.why i love Amelie.

I love it when Amelie takes off her shirt. The cutest thing Amelie does is when she wins, she does this eyepoke thing. The thing I regret most is not being able to see Amelie play live yet. Amelie makes me mad when she plays a crappy match. The best memory I have of Amelie is of her winning Wimbledon in 2006, since it's my first memory of her. I love that little thing Amelie does when makes all those weird faces during interviews. I can't stand it when Amelie smiles. If I could want anything for Amelie it would be for her to win every Grand Slam she plays until retirement, thus becoming world #1 again. I remember the day when my mom called Dinara Safina Amelie's girlfriend and I got jealous. Amelie's best physical feature is her eyes. When Amelie gets mad, she shouts at people and looks scary, but I love her anyway. I love Amelie even when she loses and loses and loses. Amelie turns me on when she does that thing with her hands, and I'm like, "Whoa!" Amelie should date me because I love her more than anyone ever could. A song that reminds me of Amelie is Enrique Iglesias' Somebody's Me. What I love about Amelie the most is the fact that she's so direct and honest and funny. Three words that describes Amelie are .sweet .unattainable .gorgeous

That's why, dammit.

Viva la Vida

Viva la Vida

I used to rule the world,
Seas would rise when I gave the word,
Now in the morning I sweep alone,
Sweep the streets I used to own.
Helen and Carin came over today. Nothing big, we watched Fiddler on the Roof and managed to finish up Gia. Gia's a lot shorter than I thought it would be without the sex scenes. Lots of funny crap during the movies, Helen and I got really high. For example...
CARIN: Jonas Brothers.
ME: Chastity ring.
HELEN: Hishamuddin.
ME: Pervert!
CARIN: *confused look* Chishamuddin???
My god, that girl's a riot! Helen was practically in tears as was I, but we calmed down enough to tell her what we really were talking about. Anyway, the rest of the afternoon went well. We ordered McD's and whaddaya know? Cute (and very honest) McD's delivery guy. I think I might be ordering McD's in for the rest of the week. When he came around the second time, I kinda wanted to tell him to come again or something equally witty, but naaaah.
I used to roll the dice,
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes,
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key,
Next the walls were closed on me,
And I discovered that my castles stand,
Upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand.
So, Naz doesn't like Justine Henin very much. Not me, I like Henin just fine, I think she has sexy eyebrows. We were talking about her today, when I was complaining about my height and going pro. According to Naz, Henin's a lot like Martina Hingis, who was always quick to criticize, but couldn't take it when someone else slammed her. NAZ: She doesn't exactly think before opening her mouth. She reminds me of Hingis, quick to criticise people but doesn't like it when people do it to her. Justine Hingis-Hardenne, *fake apologetic tone* oh, sorry, I totally meant Henin.
Anyway, I like Henin. She's very sweet, especially when Amelie kicked her ass all over the court. Sadly. my girlfriend hasn't been doing any ass-kicking lately. Could it be because of her new woman? Hm... Hurry up and get used to little Ms Marie de Villepin, Amelie, and then go out there and bash Serena Williams up (revenge for Wimbledon) or something.
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing,
Roman Calvary choirs are singing,
Be my mirror my sword and shield,
My missionaries in a foreign field,
For some reason I can't explain,
Once you know there was never, never an honest word,
That was when I ruled the world.
Okay, I've just found out that Amelie's been wearing heels, which is probably why she's started playing such ass-crap tennis. By the way, Amy, I need a fedora, since Amelie has one. Let's go shopping. Ohmygod, did I actually volunteer to go shopping with Amy Chin Yee Ling? Whatever, I'll need practice for the end of the year. And I want a fedora. Supposed to buy Vivien Vans for her birthday, which is coming up, so I'll need to go to KLCC for that, too. Oh, hey, I didn't know that Amelie modelled for Versace. And YSL. Haha, now I can sing Keep Your Hands Off My Girl and it works! Or Marie can sing Keep Your Hands Off My Girl. Whatever. I'm happy for them. They match and everything. Marie's got blonde streaks, so does Amelie. And they're both French. The other day when I told Amy and Fida that Amelie was dating some French model, Fida looked at me with a what-the-fuck look and asked me, "How the hell are you gonna compete with her?" They're trying to get me to be more feminine. Eugh. Whatever, if it's going to get me Amelie, well, you all know that I'd go to hell and back for her!
It was the wicked and wild wind,
Blew down the doors to let me in,
Shattered windows and the sound of drums,
People couldn't believe what I'd become,
Revolutionaries wait,
For my head on a silver plate,
Just a puppet on a lonely string,
Who would ever want to be king?
Anyway, I fucked orchestra practice today and went for some movie thing at SFX. The Lifeteen group were showing this movie (Linda was really happy to see me, haha) that some people showed at WYD, but I didn't get to see, called Bella. It was a really good movie, something about unwanted pregnancy and the Lifeteen group had a discussion after that, about abortion, and you all know how much I love kids and how pro-life I am, so I really enjoyed that. There was some talk about the church's stand on abortion and whatnot. Glad to know the church and I actually agree on something. According to mom, the jury's still out on whether or not being an LGBT is wrong, but whatever. All I want is Amelie in heaven. Was hoping to see Anil at the Lifeteen thing but he wasn't. The group discussion was fun, though. My group leader, I think his name was Kevin, was pretty cool and we shared the same opinion on a lot of things, so that went pretty well.
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing,
Roman Calvary choirs are singing,
Be my mirror, my sword and shield,
My missionaries in a foreign field,
For some reason I can't explain,
I know Saint Peter will call my name,
Never an honest word,
But that was when I ruled the world.
Okay, I'm officially weird. Today, I swear I had this urge to yell at random people, "You in the back, you are dying soon!" And I kept asking everyone where I could get a black or pink band that says Stop Homophobia. Three guesses. Yeah, Amelie wears it. AND my phone has a neon pink pixel on it, for which I thank my bestie. Ooh, hey. Guess what else, people? I've just noticed that Amelie and I sortakinda have the same hands. Only mine are big and big and big and hers are kinda big and her fingers are really slender and very nice. Her fingernails are short! Okay *big yawn* I'm tired and high. Post ends here.
Hear Jerusalem bells are ringing,
Roman calvary choirs are singing,
Be my mirror, my sword and shield,
My missionaries in a foreign field,
For some reason I can't explain,
I know Saint Peter will call my name,
Never an honest word,
But that was when I ruled the world.

