10/31/2007

happy Halloweenie!

a lot's been going on since friday.

i probably won't have any time to tell you.

because everything's happening too fast ha.

so there.

and in a(n) nutshell acorn, it was like this...

Friday
- last day of school.
- mom goes to Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam.
- some drama about The Click 5 not coming to our school even though we won the competition. (read here)
- some drama about class allocation for next year. (out school system really sucks, if you must know)
- SLEEPOVER AT FAITH'S WITH JORD AND STACY!
- -whoop- OF FUN.

Saturday
- out with Faith, Jord and Stace!
- blah blah.
- went to their (my old) church. and it's funner than mine. hmph.

Sunday
- i love my grandma.
- started season 6 of 24 on dvd.
- mom came back. yay.

Monday
- watched 4 episodes of 24 consecutively. need something else to do.

Tuesday
- Sam came over and we argued about her "paedophilia", ha, and whether S. M. Afable was hot. no he isn't! (poo)
- went to tuition, blah and the grocery store to get stuff for the class barbeque party.
- we "fell" into the pool. practically the whole class.
- towel capes are awesome.
- finished 10 episodes of 24 in total. i desperately need something else to do.

so there you have it. my absolutely jam-packed-with-amazing-and-fun-activites schedule.

ugh.

and happy Halloween. because you deserve candy. and also because we need to scare the living sh*t (whoop!) outta some people.

and listen to some Vampire Weekend, they'll make you smile.

x

10/27/2007

you're SO emo.



Dear Diary,
Mood: Apathetic
My life is spiraling downward
I couldn't get enough money to go to the Blood Red Romance and Suffocate Me Dry concert.
It sucks because they play some of my favorite songs like, Stab My Heart Because I Love You and Rip Apart My Soul and of course Stabby, Rip, Stab, Stab .
And it doesn't help that I couldn't get my hair to flippy thing either, like that guy from that band could do. Some days.

I’m an emo kid, non-conforming as can be
You’d be non-conforming to if you looked just like me
I have paint on my nails and makeup on my face
I’m almost emo enough to start shaving my legs
Cause I feel real deep when I’m dressing in drag
I call it freedom of expression, most just call me a fag
Cause our dudes look like chicks and our chicks look like dikes
Cause emo is one step below transvestite

Stop my breathing and slit my throat
I must be emo
I don’t jump around when I go to shows
I must be emo

I’m dark, and sensitive with low self esteem
The way I dress makes everyday feel like Halloween
I have no real problems but I like to make believe
I stole my sisters mascara and now I’m grounded for a week
Sulking and writing poetry are my hobbies
I can’t get through a Hawthorne Heights album without sobbing
Girls keep breaking up with me
It’s never any fun they say they already have a pussy
They don’t need another one

Stop my breathing and slit my throat
I must be emo
I don’t jump around when I go to shows
I must be emo
Dye in my hair nail polish on my toes
I must be emo
I play guitar and write suicide notes
I must be emo

My life is just a black abyss you know? It’s so dark
And its suffocating me
Grabbing a hold of me and tightening its grip
Tighter than a pair of my little sisters jeans.
(Which look great on me, by the way)

When I get depressed I cut my wrists in every direction
Hearing songs about getting dumped give me an erection
I write in a LiveJournal and wear thick rimmed glasses
I tell my friends I bleed black and cry during classes
I’m just a bad, cheap, imitation of goth
You could read me Catcher In The Rye and watch me jack-off
I wear skin tight clothes while hating my life
If I said I like girls I’d only be half right

I look like I’m dead and dress like a homo
I must be emo
Screw Xbox I play old school Nintendo
I must be emo
I like to whine and hit my parentals
I must be emo
Me and my friends all look like clones
I must be emo

My parents don’t get me, you know?
They think I’m gay because they saw me kiss a guy.
Well, a couple of guys
But I mean, it's the 2000's.
Can’t two, or four dudes make out with each other without being gay?
I mean chicks dig that kind of thing anyways
I don’t know diary, sometimes I think you’re the only one on that gets me, you’re my best friend... I feel like tacos.

10/25/2007

beLIEve

Sam and i had a nice conversation... on the 24th. yes.

there is Person 1, 2, and 3. Person 1 didn't go to school and 2 isn't in our math class so we could talk about whatever we wanted. ("FREEDOOOOMMM!!", says Braveheart/William Wallace/Mel Gibson)

okay. so Sam is good friends with Person 2. and then they swop secrets and whatever the heck girly girlfriends do. (no offence to Sam :))

then along dances Person 1. okay, she doesn't dance, she stomps and makes us quake in her terrifying presence. but whatever.

Person the First then proceeds to hook up (NOT LITERALLY!) with Person 2 by using her extraordinary conversational skills on the topic of BOYS. which is obviously Numero Duo's weakness.

ugh.

anyway, Person 2 is drifting from Sam towards Person 1 and now THEY'RE becoming girly girl girlfriends (ew) and exchanging secrets and whispering all the time in front of other people AND backstabbing people including me.

LOSERS!

okay. ha. so the problem's that Sam doesn't like Person 1 (who DOES?) and they're backstabbing everyone else who isn't them.

wait, where does Person the Third come in? OH. Person 3 is the self-inviting little (not literally LITTLE, either) -insert inappropriate noun here- who talks as much trash as your garbage disposal.

and she's annoying as -insert really annoying noun here-.

so it's basically Persons 1, 2 and 3(not really) who need to get wiped off the face of the earth because backstabbers are just as good as people who wear fur.

oh psh. i don't really like doing this "ranting" (people call it that). i find it so lame.

but then again i have to. because this is why you love me.

YES!

10/24/2007

The Adventures of Emo Boy and Scene Girl

This was some part fan-fic, part making-fun-of-stereotypes story i found on myspace. credits go to Lizzard or whatever they want to be called. :)

The Adventures of Emo Boy and Scene Girl

Episode One

"Come, Emo Boy! Evil's A-Converse!" A girl with hair that looked like it had been in a fight with a chainsaw, and then in a fight with a dye factory said. She was wearing a Hello Kitty beach towel for a cape, and had on skinny jeans and a blue, pink, and green striped swishy top.

"What's the point anymore?" a boy laying on the ground by her said. His voice was the only clue that he was alive, as his extremely pale face had barely moved.

"Oh, come on! There are lives to be saved!" Scene Girl moshed where she stood. "Besides, it's that dude. From that wicked sick band! The hot one, with the hair!"

Emo Boy sat up suddenly. "The dick-headed one?" he asked.

"The very same! Now, let's go!" She grabbed Emo Boy's arm, and directed him out the window, jumping out behind him. Mere moments later, all that could be seen of the two 'super heroes' was two capes, one hot pink, the other black.


Episode Two: The Case of the Tight Pants

"HEEEEELP!!!!" Shouted a certain rock star, in search of his saviors. "HEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP!!!!!! AND I FUCKING MEAN IT!!!"

