the most drunken, disorderly, lawless, rambunctious and completely obstreperous people in each bar they could not remember attending. It was questionable as to why they were doing this, because everyone knows that it is dangerous to one’s health and is putting at risk your life, and other bodily functions. It is one of the most important lessons you will ever learn in any academy, school, internet site, or on a bathroom stall wall or other reliable source. It is a lesson almost as crucial to understand as the lesson about how time-travelling is impossible and books or stories or creative writing projects based upon such fanciful and clichéd topics are bound to be gag-worthy if not just suitably unrealistic and unappetizing.
Upon a taxi ride home so uncomfortable for the poor driver that all his plans for suicide were reassured, Jenny and Raymond stumbled into their small, cheap, yet somehow snazzy New York apartment. The reason for this snazzy apartment is not revealed in this story, just like it never is in any stories or television shows, because it is impossible for all these broke people in New York to still have such snazzy apartments, sort of like how it is impossible for the subject of time-travel to be written about from a serious angle, because it is so overdone and completely contrary to reason.
Unsurprisingly, Jenny and Raymond collapsed almost immediately onto the floors of their snazzy New York apartment. Not only did this cause Jenny to hit her head so hard on the side of an alien spacecraft 6 times the size of any door, window or other aperture appearing to the naked eye within the snazzy apartment, but upon bearing witness to the blood gushing from the wound on his dear friend’s head, Raymond was sent into an alcohol, marijuana and gross-induced coma-like state so deep we can only classify his sights observed within this state as absurd, preposterous, fictitious and wholly untrue.
Raymond awoke to find himself staring face to face with the results of alcohol poisoning on his good friend Jenny. Sickened to his stomach, he rolled over and off the bed on which he was suspiciously lying on. (Suspiciously for we may remember, quite clearly, the two inebriated friends deflating ungraciously upon the floor- but then again, we may also recall that we cannot trust anything observed in Raymond’s dream-like state). As he inelegantly belched and toppled onto a sceptically snazzy carpet, he was at once confronted with an interesting conundrum- for at the foot of the bed in which a very repulsive human female was resting was a machine that appeared to be buzzing uncontrollably, with epileptic flashing lights (two characteristics common to make-believe machines) that shared certain similarities with a refrigerator. Proving that the theory of Pavlov’s dogs is, indeed, practiced by the distinguished humans of the 21st century, Raymond eagerly and sloppily lumbered over to the mystery machine.
When the door appeared to be immovable by even such a force as an overtly hung-over and drooling man, Raymond did what any sensible male of our fine era does when confronted with an unsolvable problem; they ask a woman to do it for them. Usually the woman can unravel and untangle the dilemma, because evolution made women into finer, more intelligent and primarily superior beings than men. Understandably, men, who are more primitive and less complex thinkers then women, tried to force women for thousands of years into submission because they didn’t like people beating them at gambling and horse races. We can see this male close-mindedness especially throughout the Middle Ages and continuing on through the Renaissance. In fact, one could ALMOST say it is a main contrasting component that sets apart the Renaissance from nowadays. One could observe such a fact without even HAVING to travel back in time to the Renaissance. Imagine that.
Upon prodding Jenny most unceremoniously, she was evidently able to open the door of the flashing machine. It is one of humankind’s many faults that they have become unfortunately, dismally, grievously and, lamentably, stupid- and go opening the doors of many a flashing, beeping machine, when they really could have done without. Alas, without the ironic developed stupidity during an age of innovation and mind-blowing scientific inventions, there would be no cause for stories or creative writing projects about the many facets of time-travel and all its irregularities, so what can you do.
Stupidity is an ironic virtue much celebrated in this Age of Science, but during the Renaissance, stupidity, or the excuse ‘primitivism’ was being surrendered for common sense, inquisitiveness, and humanism. This was a term coined by a group of Renaissance-ers to celebrate the natural human curiosity towards arts, sciences, and literature for people of all statuses and levels of wealth. They glorified for the first time the sense that everyone was worthy to be educated and pursue thought; they explored a freedom of choice not considered in the Medieval Ages. They started to revel in individualism.
