EMMJAY

Apart from being $230.⁰⁰ (which includes shipping), I would consider these well worth it. Especially because they're pretty much the last pair and will be here within the week.

So I’ve figured out how to make my life the most manageable as far as the English homework versus Live Journal dilemma goes: hand in the unrefined, handwritten notes you took two weeks ago in class (and completely without the discussion notes which were supposedly taken throughout the literary seminars last week) and commit, oh, I don’t know, a good hour or so to the update I promised the lot of you yesterday. After all, I get more fulfillment on doing this sort of thing rather than providing commentary of a frivolous nature to some mediocre short story published in a high-school text book. I am brilliant- hear me fail.

Thursday :
I was hoping on put, put, putting over to the blessed kingdom in the sky of Bishop Carol High School while I was on my half day from school in order to plaster a smile across Bridget’s face but she was scheduled for a vet’s appointment instead (this is a most unacceptable circumstance for future reference) so by some series of events that I can’t recall correctly for the life of me (and therefore won’t even bother as much as I love hearing myself type), Jordan and I had an excursion to Westbrook Mall where we took in such quality shopping attractions as As Seen on TV, WAL★MART, the Source (Where I found a PS1 to USB converter (or was it the other way around?) for the everyday suspicious price of $16.99 but didn’t buy it in fear of blowing my dance platform’s overpriced converter box yet again) and finally EB Games where I hadn’t been in a while mainly on account of imports being superior to their domestic counterparts if only for the prestige of having something that nobody else does (Like how up until 6^th Style, the interface for the beatmania IIDX series is pretty much the same in every game and rivals the quality of even the internet’s only known beatmania simulator BM98. Bummer…) So once we arrived there via rusty, tetanus covered shopping cart we found twenty blocks away, Jordan battled many a conscious battles over what games or gaming accessories to spend his birthday certificates on and I made an array of snare comments at just over the allowacated ‘indoor voices’ level about how Final Fantasy isn’t a very good game at all should any Otaku folk come flinging their fat rolls through the doors, all as an elaborate attempt to shut down their impending fandom rants mindless pleas for psychological intervention. More importantly I boughtPhoenix Wright Ace Attorney: Justice For All. I’ve had my DS Lite since the pre-release and only now do I own a game I can call my own for it. Still havn’t gotten around to playing it mind you because Animal Crossing: Wild World continues to be all the crack I need as part of a balanced breakfast.

Then I returned to my dark fortress where I proceeded to do a sloppy ten minute paint job of my Spanish project which was to use at least ten adjectives and full sentences to describe your ideal prospective lover. I having not wanted to take this class in the first place and being of the mindset to reap gradual havoc on the Calgary Board of Education’s moral standards, decided to make a mockery of the assignment through making what is both an homage to Space Channel 5 and a one-point-perspective disaster… But quite the hunk no less.


Yeah, I look for that in a man. Right there. Taco in panties. Sour cream on face. May the ta-la-la touching commence. I just hope you know how serious this is seeing as if you knew the first thing about the language of Spanish you could see right through my pink penning and see that I use words such as ‘offensive’, ‘arrogant’ and list red hair as a turn on. AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA NO.

Friday :
Somebody alert the press, another half day for Emmjay! And once again I employ my almighty powers of manipulation to get Jordan to escort me to 17^th avenue so I could get another pair of Tripp pants with lots of fagatory straps to hold my keys on. Their selection was nothing too far out of the ordinary (well, in comparison to their stock the last half dozen or so times I’ve visited) but then I came across these bitchin’ threads and eatsed ‘em up on the spot (you see, my other ones cut themselves almost at my ankle which I simply will not have)


CLICK FOR BIG.

As usual I apologize for the fantastic quality of my still broken digital camcorder with bonus (and hardly reliable as it seems) camera feature. Get used to it.

So next after recovering various E-ROTIC songs on the street, out in public, Jordan heads home and I head out for a nice hour long walk up 17^th until I reach Phoenix comics to drop more large sums of money which I’m surprised I even have on more manga which I may not get down to reading ever really (just in case you’re a creep and want to know, this newly aquired manga just so happens to be Trigun 10, Trigun 11, Jazz 4, Passion 3 and Yellow 4. Obligatory nasel hemorrhaging here.)

