January 28, 2003

My dad's birthday

Tomorrow is my dad's 62nd birthday. My old man really is an old man. In eight short years he'll be in his seventies! Eight short, short years. I wonder what's going on in his mind now that he's officially retirement age. When he turned the big 6-0 I remember he was somewhat depressed about it. The AARP mailings didn't help. He's even gotten solicitations from funeral places (why these people want to cause severe depression in mature adults I don't know --hoping they'll commit suicide and bring some quick business?) which he's joked about.

I can tell it bothers him, that he's not as young as he used to be. And judging from the plethora of home projects he's taken up recently, he's probably not feeling as useful, either.

Aging is supposed to be a time when people sit back and stop fooling with all the labor crap. But is that really how people feel when they get older --do they enjoy it? Not from what I've heard from the old folks I know, and not from what I've seen with my dad. I hear a lot of complaints about back pain, arthritis, far-sightedness, and all that jazz. It doesn't sound fun.

But there's something else these folks don't always talk about, but is pretty easy to recognize: the feeling of being a throw-away. How does it feel to live in a society that consistently tells you that you're good for nothing? Like the funeral home mailings my dad gets --that it's time to die already? I can't wrap my mind around that.

Yeah, I've been pushed out of the way before (for being a girl, for being chunky, for being a chunky girl, etc.) but not to the point where I get junk mail from businesses hoping I die soon. I don't know.

Thursday I'll be going home so that my family could all have dinner together at some restaurant to "celebrate." My dad will order a beer (or three), maybe a Jack and Coke if he's feeling feisty. He'll peruse the menu, order either a steak or baked fish, and will eat quietly (unless he thinks of a story to tell about the home improvement projects he's working on). Then I'll come back to my dorm, my brother will go back home, my mom will go back to work, and my sister will go back to school. My dad will probably keep working on the house, maybe think of some new projects to start, and try not to focus too much of his time wondering about where he fits in the world now that he's officially golden. If a funeral home letter comes in the mail, I hope it goes straight to the trash.

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January 27, 2003

Three things on my mind

Three things on my mind right now:
+ Lab rats
+ Superbowl
+ War

Let's start off with the first one. Yesterday I went into the lab to feed and weigh the rats. They behaved so well for me--not too much thrashing or squealing when I tried to pick them up. But when I got back to my room, I saw scratches all over my hands --love wounds, as I call them. I hope they don't get infected. Today we started magazine training (teaching them where food will be available). They're so cute.

I've heard some negative remarks about the fact that I work in an animal laboratory. Some people don't believe animals should ever be used for any reason, even if it's to help make more effective therapies for people with psychological disorders (which is the point of the research that I'm now a part of). I have two points to make: 1 - the rats are treated better in the lab than they would be on the street. 2 - if these guys were in your house you'd probably have them exterminated. They have it made in the lab.

Second thing: the dorm had a superbowl party in the lounge last night. It was okay... not too many people showed up. It was mostly me, Theresa, & Steph, with a few people coming and going. I'm glad the Bucs won, because I hate the Raiders (don't ask me why, I just do). I meant to call Erin, since it was the holiest day of the year for her (those sports weirdos have always mystified me), but I forgot. I'm a terrible friend, I know. Yay Bucs.

The third thing on my mind is war. I have blogged about this in the recent past, and since this is MY domain I will blog about it again. Every day I read another news article in the paper or on CNN.com that leaves me wishing that I live in Sweden. The Suits and Uniforms in Washington have already made up their minds to blow Iraq apart. Why all this pretentious crap? Why do they not just admit it, and go ahead with the inevitable murderous strike? Not done with the PR campaign? I don't know what to think anymore. Not sure what to do anymore, either. Does God still listen to prayers for peace even when the bombs are already in the air, or do they all go up in smoke?

