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| puddlejumper1391
puddlejumper1391
♀️
[4514388]
[2007-04-06 22:31:04 +0000 UTC]
"Mia"
(United States)
# Statistics
Favourites: 0; Deviations: 101; Watchers: 22
Watching: 31; Pageviews: 7163; Comments Made: 1336; Friends: 31
# Interests
Tools of the Trade: my bodyOther Interests: Smirking
# About me
Current Residence: the ChesapeakePersonal Quote: "You used your masterball on a Ponyta."
# Comments
Comments: 160
I was just snooping around (Kelsey's profile) and I realized that I know you! I loved your IB Art gallery last spring, by the way. So I added you.
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I'm finishing all the IB things that I really should have done as a Junior: EE, HI, WL, CAS Portfolio. Not leaving my house often. Are you at college now?
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lmao. isn't that how it always goes? xD I'm so glad my class got off easy.... xD
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yar we didn't have to do nearly the same shit you guys have to xD so many deadlines pushed back...ahhh those were the good ol days....lmao
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haha. I'm actually glad that our imposed deadlines have been fairly rigid. I probably wouldn't have done anything unless I'd been carefully threatened, then bribed by Ms. Heiles.
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DUN-DUN-DUN-
DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNN!!! YOU'RE IT!! ^^ YOU HAVE BEEN CONSIDERED ONE OF MY SWEETEST FRIENDS ON MY LIST onCE YOU HAVE BEEN TAGGED YOU HAVE TO TAG 5 OF YOUR SWEETEST FRIENDS AND LET THEM KNOW THEY ARE SWEET X.X.X""
FAKE FRIENDS: Will ignore this
Send this 2 at least 5 ppl including me if u want ^^
If you wake up in a red room with no windows and doors, DON'T panic.. you're just in my heart!!! Send this to all the friends you want to keep forever...
Send this to all of your friends, and me if I am one. If you get 7 back you are LOVED!!! Here are the numbers of what kind of friend you are based on how many you get back..
1-3 ~ you're a friend
4-6 ~ you're an okay friend
7-9 ~ you're a good friend
10+ ~ you're a great friend
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mia?
is that you?
haha i'm such a creeper i used your little google search thing to see who wanted to build schools in liberia
and it came up with mia,
so i hope it's you
b/c if not,
i'm sorry.
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You are a creeper, but it's okay. Mia is, too.
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Hi Mia!
Just saying Hi! Put up more pictures..I wanna see what I have to compete with... Haha. Later loser.
-- The Alligator Baby.
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random deviant just stopping by to say 
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What's your rate? $4.99 an hour? $36.99 a weekend? The economic choice. You're a good value.
haha. If you say so. You do have a certain way of speaking. I don't know how that would translate to poetry or anything like that.
It's so depressing, looking back. I was trapped, only able to express everything wrong in my life with cliches. Angsty!!!
I don't want to have to. It makes me remember how cold and cruel I am. Besides, once I endorse her negative feelings, there's no going back. I'm still hoping that my father will pick himself up and make things better. Because once she's trained not to feel it, she's never going to again. It doesn't just come back. I've tried everything. But you know what, it has gotten a bit better. So maybe it can...
I usually just write it, play around with it for a few days, and throw it up here. Then I play around with it more. It doesn't bother me not to have things like this perfect. Because if I knew I wrote something perfect, I'd never write another one again. Just so I could keep in mind that my most recent was perfect.
I don't even know if there is perfect. There's perfect grammar, but the most you can do is capture an idea completely. It's hard to compare stuff like that.
hahahaha. You mean, like, smut?
Poor things. At least they'll grow out of it.
hah. poor ho. or should i say slut? sluts don't get paid.
$4.99 isn't even enough to negotiate my price.
nooot so much.
there wasn't even anything wrong in my life. it was like the 'scars' from what had happened with lauren two years earlier suddenly and violently festered, and i was diseased for over a year... then i caused problems for myself as a result which only deepened my contempt for the world in general... like the conflict for carrie, which provided some nice, fresh, blazing rage. ah, poison.
maybe it's better that you two abandon any attempted affection toward your father. i don't want to sound pessimistic, but what sort of phenomenon could possibly make him pull himself out of his glamorous new life? you'd have to openly confront him, and is he worth it? your sister's feelings may be, but isn't it just as well that she learns now how to defend herself?
don't place too much stock in what i say. it's purely hypothetical, somewhat bitterly subjective, and unadjusted to the particular circumstances which i don't specifically know.
