So I'm sitting here creepy!grooving to Black Mirror when I hear this huge series of explosions. I'm not talking the comforting echoey *pmff!* *ffvvv-pah!* *pumpumumpaaah* noises I've been hearing from over the hills all evening. I'm talking, someone several houses down the street setting off fireworks over the trailer court.

I figured if I was going to have my residence burned down I could at least get some good pictures out of it. I'm on a sort of corner, so I had a good view of shadowy figures setting stuff up in the middle of the street, and also of the firework that "fell over!", so they cried.

It looked like this:



Only instead of blossoming in the sky it exploded all over the street, several yards, and the family setting up the fireworks.

They're still going, too.

The internet tells me that there is a YouTube video of Stephen Colbert dancing to "I Can't Decide", but I cannot find it.

Also, I heartily advise YouTubing "Die Eier Von Satan". For best results, try and find a music video that gives you nightmares!

Y'know, the Twilight Zone circa 1950s-60s seems more (I assume unintentionally) homoerotic than I would have expected.

Settling down from fragments: There's something deeply comforting about playing Spider Solitaire. Feels like it connects me to past times, when I actually knew what was going on.

Not in any sort of grand philosophical way, I mean. Or at least I don't think so. I've just felt sort of confused lately. Past few days, hours, something. Like there's something that I'm waiting for, or need to do, or want to do but am forgetting that I can go do. It's probably just a mix of several small things that count under "wait, need, want". I can't keep them all in my mind at once, so there's always a few on the edge of thought that bother me.

That's probably it. Although it feels like it could also be a sort of amnesia where I'm forgetting something that I've already done (that I feel like I should remember, 'cause it was awesome).

That, or I've developed precognitive abilities and am picking up on something big that I'm about to do.

FANDOMS. ALL I CAN REMEMBER OF THE LAST FEW DAYS IS FANDOMS.

Little-known fandoms (indie fandoms, if you will)--internet fandoms, but I love them all the same. And the tight-knit communities that rise up around them are just as much fun to lurk in as the big mainstream groups.

All right, what I'm mostly talking about here is webcomics.

I finish one, I experience a loss of purpose, I promptly start something else that reminds me of it--similar characters, similar style, whatever--and I keep going, until I realize that I've just read two e-books and five webcomics and some fanfiction and a fictional diary, within three days.

In general, I mean. Like, usually this is what happens. This time I haven't actually reached that state yet. A webcomic or two, an online story. I crave more, but may be stopping now because... frankly, my eyes are starting to glaze over.

Also, when you zoom through several fandoms quickly they start to blend in your mind. Well, they do in mine. I misremember plots; characters that aren't supposed to be sympathetic become so because they remind me of other characters...

The stories that make me think are the worst to deal with, when I'm in this state. Now I feel like I've come to all these realizations, and I know I did as I was reading ("Ooh! I never thought of the world like that before!") but y'know where the new knowledge is going? That's right. Straight to my subconscious, do not pass "conscious knowledge", do not collect $200. This is why I go from the gut more than I'd rationally like--deep down I've got a lot of ideas stored and/or a lotta shit figured out.

So I'm coming down off the fandom high, but now that I'm sort of on the verge of this multi-fandom craziness I feel like I should describe the emotion. For posterity. Or so that others can identify it. Or... because writing a LiveJournal entry is the alternative to skipping off to yet another webcomic.


Birds just started chirping outside like it's sunrise, but it's a 7:45 PM twilight zone and clouds are covering the alla the western sky except a thin strip of orange. 'S sort of surreal.


And now, on to TVTropes!

I WASHED MY HAIR LIKE TWICE LAST NIGHT AND THEN THIS MORNING IT HAD DRIED SO I WAS RUNNING MY HANDS THROUGH IT AND I FOUND A TICK.

IN MY HAIR.

A FUCKING LIVE TICK.

