[[insert complaining here]]

Swanky

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 23:18:00 +0000

So last night I went to this magnificently swanky party in a suite that one man described as "very Sex and the City." The suite had three stories (with the bottom story on floor nine of the entire building, if I remember correctly), lighted stairs, chrome and modern furniture all around, floor-to-ceiling windows. It was pretty damn swanky.

It was like someone had gathered together Music City's biggest and richest and put them all in the same room to mingle- actually, no, it wasn't like that. That's exactly what the fuck it was. I shook the hand of some NFL player I- of course- didn't recognize, met the mother of the guy who played the Winklevoss twins in The Social Network (Armie Hammer), chatted with the most celebrated celebrity makeup artist in the city, and just general mixed and mingled with a lot of amazing people I didn't recognize. And I was offered wine (which I politely declined) on more than one occasion.

The occasion being celebrated? The premier of the new television show of a good friend of my grandmother's, Jonathon Pierce. The show is called Interiors, Inc. and airs on HGTV at 9:30 (8:30 Central) every Saturday.

My Top 5 Guilty Pleasures

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 22:49:00 +0000

5. 90's Boy Bands

Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC come to mind. The first CD I ever owned was the Backstreet Boys album Backstreet's Back. I probably jammed to Everybody (Backstreet's Back) more times than I can count, and I'm sure my mother thanked the Lord that I had headphones and not the huge speakers I have now.

4. Wizards of Waverly Place

I don't exactly watch it for the plot, and I really don't watch it for the dialogue, as both aspects of the show can be a little stilted on occasion. I really enjoy David Henrie (really enjoy him) as Justin Russo, the nerdy, geeky, all-around adorkable older brother of Alex Russo, the main character of the show.

3. Knitting

In the past I've knit fingerless gloves, adorable little coin purses, and iPod/mobile phone/mp3 player cases with cute little button flaps, and I'm currently working on a hat for Kirby (pictures of which I will post when it's finished, which will be soon).

2. Fanfiction

Criminal Minds, NCIS, Harry Potter, even some Twilight back in the day... any fandom I've written about on this blog, I've written/read fanfiction for it.

1. Nicolas Cage

I don't care how much everyone else hates him and thinks he overacts. I love him to death. National Treasure, Sorcerer's Apprentice, Season of the Witch... goodness, I love Nicolas Cage.

Well, haters gonna hate. What are your guilty pleasures?

Boyfriend/Girlfriend Survey from Quizopolis.com

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 02:48:00 +0000

What is their name? - [censored for blogging purposes]
What pet name do you like to call them? - Kirby!
How long have you been together? - Officially? A few weeks. How long have we been mutually attracted to each other, emotionally and physically? Months.
How did you meet? - He was working with some friends of mine in a lab group last May.
What do you like the most about them? - His sense of humor.
What do you like the least about them? - Perhaps talking while our theater teacher is talking.
What is the best thing they have ever done for you? - I have no idea.
Have they met your parents yet? - Yes. It was slightly uncomfortable.
What would you kids look like if you had kids? - They'd at least be a decent height. And they'd totally have hazel eyes.
What is the worst argument you have had? - I don't know that we've ever actually argued.
Do you still kiss a lot? - We've kissed each other on the cheek.
Who asked who out? - Well, erm, Iunno.
Do you think you will get married? - I don't know.
Can you see yourself growing old with them? - Honestly? I can see it.
What is the one thing you would like to change about them? - Not a damn thing.
What do you think they would like to change about you? - Perhaps make me more of a gamer.
What is the first gift they ever bought you? - Voltage (Mountain Dew)! And if that doesn't count, then a cute bookmark.
Do you have a favorite song together? - Erm... perhaps When You Were Young by the Killers.
Which famous person do you think they look like the most? - I haven't the foggiest.
Would you say the two of you are a good match? - Definitely.

