the site has been down since last Thursday night. Still not quite "right", but Allen is working really hard to reload everything...will be back to normal sometime soon...we all missed PJ...it was like having cabin fever...

-I got my federal tax returns back, so I decided to skip school (Parental permission granted) and blow it all. So I did. Hoorah. I have a newly filled closet.

-Brian doesn't like my "non-christian" status. It bothers me that he won't be accepting--or at least try to understand.

-I've become quite crude. I need to work on that.

-My room is 12 feet of clothes... I can't even walk in there. I'd need some snorkling geer.

-Yesterday I woke up to this funny smell... Aparently I stuffed a biscuit into tea two or three weeks ago (When I was very sleepy?) and it molded something fierce. It was the grossest thing ever. I threw away the glass.

-I'm glad that my boyfriend feels comfortable enough to fart in front of me. Wait... No I'm not.

-I got my 27th customer complaint. Apparently I give my customers rude looks. What?

-I'm going to Orlando with the marching band on Wednesday. I'm bringing my headphones. No way am I watching every star wars movie ever made three times over.

-I got contacts. There's something unsettling about shoving something in my eye.

-I missed two days of school last week. Because of this, I had to read 25 chapters of Huck Finn. HUCK FINN! That is the most boring book in the entire world. I went to www.sparknotes.com Yeehaw.

-So I'm sqwatting in the bathroom at school, when I get pegged in the head with a pen. Now, here I am, just minding my own buisness, and someone whales me in the head? Can't a person pee in peace?

-Speaking of bathrooms, I seem to be the topic of conversation on the walls:

"Are Brian and Ashley scrumping?"
"Champ and Roberts? Yeah. I think so."
"That's weird. She used to be such a prude."
"I'M NOT HAVING SEX!"
"That's not Ashley. I talked to her personally. She said she did."
"What? No I didn't."
"Shut up, liar."
"What?"
"Who cares. She's a whore anyway."

I haven't written anything... And I'm not having sex with Brian. Not that it's anyone's concern but my own. Bleh. Stupid girls. Why can't they just stick to writing poems about their boyfriends?

-Eminem is quite deep. Vulgar and rude, but deep.

-I'm glad that my guy friends are so protective over me. It's nice to have people who care.

-What am I going to do without them? They're all seniors... and me... a Junior. Left behind.

-I went to church. Brian is happy. Mom is happy. I was bored. The whole time I kept thinking about something profound to write on my tombstone.

-I have it so well. I'm not grateful enough.

-I made my mom cry the other day. Don't ever read captions from your journal to your mother.

-I'm still the favorite.

-I'm not angry.

-I'm curious, however, as to why I'm up at 11:30 writing random thoughts.

-I got a prom dress! Yeeehaw.

-Bleh. Nothing interesting to say.

-I have not had a boyfriend in seventeen years. It figures the one that I pick would be going away to college in the fall.

-Brian all but said he and I will end before he goes away to college.

-Do I desire a relationship that has no hope?

-No. Of course not.

-What am I to do?

-Break it off, despite the popular vote, that I give him my virginity to keep him around. What a stupid idea.

-Or... I can have a good summer with him--and choose not to think about the consequences, as he would like me to do.

-Why does everything have to have a future? Can't I not have a fling.

-Does his and mine future breakup make me less attracted to him?

-Yes.

-Is it a problem that I've only talked about Brian since this started?

-Quite possibly.

-There's this girl in my first block class. She's from Tibet--a foreign exchange student. She has a hard time speaking English, and doesn't fit in well. She went to a counsler and told her that our first block class is the meanest towards her. I guess I never noticed. I mean, I don't talk to her on a regular basis. However, I was her Secret Santa last December--and I made an effort to make it extra special. I figured she was having a hard time. I ran into her at the mall last weekend, and I talked to her for a bit... And I saw her at prom and told her how cute she looked... Perhaps I should've made more of an effort to talk to her more often. She wrote a paper about her experience at my school for a lit project. The teacher asked if she could read it aloud because it was so good. I was told it was so overwhelming and so sad, that there wasn't a dry eye in the class.

-It sucks when someone you love loses someone they love. My friend's dad is dying. He won't make it to see him graduate. It's quite sucky the way life works.

