The Quickest update ever

Hey there,

It's like, 7:30 something am, and I'm awake. This is how most of my sundays have been lately, and it's not a bad thing at all. I'm getting ready to go work on the movie.

Well, I'm done "getting ready," I'm just wating for mom to come pick me up. Sleep still excapes me because the walls in my room are still bare. Actualy, I was up for a little bit of the time that I wasn't sleeping because I was stressing out about other stuff.

Yo, why have I been listening to rap music lately? Like, willingly, even. You can blame that on Frank, because that's what I did. No, seriously, the one

Written, Saturday, Mar. 22, 2003 at around: 3:30 AM

Anime an' a guy who talks to rats! What a day!

'Sup Champ?

I just did something terribly dramatic, and I can already feel the effects of what's happened. Seriously, it feels some type of way in my apartment right now. Why? Because I just took down all of the posters in my room.

For almost three or four months, I've been considering getting all new wall decorations. Instead of actually changing the artwork, or going out and buying new stuff, the posters remained on the wall. I'm a little lazy... I must admit though, those posters have been doing a good job of keeping the dust off my bedroom walls. Mostly, I want to get new posters because-- get ready for a shocker-- I'm getting too old for anime.

I still like reading manga-- well, peach girl, anyway. The art style has even gotten old in my eyes. I've moved on to more realistic styles, and comic-styles. I like anime okay, I guess. I haven't been watching my Love Hina dvds, and it seems like my interest has seriously dropped in the past year. I only try to keep interest in it because my friends kind of hate anime, and I'm trying to be stubborn. That ain't workin' so well.

I guess I'm not any type of Gangster after all.

Japanese culture still facinates me, but anime doesn't really move me in the way that it once did. Please don't take that as a movement away from Geek/Nerdom. I am, always have been, and always will be a geek. I watched Star Trek: First Contact the other night, and I started working on one of my website concepts today. See... geek.

The last anime that I watched was the OVA's to Fushugi Yuggi. I think the only thing I'd be interested in watching anymore would be the rest of Ayashi No Ceres, and perhaps an animated version of Peach Girl, if that ever comes to light.

I haven't spent any money on anything anime related so far this year, and I have little or no desire to do so. I even found myself being slightly disinterested in Hello Kitty products the other day. Wow. So what does this mean? This means that I'm going to have to find a new hobby. Perhaps I'll immerse myself in music again, or become deeply involved in bettering myself. Maybe I'll get a damn job.

Still, discussing my disinterest in anime hasn't changed the fact that I still have nothing hanging on my bedroom walls. I think I mentioned months ago that I wanted to buy some nice landscape artwork, and maybe some more movie posters. The Amelie poster in my living room makes me smile. Whatever goes up on the walls, it's gonna have to be soon, because these naked walls are driving me nuts already. The only things on my bedroom walls are a mirror, and some chineese new year's ornaments.

There are probabaly some people who can handle having nothing on their walls, but it really disturbs me. Yup, eccentric... thaaaat's me! When I was a kid, I would go through occasional phases like this when I just needed to take all the pictures down, and put up new stuff. The difference was that I always had this one, weird picture on my wall at all times. It's some inexpensive painting of a potted plant, and some other flowers. That picture is still there to this very day.

That weird picture kept my sanity though, because I never realized how much totally bare walls bother me. It's like sitting in an institution, or something.

Speaking of institutions, Frank and I went to the movies today. *laughs* sorry, bad transition. Yeah, he dropped past, and we had some lunch and saw Willard. Yeah, the rat flick. Wanna hear something weird? Well, before I go into the movie at all, and yes, I'm going to ruin it, Willard ends up eating the rats -His only friends!- to survive after the passing of his father. Yes, I'm an asshole, and for more reasons than most of you know.

Here's the something weird. I've been to the movies with every guy I've ever dated, and today an interesting occurance went down. I held hands with my boyfriend in a movie theater. That's never happened-- ever. I kinda liked it. Again, Frank=cool, but he is an asshole as well, so I suppose that makes for a good couple. A couple of what, I'm not quite sure, but there ya go.

Anyway, Willard (Watch the music video for "Ben", it's hillarious) was good. The movie was mildly disturbing, and that's to be expected of a film about a guy who has serious conversations with rats. Also, something that might not quite so expected, was that the movie was pretty damn funny too. It wasn't like, smack you in the face, dumb and dumber kind of funny, but there were some witty little jokes here and there. Oh, and it's PG13 for a reason. A bunch of dumb fucking parents, probabaly the same parents who brought their kids with them to see South Park, brought seven and eight year olds to see this movie. Not a smooth move. Willard has a few conversations with the rats throughout the movie. These conversations were great, because Crispin Glover (Willard) looks quite serious. Crispin Glover did a good job in playing a crazy guy. Not as crazy as say, Edward Norton, but he was pretty crazy. The rats were great. Never before did rats accomplish looking quite so devious.

Okay, it's really, really late. I'm going to go to bed, because I'm pretty sure someone will call and wake me up in the morning.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Friday, Mar. 21, 2003 at around: 10:50 AM

good mor.... ah, fuck it.

