I hate it when Robbie plays drums. Don't get me wrong, I love Robbie, the drums are just one of the instruments that only one person can think about and play when everyone in the rest of the house just tries to cope with the sound. Here's something to live by: You can't fucking concentrate when someone is playing drums. That's why drums are so loud during concerts, and quiet sort-of background music to the vocals on mixed songs.
I can never remember pushing the body-sponge to the other side of the shower when I am in the shower... I'm beginning to think it's moving itself to that spot, or someone is helping me get it over there without me seeing them. I would believe it since my eyesight is so bad. I couldn't put the cinnamon incense stick back into the incense holder while i was in the shower and had my arm sticking out. The holder was on the windowsill. It's really not that far. Eventually, I just had to give up. I'm so blind. < Sometimes I'm thankful for it, though. Especially when I'm in the shower. I really hate looking down at my feet and seeing rolls in the way. The two most obvious things that make me a woman are the most insignificant on my body. My boobs are hardly a 34B, but that's the size bra I have to wear. Models are 32A's. Models are stick-skinny. I am medium-large. I have to wear extremely padded B bras so that my back and my chest are not screaming for room all day. My straps never stay up. If I reach above my head, my bra runs up onto sensitive parts of my boobs, and it is insanely painful. I think I'm the only girl in most of my classes that readjusts the bra I'm wearing 400 times a class. That's 400 times per 50 minutes.

Contrary to the hate I have for my body when I am looking directly at it in the shower, I love looking at myself in the mirror alone in my room. Human anatomy is amazing. Especially the fact of how different my body is to everyone else’s. If everyone in the world [or at least in Colorado] thought the same way I think of myself when I'm alone in my room looking in a mirror, the world would be non-judgmental. If EVERYONE thought of each other like that, the universe would be non-judgmental. Secretly, I think it's one of the best parts of being a human. Every singly thing about us is different. Everything. I don't know one person who has natural bleach blonde eyebrows, but a lot of people I know are blonde like I am. Mostly gingers have blonde eyelashes, but I have naturally blonde hair. One of my eyebrows is always higher than the other. My left hand is smaller than my right. Boys have big muscles, girls have hips. And evolution is even still taking place to this very day. Not only in animals, but in us Homosapians.

I have this friend - well probably ex-friend. She still talks to me, but I think she dislikes me for not calling her during the summer [which I didn't do because I knew she was in DC with her dad... whatever.] - who is missing three toenails on her right foot. She was born like that. In my mind that makes perfect sense! Who needs toenails anymore when we have shoes and socks? It's evolution, and it's fascinating.

When I get so bored that I think about evolution and anatomy, sometimes, I look up porn. Who doesn't? I think everyone has at least twice, even if on accident. I'm pretty sure it's because everyone talks about the internet only being for porn... like that one song says [although I believe people would be looking up the dictionary if it was talked about as much as porn is. People put too much of an emphasis on sex and nudity in this country. No one cares. Look up pictures of African natives. They're all naked, and it's because that's their culture]. It doesn't matter, anyway. Sure it will crash your computer if you do it too much, but most of the real porn is expensive as hell.

It's just like America to do something like that, too. Capitalism is the name of the game over here. Whoever said "Capitalist pigs will bury themselves" was beyond right [my mom says that a lot and I guess she said it... so quote credit to Erin Wymer]. Almost ex-president [SOON!] Bush got two shoes thrown at him the other day at a press-conference in Afghanistan, and he laughed. He fucking laughed. His wife is divorcing him and forcing him to pay her 250,000$ a year for not releasing personal information about him in a book and he laughs at the reporter who was so outraged with him that he threw, not one!, but two shoes at his face. This man was re-elected on the basis that he would keep America safe from "terrorists." This man laughed at a shoe flying at his face at an exclusive press-conference where he had secret service that did not stop the man before he threw the second shoe. This man, this G-Dubya man who allowed most of the world and the citizens he was in charge of running everything for to hate him, is a terrorist. This government, that stole NIN songs from Trent Reznor to use during torture in Guantanamo Bay without even notifying him, is a terrorist organization. This government needs help, but thank god it is getting it in January.

I think it is hilarious how teachers refuse to tell their students their thoughts on politics. The only teacher I've ever had who really did that was Mr. Lawson. My favorite class this semester was Man, Myth & Magic. Lawson created this class because he is an amazing person, a teacher and man who really does 'think outside the box' and gets it done and carries it out. Thanks to that class, I am a better person. I feel like Trent Reznor, NIN-fans, and I are not the only people who think how we do. It makes me feel good knowing this.

I adore my English teacher, too. His name is Mr. Barkley. He gave me an extension on my Hamlet paper. I loved that book. Hamlet is a fascinating character, and I wish I would've had even longer to write the essay. It was cathartic, and essays are one of my most favorite things to write about. If I ever get famous, or well-known or prestigious for something and anything I will thank him. I will also thank everyone who stayed my friend when they moved away, or when I moved away, and is still my friend to this day. My family, of course, will be thanked as well.

I finally gave into dying my hair darker, because my mind has always wanted to be more shaded. People don't gock at my bleached blonde hair anymore, and since I cut allll the deadness off the ends of my hair, it is growing back at such a rapid rate, it is almost unbelievable.

Cinnamon is my favorite smell next to pumpkin spice and plain old pumpkin. I also love gas. Weed smells really bad when you aren't high. Cigarettes really do disgust me, but if someone has cigarette smell on their clothes, it smells like my daddy.

I’ve lost 8-10 lbs [it depends on the day I guess] taking this Phentermine pill. The only person who is proud of me is, of course, my mom.

I love the smashing pumpkins. I downloaded their discography about a year ago, and I never listened to it until this year when I got tired of only listening to nin [as I do every month or so... It comes in waves]. Every song by the smashing pumpkins sounds so precise, prefect, clean, chaotic, and trippy. It's the perfect mix of music-to-strange-voice-to-pretty-lyrics ratio.

Nine inch nails will always be my favorite band. Trent Reznor, I believe, has to be my one true love or something. I dream about him, I think about him, I see him everywhere. His lyrics are perfection. He is my Jesus Christ, as well as my god almighty. I would have a heart-attack if I met him alone. If i was with someone, I would not speak until the person I was with pretended like they didn't know who he was and introduced him to me. I would shake uncontrollably and only smile. I would probably cry. I would be able to make no words or sentences that made sense to anyone. He would laugh and move on to someone else wanting to meet him, and actually able to speak to him.

I wish I knew more boys or people in general who appreciated him as much as I do. I found two people in my man myth and magic class, but much, much too late. The Friday before finals week.

I am trying to be more friendly to people I don't know previously to the occasion I am trying to carry out. It's so hard.

We all live on this earth; we're all here together in this century. We all are living together.

I wrote this randomness in notepad, because I have been writing essays almost three weeks straight in word. Word dies unexpectedly, but I got a 98% on my man myth paper. Oh, how I do indeed love Mr. Lawson.