stuck in the snow

It's very cold

Monday, January 31, 2005

err...

So I'm sitting by the windows in the library room my parents spent all their money on, inspecting my toes because I have developed blisters for the first time in my life and I really don't know how to deal with them. Blisters are the strangest things ever, it's like some sort of cushion on your toe that hurts and looks really gross. My one toe looks like it has a deformity because the top of it is now bigger than my whole foot. At the same time as I am inspecting my toes I am also watching Father Ted, the hilarious antics of a catholic priest living on Craggy Island with three weirdos. So now I am inspecting my toes and laughing my arse off which is probably already a very odd sight, then add some ancient pajamas which include some very short shorts and I look like I'm visiting home from some sort of "special" institution. My deformed toe is such an interest to me a don't notice that someone is at the door. I just continue laughing on and decide to bring my foot right up to my face so I get a really good look of what's going on. My feet smell weird, too bad I don't have a foot cleaning machine. I mean they don't smell gross or anything but they do smell strange. Suddenly I look up to see a girl about my age waiting at the door, she was staring right at me. Oh my god! She saw me smelling my foot! She saw my giant deformed toe! She can probably see my underwear too because these shorts are so damn short! Why are these windows so big! I didn't know what to do so I just sunk lower and lower into the chair until she couldn't see me but I could see her. She looked sort of confused and she wandered away back into some car that was parked in my drive way and drove off. God, that was embarrassing. I wonder what she thought of me. Actually if I had seen her in that situation I would have thought Don't do that so close to the windows, I can see you too clearly and I don't want to see you smelling your foot because that's gross.

Friday, January 28, 2005

gotta RUN

Wow...I should really get to bed. It's 12:15 AM. The problem is I'm just not tired, it's the chemicals in my adolescent brain, not me, I swear I don't do crack. Although I am on runner's high after being on the treadmill for over an hour. Runner's high is the best thing, especially because it's not illegal. In my opinion runner's high trumps every other high. Well not that I have experienced any other high but it's fun and healthy, you don't get that very often do you? In fact, most things in life that are fun are also very unhealthy. Like doing drugs, eating candy and riding on roller coasters... The first and probably the last time I have ever tried pot was so disappointing, I was expecting to feel so happy and joyful but nothing much happened. I laughed a bit but I do that anyways. My friends both got high...or is it stoned? What ever. The point is I didn't find it that exciting. Not as exciting as runner's high anyway. My friends were both saying "I can't believe your high for the first time!" and I was saying "Uh, yeah whatever. Do you want to something else now? Like RUN?" I swear I am this close--- to becoming a compulsive exerciser but then that would make runner's high unhealthy instead of healthy. I am actually very close to becoming a compuslive exerciser, the signs are all there:
I HAVE to run.
I would choose my treadmill over some really hot male strippers.
Drugs just wont cut it.
I hug my treadmill every night.
I sometimes fantasize about running.
I find excuses to run, like "Quick, I have to pee!".
I went over to my friend Steph's house a while back after being on the treadmill and the whole time she was asking me for some of what ever I was taking and kept on asking me if I was high on something. I would just answer "I'm high on life Steph! The gift of life is all I need!" I eventually told her it was runner's high and with great disappointment she said "I don't get runner's high..." Well Duh! That's because you don't run!
Actually humans were born to run. The reason we have bums is to balance us so we don't topple forward when we are getting chased by a big lion. I guess it's good that I chose runner's high over something else, plus this means if I'm being chased I have a better chance of getting away because I will be thinking "If I run really fast for a really long time the dumbass who is chasing me will have a heart attack or something and I will lose them. That will make me happy. Then I will have my runner's high after that so then I will be really happy. The two combined will make me ecstatic with joy." Now I'm good at that kind of math.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Snow Fairy

snow fairy
You are like the snow fairy, she is very beautiful,
she has the power to make things beautiful, but
She is sometimes quite selfish, and spends most
of the time she should be using her magic
staring at her self in the mirror. Other than
the fact that she is vain and selfish. She is
a nice person, when she IS actually using her
magic, her powers are great, and she is very
helpful. Well that's most of the tings about
the snow fairy, can you relate to some of them?
You probably can, because that is what this
quiz is for!