that's true. but i get mixed feelings: when i get to work on something, i edit it every time that i open it, but poetry is slightly different. the lines come to me with complete spontanaiety, and revision seems to impair that sense. but it's only to me, so i should just proceed to do what's best for the poem itself... yet i'm unlikely to share it, soo... well, i suppose that i'll keep the original draft but fix it as needed before considering submission.
well, when doing something personally, i need to feel that it conveys my original ideas, has the cohesion that i want, and is phrased with a certain, vaguely dispassionate overtone that makes it feel less lame. maybe it's just a weird complex of mine [people are all about complexes to me. geez], but it seems to ruin everything when someone is too enthusiastic about their own work. even if it's really good, it seems... weird if they're really into it. especially me; the way that [i think that] people see me, any sort of passion would just seem extremely revolting. i can't describe it via typing. my best attempts toward verbalization have been rather rambling and full of 'like's.
no... that actually wasn't sarcasm [ohemgee]. even when i'd write nice little stories, i couldn't describe them to my parents. it's just embarrassing: a look into my imagination isn't okay coming from adults.
most of 'em, anyway... some people never seem to. kat hasn't yet, from my observation, and a few other people.
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mmm...yeah, right.
...so glad it's all done.
Ah, it's true. All so true.
but... shhh... I'm thinking divorce someday... nobody's happy. Although perhaps there will always be a better alternative to caring for us. Maybe I just didn't realize before. I idealize the past, I think.
Sometimes that's what I like to do, but then new things hit me and it seems absolutely unbearable to leave the old, musty line there. It's not really editing, it's... more spontaneity. I think poetry works really differently for everyone. I usually don't talk about my process, though. It's embarrassing.
OH MY GOD! I totally know what you mean. I was trying to write something emotional, and I realized that my entire manner of speech is calculated around dispassion. Then, I was sort of thinking the same thing goes for you. You talk quickly and say a lot of words. Putting all that English pulls the feeling out of it. It draws attention away from that drop of interest you had that inspired you to speak in the first place.
hahaha.
She has to someday. You can't go through life like that. You can go through highschool like that, maybe because you can always complain "well, they force me to attend". But have you ever met an angsty adult? There are brooding college students. But angsty? I never have.
haha, you really aren't afraid of anyone reading this are you? I mean, Kat's on deviantART. There's not a big chance, but there is one nonetheless, that she could see that. And how do you know that I'm not going to tell anyone the things you say?
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haha.
It's true! You're in denial. But one day, you're going to have to come to grips with your similar headshapes and it's going to hurt. I'm only here to help, which is why I charge $600 per session, wear stupid looking glasses and prescribe lots of pills.
I'm almost glad we don't end up in more classes together. I can get real nasty when it's competing for the love of a teacher.
I think being able to do something vaguely resembling communication in one extra language is enough. Luckily, humans are all rather apt at reading body language and the more obvious gesticulations. If I ever land myself in a foreign country, that's how I'm going to get by. Otherwise, I guess I'll learn to run very fast.
How do you plan use your English-French-Latin-Cyrillic-Arabic skills, anyway?
By the way, do you always understand exactly what Mr. Noga says? I would imagine so, Miss Teen Language America. I've given up. Gradually, I went from full understanding to picking up every other word... it degraded to this, where I pick out one of every five words and piece together a pretty English sentence from it. Unfortunately, pretty isn't always, you know, correct. I need to up my exposure. The mid-term listening part blew right over my head. The only word I knew I heard for sure was "shampooing". Sad. The time has come for another 6-hour French language film marathon.
I'd like to be a social psychologist. But I don't know where I'm going to apply that... I don't want to perform controlled experiments. I know I'll be able to get by, but I actually want to succeed. I don't know what I want to succeed at, though.
no. no, no, no. i'll never believe you. you don't undertsnad. this is the foundation of my sense of reality. my headshape is unique! this has been a Vital Truth for my whole life. keep your pills and your psychobabble, you sadist!
oh, whore. nothing can come between mrs. korona and me. nothing. even your little asian slut self.
until you wave at a south african! oh, my.
...you see, mia, mrs. echiverri is my role model. i want to be just like her, so i must learn foreign languages until they become a jumble in my head and i can't speak one at a time anymore.
[my next course of action will be to surgically remove about two feet from my height.]
...yes; i actually do understand him. it's like a curse-- sometimes, slumped into my seat while going over something because i'm tired of being class spokesperson, i look up to see him craning his neck around abby's shoulder, in fervent, vain hope that i have my hand up. it's terribly vexing, indeed.