Steph

--dear mademoiselle amelie 01

I'm going to keep writing to Amelie.

Dear Mademoiselle Amelie
Your body is cut from stone: your sculpturical hands, your sculpturical legs and feet, your sculpturical torso, your sculpturical head, all that, at one beautiful moment will fall down on me and I’ll be buried under these ruins of yours.
But, sometimes, your face looks like an angel’s one. Well, in life, there is everything whatever may happen.

Love,
Stephanie.

--amelie and pik ee

So, Pik Ee suggested that I write a letter to Amelie. I thought about it, and here it is. Enjoy.

Dear Mademoiselle Amelie,
If your eyes were lakes, I’d like to be drowned into one of them,
If your forehead were a plain, I’d like to be incinerated by the lightning in the midst of it,
If your nose were a mountain, I’d like to be covered with snow on its top,
If your mouth were a volcano… well, you can imagine what I’d like to be then.

and

Dear Mademoiselle Amelie,
I’m standing now on the balcony and gazing at the ground, slightly bowing down toward it. This is because you keep losing. Could you come up and give me a kick so that this ground become closer (you may kiss me good-bye if you like).

Love,
Stephanie Fernandez.

And a poem...

I ame sad for Amelie,
I ame angry with the results,
I ame baffled that she can't get past round one anymore,
I ame unsure about her future,
I ame mellow when she wears yellow,
I ame happy when she is happy.

I ame what I ame. And you can IM me. Hee.