Take This Survey at Quizopolis.com
http://www.quizopolis.com/boyfriend_girlfriend_survey.php

Looking Pretty Whilst Sleep-Deprived as Hell: A Guide

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 05:04:00 +0000

I was asked recently (that's a lie, it wasn't recent; I've looked like shit recently due to an inability to take my own advice) how I manage to look so nice whilst so motherfucking sleep-deprived. (My average sleep amount on weeknights for junior year, not counting midterm week, has been five and a half to six hours. And remember, that's an average; for every night I've gotten eight or nine hours, I've gotten one or two- or none, though from what I can remember that's only happened once, very near the beginning of August- on another night.)

Drink black coffee like... well, fish don't drink water, so we'll say "like an alcoholic drinks alcoholic beverages." Yes, your piss will reek. If that bothers you, drink more water.
Drink lots of water. Oh, look at that! Now maybe if you remember this part your piss won't reek. Note: You will not remember this part.
Sit with proper posture and gesticulate during conversations. If you make an effort to appear alert and energized, you will reap two benefits: first off, you'll feel alert and energized, and second off, others will see you as energetic. And energetic is attractive.
For God's sake, don't skip on the morning routine. Mascara makes you look like you really do have eyelashes and doing something to fix your hair makes you look infinitely more put-together. There's nothing so awful as a halo of frizz on hair pulled back, particularly if your hair is curly.
Set your outfit out the night before. Future You will not have the time or the sense to pick out something decent to wear. Future You needs to have something to slip into while still half-asleep.

Most of these tips also apply to those who are not sleep-deprived, but I figured since I'm going to get about five hours tonight I'd start off a lengthy reading/charting session with a slightly relevant blog post.

Hipster: Yea or Nay?

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 03:00:00 +0000

The girl in the picture is Xeno's ex and a dear friend of mine, to whom I will now refer as Derpette. This picture is a couple of weeks old; she recently cut her hair in such a manner that she resembles a pixie. She and I (and the rest of our group of friends) have been going back and forth for ages now, and I'm turning to you, the internet, to resolve this argument.

Is she a hipster or not?

First person to agree with me gets a poem written for them.

Once Again, I'm Entirely Full o' Shit

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 02:42:00 +0000

A recent post of mine was heartfelt when I wrote it. But in retrospect I'm full of shit.

I never know what my heart is going to do. It's frustrating.

I broke up with that guy over winter break. Why? Oh, take a guess, internet. I lost interest and there was someone else.

About a week before I broke up with the guy, I had a dream. (I love that I finally had a chance to use that statement legitimately on MLK day.) Kirby had been split into two nearly-identical people, both of whom were romantically interested in me and in both of whom I was romantically interested. (Fuck yeah proper prepositional phrase placement.) Everyone was fussing at me for not choosing one or the other, and I was tearing myself apart for not being able to choose; they were both so wonderful! Of course, when I woke up and was aware that Kirby is but one person, I was incredibly relieved. Oh, and in the dream there was something about Republicans and Democrats trying to mulch a yard together but being incapable of deciding in what manner to distribute the mulch. But that isn't really relevant.

The day after the day I awoke from that dream, I went to lunch with Kirby and his parents. I later found out Kirby's mother contrived this lunch gathering to gauge whether or not I was suitable for her only son. Apparently they liked me well enough (or at least approved of me), because a few weeks later (after I'd broken up with the other guy due to not wanting to keep going in a relationship in which I wasn't truly emotionally invested) Kirby came over to my house.

He played Call of Duty: Black Ops with two of my siblings, he got interrogated by Bear, the whole shebang. My parents think he's a lot like my mother's brother, which means they think he's one of the dorkiest things to walk the planet. Which is a completely legitimate conclusion. They tolerate him, though, I think. They don't know him well enough to really like or dislike him yet.

This weekend our plan is for me to go to his house and watch the original Star Wars trilogy since I've only seen one of the films and that was a very long time ago. You, my dear readers, will get to see how that goes.