[and that was quite a run-on. i'm rather impressed with myself.]
i know exactly what you mean about the psych thing; it fascinates me, but i have no interest in studies or in psychiatry.
so i, like you, am just waiting for things to take care of themselves.
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Darling, it's time for your electroshock therapy. So lie the freak down. We're about to start.
Keep Ms. Korona, you dumb fraction of an Asian ho. I've got Dr. G. He's a doctor. And Mrs. Doyle. She's a stoner.
That's where the running/burrowing skills come in.
hahahaha. I just snorted! I didn't know she spoke lots of languages. She always confused me. I thought she was Hispanic, but everyone said she was Filipino but then she said "Si" instead of yes. Wwaaaaahhh!!! I don't understand.
We can now officially classify you as a knowledge-slut.
I felt like I learned a lot more from Mrs. Baggett than Mr. Noga. Now I'm completely useless. I only understand written French. Before, I understood every word they put on those damn tapes.
This afternoon, I was salivating over candy in the grocery store. I looked away, so I wouldn't be tempted to chew through the wrapper right then. My gaze fell upon the latest issue of The National Inquirer. I want to write for the National Inquirer. Who cares if it's gross? It's so human-interest. I don't have the interest, but people who do fascinate me. Sort of like sex...
haha, it's a good thing my little sister never bothers to visit my page. In my head, I saw her greasy little eyebrows raising at that last sentence. And every other sentence involving sex.
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...can't we spend some time on the couch first? please?
...well, i'm still maintaining a very, very close relationship with mr. powell.
oh-- that's part of being asian, too? curiouser and curiouser.
she is filipino and chinese, but it's because she spoke so many languages that she said 'si', etc... apparently, she was known for lapsing into spanish at south river.
knowledge slut? excuseh?
oh, the tapes. even i can't understand those, but it's not b/c of mr. noga.
what i miss most about baggett is that people actually took her seriously when she talked about participation grades. no one bothers to answer in noga's class anymore, because no one believes that he'll actually take any points off of their grades. and he doesn't. so my asianness forces me into an unwilling position of class answer-giver. and i hate it.
i prefer the 'weekly world news'. hahaha.
what i'd like to do is somehow find out [with minimal work, of course] how/why music affects people the way that it does. for example, how we manage to assign moods to different keys/tempos, etc... that just occurred to me yesterday, and now i really want to know.
i know. even if my parents visit my gallery, they won't look down here... i hope... sincerely...
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Mr. Powell is mine. I got to put the penis, err, peanuts in his Coke. You whore! He's not even into white girls.
No, I honed that skill by myself. It was doubtlessly enhanced because of being Asian.
NOOO! I can always tell what flavor Asian people are. Always! And, I can always tell if people are, in fact, Asian. Filipinos can be tough to identify, though. I didn't know my brother, Eric, was. And I can't really figure out what I am, either. But, as for everyone else...
You heard me. You'd have sex for a song... about algorithms. I know that for a fact, but I guess you were a tad to drunk to remember last summer?
Well, that's good. I was getting a little discouraged. Yes, we did. She kept tallies. It took me forever to figure it out. But I got it. And I had such a good grade in that class. Those extra credit date points (The ones on the top of the paper, not the ones I earned at her house. Who's better loved now, whore!!!) put me over the edge. My grade in Mr. Noga's class is good. But not better than perfect.
You hang on to that small piece of Asian like the Hello Kitty vibrator that everyone knows all Asian chicks own.
OMG, I was just thinking about that a few days ago! Why does music put you in a certain mood? What is it about one note to another that makes a person feel something? My mother said it was because you associate it with something. But if you played "My Humps" at all of a child's sad occasions, he still wouldn't be naturally inclined to feel sadness from it. Right...?
Smells are nostalgic, as are tastes, so they can make you feel. Touching can always be explained by evolution and association. Loud sounds can trigger fear, again, evolutionarily speaking. But what is it about music? Rhythm makes us think about sex, but music doesn't (always) turn us on. So what explains that?
Once my mom read one of my poems, which sucked (the poem and the reading). I had a breakdown. It was ridiculous. I wanted to show her that I could do better, but I didn't want to show her anything at all. The more people know me, the harder a time I have being myself with them. It's oxymoronic, but it's true. I guess it's something like... they already know me and like me, why jeopardize that by taking risks? Illogical and too logical at the same time.