LIKE SOME SORT OF BLOODSUCKING OEDIPAL* SPIDER IT WAVED ITS FRONT LEGS AT ME AND I RAN INTO THE BATHROOM WITH IT ON A TISSUE TO KILL IT WITH FIRE

BY WHICH I MEAN WATER

*Re: "Motherfucking", but "Oedipal" fits the meter better.


Even though my heart is far too weak to deal with more than one of those monstrosities, the tiny little seed ticks bother me the most. I found one behind my ear, meaning that they are crafty little bastards and the fact that I only found one anywhere makes me suspicious.


Ah, well. Yesterday was fun, anyway, and probably worth small amounts of Lyme Disease. (But if I end up in a hospital I'll be a tad pissed. Especially if they end up shaving off all of my hair to diagnose the disease like they did on House and Scrubs.)

ACT scores, predicted vs. actual.

English: 35 34 (Eh.)
Reading: 33 35 (Muahaha!)
Science: 30 28 (Hmph.)
Math: 20 28 (WTF? AHAHA)

Total: 31.

I'm taking it a few more times 'cause I'd really like a higher score than anyone else I know a 34. I don't really care if it's 34, 35, 36--it's all more or less the same thing past a certain point, and even if I scored perfectly on the ACT I still would not reach the level of genius displayed in Gray Ambition.


It freaking rhymes, dude.

Y'know, Christian-bashing (sorry, "all-the-adherents-of-any/all-given-religion(s)-bashing") atheists sorta remind me of pretentious music fans.

"All mainstream bands god-worship worldviews SUCK and anyone who listens to their music subscribes to those beliefs is an IDIOT. It is BLATANTLY OBVIOUS that no good mainstream bands gods exist. Also, if you're not against everything mainstream everything religious and/or spiritual, you are one of the SHEEPLE and OBVIOUSLY against good music in genres other than "mainstream" SCIENCE AND RATIONALITY."
"Hey man, I like indie science too... And my favorite songs beliefs aren't inherently inferior to yours just because yours are more obscure (er) loved by fewer raging nutbags than mine are Um, mine're valid too, is what I'm saying."
"NO U"


Then again, I guess even though we have no evidence for or against gods, the fact that we don't sort of backs up the atheists. And the theists who believe that we're watched over by a god who is honor-bound not to interfere. And the theists who believe that god is EVERYWHERE WHOOO and is seen in the beautiful fractals of a tree etc instead of just a giant looming face from the clouds.

Wait, scratch that, I hear rumbling from above outside. Gonna go check to see if a god is yelling at my neighborhood, BRB.

I don't know why I find this so funny.


( FUCK YEAH, LISTING )


I guess my brain is telling me that I need to join the punk rock subsect. Or at least go to an indie rave. 1 and 3 support the first, while 1 and 2 (and my musical preferences) support the second?

Flipping through music channels on TV, I passed a channel I do not listen to often--instrumental versions of apparently "famous" songs.

But then I flipped back. Because some awesome shit was going down.

STRING INSTRUMENTS (violins that absolutely sing, and what I think was some lower bass string with breathtaking resonation). POWERFUL DRUMS (oh drums, I love you in every way). AND APPARENTLY (although I only discovered this later) IT'S IN 6/8 (the best of time signatures!) AND IT'S A WALTZ (and that's when the song officially slipped into Full of Win territory and I had to write about it).

And I think I've used up my parenthesis allowance for this entry.

So I am officially pimping Kiss From a Rose. Well, the instrumental version, anyway. Guess I'll get around to hearing the normal one at some point. But I scanned the lyrics and they involved the words "sea" and "snow" so I think it's sort of mandatory that I like them.

Took the ACT yesterday. Yesterday? God, it was yesterday. This has been a wonderfully long weekend. Even in summer I still like it when days seem to stretch on when I look back at them.

And since it is summer, I have of course gone nocturnal, so the ACT, yeah, I took it on five hours of sleep. XD I couldn't fall asleep any earlier than two! IT WAS AN IMPOSSIBILITY.