**The ultimate Fairy quiz**(anime pics!) for girls, but if you are a guy you can take it too! !**being improved more**!
brought to you by

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Rehab

On Saturday me and my friend Monique made our way to our weekly boxersize class, we were supposed to be meeting Steph at the gym but we didn't see her there.
"I wonder where Steph is..." I said to Monique.
"O yah, I forgot to tell you, she called me and said she was too hungover to come." Monique and I exchanged knowing glances. Steph is always hungover, hungover a bit too much to be healthy.
"Steph is always hungover, and she is always stoned. We need to get her into rehab."
"Don't be stupid. Steph is fine, she doesn't do it that much." Monique told me.
"Yes she does! She's on something almost everyday." Which is true, as far as I know she goes to school stoned quite often and even horseback rides drunk or stoned or both, I'm surprised she hasn't fallen off her pony and snapped her neck in half.
One day, in about 20 years I'll be sitting in the back of my limo looking out on the streets of New York when I'll come accross this:

"Driver! Stop the car!" I'll get out of the limo then walk slowly towards my old highschool friend.
"Steph?"
"Rachel?" We will stare at each other in awe. One of us has climbed the corprate ladder and is now a multi-billionaire and the other never got to rehab in time to end her drug addiction and is now shivering on the cold, harsh streets of NYC. It's my fault! I could have sent her to rehab when we were just mere fifteen year olds and none of his would have happened! I will think. Guilt will overwhelm me and I will be forced to invite Steph into one of my multi-million dollar homes, get her cleaned up and send her to the most prestigious rehab centers in the world.
But alas, old habits break hard and Steph will end up going back and forth into rehab until I will finally have enough. I am a too compationate person to just leave someone to corrupt themselves so I will send Steph to live in rehab permantly, preferably somewhere that doesn't have any snow so she wont get too confused and think it is crack.

Friday, January 21, 2005

MOLEY MOLEY MOLEY

I am typing this as I contemplate my future...with a GIGANTIC MOLE on my face. I noticed it this morning but I didn't think much of it, maybe it was just a blemish, maybe a scratch...what ever I thought it was I dismissed it. Then suddenly, a few hours ago I noticed it again, but this time it looked less like a blemish or a scratch and more like a MOLE. A little tiny mole I might add, but a mole none the less.
I'll be one of those scary old ladies, that wonder around with her cats and scaring little kids with my icy stare and enormous hairy mole.
"Get out of my way you snotty little kids!" I will say.
"AAAAAAHHHHH It's a witch! She's going to turn us all into frogs!!!!!" the children will scream while running away.
I decided to tell my mom about my mole, "Rachel, I don't see anything, where is it?"
"There! On my lower left cheek!"
"Oooh, well if it was a mole you would have noticed starting" She said, trying to convince me it wasn't real.
"I'm noticing it starting right NOW!"
"Well it's a beauty mark, lots of people have beauty marks. Look at Elizabeth Taylor, she has all those diamonds."
"Elizabeth Taylor is famous and has diamonds because she has violet eyes! Not because of some MOLE." I explained to my mother.
"But lots of people want beauty marks, it's supposed to be attractive."
"I don't see how a huge MOLE is supposed to be attractive!" Since my mom didn't know what else to say she just sort of wondered away. But that is when I decided I will NOT live my life with a mole, I will get cosmetic surgery!
"Mom! If it is a mole can I get it removed?" I asked
"Yea, sure if you really want to. It might leave a scar though."
"No it won't, plastic surgery has gone very far since they day of scars, It removes scars now!"
Well why should I stop there? I've always wanted a nose job and collagen injections in my lips, "Mom?"
"Yes Rachel?"
"Can I get a righnoplasty and some collagen injections in my lips while I'm at it?"
"NO!"
"Kiera Knightly supposedly got lip enhancements, and look where they've got her!"
"Kiera Knightly's lips look like duck lips, you'll look like a duck!"
"I like the duck lip look!" I shot back.
"Rachel, you can get your mole removed but that's it!"
"What if I break my nose and I get a big lump on it, can I get a righnoplasty then?"
"Yes, but you haven't broken your nose so not now."
"Fine..."