And then, of course, we have the after-effects of such epiphanies; in our own common society, our lack of curiosity and motivation in this age of enlightenment and technology is simply depressing. Many of the citizens in a Renaissance society would probably be shocked at this absence of interest in such an era; they would be astounded that many a person cares not for how their television works and where the power originates from, just that it does work. In fact, one might go so far as to suggest that the forward thinkers of the Renaissance would be practically insulted to bear witness to where their original innovations for society have plummeted to; thank goodness there is no such thing as time travel and they could never have done that.
“Maybe,” remarked Jenny, a wise member of the female half of society, “we should not further investigate this decidedly dangerous and imaginary machine, Raymond. It has a lot of buttons and flashing lights, and I think if we continue on we may get sucked into a wormhole, the only hypothesized but still highly implausible way of time-travelling.”
“But Jenny!” whined Raymond. “My Y chromosome is demanding me to press those big macho buttons! And also, you must remember that probably none of this is real anyways so it’s alright because we will wake up in our snazzy New York apartment if we get maimed or killed!”
Jenny decided that she had might as well agree, because Raymond’s logic that this wasn’t really happening was awfully convincing, and she could give in without feeling horrible about herself because this wasn’t really happening. So, after only pausing to overdose on Advil, (another sure piece of evidence of the unreality the two friends were finding themselves within), Jenny and Raymond stepped into the whirring machine that it is evident by now they assumed to be a time machine.
“Good Lord!” cried Raymond, stepping out of the time machine. “I have no idea where we are, but there are not very many large and modern buildings.”
“I know where- or when- we are,” said Jenny. “It is obvious to me by the way that everyone is dirty and unhygienic, theology and humanism is developing, (although blind faith within God and the church still exists), people are watching plays written by William Shakespeare, lower class individuals are becoming more privvy and scrutinizing of thought, study, science, and religion, art is delving deeper into realms of interpretive and thoughtful imitation, and I can not understand anyone even though they are essentially speaking English; they must be utilizing one of the hundreds of different dialects within each country due to the fact that structured education of 1 single dialect hasn’t yet been developed amongst the peasants, that this time period is the Renaissance.”
“I think if someone from our time were to try and live in the Renaissance they would still be very confused about the lack of television, Jenny,” observed Raymond intellectually.
“Not to mention,” Jenny concluded, “That the majority of our 21st century population wouldn’t be able to survive in a world where people have to actually think, weigh options, and consider consequences. You, Raymond, are a fine example of a human from our era of automisation; without something or someone providing for you, you wouldn’t be able to function. We have become so used to the technologies we use each day that without them, our world would fall apart. It is just a typical irony that in our “advanced” society, full of bright and intelligent young minds (that may or may not be wasted by alcohol and drugs before achieving their potential), we completely abandon hard-working philosophies for an easy route aided and abetted through technology. We do not even wonder how things work anymore, as long as they do; as long as the work gets done, (preferably not by us), the means are trivial. Whether these means be truly astounding in their prodigal technology or not, we prefer to not have to lift a finger rather than try to understand what is completely available to us. Humanity has lost its curiosity, and I believe that that is the main element which sets our society apart from that of the Renaissance.”
“You’re probably right,” Raymond ascertained. It is unfortunate that after such an epiphanic conclusion Jenny has made about humankind in this state of unreality, that an angry mob of 16th century villagers intent on hunting down witches has congregated behind our duo of time travellers, but alas, this is the fate that meets all who travel into the non-existent. You get poked which pitchforks and burnt. Regrettably, amongst the prodigious scientists, philosophers, artists and humanists of the Renaissance, there were also those (usually of the Crazy Catholic Society, which originated around the evolution of amoebas and continues on to this day) who believed in burning intelligent people, or people they just didn’t like. There will always be a few crazies, I guess, like those who believe that time travel can be taken seriously and written upon as a topic equally as seriously. What can you do?

