Shit Sucks Then You Die

Basically nothing is going right. I haven't gotten into college unlike everyone else. The sister is home. That sucks. What will be known as the "College Intervention" really made me feel like shit. As if it was supposed to make me feel better. Also, Georgia never blogs anymore. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I'm the lone wolf on a path to no where. If someone could give me a road map to my future that would be awesome. thanks.

WE MADE IT TO 100 POSTS

fuck yes ladies and germs, we made it to 100 posts.

You know that feeling when you are so comfortable with someone you can sing in front of them, badly in the car? Oh and the feeling gets even better when they tell you that you are good? I just needed to brag that I hit that landmine. Yay me.

Midnight in the Morgue

It smells like death. It's dark. I feel like i have been here before but I'm not quite sure. The place is mostly used storage. My boyfriend works in the Fridge. That's what we call it, in the back of the morgue where they put the bodies in cold drawers. I hang out with him after hours. the whole death thing doesn't bother us. Sometimes we open the drawers and look at all the serene faces. The people just look fake. It's weird being the only one alive in a crowd.

It must be weird to switch religions daily. One day Catholic, the next day non denominational. Funeral homes are so ironic when you think about them. First of all, they are not really homes. Second of all they dress up dead people to look "alive". They look like manikins to me. Fucked up manikins. "When I die just bury my as I am. On the top of a hill." He looked up from his news paper. "Ok." Back to the sports section. He didn't like to get too philosophical. He said it made him depressed. I looked at him for a second and asked if he wanted a cigarette. Again he just looked up, "No thanks." Back down, reading.

I never thought my life would come to this. Funeral Home at 2 AM, inhale, exhale. Rings float up and disappear. The funeral home is up by the mountains. Weird shit happens in mountains. A guy on a horse just rode by. The first thing that came to mind was "Do you think this guy is a pedophile?". Dropped the end, made a wish, put it out. I make a wish every time I put a cigarette out. Weird habits keep your character alive. I turned to go back inside, walked into a massive spider web. I'm an arachniphobe. Sobbing and hyperventilating i made it back into his office. He was still reading the paper. The paper went down and he got up. I walked up to him and collapsed into his arms.

The next day, he walked me to the car. It was about 9 AM. His shift was over.

"Do you want me to drive you back home?" He looked at me for a good ten seconds, searching for an answer. He finally said "No, I'm going to walk." I pulled out of the parking lot. My back hurt from sleeping on the cot in the middle of the room. He just finished reading the paper when I crashed on the make shift bed. I remember him saying goodnight. He doesn't talk much and I thought it was sweet, almost an "I love you" in a weird way.

Driving home took a long 5 minutes. I turned the radio on. "NO I AM NOT LOOKING FOR A DIVORCE LAWYER!" I turned it off. I parked in the driveway, locked the doors and went in. Just how I left it. "Hey house". I turned on the TV. Flipped the channels. Nothing worth wasting my time on. I moved from room to room almost gracefully, then turned on the shower. I undressed and got in. The front door opened. I paused. Turned the shower off. "Hello?"

"Hey!"

"Give me a second. I'll be right out..."

"Oh you don't need to rush I just wanted to shovel your food in my face."

"God damn it. Why did I give you a key?"

"Fuck you. You need to go to the Trader Joe's down the block, get some real food."

"Not all of us are living off our parent's inheritance..."

"It's a hard job."

Friends?

I thought I could be friends with the past. It worked for a little while I guess. Still, it was nothing special. We talked almost everyday, the past and I. We laughed like we used to. It felt ok. Everything is all fun and games until someone starts thinking too much. I'm a genuine party pooper. The paranoia took over my brain for a good two days. It wasn't even paranoia, I don't even know how to describe it. (how can you be paranoid about something that already happened?) It was weird.

End of the story, I abandoned ship. I hope I made the "right" decision...

what happens when you google google??

This happens. You get slutty pictures of a search engine. That's what happens when you google anything. Slutty pictures and ugly people. Sad. I have writer's block. It's kind of a big deal to be living with this sickness for too long. I feel fried, totally and completely brain dead. I guess that's what shit does to you.

The Lost Paper

I lost you when you went back home. I remember watching you walk down the street, away from me. It was already dark and i got one too many bug bites on each leg. I remember that much. You said something like "if I don't leave, then I cant come back." Somehow I feel like you lied or you were never there to start. I probably imagine our friendship more than anything. Maybe I made you up too.

You said you cared about me and you said all the things that anyone would want to hear. In the end, you make me really really sad. Atleast I'm happy for a good 20 minutes when you come around.. Or atleast until the high wears off.