Also, I drew a picture regarding how I feel sometimes around him.

Time Machine Hugs

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 22:29:00 +0000

There are times I hear a story about someone from history and think, "God, I wish I could just travel back in time and hug them." Not in a congratulatory way, but in a consoling way. These are people who had no idea just what an inspiration they are, hundreds of years later.

Copernicus He was so afraid of offending the church with his work On the Rotations of Heavenly Bodies- which challenged the traditional, church-endorsed geocentric (Earth-centered) view of the universe and replaced it with a still-technically-incorrect heliocentric (sun-centered) view- that he didn't publish until he'd grown quite old. And even when he published it, he had it dedicated to the Pope. He died about a year afterwards.
The hug? I'd hug him and find a way of telling him not to worry, that he's been right all along, and that eventually the church is going to give in and acknowledge his genius for just that: genius.
Galileo Another guy who just had no idea, bruh. This guy was locked away- by the Catholics, of course- and forced to recant his support of Copernicus's heliocentric view. He did for the telescope what Gutenberg did for the printing press; that is to say, he may not have invented it, but he sure as hell improved upon it. He was so incredibly frustrated by the fact that his peers swallowed the information fed to them and made no move to challenge the church's claims about the nature of the universe.
The hug? I'd hug him and tell him what an absolute boss he is, and how in the not-very-distant, relatively, future, scientists gladly butt heads with the church and challenge everything. And, if I could, I'd download a couple Carl Sagan videos ahead of time and find a way to translate them so he could understand.

Falling

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 01:03:00 +0000

Someone- though I certainly have no idea who- once said, "Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to."

I've never given someone in whom I was romantically interested that level of trust. If things didn't work out, I didn't want to be left with a broken heart. And, invariably, things wouldn't work out (generally with me being the one to end things).

So when I got past that one-month mark in my current relationship without having qualms about the relationship or contemplating dumping him or anything of the sort, it struck something in me. For about a week, I distanced myself from the world while I considered the situation. I wasn't finding myself fantasizing about future relationships, I didn't find everything he did irritating, none of that.

I'd previously come to the conclusion that because my biological dad and my mother separated when I was two (and I haven't seen him face-to-face since), and then my mother and the man who raised me separated when I was thirteen, and then later my mother and her fiance broke things off, I have a bit of a commitment issue. I'm always looking forward, at the end, at what is going to wrong and fuck things up to permanently end the relationship. Because with every other guy, I'd caught myself doing that (if I hadn't already lost interest).

But with this guy... instead of picturing us fighting when it's time to go off to college, I picture us discussing things, and going to colleges near each other. He acts like we're going to be together forever- get married, have kids, the whole spiel- and it doesn't bother me like it always did with everyone else.

My "Type" (or: Why I'm Dating My Boyfriend)

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 21:34:00 +0000

My "type" has apparently undergone a drastic change. If, six months ago, you had described my current boyfriend (of three weeks so far) and asked if I'd date someone like that, I probably would have given an emphatic, "Hell no."

He smokes. He failed Biology. He isn't taking any AP classes. He used to be quite the right-winger.* He ~~sometimes~~ often mixes up "your" and "you're." He was Church of Christ for the longest time.**

But you know what? We've known each other for years, and have been good friends for a couple of those. A few months ago, I was going through some rough emotional times (including things that I posted on this blog and things that I couldn't quite put into written words) and he was the first one I thought to call, crying, when I needed it. He and I can talk for hours at a time on the phone. He can make me laugh when I'm feeling like shit. We have the same sense of humor. He knows that occasionally I need a bit of space.

Outwardly, we're very different. But if you look a little bit further inside, I think we match pretty well.

*He recently stated that he would totally marry Jon Stewart. So there's that.

**Now he's a very tolerant agnostic, probably agnostic theist if he had to choose, who frequently jokes about gay sex, Jesus, gay sex with Jesus, and everything else my friends and I are going to Hell for joking about.