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

I see my dreams as a chance to do things I will probably never do in my life, like meet S club 7, get nominated for an Academy Award or shoot somebody. But I had a very frightening dream last night. I was doing drugs, and not something like pot, I was going all the way with crack and LSD, which I've always wanted to try but never did because of well, common sense. The crack wasn't so great so nothing much happened, but I accidentally OD'd on the LSD...ummm something you probably don't want to do. From what I can remember from my dream I was first transported to a magical land where smells had sounds and sounds had colours and where there was lots of grass and bright pouffy things. I was absolutely mystified. After a while in lala land I was suddenly transported back to where ever I was doing drugs and there was a huge blue monster trying to eat me. I was screaming and screaming but no one came to help, and I felt more terrified then I have ever done in my whole intire life. I was desperately hiding behind things like couches and chairs but the monster kept on getting bigger and bigger and it kept on finding me. Everything in it's path became part of the blue monster until I was the only thing left. I let out one last scream until I passed out on the floor. Suddenly I woke up, still in my dream and thought Boy, am I stupid. I went and told my parents what had happened but they didn't care, because they were in lala land and were hearing roses like I had been a few hours ago.

Friday, January 14, 2005

Too Hot For A Name

I have decided to take up kick boxing and my first class is tomorrow, I also convinced my two friends, Monique and Steph, to come with me as well. This is going to be so cool...soon I will be able to beat people up with the use of my powerful legs...HIYA! I can see myself now, fashionista by day, super hero by night. People will just assume I am French because of my excellent taste in clothes, and then as soon as I step in to my diamond and platinum over the knee boots suddenly a black leather catsuit with a cascading cape will replace my Chanel outfits and I shall put on my platinum and diamond tiara and I will wear my space age platinum and diamond sun glasses.
Move over Cat Woman, I'll be so hot I wont even need a name, people will just refer to me as "too hot for a name". Who needs a name anyway when they can fly? I will save the world from evil extra terrestrials by focusing my energy and sending lasers out of my dazzling boots. Then I will create a forcefield with my incredibly expensive tiara to protect the earth from this ever happening again, which will also fix the ozone problem. I will end global warming by lasering out all the pollution in the atmosphere and finding an alternative source of energy. People will want to make me a movie star, a singer, a fashion designer, a perfumier, but I will say no as to not over expose myself. Instead I will support the efforts of ending world hunger and creating world peace...
Rachel said goodbye to her current supermodel boyfriend Alex, and snapped her mobile phone shut. She had just finished shopping and was making her way back to her 5th Avenue penthouse that over looked central park so her and Alex could have a romantic dinner together to celebrate their one week anniversary. But when Rachel made her way up to her Penthouse she knew that they would have to postpone their dinner.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH" Alex screamed like a little girl.
"Tell me where Rachel keeps her haute couture gowns and I will let you live." It was Tiffany Smith, the head editor of La Mode magazine. Years back Rachel had become the world's It girl when all the designers had decided she was the best person to wear their clothes. They gave her piles and piles of gorgeous gowns, which made Tiffany extremely mad because she had been striving to become an It girl for her whole life (little did she know you cannot "strive" to become an It girl, it just happens). She was so angry in fact, that she accidentally fell into a pile of nuclear waste which deformed her DNA so she started to grow freakishly long nails, radio active orange skin and tentacles which came out of her ass. Poor Tiffany. Rachel's It girl status never quivered or faded away, which made Tiffany even more angry than she already was. She hid in her office for ages until she finally perfected her plan of throwing Rachel's It girl status down the drain.
