How fucking bizarre. A 24 year old Russian chick just sent an e-mail saying she wants to date me because supposedly she saw my profile on an online dating service. What the hell? I think it's just bulk mail trying to get me to get a profile. You guys may appreciate her more though. She's hot.

Quoting Nick B out of context. "They must do it pretty often at female sleepovers." -Nick B on female masturbation.

Women suck. They're catty, backstabbing, gregarious sheep. I'm glad I'm straight so that I don't have to date them. Whores. See, I'm glad that there isn't like an island run by women or anything because they'd all kill each other within three weeks with their conniving. At least a Male Island would be doing something cinematic like dropping bowling balls on each other's heads with planes and doing like.. I dunno, manly things like cavalry charges. Guys are more direct and rational. I don't see how they deal with chicks. It must drive them up the wall.

Like most girls, I have hypocritical fashion nitpicks for other people, because I'm perfect. Okay.

I should.. um. I'm perfect. My hair needs more volume. Maybe highlights. I need like, real clothes. Except those would be expensive. GUCCI. (Alex says, "contacts". Shut your face)

Alex is not noticing any of this stuff. BOY. He DOES, say, though, that "Mr. Willard looked good today. Normally he looks insane. His haircut sucks with the whole bang thing. I don't know what was different today; but he did look not as insane. And when he talks he looks like a FREAK. Have you noticed that? He looks like he's enunciating a bunch." No.

Alex says he's a mad hacker and you might see a post by him soon. MWAHAHAHAHAHA! And a map of Hawaii. hE's disturbing me.

Slept. Feeling better. Unpanicked. But still cruddy.

Oh, I'm silly. I believe I'm being hysterical. Ignore me. Sleeep.

Ah. I know what I'll say when I don't have a Samizdat article tomorrow. "I was.. uh.. feeling uncomfortable with my subject area. ... heh.." Let's write about Kraft maceroni and cheese. I'll be fine tomorrow, I hope. I get random emotional spazzes sometimes, well, no, once before on the first and second day of school when I got hella depressed for no reason at all, so this must be one of those except with panic. PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! Okay, I'm not done i'm done done. Right. i'm imrpessed I cann still spell and capitalize. I think I'll sleep. Ay there's the rub. Watch me die in my sleep. That'd be funny.

Crud, I wish I weren't being haunted by demons from hell. Now I need a new Samizdat topic, because a visit to Satan's homeland may be a little much right now. Or a new passtime at least. I know. Writing trivial Blog entries. YES! HAHA! (Quiet you, it's keeping me sane. Alex. You feel sorry for me. Bring me some prozac and chocolate tomorrow... yesyesyesyesyes.. *giggle snort stomp randomsoundeffect*) What am I HIGH on?

Oh, goody.

*nervous laughter* Oh god. There's got to be something I can do besides gnawing on my knuckles. fuckkkk

It's been a normal day, but I've been feeling funny. Sort of like a violin string that's been wound too tightly. I don't know why. It's the day after Thanksgiving Break and everyone's all relaxed and in a good mood, except for me. I have this 'black rising wave of panic' feeling going on, which sounds like something off of Nick's Goth Quote Generator, except it's true. It comes and goes, and I don't know why, and it makes me nervous. It's creepy. I remember yesterday squelching some unpleasant memory. I was thinking, "I never want to remember this for the rest of my life, but it's not like I can consciously block out my memories, so the best thing to do is not think of it." So I didn't think of it. Except today, when I remembered that I was supposed to be Not Remembering and Not Thinking About something. I've been trying to remember it, and going through all the bad memories and deeds I've had that could possibly make me want to black it out, because in order to face this panic thing, I've got to cast some light on its source. But for the life of me I can't remember what It was. Maybe it's a blessing. Apparently I can have selective amnesia.

I don't want to write my Samizdat Satanism article. Because in order to do that I'll have to go back to the Church of Satan page, and it "fills me with fear and wonder". Because it makes Satanism look moral, and it's very rational, simple, intelligent and humorous. I'm not Christian, but I have this feeling of looking into this deep dark cold (dammit, maybe it's because my computer's in the basement) pool, before diving in and losing my soul. I'm nuts. I'm fucking nuts. But I don't want to do this.

Jesus, someone save me.

I didn't get a chance to blog yesterday. It was my second Thanksgiving dinner, on Saturday. Because my sister and my... brother-in-law (god that sounds weird) had dinner with his side of the family on actual Thanksgiving. Once again, I am the king of mashed potatoes. ROCK. And this year, my brother-in-law didn't get drunk as shit and throw up in our bathroom. It made up for me spending all day with my parents in Wal-mart. -_-. At least I got me some Zelda strategy guides. And a magazine with interviews with Lord of the Rings people. All the women in this magazine (the "Women of Science Fiction" posters ad) are half naked. What a time of empowerment.

Went to church today. For a violin recital rehearsal. It's been forever since I've been to church. No love lost. It amuses me to no end that in Lufia, the RPG I got for my friend, to save the game, you have to go inside a church. Basically.. you must go to church to be Saved! It's pretty funny that there are so many church-like buildings in RPG's, but no one's actually Christian.