Art by MeddygonThere is a fine line \ Between genius and madness. \ It is called timing.

My current answering machine message:

“How are you gentlemen – All your message are belong to us. This an answering machine, not answering service. If you are calling for anyone other than Amanda, Ashley, or Maria, please hang up now. If you are a telemarketter, fundraiser, or anyone else wanting to collect money, we are all poor college students, so please hang up. If you genuinely need to contact any of the current residents of 802, please leave a message after the tone.”

If you couldn’t tell by the opening greeting, this is all in the voice of CATS.

—–

The message clearly states that you should leave messages for Amanda, Ashley, or Maria.

“Jessica, this is your mother, that’s such a cute message! Tom’ll be calling right back to hear it! Happy Halloween!”
“Heh heh heh, so cute, Jessica. Happy Halloween.”

JESSICA MOVED OUT 32 DAYS AGO.

“You’re my witness,” she says to me, and grabs my forearm.

I yank it back and say, “No.” She looks at me, confused. “I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t there for any of it. I’m not part of this, do not bring me into it.”

She was shocked that I wouldn’t agree with her.

More on the roommate situation:

I was wrong about Maria trying to fight with Ashely. What had happened was Anna, a friend of Ashley’s, came over and tried to fight with Maria.

I could hear most of the conversation, and, basically, Anna was trying to fight for Ashley’s “rights” that Maria had supposedly violated. (things mentioned: Moving into the room, taking potato chips). When confronted with this, Ashley stated that she had no problem with Maria being in the room since, technically, her own room deal didn’t start until November.

Maria claims to not have taken the chips. I do not know either way, I have no knowledge of her actions regarding potato chips, other than that she doesn’t clean up after herself (or her friends)

Maria overheard Anna and Ashley speaking across the hall. (NOTE: The following information is based entirely on Maria’s side of the story.) Ashley had been exaggerating Maria’s “crimes” and whining that “I[Ashley] ask her[Maria] about the chips, and they suddenly returned to their place in the cupboard.” She also told Anna that after their “fight,” Maria was crying and saying how much she wanted to kick Anna’s ass. (I saw Maria directly after the fight and was there for the discussion she had with Ashley – Maria wanted nothing more than to get Anna out of the apartment, and to keep her from returning with that attitude. Maria was most definitely not crying.)

Yes, Ashley is apparently two-faced.
But, Maria is a liar. She one more than one occasion has lied about something to avoid responsibility. Cleaning up beer bottles, for one. She also claimed no dishes, even though she’s the only one that uses glasses. Ashley and I use water bottles or pop cans. Who’s not to say that Maria is lying about the chips?

When speaking to either one, I get the impression that they are trying to get me to turn against the other. Maria is more blatant about it than Ashley. Ashley will exaggerate to get a rise out of others, while Maria will say it almost directly that you should do something. Neither one can get me to do anything except bitch on Livejournal.

Kinda makes me wish that, after a few years of distance from these two, they come across my journal and see what they presented themselves as.

#8 Rantt Ô_õ 10/30

I forgot my pens at home today.
As well as my unlined paper.

But the good news is that I have hair gel. HOORAY FOR ANIME HAIR!

I’m a kitty!

Maria asks me if Ashley’s mad at her. I tell her I don’t know. She then asks if I have any idea what could make her mad. I mention the beer bottles that have been sitting there all weekend. “They aren’t mine, they aren’t Ashley’s. Someone’s got to clean up after themselves.”

Maria’s response: “They’re Mike’s.”

“So are you going to ask him to come up and clean up, or are you going to clean up after your guest?”

“No, listen, this is how it is. I only had two beers, and Mike had like, six,” She then explains everything that I just told her with with many useless words and little sense. She then declares that she can’t clean up because there’s no room in the trash can.

“So take change the bag.”
“I don’t know where to take it.”
“I’ll show you. Clean up.”
“Look, I only drank two…” and she goes on again about how much she drank.

“That doesn’t matter. Unless you want to set those bottles in front of Mike’s door, you’re cleaning them up.”

“Okay, mom.”

