Whaa?
This is a section of what I call my memoirs, but I'm not that old and it's more or less me writing what I am seeing/thinking/pondering/whatever. Enjoy and please see your doctor if problems presist.

And away we go! Whee!
When you are up late wide-awake and alone, you start to notice things that you never would at a decent hour. For example it one-thirty am, I’m wide-awake and watching CNN, and my knuckles itch. Quite badly, as a matter of fact. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to scratch your knuckles, but it isn’t as easy as it sounds. But if my dad and sister where down here with me, I never would have noticed that.
Dogs stink more too when you’re alone at 2am. Jeebs, my dog, sleeps inside now as it is about a bazillion degrees below zero outside. He’s an Airedale, which means that he has curly matted hair unless you shave it every week, and since it is winter, we keep him in a thick coat. Unfortunately, it traps the stink like you could not possible comprehend, so unless I have piles of incense burning it constantly smells like a compost heap when I sit next to him. The cat, who is a recent addition and has yet to be named, also shares this sediment and tries to keep a wide berth. But since she is new and nocturnal she roams around, sometimes getting close to Jeebs. When this happens I hear her skittering around on the wood floor, panicked, until she regains her senses and wanders off again. This is only one of the fascinating nighttime actions that one can notice.
Another is tea. Tea is so frigging wonderful. Real black tea has a sophisticated taste that says, “I can also enjoy my caffeine in little tissue paper bag form.” I get the imported Indian tea with titles I can’t and don’t care to pronounce, like ‘Nailihalighi black’ and ‘Saraphenjireuhgi green’. But the box has pretty drawings of blissed-out monks and dancing village women and that’s all that matters. Plus it tastes like leather and vanilla, if such a thing was possible. Herbal tea has failed to wow me once I figured out that I was more or less boiling dandelion seeds in water. It’s very disappointing to realize that since there is no caffeine in it, you are for no reason drinking the byproducts of lawn waste.
I have a satellite dish and can tell you that after midnight most channels switch to either thinly disguised porno or infomercials. News channels and music channels are the exception. If the description says ‘erotic thriller’, it’s porn under the cover of a murder mystery, in which the cop investigating the murder must sleep with as many strippers as possible to build his case, even if the case has nothing is do with strippers, the murder has signed a confession, and the murder itself was witnessed by a the entire House of Representatives, he still must perform the duties of a police investigator. If it says ‘mature situations’, it means that at least fifty percent of the time someone is naked or high. If it’s on Showtime after midnight, it’s pretty much naked time. A lot of ‘premium’ movie channels will do this, sort of like the way the video rental store slips in ‘Alien Lust 2000’ in the sci-fi section. Why they need to is a complete mystery to me, there are at least five porn channels anyway. The infomercials are no better. The History Channel stops showing actual programming after midnight, which really bums me out because I am a huge dork and love the History Channel. All time I get psyched up about pyramids or Druids or whatever the hell they’re talking about that month. But nothing interesting comes on, so I’m forced to watch MTV, which I usually hate because the M apparently stands for mundane because instead of music they show Real World, which I really hate because living in a lovely house in New Orleans rent-free with other beautiful people is not the real world. Carson Daly also pisses me off. When he auditioned for the job, did he display some sort of amazing talent, like pyrokinesis or speak in tongues, and then when he got on camera, the suits say something like “Ah, screw it. Just babble inanely and introduce Mariah Carey?” Also, a lot of the videos pander too the lowest common denominator, that being lithe women in spandex or nothing. I can only watch that so many times, once, before I want to put an ax through the television. So TV isn’t all that good late at night after Conan signs out.
Since nothing is too wonderful after midnight, I sometimes pop in a video for inspiration. Video, I say, not movie, because a movie involves plot. No, I usually opt for sketch comedy, which I entirely enjoy and record for this purpose. If I get interested in something I commit only four minutes tops to it before the shows moves on to another premise entirely. I have a short attention span. I could be at the Oscars, up for a best actress award, and my mind would start to wander, something along the lines of who is worst dressed, closely followed by how I would get out quickest and discretely in case of gun wielding maniac. I would concentrate on this until someone yelled my name amid applause. The redeeming quality of this is that I can filter for things that may be of interest to me. Al Gore could be lecturing about the economy, his voice a winding drone, but if he mentioned my name I would suddenly be paying rapt attention.
This is a not entirely a bad thing. I cannot be hypnotized. I tried once at a fair. The hypnotist, he was the sort of act that put be under so they could pretend to strip and have seizures upon seeing a Gumby doll, had a good thirty people up on stage, including my sister. Once he instructed us to lean back, relax, and think about being an evaporated water molecule, I stopped paying attention. Once his little spiel about the ecosystem was over, everyone else but me and this Hispanic guy where under. His lovely assistant went around checking everyone’s state of mind. I sat up there, sort of smiling and waving at the audience and looking at the other strong-minded guy. He, I and a few other people where ushered off-stage to watch everyone else make a complete ass of themselves. If this is any indicator, I cannot be brainwashed either, which means that your secrets are safe with me.


