watch bad tv

cause it is bad. and it is tv. bad tv

kill yourself justine. kill! yourself!

Official school holiday today. Whoop whoop. The college calls it “Study Day”. Ha ha. Like, 24 hours of studying. On a Friday. Soooooo retarded. I woke up at 3 PM. (15 hours gone.) Did some drawings and watched my mom cook dinner. (3 hours gone.) Washed AND conditioned my hair. (1 hour gone.) Had my meals and talked to people online. (2 hours gone.) Talked on the phone. (50 minutes gone.)

I’m going to look for my Geography notes now. (Probably another hour.) Move the junk from my table to my floor. (Half an hour.) Make a snack and then eat it. (Half an hour.) Study Day O- V- E- R. No staying up past my bedtime because I’ve yoga class at 8 AM.

Go back to Australia?

I mean, go back to Australia.

(Ahahahaha! *virtual high 5* Nut!)

Wazzzaaaaa…..! I just got back from my run!! Whoohooooo!!! My friends are slightly confused now. Ha ha!! Yea, guys! I run! I mean, I CAN run! Like, the whole “put your right foot in front of left foot, pant profusely, turn red, repeat” thing. (I turn red every time I run.) I do it pretty fast around my neighbourhood. Hah, for serious. I even wear track shoes and high socks. I do it regularly. Ie: every 3 months. (I got blisters when I wore ankle socks in June.) (The scars haven’t gone away. Ask me and I’ll show you the next time we hang out!)

Anyway, I managed to do 6 Math questions at night study in college today. Or yesterday. Or whatever. Thursday night. (Averages out to 2 questions per hour.) Whoaaa…… Felt quite discouraged/like dying. And they were questions on the topics from Term 1. Can’t wait to see what happens when I start attempting questions from topics taught to me this semester. (Difficulty x 38791837) Haaaaa……. Fortunately, Nigel mixed us some drinks, which really helped take the edge off. And the parent volunteers brought scones. And grapes. Scones and grapes. Grapes and scones. Ha ha.

I think I’ve been applying myself this whole week. Ha ha. (Does anyone say that about themselves?) At least, this is what I think it means to be applying oneself. It’s like, I’m actually using MY HEAD to solve Math crap and learn all these characteristics about the various market structures. It feels grrrrrreat. You should really try it, if you aren’t already doing it. Apply yourself! I never used to use my head for anything that wasn’t about myself. My thoughts before today were a lot like these: What should I eat during recess- Teriyaki salmon, or focaccia? Hmm, what about lunch after school? Or, I don’t know…. Just stuff that’s gotta do with me. Me me me me me me me me me me. Now it’s like: What are the barriers to entry in a monopolistically competitive industry? C’mon, Justine. You KNOW this. You just spent 2 hours writing notes on this shizz. You know this, sista. You can do it!!!! It is a surprisingly nice feeling like no other, focusing on stuff besides Justine. Who knew?? Whoa, major little emperor syndrome much. (A lot many heaps extensive loads.) I’ve recently discovered that I’m a bad person. I’m selfish, insensitive, irresponsible, (imagine 6 other negative traits here). I ALWAYS eat the last bit of ice cream when we share cones. And even then, you’ll bear the full cost (60 cents) of the cone, while I eat four fifths of it. I only offer you food when I don’t like it. (Lisa’s brownies, pork chops, rotten fruit, …….) And, I always laugh at other people just to feel a bit better about myself. (Especially fatties.) When someone is running to catch the elevator, I press the “Door Close” button and then act like I’m trying to hold it for them. Every single time. I’ll break something, and then blame it on someone else. I’ll say to my friend, “Use things, not people. Love people, not things”. I’ll exploit a close friend as a warm body, right after. (He’ll realise soon enough, and then he’ll call me a Bitch. We’ll stop talking. I’ll talk to someone else. I’ll go on to ruin THAT relationship/friendship too. I’ll feel lonely/sad, I’ll reintroduce myself to the boy who knows me as Bitch. I’ll make him hate me less. We’ll hang out. Maybe we’ll laugh a lot and he’ll try to kiss me. I’ll make a joke about it. I’ll definitely make him hate me more. We’ll stop talking. I don’t even flinch. I’ll talk to someone else. We’ll have dinner. I’ll get to watch a free movie too. I’ll be told great jokes the whole night. I’ll laugh. A lot. I’m always laughing. He won’t know me well enough to know this of course. (You just told a really awesome joke. I’m laughing. That’s all. You deserve it.) He’s biding me goodnight at my door, and he’s expecting a kiss. How do I know this? I don’t, actually. So I just say Thank you, have a goodnight. I even extend a handshake. We’ll instant message and laugh about it in the morning. He’ll run out of great jokes to tell by late afternoon. Talking becomes a chore. I don’t do chores unless my mother screams at me to do them. I think I know I’m being hurtful. It’s obvious. It doesn’t stop me, though. I’ll continue. I’ll repeat. I’ll continue.) I judge people I don’t know. (Side note: I confessed to Jane yesterday over lunch that I used to hate her because she looked like a cat. Phew. Felt so light after that.) I’ll believe anything anyone says. I’ll pour the water in my water bottle away just so I’ll have an excuse to walk to the water cooler. Its strategic location in our canteen makes dreams come true. (I was formally introduced to a certain dude yesterday. *fist pump* *chest bump* *head bang* *knee bend* Stella is sooooooooo eligible for sainthood. I owe you guys this story. Remind me.) And I mean, harlow???? Could I be more inconsiderate? Already the government spends a huge sum of money turning our shit into drinking water. Just stop it, Justine. Enough is enough. What are you trying to do? Make Mother Theresa wet herself?