Ce n'est pas la fin du monde.

'To die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die.'

Ode to english class. Bejesus, it made my day today; thank you, Allison and Hannah, for just letting me blow out at you for my crap weekend.

Also, bring my boyfriend soup. He is sick. Let us pray it is not of the 'piggy variety', as he says.

Vous etes tot.

Plucking my eyebrows makes me sneeze.


"The sea is just a wetter version of the sky."

Moi, je ne suis pas un lama.

...but I am other things. Today. These are the things that have made me who I am today- and I mean, really, today, not some cheesy inspirational 'today' as in me as a whole person, just 'today' why I am the person I was.

Ryan's sweater; made me warm through the night, which allowed me to wake up only a little bit less than rested, completely un-hypothermic, and as content as could be expected. The sweater was there to keep me from frostbite because my room is FREEZING cold for the remainder of the day.

Kaylie; a) because of her oatmeal recipe that I love and cherish and it's not even really a recipe, its just two ingredients (you guess what they are), but I did not know how to make it, and it is the best thing for a warm wakeup to a bound-to-be bad day, other than her heated mattress, but that's another story. and b) because I woke up and she had texted me and it made me fill with euphoria all the way to the bottom of the stairs.

Ryan; because he had sent me a picture of him to enjoy in the morning.

...in a scottish hat.
...with clothes on, for god's sake.

Apple Lime juice; there is no other type of juice, more worthier of the name juice, than you. Actually, probably you should not be called juice, but something even better, because you do not belong in the same category as other juices.

Supernatural: because you kept me entertained at your pretty boyness and your clever little supernaturalities. Holy cow in heck, supernaturality is a word, it doesn't say it's wrong with that silly little red line! Okay, that is another way you made my day. And also because its made me scared of everything. Like being close to trees, in a car, on a full moon.
Ahem.

Pumpkin cookies: are delicious.
Wool and cotton; make good decorations, especially when exhibited in a plastic bag, labelled Wool and Cotton, and pinned to a wall or simply placed on a table.

Ryan's grandmother, who forgot her coloring book.

Coconut lime handcream,
(as always)

Carrotsticks,
(as recently always)

and potato salad and kites, and also very expensive hooker earrings, and the undersides of tables.

That's all for today, folks.

Est-ce que je peux te trouve au fin du monde?

This is the season for dreaming.

When you are set apart from a world, you can no longer relate to it or properly fit in; time and space are always moving, always changing, and as you are as well, your shape is not accentuated in the chasm you used to fill. No matter how hard you try, things are different. People may not change, but they will always believe you have changed. This is the unchanging nature of people.
Old times cannot become renewed; they are then renewed times and not the old times in the first place. New times and experiences round and shape a character, but it does not change the essence of people.

A constant is there no matter what and willing to work harder to keep the gap you left the exact same shape and size as when you left.

And yet, I could not imagine leaving and returning to test it out, for fear we would have swollen with tears.

Les yeux

How clearly can we see an approaching object? How acutely can we sense an awkward, tense moment? How audibly can we hear a bitter or half-hearted whisper?

How can we properly understand a word we can only comprehend from our own standing point?

I've noticed it's only when I think too much I doubt myself, or others. If I stopped being highly critical, if I stopped when I knew I was about to say something I would regret, if I stopped feeling like compromising or forgiving was giving in, I would feel like I like feeling, and not like an angst-ridden teenager.

Je n'aime pas les mercredis...

Usually, I love Wednesdays. It makes me feel like I have hugely surpassed an enormous obstacle, or something, but today, I just felt totally out of it, and I have narrowed down the possible causes of my disagreeable state of mind to the following;

1) Did not get tea or coffee this morning, resulting in a change of my routine of needing to go to the bathroom 5 times in the morning. The omission of these repeated bladder-related absences made me sit all the way through my classes, without any breaks at all, which is a very ridiculous proposition, all in all. Plus, the water in my water bottle tasted stale. Which is frustrating when I had just filled it up. Which leads me to believe that there is something chemically not correct with the water that comes from the school's taps and/or water fountains; which leads me to believe we are all slowly being poisoned which LEADS ME TO BELIEVE that we are all going to lined up and shot by employed primates to solve the population crisis while we are all dopey off of stale water!

2) Rachel was listening to A Very Potter Musical in Chem today but she was sitting on the other side of Astrid and I therefore couldn't (why is the computer brain telling me that is not how you spell couldn't, I am positive that couldn't is a word, what the fudge) (actually because I just said fudge my day has gotten a lot better- too bad it will be over in an hour an a half. "...If you fudging touch me one more time I'm going to fudging kill you...!" -Dean Winchester while his blood is being extracted from his arm by a Pagan god) listen and sing and comment obnoxiously on the contents of this ingenious piece of musical literacy. I believe that because I haven't yet had the chance to listen to even a snippet of 'Pigfarts' my mind is actually going into a state of inequilibrium.
Also, in Chem, we were first promised to play rounds of Balderdash, but obviously Mr. Doak is confused about that game, because what we really played was guess the definition, which was, although enjoyable, not as gratifying as Balderdash. Also, I learned a word that meant completely inept at all things, which I was much excited to add to my vocabulary of words I can insult people with without them realizing/throwing heavy objects at me, and now I do not remember the word. Only the definition.