And sanks for the comments: 1 2 3 4 5

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January 26, 2003

Snow = Cleveland

This morning I woke up and got ready for church, as usual. I saw that it was snowing outside the window, but I didn't think anything of it until I got out there --we got pounded overnight. No cleaning crews were out yet, so the sidewalks, parking lot, and street were completely covered. I felt like I was in boot camp, when they make you run through a bunch of car tires, and you have to step quickly in and out of each one... By the time I made it to the church the bottoms of my jeans were soaked, and I tracked a bucket full of snow into the narthex. Pastor Valerie commended us, the "hearty" ones, for making it out there this Sunday. After trecking back to my dorm I hopped in my car to go get some Superbowl munchies at Giant Eagle. I made the mistake of turning onto the freeway which was moving at about 30 miles per hour with an accident at every other mile marker. When I got to the exit my car slid around a bit, but no cars were around, so I didn't hit anybody. But I got back here without incident.

When I got back in my room I turned up the heater and put on my fuzzy blue slippers. I think it's hot cocoa time, too. But at 3:00 I have to go to the learning lab to do a health check for our rats. Those little guys need to be weighed and fed, and I doubt they care that there's a million feet of snow outside. As soon as I get back here, though, I'm hopping into comfy pj's, wrapping myself in a blanket, and parking my rear on a sofa in the lobby to watch some football. And eat munchies. GO BUCS!

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January 25, 2003

Web issues, Friday Five

More trouble with various web programs: After the evil time I had with Movable Type, I decided that I should stay with Blogger and just add a commenting system. I tried several progs. The ones that relied on someone else's server were always slow or down, and they had too many ads. The ones that I had to install on my own server did not work. I finally decided to use Enetation, which is also now down. My question is, does the internet just hate me, or what? Am I the only one whose web services always poop out? This feels a lot like being stuck in traffic for an hour with a kid making faces in the car next to me. Agravating.

At least Blogger is still working (though I shouldn't jinx myself by saying that). So I will blog blog blog, because that is what agravated college dorks (who are stuck all day working at a computer lab) do. Hmmm. I haven't done the Friday Five in a while. It's Saturday, but who cares. I've never actually done it on Friday anyway.

1. What is one thing you don't like about your body?

Must I name only one? Yeesh that's hard. Okay, I will avoid the obvious, and go with something most people don't really notice. My eyes. They are two different sizes. I'm not kidding. One is bigger than the other, or at least opens up more than the other. People don't realize this until I tell them, then they get freaked out staring at my weirdo eyes. But I notice, and I don't like it.

2. What are two things you love about your body?

I like my hair. I know I need a haircut (badly), and it's been several months since I bothered to mind the gap (my roots are much less red than the rest of my hair), but I really like my hair, my bone-straight hippy hair. The second thing? My eyebrows. They're the one part of my anatomy that I've consistently worked on in the last year.

3. What are three things you want to change about your home?

That massive map of Croatia my dad hangs in the living room has to go. It takes up the entire wall, and is just plain ugly. One must not be gaudy in order to be patriotic (someone please tell the folks who wear stars-and-stripes biker shorts). If I could I would also make a separate room just for my mom's shrines, to liberate the rest of the house. My home is a sea full of plastic Mary's, holy cards, figurines, medals, scapulars, crucifixes, framed pictures of Pope John Paull II. It's very overwhelming and slightly distracting. And I usually don't bring friends home unless I know they really love me. The third thing would have to be the basement carpet. It's an orangy-reddish-brown holdover from decades past. It needs to be cremated.

4. What are four books you want to read this year?

+ A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis.
+ The Bridge on the Drina by Ivo Andric.
+ Downsize This! by Michael Moore.
+ What Are We To Do? by David Yount.

5. What are five promises you have kept to yourself?

Work my you-know-what off and get an A in Research Methods, learn to forgive people who have done something to me, finish the still-life painting over winter break, read The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, and stop drinking. I've broken more promises than I've kept (way more promises), but I think I've done a pretty good job with these five. So far, at least.

I think I should start on reading my books as soon as I get my Sensation and Perception paper done. Reading always makes me feel better, which I really need when crappy days (like the last two) creep up on me. By the way, a huge thanks to Courtney for keeping me in your prayers. You are awesome. And Fabulous. And wonderful. Also, a huge thanks to my hostees who don't take off without telling me. It's all about respect, and you guys rock.

