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Arch-Angel

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Blog Entries posted by Arch-Angel

  2. Arch-Angel
    Ugh... What a way to begin a Spring Break...
     
    By not having one.
     
    Obviously, in this entry, I was excited to get the he(ck) out of that governmental, educational prison.
     
    Not much happened after that entry.
     
    There was the Boston Marathon which interests me and a bear is about an itch on a shark's fin. Although there was this intense neck-and-neck race in the Women's division...
     
    Monday and Tuesday both proved to be as fun as they sound.
     

     
    In a freakin' nutshell.
     
    Today, I went to the doc's place and he check on this particular spot where an ingrown hair has become an internal pimple and is causing me pain... the location is different story...
     
    So my sis dropped me off at the Southboro Medical Center and BOUNCED. She said she looked hideous in what she was wearing (ain't no lie) and went home to change into something more... fit? Reason being, she had a job interview to go to after she picked me up from the Med Center. Took her long enough. I finished my appointment with the doc and went on the second floor balcony for some sun and warm, warm 70s with the scent of the beautiful flowers blooming and life springing to make my nose a passageway to reminscing about the good times as I heard the kids across the street in their backyard playing on the trampoline...
     
    I miss the fun life...
     
    She does her interview, we pass by our apartment and see that a cigarette lit the mulch on the garden facing the highway, pick up Dunkin' Donuts, see a firetruck headed to our home, head home, and the men of fire do their yobs by taking care of the 'blaze'.
     
    Yobs is spanglish for jobs. Yobs...
     
    Yeah... get used to it.
     
    In other news, I was welcomed to lunch by one of the staff. It was... good...
     
    Truly my life is about as much fun as chopping of your head and having in used in the World Cup.
     
    Hoping to have some fun...
     
    ~AA
  3. Arch-Angel
    Labor Day... The first day of September, the first day rockin' the sexy orange, and Makaru's birthday.
     
    Funny, I made his b-day topic in CoT and Kex yelled at me.
     

     
    I was literally loling.
     
    Right now, as I was looking to see if the Natick Collection was open (the Natick Collection is the Mall of America of Massachusetts, basically), which it is, I found out that the Lego Store is hiring for Sales Associates. The Collection is a bit of a walk from school, and with the fall and winter rolling around, it'll be harder to walk, but I'm looking forward to the cold surprisingly. I think it'll bring back my poetic spirit, and maybe my writer's side as well. Right now I am indulging into my artistic side, and though I have a picture I'm proud of I want to show you... the scanner's broken, but writing needs no scanner on the internet!
     
    IF YOU SMELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.............................. WHAT THE ARK IS COOKIN'.
     

     
    Sorry. With all the good the today's brought so far, I feel great.
     
    And while I'm at the Collection, I'm going to have my first Dr. Pepper, but it's WaWa's favorite drink.
     
    Yep... maybe some lunch in Friendly's too. But Friendly's is my depressing location. I like to eat there only when depressed. Reason being is the on July 4th, day after I broke up with Bionigirl, I ate there just to please my mom. Couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror just to curse at myself inside at how much of a fake I was being at the time.
     
    *sigh*
     
    Okay, come on Jonny Boy, no depression, not today. Today's a gift from God, appreciate it.
     
    I'd like some album suggestions, as I'm headed to the music store at the Collection. Be quick por favor.
     
    And guys, thanks for the congrats.
     
    ~AA
  4. Arch-Angel
    Songs I listen to on the treadmill:
     
    Far Away by Nickelback
    Thunder by Boys Like Girls
    On Top of the World by Boy Like Girls
    Ocean Avenue by Yellow Card
    The Rock Show by Blink 182
     
    All. Love. Songs. Suggestions greatly appreciated.
     
     
     
    I think I've found a drive to my Summer Marathon, you know, something to keep me going.
     
    I imagine myself in one of the most popular marathons among athletes, The Boston Marathon. When I was a tot, my parents brought me to the marathon as it crossed through our town, and when we lived in the ghetto, it was only a block away. The runners run 26 miles in the cold, sometimes raining, sometimes against mixed showers, in the cold to prove only one thing: that they could do it.
     
    I've never, ever thought I'd consider running the marathon.
     
    For the past three runs on the treadmill, I've imagined a prize at the end of the 26 miles.
     
    Her.
     
    I don't care about no cash prize or finally being the dude to beat Robert K. Cheruiyot (winner of the last Boston Marathon, and I believe all the other ones. You know him as the Kenyan with the funny shoes), or proving to myself that I can do it.
     
    All I do is imagine myself running down the final stretch, sprinting, only running because I know she's there, and Robert K. Cheruiyot and I are neck and neck. The people are cheering, my Zune is blaring, Robert is making these loud puffing sounds that are annoying and he arms are moving so fast his sweat is hitting me which is completely disgusting, I got a cramp in my rib, my knees are killing me because the Mueller Knee Braces have met their days back at Heartbreak Hill, and my throat is cold from the frigid air. I'm sweating buckets and my body is constantly screaming swear words at me with each beat of sweat.
     
    As me and multi-time marathon winner close in on the finish line, kicking it up a notch with a sprint, I see one face running out of the crowd.
     
    My body forgets about the pain, that, or my brain put those nerves on hold. I pass my competitor, about to think home the victory. I was going to make history. My name would be in the papers, the TV, across the nation (even for a short 15 minute segment), and all over the state.
     
    She goes under the tape for the winner to cross, and runs towards me.
     
    I slow down, and pick her up in a swooping hug, feet away from the finish line, and we kiss for the first time.
     
    Robert passes the finish line, taking the wreath woven from olive branches and the money, and wins yet another Boston Marathon.
     
    But...
     
    I got the girl.
     
    We cross the finish line, hand and hand, and after a shower, I take her out to lunch.
     
    Sure, my body's exhausted and I'll want to sleep forever, but I am NOT going to miss my first date with her!
     
    ~AA
  5. Arch-Angel

    Song Of The Day 69

    By Arch-Angel,

    Somehow...
     
    I'm looking forward to 2009.
     
    I don't know... why.
     
    It's strange to me. A realistic pessimist, thinking the future is bright?
     
    I guess it's somehow natural after all the #### the last 365 days brought. And you know it brought a lot at me.
     
    After June's Plunge Into Heck and November's Road of Misery (yes, I'm starting to title events in my life), 2009 doesn't look like it could get worse.
     
