msmoocow's Xanga

Friday, December 28, 2007

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 12:56:05 GMT

Does anybody know how to make all these entries un-public?

I hate life.

Fri, 11 May 2007 22:57:04 GMT

I don't blog anymore.

CURSE YOU, POST-SECONDARY EDUCATION.

If I'm not on Facebook after today, you can probably assume that I died alone, in a corner, with only my books and notes and lamps and coffee. Please don't bury me with any of those things.

That is all.

This is just so Vicki...

Tue, 06 Feb 2007 20:56:51 GMT

What Pin Up girl are you?

meoww, you're the sex kitten. One pose and you're on fire! No wonder you have all the men drooling over you ;)
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Peppermint Lane, Installment 2

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 10:17:13 GMT

Thing the first: This is being imported rather than posted directly to Facebook for two reasons. Reason one is the formatting. Facebook won't allow me to italicize and bold things And the second reason is poor Marlon, who is Facebookless.

Thing the second: This chapter is the result of a vague plot I'd been forming, and was written mostly in Oregon. There is nothing to read in my aunt's house except bodice-ripping heaving bosom novels and books where workaholic career women find love. So expect some influences.

Thing the third: Due to the influences cited above, some of the dialogue is laughably bad. I'm not going to apologize for any lapses in quality, though, because I HAD FUN, DAMN IT. Yay.

Thing the fourth: If you're reading this and are utterly confused (and a bit appalled at my terrible narrative skills), the Peppermint Lane universe was created by me and some friends. Don't ask how, it's a long story.

Thing the fifth: It's storytime!

---

Puppies, Vicki thought. Brad and Angelina adopt their fifth Indian child, and the biggest article in this goddamn magazine is about Jill Heller and her freakshow puppies?

The rest of the article was left unfinished as Vicki Keebler folded The National Enquirer up and fanned herself. The heat was stifling, and since Antonio, Johnny, and everyone else interesting was at work, she lay languidly on a lawn chair in Samantha Partridge's front yard, adjacent to her own. She relaxed, sipping freshly brewed iced tea (Samantha's recipe—she'd never quite gotten the hang of mixing anything other than alcohol) and tanning.

"Funny story," Vicki commented.

"What was?"

"Jill and her kittens," responded Vicki, reluctantly handing over her makeshift fan to Samantha. "It was all over the news last week."

"Oh, right. I'd heard about that. She's new to the neighborhood, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Moved in a couple of months ago. I haven't spoken to her much. Her cat annoys the hell out of me, though. It won't leave my gardener alone."

"Neither will you."

"Well, that's neither here nor there," Vicki coughed, turning over to let the sun color her front. "So…you talked to Jill lately?"

"Um…I made her a JELL-O mold the day she moved in, but she didn't answer her doorbell. So I haven't even met her yet."

"Too bad. She seems like a…lovely…person…lovely…yes…" Vicki's voice trailed off distractedly as her gaze landed on something across the street.

"Vicki? Are you all right?" Samantha's hand tentatively nudged Vicki's.

"Huh?" Her head snapped back towards her neighbor's

"You're drooling."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are. Here, let me clean this up for you." Samantha reached into her pockets and pulled out a moist towelette (here Vicki rolled her eyes—only Samantha would carry around moist towelettes, let alone wear a bathing suit with pockets), dabbing at Vicki's chin. "This happens to my daughter all the time."

"Trust me, there is nothing girlish going on in my head right now."

"What caught your eye, anyway?"

"That," Vicki stated, licking her lips. Her finger singled out a point of interest. A young man, possibly in his early twenties, was mowing the lawn. Under Vicki's lustful stare, he pushed the old-fashioned mower over the grass, pausing to wipe his sweaty brow with the hem of his t-shirt. A glimpse of toned, muscular flesh greeted the two women, and both sighed in appreciation.

"That's Jason Stone. He moved in a few weeks ago, I think."

"Do you know him?"

"Not directly. I wave when I see him, though. He tends to fall down a lot, but he seems okay."

