Broadcasting live from the land of working internet!

Preston has been down for the past few days. Preston is my internet connection. He and Remi (the computer) have been fighting a lot lately. Remi and Preston fight a lot, not like Remi and Frederick (the child's very large fake gun), who are biffles. Anyway, the inanimate objects around me quarreling cause me to be stuck not blogging for a few days. They say Preston'll start working again soon, but I'm not sure when soon is.

Today I went to the library with the cousin. (Yes, the cousin. I know I have another cousin, but only Audrey-chan gets to be the cousin.) She was subjected to the Libby Shelf-Pull Experience, which should not be confused with the Libby Transvestite Experience. The Libby Shelf-Pull Experience is the method I use to get my ten-book-high stacks every time I enter a library. I go over to a random shelf and scan it, thinking things like "I like that author" or "I've been meaning to read that" or "That book has a funny title" or "Ooh, a penguin! I'm reading it!" Then I pull it off the shelf and add it to my pile. I shelf-pulled five books for the cousin, but then she told me that was enough. She also called me a bibliophile and a dork.

The cousin told me to start reading manga. I started it, though, so I shouldn't be complaining. Too bad. Complaining is practically my hobby. For the Japanese-impaired, manga is a backwards graphic novel with out-of-proportion people who have eyes that take up half their heads. When people put manga on a television screen and animate everything, it's called anime. Anime is watched; manga is read. There is a very clear distinction. However, if you watched someone reading manga, that would be anime.

She decided to start me on Fruits Basket because it has a.) a plot and b.) minimal violence. Those two things make it good to reccomend, I suppose. Maybe in manga-world. So far, the first volume hasn't given me anything other than a desire to make a list.

Things That Annoy Me About Fruits Basket Volume One, Pages 1-39.

• Yuki. I always thought Yuki was a girl's name, not a man's name. Also, there is one page where Yuki's eyes look faceted, kind of like a bug's eyes.
• The fact that the book is backwards. I have trouble reading it still, because my eyes actually travel from left to right, top to bottom when I read. They say that comes from reading English books.
• That's it, but I'm sure more things will pop up to bother me as soon as I pick it up again.

This keyboard is slowly driving me insane, and I'm hungry. Try to live for a few more days without my blog. I'm sure it'll be hard for you.

ttyl, infidelz~

"And we can cut off his feet, too! Just for fun!"

We did this project in English class--we were supposed to be doing it, but no one did--where we had to think up handicaps to stop people from doing what they were good at. You know, a la "Harrison Bergeron." Our class was apparently the most violent out of all the hours. Every other answer was something like, "We'll break both her legs permanently so she can't play soccer!" or this conversation, which took place in my group:

"We'll cut her fingers off!"

"Yeah! But what if she tries to write in blood on the walls?"

"Ew! Guys, that's nasty!"

"We'll put her in a room with waterproof walls!"

"La la la, I can't hear you!"

The worst one was definitely the group behind me, who I happened to hear discussing this:

"Oh, well, we can cut off his thumbs so he can't play video games."

"That's a good idea! And we can cut off his feet, too! Just for fun!"

If you give a group of eighth graders a topic, they will think of the most violent things to do with it. This is why I believe we should all read books and write responses on ponies and magical unicorns. How can anyone be violent with ponies and magical unicorns? ...Wait, don't answer that.

Today I wore my very dapper outfit to school in an effort to blend in with my comrades. Along the way, I learned that ties are a rainbow of fun! and that little brothers tend to say things like, "Libby, you look like a girl," just to annoy you. People kept asking the same question over and over: "Libby, why are you wearing a tie?" I came up with several different answers, but I only ended up using two.

"I'm on the men's basketball team now, didn't you know?"

"It's ironic."

"I'm having a gender identity crisis."

"It's a free country."

"What tie?"

People in general have trouble accepting a girl wearing a tie and mens dress shirt, even when those people are her comrades. Goshdarnit, my own comrades don't even accept me. I feel so unloved. Five or so different people did come up to me and tell me how much they loved my clothes, so that was pretty fabulous. I wasn't looking for recognition from all you cripples and random people, though. I was hoping that my own team would care about me. I actually even had a fight with Comrade Colin, during which he became convinced that I was racist.

Halfway through my first hour class, we realized that there was a bat hanging from the ceiling. It was so cute, but my classmates didn't agree. Well, a few of them did. Surprisingly, it was the girls who seemed to be the most grossed out by our furry little friend. My teacher spent a few minutes assuring us that it was nocturnal and wasn't going to attack us. Then he went down to the office and got the custodian to take it away.

Today's important topic: Vacuum cleaners. Vacuum cleaners help you clean, assuming you own a vacuum cleaner. If you don't own one, it's not going to help you. You'll have to clean your house with a broom or a Roomba™, and we all know how horrible that would be. The only problem I can see with vacuum cleaners is the amount of noise they make. It's very distracting to be half-asleep on the floor trying to do nothing and be rudely half-awakened by the sound of a vacuum cleaner turning on downstairs. Many a relaxed evening in my household has been ruined by a vacuum cleaner. Still, vacuum cleaners have one big thing going for them: their name. Vacuum. How fabulous is that? It's almost better than time-space continuum.

I should really practice the clarinet today...my band teacher even wrote down on my report card: Should practice more.  Pshaw, I say. Ought does not imply is. I read that in a book. I think it means that just because something probably should happen doesn't mean it's going to. Like my clarinet skills, which aren't going to improve much because I practice once a week. My band teacher also said I was a fabulous clarinetist (not in those words...) even though I don't practice.

After some deep meditating and stuff during class today, I realized that there is a major problem with life: We don't all look like anime characters. My life would be greatly improved if I had giant eyes, a line for a nose, and hair that stayed almost exactly the same no matter what I did. Flying Spaghetti Monster, up there in the sky, why didn't you make us all anime people when You touched us with Your noodly appendage?