A bit ill and not willing to let my mind and body make contact, I turned outward (for once) and didn't think. I just observed my surroundings. Namely, Corey and Sam, who were in the same room as me. It was sort of amusing, to try and figure out what they were thinking.

SAM: Ohh god, what did I do last night?
COREY: Dum-dee-dum. Oh look, a Punnett square on the chalkboard in the front of the room. I wonder what the "P/p" alleles were meant to be.
SAM: *rubbing his eyes* The Rascal Flatts concert, right... And there was this smell, like my wacky uncle's old plaid suits...
COREY: Wouldn't ya know it, I think the "5" button is sticky on this calculator. Oh well. It should still work pretty well.
SAM: And some kind of blonde blur... God, I need a Vicodin...
COREY: Hmm, I see now that there is a bulletin board next to me. "20 Little-Known Facts About the Human Body", huh? I wonder if any of them are dirty. *reads*
SAM: *fumbles with his box of supposed Tic-Tacs and then pops one in his mouth in textbook drug-addict fashion* Hoo, that stops the shakes...


As for me, I had tons of free time after the English and Reading sections and by then I was a bit more awake. And so I ended up having some of these "thoughts" things myself. Well, sort of.


ME: *taps pencil* *twirls hair* *yawns, stretches*
ME: ...
ME: Now Mary...
ME: *starts headbanging bopping lightly, barely mouthing words* Why'd ya have to go and bring me down?
ME: ...I'm so so-rry...
ME: *guitar* Chk-chk-unna DAH NAH NAH


Did I mention I was sitting in the back?

Apparently something like sixty mph of tornado fury is heading for my humble little trailer court. Well, so my grandmother says. It looks as though the entire five-minute rainstorm has passed overhead, but I guess that clear-sky tornados do happen.

( Here is a picture of the sky, from which disaster may or may not come. )

If I don't make it through this harrowing ninja tornado ordeal, someone get me a damn thread on Fark.com. Be sure to mention that I am an eminently hittable redhead (although probably less so after the whole death thing).

...Hoo boy, those clouds are really starting to move.


EDIT: Drizzling. Sky an interesting shade of purple. At least three neighbors have packed up the family and left. Told u i was hardcore.

REVENGE OF EDIT: Back home. No tornados here. Just showered off the stench of relatives' dogs. Also a kitty-cat! Pictures tomorrow of red sky at night, which may or may not be delightful. And maybe the kitty-cat.


SON OF EDIT: ( Pictures. )

So, yesterday was the last day of school.

Here I'd start going on about how it's a time to reflect over the last year and see how I've grown as a person, etc., except I don't buy into that BS. And even if I did, this year wasn't a very reflective year. It was dull, and most dull things tend to be bad at reflecting.

That was a joke, see, using the double meanings of "reflective" and "dull".

Ahem.

However! I guess this could be counted as "reflective"--for a few weeks, I've been planning on posting some of the things I've written this (school) year, once it was officially over. I don't have as many to post as I thought, unfortunately.

There was another one about dinosaurs, which I worked on when bored in class over the course of half a year, but now that the computers at school have been wiped for the summer, I fear it has been lost forever, leaving me with a single paragraph that I quoted in a mail. Sigh.

Like the ebullient Scarlet's interpretation of the Work In Progress meme, these are mostly unfinished stories that, uh, probably will never be finished.

And the writing kind of sucks, especially for the ones I had to write on paper, but I guess that's a good reason to post the stories sooner (when I'm still thinking they "kind of" suck) rather than later (when I'll have grown as a writer and will want to burn them all).


( Mopey Misanthropic Maltheist vs. Subconscious )

( Intentionally Homoerotic English Assignment )

( Maybe Time is Cyclical )

( Year Of Chaos )

( Not a story! )

Okay, I will have more later, but since I am messing around with last-day-of-school pictures what for putting on Facebook, first there is this.

( This. )

SCOTTISH WIKIPEDIA.

...nae wurds...

shud hae sent William McGonagall...


