March 28th, 2002


(no subject)

Concentric, I demand you stop hiccuping. Quit disconnecting me. Quit making me lose my AIM connection. I was very much enjoying my precious few moments of actively seeking out socialization. Tomorrow I will most likely go back to hating the world. Damn you, Concentric. Damn you.
I want to sing. I miss singing. My voice is crap, but y'know what? I don't fucking care. If I had a working mic, I'd serenade anyone foolish enough to IM me. If Concentric would let me sign onto AIM, that is... e_e;
  • Current Music
    Fiona Apple - Criminal (yes, still. I love this song)

(no subject)

Physical: *cough*TMIAlert*cough* PMS should be ending shortly, cramps commencing. Wheeee. Other than that, obtained a lovely headache from band. I think Emily has been wrongly placing the blame... it's not the metronome that triggers her migraines. It's the sheer rolling waves of stupidity emitted from the low brass and trumpet sections. Not to mention the occasional sounds they can make when/if they figure out how to work their instruments. *shudder*
Clothing: Black jeans, black velvety top that has a design of a cross covered in Celtic knotwork and metal studs in silver on the front, fishnet shirt, black courderoy shirt, black boots (stripey socks with a hole in one of them through which my big toe pokes, but you cannot see), handcuff key necklace, and my brother's paintball gloves which look like they could kick someone's ass all by themselves and are keeping my hands warm. My hands have NEVER been warm in this class. I am amazed. He is SO not getting these gloves back...
Mental: Worked a bit on my senior research. William Blake seems to have been utterly insane in a way that I can almost sympathize with. I love.
Emotional: Meh. Hrm. Yeah. Ever have one of those days where you want to hurl yourself off a building, but it just seems so funny? I refer to them as my "so happy I could die" days. I have instances where I can't stop laughing at everything and anything, but I think I'd still be laughing just as hard if you put a gun to my head. Hell, I'd hold it still while you pulled the trigger. Y'know? But a promise is a promise. Damn you all.
Creative: Rumplestiltskin.
Social: A combination of my weird mood conflict and PMS has lead me to a rather short temper - I managed to curse and rave at Paul for a stupid question, and was very close to killin Eric out of general principle. But he did nothing to provoke me. So I did not lay a hand on him. However... Should he irritate me, I make no promises about whether or not he will escape my wrath with all vital organs intact and functioning properly. Please keep in mind that I am deadly serious here. I can and will hurt him very badly if he keeps up the behavior he has exhibited. Eric, consider this a warning. You need to grow up, use your brain, and learn when it is in your - and everyone else's - best interests to shut the fuck up. Mkay?
Misc: Someone vandalized the school overnight. Not a tremendously big deal. Green paint, stuff about some guy having a 'shrimp dick', our students being 'penis boys' and apparently something about our basketball team being lesbians. Everyone assumes it was our rival school, Stratford. However, it is said there was something painted somewhere that said "SHS = Sex With Teachers". No one is sure why they said that. Did they get confused? Not the brightest of children. It saddens me that they are so incapable of any creativity whatsoever. I mean, big deal. A little spray paint. Call them lesbians. Oooh, I am hurt. Pfft. Now, the part of me that still holds some shred of faith in humanity is hoping that it was not Stratford, but was in fact Spring Woods or Northbrook or some other school who managed to both take out their own dislike for us (everyone hates us; we have a well-deserved reputation for being spoiled, drunken, rich bastards) and pin it on Stratford. More than likely, it's just that the students really are that stupid and it was the SHS kids. But I can hope, can't I?
Well, this is aggravating. There is not enough memory to open more than one explorer window at a time on this computer. For reasons unknown, the only links in my livejournal friends page that I can click on are the ones leading to the pages of other people. Which means that if I want to read comments, I first have to go to the page of the person who posted the original entry. Somewhat annoying.
Quizzes: Collapse )

I am NNY's homicidal rage...

Lovely. Fucking lovely. Concentric has suddenly decided, for no reason, not to recognize our password to connect. And so we have no Internet access. Well, my father has his DSL, but he is using it. We mortals are missing our dial-up very, very much.
"Be a bitch about it, Jenni, why don't you?" - Nicole
Yes. Yes I will. Fuck off. Oh look, Concentric has the sense to fear my wrath and allow me back on just as randomly as it earlier decided I was not worthy of the Internet... My statement stands, Concentric. Your mother is a whore.

I am not in a good mood. No, I don't know why. But all day long I have been this close to killing someone.
This is not my usual complete apathy.
Nor is it the whiny mopey depression.
Nor the antisocial tendencies.
This is "You annoy me by your very existence; please hold still while I stab you to death".
I will attempt to dissect this in hopes that if I can understand why I want to destroy everyone around me, I can hopefully avoid actually doing it.
I am frustrated.

