- did I.... 2007-08-15 17:48:13 ...hear that Fuze's birthday is in nine days?
-
TITLEZ BORE ME
2007-08-12 10:11:38
:up: for Bauzi's sentimental journal o/
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/62100592/
^something I felt like writing randomly
I almost wrote another long journal entry, but then I erased it, I got bored u_u
Serendipity -- won't be edited for a long while. Probably won't even premiere (maybe not even get editing on it started) until mid next year. - uhm.. 2007-08-11 18:48:12 wow. I didn't expect such a response on my last journal o.O but thanks everyone...
-
My thoughts during first period english....
2007-08-10 17:37:04
I squee squee squee for ayane too :)
I thought about a lot of things in my first period of English. First was, 'God, another year of this.' Hard seats and sore
asses, listening to another old hag talk about what she thought the meaning of the book was.
The teacher is no different from previous ones. Why did they all seem like clones? Gray, short hair. A nice exterior, but a
core that wanted to burn you alive. And, as always, and long ruler firmly attatched to her hand.
I let out a rather loud groan (still not sure what it was for, but it wasn't for the teacher, don't worry) and a large
crumpled piece of paper from a newly opened pack hit the back of my head. I knew who threw it, I watched him grab the seat
behind me before I sat down. I turned and growled at Cole, my soon to be two-year boyfriend, a frustrated 'what?'.
"You look down today, of all days."
And you care today, why? "Mmmmhmm." Turn back around, don't listen.
"Something wrong?"
Glad you asked! Nothing's wrong, everything's wrong, you're wrong, the teacher's wrong, I'm wrong.
I turned around with out another word.
Something about syllabi and our goals for the semester was uttered by the teacher, the old hag. Old hag. Old hag. Three times
for good luck.
Old hag.
She said something about 'summer is not the time to slack off'. I'd been busy this summer, teach, no worries. Old hag. I'd
been busy, full of things to do.
Kiki's List of her Summer Events:
-Simon died
-Simon died
-Simon died
and so on
Anothere pelt from a crumpled up piece of paper. I barely glanced back. "...?"
"Going to the mall this weekend. In?"
No. Go away. Change seats. Change classes. Change schools. What did the teacher just say? "Sure."
"I was thinking of getting something for a girl I liked."
Bastard. "Aw, you shouldn't have." Sarcasm.
"I didn't." Seriousness.
I thought maybe it would help if background on him was introduced? I was constantly moving schools. Not moving cities though,
just schools because there were just so many. (Sarcasm) When I arrived at this school in particular, my first thought when I
saw Cole was "Stay away, he's scary. Stay away."
Cole was the first to talk to me, alongside his then girlfriend bethany. They didn't seem to even acknowledge each other's
existance, much less act like a couple.
"Hi there, new to the school?"
Stay away.
"Where did you go to school before this dump?"
He's scary.
"The food here is shitty."
Stay away.
"It is everywhere." I answered him. And we finally started talking.
I never talked to bethany until the end of that year. I remember seeing Cole heart broken when she'd broken up with him, but
it wasn't like it was unexpected.
Bethany's mother is real strict, doesn't allow dating. Cubans are like that, I guess. I wouldn't know, I don't know many of
them.
It was around the time that Bethany finally talked to me ("Hey, I have a kick-ass new song on my mp3 player, listen...") that
Cole asked me out. But, I didn't go out with him for another year and a half.
We were stamping books for a new library shipment. I had done it voluntarily; but him, I'm not so sure.
Thought he was being cute, I guess, when he wrote down "Will you go out with me?" on one of the open pages in a book that he
handed to me to stamp. I instantly recognized what it was.
No.
I had another guy that I liked, a kid named Alex. (Later, Alex would become just a good friend, but that's entirely
different.)
I yelled to the other room where the teacher was making copies of something and said, "'Ey, Mrs. Church, I think someone
wrote in one of the books, should I toss it?"
"No, erase it and move on."
I'd given Cole every reason in the world to think I was retarded. He thought that I didn't know it was him who wrote it. Poor
guy, he'd mustered up all that courage to do that and I rejected him just like that.
To this day he still thinks that I just didn't realize what it was. Little does he know, I've known it all along.
A year and a half later, my infatuation with the Alex kid turned into a friendship. He moved on, I moved on. I became good
friends with his girlfriend. Nice girl.
I began to like Cole, and one day, during a three minute change of classes, he pulled me aside and asked me out again. This
time, he made sure I got the point.
Trapped. Damn. But I wasn't reluctant to say yes, I was rather happy about it. What I wasn't trilled about was that I went
from single to the girlfriend of my (now) best friend, Bethany's ex-boyrfriend in less than thirty seconds, then while
thinking about that had to go take a science test next period.
Mmmmm. School Drama.