Refusing to Pledge: an Incredibly Brief, Largely Copy-and-Pasted Legal History

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 22:15:00 +0000

In 2006, in the Florida case Frazier v. Alexandre, 434 F.Supp.2d 1350 (S.D. Fla. May 31, 2006), a federal district court in Florida ruled that a 1942 state law requiring students to stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance violates the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution. As a result of that decision, a Florida school district was ordered to pay $32,500 to a student who chose not to say the pledge and was ridiculed and called "unpatriotic" by a teacher.

West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U.S. 624 (1943), is a decision by the Supreme Court of the United States that held that the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution protected students from being forced to salute the American flag and say the Pledge of Allegiance in school.

In West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette, 1943, 319 U.S. 624, 63 S.Ct. 1178, 87 L.Ed. 1628, the Supreme Court, overruling Minersville School District v. Gobitis, 1940, 310 U.S. 586, 60 S.Ct. 1010, 84 L.Ed. 1375, held that a West Virginia State Board of Education resolution which required children, as a prerequisite to their continued attendance at public school, to salute the flag and recite the pledge, wasunconstitutional as applied to children of Jehovah's Witnesses since it denied them freedom of speech and freedom of worship. In rejecting the resolution the court held that the state could not "prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion," nor can the state "force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein." The majority (it was a 6-3 vote) found that the freedom asserted to refuse to participate in the flag salute did not interfere with or deny the rights of others to participate.

The standards established in Barnette have been expanded and clarified by subsequent lower court rulings. The Maryland Supreme Court invalidated a requirement that students objecting to the flag salute stand while the rest of the class recited the Pledge of Allegiance. See State v. Lundquist, 278 A. 2d 263 (1971). In 1973, the Second Circuit Court of Appeals ordered a school to allow a student to remain quietly seated during the flag salute. See Goetz v. Ansell, 477 F.2d 636 (2d. Cir. 1973).

In 2002, Section 171.021, RSMo (Missouri Revised Statutes) was amended to state that "every school in this state which is supported in whole or in part by public moneys shall ensure that the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America is recited in at least one scheduled class of every pupil enrolled in that school no less often than once per week. No student shall be required to recite the Pledge of Allegiance."

I want to print these out on a single sheet of paper and carry them with me so that next time my theater teacher- or anyone else, for that bloody matter- tells me I have to stand during the Pledge I can refuse, then hand her the paper.

None of these cases are in a court in my state, but I think the general message is pretty clear.

I Got a New Phone

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 18:47:00 +0000

Holy poop. I have a Droid now. LG Marquee, to be specific. Only bad part is typing on touch screen, but I'm sure I'll get over it.

My Grades Have Gone to Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 21:30:00 +0000

I made an 81 (an 80.8, really) on the first part of a test in Chemistry, and a 67 (a 66.666...) on the second part. I'm missing lots of assignments for this quarter in Spanish 3. Edit: "Lots" being relative. The way our grading system works, you average the first and second quarter together to get the semester grade. Both quarters are fifty percent of your semester grade. I'm missing one of very few assignments and made a terrible grade on another this quarter, so it's a very low grade (a D!) being averaged with my B from quarter one to get my shitty-ass semester grade.

Only three people in Chemistry passed the first part of that test. You'd think the teacher would realize that if only three of twenty-something people pass an examination, it may not be us. It may be his sorry ass. And that maybe he should really get his lazy-ass self into fucking gear and do some legitimate motherfucking teaching. Maybe even engage us students. Fuck him. He can suck a dick.

It would seem he has yet to put those grades in. Or maybe he has, and my extra credit from last semester is just really kicking ass. Edit: Logic! He hasn't put them in yet. There's not a terrible grade under Q2.

Here's a snapshot from the online grades system:

I Loathe Picture Day

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 17:48:00 +0000

I hate picture day with a fiery passion.

