Burning Fire

Forget that last post. Hasn't called.
I have cabin (I suppose, apartment) fever. I want to get out, go downtown, meet some new people and just have fun. We need another crazy weekend. It's been too long. So I'm trying to talk Katelin into blowing off homework - who needs it? - to come with me.
However, it's Wednesday, and so I'm sure it'll all be a let down, cuz what fun craziness happens on hump day? None. Phooey on these people that try to tell us all that the only times you can have fun are Friday night and Saturday. Why not have everyday be a fun day? Sure, you're tired the next morning. But 5 years down the road, do you remember that? Nope, you only remember how much fun you had. That's why I stay out and have people over and have fun on school nights.
Note to self: *Start calling people "Duckie" and adding "Baby" to the end of their names
* Start blowing kisses
* Start using the word "peradventure"

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 8:16 PM | Permalink | Comments

He called last night. His phone got turned off.
Oops.... :)

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 9:14 PM | Permalink | Comments

::Story read out of a great big book, from a person in a great big armchair, by a fireplace::
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was really really nice. She was from up north, where people talk normal, have manners, know how to drive and are all around better people. She had great clothes, was super interesting, always fun and was very cultured. She had recently moved down south and was out having a crazily grand weekend with her friends. They went to a club and she
::dum dum dum dum::
saw this boy. He was the first boy she saw there. He was the devil, but she didn't know, because, as we all know, the devil is very beautiful outwardly. He was, in the words of the girl's friend, "a babe."
Well, this girl was normally a very conservative person, but at the urging of her bad influence, but totally fun friend, she went to talk to him at the end of the night.
::End of the niiiiiight:: That's Jim Morrison singing right there.
This boy was not from the coveted north, lived on the "east side" ::insert east side hand-motion here::, had been in jail and used to work as a landscaper, oh excuse me a horticultureist, until he got bit by a snake and quit and then went to work as a semi-bouncer at the oh-so-posh ::cough:: bar and grill called Rippy's.
So this leads them to hanging out a couple times and several phone calls. The girl could be very stupid sometimes - as all girls can be - and liked this borderline ghetto, I-wear-diamond earrings, I'm-on-probation, my-dad-was-in-the-mafia, I-know-everyone-in-town badboy.
::flashes slow-mo pictures of them laughing and smiling, close up on their faces::
But he was a jerk and stopped calling her outta the blue for no apparant reason, just when she though he liked her.
::fast forward one month::
This undeserving-of-such-a-jerk girl ran into this bad boy downtown. She bought his lame excuse of having lost her number and they start to hang out again. He calls everyday. They hang out about every other day. He is nice. He pays for dinner. He really is smart, even tho it doesn't come out when it's not just the two of them. He's funny. He wears plaid pants. He is a total nightowl, which the girl loves because she is too, and a true night owl is quite hard to find. She thinks they're having fun.
::Black screen::
::White letters::
October 16, 2005
4:45 a.m.
Phone rings. "Hey Gorgeous, what are you doin'?" "I was sleeping till the phone rang." " Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want me to call you tomarrow then?" "Yeah, do you work tomarrow?" "No." "Ok. Talk to you tomarrow." "Bye."
The End.

Since the production of this story, the following has happened: Nothing. His phone has been turned off. He has not called her and she can't call him.

And they all lived ____ ever after.

Moral of the story, for all you chillin's out there: Boys will never ever call you and for some unknown and completely unjustified reason, think they are better than everyone else in the world and can treat them like crap.

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 5:44 PM | Permalink | Comments

School is stupid!
I hate 8 page papers on Islam and Christianity!
I wish Fall Break was longer and that Katelin hadn't gone home to Pennsylvania! It's boring w/o her.
So yeah, Angela, you need to update your blog. Now you are the one not updating and I am.
Guess what? I am seeing THE ONE, THE ONLY Paul McCartney a week from today! I'm seeing A BEATLE!! AHH!! Can you believe it? I can't. And I am going totally 60's mod to the show.
I don't remember why I started posting on here, so I guess I'll stop.

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 5:09 PM | Permalink | Comments

I love Nashville. I love having my own apartment. I love guys with long hair and lip rings. I love being young and doing stupid things. If you only get to have one go at life, which you do, why not live it up? School, work, money - why let them drag you down? I don't intend to.

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 6:10 PM | Permalink | Comments

Oliver Stone's movie The Doors was on tv today. Unable to tear myself away from the first few strains of "The End" coming through my television, I watched it. I justified it by telling myself I needed to see it so I can have a real opinion on it, not just taking Ray's word for it.

Ray was right.

Misrepresentation.

If you hadn't read Ray's book, which is a literal month by month account of The Doors entire life, maybe you wouldn't think so. I didn't even live it, but from Ray's accounts, I know that much of it was wrong. Also, they tried to recreate some things that I have seen the real footage of - and they were awful. The Ed Sullivan Show was the worst.

Jim just looked like a wreckless, pointless person. All they showed was Jimbo. No Jim.

The end was the worst. They showed (real) footage of the cemetary and Jim's "grave", with haunting music in the background - all covered in grafiti of all kinds. I don't know why, I've seen pictures of it before, but this ... I lost it.

The only good thing about the movie was that they played all Doors music and there were some pretty trippy, hallucinagenic scenes from when they were supposed to be high.

Posted by Mrs. Jagger at 9:34 PM | Permalink | Comments