Mmmmmff...

Yeah, an update before 11am eastern standard time. I'm still a litle groggy, and my vison hasn't gotten any better either... Maybe it's just me (and my need for glasses) but, when I wake up in the morning, I have a problem seeing clearly for about an hour or so. Go fig.

Anyway, I'm up. Not of my own accord, though. I don't think that was proper usage of the word accord, but whatever. I was snoozing away in dreamland, and I hear the "SOS" signal. No, I'm serious, that's what my cell phone does when I recive a text message. The message was from Frank, and he says-- "Wake up, Beeyatch!"

Now, in my mind, at 10:30am, "Wake up, Beeyatch," Means a lot of stuff. It could mean trouble. It could mean that he just needed someone to talk to. It could mean... well, a lot of stuff. I ain't so creative right after I get up. So, I read the message, and as I'm not too bright when I first wake up, I just grabbed my house phone, and called him back.

He answers the phone, kind of laughing. Okay... good sign. He says something to the effect of, "Good morning!" and I say something to the effect of, -grumble-. After he encourges me to engage in actual conversation, the truth is let out! He just wanted me to wake up.

Frank is a very interesting guy. I'd like to complain about how he woke me up, but there are two very strong points blocking any logical argument. 1- I'm unemployed, and have no where to go, and no reason to be tired. 2- In some weird way, I really enjoy hearing his voice first thing in the morning.

(que them awwwwww's)

Oh, and for the record, yes, my boyfriend does refer to me as "Beeyatch," and on a fairly regular basis. I don't take offence to that. This is perfectly alright, as I frequently find myself calling him an asshole. It's okay, trust me... we have that special... it's like some sort of magic... um, right. We're assholes.

Trust me, I take more offence to him talking shit about my older Dell PC than I do him calling me names. It's the meat inside of the person that makes them. That, and since I turned around 17, being called names really hasn't effected me none, so it's cool, :-D!

Oh, a quick note to my friend with the journal, who's name I'm not mentioning-- I do read your journal, and on a daily basis. You need to update more often... and I'm stealing that flag for myself! :-D Well, I'll return to my computer at some point later on today, and give ya'll another update.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Friday, Mar. 21, 2003 at around: 1:28 AM

IQC and War, what a lovely combo! (A long..... entry)

Evenin' Pardner,

What's up? I just got in the house from getting my grub on with Sharee. We took a walk to the scary racist diner, and we had some breakfast-dinner. She's an interesting person. I worry about Sharee, because she lets her fears get a hold of her so often. She makes for a good friend, but sometimes I just wanna give her a big hug. Looking at her reminds me of what a little kid looks like. Hell, I'm a little kid too. What am I talking about? I don't know!

The scary racist diner is a place called the Melrose. It's this 50's diner, that has really been around since the 50's. I had this discussion with Sharee and Crazian John, and now I'll share it with everyone. Every time I go to the Melrose, wheather it be for a sit-down meal, or takeout, it always feels like they are so not welcoming me there. Sadly, I never feel blacker than I do in the melrose. It's one of those places that I imagine had seperate bathrooms or something. Maybe some dude got lynched in the kitchen... I don't know. I just get a weird feeling from being in there. So I keep going back.

I've never been one to stop doing something because people don't like me, or what I'm doing. Once my mind has been set in the gear of stubborn, it's kinda stuck there. Even if it's a stupid idea, I'm pretty bullheaded. So, even if going to the melrose is gonna get me lynched, I keep going in, because I think it offends the waitresses that a black girl tips well. Or at least I like to think that. I doubt it's true.

Okay... No more pie and ice cream for me after midnight.

There is a little club that I belong to, and it's becoming pretty trendy. Perhaps at some point you've heard of this club. You might even belong to this club, and not even know it. Even more of you may be yearning to become a member of the club. People everywhere are itching to become members, but they have no ideas of the concequences of saying our oath.

Sometimes it's better to take the damn blue pill.

I'm a proud, benefit check carrying, member of the I Quit Club. I'm not just the President, I'm also a client. Many of my frequent readers have been dying to become members for a while, and some of them are finally joining the "In" crowd, and following along. I ain't gonna name no names, but some people have been wanting to join for a while, but have been to afraid of the consequences... *cough*Illy!*cough*

Aperently it's pretty cool to be unemployed. Well, at least it's pretty cool to get the fuck out of retail. Everyone has been saying that it's time to get away from game stop. The little group of friends that surrounds me is filled to the brim with unsatisfied humans. These humans have bright minds, and troubled souls, as they're looking for something more fufilling. So, they desire to join the club.

Most other members of The IQC are much smarter than the president, as they have alterntives set up for themselves once they say the oath. Good for them. Still others have become members of da IBF club--- "I been fired." Sucks to be them.