--hey there Ms. Palin

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Say It's Possible

Say It's Possible

I see the lights are turning,
And I look outside,
The stars are burning,
Through this changing time,
It could have been anything we want,
It's fine,
Salvation was just a passing thought,
It was just a passing thought.
I stumbled across this song, and I thought, "Hey! This is a perfect song for Amelie!" I know I may say that I abso-fucking-lutely hate and despise her at times... I don't hate and despise her, I hate and despise her lack of commitment. Hell, Amelie, you know that I'm a huge commitment-phobe. If one of us can't be committed, who will? Our relationship's gonna fall apart. Okay, I'm getting way ahead of myself here. Let's go back to talking about Amelie's lack of commitment. When it comes to my music, everyone knows I'm committed. I put in at least three hours of practice a day. I want to make something out of my violin skills. As for Amelie, hell, what the fuck is she doing? Really, when I love and support someone as much as I do Amelie, they just shouldn't mess with me by pretending to win, and then losing. Stupid Amelie Mauresmo. No, I don't mean that. So, yeah, I'm saying that it is possible for Amelie to win at least one Grand Slam next year. What she should do is hire Martina Navratilova as her coach and take it from there. I'm saying it's possible for her to pull off this comeback. She's already started, and people? I dare you to argue.
Don't wait,
Act now,
This amazing offer won't last long,
It's only a chance to pave the path we're on,
I know there are more exciting things to talk about,
And in time we'll sort it out,
And in time we'll sort it out.
So, I had a good week. Amy came over to work on our BM project thingy, but in the end, to quote Amy, we fucked it and surfed the net and played violin instead. I swear to god, I have so much fun with that girl! Even if she's trying to turn me into a diva with "good fashion sense", she's one of the people I consider my besties. She's hilarious, too. The other day, Amy and I were talking about someone, and Arif kept asking, "Sape tu?" We totally blew him off, but then, a few minutes later, Amy went, "Sape tu? Sape tu? Bapak kau!" I looked at her like she was nuts for a second, then I completely fell apart laughing! It was so damn funny. Anyway, Amy didn't wanna play the violin for me, so I played a couple of pieces instead, then made her play Long Long Ago, following my tap (just like crazy Ms Chan does). Amy looked at me like I was nuts, but yeah, she played it. Then, Maria Sharapova (who totally sucks -- tall, blonde, straight, bimbo) poses from Amy, which I'll upload in a little bit. Mom asked Amy to help me go shopping for Christmas clothes. Ohgod, can I please run away to -- I don't know, Paris or Majorca or somewhere? I'd rather slice my tongue out than go shopping with the Nazis.
And though they say it's possible to me,
I don't see how it's probable,
I see the course we're on,
Spinning farther from what I know,
I'll hold on,
Tell me that you won't let go,
Tell me that you won't let go.
Ash and I usually e-mail each other ever two or three days. When we e-mail, we sometimes discuss Amelie. Just the other day, Ash suggested that Amelie's been reading our e-mails, since we were talking about how much she should fire her coach, Loic Corteau. In the next e-mail, check out how I started it off:
Hi Amelie,
Just want you to know that Ash and I are totally cool with your reading our e-mail. You of course know how much Ash and I care for you and want only the best for you. So if reading our suggestions helps you, well, we couldn't be happier. You looked awesome in the black and gray at the U.S. Open, so glad you liked our suggestion for that. And while it's going to be tough breaking with Loic after all you've been through together, and how close you are, I really believe that Ash and I are right about that too. And Martina really is the one for you now, Ash and I both agree on that. Martina's been through so many of the same things as you, and like you, also is incredibly bright and sensitive. She'll demand a lot from you, as she did of herself. But with her coaching and your renewed commitment (which was so obvious during the U.S. hardcourt season--I'm so proud of you for that!) you'll be back to winning and Grand Slams again, I know it! Finally, one other change we need to talk about... Geraldine! You deserve so much, better, Amelie. You gotta trust Ash and me on this--we only want what's best for. And, hey, we haven't steered you wrong so far, have we? Okay, Amelie, now go hire Martina and say goodbye to Geraldine. And if you need some encouragement as you go through these changes, just give Ash or me a call--we'll take your calls anytime, you know that!
Okay, Amelie, I'm now gonna write Ash. We love you Amelie,
--Steph and Ash
And truth is such a funny thing with all these people,
Keep on telling me they know what's best,
And what to be frightened of,
And all the rest are wrong,
They know nothing about us,
They know nothing about us.
School was ass-boring today, Ruindra didn't come. The art teacher, Hisham is so superfuckingperverted, He's got this thing for beautiful girls *coughs* that made him come over and bug me and Amy half the time. We kinda ignored him, though. He kept talking about Dockers pants and how much he paid for his, which were bloody cheap, by the way, I don't think they were originals. I should know, I go shopping with Nickolai and Mr Diva over there loveslovesloves his Dockers. My dad likes Dockers, too, and he pays more for his Dockers than I pay for my S&K cargos. Let's see, shall we? My Samuel & Kevin cargos cost like, RM115 a pair, and Nick pays like, double that for a pair of Dockers. Which is why you don't see me walking around in a pair of straight-cut slacks. Don't get me wrong, I love my cargos, they're the only pants with enough pockets for me, but I'll bet that slacks would make my butt look a good bit smaller. Okay, I'll see what Amy has to say about that. Anyway, today, I wrote BALLS:) on Amy's liquid paper pen.
And though they say it's possible to me,
I don't see how it's probable,
I see the course we're on,
Spinning farther from what I know,
I'll hold on,
Tell me that you won't let go,
Tell me that you won't let go.
AMY: Ninny! *hold up pen*
ME: Huh? *innocent look* What?
AMY: Come on, Ninny, it's so obvious that you wrote it!
ME: I swear I didn't write it! I swear on...
AMY: Swear on your grave.
ME: *confused look* I'm not dead... I swear on Amelie. *crosses fingers*
AMY: *uncrosses my fingers* Swear again.
ME: *sighs* Okay, okay, I swear on Amelie... that I did it!
This could be something beautiful,
Combine our love into something wonderful,
But times are tough,
I know,
And the pull of what we can't give up takes hold.