It's mostly with vanity in mind: I can't stand having a picture of myself I can't get rid of. I hate pictures of myself. I look terrible. I'm the least photogenic person one could ever possibly meet. It's just bad. With most pictures of me (taken by friends, family, or myself), I get a say in whether a photo is shown off or placed somewhere.

Not so in this case. This gets put in the yearbook, and if it looks terrible, you get one chance to make it up- and even if the second picture makes the horrible first photo look like a work of art, they'll still just put the second one in the yearbook.

No control, and I look like shit no matter what.

I loathe picture day.

Junior Year Sucks Major Dick.

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 23:40:00 +0000

Just saying.

This blog is called [[insert complaining here]] for a reason. And a damn good 'un at that. I complain. Profusely. Here we go. If I type this quickly enough, I can get back to Facebook-stalking the shit out of my latest male interest and still have time to make and use my damn flash cards.

At the same time that my school switched from a block schedule (four classes per semester, ninety minutes each a day, for a total of eight per year) to a, I dunno, regular high school schedule (seven classes a year, forty-five minutes each a day, the same classes all semester), I switched from taking regular old "smart people" classes to taking goddamn college-level classes. Fuckin' bullshit.

I'm now dealing with AP Calculus AB (not too terrible, probably my favorite subject overall), AP English 3 (not terrible in and of itself, but the workload can be irritating and I honestly don't give a flying fuck about symbolism or whatever the fuck and am of the opinion that most of it is utter bullshit), AP US History (which has potential for being mildly interesting if it weren't for the son of a bitch who teaches it), AP European History (tolerable, if only because the teacher is awesome), Spanish 3 (much more of a bitch than Spanish 1 and 2, which I really should have expected), Theater 2 (my easy class... for now; I think later this year when we do the show/production/play/whatever the hell my teacher is calling it today, I'll just have a breakdown), and Chemistry (I only slightly tolerate science- and even that is only for the cool shit- and this class is all the worse because, as a state-required class, it is super-easy and incredibly tedious; at least the teacher likes me).

That said, I'm just in a terrible mood today, so you probably shouldn't take any of that ranting at face value. I've been feeling like shit all day. All fragile and sickly and whatever the fuck.

I'm just going to get offline and make some flash cards now. I hope you have fun doing whatever non-AP fun shit you're doing. Fucker.

Where the Mind Wanders, the Heart There Lies

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 02:19:00 +0000

I read something (okay, it was a picture that popped up while I was using StumbleUpon) recently that said that if you wanted to know where the heart lies, you must look where your mind wanders.

It certainly makes me question what exactly the fuck is wrong with my heart and mind.

Dig Dug and Other Such Discouraging Activities

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 21:24:00 +0000

Well, I may kick ass at Bosconian, but I suck ass at Dig Dug. Really. My legitimate highest score today was 1850. I always either kill myself (fuck going backwards, fuck those red cars, fuck that entire game) or those homicidal/suicidal/maniacal red cars fucking kill me (fuck those guys).

Also, what the hell are the brown things in the track? Is it mud? Is it a hole? Is it a muddy hole? What the hell kind of track am I on that they can't do some proper fucking upkeep? Honestly.

Also, I have a Tumblr now. It's one of those other discouraging activities. It's not really very interesting (mine, I mean, not Tumblr in general). Hurr's a link if you want.

Luna is a tag/label for this post because I'm currently located at the home of my friend, who I have christened Luna.

Poems: you are pretty

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 20:47:00 +0000

Poems: you are pretty: I have looked at the sky a whole whole lot I have felt of the sunshine too. but never have I ever looked at or felt anything as pretty as ...

I Want a Love Story

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 05:06:00 +0000

I want a love story. I want that falling feeling, the crash of lips and the fingers in the hair.

I want a love story. I want staying up late in each others' arms just because.

I want a love story. I want coffee and pizza at three in the morning and you.

But you're fictional.