See, I HAVE self discipline, yer sons of bitches. I can and will discipline myself anytime, anywhere. (Past 5 AM, on the Internet.) Waaahhhh- tahhhhhh!!!!

I think this entry has gone off topic. A lot of times I come here with the singular intent of saying something to You. Tonight, I just wanted to say “Study for your exams”. Other nights, I alternate between saying “I miss you” and “You are an idiot”. I say it so softly, sometimes I’m pretty sure you don’t hear it. But it’s OK. Because I’ll read it, and I’ll get it. It’ll take me back to the moment. I’ll live in that moment. For as long as I like. Until it makes me so happy, I get dizzy. (Don’t give me that face, Rah.) (Ha ha.) (Turn that frown upside down!) Most nights now, I’ll leave you an “important message” that’s also laden with other things. Normal things. Like, what happened in school today, what my mom said, frustrations, new clothes I bought, etc. Normal things. Normal things. Normal things. Normal things that I should be telling Other People instead. I think I’m actually really angry right now. With You and/or myself, I can’t figure out. Could also be that it’s 5 AM and I’m just tired. Of where I am. And the incredibly long day that Thursday was. Plus that 20 minute run. Ugh. I hope you know I’m talking to you the only way I can.

Ha ha ha ha oh my God. I think I’m gonna start reading Newsweek or something. I’m writing like a spastic retarded asshole. I have promooooooos next week. Now is not the time to be a spastic retarded asshole.

my first rant

I’ve never ever really actively participated in a cyber war before, unless you guys count Fashion Wars on Facebook? But I’m on Team Charlotte. It’s the best team. (No offense.) Or, maybe yes offense?? Since we’ve opposing views? I dunno. (How is this supposed to work?) Ha ha ha. FUCK YOU. You’re a joke. Ok. I’m really angry. I feel like my soul is on fire. Sorry, you gotsa be collateral damage in all of this. It’s nothing personal. (My stuffed toys are way too cute.) Ok. Fuck Geography too. Ok. Sorry. I’m really really REALLY hungry. And you know how I get when I’m hungry. Actually, maybe you don’t. (I am unreasonable when I’m hungry.) (I’m unreasonable when I’m not hungry too.) (I’m generally unreasonable.) Ha ha ha ok fuck off. Bye. Oh oh oh, one more thing. I think I’m going to get my period tomorrow/day after tomorrow. (Got a gut/uterus feeling.) This is a fucking sick joke, God. I used to bleed fortnightly, which was weird enough. It was pushing it, a waste of money and sanitary pads, as well as super annoying all at the same time, but I didn’t do much. I mean, I complained. But I only just started whining about it recently. You know how long I’ve been bleeding weird. I know you know. Don’t think I don’t know. Gee, imagine how much more pissed off I’d be if I were a synchronized swimmer? And how dare you succumb to peer pressure??! Don’t let Sarah pressurize you into doing anything stupid just because she has the biggest boobs in the world. I know you are better than that! You are three persons in one. Hell, Sarah is ALSO three persons in one. But that’s only because YOU made her that way. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t make her better than yourself? (She can’t do shit with 5 loaves and 2 fish.) (And she sure as hell can’t turn water into alcohol.) (Trust me, I KNOW. We wouldn’t still be sneaking vodka in plastic bottles into restaurants to avoid the corkage fees otherwise.) She was just trying to be funny when she exaggerated and joked that I bleed “5 times a month”. She is constantly doing and saying things which can’t/shouldn’t be taken seriously. You know this, right? Unless you’ve been watching the new episodes of How I Met Your Mother instead of over us. Just kidding. I know you’re watching us. (I can feel it.) It WAS kinda funny when she said it on her tag board last week. But you’re just spoiling the joke. It’s not funny when you try and make it happen for real. And you know what? Sarah might get pissed off, now that you’ve ruined her joke. But she’ll get over it. I mean, she has boobs. She has the boobs of fifteen girls combined. Talk about boob disparity. (Btw, wtf Cotton On? My friends got me a ton of your bras for my birthday, but really, they’re more like extra pockets you strap onto your chest. I can fit my wallet and 2 packets of tissue in there if I wanted to. Hi. Small chested people exist.) (I don’t want to wear a training bra my whole life.) Anyway, don’t let Sarah put ideas into your head! She has ALWAYS been a super bad influence. Even on me. But if I (functionally retarded) am able to distinguish right from wrong (on most occasions), I’m sure you (omnipotent) can too. Resist peer pressure. All the cool kids are doing it. Fuck Sarah and her boobs AND her bright ideas. Ok? That’s all.

I

can’t

write

another

line.

*keels over*

Peace out. Rant over. I love you all. I’m hugging you through the computer.

Ps- I actually had a REALLY good day. (I wonder where all this is coming from.)

I’ve never really turned 17 before in my entire life, so last week was pretty amazing because I think I turned 17 at least 6 times. That’s 6 birthday cakes. Waaaahhh- tahhhhh!!!!!! (Hugs/kisses/cuddles for everyone especially Rah, Nut and Charlotte)

Oh oh oh. We practiced our fight scene along the street at acting class today, and people actually stopped to watch! What can I say? We’re pretty good amateur actors. Ha ha ha. Not really. Ok, I must get into the shower now because I smell like fish! Cya.

Ms B: “Nigel, what do you get when feldspar reacts with water?”

Nigel: “Uh, lime water.”

(Maybe try Clay at promos.)