backpack dreams

For all the work and stress the actual "Submit" button itself was pretty disappointing.  Actually, I think I'd prefer to have a gigantic red button to smash with both of my fists to complete my application. Or at least some kind of lever. The yellow rectangle just doesn't do it for me.
Anyway, gotta catch 'em all~

Labels: ~

This whole website thing is ridiculous, I am going to get some ice cream.


Ok, I'm back, and the ice cream tasted like my freezer and was chalky.
And I didn't know ice cream could be chalky, but it was.

I despise how my grandma always tries to sneakily peek into my room to see what I am doing. And if I happen to turn around in time, she always just walks in like she had some previous business and starts shuffling papers and mumbling to herself. I always know when she's about to come into my room because their bedroom door is creaky as hell and our walls are paper thin.
I hate mah house.

So I was going to finish my UC statements tonight but I got distracted and started watching "CNN Heroes," which was fun. But now that I've forced myself to the computer, I don't know. I have a horrible work ethic.
On an unrelated note, apparently Mother's Cookies Animal Cracker Shindiggies are back, and I feel stupid because when I heard they were going bankrupt I bought this bag of their crackers and held on to it as a memento. I shouldn't of just eaten before it expired. Which reminds me, I bought this mini Toblerone bar because I saw that it expired on December 24th. So I am going to eat them triangle pyramids on Christmas Eve. Yes. I've had that bar since September, I think. And I am so proud.

I noticed I often tend to make typos within this blog; I correct them shamelessly.

Wait, what? Sometimes when I type, I don't really think, and I just type, and then when I read the words on the screen, it's almost like I'm thinking those thoughts for the first time. But not really, because that would be crazy.
Dayum, hows a nigga gonna cop some creme-covered Or-yos this time of day? I want dem, really, I do. I saw some at Terget today but they were of the Mint Chip variety. Da hale!?
And a related note, while stereotyping blacks is on the agenda: I refuse to watch "Precious." I don't care what sort of Emmy/Grammy/Nobel prize talk there is, it seems dumb to me. Apparently the protagonist thinks it makes sense to steal a bucket of chicken? I know I'm taking it out of context, I read this bit on a certain someone's Facebook shitatus, but still, the situation would have to be pretty outstanding for me not to think badly about a scene from a movie in which a black girl, from the ghetto, steals a bucket of chicken in rabid desperation. I can't help but imagine all the other black people within range rushing out of their homes to chase after Precious and her coveted chicken. (Accompanied by the Benny Hill Theme Song, of course.)
Just not my type of movie, I guess. Plus, everyone knows the general American audience has a 400x harder time empathizing with an overweight protagonist, it's proven scientific fact. Unless you are Chris Farley (fat guy, little coat) or Fat Albert (fat guy, plays in garbage dump), it ain't happening. John Goodman, maybe.
I mean, seriously, stealing a bucket of chicken, really? If the character really had to stoop that low, why not make her do an equally desperate and harmless, but more exciting, crime? Like indecent exposure? I'd pay to see that in a film. (And I have. Ladies.)
I mean, is the audience supposed to be on the edge of its seat as Precious, the beloved protagonist, goes on the lam with a receptacle of fried poultry? (Synonyms.)
And who are we supposed to feel bad for? There are too many parties involved.
You have to consider Precious, the chicken, the owner of the restaurant, PETA, the rightful owner of the bucket of chicken, and Precious (she's fat enough to count twice).
And wouldn't the chicken get cold from all that wind shear? It makes no sense, guys.

Don't hate me for hating Precious.

Labels: Am I using the semicolon correctly?

I cannot sleep! But I don't want to do anything productive, either.