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January 24, 2003

Today SUCKED

Today SUCKED. I know I say that a lot, but today I really mean it. I feel physically sick, I feel emotionally sick (sort of), and everything just sucks. The source of my physical sickness is easy to pin down, I think. Last night Sarah came over, and we had a very, very late dinner (think 11:30). She slept over, and we were both feeling ill this morning. A few pills and I'll be fine. But the reason I feel emotionally sick, I can't really say. Everything is going wrong right now. I don't know why. My creativity has (at least temporarily) escaped me, and I can't paint, can't draw, can't do much of anything. And my classes are already pissing me off and depriving me of my life. I just want to crawl into bed and hibernate until this school year is over.

The only good thing that happened to me this week is a conversation I had with a friend of mine. It wasn't really a conversation between the two of us... it was something she mentioned in class while we were having a "philosophical" discussion. She told everyone of a personal experience she had a couple of years ago during the summer. She was feeling kinda bummed because she had a decision to make that could have some nasty consequences. So she prayed. And after a few days of prayer she saw a light on the wall, and the face of Jesus emerged from the light. It was an I'm here, don't worry kind of sign that helped her through her difficult time. I'm really glad she told us about that. It was the highlight of my week. Of my year, really.

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January 21, 2003

Dammit, they're making me think!

Today in one of my classes we talked about the early Greek philosophers and their relevence in today's world of psychology. Our discussions are great --the room is perfect for it (squishy sofas line the narrow room and we sit in a circle) and the other students have interesting ideas ('cept the one girl who just rambles on and off the subject).

I had a little trouble with today's talk. The topic was subjective reality and the relativity of truth. This is the belief that there is not one truth but many, and anything can be true so long as someone believes it. This is what the Sophists of ancient Greece believed and taught --that believing something makes it right or wrong, and that objectivity has no place. The whole time this discussion was going on, I kep thinking subjective reality just seems like such an oxymoron. If it's subjective, how can it be real? Absolute truth --isn't that redundant? Isn't truth, by definition, absolute? If not, how is it true?

Yeesh. My brain hurts. I'm so used to neuroscience and classes like that --cold hard facts about the brain... neurotransmitters and the prefrontal cortex, all that jazz. I wasn't expecting to get so philosophical, but I can't keep from thinking about it.

Is there really such a thing as subjective reality? I don't know. Afterwards I had one-on-one with one of my friends in the class, and we talked about truth and reality. I'm wondering whether I should have focused so much on the biology and physiology of my major and neglected the philosophy. I should go out and get The Republic.

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January 20, 2003

Finally have comments

By the way, I've added a commenting system to my blog. Feel free to complain about me publically.

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2 a.m. clarity? Nah

I don't know what it is about Sunday night insomnia, but I'm feeling especially reflective right now. I can't fall asleep, so I'm listening to you are so beautiful by Joe Cocker, and it's bringing me back to the Sunday I spent watching Rachel Scott's funeral on CNN. That was the song her family chose to play. It's that song, and the impending war, I guess, that is leaving me a little bummed. I should have gone home for the weekend. My roomie left, so I'm here by myself. I don't like being by myself, and I don't like sleeping alone. It's weird --I just need to have someone close by or in the next room. It helps me sleep to listen to someone breathe. But I'm up right now. Staying up late tonight and last night (4:30 a.m. woooooooo) will probably kill me come Tuesday and Wednesday when I have super early (and jam-packed) days in class and at work. I really should go to bed. Hmmmmppphhhhhh.

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January 15, 2003

Why are gym teachers all crazy?

To graduate from BW, students have to take four HPE classes (phys ed). I already had two down, so I signed up for two more this semester. One of those classes is badminton. But not just any badminton, POWER badminton (according to the teacher). Lucky for me, he's a football coach... one who feels the need to shout at everyone, even if they're standing two feet away. On the first day of class, he gathered our group together and started shouting...

Okay, now I know everyone thinks badminton is a sissy sport, where the players leisurely toss the birdie to one another. WELL, GUESS WHAT FOLKS, THIS AIN'T GONNA BE THAT CLASS. IN HERE, I'LL HAVE YOU SMASHING THAT BALL IN PEOPLE'S FACES, HITTING POWER SHOTS UNTIL SHOULDERS ARE SORE, THOSE BIRDS SHOULD HAVE THEIR FEATHERS RIPPED OFF IN TEN MINUTES. YOU WILL HURT, I GUARANTEE IT.

