Thats The Ticket

I know what I want to be in life: A villain in a super bad movie. One of those bad movies that no one watches and goes straight to video. Oh, no... even better-- a TV movie on some obscure cable network. I'd be any character in any bad movie, really.

And, I would watch that movie repeatedly whilst eating large bowls of popcorn.

Remember 1998-2002: part two

The snowmen series, which I stole from someone else's blog somewhere online-- was an imaginative section of Watterson's oeuvre.

Reading old Calvin and Hobbes replaced studying. One of many things that replaced it. Hobbes was the cutest tiger, almost as cute as Calvin as a tiger via the transmogrifier. Thats another story line though.

Remember 1998-2002: part one

As I lay in bed trying to go to sleep, imagining I lived in Dallas and attending one of Stephanie's high school algebra classes (I really have a strange love for math and seeing my friends attempt to teach teenagers) I was reminded of when I actually was in high school. Those many years ago.

In particular, all of my math classes: constantly being late and getting detention in freshmen geometry, never doing my homework or bothering to get out a notebook to take notes in sophomore algebra, having every quiz and test be 'popped' upon me because I never cared to write down when they were for junior pre-cal, and the baked goods we got all year and the movies we watched for the last two weeks in senior BC calc.

Oh, good times. Good times.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm, I liked math. I was good at it. It was the school's rules and mores I didn't care for. And it showed. By the most goodie-two shoed, honest, sweet little girl kind of delinquency: I was late to class and I didnt do all of my homework. Teachers ran. Students idolized it.

My brilliant efforts in tardiness, however, was reserved for first period. Getting to school at 7:30am was a bitch. It wouldn't have mattered if I lived in the corner of that room, I would've still been late to class.

That geometry teacher of mine wrote me up twice. I got detention once, it was the most futile attempt at punishment I have ever encountered. All I learned was to be late enough times to not get written up... or have a first period teacher whose worst threat was to want to tell my mother I was always late. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have been surprised considering she was the one who drove me to school every morning.

72 days

I used to want to be a cat. I also wanted to have magical powers, like the ability to walk through walls or disappear in an explosive way that would leave only a dark ominous cloud behind. Even better, maybe a secret agent with a greater purpose and a more exciting life than the one I currently led. This was roughly elementary - middle school time, so most of this was influenced by Nick at Nite shows like Bewitched and Get Smart.

Nonetheless, I'd imagine it. I'd envision scenarios where I would find myself out in the middle of a crowded area, in the midst of all that was my life and I would refute all that was going on by leaving it in a dramatic way. No words, I'd turn away and in a big cloud, an amazingly impossible task, or some supremely mystical manner I would be gone. However, I never knew to where it was that I was going.

I'm just perpetually anxious to leave.

PHAT Body Gym

Driving south on Highway 59 to your right, disguised in a shopping center is a little gym with a brightly colored business sign. I am pretty hot and tempted to go there to work out at least 3 times a week for 30 minutes a day.

In other news, wow... well, seems to be no other news.