"More than okay, don't you think?" Jason bent over to inspect his lawnmower, and Vicki tilted her head to appreciate the new angle. She set down her glass of tea and unfolded her legs. "I'm going in."

"Go for it," Samantha said, idly flipping the pages of Vicki's abandoned magazine.

Standing up and adjusting the straps of her two-piece bathing suit, she glanced back at her friend before gliding across the street.

"Hello," she purred as she reached her destination. She stepped forward and gave the man a lingering hug, making sure there was pelvic contact, and pulled back slowly.

"Hi," he chirped. "Do I know you?"

"Would you like to?"

"My name's Jason. Jason Stone."

"I'm Vicki Keebler." She searched his face for a sign, any telling detail that would show how much her flirtations were affecting him. But he just kept on nodding, with that annoyingly cheerful expression of his. Clearly, it was time to step up her game.

Jason smiled and said "Nice to meet you.

"My friend and I, we've just been sunbathing all day. It is incredibly hot, don't you think?" The last sentence escaped in a small moan as she pointed towards the yard she'd come from. Feigning fatigue, Vicki stretched her arms in a blissful yawn, sighing in satisfaction as her eyes slipped shut. She opened one eye to peek at him, He was slightly slack-jawed with a glazed-over look in his eye, and his expression was vacant, as if someone had hit him over the head with a heavy blunt object.

Perfect.

She arched a brow innocently. "Something the matter?"

"Huh?" He shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Yes—I mean, no—I mean…I don't know. Everything's fine."

"I'd be happy to take care of any problems you have," she purred.

Lucid now, he gave a nervous shrug. "Well…there is one thing…"

"Name it."

"Do you know her?" He pointed towards Samantha's lawn.

"She's a friend of mine, yeah. She lives in that house. Why do you ask?"

Jason scratched the back of his head, looking down. "Do you think you could introduce me?"

Christ, she'd known the guy for about ten minutes, and already he was looking at other women. If this were any other man, she'd be in his pants by now. Gritting her teeth against her irritation, she managed a wide, false grin.

"Oh, you don't want to bother her. She likes the peace and quiet."

He perked up. "So do I!"

"And she has a kid, so you see, she's not much of a partier."

"I love kids!"

Growing desperate, Vicki switched to another tactic. Stepping even closer and pressing her breasts against his arm, she murmured conspiratorially, "And…she hasn't been with a man in years…"

"Neither have I!" He paused. "Woman. Haven't been with a woman. I guess I just haven't found the right girl…" He trailed off, but Vicki could see that the focus of his gaze was on Samantha.

"That's so sweet," she ground out with a tight-lipped smile. Mentally she added die, bitch. "Do you want me to introduce you two?"

"Would you?"

"I'd be happy to." She turned around, rolling her eyes and pulling him forward by the hem of his shirt. She made sure to sway her hips as she walked, hoping that this at least would catch his attention, but one seductive peek over her shoulder told her that it wasn't working. What was wrong with her? Had she lost her touch?

Puzzled, Samantha lowered her Enquirer. "Hey. Can I help you?"

Jason wrung his hands anxiously. "I-I-I, um…" he stammered. ""I'm Jason."

"I know," she laughed. "I'm Samantha. It's a shame we haven't spoken sooner."

"Really?" He blushed at the crack in his voice and cleared his throat. "I mean, yes—" he amended, in an attempt to deepen his voice and maintain composure "—it is a shame. Big shame." He glanced around the yard, apparently searching for a topic of conversation. "I like your house. It's very…homey."

"Err, thanks."

"You'd love my house, too," Vicki piped up. "Especially the furniture in my bedroom."

Ignoring her, Jason went on. "So Vicki tells me you have kids?"

"Yes I do. Just one, a girl. She's eight years old."

Jason's eyes grew soft. "I love kids! I work with them all the time. I coach football at the high school, and on my free time I work with blind children at the community center."

"You do? Wow…that's so…admirable." Samantha was looking at him with more interest now, along with something deeper that Vicki refused to acknowledge.