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thaaaat's what you think. all of those tapes that you took of yourselves? sold to dr. g. mr. powell is, like, soooo totally over you. [if he ever was really under you. which i doubt; those videos looked pretty choppy.]
sure. or because you're small, squinty-eyed, and otherwise mole-like [though those also describe asians. coincidence, i'm sure... or else an evolutionary epiphany...]
nope. apparently your asian radar has been stumped.
betchpleaaase. i don't drink.
drinking is soo softcore.
yeah... those dates are how i got my grade, too.
but only the paper ones.
you think that you're loved because you scored with baggett?? well, swallow this [yes, swallow it, ho]: i got mr. noga, and he's gay. that takes some skill.
i do not!!
[mine is pikachu.]
...i'm hoping so.
but any kid who's being followed around by some fergie-blasting sadist at his personal tragedies is indubitably [yup. indubitably] so profoundly screwed up that no one can use him as a basis of comparison to the world's general population.
but, like, why does a minor key evoke sadness? we all know that half of a horror movie is the music, but why? it can't just be conditioned, because it's internationally recognized; if it was only conditioning, then it wouldn't be so widespread.
yeah... it's not even like art, which can play on perceptions of norms, etc... except, on the music line, how do different colors have those effects? hmmm... [well, that one is easier to explain than music, so never mind, but whatever.]
very paradoxical. but you're right; even though logic kind of breaks it, the reality of emotions/thought override the logic. katelyn once showed her mom this insanely emo poem that i wrote, and i still cringe at the thought. when i was first creating my gallery here, and my parents were looking/ sending the link to various other adults [grandparents, godmother], i felt awkward even about the titles that i gave my deviations. i switched out some of my more creative ones for generic alternatives that seemed less embarrassing to be seen by them. i still do that, really: that's why so many of my shots have really bland titles.
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Whore.
Whore.
Whore.
Whore. Then what have you? Opium?
Whore. There's only one way to explain this. All of your teachers are female, except Mr. Noga, who's gay. That means, all of them like men. All of them like you. Do you know what that means? You are a man. Boy-slut.
Boy-slut, I know it's voice-activated. Pikachu, electric shock!
Boy-slut, I haven't come up with anything to define it yet, either. Someone has to know, though. I'm sure that, once upon a time, somebody with resources had the same question. Considering it hit both of us within a week.
The dark stuff is the worst stuff for people to find, because you have to admit that you had those emotions in the first place. And then they pick around for a source, which is probably equally humiliating. It's like a look into your mind. And I think we're all secretly afraid that we set our expectations too high and feel too much. So everyone pretends. When you're not pretending, it's art, which is great and all but emotionally taxing to reveal. Humans...
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pssshhhhyeahhh.
noo. i'm just an asian. like, duhh. besides, mr. powell is not a woman. and mrs. korona doesn't like men either. aaand i've 'hosted' dr. g once or twiiiice...
yup, yup.
yes; i'll check the text's index sometime. though i don't anticipate that it'll be terribly helpful.
yes. i'll never forget this one quote of baggett's, which i actually wrote down: '
the worst part about the whole thing is how people judge. we all have these problems, but we analyze people and come to conclusions so that we can scorn them, condescendingly and pityingly, but we're doing that in order to help our own act... ahh, life.
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Fine, fine, fine! You're the prima Asian skank. Happy?
I was thinking more like Wikipedia.
That's, like, the essence of Madame Baggett.
Yep! Everyone's so desperate to appear more in control than everyone else. If you told everyone to revert to their natural, unaffected states... well, the winners of life would be the ones who didn't listen. They can manipulate. It's kind of disgusting, but it works. Because even social reform can't fix that.
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i don't need your affirmation. i've been the prima asian slut since i grew boobs.
eh. wikipedia is sometimes confusing, as the sorts of people who post such obscure articles are probably experts in their field, who don't cater to commoners like us.
i love it!
did you notice how the old french room feels so closed now? somehow, baggett's setup felt all sunny/ airy/ etc... mrs. ross is totally sexy and all [ima get me a piece of that within a week], but she's got no feng shui skills.
well, 'totally natural' is state of nature... inadvisable anyway. this brings up an interesting point... are these intrapersonal laws that help maintain order? as in, not only internal order, but overall social order, like public law. i think that we've stumbled upon something; pretension contributes to social order.
you're entirely right, then. disgusting.