Steph

--aisyah's tag

.Each player of this game starts off with 15 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself.
.People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 15 weird things/habits/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly.
.At the end, you need to choose five people to be tagged and list their names.
.No tags back.

1. I drink milk out of the carton.
2. I actually like the colour pink.
3. For me, Amelie Mauresmo is so much more than god.
4. I don't believe in god.
5. I'm politically aware and am in total support of gay rights for Malaysia.
6. Even if I believed in god, I would think that being gay isn't a sin.
7. I think a lot, even if I don't act like it.
8. When I like someone a lot, I tend to try and make them mad. Yeah, I do live up to the old, "She only teases you because she likes you."
9. When I really, really like someone, I act all loud and obnoxious with them.
10. If you tell me to do something in a way that pisses me off, I'll do the opposite.
11. I don't think Russell Peters is funny. Ever since he got the "What the fuck" thing wrong, I've lost all respect for him. It's not from Italy, asshole, it's from Brazil. Margaret Cho and Sarah Silverman and Ellen DeGeneres rock.
12. I prefer comfort over fashion.
13. Pain is love for me. Tattoos and piercings and scars.
14. I don't like people telling me, in public, how awesome I am. Save it, suck ups.
15. I am a feminist!

I tag:
Sulekha (again)
Vivien
Amanda
Benjamin
Carmen

--ash's tag

Okay, so this tag is about being obsessed with someone. Looks like some fun shit, so yeah, I'll give it a go.

Do you talk to that person a lot?
Nope.
Do you know a lot about them?
Yeah. Her birthday, her mom's name, her girlfriends, her pets, her numberplate, her favorite foods.
Do you stalk them?
What do you think? But personally, I don't think so.
Do you spy on them in their house?
I would if I could. The other day, I can't remember who it was that I was talking to, I think it was Charmaine, I said that if I were invisible, I'd totally watch her 24/7.
Do you follow them?
Soon. In Beijing.
Do people accuse you of stalking?
Yeah. Vivien, Amy, Sulekha. Those people.
Do you really like them?
YES!
Do you really hate them?
...sometimes when she plays crappy tennis.
Do you think about them a lot?
Duh. Like every minute.
Do you always want their opinion of things?
Yes. Amelie and I would be such a sexy, charismatic couple, I tell you. We'd go matching! Like Federer and Mrs Federer... or something.
Do you ever try to hurt them?
No, I only try to hurt Geraldine.
Do you try to keep others away from them?
I would if I could. Back off, Kuznetsova and Molik!
Do you get jealous of them, when they talk to others?
No, I get jealous of the people who talk to her.
Do you try to "punish" them when they don't do what you want?
Yeah, Jesus, if I had a voodoo doll...
Do you think you're just the littlest bit obsessed?
Obsessed? Who, me? No way...

I tag:
Sulekha
Pik Ee
Aisyah
Amy
Amelia.

