Yesterday was my lovely's 21st birthday. So if you see her around, wish her a happy birthday ... or ... a very merry unbirthday. And I'll sit over here in my corner and continue to sing "Happy Birthday" to the tune of Handel's Hallelujah chorus. 9-part harmony and all. If you don't wish her a happy birthday directly, at least think it, you know. Maybe if enough people think it, she'll feel it, and maybe her birthday wouldn't suck that much. And if we all clap our hands, and truly believe in faeries, they won't die. Remember that everytime someone says "I don't believe in faeries," a faerie somewhere drops dead. And for everyone who doesn't fucking wish my lovely a happy birthday, they will drop dead as well. I mean feel my wrath. No. I mean ... they just suck. There. Go fucking wish her a happy birthday. Or at least clap your fucking hands ... RIGHT NOW! Okay ... that being aside. Right now, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten yet today. I didn't really want to. Took me half an hour just to get out of bed this morning. And for some reason, that line from Monty Python's Holy Grail was going through my head. BRING OUT YER DEAD!!! I'm not dead YET! I don't know why. It made me laugh when I actually said aloud. So anyway, I skipped breakfast because I really just wasn't hungry ... but now I am. It's 9:45 AM here, and I'm starving. But the funny thing is, in about half an hour, if I don't think about it, I won't be hungry anymore. It's weird like that. Only when I seriously focus on being hungry, do I stay hungry. If I find something else to occupy my thoughts, then I completely forget that my stomach's emptier than MC Hammer's bank account. I found a poem on the Theatre website, written by someone named Quiet. I don't know his real name. It was all right in places, but some aspects of the poem make it lose a little something. I mean, it's so full of imagery, allegory and metaphor - and then, our of the blue, it has two lines that are just straight forward. And that bugs me, because it breaks the fluidity. Every once in a while, too, it intentionally rhymes - and that bothers me, too ... because that also breaks up the fluidity - and I like for poems to be fluid and ... ah, fuck it. Go read it. Thru These Autumn Eyes I like the second stanza, though ... They twist and they turn with such life, but they are dead ... They hold vibrant colors that bring joy to our eyes, red and yellow and orange and brown, but they are dead ... They crunch beneath your feet as you walk, or cushion your fall wien you jump, they exist thru sound, but they are dead ... Yeah, that's really the part that I like out of all of it. The rest of it just seems like he's trying too hard to sound deep, profound ... uhm ... dark, I guess. Too ... stocky, I think. He's no Poe, but those few lines were okay. I know, you know, that I don't really have a right to criticize other's poetry, because, well ... it's -theirs- and they wrote for themselves and ... whoever they dedicated it to ... but still, I also have a right to say what I like and don't like. And that being said, I will now commence in telling all of you about yesterday morning. Yes, I skipped class yesterday morning. Why? I didn't cook my chicken completely the night before, still just slightly pink, HOWEVER, that's enough to make me puke up my guts around 4:30 in the morning. It wasn't so bad. I felt much better once I got it out of my system. And my day went on fairly well once I started going to afternoon classes. I met up with Kelley, Melissa and Randi around lunch, you know, to just talk and whatnot, catch up on all of the Players stuff I've been missing due to work and class (because working 3 jobs, going through college classes, and being secretary of choir is kind of a load, you know; I never have time to go to meetings, because they're held durning class). I was nominated for Homecoming King in Choir, but I respectfully declined. I'm just not King material ... plus, you know, I don't really like to take part in those contests because, well, it's all just a big popularity contest anyway. I could tell that Melissa wanted to decline from her Queen nomination, but everyone pressed her to at least represent the choir ... so she gave in to peer pressure. I feel sorry for her sometimes, you know? She needs to learn how to say 'no' ... like me. Of course, I told them my reason for declining was not only that I don't think I'm King material, but also because I have to work that day and wouldn't be able to make it to the announcement and whatnot. And this is what the girls and I talked about. A little bit about Players, you know, talking about doing the Sutton Elementary play thing this year - falls on Halloween, so this should be fun. Melissa's going to be Delirium again, and I, of course, will be Desire (from the Sandman comics for those of you who don't know). But, to save the kids from thinking "What the fuck?" when we put on our little improv act, Melissa decided she was going to call herself the Psycho Butterfly Faerie Outcast ... Thing or something like that. And I, of course, was going to be a villain of sorts. We haven't decided on everything yet, but for those of us who already have costumes for that day, we're trying to build characters around the costume. All I need is a cape and I could be an evil count or ... something. We're still brainstorming because only four people out of twelve (I really hate people sometimes) showed up for the meeting. This is going to be a long entry, I can tell, because I still have quite a bit to talk about. Anyway, while the girls and I are having our little meeting during lunch at the lounge, you know, Emily comes up. First thing she says is "Hi, Seth! How are you! I never get to see you! Guess what happened to me yesterday - blah blah blah" doesn't even give me a chance to get a word in. Doesn't even notice the fact that my face is pale and green and I'm constantly looking like I'm about to puke - and the fact that Melissa's having to hold my right shoulder back to keep me from falling out of my chair. And every single fucking time Emily sees Kelley, she asks if she's okay. Emily is part of Kelley's problem, you see - always asking what's wrong, complaining that busy-busy-stressed Kelley never does anything with her, always inviting