Hey kids, sorry for my extended hiatus. I do that sometimes (and will be doing a great deal in the coming month an a half due to the whole vacationing thing). Unfortunately, the news that has inspired me to come and break my sabbatical is not pleasant.

My sister Ceylan has turned bitchy. Yes, bitchy. There have been times in the past where she'd go on a minor run of evil for a day or so, but it usually never lasts for longer than that. The whole rest of the time she is sickeningly cheery--I don't know if that's just her normal way of acting at this age or an overly done and poorly controlled attempt to prevent herself from getting out of control.

Recently she's seemed to be on an anti-Cantay rampage, which I can understand considering the circumstances: she's a young teenager, I'm going away to college, and I'm a loud, abrasive ass. What doesn't make sense is that she's conducting simultaneous anti-mom and anti-dad rampages.

Now let me define rampage for you--it's not as pleasant and clear-cut as you would like to think. It's a state where for about 2/3 of the time she is in that extremely happy state or just general contentness, but the remaining 1/3 is extremely angry with cold, harsh insults thrown in. This wouldn't be so worrisome if it was just extreme anger; we've all been young, we've all had those spurts of irrational rage. It's the barbs that she flings at us with that cold voice that frighten me and make her presence extremely unpleasant. Just now she's been complaining--coldly--that first my dad doesn't know what he's talking about and second that only she gets in trouble when she complains about the lack of food. Obviously there are problems with perception here, but we're all guilty of that--I simply cannot emphasize enough that it was -how- she said it that is so bone-chilling, not what she said.

There's also something to be said for her uncold moments. Of late she's been having increasing occurences of emotional outburst. One example I can think of is when we went to TGI Friday's a week or so ago, mom, her and I. She brought up the time that I got extremely angry at her for downloading Kazaa, installing it and many other secondary programs that came with it, downloading songs, and then not telling me about it. Now I had a right to be quite angry, I believe, but I did overreact when I next saw her, and in doing so hurt her feelings. I could understand her resentment of me for the time immediately afterwards, but what I did not understand at all was why -she- brought up the topic at Friday's. Needless to say, I explained my case (and was interrupted numerous times by my mom who was telling me to keep my voice low--eventually I had to whisper so that she would be satisfied), and my sister cried. You wouldn't believe how extremely frustrating it is to try to explain something to someone and then have them get emotional instead of formulate a rational response of some sort--disagreement, agreement, qualification, whatever is fine; I just hate it when people get overly emotional (especially when they bring up the topic). Now the way I said everything was probably rough enough to bruise egos and injure feelings, but it was the only way I could really say it--one of those things I need to work on before joining the Foreign Service, I guess. But I digress. The whole point of bringing this up is that my sister willingly brought the topic up, which of course followed that the course of conversation would be fraught with things like "you're a horrible brother" and "I hate talking to you" and "you have 'problems'". Obviously I'm not the best brother, and I can be very difficult to talk to, and I do have some problems, but criminy! She's said "you're the best brother" and "you're very easy to talk to" (heh, she hasn't said I don't have problems, though). It's like she was looking for an excuse to go into a mood swing.

Arguments with her in general have risen greatly for all parties, my own desire to remain around her has decreased considerably, and I worry about what will happen when we go to Turkey on the 10th. Oh well. Hopefully it's just a very freaky teenage female thing.

Tomorrow I leave for Columbus, where I will bring coffee to the good people of CBS. Hasta la byebye, kids.

My, I'm feeling cheery! Not only has my hormone-level (as far as I can detect it) gone down, but I'm also the World Ping Pong Mastah. That's right bitch. Say it. "Mass. Tah." Ain't it w00tful?

John, Eric and I went down to Best Buy after school--which for the three of us ended at about 12:25. Before we did that, we went ahead and paid a visit to Kinko's where I learned that Beth is totally going to be a writer! I envy that slut; apparently she has skill with a pen or something.

At Best Buy I took a look at the computer games that those fellows had in stock, and, much to my chagrin could find nothing that I really wanted at all. However, after some searching in the bargain aisle, I found this relatively new Star Wars Starfighter game thing, so I bought that for $2. Literally $2--I was quite happy, even if I had to use a $5 off coupon to get it to that price... especially since said coupon is only supposed to be valid for software and accessories worth twenty-five dollars or more, and I have one more that needs a home. I also decided to make a venture into classic music. It's something that I've been trying to do more lately; so far I've picked up stuff from The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and David Bowie, and today I decided that it would be Rolling Stones Day. So I yoinked Forty Licks off the shelves and shelled out the $25 required to purchase it and take it home with me (used my old birthday giftcards which I -finally- remembered to stuff into my wallet).