    Maybe I'll make enemies, maybe I'll face death, depression, loss of things I cherish. But won't with each of them I'll make friends, see life, happiness, and gain things to cherish more?
     
    I don't know what's with the positivity, but I guess it's because I'm looking forward the next five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes of my life.
     
    Seasons of Love by RENT
     
    ~AA
  6. Arch-Angel

    Almost Cried.

    By Arch-Angel,

    I've been in a foul mood at 11:30 PM, the last remaining half hour of 2007. The scanner is broken, I can't give my entry to Ranna's contest (and she'd need it), and I haven't talked to Bionigirl in what feels like ages.
     
    I make my plate of food. Yellow rice, black beans on top, with rosemary pre-made chicken from Shaws to the side. Nothng I wouldn't expect. Just glad to have black beans, my favorite.
     
    I'm giving attitude to my mom and sister as they sit (mom) and lay (sister) on the couch. Alica Keys performed her hit song 'No One' to the audience of the possibly hundreds of thousands of people in Times Square of New York City. The final 10 seconds come up as that passes and the CBS News Team of New York interview celebrities and A. Rod finally. Never like A. Rod. Never liked the Yankees. FOf curse I don't like them, I'm a freakin' Boston Red Sox Loyalist. Won the World Series, so you can't say we suck and prove it.
     
    The Half-Ton Ball flashing its lights starts its slow descent to the unlit sign of 2008, which is hiding in the darkness. My mom decides 'Why not try to be a family these last remaining seconds of this year?' so she makes us hold hands. I never found us to be a family since my dad left us almost 365 days ago, Jan 2, 2007 at 2-3 AM as he was treated to the shiny bracelets and brought back to the station in the back of a Ford Victoria flashing its lights of red, white, and blue.
     
    The ball is going to make it.
     
    My 2007 face is still on.
     
    The ball reaches the 2008 sign and it lights up brightly proclaiming that we have now landed in a new year.
     
    Introducing my 2008 face.
     
    My mind starts racing instantly. Every thought, every sorrow, everything, and everyone that I have ever made contact with that had any impact on my life goes through my mind.
     
    And I feel tears coming to my eyes.
     
    My stone heart is almost broken, but stays strong.
     
    I feel hate. I feel pain. I feel anger. I feel sorrow.
     
    Truly wish I could feel anything but.
     
    My eyes are watery now...
     
     
     
    Its a stupid holiday. Its a stupid waste of my pathetic time. And its spent my someone as supid as I am.
    I could punch a hole in a wall right now, and I hope I hit the person on the other side.
     
    I'm looking at the empty can of Pepsi in front of me. First one of the year.
     
    Freakin'...
     
    Have a good year everyone. I'll be here swallowing down the foolishness and misery of my being.
     
    Have fun...
     
    BZPower...
     
    For me.
     

  7. Arch-Angel
    Routine lives are usually what drives insanity. A man that works a 9 to 5 job in a cubical without any social life outside of his prison will damage his mental stability.
     
    Unless his daily life is either one of two things:
     
    1. Removal of routine and do something different which may change up every once in a while.
     
    2. Keep with a routine, BUT... the routine evolves differently every day.
     
    That's Number 2 for me- Rehearsal.
     
    Rehearsal for my show, '¡Bocón!', this week was nothing short of great. This was the final week for rehearsal before we were up on stage performing for our first our school, then our family + friends, and finally for the preliminary round of Festival.
     
    Everything is great from Monday to Thursday. Our performance level grew better each coming day. We felt ready for our performances coming up; so ready that it felt kind of repetitive.
     
    Friday, February 27th 2009
     
    Our first performance was in the morning during D Period for all the Spanish classes and my Acting class. The feeling backstage was one that basically said, "Here we go for the hundredth time, only with 300+ classmates."
     
    That was the only thing routine about this week.
     
    Soon after I walked out of the dressing room, the vice principal pulls me out of my crowd of amigos, grabs a social worker, and a cop.
     
    Son of a...
     
    I knew what this was exactly for too.
     
    Two weeks ago, were had to write journal entries. But these entries had to based off the assignment they gave us: Creative Writing. Write a short story. Simple, right?
     
    Then they gave us the category of fear.
     
    Even simpler. We all fear something.
     
    So I talk to my English teacher and told him that this was not foreshadow, but a legitimate fear. He said okay, and I figured that was that. I wrote my rough draft of the fear. I handed it to him and reminded him it was fear. He said it was a pretty good story, the fear being under siege. He understood. The fear was a school shooting. Nothing scared the ###### out of me more than Columbine or Virgina Tech repeat. What can be worse than facing a gun at a place you consider safe?
     
    So when, at the end of that week, we had to finish the story and type it up, and the only story I could give an ending to was the 'fear' rough draft. It gave a setting, a character I could use, protagonists, antagonists, the works. I'm a writer, I go for this. I've taken a Creative Writing class (any long-time readers will know THAT was "fun" up until the last day), and I love to read, so I believe I can write a suspenseful story if need be.
     
    I wrote it up, full two pages, double spaced in MLA format, and turned the dang thing in.
     
    Now here I am, a cop staring at me, a social worker thinking every sentence I say is a hidden message that I need help, my vice principal, and the principal.
     
    Apparently there is no precaution you can take.
     
    I explain everything in detail, answer every question, and I stayed honest. Honesty is the only way I get out of most of my problems. Even with what I said, even explaining that I told my English teacher before and after and had him proof-read the rough draft, they weren't convinced. I understand their reaction, I just don't understand the over-reaction.
     
    They called a 24-hour Psychology Service to psychologically evaluate me, to see if I was 'safe'. The vice principal goes to see my English teacher to see if what I said was true. The officer waits to spice things up.
     
    Apparently my English teacher has selective memory, because he recalls nothing of the sort WHICH DID HAPPEN. I didn't another word for my fear could be "under siege" if it wasn't him.
     
    The psychologist comes in, a woman, nice lady. By the end of the questions and conversation and she sees me as safe and fine and NO THREAT TO ANYONE. They call my mom at work asking to come over to see how I react around her with this information. She's got bills to pay, she sends my sister who is also my legal guardian. Everything is fine. my sister understands me. The psychologist understands me. They are dubbed the only sane people in my head.
     
    Cue Officer Pain-In-My-
     
    He says that he and another officer should go over to my apartment and search my room for weapons. I let them search my pockets, my backpack, et cetera. Now with no evidence, they want to search my room.
     