  • I cannot seem to get a job. After Whole Foods let me believe they were going to hire me for an entire week before I finally harassed them into explaining their silence with 'oh, no, not going to after all', not a single place has called me back.
  • For the first time in over a year, I am actually gaining instead of losing weight. This frustrates and angers me more than any of you could ever hope to come close to understanding.
  • I am actually talking to people. I am spending time around people. I will not see them again after two months. I cannot stand the thought of being attached to someone only to lose them - and I am quite forgettable, odds are I will not be remembered once I am not there every day - and so I try to push myself away. It is a very deeply ingrained response for me. It is part of the reason I usually have such a problem trusting people. My 'best friends' always fade into oblivion after a short time period. I generally solve this by avoiding 'best friends'. People feel hurt when they think I am pushing them away. I hate to break it to you, but unless I tell you: "I am going to have to avoid you", you are not close enough to be pushed away in the first place. And I distance myself from everyone. No exceptions. Much as I hate to make you feel not-special... I do not deal well with the whole concept of 'friendship'. I tend to know a bunch of people, but occasionally there will be one person to whom I feel I can tell anything and to whom I can bare my soul without having to worry. I no longer have a person like this. That adds to the frustration, but in a way makes me feel a little more safe.
  • I do not feel I can speak freely. One of the greatest ironies to how my mind works is that I have absolutely no trouble with complete and utter strangers having access to a log of my thoughts and problems (both real and imagined). I would never have joined LJ if I did. I have a huge problem with people I know and see and come into actual contact with knowing what I am thinking and how I feel. This relates to the above-mentioned trust issues. I used to have a Deadjournal, where I wrote things that I felt did not need to be discussed with anyone who knew me personally because they were either private and others concerned wished them to remain so, or because anyone remotely concerned simply would not be affected by knowing. In a few instances, I knew for a fact that letting them know would only cause them great amounts of very unnecessary pain. I had to delete it because it was located. I used to make a lot of 'private' or 'protected' posts on this journal, most viewable only by one or two people, and many that could only be seen by myself. I had to stop that because our other computer has this nasty habit of not refreshing pages, and even after I had logged out, it would often display these 'secret' entries for the world to see. And so I keep it all nicely bottled up in my head. And I do not doubt that it is going to quite literally drive me insane. Maybe I will go off to college before that happens and it will be prevented because then I can once again make protected entries that no one but myself need bother with without having to worry about anyone who happens to sit down at the computer having access to thoughts I do not want to share but would still prefer to catalogue for future reference. I hope so, because I think I need whatever sanity I have. I tend to thrive on privacy, but between the psychic mind link I share with Nicole (you think I'm joking, don't you?) and her disturbing habit of being far too observant, I feel as though I have none regardless of whether or not I really do.
  • I cannot create. This is the big one. After so long saying, thinking, believing that without my stories and comics, I would cease to be, it is no end of aggravation to me that I cannot simply stop existing. I feel as if I have. But my stupid body refuses to die of it's own accord, and I was idiotic enough to publicly swear not to aid the process myself. I am beginning to wish I had not done that. But I refuse to break the god-forsaken promise out of general principle. Damn it. I am wasting space and that irritates me beyond all reason. It is also painful to be constantly reminded of what has slipped through my fingers because people associate me with art and creativity and I am having to explain no less than four to five times a day: "No, I have no inspiration. All I have produced in the past few months was actually thought up a long time ago, just never made." "No, I don't really draw anymore. I try, but... nothing new." "No, the comic is dead. Please go away." [insert sound of my grinding teeth here as yet ANOTHER person says something along the lines of: "oh, don't worry, I'm sure you'll come out of it sooner or later. Inspiration is fickle like that", or: "I bet you just needed a break, is all". This is not just a lack of inspiration. This is not a restful little 'break'. I have experienced both of those before and this is something different entirely. I. MIGHT. AS. WELL. BE. DEAD. I thank you for caring, but I want to break your spine for it. Please shut your mouth and go away and we will both live longer.]

  • Well, I feel only slightly better. Mostly because it took me a full two hours to do that, during which time I was finally able to go through my 'friends' page and read the comments on the interesting posts from today (long loading times. See above hating of Concentric).
    I have had this song stuck in my head for well over 24 hours now. It will not go away. I am not yet sick of it, which I suppose is for the best.
    Gabriel's friend Alex, who is small and active and easily mistaken for a girl until you see him (and even then, if you need glasses) is here. He is not helping the Homicidal Rage. Not even a tiny bit.
    I have drunk almost four liters of water today. Marvel at Jenni the Human Sponge.
    Something in this little computer area reeks of rotting. It is very faint and so I do not know what it is or from where the scent originates. I cannot see any particles of food or anything else that would cause the odor. I have a much stronger sense of smell than anyone else in my family, though... it will take a while before anyone else picks up on it. Meh.
    I am tempted to change the spelling of my nickname back to 'Jenny' just so I can claim 'NNY' as a nickname as well. 'NNI' seems a bit silly...
    • Current Music
      Fiona Apple - Criminal


    This tap-dances upon the line between 'disturbing' and 'so-funny-I-almost-pissed-myself'...
    Kids from Memorial: any other people suspect Mr. Warren of secretly being the author of this article?
    • Current Music
      Fiona Apple - Criminal

    Well. Then.

    Found out what the smell was.
    There is a dead rat outside. (I knew I heard critters late at night. It wasn't just my sanity slipping)
    I would dispose of it, but it seems to be amusing my brother and Alex. Nicole mentioned something about videotaping whatever their Dead Rat antics might be.
    I think the fact that I am not at all bothered by the thought of my brother and his friend amusing themselves with a dead rat is more disturbing than the fact that they are... well.... amusing themselves with a dead rat...
    • Current Music
      Fiona Apple - Criminal