Sleep to Dream

Sleep to Dream

I tell you how I feel, but you don't care,
I say tell me the truth, but you don't dare,
You say love is a hell you cannot bear,
And I say give me mine back and then go there for all I care.
So, since I've had nothing much to do, I've been reading Indigo Blue, which is some Japanese Manga thingy. Very, very explicit (hell, I was like, "Whoa!", and everyone who knows me remotely well probably knows that it takes a lot to WHOA! me) and not much help with practising my Japanese since I'm reading the English translation thingy. Nice storyline, though. I'm also reading lots and lots of Jodi Picoult. I got The Pact on Saturday at Borders in Times Square, along with Abha Dawesar's Babyji. Ohmygod, Babyji is amazing. I read the review up on some website and I knew I had to get the book. Stupid MPH was out of stock with it and mom was going out on Staurday. She asked me if I wanted anything (I'd stayed up until 3am on Friday night, basically getting wasted with Naz, Nick, Carmen, Darah and Mel, then woke up at 6am for training, so I was completely KO'd), so I told her that I wanted The Pact by Jodi Picoult and Babyji by Abha Dawesar, silently praying that she didn't read the review of Babyji. Looks like she didn't (she actually commended my taste in books, haha) and she bought them for me. I've just finished The Pact and have yet to get my nose stuck in Babyji (except for the first couple of chapters), since Naz has commandeered use of it first. Looks like I'll be waiting for about another three days, but no matter.
I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream,
You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem,
This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways,
So don't forget what I told you, don't come around, I got my own hell to raise.
Okay, I'll admit that when I get into the mood, I can spend a scary amount on shopping - especially on books, electronics and DVDs. I spoiled myself this weekend on Sunday when Naz and I went out for lunch and I found Angelina Jolie's Gia (yes, that's the limited edition movie where she acted as America's first supermodel, be very jealous, people) and I got it. Helen's gonna come over and we can watch it together sometime over McDonald's or pizza or whatever. Yeah, I'll admit that I'll probably be staring at Angelina (have I mentioned how good she and Amelie would look together?) half the time and not be concentrating on the storyline, but I can always count on Helen to tell it to me again later. So, yeah, I'll admit to being materialistic, but not in the clothes way. I'm one of those people who wears what's comfortable, and nobody's gonna change that, if I was given a choice. Still, we've got Vivien and Amy lurking around, trying to get me into strappy red dresses. I'll have you chicas know that my cargos do the job - I've never had to carry a handbag, and they're comfortable. Mom's even thinking of recruiting them to take me shopping for something to wear at next year's Confirmation. Jesus. Yes, Amy, I'm materialistic, but you and Bunwoman won't be shoving me into a skirt. Can we compromise and I'll wear pants? Nice pants, they don't have to be cargos. Helen and Carin, I so totally need you guys there for moral support as Vivien and Amy try to make a girly girl out of me.
I have never been so insulted in all my life,
I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride,
First you run like a fool just to be at my side,
And now you run like a fool but you just run to hide,
I can't abide.
Anyway, yesterday evening, I went to Hartamas for dinner. Mel's never been out to the Ramadan food bazaar before, so I thought I'd take her. Being a total smart person, I had my new Motorokr with me (yes, the one I got the week before last - touch screen and everything) and I was messing around with the stylus and acting the fool with Mel, as usual. As we were walking in the food bazaar, this bloody Mamak/Malay/Muslim/what-the-fuck-ever (fucking take me to jail if you dare, I don't give a shit) girl just came up to Mel and slapped her on the ass. My jaw dropped open and I just saw red. Well, to be honest, my jaw isn't the only thing that dropped. My Motorokr went sliding into one of those little drain thingys, and as a result, it's scratched all down the front. The screen's okay, but the SIM card holder got fucked up and now, it doesn't close properly, so it doesn't read my SIM. Let's not get into what happened with the Malay dyke, but yeah. I was so pissed. The first day I decide to use my Motorokr, this is what happens. Fuck that bloody useless dyke. I know nobody wants to lay you cause your so damn ugly - not even a makeover by Jay Manuel could fix that - but keep your hands to yourself! I swear I'll rip your fucking tits off and then we'll see what you have to say for yourself.
I got my feet on the ground,
Don't make it a big deal, don't be so sensitive,
We're not playing a game anymore,
You don't have to be defensive.
So, I'm back to using my v3xx, which isn't that bad. I've grown attached to it, anyway. It's kinda like a part of me, and I'm sure you guys will agree - you see me at school with it in my wallet, you'll see me anywhere with it, cause it's so slim and easy to sling around in my hands. The Motorokr didn't do that, but it was a pretty good phone. I haven't told dad yet, his birthday was yesterday and I so, so don't wanna piss him off. Especially since the Motorokr was a present/bribe from him cause he's going to work in Singapore. According to him, it's for the best, but for whom? As much as I'd hate to admit it to his face, I don't want him to leave, and I'm sure mom doesn't, either. Hell, who's gonna play mediator when mom and I are about to kill each other when she's spewing out gay-talk at me? Whatever, as usual, I'll act as if I'm completely indifferent to it. He says that if everything goes well, he and mom will go to Tokyo with Naz and me for the WTA tournament. Oh, shit. How the hell am I supposed to stalk Amelie like that? Naz and I had it all planned out (did I mention that we both speak no Japanese?) - we were supposed to leave on the second week of October and spend a couple of days getting adjusted, stay in one of those dirt-cheap capsule hotels and eat Japanese food (*vomits*), and now what?
Don't you plead me your case, don't bother to explain,
Don't even show me your face cause it's a crying shame,
Just go back to the rock from under which you came,
Take the sorrows you gave and all the stakes you claim,
And don't forget to blame.
So, there's this teacher in my school. Tan Siew Yean. And she teaches me English. I'd just like to say right now that she's the biggest bitch I've ever had the misfortune to study with. She thinks that she owns the goddamned planet and that everyone has to bow down to her. Anyway, she called me stupid today, and said I was influencing Xin Yi. Hell, I was just imitating Ikhwan (he's the History teacher) and Xin Yi was laughing. Hell, I haven't seen that girl in I don't know how long and all we were doing was catching up. Obviously, Tan's never heard of catching up since she has no friends. I hope your husband goes and fucks some other woman nd you die alone. What the hell gives you the right to judge me? If Carin and Helen and Sarah, the freaking pastor's daughter don't judge me, who the hell are you to do that, bitch? Naz, fucking... arrest/sue/whatever her or something. I have no patience for bitches/sluts/whores like you. And you don't even have the goddamn fucking decency or common sense to give me an A for English (thanks for making me feel better about it, Raksha!), but we all know that my English is the most kickass in 4 Gemilang. Go fuck yourself, bitch. God, I hate you. I'd kill you in a heartbeat.
Don't you plead me your case, don't bother to explain,
Don't even show me your face cause it's a crying shame,
Just go back to the rock from under which you came,
Take the sorrows you gave and all the stakes you claim,
And don't forget to blame,
I got my feet on the ground...

