I can see it in their eyes—THEY'VE ALREADY DIED INSIDE.

So. Dreamwidth. I like the site a lot, and I hope I can split my Internet attention even further and put my account over there to good use. immelmanturn brought up the concern that she wouldn't be able to keep up with her friends over there, and after investigating the problem, I discovered you can set up an RSS feed of your Dreamwidth like so: today_dw. LJ users can friend those. I'm really aware of the fact that "discovered" in this case means "realized something that almost the entire Internet already knows." Still! I encourage other people with DWs to do the same! If you don't plan on crossposting, anyway. I don't, because I think I'm going to try and stash all my writing stuff over there.

Also, if I don't have anyone here already added? Your usernames, cough 'em up.

School is winding down, and in my head I've already moved back to Flagstaff—I'm going home at every opportunity, and only come back down here to take exams and stuff. My family's taking over running a taekwondo studio, as some of you guys know, and with that apparently comes drama. We're talking theft, blackmail, lies, betrayal—it's like it's right out of a shounen sports manga. Serious business. It also has involved a serious amount of work, and so far most of that's been serious, disgusting cleaning. I spent yesterday working with my brother, climbing up on the roof of the offices. We had to swing from the I-beams in the roof, in order to clean up piles of filth and dirt off an indoor storage area that I'm pretty sure hasn't been cleaned or even seen in years. I'm surprised I didn't have an asthma attack right there.

I'm probably going to end up doing a lot of work there this summer. I'm wondering if I can put the volunteer hours on a resume, because I'm not going to get paid and that'd be nice. I have enough jobs for my resume, I'm pretty sure, this would be something new and interesting.

heytherenatalie, could we meet up maybe next weekend? My parents offered to buy me a Greyhound ticket to go home this weekend.

If I do go home, I think I'll bring my old skateboard back down; they're pretty common around campus, and I could use a faster mode of transportation then walking ... even if it's only, uh, marginally faster. And I don't know if I just suck at time management or what, but it seems like every damn day I have three or four hours worth of homework at least, holy crap—but I'm turning in everything, which for me is really amazing. How can I get a job, do all that, go to all my classes, and also sleep at night?

Not that I'm actually doing a lot of sleeping. Man, the sleeping porch has been cold the last few nights, and that just makes it worse.

Rewatching Raiders of the Lost Ark has given me the terrible suspicion that, as much as I wish I was Indiana Jones, I actually behave a great deal like Marion Ravenwood. Probably more like her than any female character I've ever actually seen. No wonder she irritates me so thoroughly.

Continuing my trend of hate, I utterly loathe the idiot woman who has taken advantage of my mother's ignorance of the Internet in order to get a hundred and fifty bucks out of her. Guess who gets to deliver the disappointing blow that what she promised is not, in fact, possible? You guessed right, it's me.

I have the highest grade in my summer class, pre-exam, which means that grade is totally based on homework. Full marks on, like, everything. That, my friends, is a sign that I've fallen into some kind of bizarre alternate dimension.

My teacher fully supports the rivalry thing me and Bryce have going. I'm beating him by eleven points. "Well, you rock," she said.

... What the hell is happening to the way I write?! Needs more ain't, fucking, and gonna.

Proof my dad is amazing? He came downtown at eleven o'clock at night, called AAA and took care of my flat tire, dealt with me and yamiaudra's drunk asses with nothing more than a smirk, and even moved my truck. Because I was obviously in no position to do it myself.

And a couple hours later Bryce and Zack came and found us to take us home.

I sometimes wonder if my family and friends are so excessively cool it prevents me from ever having to learn to take care of myself.

Before all that, me and Audra spent the day in Jerome, and drove back through Sedona. I think I've put two hundred and fifty miles on my truck since I bought it, and I've learned the geography of northern Arizona way better than I thought I could in, say, a day and a half of random driving. I've also spent about fifty bucks in gas. >___>

Since it's already three AM, I've got class at ten tomorrow, and I have to work all weekend and might have to take a plane from California back to Arizona--I can't even imagine when the next time I won't be dead to the world will be.

Bridgette: I'm taking your things, Brittany. How does that make you feel?
Brittany: Robbed.
Bridgette: *walking away with my stuff in her hands* ♪Taking is like giving if you're at the other end~♪

I don't think I've got people's respect.

goyutasama has charged me with writing her fanfiction to suit her interests and then sending them to her. I'm supposed to feel sorry for her because she's trapped on the US Kitty Hawk out on the ocean in a location she's not allowed to disclose with absolutely no Internet outside of her email and basically nothing to do for entertainment. Tch, it takes more than that to inspire pity from me.

... Maybe I'll get that Dexter/Psych she always wanted started later today.

I can't wait for my mom to get up. I'm going to utterly destroy Newsies for her. I've also got to convince my parents to watch American Psycho, because for one, that movie's hilarious, and also because me and Bryce make references to it pretty constantly, now. Because it's hilarious.

I think I'll apply at Little America. yamiaudra tells me they're always hiring and a quick perusal of the classified ads confirms this theory. And I'll clean the bathroom. And work on the kitchen. And I think I've got some laundry that needs washing. I'm up bright and early, might as well get something done, yeah?

Edit: For someone who considers themselves so lucky, a remarkable number of statistically improbably bad things happen to me.

... And I really liked living without my parents. A lot.

A few minutes ago, a man tried to make off with my last slice of pizza. I grabbed a cookbook off the kitchen table and lobbed it as hard as I could at that son of a bitch's head. Alas, I missed, but after I chased him into a storage closet and pounded on the door for a minute, shouting obscenities and death threats, he relinquished the slice.

What was left of it.

My brother is a fucking bastard.