On a pretty unrelated note, I've been very happy to also use up a very old Barnes and Noble giftcard I got about fifteen years ago. I feared that if I waited any longer, they might deduct from the $30 my benefactors put on it like they threatened to do on the back of the card. How did I spend it? Yesterday I went on to bn.com, and after about an hour, I was able to find a suitable Bible and Qur'an that combined were $27.54 (and came with free shipping since the order totaled more than $25--w00t!). I figure I can use these old holy books to do some study into religion and make myself better informed about what exactly all these fellows are thinking with their extremism and stuff. Who knows? I just might convert myself to some religion. ::Chuckle::

So anyways, after Best Buy, John and me were about on the verge of dying, and we were planning to just head on home until Eric encouraged us to try some ping pong at his place. Deciding that we could use the adrenaline boost, we accepted, and soon enough we were at Chez Eric. I will now recount the history of the nation of Pingpong, wrought with brutal civil wars and devious coups.

The nation was effectively formed when Cantay of Turk united the wandering and confused peoples of the region together under one banner and established trade routes and cultural links to the outside world. Over the next five centuries, the First Cantay Dynasty ruled Pingpong and the country flourished. However, a jealous general named Cody (Eric's brother) soon hatched a ploy to take power away from the Cantays by turning the army against him. After much vicious fighting within the royal palace, Cody's followers were able to claim the reigns of Pingpong from the recently decapitated King Cantay XVII.

Cody was unable to keep power for more than two centuries, though, falling quickly to an assault of the Eric Tribe after barely fending off the savage Johns. The leader of the Erics was then unable to maintain strength and unity in the kingdom, and Blondie III abdicated his throne to the cheers of millions who were demanding that the deposed Cantays be allowed to return to power. Cantay I of the Second (often referred to as the "Glorious") Cantay Dynasty (the numbers start over with each dynasty) instituted countless reforms throughout his kingdom, though many of them were created to help keep him and his descendants maintain power and were in reality quite oppressive. Of course, his tactics served to keep the family in control of Pingpong for seven hundred years--until Erics, promising freedom and love, forced themselves into power by convincing Cantay XXII that living at the family estate in Couch would be a much finer thing to do than to rule over a country. Cantay XXII, you see, was mentally retarded (hurrah for inbreeding!) and so it actually didn't take much convincing for this to happen--Cantay;s family even paid the Erics a monthly sum for their services.

After only two monarchs from the Erics succeeded to the throne, the people of Pingpong realized that these guys were at least as brutal as the Cantays before them, while not having the added advantage of being able to scare foreign leaders with a toothy grin. A civil war that broke out after the death of Erico II lasted only three weeks, and Cantay supporters quickly installed the best candidate into the position. Oddly enough, this fellow--the closest living and willing male relative of Cantay XXII's--was at best a fourth cousin to Cantayana, the matriarch of the family, and so the quality of service was mediocre as far as Cantays go. In fact, the Cantays were nearly destroyed two centuries after they began the Third Cantay Dynasty by Cantay V, who ate all of his children, then his wife, then his parents, then his cousins, and then anyone else that he could find of his family. The belief was that by eating everyone, he would grow stronger. In actuality it may have worked, since Cantay V lived to be 84 years old and reigned for 47 of them.

Into the vacuum the pesky Erics leaped and claimed power for three generations before Cantos the Young practically came out of no where to challenge Eric III for the throne. After about ten coups attempts and ten attempted rebuttal assassinations, Cantos finally came to power during the confusion caused when Eric III was strangled to death by his four year old son, who then proceeded to explode. Cantos, realizing the problems to the people posed by the Second and Third Cantay Dynasties, eased the restrictions that his forefathers had placed to protect him, and quickly became known as Cantos the W00t. He and his progeny expanded Pingpong and brought prosperity to the people over the next five hundred years, until tragedy struck the House of Cantay to end the Fourth (often termed "Most Glorious") Cantay Dynasty.

A large comet struck the royal palace of Pingpong, utterly slaughtering its inhabitants, and fulfilling the prediction made by the Erician seer Harpoo that "They will die! All of them!" which she made just before stabbing herself in the eye. Because she was so completely right, the Erics were allowed to snatch power, which they held for three centuries, establishing the first real non-Cantay dynasty, known as the Dynasty of Erics. However, it didn't last much beyond the reign of Shazhopper II, who accidently cut off the "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER PENALTY OF LAW" tag from his mattress, and was executed. The Fifth, and current Cantay Dynasty has been in power for three hundred years and shows no signs of letting up any time soon. Yay!