Less-than-fucking-three,
Steph

And I fucking miss you, grandpa. Every fucking day.

--hee.

Naz: Lets get some things straight, I like the US soccer team. They look good. I'd sleep with them all.
Me: Uh... What about Carly Boxx?
Naz: No, not her. I'm not done. The Brazilian soccer team girls don't look that good. I don't want to give an explanation on that.
Me: What about Christy Rampone?
Naz: Ew, no. I'm not finished. But we have a fact here. Beyond that, we should respect their two World Cup titles and two Olympic medals
Me: Um... Lori Chalupney?
Naz: No! Hang on, I said I'm not done. Also, the Brazilian Women's footie league sucks ass, the media does not give a damn about it and the American players usually go abroad to gather experience and a decent wage.
Me: What about... Carli Lloyd?
Naz: No!
Me: Natasha Kai?
Naz: Even more, no.
Me: But you said you'd sleep with anyone of them...

the brilliant dance

So this is odd,
The painful realization,
That all has gone wrong,
And nobody cares at all,
And nobody cares at all.
So you buried all your lover's clothes,
And burned the letters lover wrote,
But it doesn't make it any better,
Does it make it any better?
And the plaster dented from your fist,
In the hall where you had your first kiss,
Reminds you that the memories will fade.
So this is strange,
Our sidestepping has come to be,
A brilliant dance,
Where nobody leads at all,
Where nobody leads at all.
And the picture frames are facing down,
And the ringing from this empty sound,
Is deafening and keeping you from sleep,
And breathing is a foreign task,
And thinking's just too much to ask,
And you're measuring your minutes by a clock that's blinking eights.
Well, this is incredible,
Starving, insatiable,
Yes, this is love for the first time,
And you'd like to think that you were invincible,
Yeah, well, weren't we all once,
Before we felt loss for the first time?
Well, this is the last time.

As much as I hate to admit it, I miss you. Yeah, I miss you. I miss your hair, your laugh, your dumb expressions, your accent and the way you made me feel like I was the only girl in your life. Such a lie, but I'd believe it, anyway. God, I miss you. And you'd better fucking read this, cause then maybe you'd call me and we'd discuss how minging (quote you, cutie) your current girlfriend is. And she is. We were a good fit, ey? And with all that's been said and done between us, we had a good time together. I really did love you. You helped me find myself, and a certain hot DJ, but the DJ, as much as I love music, isn't a tiny (by European standards, but I'd probably be taller than you now), somewhat fragile, blonde writer.