"Never fear, Scene Girl is here!" Scene Girl said, popping up behind the egotistical rock star.

"And I'm Emo Boy... woo..." Emo Boy drawled, standing next to his comrade.

"And we hear that YOU have a problem, Mr. Pete, Sir!" Scene Girl grinned, surreptitiously pulling out a notebook from her back pocket.

"Well, DUH! I mean, just LOOK at my pants! I can't get them off over... THAT!" he motioned downwards. Scene Girl's eyes widened.

"Wow... That's the biggest I've ever seen..." she said, her eyes growing wider by the second.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just want these pants OFF so that I can get some relief!" Pete growled.

"Do we HAVE to?" Emo Boy asked Scene Girl.

"Of course we do, Emo-ey! It's out duties as super heroes!" she shouted at him.

"Super Zeroes, more like..." Emo Boy mumbled.

"Oh, hush! Mr. Wentz, we'll do as you ask, but only so long as you give me your autograph, and let us poke your bartskull tattoo!" Scene Girl laughed evilly as she thrust her notebook and a Sharpie at Pete.

"Agh! Anything to get these pants OFF!!!" Pete groaned, and scrawled an autograph for Scene Girl, who was caught in paroxysms of giggles. She accepted the book back, and did a little happy dance.

"NOW will you get these things off!" Pete gasped.

"Sure thing! Emo Boy! Grab him, and don't let go!" Scene Girl said, going directly to business.

"I hope you don't mind if I accidentally yank your arms out..." Emo Boy pessimitized.

"All righty then! One, two, three!" Scene Girl cried, and pulled Pete's Pants off of him. Pete immediately sat down on the ground whimpering.

"You didn't suck too horribly with your getting-guys-out-of-their-pants powers..." Emo Boy congratulated Scene Girl, who nodded in enjoyment.

"I'm delighted to find that my powers work in this scenario, too! I mean, who'd have thought that I'd be able to get pants THAT tight over the biggest..." a truck roared past outside obscuring her words. "...that I've ever seen!"

"All right, are you going to kiss it and make it all better or not?" Pete asked.

"Of course! Another of my super powers are kisses that can do absolutely anything!" Scene Girl said.

Pete scooched himself towards Scene Girl, who leaned down and kissed his...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Big toe.

Suddenly the story stopped in a tableau, and Scene Girl looked over at you. Yeah, you, the one reading this story.

"My Gawd, you sicko! This fanfic is only rated PG-13! I can't BELIVE you were thinking that! Like I would EVER give Pete Wentz a blow job!" she said, a disgusted look on her face.

"Awww.... Please?" Pete asked.

"No! And we are done discussing this!" Scene Girl exclaimed while the story returned to where it was supposed to be.

"Thank you, Emo Boy and Scene Girl! I can put my pants on again, now that the bump on my toe is gone!" Pete grinned, and gave the super heroes a thumbs up.

"I believe you still owe us two pokes..." Scene Girl reminded the bassist of Fall Out Boy.

He sighed, and pulled up his shirt a little. Emo Boy and Scene Girl both squeed, and poked Pete's bartskull tattoo several times each before Pete got sick of it.

"Okay, OKAY!" Pete snapped, and pulled his shirt down rather sharply.

"Time for us to be going, then!" Scene Girl said, standing up, and dragging Emo Boy with her out the window.

Once they were a decent amount away, Scene Girl said confidentially to Emo Boy, "I'm just glad he was wearing underwear today... or else we both would've been even more fucked up than you are, now..."

Emo Boy nodded in agreement as the pair flew off towards their next adventure.



Episode Three: Your Face WILL Stay That Way

A bright light depicting a bleeding heart being cut by a Unicorn shone against the clouds. Within mere moments, two shadowy figures flashed across the bright disc.

At the source of the light was a mega-powered flashlight being held by an extremely jittery and extremely thin guitarist. His eyes were ringed with fantastical makeup, and he was wearing extremely old-fashioned, yet somehow modern clothes.

"You lit?" an overly cheerful voice asked from behind him.

Ryan Ross jumped, and turned the flashlight on the very super heroes he had been trying to summon. They stood side by side, as different as night and day. Even as different as black and white, which sort of made sense, since one was wearing all black, and the other was dressed in various bright colors.

"Scare me out of my pants, why dontcha!" Ryan asked, clutching theatrically at his heart.

"I wouldn't mind..." Scene Girl said, staring at him. Emo Boy elbowed her in the side, and cleared his throat.

"Yes, the light! So what did you want?" Scene Girl asked, blushing.

"It's actually Brendon... Well, you'd better see him for yourself." Ryan led Emo Boy inside, with Scene Girl trailing after them like a lovesick puppy.

When they got to Panic! At the Disco's dressing room, Emo Boy paled. "Scene Girl... don't look. You'll be too euuugh to be your happy, annoying self..." he blocked the doorway from his companion.

"Emo-ey! That's bull, I wanna see!" Scene Girl cried, worming her way around Emo Boy. "Whatever, there's nothing he..." she sank to the ground, her eyes glazing over.

"Shit, not again..." Emo Boy muttered.

"Okay, quick. Does anyone have a Sidekick?" Emo Boy peered around at the rock stars in the room.

Ryan reluctantly pulled out his Sidekick under his piercing glare. Emo Boy hurriedly shoved the compact electronic device into Scene Girl's hands. Within moments, she was typing away on it, before finally handing it back to Ryan.

"Sorry. That happens all the time... Her only weakness is the first sight of a half-naked guy. It's like her Kryptonite. The only thing to make it better is a sidekick. It's really o--" Emo Boy explained to the confused people in front of him.

"Okay, enough of my secrets! What's the problem here?" Scene Girl cut off Emo Boy.

"Well... Brendon... He was making funny faces at a camera again. And, well... You can see the results." Spencer said. He was hanging upside-down on a couch, and was playing imaginary drums in midair. He had ditched his pants somewhere, or had not yet put them on, and was wearing black, flamingo covered boxers along with his ruffled shirt and vest.

"Besides, we need to be onstage in five minutes, and Brendon can't move his face to sing." Jon pointed out. Brendon nodded vigorously, and tried to move his mouth from its vicious scowl.

"Oh, is that all?" Scene Girl asked, tossing her hair back. "In that case, just pay us our normal fee, and we'll make it better!"

"Fee?" All four band members asked at once. Well... Brendon made a noise, but it counted.

Emo Boy rolled his eyes. "Here we go again..."

"Yes! We come with a small service charge! Autographs! One each, fork 'em over!" Scene Girl grinned, and passed around her notebook and a Sharpie. The boys of Panic! signed it, and handed it back to her.

"Excellent!" Scene Girl exclaimed. She stepped up to Brendon, and prodded at his face for a moment.

"Need some help?" Emo Boy asked, an amused almost-smile on his face.

"No!" Scene Girl prodded Brendon's face for a few more seconds. Then her shoulders slumped. "Okay, yes..."

