I'm sooooo bored. It's a nice day outside, but I don't want to leave the shelter of the indoors. I don't feel well, and I think I'm completely out of Midol. I'd take Motrin, but that usually makes me sick to my stomach since I don't eat very much, and then I'm out like a rock for the rest of the day. And, yes, I'm aware that both medications are Ibuprofen.
Well, I'm sure you don't want to hear me complain about that. Yes, one more time, here it comes: Vote for me! I have entered a Pirate Caption Contest, and to go with a picture from Pirates of the Carribean of Will and Norrington close together with a sword slightly visable behind I wrote a caption saying: Will: "Is that your sword, or are you just happy to see me?" Norrington:"That is, without doubt, the worst come-on I've ever heard of." Now, click on the text link for "Pieces of Eight" in the grey box, and vote for "Mandy" in the Caption Contest. Vote for me because I want to win, and then I promise I'll never bother you again.
I don't really know why that contest is still going, and I'm not sure when it ends, but just vote for me. Please.
Well, yeah, I have decided that my mood swings at this moment are lethal. Yesterday after I was finished screaming at anything that crossed my path, I went upstairs to watch World Idol! Yep, I watch American Idol's second season, and now I'm hooked on watching people's dreams fade. Well, the World Idol was hosted by the British Idol hosts, two guys that, for some strange reason, remind me of Pippin and Merry. You know, one has brown hair and is a bit taller and has a Merry accent, and the other has blondish hair and is shorter and has a Pippin accent. Well, I thought they were so much cooler than the American Idol host, Ryan Seacrest (the one with the over-bleached hair and teeth and the obvious botox-injected face), and when they introduced Ryan Seacrest to tell the world who America voted for, the jerk said, "Hi! I'm Ryan Seacrest in sunny California, here on the set of my new show, On Air With Ryan Seacrest" in his stupid, annoying generic white-boy voice. And all I could think was, "Great, now the world thinks that all Americans are like this schmuck, conceited and self-absorbed. None of the other hosts from Poland or South Africa talked about themselves for a good 2 minutes before doing their jobs, but geez, leave it to an American.
Now, normally I'd laugh about it. But, no, not this time. Nope, I sat down and wanted to cry because British Idol has better hosts. And, no, I'm not lying. So, if you live in England, I just want you to know that you are so very, very lucky to not have Ryan Seacrest. I want to move to England or Scotland just so I can watch British Idol, and instead of Texans being cut down by Simon Cowell, I could watch people from Manchester being cut down by Simon Cowell.
You, my friends, are quite lucky to have caught me in a good mood. I watched a little Mr. Bean and drank my breakfast, and I'm a happy girl again. Well, as happy as I could be without Midol. Some people call it angst, I just call it personality.
I showed my mum my new layout and what the original design was before I changed it all up, and she didn't seem impressed. "I thought you were gonna do one for Big Fish, the Tim Burton movie," as she sorta turned up her nose to this one. Okay, okay, I can see that two day's worth of slaving over html that I'll never understand isn't important, so next time I change my layout, it'll be a Time Burton movie. Will that satisfy everyone? What, do you not like Bjork? She not cool 'nuff for ya?
See? See what I mean? I'm a nutcase. A complete crazy. But, hey! I started Oliver Twist a few days ago. I haven't really gotten into the 100 pages a day mode, this one should take me maybe a few weeks, but I'm savouring it, then. And the Southern Film Critics Board declared Peter Jackson the best director, and Return of the King best film. I don't think that's an esteemed society or anything, but it was in the Entertainment section of the paper today. The same section declaring Love Actually to be better than Return of the King, so I threw the paper across the room. I'm not much of one for "romantic" movies. I don't really enjoy a movie unless there's a good amount of bloodshed or hot guys in it, then I care. So, pardon me, local paper, if I prefer a 45 minute false-ending ridden finale to Hugh Grant and Kiera Knightly (who, by the way, has had some definite surgery on her nose and lips). I liked the ending of Return of the King, even if it was long. It had to be long, it was in the book. And still there was a lot cut out from the end, believe it or not. And believe it, because I don't have a life.
And I hope that by now you'd be able to tell. So, what did you do for the New Year? That's nice. I watched some movies with my family up until 11:30, and then I left it the tv on MTV to watch the ball drop. I don't normally watch MTV, but I do on New Year's Eve because it's all filmed right in Times Square, and it's the closest I'll get for the next two years until college. But when I graduate the nightmare that is highschool, I'm gonna be all over that square for the New Year ball-drop, just to see the confetti and be in that crowd of people with the red hats that say "2004!" and the matching black glasses. And I'll go back every year until I'm famous and then you'll see me on MTV presenting a band and advertising my new movie or something, and then I'll stand on top of the MTV building that I've seen so many times in life, and I'll drink champagne and watch the ball drop high above the crowds, all in their red hats and matching glasses, all by my onesies under a grey night sky and a chill wind. Won't that be nice?
I'm looking forward to it. Yep, the dreams of a mentally instable 16 year old girl. But my b-day is in two months! Two months until I'm the big one seven! I'll finally be able to see rated R movies without fear of being carded (not that I was ever carded before, being so tall), and I'll get to buy PA cds without being carded (not that I was ever carded before, being so tall), and I'll get to march around one year older and one year wiser. Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say wiser, but older works.
So. What are my New Year Resolutions, you ask? Well, New Year Resolutions are tiny little lies people tell to each other so they look good, but my tiny little lies I'll tell you include: more exercise, eat healthier (I could try the three meals a day thing, instead of milk for breakfast and lunch and then, maybe, a sandwich for dinner), talk less, stop being such a ham for attention, complain less about height complications, drive more, try not to be so blunt and Irish around people, try not to be so easily hurt by people that are blunt to me, ignore people's bad opinions of me, no forming of bad opinions against other people, cut down on the pms angst, and learn to do a good impression. I mean, I used to be able to sing like Dave Matthews (you know that weird way he sings), but I haven't been able to do that as well in a while. And I can do a pretty good impression of Sharon Osbourne, but that's not awe-inspiring since just about anybody can do that one. And I used to be able to talk like Squidward Tentacles, but no longer. I can do that Galadriel, "And all will love me" yelling psyche-out thing because I have a kinda deep voice for a girl like Cate Blanchett and I can do the accent, but anyone could do that if they wanted to, as well. But my brother is a freak of nature, because he can talk like Kevin MacDonald, Cartman from South Park, and the perfect Gollum impression that has Andy Serkus fighting for his job. I mean, he's got the movements down and everything when he argues with himself or sings about eating fish, "so juicy sweet!" It's bizarre.
So, yes, I may be able to fake a variable plethora of accents, but I can't talk like Cartman. And that makes me angry. So I added it to my Resolution list. That's probably the only Resolution I'll go through with. Last year one of my Resolutions was "to learn to play a Santana song on my guitar". Yep, like that one happened. I got the music, but not the talent nor the time. Maybe this year, or next year. 2005 is a good year for that, I expect! It is my graduating year, and that's gotta be worth something.
Ya know, I never really thought about it like that. I graduate next year. This year is coming and going like you wouldn't believe. Normal people get upset when they realise they're soon to graduate, I'm quite excited. I HATE it here. I'm moving to the Big City and getting my own life that I can do whatever I want in. And that, my friends and acquaintances, is what I'm waiting for.
Yep, yep. I'm terribly bored with writing this now, but probably not as bored are you are now. And today's title came from Will & Grace. Jack was making a bagle for Karen, and what did she reply? "Finally, a healthy breakfast that tastes good." Hahaha! I love that show.
Well, I must take my leave. Toodles!