    I let them. I didn't want to go through the process of them getting a warrant if I refuse, and I figured the less I fight, the better I prove my innocence.
     
    Hard to do when you have a lying teacher, a social worker that like to put the exclamation point at the end of all my sentences, and a overly cautious hard-headed rude cop wanting to prove you guilty, thinking you're in need of mental help.
     
    He comes back, finds nothing. He even went on my bookface plus mypersonalspace.
     
    LOOK AT ALL THE EVIDENCE THEY HAVE AGAINST ME:
     
    1. A paper about my fear of school shooting, guns, and all that THEY are afraid of.
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Fascinating.
     
    So the psychologist is told to set up an appointment for counseling on Monday. My sister comes by (she went with Officer Rudemuch) and picks me up from school. I didn't go to one class, not one. I was aggravated.
     
    My sister and I talk in the car as she took me out to lunch at the local Brazilian Steakhouse. The one good thing from all of this was that I got closer to my family. We were all aggravated from this.
     
    I get home around 3:30PM and have 2 and a half hours to get back to the school to prepare for the night showing of '¡Bocón!'. Relax a bit, take an Advil in case the knees start acting up later on and to take care of the headache I got from the whole... thing, and took a shower.
     
    Went to the show, got make-up on, costume, played my role, took care of the set, had dinner that night with the rest of the cast, carried on.
     
    Perfect way to end a horrid day, and it was still a bad day.
     
    But the best memory I had that night was at the end of my show, my dad walked up to the stage and got Steve (our set designer, practically my American dad) to call me. The moment I walked onto the stage and saw him, I ran and jumped off the stage and hugged him as tight as I could.
     
    '¡Bocón!' is a story about the journey a 12-year-old boy from El Salvador trying to cross the border into Los Angeles after his parents are taken by the soldiers controlling the country with an iron fist.
     
    My family immigrated here, my distance families immigrated here, and more of my family with immigrate here. I know this story. I know the people who've experienced it. They are mi familia. To see something telling the struggle... what more could I ask for?
     
    Saturday, February 28th 2009
     
    Festival.
     
    It was a lot like Theater Exchange, except most of the schools kept to themselves because... it's a competition (not like it's a sport Oh freshman drama children...).
     
    When we went up to our play, the feeling of the play suddenly changed. It was serious atmosphere. This was what we prepared for since December. Time to pull out our best and aim for the prize.
     
    We received a heck of an applause after our performance, which, even though we got a good crowd reaction, still left us a bit nervous as to if we would move on to the semi-final round. We striked the set, went back to our dressing room, got changed and back into the theater to watch the last show.
     
    I get a call later on.
     
    My mom and my sister came in five minutes late. They couldn't see the show because the ushers outside wouldn't let them in. My mom cried, angry with herself. Sister told me she kept saying how this was the one moment I've been living for in months and when I wanted to show her, she messed up by being late.
     
    I wasn't surprised. Really, my mom's late for nearly everything. So at first hearing this news, I was fine.
     
    It didn't take long before getting under my skin.
     
    This was something I wanted to show them so badly. It was my pride and glory. No other show I could do could carry more inner meaning to me than this one. And the possibility of not going to the semi-finals to give another opportunity to see me was enough to shoot down my happiness.
     
    Rachael saw the look on my face and knew something was up.
     
    Leave it to a girl to crack me open. How do they do that? Nevermind, I already know.
     
    I confess the stress to her and she attempts to encourage me. She told me that '¡Bocón!' was awesome and their is no way we couldn't get into semis. Doubt still lingered in me and of course, she knew. She distracted me with her humor and by switching topics, and eventually they worked. I was distracted by it. Even more so when we went downstairs to the Festival Dance in the cafeteria.
     
    Flashing lights, deafening sound of songs, single chicas?
     
    All I needed was a Pepsi and I was halfway to being home.
     
    I danced mostly with Rachael. She has a boyfriend, and she knows I want her to only be my friend even if sometimes the Crush Rush lands on her. So with this in our minds, we didn't have any trouble dancing away; fast dancing or slow dancing.
     
    By the end of the dance, I think I danced with five girls, picked up two, did one group dance, and lost five pounds.
     
    The time came for the Award Ceremony, and everyone at the dance walked back to the theater. This was the moment of truth for all of us. The judges that saw our plays would now hand out awards for each person(s) that they felt deserved it, and at the end announce which three plays out of the seven that competed tonight would move on.
     
    The Award Ceremony was exciting, and each time you heard one of the judges describe the winner you felt either you were it or someone in your play was. There was a time where a judge described my character and some of my friends up front guessed me quietly, though I thought it wasn't me. I chuckled at myself when I was right and didn't get the award. It didn't matter to me. They can keep their awards. I just wanted '¡Bocón!' to move on to the semi-finals.
     
    When the time came for the plays that'll move onto semis, everyone grabbed hands. The first play was announced; Weston's For All The Wrong Reasons moved on! They wrote the play themselves, and included a perfect sense of emotion and comedy. You could give empathy to each character and laugh at the silly jokes they gave. But at the end of the play, your eyes swelled up with tears as you saw a man's life broken by his ignorance of responsibility.
     
    We gave an applause and held hands again.
     
    I prayed. I prayed hard. I begged and begged and pleaded and I don't think I stopped until I heard the next name.
     
    "¡Bocón!"
     
    We jumped in the air at the news. Everyone started hugging the other. I started thanking the Lord.
     
    We sat down and waited for the next name.
     
    Algonquin's The Underpants! My favorite comedy play I've seen so far is moving on! I don't care if they're competition, they're acting is great, their script is great, their execution of saying things that would make me start rofling on stage was great!
     
    The judges said good night and we got up and started doing what we been urging to do: hug each other.
     
    In the mist of hugging Rachael, I suddenly realized something.
     
    My mom and my sister will get to see my play. Everything this play has to say, I get the chance to say it to them again.
     
    I started tearing up again.
     
    Then I just started crying I was so freakin' happy.
     
    After clearing up the water works, I went around, joining the hug fest celebration with the rest of the cast. We go out to eat at Friendly's, have a grand time, and I finally go home with the good news.
     
    Monday, March 2nd 2009
     
    Snow day.
     
    Tuesday, March 3rd 2009
     
    Fifteen minutes before first period ended, I get a call to go to the main office.
     
    Sean warns me. The main office is the Principal's territory. No good news will come from it.
     