Emo Boy walked over, and breathed in Brendon's face, which immediately became normal looking.

Brendon moved his jaw around, and then punched the air. "I'm cured!"

"Uh huh! Now, get your clothes on, and have a great show!" Scene Girl grinned, waved at them, and dove out the window, followed at a slower pace by Emo Boy


Episode Four: When Sluts Attack
Note: You'll be ashamed of Emo Boy... I know I was

"Scene Girl, I hear the utterly disheartened cries of a girl in trouble." Emo Boy said one evening as they were partaking in their evening ice cream sandwich break.

"Do you think that we should help her... I mean, them... or leave them to face almost certain peril?"

Scene Girl sighed. "But... but... my sammich!" she looked at Emo Boy with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." He let his breath out in a huff. "You can take your damn ice cream with you. But let's go!"

"Fine, Mr. Bossy Weisenheimer..." Scene Girl grumbled. She put her cape back on, and jumped out the window after the already far-away Emo Boy.

She finally caught up with her friend just as he landed before a pair of blondes. "Good evening ladies. How may I... I mean, we... help you?" he asked in a silky voice.

"Well... we WERE going swimming... but we both lost our friendship bracelets." Keltie Colleen said, and tossed her absurdly dry hair over her shoulder. Her friend Ashlee Simpson nodded in agreement.

"They got caught in the drain, and we can't get them free..." Ashlee simpered.

"Oh, shoot. Past your bedtime, Emo BOY!" Scene Girl glared at Keltie and Ashlee.

"Scene Girl... just give me a fucking hand already..." Emo Boy snapped at her.

"No. I refuse to help you jack off." Scene Girl glared coldly at him.

"What's the matter with you, Scene Girl? You're always so bubbly and happy!" Emo Boy asked his bestest friend.

"Because I fucking don't like them." She growled, pointing at Ashlee and Keltie.

"Why? They haven't done anything to you!"

"Besides be whores, and wastes of space. So I'm not going to help them get their uber retarded 'friendship bracelets' back. SO THERE!" She shouted at the annoying blondes who were comparing tan lines.

She bent her knees, and took off straight into the air. She then zoomed down, and shoved Ashlee and Keltie into the water. They screamed like no tomorrow, and matching wooden half hearts floated up out of the fronts of their shirts, trailing short cords.

"Looks like you never actually lost your fucking bracelets. Come on, Emo Boy." Scene Girl laughed at the floating bitches, and grabbed Emo Boy by the back of his cape, and dragged him upwards.

"Call me!" he mouthed at Pete and Ryan's girlfriends. They giggled, and waved goodbye to him, before getting into a splash fight.


Episode Five: My Watercolor Romance!!
Note: We are not forcing Frerard. We KNOW they're not gay but it makes a good storyline. And yes, we also know Pansy is featured in this episode...

"This is despicable!" Scene Girl exclaimed, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop PC.

"The current state of the human race?" Emo Boy asked, his own eyes glued to the news, which was flashing information about yet another war.

"No, silly! Frank Iero and Gerard Way are fighting! Ferard is having relationship issues!"

Emo Boy blinked at her. "Does this mean we have to go on another mission?"

"Well, of COURSE! It's Ferard for goodness sakes!" She stood up from her computer, and pranced over to Emo Boy.

"One of these days, you're going to kill me on one of these missions, you know..." he told her, as he stood up.

"Okay, okay, now out the window!" Scene Girl cried, and shoved him out the portal.

"You never let me say anything onstage anymore!" Frank Iero shouted at the lead singer of My Chemical Romance.

"Yeah, well you play off key! Which completely fucks me up!" Gerard defended himself against an evil glare from Frank.

"How can I play off key!?! I tune Pansy every night before we go on!"

"Well, maybe you have bad pitch!" Gerard poked Frank in the chest.

"Maybe your MOM has bad pitch!" Frank shouted, standing on his tiptoes so that he could be fairly eye to eye with Gerard, who gasped, and drew back.

"Oh, no, he DI-IN'T!" Gerard snapped his fingers in a Z formation at Frank.

"Wait... what about Mom?" Mikey asked Gerard as he walked by.

"Frank said that she has bad pitch!" Gerard whined to his younger brother.

"It's true, though, Gee... Mom is a really bad singer." Mikey pointed out to Frank's happiness.

"But that's beside the point! Let me at 'im!" Gerard lunged at Frank, only to be stopped by a teenage girl with bright, multicolored hair.

"Get out of my way!" he growled.

"No! Emo Boy, back me up on this!" Emo Boy shrugged, and motioned at her to continue. Scene Girl sighed in aggravation.

"Whatever. But you're still friends! Whether you are, in fact, gay lovers or not, you're still friends first and foremost!" Scene Girl shouted at Gerard and Frank, who both shrank down a little.

"Now, I want you to tell each other what the issue is! The REAL issue, not some retarded 'oh, you're off pitch!' Because you both help make My Chemical Romance what it is!"

Frank and Gerard glared at each other, as if each was daring the other to say something. There was silence.

Suddenly, Bob spoke up. "I think that we're all a little bit sick of each other right now... that, and Gee found Frank using his toothbrush to brush a giant plastic dinosaur's teeth." Frank laughed at something none of the rest of them could see.

"Frank, you're funny!" Scene Girl said. Frank grinned.

Gerard stomped his foot. "So everyone laughs with him! He never gets in trouble for anything stupid, but when I do something that's not considered all that cool or intelligent, I get a scolding! It's just not fair!" he crossed his arms, and pouted.

"Is that IT?" Emo Boy asked. Gerard nodded.

"You're acting like children. The both of you!" Emo Boy gave them both his patented Hypno-Glare. Gerard and Frank both stiffened, and then got dreamy look on their faces.

"You WILL get along." Emo Boy told them.

"We will get along..." they chorused.

"You'll hug and make up! And a kiss! I wanna see a kiss!" Scene Girl grinned.

Gerard and Frank hugged, and gave each other a quick kiss on the lips. Scene Girl clapped, and the two previously hypnotized members of My Chemical Romance snapped out of their trances and high fived each other.

"See? That wasn't so hard!" Scene Girl grinned, and took out her infamous notebook. "Now, it's payment time! Sign away!" She handed the book to Frank, and it slowly worked its way around to all five band members.

"Thanks for solving our problems, Emo Boy and Scene Girl. We really just need to keep Frankie away from everything. Or keep an eye on him." Ray said, and mussed his fro-like hair.

"It's out job! Come, Emo Boy, I need to go surf the web!" Emo Boy nodded, and followed Scene Girl out the window, after waving back to the wildly waving members of My Chemical Romance.

Episode Six: St-st-stuttering Problems

"So we meet again..." A girl with wildly colored hair and large sunglasses said to a famous rock star.

"So it would seem," he said with his patented smirk.