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Which was... when you were twenty-five? Asians don't need bras. It's like the only thing we didn't invent. I, for example, don't even need breasts. I can rock my calculator harder when there isn't anything to get in the way.
Plus, I can't even figure out what it's called. Whenever I Google it, I just get songs about feelings.
Yeah! It really did have a certain dynamic to it. Maybe it was the way the light came in. Sunrise on Mia's pupils. Je ne peux pas parler francais quand I AM BLINDED.
Oh, it's one hot piece of meat, all right. I'm sure you'll be able to teach her a couple of Asian tricks.
Dayum! You know what? We shouldn't compete. We should go Asian-Orgy on all the sexy-hawt teachers of the world. We would be simply overpowering.
Yes, I think you summed it up rather nicely. It is disgusting, but at least it leans towards intelligence over brute strength. That would be truly disgusting.
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exactly. buuut i'm white enough to get b-cups. oh, well.
that's true. i've never tried... i would ask mrs. doyle, but has she ever listened to music siber? i'm dubious.
aww. you should have explained it to her. only your eyes don't let in much light anyway, so she might not have believed you... -snicker-
nice.
we would. even jasper would be out of asian remarks in the face of that might.
yes, though it's really sort of a lame disguise, too... we're not as evolved as we think.
[i was in a weird mood last night... very philosophical, analyzing everything, even my own thoughts... it was annoying, to be honest. but it inspired several scattered lines of kinda-poetry which i scrawled down and might try to connect soon. like, in a few minutes.]
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I've got B-cups, too! 32B, to be precise. (I had to take off my clothes to check that.) OMG, we could be body doubles!
muhahahahahahhaha!
hahahaha! Oh, you're so funny. You do have really wide eyes. Because you're white. Maybe you're not Asian at all. You've just idolized the Asians to the point where you think you are one.
Oh, yeah.
Now I'm intrigued. Poetry...
I get like that sometimes. I love it, but I annoy myself when I do it, too. I write it all down because it sounds good when I think it. So now I have a laptop filled with self-doubting thoughts and all sortsa weird stuff.
I luv me lappytop! I wouldn't be able to write anything without it.
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no. i'm 34b. but we're practically twins otherwise, of course.
...i meant 'sober'. but you seemed to catch that. asian connection and all.
you're just jealous that i have peripheral vision.
i'm not any good. my talent with words mostly lies in clever, thought-provoking [that sounds like self-flattery, but kindly ignore that] little phrases, sentences, or '
interesting. well, mine was intensely annoying. hence one of my still-in-rough-development little phrases: '
i used to write a lot of bad emo poetry, and it had to be on my xanga. that was like my inspiration zone for utter crap. typing does make things easier for me, too.
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Except... I'm hotter.
At first, I was like "Wha?" I was about to look up "siber" on dictionary.com. And then I thought about what Ms. Doyle is, and what Mrs. Doyle is not and it hit me.
On the contrary, my squinty little eyes enhance my peripheral vision and movement detection. Up and down present more of a problem for me. But unless you jump down from the ceiling or sprout from earth, you won't be able to surprise me.
I'm an expert at ignoring self-flattery.
You can always mash them all up together and make it about indecisiveness. That's why all of mine are. If there weren't two choices, there wouldn't be a problem and you'd be writing some sunshine poem. Not like that's a bad thing.
I wrote the angry life lessons, too. I was looking back at them a couple days ago. It made me sad. But there's no way I'd be myself if none of it had happened.
But it really tears me apart to see my little sister going through the same thing I was. It doesn't hit her as hard as it hit me. We handle things differently. She's just realizing that her father is willing to offer more to his stepkids and (new) wife than her. How lame is that? She's better than they are in every way. So why does he keep giving? Why doesn't he try to please us, erm, her anymore? She still cares... why does he have to ruin that, too? Goddamn it, I'm getting all worked up again. When I think about these people, I just get sick. You can bet your Asian that I'm getting far, far away from them (except my mother and her dog) the minute I can.
But that still doesn't help her, which is all I really want. She doesn't deserve it. I don't want the innocence and the trust peeled away from her like that. I don't care if she drinks or has sex or anything. But I wish she had two parents.
Now I wanna see your writing. Are you ever going to post it?
For me, it's not just the typing. It's the privacy. Because I go absolutely crazy when people see something they weren't supposed to, like if you save it under something cryptic on a computer you share with the family. Plus, you can snap the laptop screen shut really quickly. Some of my writing can be classified as nothing besides vulgar.
I think that's how everyone is on xanga.