"I swear! I don't know! I've only been seeing Rachel for a week! She hasn't told me yet!" sobbed Alex. Tiffany picked Alex up with one of her tentacles as Rachel opened the door.
"Alex!" screamed Rachel, "One second! I'll go get help!"
"She wants your high fashion clothes Rachel! RUN!" Yelled Alex as Tiffany dropped him. Rachel ran through the door way and down the hall and to the stairs.
"You can run...but you can't hide!" Mocked Tiffany, as she let out a menacing laugh.
Quickly, Rachel threw off Louboutin flats and pulled on a glimmering pair of diamond platinum over the knee boots. Suddenly she was transformed into her super hero alter ego, who was too hot for a name, in a skin tight black leather cat suit with a billowing cape, a platinum diamond tiara and matching platinum diamon space age sun glasses. It was time to save her hot supermodel boyfriend from the grasps of the evil Tiffany Smith. With lightning fast speed she made her way down the staircase and flew up to the penthouse windows. She smashed through the windows and shot laser beams at Tiffany from the bottom of her fabulous boots, they hit her tentacles and cut them off.
"Well I was thinking about getting them surgically removed" said Tiffany, "You have no Idea the amount of stares I get when I'm walking down the street." suddenly Tiffany's orange skin began to glow Oh no, it's radioactive! Rachel, who is currently too hot for a name created a force field with her tiara protecting her and Alex from the radiation and also a burn, wrinkles and skin cancer. Focusing all her energy she blasted Tiffany away with her super strong kicking powers.
"I'll get you next time! You and your couture Rachel, where ever you are! You were just lucky help came in time!!!!!" And with that Tiffany Smith dissapeared into the horizon.
"What's your name?" asked Alex in awe, as he looked up at the diamond and platinum sun glasses.
"I don't have one" and with that she sailed away.
"Alex! Alex! Oh my God! Are you alright? I ran to the police station but NO ONE believed me! Can you believe that? Did she hurt you what went on?" Rachel ran to him and gave him a big hug.
"Rachel I'm leaving you..." said Alex.
"What? Why? For who?" asked Rachel, slightly heart broken.
"She saved my life today," Alex replied, "And she is so hot she doesn't even need a name." And with that Alex cat walked out of Rachel's life.
"Damn, this is the fourth one this month. I swear I should change my costume to overalls and Ugg boots." Rachel sighed.

One day I will look back and remember the day it all started with a simple kickboxing class...

Friday, January 07, 2005

little squeaks

Early this morning I woke up to country 95.3 fm which I leave on 24/7. Yes that's right, I listen to country music, you can stop laughing now. Usually the breakfast hosts are always lively and cheerful, usually I wake up to things like "Coleen loves Tim McGraw! Ow stop hitting me with your head phones! AAAAAHHHH!" but not today. Today I woke up to "-where the Tsunami created the most destruction. You can hear the horror in his voice."
And yes, I did hear the horror in this man's voice as he described what he saw around him, "There's just so much destruction. All there is are animals wondering around with bewildered looks on their faces. Looking for their owners and their homes." While he was talking I could hear a cat crying. It never occurred to me that cats cried, but it's little squeaks were filled with so much pain. I started to cried for that cat, who was lost and lonely, looking for it's family, it's home. I knew it would probably never find them, just like all the other animals searching for theirs. I wondered what the cat was thinking and how much it missed it's family and it's home just like all the other Tsunami victims. It's little paws determined not to stop until he found them and everything was ok, they would stroke it and feed it tuna because they were so scared they lost it and they had missed it so much.
I know they were only squeaks, but they were filled with so much sadness and confusion. I just couldn't help crying.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Dear Ashley Simpson,