And then of course came Summerstock which in all of it’s dramaturgical glory went pretty well (even better though because I don’t see Sid or Benson nearly enough as it is) but then along came mister fire alarm and threw us all into what I was more or less hoping to be a state of adrenaline induced chaos or possibly even anarchy. Somehow though, a sub-conclusion was drawn that maybe the alarm was pulled as an attempt for the group of bandits who have been robbing the school of all their fancy electronics to, well, do their thang. Too bad I didn’t have any rock-solid alibi as to where I was at the time seeing as I was alone when I heard the alarm and didn’t see anybody for two minutes following. Is this what I get for being antisocial? Oh and Benson can stick two thirds of my DS Lite down this throat. I thought that was pretty cool!

There was so much more to that bit of my story but nothing outside of just descriptions of where we got pulled around to in order to receive further interrogation into the whole whodunit. I’d describe in graphic detail but I’m not about to lost the attention of all the readers (should I have even bothered to pluralized that?) who have made it this far into tonight’s post. But just for the sake of it, I’m going to dole on about the rest of my night after Stock as if it were important to you anyway.

Benson’s dad offered me a ride home so I took it because I’m all for getting the most bang for my buck even when it’s a free deal so there’s no money required in the first place. This however ended up turning into going to Boston Piza where delicious pizza was consumed, napkin origami was made and I was left once again yearning for the simpler times of my life when I could drink the thick syrup they use in orange pop as a beverage on it’s own.

Saturday :
Mom had her birthday party and as usual left no alternative to Greek food to the unfortunate gathering of guests. Luckily spanakopitas were still Greek as of last night around 7:00 so I was pretty much set for life. I throw my arms so high in the air for such delightful spinach filled pastries. Yummy in my tummy, etc…

Sunday :
Yeah, what did end up happening today other than consuming about 500% of my daily recommended intake of sodium?

Well, it looks like todays the last day that I’m house sitting for my aunt; although house sitting really doesn’t seem to be the most appropriate term seeing as what I’ve been doing is more something to the effect of going to her house, eating her all delicious After Eight dinner mints, watching entire seasons of the Kids in the Hall at a time, spending a few minutes working on my research work book until I realize that I’m an incompetent artist, voting on my own Newgrounds submissions from another IP address and then spending all the food money she left me on custom T-Shirts with Jordan two days ago. Oh, have I not talked about that day yet? Well let’s do that then because it was really quite thrilling (as roboleg himself has already posted).

So yes, Jordan came to fort MJ at 1 P.M. Of course I had been up since 6 A.M. playing Pokemon Stadium in anticipation for the later occurrences of the day. Even so my mother was still asleep so we had to be quiet as not to awaken her and all of her, um, “rage”. In this time, Jordan and I played an a few overwhelming rounds of Rez.

Needless to say, I have gotten no better at this game but it is still one of the only video games which I am just as content with sitting back and watching as I am with actually playing. It’s a raver’s game. It’s charming and trippy and just as fun to watch the first time as it is the hundredth. That and the controller vibrates like crazy when I play so I get a few good, cheap laughs in the meantime.

Then we watched the first episode of Burn-Up W- first in Spanish, then in English and later on in Japanese. It’s another example of why the Japanese are not like us. Very much an anime. So many panties. So many tits. So many tits. SO MANY TITS (And I’ll bet you read that last one ‘cause it was in bold) I don’t really remember how we spent the rest of the time at my house. It’s all a blur. Some kind of mixture of Spyware purging, Jordan shooting me with my own Nerf gun and me eating a bag of pre-chopped lettuce shreds.

Then my mom took us to Kensington so she could spend my in-store-credit at the consignment store which seldom has amazing stuff but when does, has AMAZING stuff (For example my platform boots or Halfsleep tank top) However I found nothing. The Rocket on the other hand, was a completely different story. There I finally stocked up on some T-shirts I had been meaning to get for quite some time now (Yes, with my aunt’s lunch money) these fine, quality T-shirts included:

- "I’M SUCH A ☭COMMUNIST" printed with red block letters on a white shirt with half-arm length red sleeves
- Simon and Hecubus "EVIL" print on golden yellow T-shirt
- Full cast in plastic covered suits "the Kids in the Hall" print on bright blue T-shirt

Meanwhile, my mom took Jordan to New Age Books and Crystals and he must have had some kind of super-trendy occult revelation or something because he came back and paid for ⅔s of this really great hanging O ring belt that I’ve wanted for at least a hundred years that I can hang EVERYTHING IN MY CURRENT POSSESSION off of.

