i didn't go to krispy kremes last night, but i did plant some trees this morning.

tyree, your name means "bitch" in spanish - maurro

my two good friends from london: keir is on the left, and helen is on the right. they're coming here next august, which will be really interesting and WEIRD! i can't wait. they have british accents, because they're british. since i'm american, that makes us transatlantic homies!

-

everyone expects me to retell my day in this weblog, school period by school period. my friends, THAT IS NOT MY STYLE. you retards. i do whatever i like. i like whatever i do. why do i even need to explain it?

i stayed up until midnight last night, which is late for me, because i'm a all-nighter light-weight. i wake up at 6 am, which means i'm about to skip zero period, because it takes me half an hour to shower and get dressed. i'm such a girl.

first period: nothing. second period: nothing. break time: something. right after break, the fire alarm goes off. i get down on the floor in the middle of the hallway, and i start breakdancing. tyree and roger spot me, which is cool, because this b-boy needs attention. even with the fire alarm beeping loudly, we have little regard and panic for any of these numerous occasions, so we naturally walk to the classroom to retrieve our stuff. out in the field, cortney gives me a lollipop with a whistle in it. it rocks.

whistle, whistle, whistle.

we go back to class, and third period is a drag. after third, we have lunch. i buy an apple juice from the rhs express, and i eat my peanut-butter and jelly sandwich that my mommy made, while tyree, linda, and brian play dominos, because linda is a thug-nigga, and tyree and brian be her bitches. i play with amy's knees.

fourth period: nothing. fifth period: a test on organelle functions and the cell structure. i get a 28/35. [on silence sucks, ryan brown apparently took a test at the university of washington, and he got the exact same score as me. how weird is that?] i didn't study at all for the test, so i'm not at all disappointed. towards the end of fifth period, i make signs out of colored paper that i took from first period, to stick on people's backs in sixth period.

sixth period: nothing. afterschool, i see amy nai teung, and we talk for a little bit. i get a warm hug, and then she leaves. she wasn't feeling too well today, probably because she knew i was going to give her a cuddly-wuggly hug. after she's gone, brian tells me that we should smoke, and then i should write a song. "it will complete the feeling," he says. he proceeds to badger and punk me into getting me to say that i will get baked tonight, which is the funniest form of peer pressure ever, i think. that loon. BUT I'M AS CLEAN AS A NEW WHITE TERRA-CLOTH TOWEL IN MARTHA STEWART'S CABINET.

devin drives me and brian to xc practice at carco, as we listen to the new jurassic 5 album. devin loves jurassic 5. i bet he wants to have sex with them! upon our arrival, winmill makes us take two laps around the field, because we didn't run there. WHO GIVES A SHIT. after doing our laps, we start our game of ultimate frisbee. i'm getting pretty good at catching a frisbee now, but i still can't throw a frisbee for my goddamn life (elaine was taking pictures for yearbook, and during one of the times that i had to throw the frisbee, she laughed horribly loud as i saw the disc twist and dive, to my own team's dismay) brian thinks he's made a bet, that if his team wins, i have to smoke tonight, on our way to krispy kreme's in issaquah. BUT NO SIR, I DO NOT ACCEPT. by the way, we tied the game, so i get to smoke air and donuts tonight!

i have conquered this marijuana thing, like a spanish conquistador!

i just wrote a long entry about my parents, but then towards the end, i deleted all of it.

the only thing i want people to know, is that i've been blessed with a mother and a father, both good people in heart and mind, and that they make my soul rich.

never in my life, no matter how much money i will ever make in a lifetime, could i buy another jose or clarita.

-

it's weird, how some people don't know that they're gay.

i'm the president of green team. weird!

running is a weird thing, too. i remember from last year, when we would all make fun of david zhang during the track season, because he wasn't very fast. now, in cross country, he's kicking my ass. i always thought i was the runaway underdog, but jesus christ, i make david zhang look sensational.

capacity is also a weird thing. i remember ha nguyen, starting way back in middle school, and i never thought much of the guy. he always said something very unintelligble, described in such a way that would imply that he was stupid. but now, from what i've heard, he's getting great test scores in math analysis, and he's doing way better than me in ap biology, by far. the other day, during bio class, i whispered to rj, "ha is such a fucking square." however, when i think about it now, as square as anyone like ha will be, he'll be making twice my paycheck in ten years, if we base it off of a current comparison in scholastic effort and grades.

i'm giving up on getting the last laugh on things. i think i pity some people, more than they need. i'm so tired of making people feel good about themselves. i think i'm fed up with this game called life-hockey. i wasn't even paying attention to when i was drafted to the losing side...

but the losing side never felt so goddamn cool.

this beck album that brian gave me today makes me not want to hate people anymore. sea change, it is called. i love the acoustics, the orchestra, the songwriting, the mellow voice, and everything.