“Those bottles have been sitting there all weekend.”
“They’ve been sitting there two days! Mike ordered Pizza and beer!”
“And you had Mike over on Friday night when I came back. You two never clea-”
“We cleaned that up! He was over Monday again.”
“Fine, fine, whatever, just clean it up already.” The bottles had most definitely been there since Friday, unless she cleaned up, and they made the exact same mess and placed the bottles in the exact same spots with the exact same amount of beer in them on Monday.

She comes up with another brilliant defense. “What about those dishes, huh? How long have they been sitting there? Since last week?”
“They aren’t mine.”
“But still…”
“Come on,” I said, and lifted the garbage bag I’d been tying off.

She followed me to the trash chute, all the while bitching about how she’d rather we talk to her face than bitch behind her back (which we hadn’t done.) She then got in the lift and took the beer bottles to Mike’s apartment.

And she’s 24. Fucking immature.

I don’t remember much, but it started with started with my confusion as to why there were several technology related things hanging on a wall in our apartment (though it didn’t look like my current one). I asked Ashley if they were hers, and she said no. I looked at one item, an indigo-cased photo printer with images saved onto it’s drive. All the images were of me and Jorenko. I looked at another item. Everything within it related to Jorenko and myself.

I walked outside, and then to a mall. Jorenko was with me. There’s some kiosk set up to assist people in learning to use computers. I decide to look at it. The tutors weren’t very good at their job. They refused to explain things in a manner in which the people they were teaching could understand. They kept using only the technical terms, and confusing people more. I stepped over and tried to explain something to someone so they’d understand it, and the suit-n-tie technician that was instructing him got pissed off. He told me to stay out of this and let him do his job.

Hrmph. How rude. I tapped him on the shoulder, and asked him his name. It was Alan Boihd. (Dunno the name at all in real life.) “Well, Alan, I’m Amanda, and I think you’re doing a pretty crappy job at your voca-”
“Well, Amanda was it? I think you should leave now.”
Hrmph. He turned to face his coworker and strike up conversation with him. I leaned over and whispered to him, “You’ll pay for your crimes…”

Jorenko then pulled me away, and I continued to complain about how rude it was of the man to ignore me, and how rude it was for him to ignore that the person he’s teaching isn’t understanding anything.

We walked to another a store and browsed the art therein. Jorenko accidentally stepped on one of the artworks while trying to look at another, so I quickly ushered him out, upset that he was such a klutz.

Into yet another store we went, and we bought some sunglasses.

While walking to the next place, we saw the side of a store called “M. Boihd, A. Boihd.” The Boihd brothers owned their own store, and the M was an artist, while the A was a tech. I felt the strong urge to cause their place much damage, but I held back.

It was near closing time for the mall, but my sunglasses weren’t fitting right, so Jorenko and I ran as fast as we could. We caught the store as it was closing, and the owners didn’t notice us in it when they locked up. Great.

Jorenko looked around for a way out. I set about looking at the merchandise. I found a bedroom setting, and turned on a tv in there. The TV blipped out rather quickly, and a monster jumped out of the closet. The monster pinned me in a corner between the bed and the wall and raped me. I quickly recovered and turned on the TV again. Jorenko walked in and saw I was watching an anime he’d seen. “Did you see the predator in the closet scene?” he asked. I just nodded.

Jorenko had come in to tell me he’d found a way out, but I didn’t follow right away. I instead grabbed a new cell phone and a new pair of sunglasses. Jorenko asked me, “What use are those things to you? You can’t change the settings yourself.”

While I was still looking for the glasses I wanted, I said to him, “You know, I realized something: this is my world and I control it.”

We walked outside, and I made a point that I controlled it by causing damage to the Boihd store without even touching it. I put on my sunglasses and walked off, but Jorenko didn’t follow me.

She knocks on the door and exclaims that she’s in a “fucking hurry,” then adds seven more unneeded sentences. She won’t shut up. I finally say, “Are you going to stop talking for a second so I can answer?”
“Well, it looked like you were thinking.”
“I knew the answer to your question before you went on explaining everything. Just be quiet for a second so I can-”
“Come on, Amanda, I’m in-”
“Quiet.”
“I’m ina hu-”
“Shush.”
“…”
I explain to her how to get to school using public transportation. She pays very little attention because she’s too busy asking me to repeat things I just said. So she finally comes to the conclusion that to take the 77 bus to the station and then the Dan Ryan/95 train to the Washington stop, and then back, it’s going to cost her $6. (It will only cost $3.60 if she’d paid attention properly)
“… if this is your first time on anything CTA, you probably shouldn’t be going alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t seem to understand anything I just told you very well.”
“Believe me girl, I’ll be fine.”

