Thursday, September 30, 2004

Thank heavens I have no more classes until Monday afternoon! Whew. Man, my weeks are shorter now, but they sure are brutal. (Ah, camping, Mike, Jerry, Monica, fire...LOL!)

Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PETER! Come to La Sierra next year. It'll be fun. :) Oh, and I want to go on the Breaker High thing. Haha. Just pay for me and I'm there. LOL

"Gentlemen," I said at last, as the party ascended the steps, "I delight to have allayed your suspicions. I wish you all health, and a little more courtesy. By the bye, gentlemen, this--this is a very well constructed house." [In the rabid desire to say something easily, I scarcely knew what I uttered at all.]--"I may say an excellently constructed house. These walls--are you going, gentlemen?--these walls are solidly put together;" and here, through the mere phrenzy of bravado, I rapped heavily, with a cane which I held in my hand, upon that very portion of the brick-work behind which stood the corpse of the wife of my bosom.

But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs of the Arch-Fiend! No sooner had the reverberation of my blows sunk into silence, than I was answered by a voice from within the tomb!--by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child, and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream, utterly anomalous and inhuman--a howl--a wailing shriek, half of horror and half of triumph, such as might have arisen only out of hell, conjointly from the throats of the damned in their agony and of the demons that exult in the damnation.

Of my own thoughts it is folly to speak. Swooning, I staggered to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained motionless, through extremity of terror and of awe. In the next, a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the tomb!


- From The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

There's a lot to be said for frolicking in the light of the full moon at midnight in pagan priestess attire. Really.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Quick! Click on ME! :)

Now that you've done that, we can move on.

However, there's really nothing for me to move on to but tedious reading. So I won't put you through the same tonight.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Well, I've spent the evening responsibly. Until I began throwing my empty Dasani bottle at my ceiling fan and nearly destroyed every breakable thing in my room. But that's not really the point here. What is the point is that I have studied. This is highly out of character for me. Maybe it's a watershed moment, a turning point in my history as a student, a pivotal evening in the course of my life. Probably not, but hope springs eternal.

All of you who are currently reading these words really need to check out BookCrossing.com. Trust me. It's incredibly cool, and something that I plan to begin from this day forward.

Well, I return now to the world of the written word, which as a matter of fact, I clearly haven't really taken a break from, have I?

But before I go, I'll leave you with something recently said about me in an online conversation: I am weirded out by your conversation skills. It's almost like hitting my head repeatedly against a concrete wall, except with the heeby-jeebies as well. I am inordinately pleased by that.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

The way sadness works is one of the strange riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that happy things are tainted with sadness, the way smoke leaves its ashen colors and scents on everything it touches. And you may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has burned down.
- Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto, Book the Eleventh in A Series of Unfortunate Events

"People aren't either wicked or noble," the hook-handed man said. "They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict."
- The Hook-Handed Man, The Grim Grotto, Book the Eleventh in A Series of Unfortunate Events

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Yesterday there was a long period in my day during which I felt more than inclined to write another one of my long spiels about how sad I am for humankind. But then my day improved and my depression for the race to which I belong was pushed to the back of my mind. Whew. That was close, faithful subscribers.

The vespers concert was impressive. K.C., of course, was marvelous. But that goes without saying, right? ;) Jay was also quite wonderful. I need that young man to give me piano lessons... I miss them. They were fun. Funish. Sort of. Everyone else was great as well, naturally. I would say, "Props to you all!" but that would just sound awkward coming from me. So I'll refrain. But you know I mean it, anyways.

And I think I'll go back to listening to the Eagles and trying not to fall asleep. I'm so glad I'm going home for my mother's wedding. It's making me very happy. I miss the cold. I suspect my heart needs the refrigeration. It might just be thawing.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

I wish Nick and the rest at Say What the best in their renovation endeavours. After all, it looks like a complicated and wretched job.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

School. Such a blessing, such a curse. At least I get to memorize and recite twenty lines of Emily Dickinson. I figure I can pull that off decently, since she was so terribly depressed, and I'm so terribly surly, apparently.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

This has been a most wonderful, long, relaxing day. I am reminded of why I loved Southern California to begin with.
The Rubbermaid family has been emptied, and their innards scattered about my new room. Anyone need a place to stay? I've got an extra bed! And another, if you don't mind sharing. ;)

HA! Just kidding! :D

Friday, September 17, 2004

Well, I'm all moved into the dorm. That is, my possessions are currently existing within the confines of the four walls that have been assigned to me by my charming RA. In Rubbermaids. Mostly.

And, well, I am about to re-enter THE VORTEX of my life at La Sierra (not to be confused with the extremely thrilling rollercoaster at Paramount Canada's Wonderland). And it truly is a vortex. Hopefully it won't be quite so vortexy this year. I'm hoping, anyways. Let's all have a moment of silent prayer together. Ready? Go!

What an interlude that was. Amen.

I suppose no one wants to play the game where everyone says five good things about Diana, do they? I like that game. However, I must stipulate that such comments as, "She's wearing clothes," are not accepted and futhermore, are entirely unappreciated. Keep a loving, Christian spirit, eh?

Well, I must go. I am being forced to eat pizza and salad. Poooor Diana. So persecuted, so despised.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

I wish that no aspects of my life were, of necessity, shrouded in mystery and ambiguity.

Monday, September 06, 2004

How I shall miss my beloved Canada.

Tomorrow is my last day at Woodwork. I think I might even miss it; I don't like change. I resist it as often as possible.

Everything I am has been neatly contained into the contents of a Samsonite bag...
- Darren Hayes

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Sometimes I worry about being a success in a mediocre world.
- Lily Tomlin