-

girl. sometimes, i can be such a blatant boy.

in my head, today was short. yes, the periods went really slow, but whatever. things don't always have to make sense.

a summary of my day, in key points:

• asa (asian student association) makes me realize more than ever, that i'm not asian, i'm just human.


• my feet smell good, according to kim. she smelled my shoes, when i wasn't around. that's quirky, yo!


• even though i am predisposed to the feeling of being left out and disregarded, it feels so goddamn good to be outside the circle, specifically OUR circle of faggots.


• i can ride the metro 106 without paying, because i'm an o.g.

i need more healthy spice in my life.
this font is fucking ugly, by the way.

i'm so goddamn bored.

first period sucks ass! 100 minutes of this shit can deform a person's sanity. it's like simultaneously getting shot in the foot, while you are being forced to press your tongue against a toilet seat in a public restroom, and every single person you've thought to be revolting is giving you an oral colon-cleaning.

i'm taking this class for two semesters, too. either i'm turning into a little bitch, or the whole cruel world has gone mad. MizAD!

jesus christ, i am such a typical teenager, full of teenage angst. i don't know what i was thinking last night, but after reading that last entry, i'm quite sure i have some anger management and issues to work out. well, i already knew that, but whatever. now i know, even more. maybe i just needed to shower last night. i was sort of feeling icky.

and my fair readers, so fresh and so clean, so begins another day!

right now, i have that feeling of disgust towards most human beings. derek calls me an "elitest," but i just think that my older mentality had the right idea. i've been tainted in various respects, some of which i would rather not go into, because it would take too goddamn long to explain.

yes, i'm lazy. BUT I'M ALSO FUCKING BETTER THAN YOU. i'm tired of acting like we can all be equal in respect. why won't all of the stupid shit in the world just shut the fuck up? you may think you're on top of shit, but you're a fucking numbskull in reality. re-evaluate what you have. that is right. i'm talking to you, asshole.

my mornings never feel like real mornings. i don't think i've ever experienced a true sunrise, where i was prepared for to see it shine upon me. it's a shame, i know. maybe i'm just a fortunate vampire. blade the vampire hunter is out to get me, i just know it.

i wake up, in the dark of night at 4:30, and i have a horrible time getting out of bed. in an ideal situation, i'd commit myself to some sort of program that would encase my body in a stasis chamber, which would allow me to sleep for 1,000 years. imagine that, a thousand year sleep. sleep is my fuh-reakin' heroin! i think i've said that on here before, but it's so true!

i get to zero period, and i pick up thanh bui's violin, because he is never in class. two minutes into class, just when i think i'm going to be playing for the full class period, thanh walks in. that motherfucker! i offer him his violin back, and like most days he denies taking it, but i force it on to him. i sit down on the floor, so ms. dosch cannot see my instrument-less body not doing orchestra-esque stuff. i proceed to pull out my cd player with the weezer pinkerton shelled within it, as with the psat prep packet-thing, which i study for the remainder of zero period. while i'm listening to my cd, it's odd to hear the orchestra play while there are silent pauses on the album, like in song transitions.

me and kim check in with mr. dowd before we go to the lunchroom for the p.s.a.t. mr. dowd, that nigga!

the p.s.a.t. is alright. i feel alright; i don't feel extremely stupid, or extremely smart. hopefully, i'll have more success on the actual s.a.t., because i'm not getting into any goddamn college with the goddamn knowledge i have now.

college sounds like it rhymes with knowledge, yo! how couldn't i get into a good college, with these skills. how couldn't i be a goddamn heart-breaking song-writer, with these skills? how couldn't i be the motherfucking EAST COAST DC SNIPER, with these skills?

the p.s.a.t.'s got me out of my first, second, and third periods of the day, and so anthony, tyree, tamara, minh, and i load into anthony's nissan sentra, on our vigilant quest to purchase corporationalized "mexican food" at taco bell. i order a bean burrito, a double decker taco, and some mexi-nuggets. believe me when i say, this is as healthy as it will ever get, unless some fast food chain decides to sell lentil soups. that would be raw! and fucking disgusting.