Hmmm, now for some actual updating--

Yesterday was cool. I went to eat at this pizza joint with Crazian John. As we ate, he kept mentioning how he was glad that I was getting out of the house. Since I am the president of the IQC, I've had a lot of at-home-time on my hands, and I get a little -more- eccentric when I stay in the house a lot. So, being around other humans was a striking experince for me. That's ironic, because I didn't really want to go anywhere, and I was fairly content not seeing anyone for a few days.

John must have said, "I'm really glad you left the house," about seven times. That was probabally inspired by the fact that I was talking to the cheese on my pizza fries, and I insisted that I was fighting a battle with it.

I won.

Score: Pam 1, Pizza cheese 0. Right. So, we talked for a while at said pizza joint. We talked about the rut that everyone seems to be in, and how much everyone needs a little bit of insperation. Perhaps that's a global issue... who knows. The Crazian also made a comment about my eyebrows, so I went and got them waxed right after we parted ways. The nice asian family at the nail place kicked ass. I'm going to go back there sometime.

As for today, it was a good day. I recived two sit on my ass checks this afternoon, paid a couple of bills, went shopping, and saw my boyfriend. It hadn't dawned on me until last night, while chatting with Frank via IM that I hadn't seen him face to face in like four days. That isn't a terribly long time at all, but that made me miss him (que the high pitched "Awww"s). It's just that I've been spoiled for the past few weeks, getting to see him nearly every other day. I guess I'm lucky that way, because a lot of people don't get to see their boyfriends, or even their regular friends too often at all.

That was something else that frank had mentioned to me. I was bitching that I had seen my friends every single, excruciating, day for like, two weeks straight. That's something difficult for me to handle. Every now and again, I need a day without everyone else. He said something to me like, "Some people don't get to see their friends hardly at all," and I felt rather selfish... Oh yeah, thaaat's me! So yes, it was very nice to see him, and be able to make physical contact. Yay!

It's cool, because he and I are people who are very easy (sometimes too easy...) to get in touch with-- Cell Phones, IM, Email, Text messaging... and so forth. I just want to stay sure that I'm not over extending the amount of contact, because I know me, and there ain't nobody who needs too much of my ass. It used to be that I was refered to as annoying a lot, but I think that faded away just because I got nicer friends. *laughing and so on* Ah ha ha ha... Yeah, my friends aren't nice. ... Joking! Damn, don't scott hall me!

OH! News flash! I got some IM's and verbal, comments regarding the Little Mermaid parody. Thanks to everyone who mentioned that they got a chuckle out of that. Horray for humor.

Oh... Yeah, I forgot-- we're at war with those supposed Terrorists. I'm not a big fan of war. Well, no one really wants war, becuase there's a chance that your ass could be the next to be chewing on the wrong end of an atomic weapon. Realisticaly, there isn't much that we can do now. Yeah, that's terribly pessimistic coming out of yours truly, but even I can be a bit of a realist every now and again.

Okay, I've been rambiling since like, the third paragraph... I think I'm going to go to bed now.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Thursday, Mar. 20, 2003 at around: 11:29 AM

Part of that world?

Morning Partners,

My eyes are all crusty because the bed was vacated fairly recently. That, and I think I'm getting sick. It's dumb, because I've been *trying* to get sick all winter, and here comes spring, and I get a little sickly. Well, don't celebrate just yet, because I don't have a feaver yet. Take that one to your GRAVE.

Yeah... Aneeeway:

Yo, you guys should read this song that I butchered last night. It's terribly funny. This was actually inspired by a conversation with Frank the other day. I forget what the conversation was actually about... He said something like, "You're just mad because I live in a better neighborhood," or something like that. Then we started making refrences to Satan's song in south park, and Ariel's song in the little mermaid.

So, since I've had a little less than nothing to do for the past few days, I re-wrote Part of That World. I even sang it a couple of times, and recorded it using my karaoke machine. I need help. Please? Someone?

Part of South Jersey

Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl, The girl who has everything?
Everyone thinks that it's a fa�ade, when I say "awesome" and "Like, oh my gawd!" Looking around here, you'd think, Sure, she's from the suburbs
I've got country music a-plenty, I've got credit cards and Ked sneakers galore, You want turtlenecks? I've got twenty But who cares, no big deal I want more
I wanna be where the white people are! I wanna see, their rythymless dancin' Walking around in their pants, Whaddya call em? Oh� khaki
If you're Negro ya' don't get too far White skin's required for golf club membership An' playing that sport What's that game again? Hockey
Off where they walk, off where they run, Off where they fear getting arrested by no one Wanderin' free, wish I could move To New Jersey
What would I do if I could live Over that water? What would I pay to spend a day Safe in the suburbs?
Bet in jersey they understand... Bet they don't all have racist mothers.... Bright young people, Free and equal, Ready to stand!
And ready to know what the white people know, Ask 'em my questions and get some answers! What is a loan and why does it's interest,What's the word? Earn!
When's it my turn? Wouldn't I live, live to cross over The Walt Whitman bridge, away from these blues Wish I could move, to New Jersey!

Okay, that's all I've got for now. Remember, that's copywritten, fuckers. Look in that lower right hand corner, if you need a reminder. :-)

Love and adoration,

Pam