Next we went to WAL ★MART. Then Cash Converters. Cash Converters doesn’t sell Dreamcasts apparently but that’s okay because I guess there’s still hope for me cosplaying as orange Ulala after all (because I’d need a Dreamcast to play the Space Channel 5 game that comes with the white Ulala headpiece that I need. Fun story, I know)

Then we drove him home. Misery time was then.

But today was also quite good!

I went to my hairdresser for the first time since I had gotten my hair done for OtaFest (Some time before the May 21st long weekend) and I got my hair cut for no good reason at all. Then on the way back I asked my mom if I could go to Barbie’s Shop to look at shoes and to my surprise, she said yes. So I found this pair of really, really great JtHM-esque boots (because I really am quite the 10-year-old neo-Goth deep down inside) which they didn’t have in stock but this Tuesday they should be shipped in and once I put the rest of the $260 down, all this pair of boots will belong to me:


CLICK FOR ENLARGE. YEAH I KNOW.

And to top it all off, thanks to my great ability to flat-out lie, London Drugs has agreed to replace my SkullCandys because somehow, all that red-dye I massacred that weeding dress for art with got all over the beautiful white leather headband and effectively ruined my life for the last month.

Oh, and I’ve lost five pounds this week.

Oh my God, this week has been absolutely hilarious!

So Wednesday was the day that our group’s French Revolution movie would be due on. Originally the date was set for Monday but just because of our group’s immense time restrictions, our teacher adjusted the class due date for Wednesday at the latest.

Anyway, my mom ended up canceling me babysitting my cousins on Monday so that I would be able to get more homework done only for me to have spent that afternoon at school with three of my five group members (ironically enough the two who were absent seemed to be the most stressed over us getting it done on time- go figure) to work on the movie. So no biggie yet. We get all the footage on film, I ride the bus home dressed up as Hitler; life is good. It’s when I get home to transfer the files onto the computer that the shit starts hitting the fan thus leading to my educational crucifixion as I knew it.

Last I had connected my camera to the computer, the fire wire port’s internal prong thingies were a little mangled but the transfer for the most part was okay (mind you it was a bit sensitive because the wire didn’t exactly stay in but worked no less). But when I tried on Monday night, the prongs had gone from mangled to mutilated. So the notoriously intelligent MJ disassembles his camera until it lies in front of him in six parts. Conclusion : Well shit, I think this is broken.

On to Tuesday. All day I tell nobody about my little predicament in fear of a group member or two shitting bricks at me for being irresponsible or unreliable or what ever (because I’m the one editing the film and everything) It’s about now where I’ve tried every flipping cable in my house in combination with any remotely conductive alloy to connect this damn device to my even further useless computer and the best idea I have is to play the video on T.V. and record that image onto my computer with another video camera. Then it hits me- another camera. If I could get a hold of another camera, I could put the tape with my files into it and then connect that to the computer. So I call my aunt at her school and ask if she can bring me back a camcorder that plays Mini DV cassettes. Of course she brings me the only camcorder from her school which plays the Mini DV’s predecessors and was fortunately from the ‘93ish generation of cameras- yeah right. And I don’t find this out until around seven o’clock that night (16 fun filled hours until presentation time)

So then I take the receiptless camera to London Drugs where I get charged $35 to have the camera sent in to have an estimate done. Meanwhile I am sans any camera at all.