So... what does all this mean? It means I had winning streaks of 5, then 7, then 2, then 5, then 3 in ping pong at Eric's today. That may not sound extremely impressive, but take into account that after about ten games the body starts to get very angry. For those of you who weren't there, my overall record was 22-6, and only once did I suffer consecutive losses (see the only Eric Dynasty, where I lost the throne to Eric, then John lost, then I lost again). Individual records (estimated in the win-columns) are 2-1 against Cody, 6-0 against John, and 14-5 against Eric (as you may notice, John and Cody did lots of sitting out).

Anyways, now that I've driven you from this place forever, I would like to wish you a good night. Hasta la byebye, folk.

Hmm. I almost typed something disturbingly telling here, but I decided it would be best to keep it hidden. Now the fun lies in having you guys try to figure out exactly what I was about to tell you. Was I going to proclaim my kinship to Queen Beatrix of Holland? Was I preparing to share a part of a beautiful, though controversial story that I am not the author of? Was I about to admit my undying love for peanut butter? You will never know. But I will tell you this: I hate hormones.

In happier news, school ends in... three days or so. The inaugural final exam is this afternoon, but I don't have to go ^.^ (one of my two exam exemptions goes to this one). I never really mentioned it before because I never really thought about it.

Heh... John just covered up part of his left shoe with white-out. The spot was distinctly gray, but the whole shoe looks generally shoddy, so the white-out looks more out of place than the gray did. John knows this, of course, but I can't help but say it here (posterity, you know).

Speaking of posterity, how are you doing kids? I hope that I'm not dead or anything while you're reading this. Hopefully you're just going behind my back or something or maybe--heaven forbid--doing it with my permission!

Jesus I hate hormones. If it is composed of matter, I want it to be my sex slave. So disturbing when everything reminds you of sex. And I don't give a shit if you don't want to hear it; you've either dealt with it, will deal with it, or are a eunuch. Dammit. My scatterbrained state of mind is so ridiculously visible in this. Scatterbrained because of HORMONES. Damn them! Damn the hormones! Full fucking speed ahead!

Hasta la bloody byebye!

Last night before I could properly get to sleep I was thinking about the seasons a bit. I started considering favorite seasons and whatnot after a while. Now I knew that I myself preferred Spring, but I didn't really know quite why, so then I delved into that a bit and came up with some interesting results.

I first determined that there were only two real seasons. Most, if they view them this way at all, view them as Summer and Winter, but I prefer to see them as Spring and Fall--blame the school establishment if you wish, but I doubt that that had much influence with me. The reason I was able to isolate two seasons was that I simply assigned a characteristic to the four that we normally referred to and classified them that way; I chose the classic waxing or waning, analogous to the moon. According to this classification, Spring and Summer would be grouped together under "waxing" and Fall and Winter would be put under "waning".

The general rule I used to determine waxing or waning status was essentially a mixture of temperature, plant life, and animal activity--all factors that increase or remain constantly high in the waxing seasons and decrease or remain constantly low in the waning seasons. And since I was grouping them as either waxing or waning, it seemed appropriate that I divide it into Spring and Fall, the transitional seasons, rather than Summer and Winter, the two poles.

Now that I've done this, I set out to determine why I prefer the Spring. The natural answer would be that all life enjoys a time of sprouting and growing life, but that's far too vague for my purposes. Why is the growth of these things more pleasant to me than their decay? Both carry equal importance in the cycle of life all over the planet, after all.

The largest part of it I like to attribute to my own nature of liking things that haven't reached their peak yet. Whether it be athletes or government bonds, everything just seems better when it is younger and has a greater potential for improvement. I've noticed especially in the sports franchises that I always create, I prefer younger, less talented players to older, more experienced ones. A cookie or brownie you shall receive from me if you notice this sentence. There are plenty of reasons for this: younger players usually have lower salaries, can form the core of a team for many years, and tend to establish a strange sort of vitality lacking in a squad full of veterans. But even when these issues are irrelevant, I still find myself preferring the young to the old; or rather the more promising to the aging.

Also in terms of pure temperature, I like the waxing seasons more because of the idea of more heat--something that I like to the point of being reptilian--as opposed to the waning seasons which may have very hot days, but also promise that the next month the days will be cooler.