In short, I always wanted more out of our friendship. Nothing crazy or intimate, mostly just a phone call or a "hey happy birthday!" text. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish we were friends.

Who's That WOMAN?!

hello bloggees.
Both members of the garden are present, aren't we George?
That's right Georgia! we are here today, researching LETHAL LADIES~
Such as Lucrezia Borgia and Elizabeth Bathory. I like the idea of becoming one of these women in the near future.
Good thing i'm not a virgin. STOP FARTING!
Ladies and gentlemen, the chair is farting, not I.
Georgia, why don't you tell these fine readers what Elizabeth Bathory is famous for?
She was one of the most beautiful women in the world. She was terrified of aging, and killed 650 beautiful virgins to get their blood and bathe in it in the hopes of gaining youth.
Fantastic, thanks Georgia.

i made two new friends. one of them i knew from my "previous life". our vibes somehow mixed and now we are tight. they have a different lifestyle that makes them the happiest people on earth. they chose to be homeless. they go where ever, whenever, and come back in the same way. my description of them doesnt nearly do them justice. (i make them sound weird..)

thats about it. i feel good, georgia is good, we all good in da hood. yo.

people

its funny how much people change in 3 years. this picture was taken when i was a sophomore, just a wee tot in the long view. i sure as hell wouldnt have worn these pants when i was in 8th grade and a mere 2 years later and BAM there they are. people are interesting, ever changing, creatures. i love LOVE that aspect of human kind even though it can be annoying.

Change isnt always good.. sometimes its scary. As much as people themselves change, they hate change when it happens. I personally hate when certain things decide to become different. for example, when my conditioner happens to magically change directions and go in my parents' bathroom. (if someone could explain this phenomenon i would be impressed and forever grateful.) it pisses me off then things dont go the way i want them to. it absolutely infuriates me when people cut me off on the freeway or dont stop at stop signs. Why? because thats how things are supposidly supposed to happen. i guess what i'm really getting at is that there really arent any definite ways to the world. we follow stop signs and signals because we have been told to. (and we dont want to dent our cars) we are creatures of habit and really, thats ok.

I did it. This little ficus is all aloneeee. Player's gotta play. Basically 3 years later and it got ugly. Apparently my age made the MR. uncomfortable. Because you know, my age dramatically changed when I got braces. I went from 17, to 12 in a matter of hours. What ever ladies and gents. I'm not angry, not really that upset anymore. I'm more...I think the correct term would be, "back on top". (no pun intended)

if anyone can find the man in the batman suit, (lack there of) i will give a mighty fine reward and go roller skating... naked. the search is on my friends.

stay thirsty,

George Ficus

T-5 days

Hey lovers-

It was a very hot day. I accompanied a friend to LaSalle today. They start school tomorrow and today was their freshman orientation...all I can say is that I'm glad I don't go to LaSalle.

Everything is going well. I'm almost done with my summer reading, Alverno has new desks and I have a selection of photos for my locker. I've decided that the theme should be black divas. Not bad, right? Senior year hasn't even started yet, but it sure does look promising. The mister and I have two classes together. Office Aide and Creative Writing, maybe the two best classes ever. As office aides, we take our job very seriously, but I want to photocopy pictures of us on homework.

The "nice" guy I met at the scary high school party is still nice. XXX is his name now. He's teaching me to drive, but he doesn't have a license.

I ordered my senior pictures. They're coming in three weeks. The countdown begins...

I am etc.,

Georgia

i tried to blog and it wouldnt let me.

"i'm a photo journalist."

photo 1. because everyone loves spandex

photo 2. because everyone loves an angry tourist

photo 3. what the fuck am i looking at? YOU

i typed in creepers in google images. apparently it is a type of show. "so ugly yet so cute."

i recently went to scandinavia. (it isnt one country it is a region in europe you dumb fucks) it was marvelous. a week after i got back, some extremist decided to massacre 84ish people. rest in peace peeps... terrorists suck. to be more specific i went to denmark, sweden, norway, russia, latvia, finland, and lets not forget Amsterdam, Holland. if any of you get to go to the baltics, please go to russia. it was my favy just fyi.

things are going extremely well right now for sea life. butters is in peru helping the orphans. (show me the orphans!) georgia is...doing georgia stuff and thats always a plus. dyke is..being dykey. (keep up the good work!) the little one is off the radar so, i guess that means shes doing well too. as for myself, i fell off a pony today and didnt land on my head so.. PROPS TO THE GEORGEY MAN!