She didn't care. She was actually happy. Her and Cole were more friends than a couple anyways. I respect that.
Anyways, back to the pelting of my head with paper.
"Are you going to quit that any time soon?" I asked. He didn't relent. Playing with me. Bastard.
The old hag that kept running her mouth said something about Lord of the Flies, said we should have already read that or
something. We had. I had.
I remember the main character was named Simon, but he was not like my brother at all. That got me thinking about my brother.
He would always say mean things to me in a brotherly way. In the way that a normal older brother would.
If you're an older brother, and you're reading this, you might understand some of the things he did, but I don't. Maybe you
could try explaining it to me?
One of the most vivid memories I had of him was when I went to my first highschool dance. I had a date. Guess who?
"Now, when that boy get's here, I'm going to have a nice long talk with him."
I moaned.
"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"
"No whining, Kiki, stop being such a brat and get your head out of the clouds. I just want to make sure he's a nice guy."
"I'm capable of figuring that out on my own." Lie. Obviously I'm not.
Another time, when I got home from school, as soon as I burst through the door, my brother who had a graveyard shift at a
local convenience store at the time, was just waking up.
I threw my backpack on the ground and quickly logged on to my computer.
"Going to talk to those weirdos again?"
"They're not weirdos, dumbass. Friends. Something you wouldn't know about."
"Watch your mouth, brat."
He watched me for a while until he got bored. Then as I started doing some editing (for those who wonder, I was editing "He
Loves Me Not" around this time.) he asked me why I wasted my time on this 'crap'.
"It's not crap," I told him. "It's something I enjoy doing."
"Yea, but you don't get paid to do it, like other people do. You sit there and pour your life away at a screen and the only
reward you get is other people watching it. Nothing big-time."
"It's not good enough for big-time anyways, jerk." I told him. He was starting to piss me off bad.
"It probably would be good if I helped."
I took him on that challenge. "Okay, on my next project, you'll help me. We'll do it together, so you can waste your life
with me."
"It's a deal."
My mind wavered back to the lecture in the classroom momentarily before wandering back to Simon, months later. Saikano DVDs
and the Flyleaf album scattered at my feet around the desk, him sitting in a chair next to me. I had finished showing him the
dvd ripping, indexing, pre-filtering, and encoding clips. Now was the time to put it together.
He caught on pretty quick. Quicker than me at least. He had great insight for the video, and we were already a minute into
the video after about a week of our three hours sessions each day.
That's around the time when, I remembered, Simon was killed in a car accident.
The woman and her three year old son in the back were both able to walk away unharmed. (The baby actually being carried away,
sleeping.) As for Simon, he was killed instantly. How had his car sustained so much damage, but the woman was uninjured for
the most part? His car was crushed. ("Get a good car Simon, something that isn't cheap and crap-built. Something that'll keep
you safe." I remembered my mother saying. Instead, he got a flimsy jeep. I thought he was cool, at the time.)
"Simon's dead." My sister told me, I was in so much shock that I actually finished watching my sitcom before actually
reacting.
And when I did, I did hard.
But that wasn't too long ago, and I was gone for a couple of weeks, remember?
Since then, I haven't been able to finish the project Simon and I started together. Contrary to what may be popular belief,
it's not because I can't finish without him, or I don't want to because it was his and mine alone. Simply, it was not (and
never will be) finished because I lost interest in it.
I know it sounds horrible, but I did. After a while, I got tired, bored of it. And I trashed it. I didn't even bother backing
up the project files on a cd or dvd in case I wanted to come back to it.
I've only shown the furthest beta to one person, just to get feedback on whether I should finish it or not. Katie said,
"Finish it if you want to. When I was editing Something Fishy, I had to be pushed to finish sometimes."
Simon's dead.
When I thought of that, one last memory engulfed me before I went back to the classroom. I remember Simon took me to the
grocery store one day before my mother woke up to surprise her with a breakfast in bed. ("She's been working so hard lately,
Kiki.") He told me to carry the eggs from the car into the house. That was the only thing he trusted me with. Get the eggs to
the kitchen.
"Even you can do that much, brat." He told me.
They didn't make it. I was walking up the steps, and as always I was very clumsy. I tripped and fell and the eggs smashed
over the front door, the porch, and myself. I'd ruined them.
Simon didn't waver. He stepped over me and said curtly, "Dammit, Kiki."
The eggs brought my attention away from my jerk-off of a dead brother to one time when I was four. I had a bad God-complex
back then, for a little four year old. I wanted to create something, to take care of it. Most little girl's just used a doll.
I went into my grandmother's kitchen. (I was at my Grandparents' house at the time, watching a National Geographic show about
penguins and their babies. Something like that.) I got out an egg from the crate in the kitchen.