So then this leads me to wonder more about how I tick. A basic interpretation that I can get from my view of the seasons--which would be based on the fact that I view them as Spring and Fall instead of Summer and Winter--is that I prefer the prospect, and not the actual state of apex. What would happen if I were offered two jobs; one a low-paying job with opportunity for advancement, and the other a high-paying job with no opportunity for advancement? What if that first job would never make as much money as the second? Would I still pursue to the first in pursuit of a peak rather than take a better job and be doomed to remain the same? It's all very strange to think of it in such abstractions, but to go into too much detail would complicate the matter far too much.

Anyways, that's about as far as I want to go today. Hope you guys remember to eat your rattails! Hasta la byebye!

Hello boys and girls! We seniors just got our caps and gowns at lunch today, and I must say, I look extremely sexy in mine. As I was telling my study hall class, it's like the hotness that I normally have--which is hotter than everyone else--is increased exponentially by the presence of the cap and gown. I used this argument to try to convince the only senior in the class now wearing his gown to don it and look sexy with the rest of us. Sadly, I failed, but I believe that as the day progresses and he realizes that he has no chance of being as hot as the people who are wearing their caps and gowns, he will come to his senses and put the thing on.

In other news, my dear friend TJ, who is currently going to Texas Tech and has recently returned to Katy for the summer, heard about the expenses of GWU, and pled with me to reconsider my options. However, I remained firm and told him that even though I would hold a gagillion dollars in debt once I graduated, it would be worth it. The argument got me to thinking about it more seriously, though. Is an undergraduate education at GW really worth a gagillion dollars? Consider the possibilities of frugality at Texas Tech, for example.

To this AP-styled question, I answered to myself that it indeed was. If I don't go to GW, my chances for advancement in a career that means something to me will be reduced tremendously. I may be losing out on the option to become a news anchor, sure, but the only decent chance of that happening would be for me to go to Emerson, which would end up costing me just as much, and then I'd have to give up the dream of being a diplomat. For me, the question is really between the two dreams, and that question was answered long ago when I picked GW (who was the underdog, mind you). Now that I've picked it, the idea in general really has grown on me a lot, and I honestly couldn't imagine myself going anywhere else. And really, even if it turns out to be nothing like I expected, even if my dreams are dashed against the proverbial rocks, there is always the option of transfer, which would allow me to get a less expensive education in something that GW isn't particularly skilled at teaching, leaving me with only one fourth of a gagillion dollars in debt.

Excellent news! The dude sitting next to me at this moment just said about three seconds ago, "I guess your peer pressure worked," and pointed over to the one senior who had not been wearing his cap and gown. And would you know it? The fellow is wearing it now! W00t! I'll use this is some obscure omen that everything will be a-ok.

And! In the roleplaying world, there's going to be some massive upheaval! I'm totally riled up about it, and I can only hope that it all happens before I fly off to Turkey some time around June 10th.

That's all that father time has lent me for right now. Hasta la byebye mis jóvenes abuelos! (Yes, there is a reason that the adjective preceded the noun)

I come home from a hard day at the office, and what do I find?!

"Say something dammit!"!

What is this? People deign to comment on the things that are more trivial, but when they see me make an attempt at being profound, I get nothing? How many of you actually -read- the stuff I post when it's long? Don't lie now; we've all skipped through posts before, but dammit, this is actual stuff that means something to me!

Consider it; I'm a Turk who is very interested in international affairs. The combination of the two makes me an absolute powder keg on the subject of Iraq! How can you possibly resist the urge to set my fuse aflame?

Bah! I'll make another post sometime later. Right now I'm going to sulk and study for my AP Government and Economics tests. Oh, and at the school's awards ceremony last night, I received awards (they give out two per class offered at the school, biatch) for Physics and Advanced Placement Economics. Huzzah!

Hasta la byebye, my dear asshats.

Now that we're in Iraq, it is extremely important that we tie up all of our loose ends before we go. But you all well know that I never wanted us to get into Iraq; I was against the war from the minute I heard about the idea, and there were lots of reasons for it. One of them, one that I was honestly not too concerned about, has surfaced to become a boiling fester on the face of American foreign policy.

Some of you may be guessing to what I'm talking about, but for those who haven't, I'm talking about the recent surfacings of reports alledging that American soldiers have been torturing and humiliating Iraqi prisoners of war. My worry before the war was that even though the United States and its military are as a whole dedicated to human rights and human dignity, atrocities would be committed. I wasn't thinking specifically of prisoner torture--this could have happened in any number of ways: homes could be needlessly and senselessly destroyed, people could be rounded up and massacred in a reenaction of My Lai, soldiers could take the prettiest girls they found and do with them as they would, et cetera.

