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wA Common Misconception |
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Exciting stories of a slightly less-than-average girl's monotonous life. Guitars, small towns, bad jokes, and chicken.
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wTuesday, February 10, 2004 |
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If I Die In A Combat Zone, Box Me Up And Ship Me Home
I tried to make an entry this morning, but my computer is dumb and everything I said was lost to the depths of time. I was in a much better mood at the time because it was before we had an incredibly depressing discussion about "Things They Carried" in my English class. Sweet Mother of Mercy. That was horrible. I wanted to cry for some reason. My teacher told us about he was almost drafted into Vietnam, but he narrowly escaped, on account of his finger, which was shattered by a piece of wood in a logging mill. His friend, who he had known from kindergarten through college, got drafted though...and he ended up being killed over there.
There are only two things that I really worry about obsessively and they are:
1. Dying in an airplane crash.
2. Being drafted.
Ah, fleck. Those things scare me quite a lot.
Anyway, my first post may have gone something like this:
I have a lot of homework, etc. Last night a bunch of people came over to Danica's room so Bobbi and I went outside to look around and demonstrate our Native American dance to a few strangers. That "Peaches" song came on the radio so I started singing along and some guy standing next to me started singing along as well. But neither of us acknowledged that the other one was singing along and...it was strange. Bizah! Yes.
Also worth noting is that I found Shorty (mi amigo de Santana) on some weird college dating site. I left him an insulting note because he is all emo now with the stereotypical emo haircut and jeans and the whole shebang. Shebang! Which wouldn't be so bad...except that it is way too trendy. Like at the hieght of this terrible emo wave he decides to go along with it. Heck, the wave may have already broken for all I know. Anyway, it wouldn't have been so bad if this disturbing change had happened earlier. Or maybe it would have. It is really weird either way.
So I guess that is all I said in my other post. And for some reason it put me in a slightly better mood.
In Math Lab (almost like meth lab...ha...ha...), I wrote a letter to Martin Van Buren, which I am considering including in this post, but I probably will not because it is almost time for your humble narrator to go eat dinner in the cafeteria. So, adios. Good luck in the near future.
posted by
Colleen at 5:29 PM
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wSunday, February 08, 2004 |
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I have 307 hours, 10 minutes, and 50 seconds of music on my Windows Media Player. I am going to try to listen to all of the songs within the next month.
posted by
Colleen at 1:39 PM
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Bobbi and I went to some Native American festival last night in the "field house." (According to The Bedford Handbook, it is incorrect to use quotation marks to "draw attention to familiar slang, to disown trite expressions, or to justify an attempt at humor." I choose to disregard this rule in informal writing.) So, we didn't have tickets (they cost $20), but we snuck in when no one was at the front counter. First we listened to a Native American comedian who denounced President Bush and, for some reason, Jehova's Witnesses. I think. The sound was pretty bad. Then we listened to some guy who was in Dances With Wolves sing a few songs, including (but not limited to) "Ring of Fire," during which he sounded exactly like Johnny Cash. Then some other people performed some songs. Then during some song called "Fire Bird" or "Fly Away" or "Fry Bread" or something, everyone got up and did this circle dance, so Bobbi and I joined them. And some guy took a picture of us.
It was fun.
posted by
Colleen at 1:35 PM
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