Yeah, well I hurt. It's not too bad, but my shoulders are killing me. The coach is insane, he looks as if any minute his head will shoot off his body. And we'll probably have to volley it back and forth for an hour so he doesn't get on our backs. On the plus side there are a lot of cute guys in there. I just hope I won't be hurting too bad to stand up straight and smile.

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January 12, 2003

This really is the Twilight zone

I feel like I'm in this weird academic twilight zone. I moved back to school today, and I can't believe I have class tomorrow morning. Break is over. It's cool seeing my friends, though ('cept Erin is not here anymore). Andrea moved into Erin's old room. I'm glad it's someone I know (and not a new person moving in) but I miss Erin already. I got here around five, and my bro put in my cd burner. I spend half an hour cleaning the dust bunnies that have accumulated over the last month, then went out with my roomie. But it's 11:00, and I can't believe it's almost time to go to bed. This sucks. I have more early classes, more papers to do, more exams, more everything. It's not even the first full day and I'm already dreaming of spring break. Spoiled, I am. This is what having a nice, long winter break (sans part-time job) does to a chick... I can't wait until the weekend. Nice, long weekend. Love it.

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January 11, 2003

Moving back, a mixed bag

Tomorrow I move back to school. This beautiful daydream called winter break is over, and now it's time to face early morning psychology research and late night study sessions.

Things I look forward to:

+ Hip hop line dancing in the first floor hallway
+ Late night drawing sessions at Kleist
+ Having Angie come over and hang out
+ High speed network internet access
+ Getting a break from my parents
+ Having a pre-paid card for eveything
+ The annual student art exhibit in April

Things I don't look forward to:

+ Research methods II
+ Studying until 3 am, waking up at 6:45
+ Sensation and Perception research paper
+ Eating in the dining hall (especially on Thursdays)
+ Working all day Saturday in the imaging lab
+ Taking the GRE (graduate boards)
+ Not having Erin living across from me anymore

I don't think I'm ready yet to go back, but I figure this semester couldn't possibly be as evil as the last one. At least, I'm hoping it won't be. But with my luck, I'll be ready to quit school after the first week. In any case, I'm lucky to be getting an education, in spite of the evil work load. Sixteen more weeks...

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January 10, 2003

'War' responses, as expected

As expected, the last post got a couple of e-mails that more or less went like this: Yeah it sucks having to kill innocent people, but that's war. We can't let them get away with what they did.

I've heard it said (most often from the pseudo-cowboy in the White House) that the 9-11 terrorists hated freedom, and that is why they attacked America. My question is this: why then did terrorists not attack Canada or Sweden? The Swedes don't have a superpower nation, but they have freedom. Probably more than we do. And what about all the other free countries out there? Germany, France, Spain? Why don't terrorists ever bitch about them? The only countries on the target list are the United States, Great Britain, and Israel, but those are not the only free countries in the world. Why were no planes driven into Canadian buildings when Canada is free? Was 9-11 really about freedom?

I don't think so.

To be honest, I'm not omniscient (I bet you're shocked, really), so I can't say exactly what was going on in the minds of the plane hijackers, what Bin Laden really hates about us, or why there is a busload of people blown apart every week in Israel. But I really have no reason to believe any of that crap has to do with the fact that America has "freedom" (whatever the hell that is). Everyone has an opinion. Some believe it was religious fundamentalism; some believe it was resentment of American greed; terrorist sympathizers believe it was America's international bullying. But even if it were true that America is a bully, was it justifiable to hijack a plane and drive it into buildings full of innocent people?

How evil must one be to believe that?

And how evil do we have to be to believe that it is justifiable to rain down bombs not only on those who do evil things to Americans, but also on those who just happen to be living in the same country or following the same religion? Last night I was up late painting (bad, I know) and watching Craig Kilborn. A punchline to one of his jokes went something like this: Hey, we're the only ones who are allowed to nuke Japan! People actually laughed at that. I wonder how many of those same people would laugh if someone made a joke about bringing down the World Trade Centers. And how many times greater than the WTC disaster were the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings? How many innocent people died those days?

Why is it so damn funny?