Look Ashley, I have something to tell you, that I should have told you ions ago:
Don't become a singer if you can't sing. This is one of the reasons I have never dreamt of becoming a singer, I can't sing, like you. Chances are if I ever did become a singer I would have to lip synch, like you. If I ever performed without lip syncing I would get booed, like you. Unlike you I understand that singing will never be an option for me unless I am singing very quietly to the radio.
Why Ashley? Why the hell did you decide to become a singer? You should have stayed on Seventh Heaven, they would have kept you on the show. It was a steady paying job Ashley! You don't just throw that away for a singing career when you can't even sing! You had things going for you, you acted and danced. You could have dyed your hair a nicer color (like chocolate with auburn highlights) and had a reality show about being an actor and starring in movies. But instead you dyed your hair a greasy-oil-spill black and decided to document your already over singing career.
You've screwed up twice Ashley, twice. The first time you got away with it, you made up a story about your acid reflux and people forgave you and you joked about it. The second time, when you "preformed" at the Orange Bowl (whatever that is), nobody forgave you. You sounded like some un-earthly animal dying in extreme pain. You were booed by the whole stadium, you should have just stuck to lip syncing. I know, I know, the sound system was failing, you developed a mysterious throat disease over night, your acid reflux was acting up (you shouldn't become a singer if your acid reflux contantly impairs your singing), I've heard it all.
Maybe you should disappear for a while, dye your hair another colour that compliments your complexion, get a nose job and come back as Isabel Simpson, the little sister of Jessica Simpson and Ashley Simpson, who committed suicide in a basement after she was booed at the Orange cup. This time Ashley...or should I say Isabel I think you should stick to acting. Play a little sister on a W.B. show, and NEVER sing again.
Love from,
Rachel

P.S. What was that pink thing waving out of your ass?

Monday, January 03, 2005

POISON

On the day before New Year's eve I went over to Steph's house for another sleep over. Surprisingly her dog was completely calm, he just walked around looking for food and he didn't act like I belonged in his feeding bowl.
Since Steph's mom wasn't home I got to sleep in her room, which is across the hall from Steph's, it is not the same room I had heard her parents, um you know. I wasn't surprised they had done it in a different room when I found out what her mother was keeping in there. It was something that really freaked me out. It wasn't the decor, because Steph's mom is an interior designer so the room looked fabulous, the dog hadn't done some gigantic poo on the floor, and there wasn't some perverse object underneath the bed. It was something on the bedside table. A little bottle with very intricate handwriting on it, so small and fancy I could not read it, but it had a pretty big picture of cross bones and a skull, the poison sign. What's this? I thought.
I'm not usually one to snoop around, but if that bottle contained something very important and very secret she would have hidden it...right? Er...Maybe not. I picked it up and read the back, Smokeless, Tasteless, Colorless. Warning! Do not consume. This product is potentially lethal. If consumed call an ambulance immediately. Do not induce vomiting. Keep away from eyes, mouth, nose and any open wounds.
What? What does that mean? Well if you wanted to KILL someone it would be very useful. Then it hit me: The clear liquid that was inside that bottle was POISON! Stehp's mom keeps POISON on her bedside table! What kind of person keeps POISON on their bedside table? And another thought, what would they need it for? Who is Steph's mom planning to kill? Well I really hope it's not me. I went to check names of people Steph's mom might want to kill off in my head, well there's Steph, but what kind of mother kills their own daughter? Me, but come on, who's going to kill me, I always appear so innocent and caring. Steph's dog, he is kind of vicious and it's getting pretty expensive to put down animals. Steph's dad, Steph told me he had a crack problem and spent all their money, that's and ok excuse to kill someone...I guess, but I would prefer to wreck some of their property, less guilt. And since I don't know anyone else who Steph's mom knows that was it.
I really do not know how to react to this sort of situation. I guess if someone who is linked to Steph's mom dies, I could provide some information, but then I would feel unbearably guilty for never saying anything in the first place. Well I guess I will go and do what I always do in these sort of situations: Nothing!