I bet my debt she’ll get lost.

What the fuck is wrong with that damned bitch Lametria?

Somehow I’m violating her rights by getting angry at her for giving out my phone number to a bunch of her friends  in LA, and then not telling them that she moved out.

She called asking for Ashley. I told her Ashley has left, probably for school.

“Did you even check?”

“Ashley and Maria both showered and left less than an hour ago. I’m pretty sure she’s not here.”

Then the fucking ghetto bitch goes off on some tanget that was barely decernable to the English speaking populus, and ends it with “Bitch”

#7 Rantt Ô_õ 10/29

Today’s comic stars a hunting Kerin-Schroe. It also stars a hunted Rat.

And then a Jorenko.

Hatt was meant to be a M-F comic drawn during my boring classes. Unfortunately, my Thursday class is too much working in-class to allow time to draw. So now Hatt will be a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday comic. Sounds reasonable, yes? As for this week’s Monday comic, that’s not going to happen because of the Monday class using the entire time for group projects, and, well, yeah.

At least it was a good project we worked on – the purpose was not the product, but the manner in which we developed the product. The product for this group project was to design an outfit using only one roll of toilet paper and design advertising and marketing for it.

There were eight people in my group. No one spoke up straight off, other than one person who said, “So … what are we supposed to do?”

As much as I’m a “leader” online, I’m really shy in public … but I guess I’m over that. I explained to everyone what we were supposed to be doing, and did so in a manner that they would understand. Once everyone got it, I separated our group into subgroups, one to work on the design and theme of the clothing, the others to work on marketing/advertising.

At one point, the fashion group said to one of the marketers, “Stop worrying about what we’re doing, you’re marketing, not design.”
I spoke up then, “Even though we’re working on different parts, we’re still working together. Answer his question.”

Yay, me leader.

People kept getting off task, so I’d snap them into place. We had one person who hadn’t spoken up the entire time, so I addressed him directly.
“We need make a logo,” I said. We had decided earlier that the product was part of the “TrojanWear” line, and that we’d write “Trojan” as if it were carved out of stone, and write “Wear” in a more “modern” manner. “Does anyone think they can write the ‘Wear’ like a neon sign, or slashed cloth, or something else wild like that?” I named each person by their name, and they all said no, and I finally got to the one who hadn’t said anything. He had started working on it when I mentioned it. Hooray, I found something he could do. It turns out that he didn’t feel like he had anything to add to the project, and I helped him help us. Yay.

Yay, me leader.

The first dream started with me in my room. It’s surprisingly clean, but when I walk over to open my door, it split near the hinges. Well, shit.
I shout outside to the others in the apartment, which includes Ashley, her friend Mike, Kara, and another white guy. I ask, “Does anyone want to explain to me why my door is falling off its hinges?” There’s no reply from Kara in the kitchen, or Mike and the other white guy in the living room. There is, however, a response from Ashley, who’s in my bathroom, looking at me through the massive holes in the wall. Apparently, someone felt the room needed redecorating, and they removed all the drywall from the walls there.
Well, shit.
I shut my door as best I can, even though it stays slightly open as the crack gets bigger, and the lower hinge of this two hinge door falls off.
I sit in front of my computer and start playing a game. Mike and his friend come in and say, “Hey, cool, [game]!” They take the controllers from me and start playing. I walk over to a corner of the room and hug my Jorenko, because he just happened to be there now. While I’m hugging him, Ashley and Kara come in. Ashley starts watching the game, but Kara goes to my dresser.
Kara complained a bit about how she has no money, no food, etc. I offered to go get her something that could help her. While I’m away, Kara goes through my drawers. I come back and see her holding my silver certificates (Dollar bills from before 1955). I yell at her to give them back, and when she does, I yell at her for taking advantage of me while I was being nice to her. The entire time, she’s silent, but I continue yelling at her, calling her a worthless cunt, stupid whore, thieving bitch, etc. She runs into the kitchen and locks the door. The little kitchen here doesn’t have a locking door, but apparently it’d been turned into a bathroom, because I hear her start up a shower. I walk back into my room, and the guys have invited over more friends. Ashley decides to point out to me that what I’d done is mean.
“And what she did wasn’t?” I reply.
“Good point.”
We turn to watch the guys play the game. Jorenko is standing behind me. I’m getting more and more pissed off that there are people I don’t know using my stuff, and being in my room as if they live there. After a while, I throw them all out of our shitty apartment.

