lauren says:
his extensive vocabulary?
CONSTANT VIGILANCE! says:
haha. that doesn't exactly work.
lauren says:
you know that turns you on though
CONSTANT VIGILANCE! says:
that's why i find him sexy.
lauren says:
haha
CONSTANT VIGILANCE! says:
hahahah

Me = CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

Sorry, everyone.

I sold out.

Heehee, this ad-supported accouplusnt is awesome. My journal looks really pretty now!

I'm slightly tired, and very cold. Why is this school always cold? It's freezing most of the time, despite the fact that we have carpeted walls. Carpeted walls--what is the point?
I have no idea what's going on with the schedule right now. Supposedly it's lunchtime, but no one's left for lunch.

I finished the first novella in the J.D. Salinger book I checked out. There's a quote from Catcher in the Rye that sums up my affinity for Mr. Salinger:

"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though."

Damn bell.

The subject's a reminder to myself.

So, computer class is three hours long today because the freshman are taking end-of-course tests today. I ought to do my trig homework, but I've got an hour and a half.

Yesterday I crashed the Anything Goes cast party. Really, Mr. Ipina didn't mind, but saying I crashed it makes me sound cooler. Free pizza and a bunch of my friends--it was fun. We were supposed to be watching the video of the performance, but no one paid attention to the TV except when their parts came up.

I bought the new Georgia Nicolson book this weekend. I didn't even know it was out! I love the updated covers; they're adorable. I'm really sort of mad that it ended on a HUGE cliffhanger. I was all set for Georgia to get with Dave the Laugh, then it was the end of the book. How much does that suck? I also ordered one of my summer reading books. The book's titled, "How to Read Anything Like a Professor." I can't wait to get it. Mrs. Moser showed it to us earlier, and it sounds hilarious. One of the chapter titles was, "Everything's About Sex--Except Sex." The best part is, we don't have to write anything on it. Score.

I suppose I should do my trig homework now. It's logarithms, which I only have a vague grasp on.

Oh, last night I checked out Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction by J.D. Salinger from the library. I flipped through it, and my name is used. I haven't decided whether or not that's an awesome thing because I haven't read far enough to find the character and figure out whether she's an agreeable person or not.

EDIT: God, this is stupid. We were assigned even-numbered problems only, but I keep forgetting to skip the odd-numbered problems. I have no idea if I'm doing them right or not. I'm just writing down crazy stuff. I hate logarithms.

Now it's done. I've still got about 30 minutes in this class.

I brought my camera to school today, but the batteries just died. Argh.

color-coded as to who wrote what

The Great American Short Story

by Charlotte Fuqua and Catherine Dawson
and whoever else feels like they can add a sentence

It was a dark and stormy night. The trees creaked and swayed like a drunken granny. Apparently the granny hadn't gotten any in a long itme because she reached out her branches to poke any man who walked by. All of a sudden, there was a huge bolt of lightning and a resonating clap of thunder. The thunder and lightning weren't so important as what they illuminated. It was a crouching body, cloaked in cloaky darkness. The form seemed to be tensing, then with a hiss it leapt forward out of the cloaky darkness to reveal a horrigic visage. It was as hideous as a hideous person on hideous pills. It was hard to tell if it was a person, an animal, or even if it was of this world. Just a quick look at the creature revealed its dire nees for a bath adn its striking similarity to [Name Withheld]'s hair. Ye gods! It was Dylan's hair! yet beneath this mind-numbingly horrific hair (obviously purloined from Dylan's rotting corpse in the next scene), the creature had a short of Shrek-like cuteness. The cute quality in this creature stemmed from its pathetic whimper. The sound it was making made you want to take it home and giveit a bowl of oatmeal.
"Mah name ith Patwick. Ah'm fower," it squeaked.
Upon closer inspection, I discovered the creature was a child, caked with dirt and hair and leaves. He looked as if he would be quite an adorable child once he was scrubbed with industrial strength exfoliating body wash. Patrick liked to talk out loud, whether to himself or his invisible dragon male nanny, Antonio de Dragonescu. Patrick also liked his brother who will remain nameless for his own protection...but one thing can be said: at 6'1", with black curly hair, electrifyingly green eyes, and rock hard yet only slightly defined abs,he was a total babe.
I eventually took Patrick home, cleaned him up, and gave him some actual clothes. As the weeks passed, we became fast friends. While Patrick talked about his brother a lot and even showed me a picture (that he kept tucked only God knows where), Patrick never mentioned his family or why he was wondering in the woods on that dark and stormy night. One day, in the middle of Patrick's daily Hooked on Phonics lesson, there was a knock. At the door. Had someone come to take away the only joy and companion of a previously misanthropic, reclusive seventeen-year-old? I though as I warily made my way towards the front door. I discovered that it was the UPS guy. My packages had arrived, containing large amounts of fashionable if not insensible footwear. After going into ecstacies over my new souliers I looked up and noticed a strange sound emanating from my kitchen. Oh my god, I thought. It was Patrick's hot brother--stored in my freezer. He is cold... I must warm him iwth my body heat.
While "body heat" was my first impassioned, lustful thought to keeping him warm, logic and morals soon prevailed. I told Patrick to guide his borderline-hypothermic brother to the couch while I ran to the linen closet and feverishly sought my thickest blankets. Sadly, the thickest blanket I possessed was my admittedly warm yet highly unmanly My Little Pony comforter. Finding nothign else, I heaved a sigh and thought, "Why do I have to be so good? Oh God, I'm giving hte hot guy a bright pink quilt with cartoon ponies on them." I carried the blanket under my arm and use my free hand to cover my eyes lest I be exposed to various naughty bits. Being unnaturally clumsy, I then tripped and conveniently let my hand uncover my eyes--to catch myself, of course. Me being clumsy, I did not catch myself. Instead, I caught a big handful of my handsome visitor's thick, muscular forearm.
"Wow. Thanks." I found myself talking to his feet--I was suspended with my face three inches from them.
With me still clutching his toned forearm, he brought himself (and me) to a standing position. (Thankfully, Patrick was holding a throw pillow up to cover any rogue gonads.)
"You're welcome," he said. Oh, his voice! It was like a symphony of cherubim and seraphim dancing in a puddle of sugar-spun wonder. Our position, though, was slightly more than awkward. The My Little Pony blanket somehow wrapped around my feet and I was clutching at a naked guy's arm whose decency was only kept in place by a four-year-old holding a pillow.