I took it into the living room and sat on it. Yes. Flat out sat on it, trying to imitate the penguins some what. I can't tell
you why I did something so stupid and retarded like that. I was four back then, and I barely remember it at all, much less
why I did it.
I thought the egg would hatch, maybe, if I kept it warm. This was before I found out that there was no bird inside in the
first place. I made a terrible mess of crushed egg insides on my grandmother's carpet.
When she saw what I'd done, she laughed. My grandmother is very kind, if not a strange one. Not like most grandmother's. She
just took a towel and some cleaner and cleaned it up. I cried and said I was sorry at lot, but she just laughed and said,
"People like us aren't meant to hatch eggs, sweetheart."
People like us? Today I just thought for the first time about what she meant by that. But my attention was drawn to the
teacher once again as she bellowed 'rules' in our ears. As if we were deaf and in kindergarten.
Rules....that made me think back when I really was in kindergarten. My kindergarten teacher Ms. Pate (wow, I can't believe I
remembered that) had this system where every day she'd choose a student to pop a balloon in a color of their choosing, which
she bought at the local dollar store.
My kindergarten teacher never liked me, or this other girl that would grow up to be another of my greatest friends. I wasn't
sure why she disliked us. Maybe we'd done something that I can't remember, since I've gotten older.
She never picked us to pop the balloon. I was so sad, and yet so hopeful that she'd pick me to pop a balloon each and every
day.. Such a silly and trivial thing it is now in hindsight, but back then it meant the world for me to pop just one of those
balloons.
On the last day of school, she picked my friend for the first time. I was very jealous.
But the anger passed. Camille, the name of that friend, became my friend in second grade too. We'd go out to recess each day
and pick the honeysuckles that grew behind the fence. At the beginning there were a lot coming through the little diamond
shape holes. But after we'd picked all the ones we could reach, we resorted to getting the golden ones, the really juicy
ones, from behind that fence.
I climbed over the fence, and got in a lot of troube for it. But I didn't care, I handed over all the honeysuckles to
Camille, and she hid them in her desk.
When I got back from the time-out room, we had a feast of honeysuckles and triumph.
Camille and I lost interest in each other in third and fourth grade. We just never talked. But in the fifth grade, we were
place together again in the same class as another now infamous person in my life. Katie Criscoulo. Katherine Rose, as her
mother called her. I sat next to her, and Camille was seated to the very back of the room. Camille and I's common interest?
Anime and Honeysuckles. Katie and I's common interest? Harry Potter.
Needless to say, Camille and Katie didn't mix well. They never liked one another, and to this day don't. At all. They'll put
on a nice veil for me when I'm around them both, but I can see that they still aren't fond of each other. Camille was raised
strict Catholic. Harry Potter was banned from their household. (Until recently, of course. She was allowed to accompany me to
the screening of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Once condition: She had to pray a hell of a lot when she got
home.) Katie just didn't know of any anime all that well, but she as of lately gotten somewhat interested in it.
But now, Katie and I have drifted a lot. It's sad, I still consider her a great friend, but I'm afraid that since she's found
a new clique, she has lost interst in me all together. Katie Criscoulo, where are those star earings? (Better yet, where's my
pretear dvd volume one????)
Nearing the end of first period today, this was what I had daydreamed about so far. The old hag was still wailing about
something, and Cole had become bored with throwing things at me.
My headband was starting to give me a headache. Bethany had my locker combination, which I hadn't memorized. Yet. Akemi was
ranting about how her mother was a bitch, or something like that. Fucking Asian. The Jew (Michael) was humming some rock band
emo screamo something song in his head. Jo-z has long since moved. Everyone misses her but me. I tell them I miss her, but
thinking back on it now, she was never the kindest to me.
Alex introduced me before class to his friend who had transferred from england for the semester.
Bastard had the gull to say, in that lovely british accent of his, "If my feet were two sizes smaller, I'd steal your shoes."
Boston Tea Party. I wanted to scream that at him. BOSTON TEA PARTY.
"Er, thanks."
Jo-z pops in.
"So, when you go back, say hi to Harry Potter for me."
The Asian in an Eggroll Akemi butts in. "My mother is such a bitch, she hates all english people."
The Jew Michael wasn't interested in him, he didn't like his kind of music.
Bethany was busy talking about something. She talks a lot, I don't remember what it was about.
Cole was indifferent. As always.
Just another typical day.....a lot more to come. School year just began.
I didn't really mean for this entry to be this long or this meaningful or sound emo in any way. This is just what I thought
about this morning in first period English. -
>:[
2007-08-06 18:35:07
emo jouranls are not good......no moar emo journals from teh Kiki, she's gonna suck it up and move on.....
(but thanks for the pms everyone :D)
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/61615278/
aim anyone?
JOURNAL: kikai_saigono (Kinsey (Kiki) Jenkins)
Current server time: Dec 24, 2025 05:43:44