Photo Recovery (Not Quite a) Fiasco

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 20:38:00 +0000

My grandmother was moaning about how she'd lost all the pictures on her camera. "Oh, I've probably deleted them all. I'm so stupid!" Never-ending. So I go to Google.

Back up about a week, and you'd see Nama (our nickname for my grandmother; it comes from my brothers being incapable of pronouncing Gramma when they were little) snapping pictures of the ocean on her vacation, then running out of room. So she bought an SD card, popped that sucker in, done!

Back to now: "I got all the pictures off the SD card, but not off the camera itself. They won't show up."

I download VaioSoft Recover Manager, an absolutely wonderful little program. Worked like a charm, and in, like, less than thirty seconds, I had ten pictures sitting on her desktop. Unfortunately, these were not the pictures she was looking for. I ran VSRM again. It only found the same pictures. I banged my head against the desk, and then-

"Wait, can you save pictures on an adapter?"

I have a strong mental image of my laptop's AC adapter and feel the urge to kick a baby. Fortunately, I manage to downgrade my frustration to, "Uhm, what?"

"Yeah, I pulled out this little thing when I was putting in the SD card, and it said 'ADAPTER' on it."

I go to Google again. I begin to have a hunch. I go to Google Images and point to a certain picture. "Did it look like that?"

"Yes!"

"Exactly like that, or only similar?"

"Similar."

This is that picture. You have to click it, because I'm not explaining the joke here. If you don't understand it, click here for information.

My goodness. When I go home (I'm at the office at this very moment, really shouldn't be blogging), I'm going to retrieve the photos from her MicroSD card.

Thank God they worship me for such sorcery instead of crying out, "Burn the witch! Burn her!" (I've been reading a lot about the Puritans lately. So sue me.)

Fuck Unhappy People

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 01:34:00 +0000

Note: I wrote this yesterday but could not post it until today due to a retarded router.

It pisses me off to see people in what should be perfect relationships bitching and making a huge deal out of every little thing. It's just incredibly rage-inducing. Today at lunch, we were making sex jokes galore. (So, business as usual.) We have a game we play called the Word Association Game. One person says a word and then we go in a circle saying the first word that comes to mind. Example:

Person 1: “Fun.”
Person 2: “Playground.”
Person 3: “Roleplaying?”
Person 4: “Kinky.”

Anyways, Xeno laughed at a joke that was made about him and another guy friend of mine having anal sex (which, for the record, is almost certainly only a joke and in no way true). His girlfriend- a good friend of mine for ages- got super pissed off and for whatever reason he had to apologize. I do not understand this at all. She makes jokes just like the rest of us, and it's certainly not the first anal sex joke we've ever told about Xeno. He finds them amusing (or, at least, he laughs at them).

Eventually, Xeno laughed at another joke- God forbid someone find something using the word “boobies” amusing!- and he got in trouble with her (who I will now be calling Penelope) again. This time he didn't apologize. It was fucking stupid of her to both a) get angry with him for laughing- fucking asshat, he was laughing more at the facts that our friend had chosen the word “boobies” over “breasts” and that this word had been associated with “crayons” than any real demeaning joke- and b) expect him to apologize. So she got pissed (imagine that! If you knew her, you'd be the exact opposite of surprised) and stormed off to go sit with her back against the wall a few feet away. Of course, she was positioned right within Xeno's line of sight and pretty much out of everyone else's. He said nothing, and the table continued the game sans Penelope, not even acknowledging her departure. She coughed. We continued the game. She said something along the lines of, “Thanks, guys.” I don't know if the rest heard her, but I ignored her, as I felt that she was being very ridiculous overall and I know myself well enough to be certain that if I spoke to her, I'd go off and she'd get pissed at me. It shouldn't have mattered, though; she's pissed at me 90% of the time anyways. God knows why. Apparently I'm just a terribly abrasive person.

Gahh, fuck people who can't just be happy. I wish everyone around me would just smile and laugh and not be so fucking uptight and needy and clingy and demented.