I also watched another program last night while painting. It was a story on CNN (yeah I admit I'm still watching that crap) about families of 9-11 victims who are now in Iraq, meeting with Iraqis who have lost loved ones during past American air strikes. The white New York widows and children were there, hugging and kissing women in Muslim headdresses and men who look like your average Arab terrorist. They all cried. All of them knew what it felt like to have someone they loved taken away by international violence. And then I thought about all those families in Iraq who right now are only nervous about American bombs, but in a few days will experience this same feeling of violent shock and loss.

Is this something I'm supposed to be excited about?

I can honestly say I understand the urge for vengeance in the US. But what I can not understand is how anyone can say that America is good and godly in spite of the widows and orphans it is about to create. How can we be the "good guys" when we 're happy that someone else is feeling our misery? There is a huge need to protect those who live here --citizens of the United States. I know that. But does that need wipe away the responsibility to respect the lives of people who aren't citizens of the Unites States? And if we want to call ourselves good, can we still be so bloodthirsty?

A very wise man once spoke about this:

You have heard that it was said, �An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.� But I say to you, do not resist an evil person. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you. You have heard that it was said, �Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.� But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who hurt you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the sinners do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be merciful, therefore, as your heavenly Father is merciful. Matthew 5:38-48

Is love and mercy obsolete in 2003?

Dear God I hope not.

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January 09, 2003

War is evil, end of story

Last night I forced myself into bed at 11:30. I'm trying to train myself to sleep and wake up at reasonable hours, instead of doing the 3:30 am -11:30 am sleep thing that I've had going this whole winter break. It wasn't easy. I tossed and turned, kept looking at my clock every twenty minutes, and finally got out of bed at 6:15 when my sister's alarm went off. I hope that I'll be tired enough tonight to actually fall asleep. This morning I watched The Fast and the Furious just for kicks. It was the only thing on tv worth watching. God knows I'm not into morning talk shows, and the news nowadays is just depressing. News channels just talk incessantly about our war-happy president who is determined to drop bombs no matter what the situation. Attack Iraq. Attack North Korea. Attack Afganistan. I say we just attack the whole damn world and get it over with. I hate to admit this, but it's times like these I wish I were a Canadian so that I wouldn't have so much blood on my hands. Never thought I'd ever write that, but W. is drowning my patriotism in a lake of fire, and won't let it surface until he's sure it's dead.

What I would like someone to explain to me is this --where is the line between victim and collateral damage? Why is the life of an Afghan worth only a fraction of the life of an American citizen (assuming the citizen is not of Middle-Eastern descent)? Why is death so much damn fun? Does God cheer every time a bomb drops on America's "enemies?"

I should not blog about such things, because it makes me angry. Inevitably someone will e-mail me something like "you stupid bitch they killed 3,000 Americans we should kill them all so they don't terrorize us anymore because they are evil and we are good and God is behind us so we need to rid the world of those Arabs." But this makes me wonder whether bombing people is the only way to get things done nowadays. People actually believe so --what does that say about how far we've fallen as a species? It's a slap in the face to the God that created us that chimpanzees are now more civilized than we are.

Maybe I should just stick to watching car-racing action movies and not worry myself over America's bloodlust and the world's impending doom. But I can't help but get that nasty queasy feeling every time I pick up the Plain Dealer, or overhear some idiot hooting and pumping his fist whenever "the boys are in action." Because when "the boys are in action" it means someone, some mother or child or elderly man walking though a village is going to die. I read a story a while back about a man who proposes a new stipulation for waging war against another country. The new requirement is that the president must first stab to death a man holding the secret code necessary for ordering military action. People scoffed at the idea, claiming that having to kill a man with his own hands would totally change the president's frame of mind, and he might decide not to drop bombs. The irony is fabulous. But if this new stipulation were put in place, I'd volunteer to hold the secret code. I wonder if W. could look me in the eye and kill me for the good of all America.

Or maybe he'd get Colin Powell to do his dirty work.

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January 07, 2003

Our evolving home

I woke up this morning to the sounds of electric screwdrivers and the smell of an unknown substance being toasted by a blowtorch. My dad is putting in a new bathroom in the basement, and as usual is making quite a mess.

I think my dad is bored since he doesn't work outside the house anymore. He's looking for all kinds of projects and improvements for our house. Another year and the whole thing will probably be renovated. But of course, things will look worse before they get better. That's just the nature of my pop's work.