us over to her house for a party - She fucking makes everything a party. "Oh! It's Kelley's half birthday! Let's have a party!" "It's the Angel Premiere! Let's have an ice cream/banana split party! BYOB (bring your own banana)." I don't know ... you can speculate on this one all you want to, but I'm still trying to figure it out. "It's the first day of fall! Let's have a party!" "I bought some candles! Let's have a party!" "It's Monday! Let's have a party!" "I farted! Let's have a party!" I'm serious, people. And Emily's fucking psycho. I mean, she can't stand to be alone. And she doesn't give us a chance to decline, or even ask us if we have something already planned - and when we tell her that we do, she gets all huffy and tells us that none of us ever want to spend time with her, or that we're just making it up to not go because we don't like her, or that we're avoiding her ... Well ... yeah, sometimes we do make stuff up, because we're fucking ANNOYED AS FUCKING HELL that she keeps thinking that life's a fucking party, and not asking us if we have other things to do in our lives. I mean, we have lives and social lives, too ... and it's not our fault that the woman is a social leper. Social leper ... yes ... that was the term that Kelley coined last week. I like it muchly. It's because Emily doesn't know how to make new friends, so she clings to and fucking suffocates those she does have, thereby driving them away. She's also two-faced, I've noticed. And you know what? I don't know what was wrong with me yesterday - could have been the chicken, I don't know, but I just fucking told her, finally, to her face, that I didn't feel like hanging out with her because I wanted some time for me, because I never get it, and I didn't want to go to any fucking party, that life wasn't a fucking party, and told her to learn how to be by herself, because people aren't always going to be around. And I did it all ... in a very quiet ... monotone voice. And I think I scared the shit out of her. But then, I also think I made her cry, because she left after Kelley threw her hand over my mouth and said, "Don't listen to him. He feels like shit. Food poisoning." I'm sorry that I made her cry, and I can understand how she doesn't want to be alone, but seriously ... this has been going on for a year now, and no one's ever sat down with her and told her that they have a life, too, and need to live it before they can live other people's lives. Everyone has their own schedule, and she shouldn't feel bad that people have to go by that schedule first, unless it's an emergency or something. She can hate me now, I don't care. I think she does hate me, though. This morning, I ran into Randi again, just before I came to the computer lab. She asked me how I was, I told her I was feeling much better. Much, much better. I'd finally gotten everything out of my system - chicken, feelings and all - plus, I got to talk to my lovely the night before, which really made my day. And then Randi pulls me aside and talks a little more seriously to me. See, she works in the bookstore with Emily (who is, by the way, the manager of said bookstore). And Emily was talking to Randi yesterday afternoon as they were closing and said. "I know why I never get to see Seth anymore now. He just likes to move on to new and better friends and leave his old ones behind. He abandons his old friends for better ones. He's such an asshole. I don't know why I ever liked him. Proves that a pretty face doesn't make a pretty person." And I just stood there for a minute, and blinked a couple of times. Then I looked at Randi ... and just ... laughed. And she started to snicker, too. I guess we finally know just how two-faced she can be. Did she only hang out with me because she thought I was "pretty" and "liked" me? Thought she might have a chance or something? It wouldn't surprise me; that was the main reason she hung out around a few guys last year. And yes, I do feel a little bad that I never have time to spend with all of my friends. And I hate to admit it, but I'm seriously a really popular guy. I only have two very very close friends, and they always come first, everyone else follows a chain. If I find time for them, then I find time for them, but Melissa and my lovely always come first. I don't understand, though, why people can't understand that I'm working three jobs, taking 18 hours of classes, plus have voice lessons, a recital coming up, choir, Players, S.A.F.E. (Students Allied for Equality), WKWC, Club Crossfade, classroom observations, family, wedding plans, sister-in-law-to-be-with-baby-on-the-way, laundry, cleaning the apartment, balancing the checkbook, and actual school work to do ... People like Emily, who only have one job, a steady income, a house and no priorities just don't understand why I don't have time for them. And those are the type of people that I seriously want to bitch-slap upside the head. David thinks I'm spreading myself too thin as it is - and maybe I am. Maybe he's right. I don't know where I'm going with this. I had a point, though ... I think I just made it. You know, I've never been too good with ending things, so ... that will be the end of this entry, I guess. Wait, no. Last night, after getting off of the radio. I should have gone back to the apartment to work on my lesson plans and math journals. But did I? No. I ran into Josh and Meredith and we went to Steak N Shake. I spent money I didn't have, but it felt good to hang out with them and just relax for a while with some friends. They want to be on the show next week. And I say that's quite all right, that I don't mind. I'd rather have the company. Time flies by when you have people with you in the station - and you're not as scared to be by yourself in the building, because you aren't alone - you have people, and those people are being very loud and funny and talk about Man-boobs and how guys with a B-cup or larger should wear a bra and ... yeah. Don't ask. I won't tell. Yeah ... just ... end, I guess. I'm sorry, but I must abandon you all now. I've found a better friend. His name is Food. Blessed be. P.S. Next time, I'm going to type up a story that was a Round Robin Kelley, Brad, Jennifer and Daniel wrote last weekend on their way to and from Kentucky Kingdom. It's fucking hilarious.