Over dinner my dad started talking about his old girlfriend (h.d.g.f., handy dandy girlfriend), Chelsea, and how he "accidentally" nudged some sort of snow-covered canopy, which ended up getting Chelsea totally covered in snow.
(More like Chill-sea, right? Covered in snow... yes... it's like her parents named her that way just for my excellent pun. It's like an ocean of cold.)
Anyway, I remembered she was the one who taught me how to double-knot my shoelaces. Weird how you remember things like that.
She also died of lung cancer, funny thing is that she wasn't a smoker. So just bad luck, I guess. My dad told me that when she was diagnosed he would call her, and she would just be completely silent and then hang up. I wonder what went through her head. Sometimes I feel like I romanticize death too much. Well, I guess some deaths are more epic than others. I guess it's all in the context.
Anyway, I also remember watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade on her tiny TV in her apartment. I couldn't have been older than 8, now that I think about it. I also think my dad and her left me and my sister in her apartment so they could go on a date. Maybe they went to go watch the parade.

People yelling and arguing in a language I can barely understand.

Wonderful! What a lovely family, this is.

Well, it's not so bad. I'm starting to think that this is just the way my dad and grandmother communicate.

(112 years ago)

The fucking pencil sharpener! And all of you better be grateful, because if it wasn't for John Lee Love, we'd be sharpening pencils with kniiiiiiives and shit, and we all know that wouldn't end well for most of us.

And I'm sure this guy was good looking too; his last name was Love, for God's sake. And plus, he was black (ladies).

I want to make another sandwich but I fear being seen making it by my grandma.

Off to make another sandwich.

Labels: right?, this IS twitter

Woe is moi

I woke up about 10 minutes ago from this really satisfying dream about school, only to realize I still haven't started my Physics homework (or finished any of my college things, for that matter [or even started any of my math homework, for the matter of that matter]).
My dream was weird, needless to say. It involved Mrs. Miner, I'll give you that much.

I realized there was a meteor shower so I got really excited and went outside to look, but my neck started hurting, and I couldn't spot any, so I came back. I did see more stars than I had seen in a while though. I saw the Big Dipper, I think, and various other constellations the names of which I've long forgotten.
And at first I was kind of sad I didn't get to see any meteors (although I'm almost positive I just wasn't looking hard enough), but the cold helped me get over it quickly.
And this came later, but I also took comfort in the fact that these meteors would "shower" whether I watch them or not, or whether anyone watches them, really. And that there have been meteors whirling (somewhere) through space every single Earth night (and Earth day) of my life (and at an exactly constant velocity! isn't that weird?). And how at this very moment, there are black holes sucking and super massive volcanoes blowing and suns dying and planets colliding and whatever other epic shit happens in space, happening!
Even the constellations are enough for me, they're always there, and they'll always  be there, whether you look up or you don't (well, until they die, I guess).
And even after us humans become extinct (It'll happen!), the sun will continue to rise and set, with or without us (or DST).

And then I could go on to describe all the things in nature that would continue blah blah blah blah blah blah roosters crowing flowers opening and closing california wildfires waves tsunamis snowstorms blizzards bear attacks earthquakes giant squid battle royales

humans are tiny

Labels: "a controversy of poets", biding my time, cold fingers, leonid meteor shower, only one use of italics, rant, sorry sagan

Basically stayed up until now procrastinating something that I thought I would turn in tomorrow, only to find an excuse to do it some other day.
Now I am awake.
I am also very behind on math homework.

All this college stuff makes me want to go pee.

Today was a very good, intentionally unproductive day.

I kind of feel bad for not doing all the work I should have, but only a little bit.
Just a teensy bit.

Takka takka takka takka takka takka takka takka takka takka takka.

Lotsa of people spell my name "Mathew" instead of  "Matthew." Which I don't really understand.
And I've been going to Starbucks lately, since I got da gift card (see?), so this is where I notice it da most.
And a lot of da times I can tell which o' dem cashiers spell it right and which ones will spell it wrong, see? It's sorta a humperdink to explain how. I just know.
There's no real single telling feature, either, it's more of just like an overall kind of thing, dere.
And I'm not trying to hate on doze "Mathew"ers out dere; but when I get doze two "t"s dere on my drink, it makes it dat much tastier.

I dreamt that my dad bought a pet ferret or otter shit, and I was feeding it. It also involved me fighting some humongous sea serpent, and I think Elijah Wood was involved.
Also, I think it was Thanksgiving.