-It's amazing what you don't know about your peers. It's become more prevalent how hard my peers lives are. From being kicked out of their house, to having a secret abortion, to having family members die (In one instance a father who killed the mother), to being a social outcast, and so much more. It really makes you think.

-I don't look at the grass like I used to. When I was little I used to lay in the yard and look at the grass from different angles. If I held it really close to my face, it looked huge, and if I squinted it looked super small. I used to make a grass village for the ants.

-1-800-safe-auto. Pick up the phone, the call is free.

-I hate those commercials with the lawyers who come on and say, "Car accident? Neck pain? Call me--and I can get you a huge check." Argh.

-I also hate that new Zest commercial... where the guy wakes up and puts clothes pins on his wife and child's nose so they won't wake up from the wonderful smell of the soap.
As if you wouldn't wake up from the clothespin.

-Bleh. I hate boys.

-Water should have taste, I feel. Why can't we have ONE thing that tastes good and is good for us? I mean, c'mon God... cut us some slack.

-I feel that it is an issue that my lunch lady is missing a finger.

-Our school's principal is out to get me. He's going to kill me... twice.

-Why is it a family event every time I menstrate?

-I should own more shoes.

-Once I was playing flag football with my team sports class, and this boy punched me in the face (on accident/purpose (undecided)) and I blacked out. When I came to, my eye kept twitching. Every now and then it would start twitching again... about three or four times daily. Three months later, we were playing basketball and the same kid punched me in the face (on purpose/accient (undecided... though it's quite a coincidence that he would keep punching me, no?)) and I blacked out. When I came to, my eye never twitched again.

-Every breath I drew was halleluja

-Bleh.

heh heh, I am glad that ultimately he fixed your eye trouble...


About your boyfriend. Don't try to predict the future and don't take those knuckleheads advice about your virginity either. Sex will not keep him around. Speaking from the male perspective, I can't remember respecting a whole lot of the girls I sinned with in my past. Ironic isn't it? I was there too yet "they" were easy... sad :sigh:

Take your relationship one day at a time and one blessing at a time. If it is not to be, it won't, simple as that. Brian sounds like a great guy, enjoy him, it is the little things that matter in this world most.

God bless ya!

Thanks, Steve.

Brian and I wouldn't have sex anyway. No worries. He doesn't want to... He's very adamant about "until marriage." Which is cool for him. That's not my perspective (I'm more of someone I love), and he probably wouldn't stop me if I tried--but all the same, I respect his wishes, so I shall not try (not that I want to anyway).

I'm hormonal. Leave me alone.

-I love sitting on a wet toilet seat. Especially when it's because my dog has been drinking out of the toilet--or even better when my brother's are too lazy to lift the seat. It just brings a smile upon face.

-No, really--it makes me so filled with rage that I want to prod the dog/brother with a very dull stick for many hours.

-Yearbook signings. Woo. I paid $30 for a "damaged book." Everyone else paid $120 for one in "perfect condition." I got my book and the only damage was a small speck (That you literally have to search for) of white on the back cover. Brian's book was in perfect condition... and then it hit against the desk a little, and scratched the side. Heh. This makes me happy.

-Prom pictures are AWFUL.

-Parental units are out of town, and Brian is not allowed over... At all... under any circumstance... Even if I'm dying... If everyone disappeared, and I accidentally stabbed myself with a butter knife and was bleeding, I couldn't call Brian over to come help me. Even if everyone in the world is dead, and it's left to Brian and I to repopulate the world, he's not allowed over. Even if the house explodes and all that is left is a few ashes, he is not allowed in a 100ft radius of the ashes. This by order of the maternal unit.

-To obey the parents, or to have Brian over for some tea? That is the question. I feel that too much is at stake. Like--let's say--my life.

-I get a king size bed... all to my self. Oh, the joys of sprawling.