Ah...

Well. Thought I'd use a smiling photo.

(She's making a lame excuse for stealing his pacifier.)

And meanwhile,

Uncle Federer made the semis.

But whatever.

You know they love each other.

Just as much as they love smiling. (Me: NO, NO!)

See ya.

--and it didn't even have to be edited!

Check this out, people... ROGER FEDERER! He looks like someone stole his pacifier. And it didn't even have to be edited, ey, Helen? :)

And for your viewing pleasure...

.surprise, surprise.

Hey woman

Thought I'd leave my mark (kinda like the way dogs piss on flowerpots) and surprise you.

Surprise! :)

(No offense, babes. She would think it was funny too. Anyway, I saw it and thought you'd appreciate seeing it, y'know. She looks so hot and all. - stifles snort - :)

Sarah, I bet you will 'just cracked up.' A good picture to use against Steph when she rails insults at you. ;)

See, Steph. You're surprised, aren't you? I bet you all expected me to post up a Federer pic or something. But I've proved you wrong. - wicked laugh -

NOT.

What can I say? I'm weak, and he's in the QF's.

Oh. A moment of silence for Amelie, who played her heart out, especially at match point. Really. :) Donations for the Mauresmo Career Fund can be sent to Stephanie Fernandez.

Anyway. Steph. Dare you to find one that unflattering of Roger and post it here.

Love ya woman.

Helen.

.I swear to drunk I'm not god

Would you fuck _____?
Yes, I would.
Would you get a tattoo?
If _____ did it, yes.
Is it just to get close to her?
What other reason is there?
That’s against the rules, _____.
Don’t answer a question with a question. Fine! Fucking stupid head _____ with your dumb muscles and, and hair…on your head.
How drunk are you?
Is that really a question?
Yes, and stop breaking rules.
So drunk I might just do something crazy like try and find _____.
Hung up on a girl that quick. Only took an hour too. New world record.
I told you I never lie.
What makes you think she’s gay?
She pings my gaydar hardcore.
Who says that?
Only me…
_____, you are like the little gay sister I always wish I had.
Yeah ‘cause your sister is a bitch.
Yes she is. _____kins, you sure you are doing all right?
I think she’s doing just fine, but just to be safe we’re going to keep the tequila away.
Ah, lover, you’re so wasted.
Naughty, naughty _____.
I guess _____ was right.
Fucking fuckface _____ can go to hell.
Naughty, naughty _____. _____ is your friend.
Well, what is she so right about? Why isn’t she here then? Why’d she just storm out without any expla… explune… explalna… reason?
*laughs*
Shut up, that is a hard word!
Explanation.
Yeah, one of those. _____, could you please put me down?
Sorry _____kins, sometimes I think you’re too cute.
You wouldn’t be telling me that if I had a fat ass.
That’s not true. _____ likes fat asses.
Does he now?
Yeah, don’t you remember his last boyfriend, Russ?
That was your boyfriend? I thought that was your cousin.
Ew no!
Thank God, because I was starting to have serious doubts about you.

Okay, here's the thing. The people in bold, italic and normal fonts are three different people. I won't say who. The names censored and underlined are different people, you'll know who they are by the colours of the lines. I am NOT going to say who these idiots are. It could prove to be pretty embarrassing.

And Amelie? Seriously, fuck you for losing. You don't know how fucking disappointed I am with you. Just... fuck you, okay? Silly woman. And this doesn't mean I'm out of love with you. I'm very much scarily, stalkerishly, insanely still in love with you (wish I wasn't, maybe if you stopped being so hot...). I expected you to do better. Dumbass. I love you, lahkay? Stop losing, will you? Jesus, you need a slap.

And god doesn't exist, SARAH!

--barfday boy

"No, no, don't worry, it's only the fake last song. We'll walk off stage, you'll go "WOOHOO!" and we'll come back out and do one more."

- Nick from Dirtnote

Happy birthday to Nick-ie, who always knows what I need, when I need it. You know what I hate and what pisses me off, you know who I love, you know when I PMS, you know how to talk me out of going on-stage drunk, and you know why I suddenly burst into tears.Anyway, you really should know how much I love you, because you put up with me and Naz, because you text me in the wee hours of the morning, talking me out of suicide when Amelie loses, because you held me when Grandpa died, because I'm the only girl you don't hate!
So, yeah, you're my dyke tyke, my drummer, my bitch, my favorite cousin, my psychiatrist, my punchingbag, my verbal sparring partner, my fellow camwhore, and everything and anything else I might have forgotten. And even if I don't act like it or say it all the time, you're a huge sweetheart and I love you, yeah?