Well, that was interesting.

She walks into my room.
“Are you up now? I didn’t mean to wake you up. Oh! So how was the party or whatever with your boyfriend? Good, blah? Huh? What? Are you awake? Are you sick?”
She finally shuts up long enough for me to answer, “I’m tired.”
“Oh, you scared me girl, you were like, speechless, okay, so I’ll just go now. Oooh, donuts!”
She looks at the box on my bed, and then at me, expecting me to offer her one. Then she leaves after a brief silence.
There were a lot more words on her part, but I don’t recall the exact ones. Just add a bunch of repetitious nonsense with no space in between sentences to allow another person to answer.

I just took the batteries out of the cordless phone because Maria keeps using my phone. She hasn’t paid her share of the phone bill, and she doesn’t plan to be here long enough to. And she’s been making long distance calls. Fuck knows how much she’s rung up with that.

Hell, she didn’t even know the difference between local and long distance. And she’s 24.

“oh well,” she says, “when the bill comes we’ll just look at all the-”
“It doesn’t list them.”
“oh it does? okay, no problem the-”
“It does NOT.”
“ooohh….”

I wish she’d fucking shut up long enough to pay attention to what’s being said.

[01:45] [Ettin> Please talk to me. I’m lonely.
[04:04] [Schroe[Sheepies]> You’re lucky. I’m going to fucking puke soon, so I’m wide awake. Not only that, Maria knocked loudly on my door a while ago for no fucking reason, and didn’t even stay in front of it when I got to answering it. I just sat for a half hour in front of the toilet, my stomach churning and the first thing she asks me, “Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?”
[04:06] [Schroe[Sheepies]> “No. I’m sick.”
[04:06] [Schroe[Sheepies]> Then she calls into the other room, when someone asks what’s going on, “She’s not feeling well; she’s been drinking.”
[04:07] [Schroe[Sheepies]> “I haven’t been drinking.”
[04:07] [Schroe[Sheepies]> “Oh.”
[04:07] [Schroe[Sheepies]> She calls into the other room, “She hasn’t been drinking.” Then she asks me if she can get me anything, water, juice, etc. All the while, her voice is at volume setting 10. It’s like she’s fucking yelling all the damned time. And she’s always saying inane things.
[04:09] [Ettin> Puked yet?
[04:09] [Schroe[Sheepies]> Nope. But the feeling’s there, and it’s painful.

She’s got a fucking bathroom of her own, why the fuck does she keep using mine? The only entrance to my bathroom is through my bedroom.

I only dread to think how she’ll react to what she’s declared my “booty call” this weekend.

I wish she’d just fucking shut up. Christ, I’m going to go off on her this weekend, I know it. Ashley won’t be there to take part of the torture, so it’s all on me.

ADMIRE MY ART!

#6 Rantt Ô_õ 10/23

The only thing I have to say about today’s comic is:
“On a single toss of one die, find the probability of obtaining:
a. a number divisible by 3 (for example, 6 is divisible by 3 because 3 divides 6 evenly; that is, the remainder is zero)
b. a number divisible by 5
c. a number divisible by 2
d. a number divisible by 1
e. a number less than 1
f. a number less than 7”

This is from a college level math book.

And there are people in my class who do not get it.

turning into a cat!

After watching Resident Evil, ending at around 2:30 AM, and then going straight to bed afterward, I knew I’d have weird dreams.

I was in a theater, or auditorium of some sort. Someone on stage had just finished speaking, and now people were injecting themselves with something. Considering the intro info I gave, you’d expect it to be RE related, but no, it was the sedatives from American Werewolf in Paris, but it turned everyone into werewolves and/or zombies. Those who did inject themselves and found it to be harmful warned others before their minds were lost. I bolted into a bathroom, and tried to lock the door.