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umm, let's let our incomes decide that. yeah. i thought so. betttch.
yeah... you pulled a noga. nice. 'it's naomi, so it can't possibly be a mistake. she's just revolutionized the language.'
ohh, mah life.
well, i can do both. and the corners of your eyes hardly let in enough light to be helpful.
excellent.
'course not.
but i can't pull off things like that. it sounds cheesy just because it comes from me. even good things do. somehow; i don't know why. but i make things suck like that.
that's my perspective on it. it's done, and it was crucial. but done. dooonnne.
well, your sister has you to convince her that she doesn't need them anyway, maybe...
only if i really like it. which, with my perfectionism, is somehwat unlikely. i wrote a little mini-essay about my camera a few days ago, and was going to post it, but i'm not sure what the category is. soo it's all against me and everything.
yeah; that, too. i won't even describe the main idea of some perfectly innocent 'literary' pursuit.
yeah. it's all big with eighth-graders, who still think that angst is cool.
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What's your rate? $4.99 an hour? $36.99 a weekend? The economic choice. You're a good value.
haha. If you say so. You do have a certain way of speaking. I don't know how that would translate to poetry or anything like that.
It's so depressing, looking back. I was trapped, only able to express everything wrong in my life with cliches. Angsty!!!
I don't want to have to. It makes me remember how cold and cruel I am. Besides, once I endorse her negative feelings, there's no going back. I'm still hoping that my father will pick himself up and make things better. Because once she's trained not to feel it, she's never going to again. It doesn't just come back. I've tried everything. But you know what, it has gotten a bit better. So maybe it can...
I usually just write it, play around with it for a few days, and throw it up here. Then I play around with it more. It doesn't bother me not to have things like this perfect. Because if I knew I wrote something perfect, I'd never write another one again. Just so I could keep in mind that my most recent was perfect.
I don't even know if there is perfect. There's perfect grammar, but the most you can do is capture an idea completely. It's hard to compare stuff like that.
hahahaha. You mean, like, smut?
Poor things. At least they'll grow out of it.
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ugh. something is wrong with the ps here.
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lost access to the 'submit' button again.
What kind of people warrant your faith? Like, the one out of five million people that's smarter than you? Or dumb people that you know can't be up to anything? I'm awfully curious... You seem like you know what you dislike in people.
I know. He's always wearing those sexy little outfits. He's asking for it, anyone could tell you that. I say we team-up and get a feel of that luscious white ass. We gotta get him drunk, first, though. Let's have a party. I'll spike the punch. You can bring the baseball bat and velvet cordage.
hehehe. Definitely not.
hmm. i'm trying to think; i really haven't specifically verbalized my definition of a 'worthwhile human being'...
...i think that arrogance[/ conceit/ self-centeredness, etc] is my utter #1 'turnoff'. it's kind of that simple, i believe... except that certain people who are well-meaning but complete idiots. wow. i feel so self-actualized just by knowing that about myself now.
okay. can you get hold of a camcorder and handcuffs?
...actually, i blame the lame little cracker anime kids.
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I have point values, but they're difficult to explain. They're highly subjective... obviously.
I do all my value-counting but I don't care in the end.
Arrogance is almost at my top. But what I really hate is... people who can't control themselves... seekers of instant gratification... who overcharge their credit cards... who leave trails of shaving cream up the shower walls... semen on the mirror. Holy shit! What the hell is that? (I was scanning my shared room for examples.)
I'm in a state of perpetual disgust with the creature that I'm forced to call my hot stepsister. But seriously, that's disgusting. I hope she cleans it all up. With her face. (Erm, I checked. It looks more like that $9 toothpaste). Oh, god. I see I'm still having more issues than I realized before.
Uh, anyway, I can't stand people who take exactly what they want at the moment and then are somehow successful, anyway. Makes me feel like my careful investments and holing away are for nothing. It inspires feeling of envy and disappointment, which aren't common at all for me.
I'm pretty sure I can rent a camcorder the same place I got that Flight Attendant's uniform from. I'm tempted to veto the handcuffs; I still have the stocks I used last weekend.
Eww, Japanophiles.
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well, naturally.
haha. who's got the high score? who has the low? are you friends with either? bwahaha.
ohh, my.
well, i think that that sort of thing is a direct product of being totally self-centered, because they never stop to think about what they're doing and how it could affect people. that's why self-centeredness/arrogance is kind of the only thing on my list. most undesirable traits [to me, anyway] stem from it... from condescencion to being clingy. polar opposites, but both from being totally about yourself, screw everyone else.
it seems that i dwell on flaws too deeply.
