Yesterday and the week before, the people in my precal class were as healthy as a bud when it's blooming into a pretty flower. No coughs, No sniffs. No sneezing. They were in tip top condition.

Today when we take our finals, I hear deadly coughs, sniffs, wet oogley sniffs, sneezes, grunts, and groans.

What the hell happened?

I was sitting smack dab in the middle of the mess. Cherry, the girl who sits behind me sniffed up dry snot until her nose made a squee sound, and after she makes that sounds, she has a hard time breathing and makes groaning sounds. And it was constant, and every 30 seconds or so, she would do that. The guy who sits next to me had the wet blubby sniff that sounded utterly disgusting while testing. And Steven, his coughs made him sound as if he were going to die. I don't understand why they couldn't just get their butt off of their seat, blow their darned noses and save themselves the time of constantly wiping their noses with their fingers and such, distracting themselves during the test.
Ugh, what made my test taking experience for precal worse was that Tomasulo was busy throwing things around the room making a racket while we were testing. Sure, he wasn't talking, but that constant shuffling is sure to distract someone. He was fixing his printer, ripping paper that got jammed out. He was attempting to change the ink while breaking something. He was chucking old ink cartidges into a giant trashcan that he hauls into the room while we were testing. He crumples a ton of paper many different times throughout the test.

Have some decency, man. :x



So really, when you're about to take a biggo test, rest up, and stay fucking healthy so you don't annoy the heck out of other healthy students in the class.

Last night Jenny and I went to a bar. Not just any bar, a gay/lezerban- type bar. (Yeah, shut up, I can't spell lesbian.) B)
The only reason I post this tonight is because I wasted the night away. (Duh!) We got our groove down, drank margaritas until our stomachs couldn't handle it, and of course, we met others like us.
Well now, it was fun and interesting because I got to try exciting new things.


The truth of it all lies in this message. Decode it, beetches.
bayi bazam gnibaxly stobaydicayi. ebayw abayet nerraynid tbaya seebbayletayppa.

:D Yeah, yeah. It's the code my friend and I used back in sixth grade to communicate to each other while writing letters. :roll:

Hotdamn, bay-beh!
Note: I'm tired of AIM. If I don't respond, take no offense.

LastStarryNight~
Because MySpace sucks.
Esu.Tu.Efu.Yu. :x


Jennifer pwns Justin by . .
JC:6
SLM:2
o:



If you would grow a tentacle and use it to shag a dead guy, copy this and put it in your profile.

Let's see, my dad comes home before twelve, which isn't normal, sick. He's here regurgitating quite a bit making a really unpleasant sounds while doing so, since it is nice and loud.
My mom doesn't seem to give a fuck that my dad is ill. Rather, she prepares for Chinese New Year.
What the hell is that?
Not only does she prepare for Chinese New Year. My dad's illness gives her a chance to yell at my sister and me for not learning how to drive because now we are all unable to transport my dad to the hospital if needed.

And what am I doing? I am complaining in this entry while trying to finish up my stupid English homework about feuds.


And no, I am not going to bug my mom for money for AP test registration because hey, timing cannot get any better right now. Really.

Mr. Johnson: (to Mr. Tomasulo) Do you see that girl running?

Mr. Tomasulo: Jen?

Mr. Johnson: Was she in your running team?

Mr. Tomasulo: [ Message temporarily off-line. ]

Mr. Johnson: Yeah, she's good.


B) Booyeah. At least someone thinks I'm good.

._.

My dad gets sick and starts barfing his head off.
One down, three to go.

Next, Karen gets sick and starts barfing her head off.
Two down, two to go.

My mom takes care of Karen, and now she feels like barfing.
Three down, one to go -- Me.

;___________;

Some fuckers stole my mom's purse today, and of course, I condemn the act.

My mom is tiny. She's partially blind. Short stubby legs so she can't walk quickly. Defenseless. Vulnerable. I mean, who in the right minds would steal from a small little Asian woman who is just trying to walk home when it's pouring outside and freezing cold?

Little short, bald fucking Mexican guys. That's who.

I don't mean to sound racist, but hell, those were the guys who stole my mom's purse.

So now, those fuckers have my dad's unpaid for cellphone, my address, telephone number, house keys, car keys, possibly the alarm to the car, checkbooks, credit cards, cash, red envelopes for family members, membership cards to the doctor, bank account numbers, pictures, and quite possibly social security numbers.
God, do you know what those fuckers can do with that kind of information?