3) My boyfriend continues to lie and decieve himself every day. First off, he starts a blog and lets the world know that he is called sometimes 'Ranger Danger Douglas'. His name is Ryan, and I keep telling him as much, Ryan Douglas McKay, Ryan Douglas McKay, and he never believes me, and I fear the more he lies the more he is selling his soul to the devil. And I don't want him to go to hell. I am that selfless.

4) I had another point, but I do not recall what it was; forgetting things makes me resent memory at all. Because if it is not there to help us recall these trivial matters to publish in our blogs, then what is it there for at all?

Also, I am not carnivorous. Simply convivial.

Les choses qui me fait content...

Carrot sticks to feed my tapeworm; today I ate about 40 carrot sticks, each of them from the same package of 'Bunny Love' carrot sticks. You'd think my eyesight would be better. But let me tell you, it's not; so your parents were lying to you about that, as well. But I did learn that the reason carrots are probably called carrots is because they contain the pigment carotenoid, which makes things orange, like carrots. The best-tasting carrots are the ones that are wet, and not sour, and usually the smaller ones. But I don't judge the worse tasting carrots, because I know that the rest of the carrots in the package probably already gave those carrots heck, and they can't do anything about it because they are just carrots. All in all, I had a very carrot-filled day; I hope I do not turn orange, because that would be unfortunate. Other than the fact I could match my orange shoes, which would not be unfortunate.

Oh, yes, and I have a tapeworm; all evidence points towards this because I was constantly voraciously hungry today; so obviously something in my stomach was eating my food other than me. And I am pretty sure my boyfriend was NOT in my stomach, nor would he want to be, because I do not eat nearly enough peanut butter and granola bars to satisfy his bizarre tastes, and that is the only other thing in the known universe constantly hungry enough to eat all the carrotsticks I have previously consumed today.

My boyfriend and his goatee; because when I think of the word goatee I think of a goat, and sometimes, as Hannah so cleverly pointed out, Mr. Tumnus. Which makes me think my boyfriend is secretly a mythical creature, and even if he isn't the coolest type of mythical creature he is one none the less and for that I am thankful. Et ca me fait content, which is the topic of this blog, if anyone has forgotten, if anyone is reading this far into it.
Except I just found out he doesnt like Mr. Tumnus very much at all, which disappoints me a little, but not too much, because my affection runs deeper than that; runs as deep as his dimple.

Which he knows very well.

Babies.

...Just in general. They are usually quite charismatic, or so I am told...

Au commencement...

There was light. And, if at the beginning, there was light, one must assume that from the light came the darkness; and therefore that in all darkness there is light; which really puts an optimistic view on life and darkness in general, unless one is a vampire, in which case I have just ruined your existence with one simple run-on sentence.
I'm not sure if I feel ashamed or not to start a blog; probably it will turn out that I will write once, three times tops, and then get bored and this will become a chore and probably I'll guilt-trip myself into writing things that
a) nobody cares about and
b) nobody is reading anyways because
c) you have better things to with your time and
d) so do I.
But, one never knows the full impact and limits of a simple act, thought, painting, or assassination, so what the hell.

You know what I dislike? The word cute, and being called cute, because it is such a superficial word. I mean, really; everyone uses the word cute to describe things they don't find cute at all. Boys call girls cute when really they mean they aren't that pretty and have nothing else to offer but the boys have a conscience, (other than my boy, apparently) and mothers use it to describe other people's children, because they could never use it on their own who are constantly crying and smelling and throwing and demanding to the point of their mothers wanting to defenestrate them (defenestrate being inserted for the benefit of the team) (it means to throw someone out a window, what a spectacular word), and small children (and me) use it to define puppies and kitties and sometimes feeder fish and delusional people call monkeys and birds cute, and I don't want to be in the same category as either of the latter.
So I say that the world is in dire need of a refresher and a thesaurus; I dare you to go outside and find something adorable and call it charming, or dainty, or attractive, perky, delightful, appealing, captivating, or sublime. And if it is none of these things, do not bother to open your mouth, because the world is better off without your egregious lying anyways.