Posts Tagged ‘LJ import’

Maria & CTA

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.

Lametria

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”

Leadership Roles

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.

Dream 02.10.28

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.

Maria

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.

Maria & Phone Bills

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.

Maria & Sick People

[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.

Maria

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.

dr lee

ADMIRE MY ART!

kitty

turning into a cat!

Dream 02.10.22

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.

Misnomer

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*

New Flatmate

New flatmate. Maria. Talkative. She’s a burbie, raised with a silver spoon, platter, and swimming pool.

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

Dream 02.10.20

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.

Sweetest Day

J Jorenko (10:58:25 AM): Schroe must go talk to the doorman.
Schroe Dot Org (10:58:30 AM): …  Why?
J Jorenko (10:58:51 AM): cuz :]
Schroe Dot Org (10:58:54 AM): …
Schroe Dot Org (11:09:02 AM): ….
Schroe Dot Org (11:09:16 AM): I thought you didn’t celebrate stupid little hallmark holidays ;_;
J Jorenko (11:09:25 AM): I felt like it
Schroe Dot Org (11:09:43 AM): I lub u ;_;
J Jorenko (11:09:53 AM): lub u 2.  You wouldn’t believe how rare blue flowers are.   Well, I just looked at a few flower sites to see who had anything in blue at all. I was hoping to make a varied thing but that’s all I could find :/
Schroe Dot Org (11:16:52 AM): ;_; lub u neway
J Jorenko (11:17:04 AM): yay!

Dream 02.10.18

A DREAM!!!

I don’t remember much about the beginning, but my parents were involved. We ended up at a Verizon store, and my dad was purchasing accessories for his startac phone. For whatever reason, he bought a bronze suit and tie to match his bronze phone. They bought me a gold phone with a new plan on it so that I had voice mail.

I said my goodbyes and walked out. I then stepped under the awning of a closed store and waited. I knew I was waiting for someone, but I can’t remember whom. My phone rang to indicate there was a new message. I flipped it open to look at it. As I was doing this, two black women drive up in a white car. One, in the back, rolls down her window and asks if I need a ride somewhere. This woman is someone I go to school with, though I can’t identify her. I tell her no, I’m waiting for someone. I hear an L train go by. “Oh, we’re right next to Jefferson Park,” one says. They drive off. (I’m fairly certain I’m still downtown, because the buildings are tall, and Jefferson Park is out in the ‘burbs)

Someone else stops by now. “Mike” shows up. I use the quotes because the guy’s name is actually Dan, and he goes to school with me. I say hi, an we chit chat a bit. I walk over to the other corner when we’re done speaking.

I start to listen to the message on my phone. Instead of it being a recording, it calls back the person who called me – Jorenko. I’m a bit surprised to hear his voice after I hear a ringtone that sounds classical (though I can’t place it now).

Someone across the street shouts, “Hold it right there, Michael!” I look up at “Mike” and see him freeze in his tracks in front of me. The shouting’s coming from a police officer across the street to my left. I stare first at one, then the other. The cop fires his gun, and I see the bullet slowly reach it’s target – a window above us. Only for a moment does it go out of view behind a green awning above the store. The cop fires two more times, each in slow motion.

Just as his partner is commenting on his success, fireworks go off. Apparently, the person they were shooting at had large fireworks in his hideout. The things flew everywhere, exploding in the sky, exploding on the street, breaking windows, destroying cars.

I curled into a ball, the phone to my ear, silent.

Roommates

Roommate status: Lametria and Kara have moved out. It’s just Ashley and I in this two bedroom appartment until they move in new people in January.

eating

I’ve been consuming a lot less food lately. It scares me that I can’t finish a little frozen dinner thingummy.

My Dreams Are a Bad Hentai.

The dream began with a woman outside hanging laundry. The woman looked to be in her early twenties. She had somewhat pointed ears, with straight black hair pushed behind them. She wore a white dress with a lavender bodice. Judging from the laundry that was being hung, she was recently made a mother. As she finished hanging her family’s laundry, she turned to the small ramshackle farming house she live in with her husband and infant son. The husband looked out the window at his wife while holding the sleeping child.

Then, they all died.

To elaborate, that is when the bombs fell. Explosions destroyed the home, the people inside, and the laundry outside. What was once seen as healthy farmland was now a leveled field.

Some time later, soldiers are searching the rubble for any survivors. Lifting a piece of rubble, a soldier finds that the woman is still alive, though injured. (Here’s the hentai part that makes my brain hurt. In every hentai I’ve seen/read, the woman ends up ENJOYING BEING RAPED.) The one who finds her tells another to hold her wrists while he undresses her and himself. The woman hasn’t got much energy left, but she still struggles. The soldier rams his dick into her, and the “camera” goes to a close up of her face. She screams with pain, but she starts to show signs of enjoying it.

As the soldiers are having their way with her, the camera then goes to another soldier in the distance. This one’s carrying a rifle, and quickly snipes the two that are molesting the woman. He runs down the hill he was on, and then to her side. He lifts her up easily and runs back to his base.

Once inside, he places her on his assigned cot in his own shabby quarters. She’s frightened that he’ll kill her, and she shouts at him in a language he doesn’t understand. He leaves her alone for the rest of the night.

In the morning, he presents to her a small basin with a sponge and towel. He places a new dress on a stool, and leaves the room. Taking the hint, she washes her self. (Hooray for “Shower” Scenes.)

While she’s washing, he’s in another room wanking, thinking of her.

She finishes washing and dressing before he finishes fondeling himself. She leaves the room, and searches for an exit. She stumbles upon the closet wherein there is a sniper.

(More reason I hate hentais) He’s embarassed, but she isn’t. She kneels in front of him and starts giving him a blow job. She swollows all of it.

Yeah, damn hentais ruin my brain.

Protected: Ugh dads

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Stats

You know, it’s fucking amazing.

I get a new host, and I copy over everything from the old host to the new one, including the server-side stats program that Ehost gave me. It is a rather nice stats program, so I left i there instead of using the one icdsoft gave me.

A couple months later, ICDsoft announces that they’ve got a new stats setup, and it can be found in yourdomain.com/stats/,

Intriguing – that’s the same directory that ehost used. Well, my Webalizer was still there, so I figured they didn’t overwrite anything and it was all good.

I just looked at someone else’s site that I know uses icdsoft and didn’t use ehost.

Guess which stat’s program they’ve got?

Self Portrait

uh

Got off phone with mom. She says this is no longer a racist issue, but rather my dad feeling like I don’t love him.

wtf.

Where’s the after school special that I never watched that’s going to guide me how to deal with this?

wtf dad

Just got a phone call from my father.

“I’m sorry, but if you go through with this, you are no longer my daughter.”

“This” being moving into an apartment with roommates of my choice.

One of the other things he’s threatened me with was cutting off use of the cell phone.

I threw the phone. It’s broken.

If you’re reading this mom or dad, you fucking win. I won’t move in with Troy if it’s that fucking important to you.

nyu~

I have a blue kitty-ear headband. I wore it ALL DAY.