Initial shyness forgotten, he droned on for about five minutes, explaining the work he did with these amputees, or whatever they were. Vicki wasn't paying attention, really; she was busy watching the way his lips moved. His arm muscles would bunch up whenever he made an enthusiastic gesture, and she was entranced, but she forced herself to focus on his voice. The growing attraction between the two was obvious.

"—and there's Billy, who's stopped peeing on me when I make him do his homework, and Lucy, who brings me dandelions every day, and Joey, who's the best in the class with his Braille...I really love these kids, you know?"

"That's so sweet," Samantha breathed. "Maybe I could join you someday? I'd love to meet them, and I'm sure my daughter would be happy to help out"

"Sure, that'd be fantastic!"

"Where's the community center you work at?"

"The one on Gumdrop Circle, off of Bon Bon Lane. It's not in the best area of town, but these kids have nowhere else to—are you all right?" Jason broke off his sentence, as he noticed that Samantha's face had gone pale.

"Fine. Just…fine. I think I'm going to go inside now, though. I…I'm awfully tired. Bye, Vicki. It was nice meeting you…Jason…but um, I have to go." She got up abruptly, leaving her unfinished iced tea behind.

"What's with her?" Jason asked.

Vicki fingered his shirtsleeve, grateful for this reclaimed opportunity. "I don't know…but I guess now we can get to know each other better, right?"

"Maybe some other time," Jason mumbled, a puzzled frown still marring her perfect face. Damn him. "I need to finish mowing the lawn. See you around sometime." He left without a backward glance.

Looking from Samantha's shut door to Jason's retreating—and perfectly formed—backside, Vicki narrowed her eyes. He deserved a real woman, and she'd see that he got one.

---.

At precisely thirty-two minutes before eleven, the video phone on Vicki's nightstand rang shrilly. She folded the page of her Nora Roberts novel and pressed the speaker button.

"Hello?"

"Honey! I miss you!" Her husband's voice carried through the receiver, but something in his inflection sounded hollow to her ears.

"I…I missed you, too. A lot."

For the next twenty minutes, this was her most meaningful utterance. Small talk and idle chatter filled the gaps, but the conversation teetered on the brink of awkwardness all the same. Their wedding photo stood humbly beside their prom picture, and the glass frame glared at her as she struggled to find words that would bridge the distance between them.

Finally, as her husband's pixelated image blew her a kiss and went black, Vicki Keebler pulled back the silken sheets of her king-sized bed, and went to sleep.

Alone.

Because I really think you care...

Sun, 31 Dec 2006 18:26:03 GMT

Yay, wasting time! You see, on Myspace something like this would probably be attached to a bulletin threatening to kill your mom if you didn't complete it. Luckily, I did this out of my own volition.

And also, I wish just once someone would make a survey with more interesting questions.

A- Available or taken? Very available, though I'm not actively looking. However, if Hiro Nakamura, Paul Dano, Channing Tatum, or Matt Lewis need someone to carry their children, I will gladly offer my uterus. I'll even deal with the vaginal shredding if it's a particularly hefty baby that I'm going to birth. So if anyone wants to send me one of these boys...

B- Best Friend? I don't think I have a best friend, per se. I have a bunch of very very close friends, but I've yet to share that kind of a bond with someone. Not that I mind. You can't miss what you never had, and I love all of my friends to pieces.

C- Cake or Pie? A certain friend of mine would argue, but I think I'm going to go with cake. Pie crust is tricky to perfect, and I've been scarred by too many bad pie crusts.

D- Drink of Choice? Tapioca pearl tea. Any flavor. And the balls have to be tasty (the tapioca balls, you perv) because some boba tea places use canned pearls rather than fresh, and ick.

E- Essential Item? If I forget my cellphone, I feel very very naked. Also, underwear. Britney, are you listening?

F- Favorite Color? Black, the absence of color. It matches my tortured soul. *is emo* Actually, I don't have a favorite color.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Worms. They last longer, since they're bigger, and the thought of eating those cute little bears makes me sad. Though real bears would eat me.

H- Hometown? Santa Clara, California.