The Summer Wind is Blowin' too fast

Hey motherfuckers-

So, George and I apologize for not blogging more often. The summer is quite stressful with all the sitting around and tanning and eating popsicles. The mister and I are taking our senior photos tomorrow, so I will tell him to blog. But for right now, I'll fill you in on what's been going on with the lady of the garden.

Since my last blog, I got the results of my two AP tests and SAT. I did well on all three.

Now for some more interesting news...

My boss and the owner of Poo Bah record shop in Pasadena are best friends since we made Mr. Poo Bah Grand Marshal of the Doo Dah Parade. I also have become quite outstanding friends with him and have become the unofficial shop girl of Poo Bah. Anyway, my boss and Mr. Poo Bah had the brilliant idea to have a radio show out of the shop every week. It's official name is Tom's Martini Hour with Red Rosie (that's me). Our first show was last thursday and many people listened to us talk for 2 and 1/2 hours, two of which were Butters and Dyke. Thanks, ladies. We will be moving the show to sundays at 6, so please do go to poobah.com and listen to me talk.

You know you want to.

Last week, I went to my first high school party. Finally. It's not the first party I've ever been to while in high school, of course, but it's the first party I had to pay to get into. Most everyone there was high/drunk/slutty, so I didn't fit in. I met the only "nice" guy in the joint and now we are friendly.

At work, we are planning an erotic literature festival. It's going down in October, so write it in your palm pilot.

I've got to get my beauty sleep. We'll post photos of the photoshoot tomorrow.

I am etc.,

Georgia.

Georgia takes the SAT

George wrote about his experience with the SAT, so I thought it was appropirate to tell my point of view.

So I got up twenty minutes before Dyke Ficus was going to pick me up. I got dressed with my Doo Dah Parade shirt and was ready to go. I plopped into Dyke's car and jetted away. We got to Monrovia High School and went through the wrong door, so we cut in line and were almost at the front. I was in a seperate room than Dyke and Butters because my actual last name starts with an "S." I waltzed into the room which was already half full. No one was talking! I thought I was on Marz. So, we started the test instructions and people kept coming in late. At first it was funny, then it wasn't. We started taking the actual test and it wasn't as bad as I thought. This one girl across from me kept petting her hair like an animal or something. Like it was her special kitten. I thought it was almost over at 11:30, but I was WRONG. We got released from the pen at 12:48 and thank the lord Jesus we did. If I had been in there a second longer, I would have melted. The SAT was not has bad as I thought it would be, but it was too long. I wouldn't have hated taking it again, but I'd rather not. Actually, in a way, it's therapeutic. All those bubbles, the one, whiny asian bitch who kept complaing about the heat, the random sneezes. It all was like one, giant coma. And, like waking up from a coma, I had to pee like Seabiscuit.
AND I DID.

The SAT, from my perspective

I woke up a good hour early. I sharpened pencils in the dark, put in new batteries in my TI89 calculator. I then proceeded to eat my multi grain cheerios. My dad drove me to the highschool down the street where I was to await and conquer my doom. The rooms were posted on the front window of the Main Office. I hugged my dad as if I were never going to see him again or as if I was going to leave the campus 3 and a half hours later, a changed woman. I did.
The actual SAT is all fun and games until someone forgets a calculator. I didn't. There were BOYS in a CLASSROOM with GIRLS in it. That was strange and I think as far as classrooms go, I prefer them to be lesbian. Wannabe men AKA teenage boy smells awkward and they sound like car engines. At anyrate the test was about to start and some dumbass forgot a calculator. The proctors found one for him and then another boy decided to announce he forgot one too. Little did he know he was just further proving that teenage male is a no go as far as evolution goes. We finished 3 sections, then 4, then 5, then 8, then 10. Then I went to the barn and wanted to shoot myself in the brain. I didn't even have to because it already exploded.

moral of the story: don't have kids so they don't have to take the SAT ever.

-George

SWAG

HELLO LOVERBEARS

This bitch is back. I'm queen for another 360-ish days, but I'll stop talking about it now.

Tomorrow is a Cinco de Mayo party at the Castle Green. Skittles is taking me. I am excited to sit in he car. I also get to see her chatterday for an art show in LA.

Shasta, Haylee and George poked and punched me yesterday until I farted.
But I didn't fat.
I clenched.

I am etc.,
Georgia.

The Past Three Days

Promenade was amazing. Doodah was spectacular. The only thing that sucked was when Man Ficus had to leave. I ate 6-12 mini snickers (not fun sized) and home made brownies.

KATV Class

This is time to let it out.

FUCK BITCHES AND HOES