...toothpaste. hmm. wow.
what's her name, again?
i can't think of any examples of those people succeeding... maybe because i reflexively make evaluations that render whatever they have worth less than it appears. but that's just a guess. it makes me sound like a spiteful, bitter little wretch, but i think that i'm usually right when i do it.
oh! stocks! excellent!
do you have a piranha tank? or thumbscrew?
i know! ughh.
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My dog and my little sister are up there. Low... more members of my family and a couple of my old friends from middle school. Out of people I know you know... I feel too catty naming people. I mean, I score people but I don't mean anything. I give everyone the same amount of respect, but I "click" different ways, to varying degrees, with different people.
That's true. Pretty much everything annoying in people stems from an utter disregard for others. But some of the byproducts of arrogance don't bother me. Over-self-confidence, for example. If they do something stupid before I get the chance to, it's their neck in the cast, not mine.
I have a bad habit of not noticing people's flaws until we're close enough so it might hurt them if I dumped them. My mentality wasn't built for relationships and that doesn't bother me at all. I can always change if it starts to...
Brianna Becker, senior, Captain of AHS dance company, President of Model UN. You might have seen me begging her for a ride in the halls. She probably looked pretty. I probably looked pretty sweet, pretty desperate, or pretty pissed.
At least none of the adults I know like that are happy. That always makes me feel better. Which sounds really sadistic.
Eww... you're too kinky for me. *crinkles nose disgustedly* I do have those jumper cables, though. Just remember: right-tighty, lefty-loosey.
Like, the really weird ones who try to be Japanese by memorizing most of their iPods in Japanese, reading manga at school and watching anime (cough, hentai, cough) when they go home. *shudders* I'm a nerd and I know it but really... that's just being a poseur. 'Cause they're all white people. You're a quarter Japanese, right?
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well, dogs tend to make it on default.
mmkay. i wasn't serious enough to demand names, soo it's okay.
haha. well, in the meantime, i think that they're idiots and they annoy me. soo they suck, too. --big grin--
i see. how unfortunate. little asian wired for schizoid-ness. aww.
hmm. the name sounds familiar, kind of, and the titles make it sound like i should know who she is, or be labeled some kind of exile... buuut no. can't say that i do.
hahahahaha. it does. but it's true.
okay.
but seriously. you need to up your technique.
haha. yes. aand yes; i am.
i think that you can only do that if you know japanese. and learned it for another reason than to attend some kind of freaky convention.
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There's actually no one at school who ranks really low, anyway. Now that I think of it.
Nobody ever knows her. She keeps to herself. Ahh, well. I think I'm better off that way. This way I don't have people who compare us. I'm afraid I only succeed in more subtle ways when you stand us next to each other. Her friends are all really sweet, probably because they had to do all the approaching and relationship dragging.
Yep.
Yes, Master.
hahahahahaha! Cosplay...
I don't know exactly what flavor Asian I am. I'm from China, but I don't look Chinese. I'm convinced I'm mixed.
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that's good. though i probably wouldn't agree if i rated people, it's one hell of a lot better than middle school was.
haha. it's rather like my sister; she's a freaking paragon, except that she knows it so she's arrogant. my less-inflated head is my absolutely only advantage. and her best friend does her chores and all, as i think that i've mentioned.
durn straight, you whore. -whip-
mmkay. well, apparently your asian phenotype isn't enough to offend mrs. doyle. poor claude.
[only not. hah.]
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Agree! That's where all my low rankers are. They'd probably like me if I met them again. A lot of it was my fault.
Exploitation! At least she knows that her chores need to get done. Unlike a certain step-sister/side-stepper of mine. I already told you about the full-length mirro and we've only been there a few weeks. You don't even want me to get into, say... the shower. (Or do you...)
Thank you sir, may I have another?
hahahahahahaha! She always whores him. And he's only half. That's why I told her I was black. I love our Psych class. I'm going to be sad when it gets stirred in with the rest of them. Although I do love it when the classes change. Sometimes I get bored with them.
I always seem to end up with the same classes, though. Only a few of us are in French. Only thirty of us take AP Euro. I think Algebra II/Pre-Calc is split in halfish. The only IB class that I have a chance of being mixed in with all the ELP tenth graders is Chemistry. Eww... Dr. G. Is giving me a B. That bastard. I turned in that 36-point assignment.