So then I yell and a scream and I pull out some hair and I cry and I piss my pants and start playing the guitar and writing poetry and watching the stars go by and muse about my insignificance in the grand scheme of things and I light patchouli scented candles and watch Dr.Phil and I start self mutilating and start binge drinking and pick up a heroin habit or two and all that good stuff. But the one thing that came out of it all was that I remembered that I’m MJ. I’m a quitter. When I do bad at school, I take a few days off to finish my homework yell at other people on Live Journal who aren’t even home anyway. The only reason I was so driven to get the damn thing done was because regardless if it was done or not, we had to present the next day. The public overlooking my hard work is much worse than public humiliation by a long shot. Anyway, what I’m getting to here was that at oh, I don’t know, nine-something I came up with the brilliant idea of just buying a new camera, putting the tape in, uploading the film and then returning the camera. It’s a mighty shame that cameras don’t come with fire wire ports or mini DV compatibility for under $400- or at least not at Staples, London Drugs, Zellers, Visions, Super Store or any other “fine retailer” near me. And then there was Wal*Mart. Oh sweet, sweet Wal*Mart… Too bad that I only have $320 or so on me because by now a certain mother of mine owes me over $1000.

The cheapest camera I could find that fit my strict criteria was $370. Too bad the useless salesclerks wasted my time fidgeting with the display model so I could test and see if my tape would fit in. It honestly took them at least twenty minutes to realize that they would have to attach the adaptor to the camera, turn it on, turn it to play mode, push the button labeled “Press to open”, insert the tape properly and press play. For Christ sakes, there is certainly no need to flash me the “I know how to do my job, thank-you” face when I was A) telling the guy EXACTLY what to do in as casual of a way as possible and B)going to be returning the camera anyway. But back to the monetary crisis of the time. I was $50 short with seven minutes till closing time and my mom had no money because she got her hair dyed the same color of phony bleach blonde it was before.

So then I yell and a scream and I pull out some hair and I cry and I piss my pants and start playing the guitar and writing poetry and watching the stars go by and muse about my insignificance in the grand scheme of things and I light patchouli scented candles and watch Dr.Phil and I start self mutilating and start binge drinking and pick up a heroin habit or two and all that good stuff. But the one thing that came out of it all was that I went up to my (starving former med-student) cousin’s house which was in close proximity to Wal*Mart, offered a vague explanation of the events and was given her $50 reserve stash. So plus one camera and from then on marks a long night.

So I upload the movies and try to offer brief synopsis’s to my group members over MSN. Too bad the narration files that Pieter had made earlier that afternoon had periods in the filenames. Which doing so is pretty much comparable to shooting yourself in the foot to run faster. To my total time spent on editing, add another two hours; maybe three for good luck.

And then I edit and edit and edit from 10:30 – 9:30. Eleven whole house of mediocre video quality and roundabout ways of solving problems that arise with a harsh case of the 4AM logic bunnies. In any case I finished it and to my understanding we got 100%.


PART ONE

PART TWO

Alas, those should be watched (if not for my red jumpsuit freestyle ballet skills but for the obligatory Strobe Action sampling) You might actually learn something but on the other hand, you probably won’t.



Later that sleep deprived night came Chrissy and I volunteering at the school dance for our Social Actions Project (in this case, UNICEF). That meant casualy going up to people during slow dances and recklessly shaking a box full of spare change at all the couples while I guilt trip then with win phrases such as “In your first world country, you value intimacy and frivolous relationships, in Africa they value education and NOT dyeing of famin” or “For only 1¢, you can save eight African continents. DONATE NOW.” And then I remembered how lame I am that I’ve never slow danced with a guy in my life- ever. I’m just so lame and virginal and all that tra-la-la-la-la like that. But my grieving over that was quickly replaced by joy over doing Alex’s makeup and the occasional insomnia induced hallucinations.

The most popular choice for Halloween costumes this year amongst the predominately female high school crowed seemed to be Goth-Slut. Some Goth raver fairy things traded “kandi” with me and some other Goth-Slut with a bunch of piercing was nagging at me to make me a dress exactly like mine for her. Sorry, just let me go gauge my ears to some insensible diameter while I think about reproducing my identity to some chick who was “flipping E” or what ever they call it now at a HIGHSCHOOL DANCE (oh cool) who probably wouldn’t pay me anyway.

Yesterday we some how won this free second hand mattress cover which now resides on my bed. In combination with my appalling sleeping patterns, I don’t think I’m ever going to leave my bed now.