d-d-d-death

don knotts.

dennis weaver.

darren mcgavin.

isn't it ironic that they all die within a week of eachother? these 70-80 year old gentlemen.

very interesting that all of their names begin with a d. or that each name has a double consonant.

muy interesante.

blew away his blue plate special

and didn't look back as she walked out of her hole in the wall...i like that song.

if anyone has any suggestions for new music, i'm all ears. i'm slowly learning about the genius that is depeche mode (i still don't know if i'm spelling it right) and i've heard a little bit of michael buble, but i need to hear something that will blow my mind away.

so, if you have any idea what that might be....

fine, do not leave europe, asia, or the americas!

well, last night was strange. i don't know where to begin. probably somewhere close to the beginning. that'd probably be nice. so sit back and be prepared for the longest story i have ever told.

tuesday night, my dad told me that we might not make it to the game on time on wednesday. i immediately went from "little late" to "we're probably not even going." he said he'd call at noon the next day. he didn't. but kirstie came over. and we did...nothing. we barely spoke. we watched some tv. we mainly just sat around thinking about what we could be doing. and cleaning out my drawers (she started it, for the record.) so 5 o clock comes around, and dad's not home, so i'm not really holding my breath at this point. but he picks us up at about 6:55 (5 minutes before the game starts..in Atlanta....20-30 minutes away...) but it was fine, since we were on our way, and i was happy.

i had mapquested where we were going. i had the directions all neatly written out. but no. wasn't good enough for my daddio. he called kirstie's dad and got directions to turn LEFT on to the international highway. we're driving for about 40 minutes before he realizes that he missed it. we can't turn around, because traffic is horrible. by 7:40, we give up hope. we are not getting to this basketball game, and that's all there is to it. but we decide to get a paper and check out the movies playing around there. we go to waffle house and eat. we find a movie theater playing cheaper by the dozen 2 (shutup) and decide to try and find it.

yeah. we never found that theater. i think they just put the add in the paper to mess with us, honestly. we looked, though. my dad stopped by a pizza hut (the theory being that they would know where we were going, since they DELIVER PIZZA.) that was probably the most exciting thing, because we saw a hispanic jay leno. it was fantastic. kirstie and i were giddy by then, and screaming "jay leno!!" a lot. but it was fun.

so we found A theater. not the one we were looking for. since we're still on our quest for cheaper by the dozen 2, we go past that one and keep hunting. but we notice something, perhaps the scariest thing of all. we are right beside three different wachovias. in the vicinity of 7 different starbucks. 3 different papa john's. 4 publixes. it was like the same city viciously repeating over and over, trying to confuse us.

we eventually turned into a strip mall place with a kohl's. we looked and looked, and went around to the other side of the building and saw (get ready) another kohl's. there was a sign that said cinema. where's the cinema, we wondered. well, i'll tell you where it was. it was hidden. behind the sign that said cinema. we had to hunt for it. and then we realized that it wasn't the theater either. but we didn't care. we had the choice between pink panther, nanny mcphee, and when a stranger calls (what is with all of these horrible movies lately?) we left it up to dad, but when he went up to the person and said, "3 for pink panther, please," we cringed. went inside, got some dippin' dots (yes. there was a dippin dots machine. and it was wonderful.) , and went into the movie.

those were the most uncomfortable seats in my life. and the movie? it was one of those movies that was so stupid, it was actually a little bit funny. out of context, that it.

after the movie, we were laughing uproariouslyas we rode past the two different kohl's, screaming bloody murder. but we turned around and saw a news van, a video camera, and a man with an umbrella speaking into the video camera (i'm sure we made it to national tv. with voices like ours, how couldn't we?)

we got lost. again. so we asked a gas station guy. i swanny to gah, we must have pulled over 8 times through the course of the night. we'd be going down the right road, but my dad would get all paranoid and decide to turn around. then, when he'd ask, the guy would tell him that we were going on the right road, rendering him (essentially) useless. we got home at about 1 in the morning.

but no. my night doesn't end there. went up to my room (quoting the pink panther the whole time), stayed there for a little while, and then chris joined us. chris. chris was high. and he smelled like ass. and it was not very pleasant, because chris has very grating laughter. and yeah.

we finally went to bed at around 3. i woke up at 8 (of course.) and let kirstie sleep till 11. and we've been playing basketball for the majority of the day.

today and yesterday have been the weirdest days i can ever recall. ever.

thank you for your patience. i appreciate it from the bottom of my...heart.

**yeah. i made a lot of grammatical/spelling errors. i'm tired. shutup.

cleaning

i really need to clean out my room. i know i do this every break. and occasionally on weekends. but seriously. i clean it to perfection, and then in between times i just put stuff wherever. i need a filing cabinet. or a bunch of boxes. which i have. yeah. and i want to take my pictures down, but at the same time, i love having them all around my room so i can look at them and go, "hey, that was a good day." i saw some photo boxes at the dollar general earlier. i almost got it, but i decided sunglasses tromp photo boxes anyday. especially if they're the best sunglasses ever. like, 4th of july sunglasses and big bug eye sunglasses. yeah. i'm a fetishist. i like my sunglasses.

i needed to get out of the house earlier. my mom wanted me to stay and watch chance. kinda made me angry. but i'll get over it.

my eye is burning like crazy though. i made sandwiches earlier with cayenne pepper, and i guess i didn't get all of it out from under my fingernails, because when i went to scratch my eye, it was like an explosion. i hate my eyes. i wish i could trade them in for better ones. i'll go blind by 25, i swanny.

