Finally, my dream at last! After spending months away from this thing called a "Playstation", I'm reintroducing myself into the swing of things--mostly, playing Final Fantasy Origins until Mother begins her high-pitched shrills. Ah, I do miss acting like an immature boy in the springtime. I don't know what caused me to escape to this horrific sort of trauma, aka "the fixation with beauty--a teenage girl's story", but I feel my boyishness slipping in and my self-absorbed girlness fading away faster than you can say "Mother! I set the curtains alight!"

Life was more simpler when I was 13. It's quite ironic, in a way. When I was that age I yearned to be an adult, spending my time with my kittens and future husband, living life the happy way. Now that I'm soon reaching adulthood, I wish I was back to being 13, or 12, or whatever age that permitted me the adolescent freedom I've lost. I don't think I ever gave myself the chance to ever have a childhood, and now that I have to face adulthood, I'm regretting it. Adulthood isn't what it's cut out to be. Adulthood is rather lame, to say the least.

Lesson to the 5-year-olds so eager to grow up: I'll beat ye with a stick before ye do anything aboot that!

Thus ends "Min's Lessons: With a Scottish Twist!" crazily-loved rant for the day. Ay...


Shortly after 5th period today, my teacher--yes, the one with that dreadful, evil lazy eye--walked around the classroom talking about some frivilous letter she felt obligated to write to the Pioneer Press, and somehow needed help in choosing a catchy, noticable subject line to catch the editor's attention. She also decided that somehow a room full of unattentive students could somehow help her in her endeavour, which I certainly cannot comprehend myself. There were a couple of moans following her announcment, followed by another set of moans, which was then followed by a couple of more moans, but she still went on about it.

"So, I was thinkin' of either settling on "New Guns Laws, Bar Hours Change, Less Police Force Stinks" or "New Gun Laws, Bar Hours Change, Less Police Force Equals Late-Night Duels"," she replied, after the last moan had been dealt with. Moans started once again, along with some uncomplimentary commentary, most notable Ryan's "Stinks is an immature way of saying it". I agreed with him halfway, but I stood my ground and stayed silent.

"Immature?" the teacher replied, a little disgusted,"Now, whaddya mean by that?"

"What I meant was, I certainly don't think anyone would take you seriously, or anything like that. Maybe if you said it was 'utter chaos', or something, maybe that would work."

"No," said Maggie, the blonde-haired girl of the group," You should say it sucks."

"Well, Maggie, I don't want to use such foul language such as THAT. Ryan's got a good idea, actually!"

"Well, come on," rebegan Maggie," I think it's great! They'll understand you if you say that."

"No," said the teacher," I think I'll go do that. Maybe 'utter destruction' would be better?"

"No, I think that's a bit too dramatic," replied Ryan. I still sat reticent and oblivious to what was going on at the time. I wanted to say something at the time, mostly "Maggie, if you say 'it sucks', I certainly wouldn't take that article or the person writing it very seriously,", but my reserved mood got the best of me. I stayed silent until the end of the period. (As usual!)

I'm too sardonic at time, methinks.


Not too long ago, I was sent a "weird list", or a list of abnormalities a certain person had. Out of curiousity, I did it myself.

The Weird List. By yours truly, MSP.

1. I have this loathing to being on the right side of objects.

2. I have trouble walking down stairs.

3. My favourite sandwich: Gardenburger with complimentary mustard, Jif peanut butter, and mozzerella cheese.

4. I used to count how many wrestling shirts people wore to school, and on the average, I found 4 or 5 a day.

5. On a nation-wide test, I scored 100% above all students in the USA on Science. I scored 99% above all students in the English category. Irony at work, perhaps?

6. Year 7 I kept all my school papers and kept them in a little folder, and I regularly worked ahead and read ahead chapters in textbooks. Translation? Nerd.

7. I don't have my driver's permit.

8. I'll take on accents by accident--mostly either Londonerish or Asian, depending on my surrondings.

9. I haven't written in American English for 4 years.

10. I read the dictionary for fun.

11. I was a childhood slut.

12. I've always wanted to be born a male.

13. I almost burned down my kitchen with a stick and the gas stove.

14. I supposedly have many talents: Drawing, writing, composing music, cooking, sewing, massaging, etc. All with the hands, sir!

15. I sleep at least 12 hours a day; sometimes I'll take naps and get in 15 or 16 hours.

16. I've always wanted a father figure in my life.


My sometimes described 'humourous sobriety' leads me into some recollected ponderings that are fair called "shallow" or "vain" by many people, myself included. Most of the time I'm not inclined to tell about it, but when I do, I always get a disgusted response and then I go about my business forgetting the whole matter. Of course, knowing that I do not forgive the ignorant commoner, it isn't completely erased and the grudge lasts for quite a while. Sometimes I will go to great extremes to exact a greater harm on the person's idiocy--but in the end I prove my idiocy even more this way. Safe to say I'm a person with a stubborn front.

This was a rather strange, coincidental discovery of mine whilst bathing in the sun the other afternoon, and I'm still not completely sure why my mind decided to settle on this matter--maybe my vainness these past few weeks has finally infested my brain--but I haven't left this thought alone ever since.

Why is it that the more religious one gets, the more disfigured or unattractive they become?

Maybe, I figure, it's because they're too devoted to spend time to take care of their hygiene. Like my friend!...but I better stop the "you're not a very clean person!" rant before I get my own hinder on the wooden cross before the crack of dawn. I'd imagine Christians can be pretty vengeful. Or insane. Might be a mix of the two. Damn those puerile fiends...

Maybe I shall conduct a study about this troubling matter.


Harken! I have grown weary and unable to walk from the 5-mile journey I took yesterday morn', and am not the one to be fondled whilst in a crabby-ish mood. Quite crabby-ish I am, since I had planned to walk to Barns' Bluff for another day of solitute from all this bustle people refer to as life. Life is a complicated matter, yes, and one does need a break from it once in a while. Sometimes I wonder if I'm more suited to be a farmwoman, spending all my days feeding cows and laying down in the long grasses of the hilly pasture at noon, letting my stomach grumble and my mind wander off into the clouds of ecstasy...

Okay, methinks I may be getting a bit deep here. It always happens on the weekends when I'm left alone to think. Thinking isn't usually the best thing for me if you know who I am, the psycho anti-commoner.

I'll go baste in the sun and rot again. Tootle-dee-loo! (I'm not normal!)


Despite my own arrogant and masochistic ways, I'm not too horrible. At art, that is.

As I went about my merry way to my locker this afternoon, a girl came rushing through the hallway, muttering obscenities and screaming random commands at people, mostly "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" Slightly vexed at this unpolite scene, I opted for another route, but she still came rushing right towards me. People were being pushed all around as she stormed through there like the big drama queen she is, but still, she had to head my direction.

She came to my left, mien not too pleasant for the eyes, and directly said into my face "I said move!". There, she pushed me aside and proceeded stomping like an elephant. At first, I was disgusted, as everyone could've seen and hear from the mumblings I usually...mumble when I'm irritated. Mostly mumblings of a "youbitchyoutryingtotestmewellfuckyou!!!godfuckingstupidbitchyoufuckingprepiouttakillyouandchopyouintolittlebits!" nature.

Then I forgot about it for a while. But of course, rude people irritate the bugger out of me.

Cliche prep, anyone?