Oh, by the way, yesterday was my 50th post.

Kyle here. Writing to write again. I think this writing..."journalizing," if you will, is going to come in handy now that I'm in AP English. We have to "journalize" a lot on our feelings on things. I obviously have feelings on things. I would think you'd pick that up, at least. Very deep, elaborate feelings usually. I've half decided that this blog is as much of a record to show myself where I've come from as it is to tell anyone else how I feel. I really could give two shits what anyone knows about me sometimes. Alex is the one that posts about the important and applicable news in life, anyway. If I were to do the same thing, it'd be kind of lame-o. So I only tell you the news that directly affects MY day. There were bombings on the Gaza Strip? The West Bank? Who knew? Alex did. Listen to him. He's a subscriber of mine and I'm not into hyperlinks like he is, so find him yourself. Too much effort for me, I'm a little too informal for that kind of fancy mumbo jumbo.

I haven't decided if this semester is going to be easier than the last one or not. I have chemistry gone forever now, so that's a plus, but I now have Trig and AP English. Now I'm not real worried about Trig because it's math and I don't give a shit about math work because it's easy for me (I'm just trying to warm up and remember where the fuck X and Y points go when graphing the less than/greater than/equal to shit). But I'm still going to have homework in math probably every day and some from English. Third block is such a joke, that the whole semester feels like one. Computer applications II. Do you know what I do in that class? This. I fucking read BSC and whatever Alex has posted and check punknews.org. Oh, and I fucking read stuff and write what it says on a computer. That's tough.

12 AM just rolled along, so it's officially the last day of the month. Remember how this month started for me? I do...I was laying on a couch with Katie feeling safer than I've ever felt before in my life. We'd just gotten finished watching P.S. I Love You. We were watching the ball drop while Hannah Fucking Montana was running her song into the last minute of the year interupting the countdown (though that fucking channel was doing a count UP). What could possibly go wrong at a time like that? We were happy and found no reason why we shouldn't be. No worries, no complications, 5 months guaranteed to be with each other and then a lifetime of uncertainty and mystery. That dream hasn't worked out. So this month has ended on a really bad note, but maybe it's a modulation and I don't understand why it's happening like this yet. So hopefully it will all make more sense when the next month pulls along. (If you don't understand music theory or what a modulation is, then that probably meant little to you.)

All of that is seemingly behind me now, though. Tim and I have decided to start a new band that is more "serious" than any band we've ever been in thus far. I mean serious in a literal term meaning that the lyrics and songs are more serious (at least more serious than I Forget or The Upstairs lyrics). Why? Well I've got a lot of emotions to express and Tim would like a band that doesn't fuck around a lot at rehearsals and we both want to try out some indie music. Oh, and I'll be singing and playing guitar/piano (still undecided) and we're recruiting Alex (another indie music fan) to play drums for us. Why do I need another band? I don't really. I love music, though. I need to express myself, too. Sorry little blog, but you can only take me so far.

Oh, I've almost forgotten to tell my blog readers (who probably all know this bit of information anyway), but after I got done bitching via a new blog yesterday, my cat shit on me. She kept walking across the keyboard as I was typing and I couldn't see what was going on, so I'd keep picking her up and putting her on the floor. Well after putting her down one time, I smelled something awful. It appeared to be coming from my hand, which I realized was a little bit wet. It was definitely coming from my hand, which smelled like death/ass/shit, but most accurately shit. The cat had squirt a liquidy shit when I picked it up and it had gotten on my hand, my mouse, and my mouse pad. What the fuck, right? That's what I proclaimed. So I had to wipe that shit up (literally), Germ-X my hands, mouse, and keyboard to death, and take a fucking bath. Great way to top off the day.

I have no idea what tomorrow holds or can hold. Hopefully I get with a friend and laugh the day away or something chill. I could sleep as I've taken up as a hobby recently. I do love sleeping. My dreams are a very nice haven.

Closing topic for the day....today (meaning Friday, not the 35 minutes of Saturday) was the Flamingo Day party at my mom's house. Kayleigh, my sister, came with her boyfriend Thomas. My aunt, my cousins, my grandma, my grandma's best friend, and my aunt and uncle in law (I guess that works) all came over. Here's what I don't like about holidays (especially when they're just made up): they're a day that's supposed to exist for celebration, relaxation, and entertainment. Well Flamingo Day preperation became just another stress-filled event that shouldn't have even happened. I know I'm not the invetor of that thought, but come on, mom. You're the one who made this holiday up, you should be the one enjoying it for everything you intended it to be. Granted, her kids (I being one of them) could have helped her out more, but who cares if the floor's a little dirty? If everything isn't in perfect order? You worked a long day at work, now come home and enjoy your made-up holiday. At least she had a lot more of an argument to be angry than my dad did the other night, but I've still not had the year that leaves me in a tolerable mood to listen to my parents bitch about something, especially when my positive actions aren't being considered (like me doing the dishes for her without her asking). So sleep well tonight, mom. You deserve it, but I hope you realize that holidays shouldn't be spent with all of the stress surrounding the actual celebration.

Oh, and thank you, to whoever reads this, for caring enough about me to actually read through all of this. I appreciate it a lot. If more people at least would listen and consider in the world, it would be a much more tolerant and happier place. Now let's hope that February kicks January's ass! Just one more day of January left and hopefully this nightmare will be over.

love,
Kyle