    I knew that. After what happened Friday...
     
    I get down there, and roll my eyes the moment I see our Friendly Law Enforcer, Officer Pain-In-My- through the office windows. I hoped this wasn't about Friday... again.
     
    Walk in, am introduced to the Principal's office, where four people at a round table sat waiting, and one empty chair waiting for me.
     
    I take a seat and the discussion begins.
     
    After realizing my existence on Friday, the Principal was informed by my grade office principal that my grades weren't good enough to be in this play. They let me perform on Friday and Saturday because they heard the news that day and there wasn't enough time to replace my role. I received four F's last semester, but my midterm grades were great. Even then, though I am showing improvement, I cannot be allowed to be in it.
     
    There went everything.
     
    I lost my motivation in school that moment. Whatever got my progress up, that was gone. I don't like school. Who does? I stayed in school because I met these people. I lost the people I love since coming to this town, and I finally find people I can love. I find something that allows me to send a message to the community, to the world, and it has closer meaning to me than anything else I've found on stage. Being in that play made me drive for better grades. Made me drive to maybe make a career out of it. Be an actor on stage? Perform in theaters in Boston? Perform on Broadway? Perform on the road? Perform in a movie? Perform in a award-winning movie? Perform in an Oscar-winning movie? I always wanted a little golden man on a mantel in my living room.
     
    But most of what shot me in the heart was the fact I'll never be able to perform that play for my mother. Ever. Because they can't see the reason I went from failing four classes to one class is because they're looking at the person I was before I changed with this drive.
     
    The thought of it lights a fire in me. An angry fire. NOW I want to shoot somebody!
     
    I lost everything that drove me in the school, so did you think I cared what came out of my mouth? I kept my logic up as I insulted each one that played a role in this since Friday.
     
    "I got a cop outside the door that thinks the slightest twitch I make means I'll shoot up the school, a principal that thinks I'm obsessed with Columbine and Virgina Tech, a English teacher upstairs with selective memory as to what material he reads, a vice principal that didn't know a thing about me and tries to be my friend, a social worker that likes to put the exclamation point at the end of every sentence I speak, and this all rounds up together with me getting kicked off the one thing that's been driving me to do better in school, friends that'll believe I've betrayed them, still going to an English class being taught by someone with amnesia, and random psychiatric counseling sessions because you all think because I have a 'troubled past' which means I could possibly eventually pose a threat to this school! I don't have any problems in my life right now until you guys saw me and tried to fix a problem that wasn't there. Congratuations, you've made a problem. You got rid of my motivation, got rid of my social life, and gave me unnecessary counseling."
     
    They asked if I wanted to see the social worker. I told them the last person I wanted to see was him. They believed I wasn't in the right frame of mind to go to class and see the English teacher that started it all, and they were right. I would've started throwing words at him that would've left the man bruises. I would've lashed out harder and faster than I ever have had before. For all I knew, I would've punched the man in the jaw and simply walk out of the room as if nothing happened.
     
    They asked again if I wanted to see the social worker.
     
    "I don't want Mr. (social worker), I want my God!"
     
    Figured the only thing at the time that could give me any comfort was a Bible.
     
    They said they had to leave me with a trusted adult until they felt I was calm enough to go back to class. Fair enough. No one popped up in my head that was available, so I got...
     
    The accursed social worker!
     
    My vice principal was walked in with a Bible after spending fifteen minutes in SW's office. Spent the next hour trying to read various parts of it and commenting back on his questions. I couldn't get a peaceful moment out of it unless he walked out of the room to handle other business.
     
    Eventually I was able to calm down enough to prove to him I could go to class without having an incident.
     
    Walking down the hallway where most of the Drama Company gang hangs out isn't fun when they all know you're out of the show that means the world to you.
     
    Rachael grabbed me yet again and I vented to her what happened.
     
    After school, I went home and by force of the school because of Friday's incident and the Social Worker dude, I was brought to the freakin' psychiatric counseling. More venting. I rambled on and on about the day and how much Drama meant to me, and how it was gone. After a half hour, I got a slip again proving I'm sane and I I was to give this paper to SW.
     
    I left the building, headed over to the Dunkin' Donuts next to it, ate a Turkey-Bacon-Cheddar flat bread and a Diet Pepsi, and waited for my sister to drive me home.
     
    I got two or three hours of sleep that night.
     
    Wednesday, March 4th 2009
     
    I woke up feeling stranger. I felt lost, yet on a set path. My eyes burned with each glance at light. I knew today was to be a busy day. Had paperwork to hand out.
     
    I grabbed my shades and didn't bother shaving, and headed out the door.
     
    Once I got to school, I made a bee line through the drama kids and only stopped for one hug from Vanessa.
     
    I went on a hunt for the social worker. It took 15 minutes and I couldn't grab breakfast because of it, and I handed to paper of proof I went to the unnecessary counseling.
     
     
     
    After school I went to the rehearsal to watch the show for the first time offstage.
     
    I felt uneasily when my replacement went up on stage as my character. He doesn't have the happy loud-mouth father figure I wanted my character Luis to have. He's a great actor, one of the best we have, but I've worked on this character for three months... he had until March 14th.
     
    By the end of the play, I was in tears. Not because of the fact I wasn't onstage, but the message was sent to me rather than me helping to send the message.
     
    It felt so strange being on the other side of the theater...
     
    March 5th skipped to March 14th 2009, Drama Festival Semi-Final Round
     
    After a near-hour bus ride to Andover, Massachusetts, we get off and head into our assigned classroom, which is basically given to us to put in whatever personal crud we feel necessary to leave in there.
     
    I didn't have anything so I took the gallon of water they gave us and the tiny paper cups and had a shot row. I felt kind of dry.
     
    After watching six plays in a row including our play (Beyond Tolerance, ¡Bocón!, forgot the name of this one whoops, Tom Jones, History & Poetry, and Sakuntala), go to a 'dance' (it was horrible, the cafeteria had a glass wall thing, lighting the place with sunlight and we wanted something along the lines of a Under 18 Club? Me and about fifteen other actors/crew went outside and played extreme catch), we went back into the theater to attend the Award Ceremony.
     
    The Award Ceremony was full of tension in the air. It seemed all friendliness is gone. It's Finals or bust. Happily we got quite a few awards for our cast and crew, all of whom deserved it. The look on their faces when they were completely bewildered they got anything built up the happiness you had for them, mostly because it was entertaining to see.
     