AND NOW THE SAD REMAINS OF A ONCE GLORIOUS WEBSITE
4/15/02
Happy 17th birthday to me! I offically become mature enough to see R rated movies at 2:28 pm Pacific standard time. Also today is my nephew's first birthday. Last year my brother got away with not getting me a present because he said "Hey, I got you a baby nephew." He is a cute little baby though. Me and my sister got him touch and feel baby books, Kittens and Jungle Animals, because you can never start too early in your learning. In fact, I wrote a novel when I was six. Ok, that's a lie, but I was in the accerlated reading program, whereas I got ice cream once a month from the principal who would took all the good readers out for ice cream. As a side note he turned out to be a child molester. That's not a joke.
Added a guest book on the contact page. Please sign it. Ever since I got a site I've understood why people ask you to sign their guestbooks. I love hearing from you guys. You don't have to fill in all the field, just let me know what youse guys thinks of the site. Also check out the poll on the site. Who am I kidding? Only a few people actually read my little update thingee here.
Via con dios.

4/17/02
A haha! I am 20 people away from the 1000 hits mark! Yeah for me!
Got my Kids in the hall documentary dvd whatever. I have no complaints. I watched it yesterday. Odd. Dave Foley got the laser eye surgery and they filmed it, which probably would have freaked me out had I not seen them do it to my mom. They just cut the cornea open and start hacking away. Eversince the third grade I've had really crappy eyesight and I want that surgery real bad. I hate wearing glasses and contacts because they are such a major pain in the butt-ocks. My science teacher filmed his when I was in high school and we all watched it the next day. So when my mom got it done, which cost like a grand a damn eye, I had to drive her back from the eye guy. It was waaaaay up on the South Hill and I never go up there, so I kinda got lost.

My mom, who has seriously dark glasses on. "Dani, do you know where you are going?"

Me, frantically looking for something familer "Yeah. I've been here before."

My mom. "Slow down, you're going too fast."

Me, irritated because she always says this even if I'm not. She goes like 45 on the highway. "How can you tell? You can't see anything."

My mom, who thinks that the national speed limit needs to be like 35. "You always drive fast. Turn down the radio too."
And so forth. I don't like to drive her around.
Godspeed though Texas,


4/17/02
You'll notice I've changed the banner. That become I may start a bonifide actaul website with a guy veiled in mystery. Exciting, eh?
Anyhow check out my *new* custom page. It isn't lists or anything, but an essay on, well completely random things. Enjoy.
Stay tuned for more info.

4/19/02
Took this test online that says what Kids in the Hall character I'm most like. Check out contact page to find what I relate to with the bunch of kooky Canucks. Copy and paste html. Or URL. Whatever you prefer. I think you will like it.
http://tjhamilton.freeservers.com/kithtest.html

4/22/02
I hate this. I can't find a freakin' job anywhere. Spokane's economy is dead. If anyone wants to give me a job, or better yet, just send me money, let me know.
But you don't want to hear about that. I finally did my report on Japan for college, and I'm happy. My new shoes look homosexually fabolus, but they hurt my feet. And I am very tired. It's a haiku. Not really. But what do you want me to say?
I laugh at the clouds
then they rain on me.
Bastards.
now that's art.

2/24/02
Ok, I joined a club at my college. It's a human rights club, so just the point is to point out that humans have rights. I'm just glad it ain't PETA. Humans are better then animals. We were given them to eat. Why do you think God invented chickens? Huh? It's not like they serve a purpose like horses or monkeys or dogs.
Don't get me started.
Anyhow tonight I am going to a banquet and the guy who wrote my textbook, Ronald Takaki, is going to be a guest speaker. His book is actually really good and I'm (gasp) enjoying my reading assignments.