( Also, dreams which hae--I mean, have nothing to do with Scotland. )

PHILOSOPHY AHEAD:

Somewhere, someone has already reached this conclusion and stated it better than I have. But here's my version:

Call me cynical if you'd like, but I think it's overly optimistic to assume that humanity is slowly making its way toward a sort of utopian existance. I mean, discrimination and hatred are just parts of the human condition. I doubt we'll ever rid ourselves of them.

Which isn't to say that we shouldn't try to do so, because trying, even when it's obvious that what we're trying for is an impossibility, is also what makes us human. I think what we're attempting to achieve as human beings isn't perfection, because we'll never get there, but a state where everyone's trying for it and getting as close as possible. Not one, but point nine repeated, sort of thing.

And although I approached this topic from a different direction, this, at last, is a more-or-less eloquent description of my problems with the phrase "life isn't fair". People use that as an excuse to make life more unfair, dammit.

(/philosophy)


Speaking of unfair! Our school is considering slowly implementing dress codes, as most found out Thursday, and the rumors and rants are flying. I heard no fewer than three 1984 references over the last half of the day.

Now, I've got nothing against conformists. I mean, one of my best friends is a conformist. I just think that it's unnatural for two men or two women to conform together, or whatever it is those crazy types get up to in the privacy of their own

Ahem.

But when it comes to forced conformity, there I see an issue. As do, apparently, many other people, but it's sort of a given that rebellious teenagers are going to be all "NON-CONFORMITY, FUCK YEAH" whether the situation calls for it or not.

Mon copain Alex says that we can harness these rebellion-happy teenagers for our cause because they may be doing it for the wrong reasons, but they're still doing it and giving support to our side. Personally, I think that kind of support just cheapens our side, but Alex swears by strength in numbers.

This conversation occured because while I am convinced that nearly everyone will find it easier to just follow the damn dress code and keep their heads down and keep going, he thinks that there will, in fact, be an outcry major enough to make the administration reconsider the code.

And again, call me a cynic if you'd like, but I imagine everyone, teachers and admins and students, will have found some sort of equilibrium within about two weeks, when everyone's tired of the issue, and our side damn sure ain't gonna be the one that the equilibrium settles by.

Our English teacher, who also seems rather annoyed that the dress codes have moved past preventing indecency to codes that would appear to have no purpose but to let the administration show who's boss, said that if the codes go into effect she was thinking of buying identical polo shirts and sewing "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday", etc. on each one. But I don't know if the administration would understand sarcasm of that kidney. I read a statistic once that said 25% of people never develop that sense, and there's probably a disproportionate amount of that 25% in various administrations.


( I also had a Discworld dream. )

One of my friends is pining (on and off as far as intensity goes) after this senior girl who seems to like him back but who he knows he can't have. He has told me of his troubles in this area a few times before.

But for the life of me, I can't imagine why. I guess he just has no one else to turn to.

It's not that we're not close or anything, it's just that I frequently respond to his worries and angst with stuff like this:

Him [6:00 P.M.]: Man do you realize that the seniors are going to be gone forever at the end of next week?
Zweelum [6:01 P.M.]: Uh, yeah.
Zweelum [6:01 P.M.]: Same as I realized it last year and the year before.
Zweelum [6:01 P.M.]: I don't know that many seniors this year anyway, so no big deal. Especially considering you can still get in contact with them on Facebook and stuff anyway.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: You know I'm missing a 25 point worksheet in Science? No wonder my grade's so low.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: Other than, y'know, the one he lost and then found that he put in today.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: So I'm going to turn in another one tomorrow and maybe that will help.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: I wish he'd tell us this stuff.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: So, seniors, yeah.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: Oh yeah, there was that one chick you knew.
Zweelum [6:02 P.M.]: I forgot about you being sad about that.

Armed Forces Day again. Only fourteenish instances of invoking God this year. I think I should have been counting "9/11" instead. And our Chemistry teacher showed up to play Taps, wtf. I didn't even know he played the trumpet.