"Whoo... Now, can we get this over with so that I can go back to sleep?" A sad, yet angry looking boy asked the two, as the steadily swelling bad western music stopped with a screech.

"Hey, when did we get a soundtrack, Emo Boy?" Scene Girl asked her near-catatonic companion, who shrugged in response.

"Meh. Must've been when our creator drew us. She still needs to put that up, by the way..."

"Duh! Anyway, what's your illin', Petrude?" Scene Girl removed her sunglasses, as she was inside, and she couldn't see very well with them on.

"It's not actually me, this time..." Pete said.

Scene Girl shook a finger in his face. "Of course it's not! Not EVERYTHING'S about you, ya know! Friggin' egomaniac!"

"It's actually Patrick..." Pete pouted, pointing into the other room.

"What's wrong with Hatrack?" Scene Girl asked, her eyes going to chibi proportions.

"He's on record mode." Pete grimaced as he fluffed the back of his hair.

"BROKEN record, more like." Fall Out Boy's drummer, Andy said, walking over and slipping his thick-rimmed black glasses back on.

"JESUS!" Scene Girl exclaimed, and launched herself at the truly Jesus-esque man.

"Okay, who let the fangirl in?" Andy pretty much ignored the super hero wrapped around his waist as her kept walking towards Pete.

"She's going to help Trick. Her, and this sad boy..." Pete said.

"EMO Boy," he corrected. "My name is Emo Boy. Scene Girl, pull yourself together. We have work to do."

Scene Girl reluctantly let go of Andy, and sat on the floor for a moment before springing up. "So, what's wrong with Patrick Stump?"

Neither of the members of Fall Out Boy said a word as they looked as one to a door into what appeared to be a practice hall. Scene Girl edged towards the door, dragging Emo Boy with her.

"St-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st..." Patrick Stump stuttered, as he kept playing the same note on his guitar that he had slung around himself.

Joe was watching him, looking like he was a mixture of scared and high. "We were playing Dance, Dance, and this just... happened. He hasn't stopped for at least the last hour."

Scene Girl dropped to her knees, grief stricken. Emo Boy only rolled his eyes, and delivered a swift kick to Patrick's rear end.

The stuttering immediately stopped.

"Ow..." Patrick said, rubbing his bum. "What'd you have to kick me so hard for?" Emo Boy shrugged.

Scene Girl grinned, and gave the mysterious viewing device that was watching them a thumbs up. "Great teamwork, Emo-ey!" Scene Girl said, even though the only thing she had done was to sit on the ground whimpering. Emo Boy nodded as he went back to him usual quiet self.

"Alright, Mr. Trick, if that happens again, just give us a call, and we'll be right there!" Scene Girl said. Patrick nodded, and gave her a quick hug, which made Scene Girl blush.

Emo Boy cleared his throat.

"Ah, that's right!" Scene Girl said. "Our payment! Pass this around, if you'd please!" She was practically jumping up and down in anticipation of three new signatures to add to her collection. The notebook worked its way around until it got to Pete, who groaned.

"Do I HAVE to sign again?" he whined.

"Yes!" Scene Girl trilled. Pete sighed, signed it, and handed it back to her.

"Alright, now go. We need to practice." Andy said, and practically shoved Emo Boy and Scene Girl out the window, before slamming it shut.

"I think we scared him a little bit..." Scene Girl said.

"A bit?" Emo Boy asked her. She grinned and nodded. He rolled his eyes, and began flying towards their lair. After a moment, Scene Girl took off after her friend, doing random loop-de-loops as she followed him home


Episode Seven: I'm A REAL Boy!!

Scene Girl crept Mission Impossible style down the deserted hallway in the empty building, humming the theme song under her breath. Emo Boy followed her, just plodding down the hallway. They passed through a door into a room that gleamed with burnished stainless steel.

"We're in a completely empty building, Scene Girl. We aren't going to get caught. That is, if neither of us trips the alarms..." Emo Boy said, stopping in front of a machine, while Scene Girl dodged behind a pillar.

Scene Girl crept over to the console Emo Boy was standing in front of. "What do you think that thing does?" she asked him, pointing to a shining silver globe-like thing in front of them.

"I dunno... But I wouldn't touch it if I we... NO!" he shouted as Scene Girl reached towards the shiny globe, her eyes wide. Emo Boy reached towards her hand, but tripped, and was unable to stop his momentum as he squished both of their hands against the cold metal globe.

Time passed. It was boring, because the only movement in the room was a fly buzzing around, and our heroes were on the ground, passed out.

Scene Girl stirred, and stretched in a very girly way. Emo Boy was already sitting up, rubbing his eyes. His knuckles came away blackened by eyeliner.

"That was some shock..." Scene Girl said, opening her eyes. "Emo Boy?" she asked. He grunted to show that he was responsive, although he was still half-asleep. He is so NOT a morning person.

"Emo Boy, why can't I see out of my left eye?" Scene Girl looked down, and squeaked in panic. She frantically ran her hands over her chest, which had turned flat, and was now covered in black cloth, instead of the pink unicorn print shirt that she had put on earlier that morning.

"I'm a fucking boy! We switched bodies!" Scene Girl squeaked, panicking slightly. She ran her fingers through her... er... his shorter, black hair that was so unfamiliar feeling on her head.

"Ooh, your hair is soft, Emo Boy..." she muttered. Emo Boy paid her no mind, and focussed on the more important issue.

"We did?" Emo Boy asked through Scene Girl's pink-chapsticked mouth. He pulled the front of Scene Girl's unicorn-print shirt away from the body he was currently wearing, and looked inside. He came up a second later, wearing a smirk. "I guess we did switch bodies..."

"Stop looking at me!" Scene Girl shouted at Emo Boy, blushing madly.

"Sorry..." He mumbled, hiding behind Scene Girl's garrulous, brightly colored hair.

Scene Girl stood up, and started pacing. It was her usual combination of pacing and silly dancing, but since she looked like Emo Boy, it was pretty ridiculous. When her back was turned, Emo Boy peeked down the front his shirt, and mouthed 'thank you!' at the ceiling, before taking yet another peek.

"I think that the thing to do is to go home, since there's obviously nothing here. And then we should talk to someone who knows what the fuck is going on. Like my mom. And stop squishing my butt!" Scene Girl snapped at Emo Boy.

"Sorry... I've just... never been a girl before. Don't say that you're not even a little bit curious about what I look like naked." Emo Boy said.

Scene Girl blushed and sputtered for a moment before turning her back angrily on Emo Boy.

"I'm sorry, Scene Girl, I wasn't being completely serious. I might've even been joking a little." Emo Boy said, flipping his brightly colored hair over his left eye, where it usually resided when he was in his own body, with his own hair.

Scene Girl sighed. "It's okay, Emoey. I'm just soooooo confused! I mean, should the author be referring to me as a 'he' or a 'she'? Are we now 'The Adventures of Emo Girl and Scene Boy'?" Scene Girl (Boy?) stomped his (her?) foot.