And I hope you DID get this,

This,

And this for your birthday.

And if you didn't... Well, blame Naz. I was all set to get you Michael Phelps.

Take What's Mine

Take What’s Mine

I'm surrounded softly by the beat,

Still dumbfounded by the intolerable heat.

I’ve been listening to Baumer for quite a while now. I know nothing about the band but this song is just so… I don’t know. Naz says that the word I’m looking for is “seductive”, and for once, that idiot might just be right. Anyway, we caught Jelena Jankovic’s match, she almost got trampled on buy the really pretty Caroline Wozniacki. Wozniacki’s just so sweet. She’s one of those girls that Ana Ivanovic used to be – without the foot-squeaking on hard courts. I was pretty scared that Jelena would lose, but in the end, as per usual, she pulled up her socks and pulled out the winners, so all was well with her. Amelie’s doing well, too. Kudos to her! This is pretty much the best she’s done all season – see how well my girl can play when she’s not injured? And she looks damn good, too. Totally rocking the (short, short) black tennis dress. And *lowers voice so Amy and Vivien don’t hear* most of my shirts are black, so Amelie and I match! Finally! I was getting sick of all the bright colors Reebok was stuffing her into. My girl’s a rocker, dammit!

You came close to me and you danced,

It came close to being my last.

Okay, now to get down to the serious stuff (yeah, right, when am I ever serious?). As a musician – I reserve the right to call myself a musician; I play the violin, drums and guitar, I can spin a mean mix and I’m the front(wo)man of Dirtnote – I find that the music they play on the radio, Fly, Hitz, whatever you may listen to, is complete, utter crap. I mean, who gives a fuck if you kissed a girl, Katy Perry? We really don’t need to know if you wanna make love in whatever club, Usher. And Leona Lewis, stop cutting yourself; take it from me, bleeding love is just not healthy. And what the fuck is hip-hop? Okay, 50 Cent, Eminem and Jay-Z are probably gonna do a drive-by shooting on me, but can you honestly tell me what they’re saying? And Chris Brown whines, he and Rihanna (who slurs her words) are meant to be together! So sue me, I said it. As for the “bands” they have on the radio now – they were so much better when nobody listened to them. What they’re trying to do now is please the norm – something I swear Dirtnote would never do. What happened to all the good stuff, like Vertical Horizon, Switchfoot, Tori Amos, Michelle Branch, Something Corporate? Why does it have to be something that’s 459b/pm and has nothing but a steel drum beat to it?

I'll take what's mine before I regret it,

And mute this feeling not to often get.

Okay, so maybe all hip-hop doesn’t suck. Kudos to a few musicians or groups who’ve managed to find a way into my MP3 player – Yo Majesty, Mz Fontaine, Miss Money, 2Pac and JenRO. Oh, god, I just realized I have approximately eight hip-hop songs on my MP3 player. I hate it more than I thought. And 2Pac is the only man on the not-hate list. And you know what about 2Pac? He’s dead. Like Saddam Hussein. So, anyway, in case you guys didn’t know… We’ve got this band. And it’s got a really lame name cause we came up with it when we were drunk or stoned (or in my case, both, but let’s not talk about that). We’re called Dirtnote and I, for one, really think you should support us. We solemnly swear that once we become famous, we won’t be cocky assholes like Fall Out Boy or Daughtry. We promise you that we’ll completely maintain our Blink-182-ness and be as crazy and confused and dumb as we always were. Well, there’s no changing the dumb part of us, anyway. This is why you should support us. I don’t think we’re very good, but we’re not posers. We’re here, we’re queer and… I forgot the rest, but whatever, you guys should support us cause we’re cool – in a completely lame, nerdy way. Hell, our drummer got 7As for his PMR. How much more nerdy can you get?

You seem capable of mind control,

You've disabled my very soul.

Anyway, there are a few Dirtnote icons here and if you love me – come on people, help me out – you’ll save them and use them on MSN. Just for five minutes or whatever, but we’ve tried to make them funny so you guys will keep them on till we’re famous. Our website should be up and running in a couple of days, so yeah. USE THEM ICONS… Please?

I'll take what's mine before I regret it,

And mute this feeling not to often get.

<3

Steph