And I may as well add a belated dream post.

( Werewolves! )

It is near the end of the year, so of course teachers are cramming in as much work as possible. And then there are other things that continue as normal. Here's a bit of what's going on:


1) History. In addition to the soon-due, for me unstarted essay on some post-WWII figure, and the soon-due, for me unstarted homework folder, we have to make a poster about some topic from... wait for it... "We Didn't Start the Fire".

We're supposed to narrow it down to three at first; mine are Charles de Gaulle, crack cocaine, and the communist bloc. I was really torn between crack cocaine and the communist bloc, as for what to make the poster on. See, if I'd done crack cocaine, I could have had fun with seeing exactly how far I could go before it seemed as if I was endorsing it. Also, I could have wrote the lyrics to Crack Cocaine Rager around the border. I love that song so much.

But I decided on the communist bloc, because, well, I can have fun with seeing exactly how far I can go before it seems as if I'm endorsing it, and possibly a bit farther. Also it's got a lot more information what for filling the space. And plus, it's a lot better for a visual medium like a posterboard, 'cause it's got all that stuff like the hammer and sickle and propaganda posters and the color red. What would I have done for crack cocaine, a bunch of pictures of spoons?

And Charles de Gaulle was counted out as a topic right away because I actually do endorse him, so it wouldn't have been funny to do so on the poster. But I got more information on him than on the other two topics, mostly because I started reading up on him and there were some things I felt the need to write down. Like his response to the suggestion that he would take away civil liberties:

“Have I ever done that? Au contraire, I have reestablished them when they had disappeared. Who honestly believes that, at age 67, I would start a career as a dictator?”

I don't know any of his policies and I hardly know what it was he really did (vague idea of military stuff during WWII and fixing the French legislature afterwards) but that sort of annoyed impatient pseudo-sarcasm definately gets my endorsement.

Speaking of the French.

2) French class. I don't really pay attention in there, because I do most of my French-learning via the internet or by reading ahead in the book, not by listening to the lessons. I'm getting a lot better at reading written French, especially because it shares a lot of word roots with English, but spoken French is a total mystery to me.

Which is not to say that listening to the lessons would help, because no one else has any idea how to understand spoken French either. That was the only section of today's test that I think I did badly on, and it was a small section, so hey. Joey, le fellow Gifted One (and the one with the top score in the class, while I have a B), said that he totally bombed the entire test, but especially the spoken part. At least the written stuff, he could recognize it as French and he could make out some familiar words.

For my part, I'm not worried about the class because I usually ace the tests. It's the homework that drags me down, because I have a kind of moral objection to it. Y'know how it is.

3) Science.

...

Um, yeah?

4) Symphonic band. Last night we had a concert, and as far as I could hear, compared to normal we played really, really well. It was awesome. And then at the end we all stood up and the larger Concert band came flooding in to play next year's marching music with us. And I gotta tell ya, it's not enough to make me regret dropping marching band, because there may not be anything that would make me regret that, but I will say that it's the best music we've had since Tommy (rock opera!) my freshman year. It's this crazy sinister Japanese stuff with a lot of drum-work and bass and discordant notes.

Today the instructor was absent and a senior clarinet girl got up and conducted. We didn't really have to play, so I sat out the two songs I don't like from this year. (Only two songs! that's usually how many I like.) The second one was marching music from last year, which in addition to disliking I don't have the music for. But I got bored and attempted to harmonize on the harmonica.

5) Fifth hour is after lunch and--GATE!

6) English. We finished our fifteen-page, hundred-note-card, ten-source report things on Monday. Phew.

Now we're back to reading stories. The most recent was about a knife juggler who accidently killed his wife in one of the knife-throwing acts. He says that beforehand he thought of killing her in a theoretical sense but hadn't committed to it or anything. Then after he killed her he thought, "Oh, I must have gone through with it, I've killed her." But later, he realized that he wasn't really sure if it hadn't just been an accident, which made him happy because he could tell the truth and not feel as if he were guilty for anything. And he was declared innocent.