after getting our food, we return to school TO EAT OUR FOOD. rawr. i see amy, and we all sit against the wall. i suppose i'm not a very nice thing to look at when i'm eating bean-laden foods. i feel the eyes of people WHO READ THIS BLOGSITE, looking at me with the contempt of judgement, because i'm sitting next to her. believe me when i say, OKAY GUYS, i'm not a fucking loser, nor a jagoff, and you are all looking in from the outside, LIKE I GIVE A FUCK. it's not like you people give me attention anyway. i'd be gay for you people, if any of you wanted it.

well, not really. HAH! i'm sorry to have mislead all of you gay fellows out there, but that doesn't mean you boys can't dress up in drag and give me a holla!

fourth period, oh fourth period. we take a vocabulary quiz in la clase de espanol. by the way, my brother just told me that "bitch" in spanish is bruja. "they have bitch, but they don't have 'vagina.' jeez, who wrote this, larousse? those french bastards." maybe my brother john is the EAST COAST DC SNIPER!!! aaaaa!

whos your dad 21: fagasaur

just now, mustafa called me a "fagasaur!" that crazy dark-skin!

so after spanish class, comes fifth period. winmill makes us form a circle-jerk around four people, and we discuss and review biology stuff. it's quite EXHILARATING, like playing pong. pong rules. rey has a space-aged version of it, on his palm pilot. i was playing it in spanish, yesterday.

we interupt this blog to bring you this special bulletin: RYAN DONKERS fuh-reakin' LOVES WINMILL.

rdonksgk1: yo
joseph guanlao: hey
rdonksgk1: can you do me a favor and get winmills email address for me?
joseph guanlao: runwinmillrun@aol.com
rdonksgk1: oh ok
rdonksgk1: thanks

this is evidence. ryan donkers TOTALLY wants to have sex with winmill. maybe he hasn't heard, but winmill has a girlfriend. or is she really his girlfriend, or some girl he pays annually, to prove that he's not in fact, gay, so he and ryan donkers can have MAD ASS LOVE? this concludes this special bulletin.

sixth period is way more chill for me than it should be. i need to get my act together, and actually WRITE SOMETHING. i think ms. anderson is slowly realizing that i'm just an overly silly kid, with no regard for SCHOOL.

as i'm writing this blog, i'm watching the simpsons. it's the episode where homer becomes mayor of one half of the town, and THE WHO guest star. i wish i could live in a small town like springfield, where every person is a distinguished and designated WEIRDO.

after school, amy and i recycle, along with tyree, that fun-time ruiner. we walk into senora ana miller's classroom to get her recycleables, and ms. hughes, the teacher assistant, tells me i have to finish my quiz. WHAT THE FUCK! so i finish the quiz, while tyree waits for me in the classroom, and as amy recycles the rest of the third floor by herself. how could i have not finished the quiz? if i do have any regard for school, it's not very APPARENT.

we walk into mr. wood's classroom, and i call him a liar for some stupid reason concerning recycling, and then he asks me if i've seen braveheart. i tell him i have, and then he tells me that if he could, he would through me out the window, like the prince's "military advisor" in the movie. for those of you who know, that "military advisory" was the prince's homosexual lover, so i accuse him of calling me gay, and i tell him that i am going to notify administration. MR. WOOD CALLED ME GAY!

cross country practice is weird. i run with the girls and marvin law, and i feel fuh-reakin' fast. in fact, towards the end of practice, paul muto tells me that if i worked that hard everyday, i'd actually "be a runner." what. the. fuck. what does that make me now? a fast jogger? he said "it's there" [the running talent], but of course he knows that i am to dick around for the rest of my years. i get a spasm in the top region of my legs, and so i lie down with the white light of the sun filtering through the trees, on to my quivering body. i need to stretch more, i guess.

after practice, mustafa and i wait for the 106. mustafa is a cool guy, and he's also probably my most melanin-blessed friend. on the bus, we talk about people who are gay, because gay people are weird, and we love to make fun of them. of course, we're not talking about REAL gay people, just fucking faggots.

amy has a modesty disorder, because she's fronting like she doesn't know how SEXY she is.

i never do homework, i do blog. and that, in itself, is probably the stupidest thing i've written or said, all day. all day and all night, yo!

i'm debating on whether or not i should continue to write in the present tense... it was fun while it lasted, but now i feel like i'm less edu-ma-ca-ted.