    Though through each chosen actor and technical crew member that received an award, you got the build up of nervousness. Did our play pass? That school's play was amazing, and I wasn't watching me on stage. Oh boy...
     
    Finally.
     
    The time came.
     
    We held hands once again. I had a corner seat and had to cross my arms yet still reach my friend Harry behind me. Dang near start choking myself trying to hold it.
     
    "And in no particular order, the first play that will go on the Final Round of Festival is...
     
     
    ¡Bocón!"
     
    We leaped into the air. It was Hug Fest '09 from there.
     
    "And the second school to go with ¡Bocón! to the Final Round is...
     
    Sakuntala!"
     
    We got up and applauded Cambridge Rindge & Latin School onto passing Finals. The judges said good night and everyone went right back into the hug fest. The excitement and happiness we felt overwhelmed some to tears, but the ear-to-ear grin on my face was good enough.
     
    March 21st, 2009
     
    The last week, I was feeling cold.
     
    Not an emotional cold.
     
    Not a "I have a runny nose" cold.
     
    A "The very blood the run through my veins has been laced with icicles" cold.
     
    I was shivering. I wore multiple layers in weather that should only require a sweatshirt.
     
    The touch of anything remotely cold sent me shivers so strong you could hear the chatter of my teeth across a room. My sister and mom have noticed I ran light and high fevers throughout the week, and something wasn't right.
     
    I wore my thinsulate gloves, my heavy jacket and my sweatshirts just to feel comfortable as if in room temperature. At night, I bundled up on thick blankets whenever I went to bed, still shivering, and woke up in cold sweat.
     
    After serving my Saturday School detention, my sister picked me up.
     
    When my sister picks me up, there is always consequence. If she has to pick me up, there will be no such thing as going straight home, but instead a trip across the county of Middlesex, Massachusetts.
     
    I'm still bundled up in my sweatshirt and jacket, and holding even a can of soda that was in the freezer can make me feel like I'm naked in a blizzard. So when I go into the Liquor Store and buy a water bottle and Diet Pepsi, wait in car as my sister is getting fitted in a Bride's Maid's gown, I turn on the heater.
     
    When I was finally relaxed, she came back and turned off the heater, telling me it was too hot. The moment she rolled down the windows and we were up and running, I started the shivering. After a while, she sympathized with my chills, turned on the heater to guard me from the cold wind of the window she kept down on her side.
     
    Suddenly, my vision changed. It was as if the sun was behind a cloud the entire time that bright day. The road lit up. It started growing shades of brightness and things became white. My nausea grew and I started taking deep breaths, thinking it would help (it didn't). I was demanding with what I could for her to pull over. She parked the car, I got out, and my stomach made it's final turn before I spilled.
     
    It was mostly water. I know you were curious.
     
    My sight was back, and some people stared in the Walgreen's parking lot.
     
    I honestly thought we were on a highway, not in-town. My vision at the time didn't help.
     
    After calming down and my sister calling my mom as she went inside Walgreens to buy me Ginger Ale and Chicken Noodle Soup as directed, we decided to wait for my dad. After all, he lived in the town and he was the closest responible one who knew what do to (mom went on a Church retreat). After some discussion with him, we figured we let me off at home and see how the day went out.
     
    Three or four hours later and a few Advils, I felt good enough to go out with my dad for dinner.
     
    I felt as if I just woke up from bed, and dragged my feet as we walked in the mall. The dinner was simply half a glass of water, an untouched glass of Diet Pepsi, and Calm Chowder (my favorite).
     
    When we walked back to the car, I felt nausea again, but it ended up with nothing.
     
    I go home, go to sleep, and hope Sunday will tell me the sickness is gone.
     
    March 22nd, 2009
     
    It was 3AM when my sister woke me up. She said I was going to the emergency room because as she came in to check up on me, my fever each time was a different temp, all hot.
     
    Now, I hate hospitals. I hate the ER. Not because of personal reasons, but financial reasons. We have no health insurance, and keeping my health is a priority for me sometimes, simply so I don't have to give my parents this bill to worry about.
     
    But what can I do when I have orders from both mom and dad?
     
     
     
    In the ER, they draw a vile of blood and test that for... something. I get the usual round of questions sent at me, and with Advil PM in my system, caring is hard enough.
     
    An X-Ray showed I had a beginning stage of pneumonia and was told the most likely reason of my misery was probably Mononucleosis. The doctor said she felt 99% sure, but I needed a Mono Spot Test to confirm. I'm prescribed a 5-day antibiotic medication for the pneumonia and we were off by the crack of dawn.
     
    March 24th, 2009
     
    I see my actual doctor, the pediatrician who been taking care of me since I tiny enough to punt. At that point, I felt much better. Headaches and fevers don't come and go, and I feel at 100%. He checks all the symptoms one should have for Mono and cleared that I had another infection and the antibiotics I took for the pneumonia took care of both.
     
    What a relief.
     
    March 26th, 2009
     
    The first day of Finals. Not much to say other than the John Hancock Theater needs Pepsi.
     
    The excitement of Finals is brought up to a point where making friends with other schools seems easier. It was without tension, but no one can be sure there won't be any once the Final Award Ceremony begins.
     
    Unfortunately, I'm not in the play.
     
    But look, I'm still with the people I love. I have them, I have my grades up, and I have my self-respect. I have who I am, and it is who I want to be. Life isn't easy, I still have my pressures, sure, but who doesn't? Not like tomorrow I won't face another batch, and then another. It's my life, and though I write it down in this blog, I'm not complaining. I want these memories. I hate when I come to this chair and type things I have vague memory of, so what I have now is what I am. These are my memoirs, my journal, my biography, and my portal into deep thought of my own reality.
     
    And I wouldn't trade my memories for the world.
     
     
     
     

    Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. 
    Try again. Fail again.
     
    Fail better.
     

    -Samuel Beckett 
     
     
    ~AA
  8. Arch-Angel
    The passed few days have been the definition of a hollow week.
     
    Yes, I just made that term up. It speaks for itself. Use it.
     
    I, as usual, think, go to school, temporarily go into a coma, make myself look like the the kind of guy you look forward to seeing in class and never hearing from again, come home, talk, and continue my day gaining body fat as I drink a fresh bottle of Diet Pepsi which I miraculously was able to obtain.
     
    A social life.
     
    I wish I could have a social life again!
     
