That's Right Mothafucka

Okay, I totally redeemed myself. I spent the whole day completely wowing this girl. She was good in the morning, so she caved, not me. Anyway, she was totally psyched with my awesome skills. "Je sais tout ce qui donne la plaisire aux enfants!" or something.

She is now putty in the palm of my hand around my little finger. or something.

Anyway, I know this is my second Motherfucker in the past 2 titles, but I kick ass. Mothafucka.

Motherfucker cock shit fuck

Okay, so I have a confession to make, I am a good babysitter, I am. But...with good kids. With bad kids, I'm still fine. They won't get hurt or anything. But there is a good chance that I'll hurt them. obviously, child abuse is not funny. But what if the child abuses you?

I can't control this kid. Not that I want to control her, I just want her to stop being a bitch. She totally does things just to piss me off and she doesn't follow the tiniest instructions like "stop hitting your brother." She doesn't say please. She acts like she honestly believes I'll do whatever she says. If I don't, she runs away or hits me. Qu'est-ce que fuck am I supposed to do?

Mary Poppins just won't do--the kids from that movie just needed some love, and love is what I got--this spoiled brat needs Nanny McPhee. Or an exorcist.

Oh well, I'm handling it.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

This is really a post that belongs on my claireischeesy blog, but I don't want certain people to find it. This works though.

Remember all those lessons we learned when we were kids? Every story we heard, every movie we watched tried to teach us something. Don't take candy from strangers, don't lie, believe in yourself, don't judge a book by the cover, dont...make deals with witches, your dead father will always be with you in some way, true beauty lies within, even if someone can't talk, they might still be your true love, humans don't belong in the jungle, etc (lemme know if you think of more...I'm at a loss)

Well, really, other than "don't take candy from strangers" do we really follow those rules until we learn them for ourselves? I didn't. And I'm sure I've taken candy from many a stranger.

Remember the message from Wizard of Oz? There's No Place Like Home.

Oh how I wish I had ruby slippers. It's not that I'm not having fun here, and I know if I met the Scarecrow, Tinman and Lion, I'd be a lot happier. I'll make friends soon, I know. But Dorothy got to bring Toto.

Bedroom Prince had it right when he said "don't go." But I guess there's no way to explain such a thing.

Why wouldn't I go?

Auntie Em was too busy for me and Miss Gulch was trying to steal my dog! No one was paying any attention to me and everything was black and white. I needed new and magical things. I needed attention. I needed colour.

But alas, I'm here for a year and realised too late (or too early) that:

"...if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"

I guess I'll just have to try and enjoy my time in Oz. Maybe Dorothy was happy to pay off her student loan and learn french while she was there.

I just really miss Auntie Em.

Desperate Housewives

"This is what married people do, they go out of their way to calm each others' irrational fears!"

Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta

I can drive stick on a mountain.

Wrong Again?

ps (pre-script) I had phone sex last night. Hot. I totally needed that distraction.

Speaking of distractions, Harry Potter. More to the point, Ron and Hermione. Quand le fuck are they getting together? I seriously cannot wait. I think I have a disease. I've been watching interviews and silly clips on YouTube. I'm seriously sick. I also...really like Ron. Meaning I think he's super hot. Ron from the book, of course, and ...yes, Rupert Grint, too. It's true. I don't care. I totally want him. He's like, what 17 now? Surely, that's fine. My mom is dating a 34 year old, that's 11 years younger than her...so I can sleep with Ron right? Or the twins?

I wish we could have the grown up versions of Harry Potter. Grown up versions meaning everything is the same but we get to see the dirty stuff and hear the swear words. Seriously, I know. I have issues.

mua ha ha ha ha ha!!

I think I'm part evil.

I'm online with Baseball Knight right now, we were flirty slightly dirtily, and he said 'so what's happening with you and your lovah when you get back' and I said 'it'll be the same as always--we'll live together and have an open relationship--does that put a downer on your fantasy?' and he said 'i'm not gonna lie, yes.' and said 'but you never showed signs of wanting more' and he said 'well i did and still do'

and now i'm grinning smugly and excitedly. Why am i so mean?

haha. he's a manwhore, so he'll be fine. whatever. i miss my lovah, i miss excitement, i miss the city and i miss sex.

Whine With My Swiss Cheese

I know that I need to stop complaining. But now I have a headache. I'm allergic to this country. Driving here is fucking ridiculously hard, stupid french is hard, watching children when the mother is around is hard, playing princess when you don't even get to be in charge is hard, cooking meals for picky eaters is hard, being away from loved ones is REALLY hard, not having sex when you want to is hard, not going on the internet to look up erotic stories in private is hard, stupid french is hard and stupid driving is hard. But really I just want my lovah and a bed and my own bed and my own kitchen (shared with some roommates is okay) in english. But I also want to not pay for rent or food and to have opportunities to take karate and clown and fencing and archery and to travel and ...stuff.

I'm here for a reason. But I'm Rory-ing it, and at this headache ridden moment, the cons are outweighing the pros. But I'm here for a reason.

It'll get better, it hasn't even been 2 weeks.

And all of my stupid old insecurities kick in. Blech. No one will like me, I sound stupid, I'm not good at this, I don't fit in...

of course I don't.

oh well. I'll be home at Christmastime.

Send some love to Sion, please.

hella lame

um, you know when you check the computer regularly for signs of life, and you blog at least once a day?

well you know how it feels when other people don't blog?

BLOG AGAIN, ALL OF YOU!

logging, not blogging.

sorry my beloved blog loves. my computer isn't working so i can't write in my room. much like bedroom prince, that's where i blog. so i'm just writing in my journal a lot. i'll copy all of those entries into here because they're good.

love you all and missing you so much that i've performed magic to comfort myself with the memories of you.

WTF?

What the mother cock shit?
Qu'est-ce que fuck?

Switzerland is fucking hot.
Sion is bloody spectacular.
Sexual.
What am I doing here?

I'll write coherent crap later.

I'll Be Home for Christmas

So this is it. I will still be blogging on Quill and Ink to keep you updated with my very personal stuff, but I will be in Switzerland.

I know I never see Miss Pants and Skinny Rabbit is pretty far away, and I almost never see Arts Monkey...okay, so maybe none of you will technically miss me, but I know that knowing I'm not in my bed with my lovah on Clinton will tear you up inside.

And knowing I'm away and you're still here but I'm not here, will tear me up inside. It's going to be a hard year.

Goodbye until tomorrow.

ps you know little baby jaguar? I had dinner with his family last night and at the end, he ran up to me, kissed my leg and said "I'm not going to miss you, bye!"