There are some things that inevitably refresh me:
cutting my nails
turning in a paper.

Yes, the paper is written. I even did it despite work. No Chinese will keep me from Greece.

Water is another refreshing thing lately. Mostly because I never drink water because water is for fishes (the wisdom that has been repeated for me from my grandparents as long as I can remember. Dont drink water, drink wine. Or Orange Juice, if you must.). But fishes seem to have a good life. I want a good life.
Ergo.

My crummy little guitar sits in the corner beside me. For as crummy as it is, it's growing on me. It's dusty. Don't take it personal, please. The other crummy guitar sits on the other corner, only it's dusty because I did use it and I has a broken string and I can't get the tab thing out to change them.
yes, I am weak.

You know what I hate? I hate that my world gets shattered really easily. Last year I found out that a Barracuda was infact a FISH and not a snake. All this time of hearing Heart's song and I totally thought that it was a snake. No one understands how I think it was a snake because they've always known it was a fish. But if they hadn't known what it was, and I said, "Barracuda" I bet they'd think of a snake. And I hate that "spelt" isn't a word. And there's so many others. And that's why people dont think I should talk or spell at all, because no matter the language, it never works for me.
But darn it, I know WWII code pretty darn well.

I came up with an analogy the other day. See my life is pretty booked. I'm not as able to be spontaneous as I'm used to being. It's hard, having to alter part of my personality. Thus, NSA is trying to change my personality, my way of life. NSA is doing to me what the US did to the Indians-- giving me beads in exchange for my tepee and tomohawk, it's making me a school boy instead of a warrior.
even though i am a squaw.
squaw no get firewood, SQUAW GO HOME.
And how fitting is it that I go home on Thanksgiving? Thanksgiving is a time when we be generous to Indians, or whoever inhabited our land before us. I'm pretty sure they were Russian, but no Russian ever taught my family how to plant corn.
Ergo.

As Pocahontus says, Wingape.

And yes, she spelt it just like that.

Subliminal Messaging

I'm offended. Ok so those people who know even a little bit about me, know that Latin is the plague of my life. I can't even complain about how much I hate it. And you know what? Someone who I hang out with fairly often did an interview thing, and it said, "What does Ashley Hoogendam do when she is bored?" And do you know what he answered?! "Sleep. Or do latin." WHAT. LATIN. Yah, he seriously said that. I'm so offended.
so hoist up the john b sails
I just came back from watching the guys of my school (and some extras, some grads, some alum's) play Pumpkin Rugby. I respect Rugby. I respect those who play Rugby. It's full of blood, bruises and boys (sorry, had to get another B word in there). What's not to like hahaha. (yah, that doesn't sound like me does it haha) It was cold. But this time, no one got sent to the Hospital. What Rugby game DOESN'T end with someone in the hospital? I feel jipped. I want to see real Rugby some time. With a real rugby ball, without Pumpkins. I like their shirts. and their socks. It might be one of my favourite sports now. I even watch it on Youtube. That and soccer and some football.
see how the main sail sets
I'm translating the Bible from Latin into English. And the angels weep for me.
--Ironic--
call up the captain ashore and let me go home
My life has been boring. I dont even get the random horror moments of killing spiders. Yah, I know, my house doesn't even produce spiders. You know what else, it doesn't produce warmth either. I LIVE in sweaters and electric blankets. And you know what else? The skies blessed us with snow a couple days ago. Yah, snow. It was October then.
i wanna go home
I didnt even do anything for Halloween.
why don't they let me go home?
Thanksgiving, I call thy name.
I feel so broke up, I wanna go home.