    For any of you out there hating the fact you live in a small town, love it. Because everything is so close, no friend is too far, and if you got the money, the local restaurant is one of your favorite hang-outs.
     
    In bigger towns, they'll ask you five minutes within the first conversation, "You smoke?"
     
    To which I reply, "Nah man. Straight edge."
     
    "Oh."
     
    Social life in big new town (I've technically grew up in as a kid), ciao.
     
    Seriously now, its the saddest thing that for the past 90 years, destroying your body is the most fun a teen can have. I might as well put a .357 on the side on my temple a pull the trigger or learning how to fly off my apartment building's roof (the key is to throw yourself at the ground and miss apparently...). Accept with alcohol, marijuana and everything else in between, its a much slower process.
     
    I had a research paper to do on alcohol (who said I did it?) and I was surprised and happy to know the truth about alcohol's effects on the body. It's literally a poison people.
     
    But I heard plenty of stories... the one that stuck out was at a party, girl passed out and threw up, so they stripped her down and throw her in the shower when the true fact is THEY SHOULD HAVE SEEK MEDICAL FREAKIN' EMERGENCY.
     
    These aren't myths. Truth sucks, thats why we have lies.
     
    I have to say, I'm glad I sacrificed my social life to stay straight edge.
     
     
     
     
    For the past two days, I've been strongly tempted and attempted to kick two certain classmates right in the jaw.
     
    Yes, I was planning to do it. The past two days.
     
    Jeremie believes that I can't kick up to his height.
     
    So I told him to step back and brought my foot to where his jaw was. He said that was up to his chest.
     
    But then again, it wasn't the karate kick I've been practicing with. Roundhouses aren't really my cup of ###-whoopingtea.
     
    What Jeremie and his gorilla amigo Jack do now are 'love taps'. Where they slap me in the butt as if we've been friends playing sports since preschool. First of all, I hardly know the guy. He and Jack have no right to do that to me. I don't know after our talk he'll actually take me seriously, but if he doesn't, like those love taps I'm gonna take a shot at one of their jaws when they least expect it. I don't care if they're being friendly after the love tap, I'm gonna introduce him to some size 10 and a half Reebok plus one foot attached to a Brazilian leg.
     
    And if you know Brazilians, you know our kicks.
     

     
    ~AA
  9. Arch-Angel

    More.

    By Arch-Angel,

    A math teacher in my school that passed away yesterday morning. Needless to say, this brought back bad memories and more sorrow.
     
    ~AA
  10. Arch-Angel
    I missed school today for the sole purpose of going to the doc's office.
     
    Painful ten minutes... then I find out I'm going to have to meet up with a Doctor Kennings, a surgical doctor, to check up on my condition at 1 PM this Friday.
     
    Do you know how my grades are?
     
    I appreciate my education. I love learning. I especially History class. How everything happened that made our world what it horribly is today. The class in general of Geometry is loads of fun and entertainment (not to mention I wanna play Craps again). English class provides Mr. McNeill's point of view on the world where he can make sense of a lot of things and add a good mix of seriousness and sarcasm/dry humor in between (even if he can harshly insult, which I blew off him calling me a 'da(ng) fool' the other day because I didn't do my rough draft of the research paper) And Lifetime Activities (which is basically gym only playing games you'll never play in life much if at all again) where we're doing softball. And I love baseball... D=
     
    Health class is never missed.
     
    Neither is Bio...
     
    Anyways, missing school tomorrow too. I can't sit down without pain. Its an infection on my tail bone, I'm not gonna get into details. <<
     
    I get myself a Diet Pepsi, drive around a bit with sis, and come home, play some Mancala with her, which we found is a great game to spend time together because we use to play it when we were younger.
     
    We spent plenty of time home and then came the time to grab some take-out because their's no food to make at home. I convince my sister to get Pizza Hut, and as we wait, we talk to the manager there (who's at the desk) and get into conversation with him. Tony, the manager, tells us about his break-up with his girlfriend and how he's gonna make her life miserable after she breaks up with him only because I got a new job here at the Hut of Fattening Cheese and Sauce (plus stuffed crust!).
     
    He's got it all planned out... quite amazing...
     
    Sister thinks he's lying though... whatever.
     
    During the end of his story, girl and her mother walk in. I already see the girl got revealing clothes, but I keep my eyes away from checking her out. I demanded my male hormones not to look at her that way. Why?
     
    I always have Bionigirl on my mind.
     
    I hope she's one of those four guests that are usually hanging around in this blog... I really do...
     
    Karley, always remember, I love you.
     
    Peace out BZP...
     
    ~AA
  11. Arch-Angel

    Awkward Heart Attack

    By Arch-Angel,

    Anyone else notice the Relient K and My Chemical Romance are exact opposites?
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    There's this girl I see often. Cute redhead, her name is Kat. She quite gorgeous, and was in my health class last year. I never talked to her for two reasons. At the time, I was in a relationship with Bionigirl, and the second was that she had her boyfriend Jack at her side 99 percent of the time, so I didn't bother so much as talking to her. Though I thought of her from time to time, wracked with worry as to what made her leave class crying in tears and Jack with a solemn expression. They didn't seem to break up, still sitting next to each other in health class. It was strange.
     
    This semester of school, I saw Jack at her side once, and that was the very beginning of school. I haven't seen them together since. I don't know if she's going out with anyone currently, considering it's become a thing where we simply say hi to each other in the hallways. I have no classes with her, and only cross paths with her once every other day.
     
    Nearly every boy around me talks about nothing except girls and hooking up with them simply because they're hot. I simply want nothing but a relationship with a girl I couldn't figure out. That's what attracts me to a girl, a girl I can't figure out. Quiet girls get me like that, smart girls get me like that, girls that actually bother giving their honest opinion after thought get me like that. Considering I never had an actual conversation with Kat, I don't know honestly truly know her, and to think the possibility of her having any personality I'm attracted to doesn't help my romantic side.
     
    Why can't I settle with loneliness? My lust is nothing but an annoyance- no, a curse.
     
    My romance? Well, it's a beaten path I don't want to go down. I still struggle with it, more than lust. I am a hopeless romantic, yes, but I never show it. I could only show a girl how romantic I'd be if I were in a relationship with them, but how do I show anyone at all otherwise (without looking like a fool)?
     
    Maybe I should learn to play the guitar, write songs, play once in a while. Written poetry is corny and unattractive, music is great. How many times have I heard a girl see my friend Sean with a guitar and talk about how it attractive it is? Not a bad idea.
     