More later.

When you see the name charlotte_gf, what are the first three words (or pictures) that enter your head?


Tag 3 other people to copy and paste this meme in their own journal:
tgies, hpgoonie, and underthethrow

I'm supposed to only answer yes or no, but I'm going to include explanations.

Taken a picture naked? Yes, but I deleted it almost immediately.
Made out with a member of the same sex? NO.
Danced in front of your mirror? Lots of times
Told a lie? Too many times.
Gotten in a car with people you just met? Yes.
Been in a fist fight? No.
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? Yes.
Been arrested? No.
Left your house without telling your parents? No.
Ditched school to do something more fun? No.
Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex? Yes.
Seen someone die? No.
Kissed a picture? Yes...
Slept in until 3? Yes
Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by? Yes
Played dress up? Yes
Fallen asleep at work/school? Never.
Felt an earthquake? No.
Touched a snake? Yes.
Ran a red light? Almost.
Had detention? Yes. In 7th grade.
Been in a car accident? No.
Pole danced? No.
Been lost? Yes.
Sang karaoke? Yes!
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes.
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? It was Sprite and it HURT.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes!
Kissed in the rain? No, although I would like to.
Sang in the shower? All the time, plus dancing.
Got your tongue stuck to a pole? No.
Ever gone to school partially naked? NO!
Sat on a roof top? Yes.
Played chicken? Yes.
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? No.
Been told you're hot by a complete stranger? Yes.
Broken a bone? Same bone twice.
Mooned/flashed someone? It was a complete accident.
Forgotten someone's name? Yes.
Slept naked? Yes, although I striped unconsciously while sleeping.
Blacked out from drinking? No.
Played a prank on someone? Yes.
Felt like killing someone? Yes.
Made a parent cry? No.
Cried over someone? Yes.
Had sex more than 5 times in one day? Um, no.
Had/Have a dog? Yes.
Been in a band? Yes, haha.
Drank 25 sodas in a day? No.
Shot a gun? I was too scared.

Charlotte's sort of bored. The student teacher is gone! OHMYGOD My teacher just started playing ABBA! Take A Chance On Me. It's a pretty good song. (Haha, she had the words wrong.)

No one comments. I have no idea why I keep updating this thing.

I just finished reading Catherine's Cosmo. It was the shirtless guy issue. Niiiiice. I learned lots of things that I will never use.

I figured out how to get my mascara absolutely perfect. I have a very old tube of Clinique Long and Pretty Lashes, which has degenerated into more of a lash tint, and I have a tube of MAC Zoom Lash. The Clinique doesn't provide much volume or lengthening, but the brush is perfect and I've never seen a single clump. The MAC mascara lengthens nicely, but the brush's bristles are too thick, so they spread the mascara too haphazardly. Haphazard = Clumpy lashes. So, I dip the Clinique brush into the MAC tube, and voila, the perfect lash.

This is so silly. I'm talking about makeup techniques on an online blog. People at my LiveJournal will appreciate this more. Double posted!

God, I hate this game. The teacher plays a song, everyone tries to guess what it is. Last time, I tried to guess but got every single one wrong and the entire class was rolling with derisive laughter.