This isn't the first time this has happened to my mom, but last time 10 years ago, we were in L.A. That place is of course, unsafe. But T.C., God, who fucking does that in T.C.? Have they no morals? Why do that to a person like my mom?
u_u Those fuckers even took a bell I made for my mom with my picture a while back that I said, "I love Mommy" on it.

I'm pissed. Obviously.

But if those fuckers think that my mom is stupid for being able to have her purse stolen by a bunch of dumb Mexicans who are going nowhere in life and are going to try to live on money they steal from people, then they're the stupid ones. If only my mom fought back instead of trying to keep her head dry from the rain and used that umbrella to whack the guy, things would've been different.

Fuck you, you thiefs. I hope you drove away so quickly, that you crashed and died. No, seriously. I mean it.

I have the hiccups. They're deadly sounding hiccups, and they won't go away. Gonk.

I've tried standing on my head.
I had Karen pet/stroke my throat three times, and when it didn't work, she petted it even more. xo
I drank bottles of water, until my stomach was too filled with water.
I had Karen tickle me so I could get scared and scream.
I tried shrieking.
I tried to scare myself.
I tried to inhale my hiccups.
I even breathed. Hodamnmans.

[Edit] I even breathed. Hodamnmans.
Or not. o.o; I lied down, and my hiccups stopped. I thought that when you lie down, you don't breath as well. Oh well. It works. ;D


xo

Valentine's Day cards.

It's just like back in gradeschool where you would buy those boxes of 32 and give one to everyone in the class.

Well I wanted to get a box this year for Jenny and dedicate it all to her, because we swing like that, ye know. xo~ Anyhow, When Karen, Hans and I went, we saw pretty ones, but Karen was frugal and didn't want to pay the extra 30 cents.

Soooooooo, when I finally went without Karen to get a box for us at the last minutes, all of the pretty boxes were gone.

I was finally able to find one that didn't look as ugly as every other box that was left. Yu-Gi-Oh.
And I still had to pay that extra 30 cents. *cough cough Karen*



Yu-Gi-Oh, bay-beh. It's what the cool kids get.
Yeah, I crack myself up. :roll:

I blocked this guy on AIM once.
Then I unblocked him a few days ago after doing an buddylist clean.
Now I remember why I blocked him.
He was annoying and had a crush on me. u_u



[Edit] Oh yeah, Happy Valentine's Day.
Because saying V-Day is for pussys. : DDDD~

Jenny threw her history book off of the second story so I could catch it and so she wouldn't have to lug it down the stairs.

The book hit my wide open hands and slipped off as I let go because it hurt. D:

That was smart. That, it is.

Snail mail. And more mail than your daddy.

:gonk:

My dad got the mail today and noticed there was a bit more than usual.
As it turns out, there were over 10 letters for me and all of them said, "Are you compelled to learn more?
Blah blah blah. You should consider _____ College blah blah blah"

Dude man, I get all of these college letters, and none from my watermelon buddy.

Where's my letter, darn you? xo

FUCK
And that has made all the difference.

My eyes are dry.
It irritates me so, because it makes it difficult for me to stare at the monitor as I try to come up with things to say in my research paper.

I need tears, liek, now. :x

Cry, baby, cry!

It's past midnight, do you know where your happy is?

I don't.
It ran away from me because I was studying for my Chemistry test.
Now my happy is a long lost soul, wandering around to find a new owner.
It'll come back, I hope, since it's a loyal happy, probably after 6 o'clock tomorrow.
But that's such a long time to be without a happy. ;_;

COME BACK!~

I always tell people that I hate Mrs. Gewecke, my chem teacher and they would always reply, "Why? She's so nice. [Insert Mrs. Gewecke praising speech here]."
Yeah, whatever suckups.


After spending a good 3 hours on my chem lab with the guys trying to figure out why our percent error was so fucking large, and in the end, give up and use a 98 percent error, we get an email at around 10 o' clock. Ten 'o fucking clock, saying that whoops, instead of the molartiy of NaOH being 0.10 M as printed on the fucking paper, it was in fact, 1.0 M.

And now, everyone has to change their work they did in ink, and no, we cannot use white-out.

I bet half of her students won't read the retarded e-mail.


Bitch.