I think I wrote some BS about how the subconscious controls the mysteeerious human mind more than we as people know or something.

7) Math. There's been a bit about binary, which I already understood, hooray, and it's probably the only thing I do understand.

The teacher was doing a word problem today and stopped in the middle of reading it aloud to say, "See, they're the cool kids because they talk about math out of school."

Amid the responses, I said, "I talk about math out of school! I go, Hey, you owe me fif-t' dollahs, ho! and den she go, Man please I onl' owe you twunnah dollahs--"

No one seemed to be paying attention except a girl two desks over who burst out laughing.

For most of today's half-day there was an assembly. Several of the choir boys had singy-acts where they went up in couples or trios or quartets and showed off songs they'd wrote for the talent show. It was more or less silent when they sang, but the time when they took the stage was open to yelled comments.

SOMEONE: Woo! Take it off, Nathan!
NATHAN: *'sexy' eyebrow quirk*
NEARBY AUDIENCE: *appreciative laughter*
DARRICK: PUT MORE ON, SAM!
SAM: *stares sadly at his shorts/the ground*

COREY: *suddenly, from an hour-long silence* MAKE LOVE TO MY EARS WITH YOUR BEAUTIFUL WORDS!
EVERYONE: *...blank*
COREY: Well, I had to yell something. *goes back to his notebook*


At the end of the half-day I took the bus home like the po' non-car-owning chick I am. There is a young obnoxious fucker of a boy on the bus who I know as Douchebag Bus Kid. He doesn't come off like a douchebag in this conversation, so you'll just have to trust me.

ME: *attempting to chill and listen to my iPod*
DBK: *pointing at my backpack* What's LL Bean?
ME: *uninterested and in a dismal mood* A...
ME: *meaning to say "business place that sells backpacks and clothes, among other things"*
ME: ...place.
DBK: Is it fun? Where is it?
ME: Alaska.
DBK: ...
ME: 20 miles west of Nome.
DBK: Have you been there?
ME: Twice.
DBK: Did you go SNOWBOARDING? *makes snowboarding gestures and sound effects, which mostly consist of "whoaaaaaooshaaaaaaarawwwoooo"*
ME: ...Nnno. *goes back to the iPod and the window*


( And the dreams I had last night. )

I have been having a lot of "exploring a different house" dreams lately. A lot a lot a lot. Sometimes it's because I'm on vacation and I'm looking through the hotel room, which usually turns into a hotel house (best hotel ever?). Sometimes it's because I've moved or at least I'm temporarily living in this house, anyway, and I'm trying to figure out what's going on with it. Exploring the outer reaches of it, anyway. "Exploring" is the right word--sometimes I'd come across regular holy places, after walking through silent, dust-covered rooms, and sometimes I'd go through dangerous territory.

I think in the dangerous cases we're just renting a place or something, because while there is a feeling that the main rooms belong to me and I'm the only one living there, there is also a feeling that the place does not belong to me. Other people have lived there. Other peoples' baggage has been left behind.

In the cases where it's more quiet and undisturbed it belongs to me, and the baggage that has been left behind was left behind long ago, with no indication as to whether it was left by men or gods or just the forces of nature.

Listen to me, getting all poetic-like. El Oh El.

The places also belong to my mother, I suppose. There are often family and friends in the main rooms that do not come along whenever I start explorigating, and soon I'm far enough away from them that it just feels like I'm in an empty house.

Sound doesn't travel well in these places.

Some of the houses would seem to be haunted in some way. All of them are at least a little bit creepy.

The night before last I was exploring a pretty big place held together with small rooms. I think it started out as a hotel. Then it was my new house and I was staking out my area. The place got quieter and quieter as I went on, really surreal, and although I don't remember what rooms I went through eventually I wound up in a bathroom off the side of a nice big bedroom. The bathroom was huge. It was all white shading to off-white, nice plastic or possibly ceramics with a big bath in the middle, and steps leading up to an open shower on the side, and probably a fountain somewhere with a small stream of water curving around the bathroom and leading off to a grate, I wouldn't doubt. There was also a skylight on the top, which lit the room with the sort of glow you get on days when it's just cloudy enough that the whole sky is white and you can't tell where the sun is.

