Ah, so it's one of 'those' days.

Seems to be. You know, those days when the world is rather insufferable, and everyone in it is wishing for your demise? Goodness, I hate these days. I've been having one. Well, actually, one of those weekends. I may as well jump into my rant before I'm pulled away to clean some other obscure portion of the house that my mother doesn't feel like looking after.

Saturday began with my mother pounding down my door, which I had neglected to unlock, the night before. I was insanely tired, but I don't know why, because I think I went to bed around eleven the night before. She wanted to see Thomas Jefferson's house. That's fine, but it's a three hour drive from where I live, and I feel obligated to tell you that it is not worth it at all. It took me about an hour to get dressed, put my contacts in, and find my shoes, which is about average, and then we were off. Not without the minor complications of my clothing being, as it would seem, unfit for the occasion. What exactly about an old nightgown over jeans is so wrong?! My mother gave it to me, she shouldn't have expected that I wouldn't have worn it. After a little verbal sparring, I went up and changed again. Then we left. We arrived around one, spent some time walking around the grounds in the ninety degree weather. I was really kicking myself for wearing two layers, long sleeves, and black jeans at that point. With all respect to Jefferson, the guy was a serious hypocrite. He thought slavery was wrong, but he had over two hundred slaves working at his farm. He freed less than ten of them in his will. My parents, of course, got sort of angry when I criticized him, because people in wigs who write important documents can do no wrong in their eyes.

When we got home, around nine at night, I fought with my online instant messenging client for a while - I shall not be revealing its name to the world, lest anyone get the crazy idea to use it - gave up and used AIM Express. I'm still using it. It doesn't work at all, it goes down every five seconds, and it doesn't let the user customize fonts or anything. Plus, navigating through the buddy list and such is near impossible once one's got a message open. I don't recommend it, at all. I went to bed around one, since I had a pretty nasty stomach ache. I couldn't sit up, couldn't even breathe, for a while. I got over it by three or so and fell asleep. The night wasn't bad after I got upstairs and sorted things out with the internet. There was a three hour window that I rather enjoyed. I messed around on google, ate stale chips, and listened to my parents' discs from twenty years ago.

This morning, I made the mistake of opening my eyes when my mother came into my room, instead of pretending that I was still comatose. I somewhat dread church, for no particular reason. Once I get there, I'm fine. But it feels like such a sacrifice. I know, that's sort of the idea of religion in general. I'm horrid for thinking this way. But I really do wish it was later in the day, or on another day. Church on Thursday would be grand, for example. The sermon today was about not just taking joy from petty, temporary things, which felt like a personalized guilt trip. That's pretty much my strategy for life. After church, I dragged my parents to a beauty supply store so I could get myself some new dye. Despite numerous warnings on the packaging, I purchased it without getting a degree in... hair doing first. Two bottles were only thirteen dollars! I had enough money to pay, for once. This improved my day a little. I've spent most of the afternoon, so far, fighting with my mother over nothing at all, playing piano, wondering why I have this stomach ache of mine, and messing around on the internet. My favorite pastime, in case you haven't noticed. I have to babysit for my parents' small group tonight. I am not looking forward to it at all, namely because I only get six dollars for the whole mess, since some of the kids stopped attending, and it is the most boring thing in the world. Seriously, I cannot imagine a worse way to spend my Sunday evening. Well, actually, I can, but none of them are particularly reasonable.

Oh, before I forget to mention this, I've stumbled upon a life goal. So far, I don't really have any goals, not concrete ones. But it's never too late to start coming up with these things, right? Before you're dead, at any rate. But, sometime in my life, I feel I simply must see the movie, 'Poison Ivy'. I found the synopsis and some reviews, a couple of days ago. I don't know if it's because I'm suffering from ACC withdrawl or what, but I've found myself in some of the darkest corners of the internet, lately. This morning, I was reading The National Enquirer's website, of all things. I know I cannot believe anything they publish, but, darn it, it's interesting. If Adam really does have a twenty four year old boyfriend, well, I congratulate him, but couldn't he have at least picked someone marginally cute? ...I digress though, of course. It sounds like one of the most unusual movies ever made, people have described it as a 'psychological thriller' and it was made in the nineties, so that pretty much qualifies it as a must - see movie. I'd go and rent it right now, but it's rated R and my parents would flip out if they knew I'd even read the summary. Tragically. Perhaps it's leaked on the internet somewhere, or something. That'll be one life goal completed and out of the way.

Music has been nothing remarkable, lately. I had my iPod on shuffle all day yesterday, which meant quite a lot of Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana. As well as some Pearl Jam. I think I forgot what a tremendous song 'Porch' is. I love Pearl Jam, so please understand that I don't mean to be disrespectful when I say that I think Eddie Vedder's voice used to be better. If you compare 'Alive' or 'Garden' to 'Severed Hand', for example. Eddie does a lot more forced yelling now, and a lot less actual singing. Especially during upbeat songs. It hasn't always been that way, he used to have a more soulful, steady sound. But maybe I'm over analyzing. Obviously, he's still good enough to sell records. Anywho, I was listening to my parents' Marty Casey disc last night and this morning. I've been listening to some Veruca Salt, a little bit of Mindless Self Indulgence, and Screaming Trees too. Sadly, I think my song addiction is over, almost before it started. Few can hope to rival the Bullet With Butterfly Wings obsession of last summer.

I think that's about all. School is going to be terribly boring tomorrow. Stressful, too. Finals and state testing, plus random assessments given to make our quarter totals look better, are working together to kill me. There is only two more weeks of graded work. I have to keep telling myself that.