It is entirely possible that these other things I have said have happened or are happening right now, though I doubt it. Regardless of that, however, there are prisoners that have been subjected to the terrible sort of sadism that can develop within an army, and that is an atrocity. It is horrible enough that thousands are displaced, deprived, and destroyed in the course of war, but to throw this upon the fire is simply too much.

Throughout history, regular armies have treated their prisoners cruelly and with inhuman disregard. But the armies themselves are not entirely to blame; especially in situations of low morale, the psyches of people who have been fighting a difficult enemy--in this case the people of Iraq--with no end in sight are often terribly misshapen. Their morality is all too easily compromised, first in periods of seconds, then minutes, then hours, days, months, years, unto permanence. It is all too easy for one to become warped. By no means do I excuse the soldiers, their commanders, or the civilians who played a part in this, but the fact is that in war, people in an army can do things they would never do otherwise.

I am certainly no pacifist; the articles of that doctrine are far too narrow-minded and foolish for my liking. I can understand, for example, a country attacking its neighbor who has surplus food and refuses to trade or loan any to that country while the people of that nation are starving. But I hate war. There are extremely few instances when I have seen human aggression accomplish something; I'm not referring to defensive actions here, but rather to the attacks that prompted them; one could argue that the world would have been horrible if Hitler consolidated his power and tortured the Jews in secret while starting no wars, but the fact is that Hitler would never have come to power if he did not have big plans for using it. If there were a world where Hitler tried to become chancellor without intending to expand the Fatherland, I would be quite surprised to see it. Saddam Hussein himself made an advance, but his was just to little Kuwait, and he was expelled very quickly. One may use my previous argument and say the Hussein would have attacked someone else again, but that man was not stupid. He may have been a vicious dictator who was not loath to sending many of his own people to their deaths, but he coveted something more than his desire to hurt, and that was his power. He realized that to keep that power, he would need to keep Iraq out of the way of everyone else--this entails not attacking anyone anymore.

This war was wrong from the start. Aside from the fact that we have still not found any real caches of biological, chemical, or strategic weapons, Hussein was not going to attack us even if he had them. I may well be the only one in the United States who feels that way, but I sincerely doubt that he would have started shooting even if he had bullets, powder, and a revolver to put them in. I forsee very few circumstances where preemptive strikes on a country could prove worthwhile in the long run, and I definitely do not consider this to be one of them. Many will cite the fact that Saddam Hussein was an evil man and his departure will bring great things to Iraq. Well, I have a view that few people seem to share with me on this as well:

Saddam Hussein was indeed a poisonous villain as ruler of Iraq, but he was a force of stability in a country with three major ethnic groups that do not get along. The most direct analogy I can see between this and history happened relatively recently. A man by the name of Josip Broz Tito was supported by the Allies at the end of World War II to lead the new nation of Yugoslavia. Unfortunately, the man turned out to be a quite ruthless when dealing with the various peoples of his country, which was modeled after the Soviet Union even to the point of having member republics (Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Montenegro, and Macedonia). Under his massive thumb, he was able to keep quarrels between the different groups in his country and nationalism in general suppressed. However, when Tito died in 1980, the country quickly unraveled and the things that Bosnia and and its capital in Sarajevo are synonymous with today began to happen. A similar situation existed in Iraq before we entered. The consquences of letting Hussein's life end while he was in power and having Iraq likely fall into disarray would be great, but Yugoslavia's republics have been able to recover a great deal over time; the same would likely happen with Shiite Iraq, Sunni Iraq, and Iraqi Kurdistan. However, I have many doubts that trying to forcefeed the idea of democracy to a people who hardly understand it, and carrying an American flag while doing so is going to minimize the damage; rather, I believe it will exacerbate the situation greatly while giving other nations and their people another reason to hate us.

Oh, and I hate the acronym "WMD" and the phrase that it represents. Just thought I'd put that on the record. Hasta la byebye.

I've been thinking... things are going to be very different when I go away.

To my knowledge, there is no one else in this school that is going to school in Washinton DC, let alone to GW. Some of my friends are going to be going to places like UT And A&M and Texas Tech where there will be other people from Cinco, but I'm going to be completely cut off from human contact with all the people I have called friend (with the possible exception of my friend Kim from the NSLC way back in the summer of 2002 who's at American University).