4 out of 5 people eat spam. 0 out of 4 people like it.

wow

i go to sleep at 8. i wake up at 6. that's 10 hours of sleep. i've been doing this for about a week, excluding wednesday, when i stayed up till 1. it freaks me out when i do this.

but i'm happy. in about 8 hours or so, i'll be out of school for a week. and wednesday i'm going to the hawks/supersonics game with like, every friend i could possibly want (go smartness.) i think i sleep in excess when i'm either really happy or really sad. i've been both this week, so that might explain it.

but now i have to go. 8 hours of hell await.

we were in justin's basement....

top ten little known facts about high school:

• freshmen are actually amongst those most revered and are never picked on/made fun of/ 'freshmeated' ( a process that involves raw sewage and carrots)/wedgied/noogied/or thrown off of water towers.
• the morning announcements begin with a special rendition of an 80s pop song. today was "video killed the radio star." yesterday was "girls just wanna have fun." tomorrow will be "like a virgin."
• flava flav has visited every high school in america, and at each one, he opens a bottle of champagne and pours it on the ground. he invented the teenage alcoholic.
  
• play-doh keeps the ceilings together.
• Stockbridge High School was where the dodo bird became extinct.
• all high school teachers aren't really teachers. they're really federal agents trying to find the next ray bradbury. when they find him, they will puth im through endless hours of watching clueless and married...with children.
• people frequently go around the hallways saying," Heyyyy," accompanied with thumbs-up sign and smile.
• only three people in the school understand what is meant by portables. the other 2,000 students think we're learning in movable toilets.
• tom cruise once went to high school. people were constantly spraying him in the face with toy cameras. it seems that he still hasn't learned how to stay away from them.

and finally, the last thing you didn't know about high school:

• we don't "dissect" frogs. we rip the flesh off their bones with our teeth and molest their innards with our eyes.

bet ya didn't know that.

have mercy on me

so i'm sitting here, in my chair, enjoying my valentines day chocolates and listening to JET via headphones (since the speakers aren't working) and suddenly, someone's touching my shoulders. i scream, "RAPE!" (honestly) and jump up, scared out of my mind. but it's just my mom. and i feel like an ass. but it gave a good laugh.

and no, it's not the first time that's happened today. johnny warbucks asked me to give money to a teacher (yes, he was bribing her because she molested him. no sense in hiding it, i knew you'd figure it out eventually.) so i took the check and he warned me that if i didn't give it to her, he'd cut out my spleen. he then tickled my stomach. again, i jumped and squealed. even though i saw it coming. because my name is hillary, and i am a big baby.

and my nails are pink.

so it's valentine's day

i'm not a cynical person when it comes to valentine's day. i love it. i don't care that millions of dollars are made off of people trying to romance their significant other. i'm glad people care that much.

but i have two tests, an outline due, and 3 quizzes today.

so yeah, i'm a little cynical today.

the elephants are kindly but they're dumb

as i'm not having what can be described as the best day, i decided to do what is probably the most hazardous thing a semi-veteran blogger can do: i decided to press the Next Blog Button.

don't ask me what drove me to it. it was as if the Button was a magnet that i could not help but be attracted to. as i clicked the Button, i waited anxiously for the results. it was almost as if the thoughts,"please don't let it be in a foreign language," jumped out of my head and onto the screen, for what i saw didn't phase me: a blog in french. but i kept going. and after two blogs trying to sell me something (one of them of the naughty variety,) another obsessed with a certain canadian "punk" rocker and vampires, and another speaking in tongues, i found gold.

i found the gypsy cab co. or rather, the person who writes the gyspy cab co.

and it is funny (sort of.) and not as annoying as it should be. but most of all, it's something new. it's a new life to look through, a new brain to addle.

i almost feel like buzz aldrin.

punky's dilemna

Wish I was a Kellogg's Cornflake
Floatin' in my bowl takin' movies,
Relaxin' awhile, livin' in style,
Talkin' to a raisin who 'casion'ly plays L.A.,
Casually glancing at his toupee.


Wish I was an English muffin
'Bout to make the most out of a toaster.
I'd ease myself down,
Comin' up brown.
I prefer boysenberry
More than any ordinary jam.
I'm a "Citizens for Boysenberry Jam" fan.

Ah, South California.

If I become a first lieutenant
Would you put my photo on your piano?
To Maryjane,
Best wishes, Martin.
(Old Roger draft-dodger
Leavin' by the basement door),
Everybody knows what he's
Tippy-toeing down there for.

should they call me mary wanna?

to smoke or not to smoke? whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the outrageous something or other of not being half lit or to be a clean soul. they do say that you're body is a temple.

i've never tried marijuana and yielded any results to be remarked upon. the only thing i've ever tried is alcohol. and i think i smoked a cigarette when i was 10 or something, but i can't be certain.

it's half that i'm afraid to be caught and half that i don't really think it's necessary. even the cool factor isn't really anything to be remarked upon, because i don't see how i'd be any more awesome if i were holding a joint. or, for that matter, smoking it.

yes, my friends do it. no, not gracie/kelsie/chynna/gracy. probably not kirstie. i mean the others.

and it's true that i've threatened to kick certain orifices because someone had marijuana in the vicinity. like, right on my freaking arm. even right now, i'm wanting to yell at the person i'm talking to because he's telling me how stoned he was this weekend. and mostly i do it for my own personal safety, but honestly, i think these guys should lay off. half of my friends have been suspended or expelled for this stuff.

ah, you crazy t-stick, you've done and confused me to hell and back.

happy february

ever feel like you don't know your friends, like, at all? yeah, i've kinda been getting that feeling.

i'm just...sick of being excluded. i can't be trusted for the simplest things. i've run myself into the ground, and it's my own fault. i need to get a job. maybe that'll help. i don't know.