It was pretty nearly too grand for the name of "bathroom" and I think I was thinking of it as a shower room in the dream.

Then I left again. I think I was thinking that I would keep it sort of secret and hidden and use it at my own leisure and probably hang out in it more than one would a normal bathroom/shower room. Well, I mean, I do like water, and that place was like a white, sparkling temple to water.

The house last night was just a bunch of small boring rooms on the top floor--a few bedrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, a living room, all decorated in faded dusty tans and blues and pinks and greys, with only the basic furniture. Then I realized there was a cellar, which I thought had the potential to be awesome.

When I went down there, a bit nervous because it's a cellar and that's where things jump out from under the stairs at you, y'know, I looked around, and there were some boxes and stuff, and a really subtle door in the wall. Your eyes would cross over it at first, like. It was the same light color as the wall, doorframe and all. It looked like a door that wasn't often used and possibly wasn't often supposed to be used.

So I went through it. And the rooms sort of got creepier as I went along. There was a clown at one point, I know. I ended up in a room with crack down the center of the floor, and I realized that someone had built another floor over the floor that had originally been there, and there was a one or two-foot crawlspace underneath.

I stick my fingers in the crack and pull it up, and there's a lot of... just miscellaneous stuff underneath. I think maybe a clown mask? That could have been where the clown thing came from. Formless shapes that were too shadowed to make them out, further underneath. But the room was starting to really freak me out, so I decided to leave.

When I got back upstairs my mother told me I shouldn't muck around down there, because the bottom floors used to be a dungeon.

Which was creepy for about .5 seconds, and then dream!me decided to ask, "A fun dungeon or a pain dungeon?"

It was a fun dungeon.

I think the formless shapes may have retroactively been S&M stuff.

Three t-shirts I've seen recently:

1) "Without God, NOTHING MATTERS. With God..."

Probably continued on the back. I wonder if she thinks atheists cry themselves to sleep at night.

2) "Get a Grip"

Displayed prominently across some chick's chest. It made me wonder. Then later I got a second look at her shirt and realized, oh, her arm had been blocking a picture of a pair of hockey sticks. Get a grip on the sticks.

3) "..."

In a similar vein, there was some shirt about, I don't know, hands-on activities or something, which had two handprints on the front and two on the back. The placement of the two on the front... wasn't thought out well.


TOPIC SHIFT:
Those of you who know me may know that I have a slight fear of dolls, mannequins, and other blank, vaguely human-shaped things.

Well, I have no fucking idea why--probably some art project--but clear seran-wrap mannequins have been showing up all around the school. On the small landing between two staircases, sprawled in a corner. In an alcove by the library, leaning on the wall between the drinking fountain and the girl's bathroom. I turned a corner into a hallway once, and less than a foot away from me, there was one just sitting on a trash can. Some of them have eyes.

Now, our school is sort of built around the lobby/lunchroom. The ceiling's two floors high, the front and back walls are entirely made of windows, and on the side of the school building that actually has a second story instead of just really high roofs, high up on the wall of the lobby there is a second-floor hallway that lets you see down into the lobby from over a railing, as you're going from the English hall to the Science hall or whatever.

So I'm going down this hallway, looking over the railing and down at the people eating lunch, and suddenly I look through the railings and see a clear mannequin, one hand on the top railing, about to climb over and kill me.

...Or do other things that do not involve killing.

...Or do nothing, because mannequins do not move by themselves.

...Ahem.

At lunch later that day we're looking up at it and the general consensus at my lunch table seems to be that it's committing suicide. Apparently they do not see the mannequin's menacing side.

By the end of the week someone had put a sign up next to it.