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yeahhh... same here. however, several of them just simply incurably sucked.
maybe i do. but what's the point if you're all the way over there?
and hannah only does the chores that my father demands that she does.
you'd dare to ask!! the insolence! the sheer insolence!!
this warrants punishment you realize. don't talk back to me.
yeah, like my chem class. ugh. and world history is even worse. buut i'll miss our little corner dynamic, though she certainly won't. hahaha. no wonder she hates on claude; he's her little outlet b/c she's afraid of the rest of us. we're not as twiggishly beat-up-able.
geez. i'm probably going to get a b from him, then get a b for the semester from my lucky-to-be-a-c exam.
oh, and did i tell you what i did yesterday in english? my brain somehow had a seizure, and i thought that we didn't have to do the grammar pages. so i didn't do them. any of them. ughhh.
buuut then i went to see mrs. walden today, and started to outline my dilemma [sketchily; i made it sound like i forgot more than deluded]... she was just like, 'naomi, go away. you're fine.'
it was nice.
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hahaha.
I've got a webcam. *wink*
OMG. Your sister looks so white. Your brother seems almost full Asian. But I can tell you're all related. Interesting...
*cries* Yes sir. *sob* Yes sir.
Hahahahaha. We all do look a little tougher than Claude, don't we?
Naomi + B = oh snap, I don't feel nearly as bad
I hate that feeling... when you're finished half and hour before everyone else.
Ahhhh! I'm getting a B in English, too. That's simply embarrassing. She told me I was fine for forgetting the peer-editing thing, too (not like she's missing much). I hope "fine" means she'll give me 200 points extra credit.
My report card is going to be so ugly this semester. All the classes I did well in, I practically failed the midterm in. And the ones I didn't do well in... I didn't do well in.
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they did.
oh, i see. work it, then.
really? most people consider hannah hispanic-looking. and occasionally sim, too. hannah was once mistaken for a black girl on the srhs track team, but only from behind, and she was tan [it was still summer]... i almost mistook that girl for my sister once. they looked quite similar.
aaand no. you lie. you can't tell that we're related. liar. deceiver. fabricator.
yup. even in those huge dragon boots... they actually appear to be his anchor to the ground. he looks like a grasshopper in all black.
pfft. yeah. that gross old gorilla will fail anyone.
i didn't notice; i'm used to finishing early. i generally blow through tests and make stupid mistakes, but this is the worst that i've ever made. and it wasn't even from rushing... haha.
i'm gonna get an a for the semester, b/c i had a 98.7 or something in the class. haha. buuut i'm not sure if i can handle seeing a 'b' in any english slot, even if it won't appear on any records. mrs. korona was the only english teacher to ever give me a b, and i only got one question wrong on her midterm. [it was a theme question, too, and i was totally right. i hate those questions. they totally defeat the purpose of poetry.] english is a pointless ego-cruise class for me; this will not be easy...
[see; i am asian after all.]
aw. poor mia. maybe your asianness went directly to external purposes, and mine got misplaced around the language-area [i'm a math failure in my family's females; my sister's in calc 3 and has met nick wu, and my mom is a math major who was a mathmetician/ cryptanalyst at the nsa.]
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heh.
I am The Teller of Inevitable Truths. Inevitable. You are related and I can tell. It's not apparent at first glance, but it's the shape of your heads. I haven't spent enough time in the trunk of your car to tell about the personalities, though.
haha.
Eww. I was hoping scabby, hairy guys like him would pass cute, hairless girls like me because they're usually creepy and harbor at least one strange fetish... hopefully involving underage Asian chicks. I mean, I wouldn't slut-out for a grade. Hopefully, Mrs. Echiverri would come back before it got to that. I think my final grade might still be an A, though.
I'm the same way. I read fast, write fast and scratch fast lines through scantrons. But I'm not too clever when it comes to following directions. I'm never perfectly confident that I'm doing the right thing.
That's always how English has been to me, too. I did really well the first marking period, because she gave us all those writing assignments. The second one, it was all real work. I thought she would be grading it to a lower standard, until she handed out the gradesheets more than half-way through.
Where did all that Asianess go to? They used to think I was really good at math. I was just precocious. Everyone caught up to me by age eleven. Then it was English. Although I can't claim the entire language department, like you can.
hmm... I'm good at ending relationships. Maybe I'll be a double-agent marriage councilor when I grow up. I want to be a writer, but I don't want to be one of those silly artists who thinks they don't have to work at all. So I need something else. Some fuel.
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