I -Indulgence? Probably pearl tea, as stated above. It's a ridiculously expensive habit, and when school was in session I'd walk to Quickly every day to pay $3 for a cup.

J- January or February? What's the difference? I guess February, because it's when birds chirp, bunnies cuddle, and the world just reproduces in general. And on February 15, I go to the grocery store and buy the chocolates on clearance.

K- Kids and names? Kids? We've been over this, people. Immaculate conception was a one-time deal.

L- Life is incomplete without? Love. Corny, yes. But oh so true.

M- Marriage Date? See A, above.

N- Number of Siblings? None. :( I won't have any nieces or nephews to spoil.

O- Oranges or apples? Oranges.

P- Phobias/Fears? Isolation.

Q- Favorite Quote? I have a lot, see Facebook.

R- Reason to Smile? Frowning isn't as fun, and gives you wrinkles besides.

S- Season? Spring and fall, the medium seasons.

T- Tag three people! I already did this on LJ, but if you'd like to do this, feel free.

U- Unknown Fact About Me? I once saved my house from a fire caused by Ricky Martin. I kid ye not.

V- Vegetable you hate? I don't really like a lot of vegetables, but I'll eat them anyway.

W- Worst habit? Err, I don't know. Speaking before I think, maybe. When I'm comfortable with the company I tend to get loud and obnoxious. A lot of habits, really.

X- X-Rays you've had? Teeth. And I think my knee, for some random reason. I've never had an X-rayable injury. Thank goodness, because I'm a huge wimp when it comes to pain.

Y- Your favorite food? Anything Italian, especially stuffed manicotti. My mom's baked potatoes, my quiches...yay, calories! I need to post recipes or something, because this food is the yum.

Z- Zodiac? Leo. Attention-seeking, but not in the traditional ways. I guess instead of being a drama queen, my Leo-ness manifests itself in more subtle ways. Like I'll post my writing or share it with friends, and I'll crave feedback of any kind, even if it's bad. Or I'll call someone if I get the urge, and talk about my issues until I've resolved them, so I feel like someone's listening.

Yay me?

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 06:24:50 GMT

Loner - ISFP

46% Extraversion, 50% Intuition, 40% Thinking, 20% Judging

Ahh...the sweet serenity. The utter perfection of all creation. The
wondrous beauty of nature. The sweet sparrow singing along in the great
orchestra we call life...

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? You're the type of person people
always love to mock because they don't believe there's anyone ACTUALLY
like you.

Do realise that you ostracise people with your behaviour or is it all
subconscious? You're so quiet and reserved it's almost impossible to
get to know you well, and when someone finally does, all you want to
talk about is grace and beauty and harmony!

Ugh. Sure, you "genuinely care for others" and all that rubbish, but
when it boils right down to the basics you take life far too seriously.

Throughout the entire test, I bet you were searching for "further
clarification and hidden meaning" so that you might improve your
pitiful life. And woe and behold if it betrayed your intense values
system!

You need to STOP smelling the daisies. Believe it or not, logic does have a place in this world...imbecile.

*****************

If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this.

*****************

The other personality types are as follows...

Pushover - Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging

Criminal - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving

Borefest - Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging

Almost Perfect - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving

Freak - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging

Loser - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving

Crackpot - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging

Clown - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving

Sap - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Judging

Commander - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving

Do Gooder - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Judging

Scumbag - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving

Busybody - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging

Prick - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving

Dictator - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 99% on Extraversion
You scored higher than 99% on Intuition
You scored higher than 99% on Thinking
You scored higher than 99% on Judging

Link: The Brutally Honest Personality Test written by UltimateMaster on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

This sounds kind of dirty...

Sat, 16 Dec 2006 22:24:13 GMT

Shall I play for you,
Pa-rum-pum-pum pum,
On my msmoocow.

Little Drummer Boy
from the Christmas Song Generator.

More stalkers for Jaymee? What a shocker...

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 06:45:04 GMT

So this weekend I got a phone call from an unknown number in my area code. Being the naive person that I am, I answered it. The conversation went a little something like this.

