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2004-09-07 at 3:31 p.m.
So I need to lose weight. By November. No set amount of pounds, but any large amount will do. Anything over 15. 20. 200, whatever.
So I think I'll keep a progress journal here. I mean, this won't be changed radically to fit the new purpose, but I just mean, I will mention it somewhere in this journal. "It" being my progress. Progress, journal, everyone caught up? Good.
School sucks. No, sorry, not school. Just 2nd period. And kind of 3rd period. I have had it up to here (imagine vague uppy motions) with teachers and their obscure directions. My English and Digital Graphics teachers all give these vague, open-ended instructions about things, and then they get all gripey when you don't do it to their exact specifications which they somehow neglected to inform us of.
ARGH. Whatever.
I have no homework! Yaaaay!
I have a headache! Awwww...
Angel Season 4 came out today! Ours was shipped today at least. Woopie! I can't wait to see David Boreanaz go pole-dancing.
No, I don't know why, but it's apparently in the outtakes.
Man. That means in half a year or so, Buffy 7 is coming out... and with it the end of a legacy.
Dang. That's harsh.
So I saw 13 Going On 30 yesterday, when Lindsey came over to hang out.
It was cute. Had some really funny bits, and I love Mark Ruffalo. He was cute and sweet and dorky and dumb, and y'know. The kind of personality that's always the "overlooked best friend to the pretty girl who gets passed over for Mr. Hot Guy."
It was pretty archetypal, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Another movie I saw recently was Timeline.
Meeeeeh. Ethan Embry is my pretend boyfriend. One of many. Shhh, don't tell them.
But seriously. The movie was okay. Kind of... um, well, sucky. Boring, too. The action bits were alright, and they had really hot Irish and Scottish and English guys... Mmmm.... United Kingdom and company....
Anyway. The acting was pitiful on the behalf of Paul Walker. He looked out of place and awkward amidst a sea of intelligent-looking, European, kind of pale, archeologists. And you know he always looks like he's been out surfing...
Oi. It was alright. But the hot Scottish guy stayed behind, and ended up being the one-eared knight beside his beloved bride that he himself found encased in a tomb before he was sent back in time.
Confusing? Piffle.
Oh! And another movie. Geez, we're just movie-riffic this week.
Anywho, we got Kill Bill under our belts this time, and we're headed straight for Kill Bill Vol. 2. Exciting, no? I thought so.
It's so silly. Quentin Tarantino is a strange little man, but I like him. He's a large fan of making copious amounts of blood, the color of ketchup rather than, um, blood, spew out of victims.
Perhaps he himself is afflicted with hemophilia. And... ketchup. He bleeds tasty french-fry dippings for hours on end when he gets a papercut.
That explains everything.
Or maybe he just stole all of the fake blood from the old Monty Python prop department.
That's also possible.
Well! I think this entry has rambled on long enough, don't you? Besides, my finger hurts.
My locker bit me today, and took a small chunk of out of my pointer finger on my right hand, so, um, ow.
I'll see you guys tomorrow, or whenever I update.
Adios!
<-Ghost->
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