"Don't..." Emo Boy trailed off as a smelly spray of anti-ghost foam sprayed from the walls. Emo Boy spat out a mouthful. "...touch that. Great Job, Scene Girl," he said sarcastically.

"Whatever. I need a shower." She muttered, and took off out the open skylight down the hall that they had entered through earlier.

Emo Boy glanced down his shirt one more time before taking off after her to go home, and have a shower.


Episode Eight: Sex Changes
Emo Boy will still be referred to as Emo Boy, and as 'he'. Scene Girl will still be referred to as 'she'. It is up to you to keep it all straight in your head.

A few days later, Emo Boy was curled into a fetal position in the corner of his room, muttering about everything being 'too pink.' Even though he was sitting in his all-black room, he was still wearing Scene Girl's body, and thus her clothes.

"What's too pink?" Scene Girl asked, popping into the doorway of Emo Boy's room. A towel was draped over her head, and she wasn't wearing a shirt. She had quickly gotten used to being a boy, although all of Emo Boy's black stuff was depressing her.

"All of your stuff is so... bright. The colors are killing me." Emo Boy muttered into his arm.

"So? Wear your clothes." Scene Girl suggested, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. She continued toweling her hair dry.

"My clothes don't fit anymore. Besides, even your underwear is colorful." Emo Boy twitched.

"So? Yours is all black. You don't see me complaining." Scene girl flipped her head over to get the last of the towelable water out of it, and took the towel off. The telltale scent of hair dye rolled off of her head in waves. She had dyed Emo Boy's hair bright, shocking pink. The change from the black that normally framed Emo Boy's body's face to the bright pink was so shocking that Emo Boy sat gaping at Scene Girl for a moment, before he managed to speak.

"What did you do to my HAIR?!?" He finally managed to say. His jaw was almost lying on the floor.

Scene Girl fluffed it out with her fingers. "You don't like it?" She asked.

"It's PINK!"

"I told you to stop touching my chest. You didn't listen." Scene Girl said nonchalantly. She leaned over Emo Boy's dresser to apply a thick layer of eyeliner, using his mirror.

"Is THAT what this is about? Me touching your chest?" Emo Boy asked Scene Girl, who nodded.

"Like this?" he asked, an evil grin on his face. He reached up, and grabbed one of Scene Girl's body's boobs.

"Stop that!" Scene Girl snapped.

"No way. I'll stop just long enough to take a shower, though." Emo Boy said, standing up, and heading over to his bed.

"Don't stare at my body while you're in there. Pervert." Scene Girl scolded him.

"Now, that I can't promise." Emo Boy said with a wink. "Go play with yourself, or something."

Emo Boy grabbed something off of his bed, and headed towards the bathroom.

Scene Girl glared after him, before throwing on one of his plain black t-shirts and flying to the nearest Hot Topic.

"I need something REALLY colorful." She said to the nearest sales guy.

He gave her an odd look. "We just got in a shipment of new Jeffree Star shirts. Is this a present for your girlfriend, or something?" The sales guy asked.

Scene Girl laughed at him. "Fuck no. It's for me."

"Alright..." the sales guy said, brushing off the weirdness of it all, and leading Scene Girl over to the display of bright pink and blue tee shirts.

"Sweet!" Scene Girl exclaimed, and picked out a few shirts, before going to check out.

An hour later when she got home, Scene Girl was wearing one of her new, bright shirts that would be a little too big for her normal body, but were a little small while she was in Emo Boy's body. She was also wearing a large pair of sunglasses, and sipping a Vanilla Frappachino from Starbucks.

"Emo-ey! I'm home!" Scene Girl shouted as she walked in the door. She wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of hair dye.

"Still smells bad... icky..." she muttered as she headed towards her room to drop off her purchases, only to run smack into Emo Boy, wearing black lingerie, and jet-black, freshly dyed hair. She gaped at him for a minute, before squeaking unintelligibly.

"You... you... my body... my HAIR!" Once she finished, no more intelligible words came out.

"Do you like it?" Emo Boy asked her, but ignored her when she shook her head. "I figured that you needed a new look. I think it looks rather nice on you." He stepped back, revealing that he was also wearing black stilettos. "Apparently you decided the same for me... Too bad it's not staying that way." Scene Girl glared at him, and stormed into her room.

Ten minutes later, Emo Boy knocked on the door.

"Scene Girl, come on. We have a mission to do, we need to save a kitten in a tree." Contrary to popular belief, Emo Boy and Scene Girl saved more than famous rock stars. They did positive things for the community, as well.

Scene Girl opened the door to her room, busy tying on her Hello Kitty towel slash cape slash thing. She had changed out of Emo Boy's pants, and was now wearing a pair of her own. They were much tighter, and it was obvious that she had decided to go commando, instead of having horrific amounts of VPL. Her hipbones (really Emo Boy's) were clearly visible above the top of her pants and through the thin shirt she was wearing.

Emo Boy shrugged, and fastened his black cape around his neck, trying not to mind the cool breeze that blew over almost his entire body. He followed Scene Girl out the window, like always, and to where a small kitten was meowing pitifully in a tree.

"Awww... poor thing..." Scene Girl said, looking up at the tiny cat.

"I'll get it..." Emo Boy volunteered glumly. He attempted to get up the tree, but his stilettos and lack of clothing made it impossible to climb the tree.

"No, you won't. See, underwear are hard to actually do stuff in. Pervert." Scene Girl stuck her tongue out at Emo Boy, and attempted to climb the tree herself, failing miserably as she discovered that wearing tight jeans as a boy is not a good idea, and that too-small shirts are extremely uncomfortable.

"See? Not so easy being a boy, is it?" Emo Boy asked, holding out a hand to help his friend up.

"I suppose not. Have you discovered that it's not easy being a girl?" Scene Girl asked him as she pulled herself up.

At that moment, the kitten fell, mewing, into Scene Girl's arms. It was wearing a collar that had a tag that said only 'Wonder Kitty' on it and a little black and blue polka dotted cape.

"I think that this should be our new sidekick!" Scene Girl cried, cuddling the kitten to her cheek.
"I suppose... IF we can't find its home." Emo Boy said reluctantly. He grinned, and chuckled. "By the way, being a girl is really easy." He put his hands on his chest.

Scene Girl rolled her eyes. "Wait till it turns that time of the month." She said, and took off into the air, cuddling young Wonder Kitty.

"Wait... what?" Emo Boy called after her. "Scene Girl! Wait!" He cried, before taking off after her at top speed.


Episode Nine: Gabe's Perfectly Purple Hoodie

"Scene Girl!" Emo Boy called from his bedroom. "Scene Girl, I know that one of your powers is getting guys' pants off, but does that mean that you can't get yours ON?" He called through the apartment. Scene Girl appeared in the doorway, toweling her hair dry. It was once again morning in their apartment, and they had an important assignment today.