A woman inside warned me that it wouldn’t lock at all, and then asked me to take her baby away from her. She was turning into one of the monsters, and she didn’t want to harm her baby. I took the child and told her to go outside. I’d barricaded the door and hid from her, along with some others who weren’t yet infected. Thank god the child was silent.

There were apparently two entrances to this bathroom, and they were piling in the other. The guy I was stuck in the bathroom with tore down our barricade, and we ran out. We ran to where everyone else was running to – the exit.

When we got out, the man directed a group of us to his large house. Unfortunately, many in the group were infected, and slowly started showing signs of it. A woman’s face bulged and grew hair; a man’s eyes glowed and he tried biting people. Each time someone new changed, we’d move to another room. All this time, I was carrying the child.

I’m fairly certain I was killed, because the dream ended with me holding the child, looking up at a man, and him attacking me.

Schroe Dot Org (1:19:09 AM): *puts Powerpuff Girls movie in the corner of the screen* …
Schroe Dot Org (1:19:10 AM): …
Schroe Dot Org (1:19:11 AM): …….
Schroe Dot Org (1:19:14 AM): WHAT THE FUCK
Schroe Dot Org (1:19:17 AM): THIS IS RESIDENT EVIL
Schroe Dot Org (1:19:22 AM): >:o
Schroe Dot Org (1:23:05 AM): *watches Resident Evil*

#5 Rantt Ô_õ 10/22

Philosophy class today.
Philosophy is a pretty funny history to study, because it’s all about thought. The old philosphers thought one thing, and the modern philosphers (represented by the child) took it further, which would have blown the minds of the old schools. Some of the things said in modern philosophy would be considered blashphemy in ancient times. As for the final panel, the spider takes it one step further and blows them both away. The text in the comic is nothing more than: (Teacher) Question everything. (Child) Why? (Spider) Why not?

#4 Rantt Ô_õ 10/21

This is dedicated to some guy at my school who’s almost thirty and acts like a sixteen year old who’s pissed off at his parents for not letting him drive to a concert of his favourite band outside of town with his four friends.

It’s also dedicated to a friend of mine who was a friend of his until he finally proved himself to be too much of an asshole. Here’s what she had to say:

“Ouch. Heh, That’s really funny. That’s really … fuck … hah! Heh, I had to read it again. That’s just really great. I’m going to be grinning all the way to bed.”

She seems to have little connection with the “real world” and upon seeing our appartment, instantly decided it was too small for her.

My brain is screaming at me. No, it’s not pain … it’s more like my soul is screaming at me.

[I remember enough about the early part to give you full detail on the location of everything I set down in the stall when I was using the bathroom in this dream, but it doesn’t relate to anything after.]

We drove by an arcade, and it was FULL. Everyone who wasn’t playing on of the many DDR/PIU/Technomotion machines was waiting in line for it. “We should have gotten the weed,” James said, though I don’t recall anyone ever mentioning weed in the dream. We drive around a suburb town, and I remember mulling over thoughts silently, like I normally do, of asking someone and playing out the entire conversation in my mind, making up a story about how person one would send us to person two, and person two would get angry and run over to person one and beat him up.

We continue driving, and we’re in Chicago now. We’re driving down an unknown street, looking for Broadway. I don’t know why, but James mentions Pemberville Road, so we start looking for that. We pass Madison without even wondering why we did when we’re on an E/W street, which would be parallel to Madison.

There was steep hill in front of us, over which I could see the lake. “He’d better slow down,” I think, “The lake is really close to the edge.” We start going down the hill, and the car speeds up. I don’t know if it was from James stepping on the gas, or from the brakes going out, but it happened, and we went straight into the lake.

The car went further underwater, faster than I would expect it to. I could feel the pressure on my chest from the water crushing us. I remember thinking, “Finally, I can learn what its like to die. No more speculation, this is it.” I closed my eyes, and heard James scream, “I’m ready to die!” How could I hear him scream, we were underwater . . . I grabbed his hand, and said, “I love you James. I want to spend eternity with you.” How could I have grabbed his hand, the water has crushed us . . . I reach over and unfasten my seatbelt. I can’t see anything anymore, just a reddish blur in the inside of his car. I push open the door, or I think I do, and leave the car.