Grargh, Boys

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 04:10:00 +0000

I don't want to go on a date with Kirby. At all. I don't want to hold his hand, and I don't want to kiss him.

My brain is one crazay bish.

I just want to toss Kirby to the side and ask out Mr. President, but I... don't want to. And I think I just now figured out why.

What happens when I get a date with someone, or at least get to the point where I know they really like me? I stop liking them.

I think I just really want to keep liking Jacob, and subconsciously I believe that if I get him on a date, I'll stop liking him. Well, more like consciously believe. 'Cause it's true.

Anyways, yeah. Grargh, boys.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Scream: Mary Surratt Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 04:01:00 +0000

Mary Surratt. You've probably heard her name before. She was the first woman to hang in the United States. She was convicted of conspiracy to murder Abraham Lincoln. Bad person, yes?

Except her *military* trial was rigged. Basic rights were grossly denied her. She shouldn't have even had a damn military trial, she should have had a civil trial with a jury of her peers, not a bunch of generals- good friends of Lincoln, angrily grieving their loss.

Still, she was just a bad person who just got the harsh treatment she deserved, right?

Her attorney, Mr. Aiken, asked a DC court for a writ of habeus corpus with the argument that the military tribunal had no jurisdiction over his client. The writ was issued at 3 AM. President Johnson cancelled the writ at 11:30 AM. She was walked out to hang at 1:15 PM. From the scaffold, one of the others set to hang (Powell) said, "Mrs. Surratt is innocent. She doesn't deserve to die with the rest of us." She complained that the bindings about her arms hurt, and the officer preparing her said, "Well, it won't hurt long."

Bitches be bitches.

Why do we not learn of occasions such as this in history class? Is it because that may spoil our allegiance to the flag? We are being indoctrinated into the national cult, the history of which we are not even fully aware.

Please, take your time to learn a little about the hell some have gone through at the expense of liberty before you go around declaring America to be the greatest country in existence.

Notes to Future Boyfriend #5

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 02:34:00 +0000

Dear Future Boyfriend,

I think I found you. :)

Love,

Not In Outer Space

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 05:22:00 +0000

I had a moment the other day during AP English. Not a normal moment, a special one. I had a realization.

What are the two biggest opposites humans know of? The distinction we can all agree on? Night and day. All of humanity, for as long as we've been around, have known of the Night and the Day.

But there's no night and day in outer space.

If our biggest distinction doesn't hold any weight in the vast majority of the universe, why the hell should it matter if you're black or white or Asian? Or gay or straight or bi? Or a Democrat or Republican or libertarian or anything else?

It doesn't.

P.S. I drew a picture I really like that goes along with this idea. If I can find a scanner, I'll upload it.

I'm Completely Full of Shit.

noreply@blogger.com (Artemis.) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 01:28:00 +0000

Honestly, I am. And I never really know what's going on in my head, it seems.

The past few weeks, I've been completely pro-President and, uh, con-Kirby? Un-Kirby? Anti-Kirby? Anti-Kirby, that's it. Decidedly anti-Kirby. But then, as I was going to sleep a few nights ago, I muttered, "Let me dream about the guy I need to be with. Dreamdreamdreamcupcakes..." and fell asleep. I do not remember my dreams from that night, but the next night, I had a very distinct dream involving Kirby. (Not a sex dream, just a cute little "Awh, how adorable" dream. Pervs.)

And when I woke up, I felt all warm and fuzzy.

And when I got to school, I felt all warm and fuzzy.

And when we worked together in theater, I felt all warm and fuzzy.

And when Mr. President asked me for help in calculus, interaction that only two weeks ago I would have thrived on? I didn't really feel all that warm and fuzzy. More like... laminate. I helped him with the equations and went back to my own work.

My brain confuses me.

But you know what? Today was the happiest I've been in a good bit.

"I have no idea what's going on, and I'm loving every second of it."