Scene Girl laughed at him. "Oh, you'll see in about three days... in the meantime, wear these," she said. She tossed a different pair of pants at him from the drawer. Emo Boy pulled off the offending pants, and pulled on the ones Scene Girl had tossed at him.

"So, what're we doing today?" Emo Boy asked.

"We are meeting Gabe Saporta, and helping him find a new purple hoodie. Apparently, they're really hard to find, if you want the right shade..."

"Wait... Gabe lost his hoodie?" Emo Boy asked. He had heard waaaay too much about Gabe Saporta's hoodie to not know what a big deal this would be.

Scene Girl shook her head. "No, it just mysteriously died. Gabe called the Hotline about half an hour ago, and he was really upset. I promised that we would buy him ice cream, and help him find a new hoodie."

"Oh. Well, let's get going, then." Emo Boy said, pulling on a pair of Scene Girl's combat boots.

"Of course!" Scene Girl hopped out the window of Emo Boy's bedroom, and quickly flew to the mall, with Emo Boy trailing behind her, so that she couldn't see what he was doing with her body on the way there.

Scene Girl landed in the food court; and scanned the surrounding area for Gabe's dark head, and quickly spotted him. He was sitting next to a potter palm tree with his head in his hands, and an extremely ratty old hoodie on.

"Awwww... Are you okay, Gabe?" Scene Girl asked, hugging him.

Gabe shook his head. "I want my hoodie back to the way it was. This one has too many holes." And indeed, there were too many holes. In fact, it was more hole than hoodie.

"It's okay, Gabe... we'll find you a new one! And anyways, maybe it was just your hoodie's time to go." Scene Girl said. At this, Gabe Saporta, the lead singer of Cobra Starship, burst into tears.

"I... I don't WANT a new... h-h-hoodie! I want my old one ba-aaaaaaack!" Gabe cried, grabbing Scene Girl around the middle, and crying into her shoulder.

"Shhhhh... We'll find a new one, you'll see!" Scene Girl said, rocking gently back and forth while rubbing Gabe's back.

"Just so you know, you look really, really gay right now." Emo Boy piped in.

"Oh, just because I have your body now means that I'm a guy? No fucking way, dude. No fucking way. I like being a girl, and we are soooo finding a way to turn back." Scene Girl snapped at Emo Boy while cradling Gabe.

Emo Boy put his hands up in defense. "Hey! Hey! No need to get snappy, I'm just making observations."

Gabe looked up at Emo Boy to see where all of the noise was coming from. "Ooh... pretty...." he said.

"Dude... no offense, but I don't swing that way." Emo Boy said.

"And you just sounded like a lesbian." Scene Girl taunted Emo Boy, who rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Are we getting ice cream? Or are we just going to stay here and sing 'Guy Love' from Scrubs?" he asked the two cuddling guys.

"Yay! Ice Cream!" Gabe shouted, shooting straight to his feet.

~IceCream~

"Now, where did you buy your original hoodie?" Scene Girl asked Gabe as she licked some rainbow sprinkles off of her soft-serve strawberry ice cream cone.

"Uhm... A little shop in Chicago? I really don't know, but it was about three years ago, and the shop was going out of business. So there's no way in hell we'll find it here in California." Gabe mumbled around a mouthful of his Pistachio ice cream.

"Maybe I should..." Emo Boy hinted at Scene Girl. He had taken about half of his ice cream so far, and was going in for more.

"No, Emo Boy. It's too risky. Besides, it would have to be me, because I've currently got your body and your powers."

"Yeah, but Scene Girl... we could get this over with so easily!" Emo Boy argued.

"But then we have to walk really, really, REALLY fast! And I don't wanna!" Scene Girl protested, but with met with such a glare from Emo Boy that she shut the hell up.

"Do it." He growled. "Do it, or else I'm telling Gabe what picture is your computer background."

Scene Girl paled visibly. "You wouldn't."

"Wanna bet?"

"Agh! You are so MEAN!" Scene Girl licked off some more sprinkles, and handed her cone to Emo Boy to hold. "I'll do it... just don't drop my ice cream."

Emo Boy grinned and watched as Scene Girl went as still as a statue for several minutes.
...
...
...
Gabe started to get impatient, and waved a hand in front of the completely still Scene Girl's face. She didn't show any sign of responding, and Emo Boy allowed himself a little chuckle at Gabe's boredom.
...
...
...
"It's no use!" Scene Girl protested as she suddenly started moving again.

"How far did you check?" Emo Boy asked her.

"Continental United States. I can't find a brand new purple hoodie anywhere!" Scene Girl sighed.

"You mean... there's no purple hoodie out there for me?" Gabe asked. He looked like a little lost puppy for a moment as tears threatened to spill out his eyes and down his face.

"We'll find one Gabe, I promise!" Scene Girl sighed. She knew that that was pretty much an impossibility, because she had just used Emo Boy' power of finding things to try to find a new hoodie for Gabe. But it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

Almost two hours later, Emo Boy was starting to get really sick of the people in the mall staring at him, just because he was wearing a cape.

"Okay, this is the third time we've been through here. There's no purple hoodies!" Emo Boy said. He was walking backwards so that he could talk to Scene Girl and Gabe. Scene Girl had been hanging on every word out of Gabe's mouth, and the attention from anyone had started to perk Gabe up significantly.

"Like that one?" Scene Girl asked. She stopped in the middle of the mall, grinning from ear to ear as she pointed to a hoodie that was the perfect shade of purple that was hanging in the window of a store called Herkimer's.

"It's the same store I bought my first hoodie in!" Gabe marveled as he walked up to the storefront, and pressed his nose to the glass.

"Awesome! Let's go find you a new one!" Scene Girl moshed where she stood. The idea of a new hoodie for Gabe had brightened her day to the extreme.

Scene Girl and Gabe Saporta linked arms, and skipped into Herkimer's Hoodies together. The store was deserted, so Gabe rang the bell on the counter so that someone would come help them. There were only about ten hoodies on display, and a long counter blocked the majority of the small shop from customers.

"Gabe Saporta, size medium Perfectly Purple zip-up hoodie." A mysterious lady said, as she walked out of the back room and saw Gabe standing there.

"Uhm... uh huh... That was my hoodie..." Gabe mumbled under the woman's gaze. "How did you remember?" he asked.

"Dear, I remember every hoodie that I've ever sold. I'm guessing that you need a new one?" she asked as she pulled out a box. Gabe nodded dumbly as the woman lifted the lid off of the box, and pulled some tissue paper away, revealing brand new hoodie that was the exact same shade of Gabe's current hoodie. Gabe nodded dumbly once more. "That'll be seven ninety nine, dear." The lady told Gabe, who handed her a ten.

"That was odd..." Emo Boy muttered to Scene Girl as they walked out of the store.

Scene Girl nodded. "It reminded me of when Harry went into Olivander's to get a wand in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone..."