4:50 rings the bell, as the alarm clock sounds my awakening... sort of. i wrestle with myself for half an hour, snoring the uphills and downhills of an uneasy cycle of wake and sleep as the i constantly rehit my snooze button. jesus fucking christ, sleep is fucking crack.

after eating a bowl of spagetti and a krispy kreme donut for breakfast, i wade in the pre-water of time before i have to leave for school, listening to my current favorite music album (which happens to be the new cult list of sing-alongs for the few who know), weezer's pinkerton. the 10 songs on that album give me the urge to just LOVE GIRLS. it also makes me, more than ever, to want to have a band of my own, or to be part of a band, or to serve drinks to a band during their practice sessions. weezer is one of the bands of our time, which we ALL have to see live.

i'm not a rockstar, i'm a fucking groupie!

so i leave for school, and i get to zero period. ms. dosch finally realizes the predicament i've set up, by me using other people's violins and music and such. oh well.

FIRST PERIOD IS FUCKING GAY, yo! it's like we're mining empty salt mines, for kim and i. whatever that means.

second period, mr. day gets pissed for different reasons, although i credit myself as a contributor to his bottled-up fury. it's unusual for mr. day to get mad, which i think is because his wife gives him lots of love and sex at home. oh leota!

during break, i get a double attack of happiness. first, amy returns my rockstar sunglasses, which i'd thought i'd left in muckerheide's classroom, last thursday. oh contrare, roger had them the whole time, and as a "clever" gesture to get amy all up in my business, he told her to return the glasses to me. good job rj, you silly ball of hip hop omnimity. after i get my glasses back, i meander over to the lost and found, located in the athletics finance office, to see if my precious retainer was ever brought to be claimed by its rightful owner. and, by the grace of god, MY RETAINER IS IN THE LOST AND FOUND.

RECOVERY OF A LOST ITEM, LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER!!!

third period, joy of my lost retainer consumes my heart.

during lunch, rey and i try to write the dialogue interaction of a nurse and a patient, in spanish. hah.

fourth period, it turns out we don't have to present our spanish play, but me and rey still be sick, like playas, yo!

fifth period, we go to the computer labs. ms. mccray discovers that i don't have an internet card, and winmill vouches for me getting on the internet at rhs in the eighth grade, so i spend half an hour searching for my internet permission form through hundreds of papers. ms. mccray calls me sweetie. WHAT THE FUCK.

sixth period, ms. anderson individually calls the juvenille deliquents to the backroom, to talk about our behavior last thursday. naturally, anthony, tyree, roger, brian, and i are called back. my interrogation goes easily, until i see mitchell jumping up and down behind ms. anderson from behind the door window. i try to suppress a hysterical laugh the whole time i'm in there, but it's hard. ms. anderson says that anthony brings an irresponsible energy out of me. while she says this, i'm thinking to myself, "what the fuck; AND LINDA HOANG DOESN'T???"

recycling afterschool with amy is something i look forward to everyday, but after today's experience, i don't care who i'm recycling with, if i have to be a fucking mule for heavy newspapers that have to be dragged from one end of the school, to the other (we couldn't use the red doors today, because the school is gay, and because there was some construction being done, or something. we made two trips, because the first load was so goddamn cumbersome. alan bautista tagged along, which made three's company all the more my reality). hopefully, i'll have better times with amy and recycling.

during xc practice, larry and i run as slow as sloths, trailing behind everyone. we finally catch up with some of the girl runners that are with ms. o'roarty, who are stretching in the middle of the path, and we slowly cut through their pack as ms. o looks at us as if we're wearing furry green bear costumes. we turn around and run with rommel, and we proceed to get faster and faster. we finally reach towards the end, and with whatever crazy light sent from above, i feel like i'm smashing. of course, i'm not really going that fast compared to good runners, but the feeling is still satisfyingly splendid. while stretching and waiting for everyone to return, gabriel and linda argue and discuss the points of the "lesbianism" of our group of girl friends. of course, the conversation seems trite and pointless, but i listen in anyway. all of a sudden, linda looks at me and calls me "gay." it has got to have been the coolest things i've ever heard. linda is so ka-yute! she even tells me that i can call her a lesbian back, but i decline. of course, gabriel continues to drive the topic farther, which is utterly gay, and then i learn that gabriel goes out with that freshman girl, who is sort of tomboyish, and plays on the rhs soccer team. weird!

"a.a. used cox," says winmill.

mustafa and i wait for the bus. mustafa tells his most amazing and weird bus stop stories, which are pretty goddamn amazing and weird. one of the characters of his stories is a drunk black man who rides a bicycle, whom happens to be a real person who is actually standing next to us drinking as he drinks his afterwork beer. "it's been a hard day at work," the drunk bicycler exclaims. we just laugh.

i get home, and i eat pizza from the freezer!

i'm glad tyree summed up yesterday, because i sure as fuck don't feel like doing it right now.

tomorrow, i won't know what to say.

except HEY GUYS, WHAS-A-MOTHERFUCKING-UP!