4/27/02
Ate way too much cake today. Anyhow in two weeks I will be in Fedral Way, chilling with my peep Jackie (I actually don't talk like that. Wanted to see what it was like.) Then I get to see kids in the hall. Yaay! Promise now, I will get one of them little dispoable cameras and take pictures, then I will post then here. Not a promise as much as it's on my to do list.
Peace out

4/29/02
Man, I am so hungry. I don't see how Ghandi did it. But I ain't protesting anything, I've just resolved that since breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and coffee is the most important beverage that it's socially accpetable to drink before noon, that having only coffee at breakfast is like food nirvana. But that damn dharma has screwed me over again. I'm just hungry and jittery. That and the fact that I can't morlally eat poptarts for breakfast because they are more or less cake. All good breakfast food takes way too much time to make. I love pancakes and waffles more then any woman should, and the less said about me and my obsession with syrup the better. Uhhh, I got distracted again. But first and foremost, I hate eggs. I will make them about twice a month, remember that I hate them, them throw them away in a disgusted rage. I can't eat ceral with milk because I hate that vile cow juice. I am so damn sick of toast. Toast makes me angry, and when I get angry, people die! So I'm avoided toast for you people. For the good of all mankind I starve myself. I have classes until 11:30 so I go and get eat afterwards, but somehow it's not the same, you know.

I was looking though my old Barbies last night and I realized that there is a lot of potenial there. So I started to act out scenes from my book, which pissed my sister off because she said that I was hogging the 'man doll'. It's really amazing, but thoughout the many untold times I played with barbies with my sister, we always had one man doll, whom we just called 'man', as in "Help me Man, I've being attacked by the plush toys of doom!", so we always fought over the man doll in a way that made the chariot scene in Ben-Hur look subdued. Anyhow it went something like this.

Babie #17, as Victoria Trent. "You don't love me anymore!"

Man doll, as Christopher Ward. "Oh God, don't give me this crap! You are so paranoid!"

Barbie #17- "I'm paranoid?! You are always thinking that the moment I leave this house I'm sleeping with another guy!"

Man doll- "Yeah, that's because you usually are. this!"

Barbie #17- "You always blow things out of proportions!"

My sister- "MOM! DANI WON'T LET ME USE THE MAN DOLL AND SHE'S ONLY PLAYING WITH HER DOLL!"

I wanted to play melodramic passive aggressive barbies. My sister wanted to play Maury Povich barbie. It is so boring playing "Whose the father of my baby?" when all you have is one man doll and a biazzre Michal Jackson doll, which we don't count as a man. Any how it's always the man doll. So my sister and I just have exagerated southern accents and make the barbies slap each other, then play my pure funk cd so they can all get down.
As Lou Reeds says,
take a walk on the wild side.

4/30/02
At some point in human history, one guy or girl imgained one day that technology could do something, incrediable! They didn't know exactly what, but they knew that someday in the distant future mankind would reach the zenith, but somehow continue to climb.
Well, we haven't exactly reached that zenith, but CD burning kicks ass. My new favorite bands are the Dead Kennedys and Pavement. I'm also reaching a renisance in old cowboy music, like Frankie Lane and Johny Cash. Because damnit, my heart know what the wild goose knows and I walk the line. I love those songs. Somewhere deeply planted in my brain is the song Wanted Man. It's great.

"Bullet in my shoulder/blood running down my vest/twenty in the posse and they ain't ever gonna let me rest/Until I became a wanted man I never even owned a gun/but now they hunt me like a mountian cat and I'm always on the run.
I think a lot of people sing it, but Frankie Lane does it best. I've heard it on old 33's my entire life. Also Michelle Shock is one of the best indie/folk songwritter/singers out there. Truely we live in a wonderful time.

I was thinking about how much it would suck to live in medival time. I mean I would have been married off three years ago, given birth several times and buried half of them. If I was lucky. Most people died of the plague.
As No Doubt says,
Keep on dancing.

5/2/02
I couldn't care less. Or perhaps I could. The calls up to you. Regardless I'm going to see that spiderman movie tommarow. I don't know why, but something about Tobey Maguire calls out to me. I don't find him all that attractive or charming, but I am compelled to watch every
and there it ends. damn it

GO BACK HOME TO FUXKER MAIN

Did you like that, ya hideous old hag?
Sorry. I hope you did. Return every now and then, I post new stuff sometimes. Email me with feedback. Feedback=happy=I write more.

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