Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
March 31, 2002 (2:38pm) I'd forgotten how good that feels. That insatiable hunger you get after refusing food. You can feel it in your whole body. You can feel it every time you stand up just a little too quickly, i can even feel it when I raise my arm just a little bit. It's the only high I've ever felt, and the only one I ever want to feel. The hunger pains, they go away. And there's this void, the most incredible feeling of strength. I've never felt such strength. I am in control, and it FEELS GOOD. It feels really good. And even though I have to steady myself when I stand, no one notices, no one cares, so I'm free to feel this way as long as I can. As long as I'm able. If it were up to me, I'd never stop. I'd never stop.
March 27, 2002-2 (7:59pm) Well, I just learned a valuable lesson. I'm not gonna tell you what it is though, because I feel foolish enough...I'll continue:
I now embark on the journey that is getting a job at EarthLink. It's not just a job, just another interview, just a resume. It's THE job, it's has to be THE interview, and the resume has to be...perfect.
I'll begin by rewriting my resume to include my certifications and various other things, although this, I fear, is the easy part. I've never written a resume with a goal besides cashier at a local retail store, a job I'd undoubtedly suck at. I mean I'm sure I could work a cash register, smile at the customer, hand them their change, but who wants to? Walking day after day through the doors of the local used book store, hanging up clothes strewn on the floor of the dressing room of the local slutty clothing store. Smiling at each unfortunate customer who walks through the doors. "Do I look fat in this dress?" Yes. Yes you do.
The next, and ultimately time-consuming task is to write a purely design-based website using all the skills I know. Content may or may not...exist, but I don't think the goal is to show them I can write a paragraph, although that would be a desirable quality in an employee I'm sure. But seriously, I need something that shows I can work tables, that I can write a form and run it, that I can do all the things needed to write a website without the use of a reference book. Now I'm sure that reference books are allowed, but what's the good in letting them know I can look up tags? The object is to KNOW the material and look up things if errors occur, if syntax needs work. You can't pass a test with just the knowledge that you can look up the answers in the index. You have to know it, look it up to double check if time allows.
And that, my dears, is the goal for the upcoming break. Well, that and doing everything in my power to save my ass from failing math. And who seriously cares if the series An approaches infinity or not? I sure don't. Ask me to differentiate sin-1x any day.
March 27, 2002 (4:11am) Jam hands, a thing I can relate to..."I was never any good with kids! They're always sticky, like they have jam on their hands! Even when there's no jam in the house, somehow, they have jam on their hands!"
Fortunately when I was little, you'd never catch me with the symbolic jam on my hands. Freakishly tidy, dresses pressed, saddle shoes always polished and clean. Hair not always brushed and neat but that I couldn't do that on my own until I was at least...7. I did climb a tree once, and fell. Ended up with my arm in a cast and a lasting fear of trees but...that's about the only childish thing I did. Taught me humility, oh grave...Do I ever want children? No. Period. It's like let's see if we can screw up my life just a little bit more, screw up my slowly declining view of the world. There's got to be a better way.
Okay, I'm an strict atheist, if there is such a thing. I mean I don't go to church and don't even think I'm going to "capitalize the bugger's name" as someone so boldly put it. So for this guy's sake, I'm reading a book called Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. As good literature goes, this...qualifies, but one note, grammar is a problem and if I'm going to go to the trouble to read an entire book, the grammar had better well be immaculate. I wrote like an entire essay and e-mailed it to this guy, asking for his explanation on a few things that just seemed so fantastic to me. I mean, that anyone would think some of these things is beyond me. I wanted to say, "Now wait a minute, only someone ridiculously naive, ridiculously...dependent on someone else's direction would think the things set forth in this book." Okay, maybe that's pushing it a little but some things WERE a bit fantastic and the assumptions he made were astounding. If the world thought the way he says we do, we'd all be terribly dependent and well, screwed up.
I miss sleep. I can't hardly remember what it's like to feel rested anymore.
March 4, 2002 (12:57am) The few verbal thoughts I have these days are back to "I'm fine" and when asked what's wrong..."Nothing." Maybe I'm still trying really hard to convince myself of that. Or maybe saying it over and over will make it true. Do you think that's possible? I had another bad night last night. At 1:30am I called my friend on the other side of the country half in tears, hoping just the sound of his voice would calm me down. And it always does, but for the first time it didn't. I read this thing someone said today, I don't know why I liked it..."Sometimes the world is just too much. The only times I've ever not been this way was serious times of fasting or restriction when my brain would leave my body for some time. Maybe that's why we do it. Maybe it just stops the crying...inside or out."...I'll never know will I? I'll never know why things like this happen, why one person is chosen over another. Can you tell by looking at someone how they'll react to fear? Is it written on their face? Painted in their eyes? The way they walk or talk? How can they tell how I'll react when I don't know myself? Don't they know that their moment of power scars us for life? Is it really worth it to them? Do they know that we're fighting to stay alive? It seems a bit selfish to me.
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