“I was talking to this other ballerina.”
Said my mother.

I'm sending this one out from my secret moon base. 2005 is fast approaching. That looks like the future to me. There's no looking back. There's no standing still. Off we go. Faster and faster. No, even faster than that. Warp speed. We're going to punch 2005 in the face and make it like it.

Christmas. Christmas. Christmas. I should write a big post and share all the little joys of the holiday but instead I'll just list some of the stuff I got. Because in the end that's what it's all about, right? Anyway. I got pants. I got shirts. I got books. I got a dvd (Oklahoma! I'm not sure why). I got some candy. I got a box of Cracker Jack. I got some cash. I got a gift certificate for Utrecht. I got a gift certificate for Borders. I got Mao's little red book (my brother went to China). I got some underwear. I got some undershirts. I got a deck of Incredibles playing cards. I got random art supplies. I got an **o* as a combination graduation/Christmas present from my parents. All in all, more than I deserve. Thanks, everyone.

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
14-1.

My sister doesn't get into town until later today so I've had to decorate the tree. Luckily it's pretty foolproof--just put everything you can find on. It's looking pretty sweet. Later today: Christmas Eve at my grandmother's house. Around 30 grandkids plus parents plus other hangers on packed into her tiny house on the South Side. Stuffed cabbage and pierogies. Pickled herring. The best food ever. That's not even mentioning dessert. Why do we have so many cakes and pies?
Peace on Earth.

Happy Festivus.

I've been using Limewire to try and find this dream I had last week. None of my keywords are working. I've been trying every combination. Kiss. Attic. Spit. First kiss. Attic kiss. Yellow light bulb glow. Saliva. I just can't find it. It's very frustrating.

"I don't know you
you don't like me
I don't know but
you don't strike me
as anyone who could ever like a boy who was not
stupid like you
like you."

I know I'm going to have to start doing shit again soon but damn if it isn't nice to spend a couple days just sitting around listening to Outkast and reading romance novels.

I graduated.
I wore a suit.
Aren't I special?

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
13-1.

As an American, is it a crime for me to throw away Canadian money? What am I supposed to do with that Canadian penny? I’m not planning on going to Canada any time soon. Anyone going to Canada? I could fish through the garbage for that penny? Anyone?
Cleaning up the mess you made during the semester is so much fun.

Stephen Herek is a genius. Critters, Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Wow. We'll forgive the rest. I think Man of the House will be a return to form. Bravo.

All done. I just have to go to graduation on Saturday and clean out my many lockers by Monday. On Saturday I officially go from being a student to being unemployed. Hurrah, hooray, horam!

"My time is almost through. Little left to do...": 1. Revise a paper for art history (tonight!). 2. Take art history test (next Wednesday! Monday morning, 8:00 am! I forgot my notebook in my locker so I can't study for the test tonight! I didn't want to anyway! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! ). 3. Finish two-page paper for acting class (Monday!). 4. Memorize and perform scene from the Odd Couple for acting class (two one weeks from yesterday! Monday tonight!). 5. Finish last print in etching (??? Tuesday Wednesday!). 6. Finish editions for etching class (??? Tuesday Wednesday!). 7. Print exchange print for etching class (maybe I should find out when these prints are due! Wednesday 2:00!). 8. Finish sketchbook for sculpture class (week from Thursday!). 9. Finish final sculpture project (week from Thursday!). 10. Burn bridges ("If I ever run into any of you bums on a street corner, just let's pretend we've never met before").

I'll make this damn thing sing someday soon.
Brush off the eight-legged-non-insect-non-animal webs.
Sputter and sob at some future tick of the clock.
Yes, yes, yes.
Don't you believe me, Darleen?
We'll float off this stinky island wearing stylish belts, by Odin!
I need a date for the prom.

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
12-1.

I don’t have an arch-enemy.
All the greats had an arch-enemy.
You’re nobody unless you have an arch-enemy.

Here we go Steelers.
Here we go.
11-1.

"SWM seeks SF to wear matching shoes with."