-Yearbook signing at my school: Classes are dismissed by the hour, depending on grade level. All 3,000 of us are herded into a stadium that seats 200. We are instructed to socialize and "get it out of our systems." We are allowed to sign yearbooks for four hours. Four. And we're not allowed to leave the stadium... for any reason. Even if we lost a limb, due to someone slipping, and chopping it off with the razor sharp edges of their new year books. Two boys prance across the field and get in trouble. They are allowed to leave the stadium... They have all of their limbs. I deem this unfair, and contemplate prancing. We sign yearbooks--and after the first two hours, my finger hurts so badly from writing my name that I begin to write in the blood caused from the pen pressing so deep into my finger. It is hot. There are 3,000 hormonally inept, sexually frustrated teenagers, breathing, sweating, and farting all around me. I feel the need to die. In my head I'm screaming. I'm screaming long slurs of obstinacies. No one can hear me. I'm in my head. At no point in those four hours was I not touching anyone. I get overwhelmed, anxious, and quite angry. I feel like a herd of cattle, and we're all being herded to our deaths. At this point, death doesn't seem so bad. I continue signing. I decide I can't take it anymore--and push against the crowd to the bathroom--which much to my surprise and delight, is thoroughly empty, and air-conditioned. As I was pushing through the crowd, seven (7) people handed me yearbooks. So, I have me a seat on the loo, and begin signing yearbooks... on the toilet... of my school. How very profound.

-One boy took my yearbook, and left. He thought it was his. I have three people who signed my book to Andrew--who is apparently very quiet, and is in broadcasting.

-While on the loo, I happened to read more bathroom writings. There was this chart of boogers. That's right, boogers. You're instructed to pick your nose, and stick the booger in one of the columns: squishy, green, yellow, hard, firm, huge, tiny, red, salty, brown, multicolored, normal, original.
I was utterly disgusted. But even more disgusted that people actually participated in this.

-I'm going to miss my graduating friends.

-I love school.

-I love life.

-It's sad.

-I’m an angry person.

I haven't typed in a while...and I'm outta practice.

I am all by myself.

My boyfriend is a wierdo.

I ate too many nachos.

My lunch date stood me up two days in a row...two different people. Pathetic, no?

I'm excited about OneDay.

I am so sore...went jogging for the first time in months but it felt good.

Aaaahhhh, the smell of freshly chlorinated pool water mixed with a little just-got-done-jogging smell.

Why is it that...

Nevermind.

I'm catching up on all the movies I haven't ever seen that everyone else in the entire world has...I'm up to "The Spy Who Shagged Me"...haven't seen it yet, but plan to. Saw the Shawshank Redemption, American Pie, Me Myself and Irene, There's something about Mary, Silence of the Lambs and Meet the Parents for the first time ever last month.

I don't like to sleep alone, but I'm really enjoying doing my own thing whenever I want...I sorta miss that.

My apartment is a mess...but I only visit there once a month anyway. Why do I still pay rent??

My child graduated from PreK today. I feel old.

Why can't my hair air dry and look good? Why do I have to subject it to things that are bad for it like various styling products and much heat in order for it to look decent...and then a little touch of humidity *poof* all that work down the tubes.

Who the heck invented makeup anyway. Jerk...had to have been a guy.

I am tired of mint flavored gum.

I am a nerd to be here at midnight when everyone else is out having fun.

I really need to clip my toenails...and shave.

Beer is grooooooossss. Why do people drink it? I don't understand.

Am I a wierdo if I sniff his cologne every few hours and call his phone even though he's out of area just to talk to his voicemail??

I'm thinking it would save time to just put some of the cologne on so I could just sniff myself...

How the heck are you guys?

We had a patient come into the office today complaining with pain..um, "down there" and when I asked him what happened, he said that he was...well, you know (by himself) and he went too fast and "eeeeeeeerrrrk" (you know, the sound that squeeling brakes make). How embarrasing...his mom was sitting there laughing at him. And what's worse is that the nurse looked at the schedule wrong...by his name I had written "check penis", but she got the names mixed up, so she wrote "check penis" by a little boy's name that was coming in for a runny nose...so when the mom described the symptoms, the nurse asked, "and what's wrong with his penis?" The mother looked at her like she was crazy and replied, "nothing..." OOPS! Wrong patient.

Undercover Brother was a stupid movie. I didn't like Ghost Ship much either. And if you haven't seen Feardotcom... DONT.

My eye itches.

I got bit by a bug on the back of my leg in the same spot on each leg...and billy's son got bit in the same spot on his leg...in the same day. Wierd.

I hate freckles...they get so dark when I'm out in the sun.

I'm sleepy...

[img]http://www.praisecafe.org/imagefolio/imageFolio.cgi?direct=members/Ashley&img=[/img]

Test test?

It's hopeless.

try to link them now Ash... I changed some settings.

