DEAR PHYSICS,

I have several bones to pick with you.

(a) Fucking die, please.

(b) Twelve straight hours of you is more than enough to drive most people permanently insane.

(c) Why is there a test on you tomorrow.

(d) Did you know that I've drank three cups of ... coffee-tea-mutant-lovechild in order to prepare for the agonizing all-nighter I will inevitably pull just to get something out eventually. Preferably a TezuFuji AU of some sort. :( A couple of the tezukafuji fantasy prompts are making my fingers giddy, and the most recent one makes me laugh like a loon because, oh, I remember that fic, and I remember how much that affected me the first time I read it. Oh, Tezuka, you psycho.)

I also have the strange urge to write this entirely in British spelling just to see how much I loathe connecting him to the Internet, so I'm on Tezuka right now -- and if you know how unwilling I am to be online right now. Or until Oshitari stops being retarded.

Also, re: Tezuka/Atobe Shirota/Kazuki fanservice: LALALLAALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU. This has nothing to do with the fact that you might have to install it twice for it to actually work. T^Tb

Plus the default skin is hot.

(I'm not getting any comment notifications, so if I've ignored you with any of my journals today, I'm very sorry.)

Today, I dragged my family to Cold Stone. My mother called it 冷石頭 on the phone, which I found funny.

Daddy kept saying over and over that it was a good idea to go. :D

I have a LL schedule. :D But, eh, might as well put up a to-do list; () means doing tomorrow is okay:

- vergil lines 190-211
- limits review
- (physics stuff)
- (gov stuff)
- english disc. q's
- lamplighter schedule
- lamplighter STUFF xD
- (die)
- (pack for mount holyoke)

ATTN MOST DEAREST JESSICA TANG:

I HAVE SUBMITTED MY UC APPLICATIONS. WITH SIX HOURS TO SPARE, EVEN.

MY ESSAYS SUCK.

AND I'M NOT GETTING IN.

I hope this pleases you.

HAY GUYZ.

Nobody cares, but both Kara and I are conspicuously dead of stomach flu. Unless Kara made it to school. In which case, *I* am conspicuously dead of stomach flu.

Though I actually feel perfectly okay now. It's just. I didn't yesterday (ask Kara; she was here |Db) which means today is going to be spent doing everything I would have done yesterday had I not been dead of stomach flu.

<- hasn't thrown up since she was 8.
<- bleeeeeeeeeeeeargh.

Also, I'm hungry but if I eat anything I'LL THROW IT UP WHOO. [drinks another gallon or three of gatorade]

The mentor breakfast was interesting, to say the least.

Felt like very long ago, however. Right now, I'm wearing the Vocal dress, which is sleek and shiny and feels like water. Because we have to perform. In front of 1000 people. At the Dancing with the Staff event. Normally this would not faze me. That we are missing FIVE PEOPLE of our SIXTEEN does faze me.

Wow, I was totally going to say something just now and it completely slipped my mind. Oh, right! Daddy's home. ._. With Tezuka's replacement. ._.

._.

._.

._.

._.

*whimper* Tez.

M: I have condoms. Want some?
C: What.

Gacked from the pedophile herself:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

( iTunes is either insane or completely brilliant. )

DEAR PHYSICS,

I have several bones to pick with you.

(a) Fucking die, please.

(b) Twelve straight hours of you is more than enough to drive most people permanently insane.

(c) Why is there a test on you tomorrow.

(d) Did you know that I've drank three cups of ... coffee-tea-mutant-lovechild in order to prepare for the agonizing all-nighter I will inevitably pull just to get something less pathetic than a D- on said test?

(e) No, seriously. You can die now. I will put garlands of expensive roses and roast duck on your grave on a monthly -- nay, weekly -- basis if you'll just take this hemlock and this vat of cyanic acid and shove it down your measly throat. I hate you more than Shakespeare. How is that even possible.

(f) And now I have to go back to attempting to make heads or tails out of the damn Greek letters you went and bastardized and trying to read Mr. Wahl's entirely illegible chicken scratch. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Die.

Love, kisses, and 12.0M sodium hydroxide,
me.

What the subject said. Ongoing crises; will be crossed out when resolved.

• Karin needs notifying of Mentor Breakfast AAAH.
  
• E-mail Downum about Mentor Breakfast.
  
• Anime Club flyers/announcements need to be prepared by Tuesday.
  
• Dress, which is some three feet too long and too large in both bust AND hip areas (argh. argh argh argh.), must be properly hemmed and fitted. By Thursday.
  
• Physics test Wednesday.
  
• MENTOR BREAKFAST on Thursday; needs business-y clothing and self esteem.
  
• Dancing with the Staff on Thursday; VOCAL WILL BE MISSING CRUCIAL PEOPLE
  
• Hamlet test/things due Friday.
  
• UC APPS.
  
• TREBUCHET!!!!11!!.

If you have trebuchet building tips, please come forward. ._.

...?

Cute.

Very cute.

The greatest thing about applying to college is Williams' supplement.

The greatest thing about Williams' supplement is that they ask you for your parents' college and graduate school information.

The greatest thing about your parents' college and graduate school information is that they don't remember it. ("Uh," she says, "I'm not sure what my degree was. It might have been-- no, wait.")

The greatest thing about them not remembering their own damn degrees is that you get to pillage the closet for their college and graduate school diplomas.

... my dad looked like the guy who plays Clark Kent on Smallville. It is an astounding and frightening likeness which, I am afraid, does not quite carry on today.

*

Would anyone mind filling out my Johari window? It's for a good cause! Like, uh, college applications. I think that's a good cause. (Heeey Princeton. What's up.)