    But at the same time, as much as I want a relationship, I want no feeling for a relationship. I've become a loner. People ask me what I am to put me into a category. I was asked at lunch by a girl walking up to me what I was. Clearly I was confused at first, but they explained that I wore preppy clothes but never socialize at lunch, I talk without any care of what others around me might think (the arrogant ######## ), but can still not come off like a horrible person, and I stay well kept (shaved face aside from common five o'clock shadow, washed hair, wear different clothing daily) and I read Twilight. I'm not a scrub apparently, but not a prep. I've lived in the ghetto, but I'm no G. Otherwise everyone sees me as just weird, but still can't categorize me.
     
    I must be aggravating.
     
    I guess the next time someone asks me what I am, I'll say Edward Cullen. Simply to come off as a smart###.
     
    ~AA
  12. Arch-Angel
    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     
    .:Sora:. really nailed it in the head with this one...
     
    This really was the beginning of my day until... I guess late.
     
    Lonely Day by System of a Down
     
    ~AA
  13. Arch-Angel
    Right now, there is some kind of stress in my life I never before faced (never being in this position) and I have a lot of worry over a few friends of mine. Right now, I'd like it to be between me, Taki, Tee, and Bionigirl. A lot of it has to do with the very fiber of my being, and a lot of mental thought must be placed for this. All I ask for is some prayer and maybe a few song suggestion to help ease the pain.
     
    Thanks guys.
     
    ~AA
  14. Arch-Angel
    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     
    I always liked this song from the beginning, because I remember this feeling so well.
     
    From the new album of Green Day's 21st Century Breakdown:
     
    Last Night On Earth by Green Day.
     
    ~AA
  15. Arch-Angel
    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     
    This song was brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Ranna.
     
    Talk about falsetto...
     
    This song is catchy the first... five times. Its a very good remix of its original with in the 1950s ran through kids minds and they sang the chorus regularly.
     
    Pretty sure Ranna was too, and I have to admit, so was I. *innocent shrug*
     
    Oooh eee oooh ah ah ting tang
    Walla walla bang bang
    Oooh eee oooh ah ah ting tang
    Walla walla bang bang...
     
    Witch Doctor (Remix) by Alvin and the Chipmunks
     
    ~AA
  16. Arch-Angel
    Many of you know (by many, I mean the few that read my blog) that I hate Tuesdays.
     
    I mean, HATE. Its my curse. Tuesday = Pain for me.
     
    But this Tuesday, Smackdown! and ECW are coing to Boston (nearly a year since they've been here) and I'm looking forward to being near the ring with my best friend.
     
    Of course, the whole being a Wrestling Fan thing would've never happened if it wasn't for my parents and the divorce, and the anger that flowed through my blood since, but I'm cool right now.
     
    I'll take pics of my sign and if I happen to see someone with a World Title Belt, I'll ask to borrow it for a few pics.
     
    Your WWE fan (And hopefully future WWE Superstar),
     

  17. Arch-Angel
    You remember the 'I Miss' entry I made on Monday. Well, I asked my mom to call him, see if he wanted to talk to me. He said he wasn't ready to talk to me, that he was still upset at what I said to him. My mom had mixed feelings herself, she wanted me to talk to my dad and apologize, and when she heard that from him, she was a bit ticked. The fact he was upset over that, when he's done so much more worse to us.
     
    I'm truly confused as to what to think.
     
    Just right now, my mom got the mail and with it, a letter from dad. She opened it as I watched, showing three checks. One of the 140 dollars he owed me (he had to borrow some money momentarily to settle some debt in his bank account), another one for 56 dollars being the money I earned last Monday (the day before the... you know... thing), and the Child Support check for 180 dollars.
     
    I feel like he's settling his debt to me and getting rid of me.
     
    I fear it'll be a month or more until I hear his voice again...
     
    ...Sometimes I wish I can forget about him.
     
    ~AA
  18. Arch-Angel

    The New Kid Burden

    By Arch-Angel,

    I missed school today for the simple reasons that one, my mom doesn't want to drive me to school because she's too tired, and two, I woke up at 7, an the bus leaves five minutes before that.
     
    But what I find as one of the most difficult tasks a new kid can have is this.
     
    Finding someplace to sit.
     
    Yes, I do have my fantasies that a table of cute girls call me and I'm back in business flirting, but thats never the case (unless I happen to model, which isn't likely either)
     
    Though there is this cute girl in my Geometry class that had a conversation with...
     
    Anyways, yesterday I sit at the table with the Brazilian(s) I recognize. It isn't easy. I have to wander around for 20 seconds looking like an cool dude with my eyes searching every table. But eventually I found one... too bad the table of Brazilian girls was full.
     
    Another thing, as much as I want to, I don't think it'll happen. I keep talking to Taki about this, I can't keep it out of my mind... I really want a Blog of the Week Award. But I might as well give up and just keep updating this thing.
     
    Over and out...
     

  19. Arch-Angel
    Many people from our old churches think that my dad left my mom because she's fat.
     
    My dad left my mom because a woman came along almost 15 years younger than him and convinced him that he wasn't in love with my mom (Apparently he left mom now and not sooner because we were born and wanted to wait until we were mature enough to handle it, whatever that means).
     
    My sister and I were talking about mom and how she might become a train wreck someday soon. In less than five years, my sister plans to move out. In five years, I'm going to be 21, so there isn't a doubt in my mind I'm bouncing out of this place too.
     
    So, no husband, no kids...
     
    Just an apartment, alone. No one to come home to. We can get grandma to live with her, but she could pass soon. That would destroy mom even more.
     
    We want her to date, but she's been too heartbroken since dad to try. She says she can't find a man because she's overweight, which shouldn't matter. Aren't the best men the ones that don't care for appearance (much)?

    Like me? BZP chicas, PM me.
     
    My sister told me of one time she went to the salon to get her nails done. The one doing her nails knew my mom and sister well as they were frequent customers. Next to her was a mom of a childhood friend of mine. They said hi, yada yada yada, then she asks, "How your mom?"
     
    Sis answers, "She good. She's doing great."
     
    The nail salonist goes, "Her mom is very pretty now."
     
    "Oh, she lost weight?"
     
    My sister couldn't believe what she said.
     
    "No, she looks the same," Answered my sister.
     
    "Oh, guess she hasn't woken up yet, ya know?"
     