I washed the cover for my duvet/down comforter for the first time... ever... it's safe to come over to my house again

hmmm... ate at carrabba's for a friend's birthday party

spent the rest of the evening in front of my old pc instead of going to see 28 days later I'm just not into horror films .

Brian's got a new girlfriend. Apparently it's not that he doesn't want to be in a relationship--it's that he doesn't want to be in a relationship with me.

He doesn't know that I know.

His friends are my friends and we talk. He's stupid.

I'm jealous of my best friends.

I like the taste of salt.

Biting my lips: My newly adopted nervous habit.

I hate my Ingles apron. I look pregnant.

I'm having total mood swings.

Argh. I'm not in the mood.

try linking to your pictures again, I changed some settings

Was in the newspaper the other day - they can't spell atall

-I hit myself in the face with my flag during bandcamp. Aren't we excited? I have an awesome black eye. Everyone calls me "slugger" now. Ack.


[img]http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0UwAdAwUb2pyVhcyEzdPs3wCSNvlG9kClGGuPJUKP2CXNfS5DRsF53y!rneWcFk3PN1OoN*9Ni6okh4wvwCDAndgYyr7D0J24YFnMnWt2QOqMpAlqpx9HqHY2ndRVr0!g/Ashleyblackeye.jpg?dc=4675432090482005612[/img]

-I hope that image works, because if it doesn't, I'm not fixing it.

-Pool parties rock.

-Stubbing your toe doesn't.

-I get irritated on flagline.

-I put red gatoraid in my camel back during marching practice, and everyone asked me what was in it when they saw the red in my straw. I told them blood. It made me happy to see their shocked face and then wanting to take a swig. I'm not sure they really believed me. But maybe.

-I got a fat lip when I attempted a move that physics just wouldn't allow.

-Whenever I don't know the answer to a question, I say "Your mom." I don't even think about it. I don't think I have any control.

-Stretching is fun.

-Running isn't.

-I'm collecting coke tabs to save small children.

-Harry Potter... I love him.

-Wee!

That is one heckova shiner you got there sista! I am sorry for ya!

as for the rest.... Your mom! LOLOLOLOL

-Did I tell you I got arrested last Sunday? Woo. I was horrified. Apparently jumping off bridges with all of your friends is illegal.

-BAND CAMP IS OVER!

-I snuck out of my house last night and met a friend in a field to look at the stars.

-Desperately Wanting- Better than Ezra

-Is it illegal to post someone's name on the internet?

-I want to be on Mock Trial.

-My friends all left for college.

-Except for Brian.

-Who is acting... strange. Like he cares about my feelings.

-I have my senior pictures on Thursday. And I still have a nice black eye.

-School starts in exactly one week! I CAN'T WAIT!

-I need school clothes.

-And supplies.

-And markers... to write poems on the bathroom walls with.

-It's my senior year, and that's such a crime. I should be 12 and climbing trees.

-I'm almost an adult.

-I can vote in this next presidential election.

-I still don't have my liscense.

-Flagline... woo.

-I hate our new principal. He's a jerk. And he thinks he's funny.

-I am covered in skin. No one gets to come in. Pull me out from inside. I am ready.

-UNO! I win!

-I don't know why, but I put in a Queen CD this morning. It made me remember when I was five and crawled into my parents bed screaming "Easy come, easy go, Will you let me go? Bismillah! No, we will not let you go! LET HIM GO! Bismillah! We will not let you go! No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Oh Mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go!"

-

-I didn't know all the lyrics then, and my dad said "Wow. That was pretty good."

No it isn't illegal to post a name on the net. But if you post an address etc you could in some way be held liable for any damages that might befall them. (like if a freakish stalker used the info...) The family might be able to pursue a civil case.

Good to know.

I'm trying to think of slogans for our senior class shirts.

Idea One:

(Front) GRADUATING
(Back) And this is what we have to look forward to… (Picture of a businessman holding a briefcase and crying)

Idea Two:

(Front corner) Prisoner Number _________________ (Blank space for you to write your number)

(Back) Serving a 12 year sentence and breaking out in 2004!

Idea Three:

(Front) GRADUATION

(Back) The end of a 12 year depression.

Idea Four:

(Front) Class of 2004: Community college here we come!

(Back) …if that!