My mom remarked that it will be like having an apartment --there's already a kitchen, bedroom, living room, and a punching bag. Gotta have a punching bag. I hope my dad finishes it soon, though, because I hate the smell of various substances burning. The wall has several black spots down there now, all from his fire-happy activities. E, what the hell, I'm leaving for school on Sunday.

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January 06, 2003

More shorts.

Shorts:

+ The Browns game was a bust
+ My sister has B positive blood
+ No one else in the family does
+ Work that one out
+ I'm still painting the still life
+ Hung out at Mark & Missy's apartment
+ They have three cats
+ Missy has a pretty wedding dress
+ Lou wore a dress yesterday
+ Not Missy's though
+ My dad wants computer classes
+ Klara gave me a chance to do her homework
+ She's an idiot
+ I go back to school in six days
+ Sonafide has another hostee, Xee
+ Simon & Garfunkel is in my head
+ I'm dying my hair blonde
+ Someone gave me $20 for helping with his website
+ Yay
+ Klara is sulking because she's unemployed
+ I'm enjoying unemployment
+ The Steelers suck

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January 04, 2003

A movie about my life

Yesterday Stephanie and I went to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It might as well have been named My Big Fat Croatian Wedding. This movie was about my family, everything from the father sending his kids to Greek school, to him saying, "der are two kinds of piple in de vorld, Grik, an' doz who vish dey ver Grik." Just substitute 'Croatian' in place of 'Greek' and there you have my father. Yes, I was forced to go to Croatian school as a kid, and yes, my father says that all the time. I was in tears for half the movie; it was so hilariously true. I almost lost it when the father, when asked why he won't let his daughter take college classes in the city, replies, "eh, iz drugs downtown." And what's up with the whole obsession with marrying off the daughter? Why is that the case with all Eastern European people? I've had my share of, "So, Drina, your cousin Damir is engaged now, looks like you're next in line." What I'd like to say is bugger off, Chumps, but just as the Greek daughter in Wedding has to ignore that annoyingly evil harrassment, so can I only roll my eyes. Such a good flick...

When we got home we watched the rest of the Ohio State - Miami game. My sister, a future Buckeye, kept jumping in front of me so that I wouldn't see the television screen --she's convinved I jinx games. It's true that my favorite sports teams have lost every game in which I was in attendance in the last five years, but I refuse to give up on watching sports entirely. And I was watching, and they did win, so pooty on Klara.

After Steph left, it was 2:30 in the morning, but I wasn't really tired. I decided to paint for an hour and a half. I'm working on a still life that's giving me a little trouble. I can't get the elipse of the china plate to look right. Those elipses are hard to get right. But I'll be working on it more today, so we'll see what happens. I finally got to bed around 4:30, and I woke up at 1. Yeah, 1:00 pm. I am such a bum it's incredible. I have to start training myself to wake up earlier, because in a week I start spring semester where I have an 8 am class twice a week. I still don't want to go back to school.

Painting.

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January 03, 2003

No, not school! I protest.

I can't believe winter break is almost over already. It seems way too soon to be going back to school. I just finished that hell of a semester, caught up on my sleep, and restored my sanity... now I have to go and ruin my brain all over again?

I don't want to go.

Being at school isn't all bad. My parents aren't there (yay), my friends are there (yay), and the school's network is much faster than the crappy dial-up I have at home (yay). But there are also early classes to attend (fooey), big papers to write (fooey), and dining hall food to keep down (big fooey).

I don't want to go.

But I have to. My parents pay lots of money for this crap, I'll have loans to pay off when I graduate, and for some reason I still believe that having a degree will eventually benefit me in the long run (still an idealist), so I have to go. But I still just want to pout for a while.

Fooey.

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January 01, 2003

Today's shorts

Today's shorts:

+ no Daria movie tonight
+ tired college brats can't stay awake
+ Klara is a snoop
+ new hostee Ashley woooooo
+ sonafide in dire need of layout change
+ no Photoshop at home though
+ I was told somebody likes me
+ cash needed in my pocket
+ my dad is playing the lotto
+ Dan keeps calling me a freak
+ Dan is an asshole
+ a really big asshole
+ but I'll help with the website anyway
+ working on a new painting
+ my sister is somewhat depressed
+ Ante label-bombed the monitor
+ my friends are nerds
+ that's not really news

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