     
     
     

     
    After mom had me, the doctor prescribed her medicine (I dunno why, but she needed it) and said the meds will either make her lose a lot of weight, or gain a lot. Obviously she gained. Since then she's been trying to lose the weight, shich is seemingly impossible. Diets, exercises, full time commitments!
     
    The weight stuck.
     
    Now, people think its the reason my dad left her. My dad lived with her like this for almost 15 years; he got used to it, though there was a point leading up to the break up he said that she wasn't taking good care of her body (moron).
     
    Just please people, being overweight and obese should matter to the naked eye. Appearance is important, but not something someone should shoot down. I mean, if you want to lose weight, go ahead. If you want to look good while being fat, then look good, while fat. Hey, even Sir Mix-A-Lot said he liked big butts, and he said he was telling the truth.
     
    Personality and mind is good, appearance?
     
    I seen too many people obsess over it, and they are the most stuck up group of people you shall ever meet.
     
    Don't judge a book by its cover, a computer by its monitor, a person by their color, age, speech, or body weight.
     
    ~AA
  20. Arch-Angel
    We went on the highway to get to work.
     
    Flashbacks of the seventh grade flew across my head.
     
    Fred was a freshman going into sophomore year. He was an immigrant, and went to my church. Friends with my sister, and always cared. I barely knew him. I just heard he was the one Christian Brazi that people loved because his smile never left his face. He always asked how your family was, whether he personally knew them or not.
     
    He would be 19 or 20 today.
     
    I believe it was May 29th, 2005... He was coming home from church in Boston inside his friend's Eclipse. His friend was tired, as it was 1 AM, and he needed someone to keep him company to talk to and keep him awake, otherwise he slept at the wheel. Fred, like the good friend he was, died a good friend keeping his friend company.
     
    The night before, rain poured down hard like it did today in Massachusetts. The Mass Pike was extremely wet, and the driver was young and didn't care if he was going 90 on a 75 mph zone.
     
    They hydroplaned into a light pole, which tipped over, killing Fred almost instantly.
     
    The next day, I cried for a death for the first time.
     
    Since then, I've tried to be Fred. I do what I can to put a smile on one's face and remain serious in the end. Some of my close friends think it'll be my downfall trying so hard, but Fred was able to do it, and he's my role model.
     
    The dark clouds and the cold drops of rain only suited me.
     
    In Memory of Fred
     
    1990 - 2005
     
    ~AA
  21. Arch-Angel

    Song Of The Day 9

    By Arch-Angel,

    This one is for no particular reason. Its a good beat, feel, and its pretty well-known to both genres it covers. Alt.Rock and Rap.
     
    How can this be? Fans have been a war about which side is better for almost a year now.
     
    Well, mi amigo, look closer. If you like the band, you'll like the son. And if you like the rapper, you'll like the song. If you hate the other, well, sorry. You're gonna like the song anyhow.
     
    Numb/Encore By Jay-Z and Linkin Park
     

  22. Arch-Angel

    Song Of The Day 75

    By Arch-Angel,

    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     

     
    One of the coolest, yet somehow peaceful sounding songs I've heard from a remix DJ(?). The lyrics have been questioned as to accuracy, since because of the high and low notes used it the super use of auto-tune, it's really hard to understand the lyrics.
     
    Regardless.
     
    ArchAngel by Burial
     
    ~AA
  23. Arch-Angel
    The following is a Order of the Four Members of the Government of Party-Poopers.
     
    Four Members of the Government of Party-Poopers: *In unison* In everyone's blog, they say the term 'Merry Christmas'. You should not say this. We do not want to offend the people that do not celebrate this holiday. By order of the Four Members of the Government of Party-Poopers, we demand, not suggest, that you use this term from now until end times.
     
    'Have a Happy Non-Denominational Politically Correct Government Approved Religiously Indifferent Holiday Season.'
     
    Arch-Angel: *Come in* Hey!
     
    The Four Members: OMG!!1!!
     
    Arch-Angel: *Superkicks Member One*
     
    Arch-Angel: *Superkicks Member Two*
     
    Arch-Angel: *Sees that Member Three is preparing for AA's Superkick* Heh. *Slaps Member Three across the face*
     
    Member Three: Hey!
     
    Arch-Angel: *Superkicks Member Three*
     
    Member Four: You won't get away with this! :angry:
     
    Arch-Angel: Wanna bet?
     
    Member Four: *Pulls out wallet* I got 50 bucks saying that you won't!
     
    Arch-Angel: *Superkicks Member Four* Gambling is a sin!
     
    *Before walking out, Arch-Angel turns around and take the 50 bucks in Member Four's Wallet*
     
    Arch-Angel: I'll pay you back later...
     
    *end credits goes up screen*
     
    *Background shows Arch-Angel under a a fallen Christmas tree with a dead cat and a knocked-out Santa at his side*
     
    Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree...
    Why have you fallen on top of me?
    You scared the dog,
    You killed the cat,
    You hit the fatty in the funny hat.
    Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree...
    Why have you fallen on top of me?
     
    Merry Christmas everyone.
     

  24. Arch-Angel
    In Greek Mythology, Achilles was a Greek Hero of the Trojan War, and was immortal or something, and died when shot with an arrow through his heel, they only part of his body not immortal. And then he died.
     
    Well, my left knee hurts. Forgot my knee wrap at home, so now I have an Ace Banage around it, which isn't taking away from the pain. It feels like... burning? In the inside of my knee. I can't really describe it.
     
    In other news...
     
    The roads in Mass. are slippery. By slippery, I mean I hope you know how to freakin' skate. I fell on my butt trying to get to the bus stop, having to walk on tire trials that had sand on them it have some kind of traction. May I also mention that the morning commute is getting served. The icy roads have caused pile-ups and accidents all over. Heck, there are 12-15 accidents on North 93!
     
    Omi must be having fun... can't wait for his entry on today...
     
    Wonder if goes something like this.
     

     
    ~AA
  25. Arch-Angel

    Song Of The Day 23

    By Arch-Angel,

    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     
    You actually thought I'd forget this?
     
    Today's song goes out to my mom and myself. It a song of celebration to us. The bad memories brought by my dad and our love/hate for him drives us crazy, but this song describes the day we are waiting for it. It may be years before it comes, but I'll probably be listening to this when the comes.
     
    I never thought I'd doubt him, but I'm better off without him.
     
    Over You by Daughtry.
     
    ~AA
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