"Ehn. It was probably nothing. We need to get Gabe back to his bus before he needs to leave, though." Emo Boy said.

"Hey, can we fly back to the bus?" Gabe asked. He was hugging the box holding his hoodie.

"Hell, why not?" Scene Girl said, grabbing him under one arm as Emo Boy grabbed him under the other, and they took off to Cobra Starship's tour bus.

"What the?!? Gabe! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Ryland said, jumping out of the bus as Emo Boy, Gabe, and Scene Girl landed.

"I got a new hoodie! See?" Gabe said, pulling the hoodie out of the box, and holding it out.

"Sorry to bust your bubble, dude, but that's not going to fit you. It's a small." Ryland said, examining the tag. Gabe's face fell about a thousand stories. "Besides, you don't need a new one."

"What? Yeah, I do, this one's all holey!" Gabe pouted.

"No, you don't. I stole your hoodie last night, and replaced it with that one so that I could wash it for once." Ryland leaned into the bus, and bulled out a freshly laundered purple hoodie. GABE'S freshly laundered purple hoodie.

"Oh. Well then, here, Scene Girl. You can have this one, because it's not gonna fit me." Gabe handed Scene Girl the purple hoodie he was holding before pouncing on his old one.

"Thanks for the help, you guys, we'll send you your autographs in the mail, but we really need to get going, this dweeb made us late." Ryland said, pulling Gabe into the bus and shutting the door before the bus pulled away.

"I think I'm in love..." Scene Girl said, cuddling her new hoodie to her chest.

"Come on..." Emo Boy said, rolling his eyes as he took off into the air, dragging Scene Girl with him.

10/22/2007

this is me not smiling

okay, (i shouldn't really start a sentence with "okay", alright, but still), that was a lot of commas.

RIGHT.

now.

this is me in between depression and mania and so this is a SUCKFEST.

(the door just slammed and i jumped. i do NOT like that feeling.)

-

whale.

i feel like one.

a beached one.

a helpless beached one on the verge of insanity.

.
.
.
.
.
.

-insert whale noises-

-

it's raining and i hate it. the bloody weather and the bloody people and the bloody dinner.

and OH blow it all.

i'd like to swear but i'm trying not to be hypocritical even though we all are actually underneath it all and SO this is me in between depression and mania AND digressing into the stupid, stupid, stupid little things.

i need a break.

10/19/2007

yummy

i love MARC ST. JAMES!



because you know he makes you smile like that.

and the Dolls...



...because they know what rock love is.

10/16/2007

in my pants

"type the name of the last song you listened to and add "in my pants" at the end of it."

I Never Knew You Were So Much Fun in my pants :)
A Pity Youth Doesnt Last in my pants :D
YOUNG AND RESTLESS IN MY PANTS!!!!
SUMMER LOVE IN MY PANTS hahahahhahahh!
Ride My Pony in my pants HAHAHAHHA
Come & Get Me in my pants... hahaha
World War 3 in my pants
Snow in my pants. ROFL.
Safe And Sound in my pants hahahah:)
When The Band Goes Marching By in my pants. wtf.
Cherrypop in my pants..lol
Jump Around in my pants - lol!
Free Bird in my pants. ROFL.
Hide And Seek, in my pants...
Face Down in my pants LOL!
Twirk Something in my pants bahahaha (:
Tidal Wave in my pants!!
Do It Well in my pants =O LOL...
Wish I Had An Angel in my pants
Emergency in my pants - ROFL!
Thank God I Found You in my pants!!
The Worst Is Yet To Come in my pants. LMAO
I Can't Read Lips Unless They're Touching Me in my pants - niiiice
The Feast in my pants ; ]
I Like It in my pants (hehehe)
Out Tonight in my pants
I Shot The Sheriff in my pants. LOL
Perfect Situation in my pants.

these are actual results by the way. ;)

10/15/2007

for once, a good cause

i've been telling people this,


PETA2.com


and also this,


sorry for the terrible quality. but hey, it's a good cause anyway.

and yes, i know it's illegal to write on buses, -giggles-, but it's definitely better than "I LOVE NICOLEZZZ" or whatever crap other people write.

so. there.

10/14/2007

delicious

who wants to go to my imaginary
birthday party?

message me if you're interested.

we'll have imaginary cake, pin the
tail on the non-existant donkey and
have imaginary fun!

xoxo as always.
peas and carrots.
Lizz.


-

um, yeah.

okay, so i don't have anything else to say and so i post my bulletins. :)

well i went out today. with Steph, Faith, Marcus, Matt and my brother. Gabe's been nicer to me all of a sudden.

we were meant to go with Vanessa and Jerlynn (Sarah couldn't come because she had to play bass at a wedding! -pokes her-) but then we split up because they wanted to go with Tabi, Germaine and the like to Fairyland.

i think they'll be denied entry though. backstage passes don't work in Fairyland, no matter how awesome the show.

so we blah-ed around and got to Takashimaya to get lunch. (t'was fish, the pescatarian in me speaks!)

and we saw an invite-only fashion showcase, with a catwalk and all. (freeloaders! freeloaders!) male models have it so much easier than female ones. it isn't fair.

ZARA'S STILL SELLING THE HOODIE I WANT! -dances around Matt-
YOU OWE ME! YOU OWE ME!

okay. i discovered i'm still very child-like. i dragged them into this toy store and i got a pen with a butterfly-looking bug thing that wobbles on the top of a pen and this cute glittery lipstick, it's brand IS MY NAME.

LIZZ - MADE IN HOLLAND or something like that, i kid you not.

whoo! then we walked to The Heeren and blah. mr Chong made me try skinny jeans (GIRL PANTS) against my protests and Steph and Faith both agreed that girl pants look good on me but i begged to differ and said my thighs looked fat.

maybe i just have a bad body image or whatchamacallit.

ah. it was a good day.

10/12/2007

we had the best time at your party, the wife and I thank you very much

1. How tall are you barefoot?
- 5"2. or 5"9 with shoes.

2. Have you ever smoked?
- hookah.

3. Do you own a gun?
- you'd better run.

4. Do you hate someone right now?
- hate is a strong word. why can't we say, "have EXTREME dislike for..."

5. Do you get nervous?
- about?

6. What do you think of hotdogs?
- "we couldn't think of a better use for these spare chicken parts, so here's our new invention, THE WIENER."

7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
- all of them.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
- whatever.

9. Can you do push ups?
- on the wall.

11.What' s your favorite piece of jewelry?
- idk. you can't count, by the way.

12. Do you like painkillers?
- oh yes! i NEEED to feel numb!! - foams at the mouth-

1 3 . What is your secret weapon to lure the opposite sex?
- i've got the russian nuclear bomb, don't tell anyone.