It's going to be pretty tough for me to keep in contact with everyone. I mean, I say that I'll write and call and IM, but chances are that after a couple of weeks, that will cut out; history predicts that that will be so. How terrible it will be when I start to drift away from my friends who are still in Texas. It's almost like dying and being born again, when you lose your friends and then make new ones somewhere else. That's how it was when I came to Texas. I remember my old friend Daniel from Arizona; we kept in contact for a little while, but soon enough we just lost contact. I haven't talked to him since the first month after we'd moved into our house, but to this day I still remember his phone number.

I guess the only thing I can really hope for is that my memories of everything I've done don't degrade over the years. I want to remember the beach house, the band, being an actor, my first Astros game, prom, Decathlon, cheerleading, Model UN, roleplaying, my friends, my acquaintances, the people who I would pass by in the hall but never meet. It's all so important, but all so easily clouded, shoved aside, and destroyed by neglect.

I think I'm going to write some names down. And then appoint their owners to positions of power when I take over the world thirty or forty years from now.

Oh, and if any my RP friends are reading this, I should be able to continue fairly well while at college; my desire to remember the RP is more from non-Ansteorran times than anything else. But, if things go sour, I'll miss you guys too. And yes, you can have positions of power... if I can track you down.

That's all folks. Hasta la byebye.

"Oh. My. God. Cantay, you are such a fuckass. All you do all the time is talk about your roleplaying. Roleplay this and roleplay that and look! I'm a goat this! And look! I'm a skunk with one arm that! NO ONE CARES! Stop talking about your damn characters all the time!"

--An exact quote from Eric today at lunch. EXACT.

So, Mister ERIC, I won't talk about roleplaying today! Instead!

Two AP tests down, two more to go. For those of you not well-versed in the scheduling of these Advanced Placement (AP) exams, the two I have already taken are Calculus AB and English Literature & Composition. For those of you not well-versed in what the hell an AP test is, I'll just tell you that it's a test one may take in a certain subject to get potential college credit without having to take basic underclassman courses.

So, how did they go? They went vroom. Like foxes. The question is... is that a good thing or a bad thing? Well, I can't tell you. But what I can tell you is that American Government and Macroeconomics are coming up next week! I'M STOKED!

In other news, I suddenly realized that I'm in completely the wrong mindset to blog right now. I mean, look at the shit above. Totally shitty. Someday soon you'll see one of them insightful blogs, so help me!

Until then, hasta la byebye! (Until then, until the byebye? Oh well...)

It is strange, really. When you think about it, all of my characters in Ansteorra are similar; they're all from out of the country or from the country itself, they're all furres, they're all male adults, none of them wear shoes (ever), they either want lovin' or they get plenty of it, they all have goldish-hued eyes (except for Turosh, but I rarely play him anymore), they're all trim, they're all liable to lose their heads at any given time, they're all racist to some degree (especially Cor, who is scathingly anti-drow), they're all confused by many of the things that happen within the kingdom, they all look back on the past as the good old days, they all have a distinguishing physical feature (Canti has his purple hair, Cor has his tail and newly-amputated left arm, Turosh has his huge ears, and Iolan has the horns), and they're all generally good guys (except Turosh--and Canti post-gholafication).

Anyways, that's just what I was thinking. I had been typing up a slightly more detailed paragraph on why Canti and Iolan in particular were very similar, but those of you who care have probably already noticed this by now. Those of you who know me in real life are wondering why the fuck I'm not talking about prom.

Ok, so I'll talk about prom. It was on the first of the month (hurray for May Day!) and I, as you will know if you are literate, took the great Wafa. First off, I've got to say, Wafa was decked out in this killer red dress that was very very cool on her. Yeah, sure we were going as friends, but that doesn't mean I can't admire the dress, yes? Anyways, we were part of group of twelve which consisted of Adam Nearly-Eaton, Davia, Arugha, Jacqueline (is that how it's spelled?), Hua, Emily, Nick (from the band!), Jessica (not the one you may read about if you click the links to the right--this one's Asian), David (from Decathlon--who IS linked to on the right), Rameetha, and of course Wafa and me. To keep a long story short, I paid way too much for my own mediocre meal, but made up for everything by dancing. Like a mad fucking fox. I'd talk about this more, but I just do not have the proper faculties to convey what I want to about this.

So I will instead talk more about Canti: he r0x0rs.

The end.

Hasta la byebye.