cleverjello's Diaryland Diary


Os Mutantes::Quen Dem Medar de Brinco De Amor

Dude, I find it kind of funny as hell that I still get friend requests. I gaven't scrobbled anything on there in like, a month, but people still say "you have awesome taste". Friggin cool.

I'm broke until the end of the month. But when I get paid, I vow to spend $30 on music alone. Hell yeah, including Os Mutantes, possiblt The Slits. I don't friggin' know.

School is kind of shit. I have missing assignments in chemistry and AP World. Shit. I've been failing my geometry tests and quizzes. Am I up shit creek or am I up shit creek?

So am I a skank or am I a skank? I've found a new boy. God, he's fucking adorable. Not naming names...but he's a quirky raven-haired boy with big, square framed glasses and pretty blue eyes. And, the most endearing nose I've ever seen. It's covered with freckles. That damn kid.

But fucking low self esteem keeps screweing me over. Where the hell is my confidence? Ugh, this has just been a shit week. I don't think I'm doing my hair this week, so maybe I can hang with Hannah this weekend.

Is it totally bitchy that I'm not the happiest that NONE of my friends got me anything for my birthday? Like, not even a damn card? I'm pissed at. T______, because she got C_______ something for her birthday (today), but she couldn't get me anything. I got all MY friends something. I don't know. It would be nice to feel appreciated.

And now I feel upset and angsty, like a bipolar adolescent who forgot to take their Lithonate. Fucking...fuck. I hate school right now.

And we're playing volleyball, which I;m total shit at. No lie. I can't stand playing volleyball as a gym sport. (What song is this that's playing----Alegria, Alegria by Caetano Veloso. Oh man. I dig it.)

Hey, so I'm being a hippie for halloween. I'm not counting on going trick-or-treating, but definitely dressing up for school. I've got a light-brownish peasant skirt, and this "RICH HIPPY RAGLATAN" top, with some black ankle boots. And yellow transparent aviators. All I need is a long-haired wig (I could get a black witch's one for $5 at Jewels) and a headband with a peace sign on it...I could probably make it myself. Oh, and some bubbles. Yes, hippies love their bubble-blowing.

(Oooh, 13th Floor Elevators. I've missed you guys).

In the vein of Perks of Being a Wallflower, here are a few of the songs that make me feel infinite:

Telephone Line by Electric Light Orchestra. I first heard that song in Billy Madison. Eerie, beautifully great tune.

Black Angel's Death Song by VU. The freakin' violin (wiola?). John Cale, is it? Right on.

She Has Funny Cars by Jefferson Airplane. Hell yeah, when they opened Surrealistic Pilliow with that track

(oh god. In-A-Gadda-Vidda. It's kind of a crap song. I'm not up for a 14 minute stoned mess right now. NEXT.
The Cure, perfect. AND tomorrow's Friday. Great timing)

Woot for three-day-weekemds. Yeah, Columbus was one of the biggest douchewipes in history, so there is a bit of guilt.

I seriously love my American Lit teacher. He is the fucking shit. For serious.
I was standing outside the bathroom with B______ and K___, and we saw Mr. N_____ go up the stairs. We waved. He waved back. B______ said he was sexy, and now that I think about it, he is. N_____ doesn't really appear that way at first glance....but he has to be your teacher. THEN you would understand. But the great thing is that I can admit my English teacher is sexy without having a thing for him. That's beautiful.

P.S. Happy 68th Birthday Beautiful John Lennon! J'adore vous, infinito.

10:01 p.m. - 10/09/08


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