Man: Yo, what's up?
Me: Hi?
Man: This is B-Boy. Is this Paula?
Me: No, sorry. This is Jaymee. You have the wrong number.
Man: Oh man, I'm sorry.
Me: It's okay.
Man: You sure you ain't Paula?
Me: No, I'm going through an identity crisis. Call me Franz.
Man: Hey, you on Myspace?
Me: Not really.
Man: You sure this ain't Paula? This is B-Boy from Myspace.
Me: I think I'm gonna go. I don't know you.

And I hung up. But wait! That's not all!

[5 minutes later...]

Me: Hello?
Same man: Yo, Paula, someone gave me your number and I was wondering if you wanted to hook up sometime.
Me: [ghetto voice] Oh hayl naw. Don't be trynta play me, cuz I ain't evah gon' get wit no stanky ass scrub like you.
Man: But...I thought we was cool...you said I was hella hot in your comments...
Me: I'M NOT PAULA! STOP CALLING ME.

And again, I hung up.

[30 seconds later...]

Text: This mr. Moreno aka b boy hiphop from myspace. Where r u from. Is this paula or no.

So I call him back.

Man: Paula?
Me: WHO THE HELL IS PAULA, YOU CREEPY VOYEURISTIC ILLITERATE BASTARD!
Man: We met on Myspace, aiight?
Me: Please stop calling me.
Man: S'cool, talk you you later.
Me: No thanks.

Sigh. At any rate, the calls stopped. And I blocked the number. But that was kind of irrtating.

Note: The dialogue has been reproduced accurately, barring the limitations of my admittedly poor memory. Any lapses in accuracy are mine, though if a word is different, the intent and emotion behind it remains the same. The text, however, is pitch-perfect.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Sun, 29 Oct 2006 07:22:44 GMT

Okay, apparently Xanga's new tagging system is, unlike LiveJournal's, completely open to the public. Meaning, it's not meant as a way to organize your entries. No, it's meant as a way for random people to stalk you.

What happens is, you tag an entry. The entries with tags in common show up in a giant cesspool of entries, and are available for stalkage on Xanga's main site.

Yeah. It's available in one of the default side modules that I have covered up, but I'd rather my posts weren't fed to the public in such an unseemly fashion.

If you do happen to find me through the tagging system, hello, stranger. :)

"Do you believe in Jesus, ma'am?"; or, My first kiss as a college girl, kind of

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 02:51:52 GMT

Q: Midterms?
A: Should die.

In other news, a homeless man kissed me about a week ago. I kid ye not. I was sitting on a bench with Brian at the lightrail station, talking about Star Wars or something, when out of nowhere this grizzled old man came up to us and knelt in front of the bench. He reeked of seediness, so I was kind of wary, but I don't like being rude to people. So I smiled at him, and he looked at both of us.

"Do you believe in God's power?" he asked.

Brian kinda did that thing where you pretend that you've suddenly gone mute and haven't the faintest idea what they're talking about--I kind of wanted to do that, too. But instead I nodded at him.

"Do you believe in Jesus Christ?" he asked again, taking one of my hands. At this I began to feel slightly alarmed. I mean, the guy kind of smelled like pee and beer, and I wasn't sure what he was going to do to me. I mean yeah, he did believe in God. But so did Jim Jones.

Anyway, I answered with a "Yeah," because after all, Jesus is cool. I still didn't know where he was going with this. I figured he was one of those crazy wandering prophets.

And then...he brought the hand he was holding--my hand--to his LIPS.

And I'was just sitting there, stunned and blinking, and he let go of my hand and spoke in a tone of voice resembling post-orgasmic rapture:

"You're healed. Walk with Jesus."

And he just got up and walked away.

I felt a little violated. I wanted to say things, even as he retreated. Things like "I'm neither leper nor sinner, so kindly leave the healing to Jesus, kthnx" and "When was the last time you bathed, you stinky old man?", but propriety won out in the end.

You know what didn't win? Stupid unprotective, passive male friends. Hmmph.