14. Do you own a knife?
- no, but does a chainsaw count?

15. Do you have H.I.V?
- righttt.

16. Name?
- Her Royal Highness.

17. Name 3 things u wanna do at this moment?
- go back to reading.

18. Name the last 3 things you have bought lately:
- time.

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
- marilyn. (manson)

20. What time did you wake up today?
- idk.

22. Current worry?
- i need to read.

23. Current hate?
- you.

24. Favorite place to be?
- sitting.

25. Least favorite place to be?
- with someone.

26. Where would you like to go now?
- here. and now.

27. Do you own slippers?
- no, and i'm proud of that.

28. What shirt are you wearing?
- white. butterflies courtesy of me.

29. Fav color?
- my favorite color is the cliche.

30. Last person u msged?
- of crs, ppl lk u cnt SPELL FOR CRAP.

31. Would you like to be a pirate?
- and a bottle of rum.

32. Last time you had an alcoholic drink?
- my bottle of rum!

33. What songs do you sing in the
shower?
- fame>infamy. rings true.

34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child?
- why do we have to fear as kids?

35. What's in your pocket/s right now?
- you.

36. Last thing that made you laugh?
- the irony.

37. Last thing that made you cry?
- the cruelty.

38. Worst injury you've ever had?
- i broke my eye.

39. Who is your loudest friend?
- Polly. (wants a cracker)

42. Who is your most silent friend?
- Flopsy. Mopsy. and Cottontail. not Peter.

43. Last movie you watched?
- Alexandretta and the Hendrix Experience go to the Grocery Store.

44. What is your favorite book?
- Oliver Twist. go educate yourself.

45 .What is your favorite chocolate?
- the kind without milk.

47. What song do/did you want played at your wedding?
- Neutral Milk Hotel. have the best songs for rock love.

48. What were you doing 12AM last night?
- thinking of (strangling) you.

49. What was the first thing you did
today?
- wonder.

50. What was the last thing you did the day before yesterday?
- tea with the queen.

10/09/2007

it's bleeding! it's bleeding!

equal parts morbid obsession and pure hilarity.

To Write Love On Her Arms

TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS.
by Jamie Tworkowski

Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.

She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.

The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.

She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.

I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.

Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.

She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.

On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.

Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.

10/06/2007

as the needle hit 120mph, all i could think about was how i didn't want my last meal to be a tomato-cheese sandwich

good bit
dad and i went to Swee Lee to check out the bass guitars, Fenders are heavy. "Squiers are a cheap version of Fenders.", said daddy dearetht. yeth, i lithp.

then hip-hop and band practice and all that jazz.

bad bit (and them some)
i fell asleep on the couch in church. people came to wake me up.

followed by a sudden crying jag that i couldn't get over. and i still haven't figured out why. sure as heck isn't PMS though.

i felt shittier than you could ever imagine. all through the sermony thing.

sudden laughter
sarah, faith and i had the ingenius idea to lock all the girls' bathroom stalls from the outside with a 5-cent coin.

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF A NICKEL.

further laughter (more maniacally)
edrik got curious. siska was there, very confused. i couldn't breathe. go figure. or ask me.

10/05/2007

Goth talk.

hey look, now it's a subculture!

10/04/2007

peripheral: not of central importance

1) my dog just got a haircut. he looks better than you.

2) dinner: raw tomatoes, steamed fish, ½ apple. go pescatarian!

3) myspace = infuriating.

4) Hayley Williams + Amanda Palmer + Debbie Harry (circa. Blondie) = fashion icon.

5) 8764124390 emails in your inbox isn't very nice to wake up to.

6) 37°C (99°F) in the shade. gasp. thus leading to my (accidental) act of pure lunacy: falling asleep in the middle of changing, butt naked on the bed, i kid you not.

7) total number of networking site invites: uh, 9 (deleted them all anyway).

8) Charlotte Sometimes. because they rock the nu-jazz scene like that.

9) i've finished Twilight. the day before yesterday actually. time flies when you're reading books.

10) war movies (eg. 300) nowadays are basically reading your script in front of a green screen. honestly, i have no respect for them now.

conclusion: -nothing to display-

10/02/2007

i must be bored.


William Moseley. ahahahahah.

some others just to be sure...


Shirley Manson i can handle, but JOHNNY DEPP?! THIS IS A RIP-OFF!


William Moseley yet again. STEVIE NICKS!?
y'know, i have no idea who those Japanese people are.

emo zombies

He just threw out all of his old clothes and all the music that he owns
It's time for his yearly change of style
And she speaks with a British accent
The keyboard is her favourite instrument

The drinks are cheap and vinyl's cool.
What do you think of my new shoes?
And you know me and I know you
Yeah, we do.
The drinks are cheap and vinyl's cool.
What do you think of my new shoes?
And you know me and I know you
Yeah, we do.

She used to love Reel Big Fish
And she decided she loved The Smiths, so she downloaded all their greatest hits
And he is learning the tambourine
He tells his band that's what they're missing.

And they both go to all of the same clubs
Where everyone takes all the same drugs
And talks about how they're so fucked up.
And they try to get up and dance
But they're all wearing spray on pants
It was a sight to be seen, I wonder who they'll be next week.

The drinks are cheap and vinyl's cool.
What do you think of my new shoes?
And you know me and I know you
Yeah, we do

sing that with your Aussie accent and have me screaming for more.

10/01/2007

i make shampoo mohawks in the shower

Jon: bad grades got you down?

Ryan: maybe your parents groundedyou this weekend.

Spencer: maybe you had to mow the lawn twice in one day because you didn't do it right the first time.

Brendon: girlfriend dumped your ass?

Jon: don't worry 'bout it, cos life goes on.

-

another conversation (with Stace)

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
YOU BELIEVED ME

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
when did i ever believe in you??

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
when i said i found hitler's testicle on ebay

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
WAHAHAHAHAHA

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
OH SHEESH

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
i really went to check it out ya know.

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
like, typed in "SPRAY ON PANTS"

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
and i got all these lists of green spray pants.

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
OMFG

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
i meant CLICK THE LINK

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
and watch the video titled SPRAY ON PANTS

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
wtf

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
GAHAHAHA

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
-poke-

the element i trace around the one i comply says:
okay okay im gullible!

Ninja Lizz (is looking for her sister Evelyn) says:
YES YOU ARE

(in case you're wondering, i told her i'd found Hitler's elusive testicle on eBay and i sent her a link and the cryptic message, "SPRAY ON PANTS")

-

so there you have it folks. proof that i AM feeling happy today. somewhat dampened by a CERTAIN SOMEONE (i doubt she'll even notice), but positive on the whole.

i think, the major contributor of my happinessy feeling is the fact that i FINALLY GOT STEPHANIE MEYER'S TWILIGHT TODAY. yes, Twilight. that piece of comteporary Gothic literature i've longed for for the longest time.

and i have to say, it's absolutely absorbing. i mean, i've finished four fifths of it in less than 3 hours. it HAS to be good.

i think i've found my new favorite book. or books. because this is a Twilight SERIES. and i gotta catch 'em all (!).

-akward pause-

okay that was lame.