Saturday, July 26, 2003
the laptop is telling me i have only twelve minutes of power left, but a minute ago it said twenty-three, so we'll have to see how long this lasts. this first entry will be short, mainly a space-filler until i have more time (and battery life) to explore my options, and get my blog at least somewhat cute-looking.
hi. my name's lyndsey kaite. no, that's not my last name, that's my middle name. it's spelled funky, i know. my parents are leftover hippies. on a random note, now i apparently have thirteen minutes. perhaps there's electricity in the air. i'm seventeen years of age, less two weeks. august fourth marks the date in which i officially can see r-rated movies without sneaking in. i'd like to go see the new american pie movie.
anyways, i've deviated from the subject. i'm about to be a senior in high school, which is just all too surreal for my tastes. if asked to advise incoming freshmen about one thing you've observed in high school, it's how quickly time flies. to be uber-cheerleaderesque and uber-cliche, make the most of it before it's gone.
i still have twelve minutes remaining. sometimes i simply don't understand technology.
anyways, i really don't understand why i'm creating this. i have a paper-and-pen journal, which i wildly prefer over my former livejournals - yes, there were many - but every once in awhile, i'm struck by the inspiration to type, especially after i view other blogs.
and on a more random note, who's with me in the absolute hatred of when people stop and read over your shoulder? i'm typing away, and my cousin/uncle wanders over and begins to look over my shoulder. inevitably, questions about what i'm doing, who i'm talking with, etc. seem to follow. no comment, thanx, i plead the fifth? ...
alright, i think it's time for me to head off to bed. or, something. i'm on family vacation, so all my uncles are out on the porch hot-tubbing. i'd join them if it didn't seem weird. my only swimsuit is a bikini, and they're all relatively young, and i'm absolutely not implying anything because really, they are the coolest guys, but, still. an awkward situation i'd like to bypass entirely, thanks.
seven minutes remaining. did i really type all this in only five minutes? it's amazing: new technology allows me to be connected to the internet, chatting with friends, but still my laptop battery clock cannot retain accuracy. small wonder.
love always, lyndsey kaite
hi. my name's lyndsey kaite. no, that's not my last name, that's my middle name. it's spelled funky, i know. my parents are leftover hippies. on a random note, now i apparently have thirteen minutes. perhaps there's electricity in the air. i'm seventeen years of age, less two weeks. august fourth marks the date in which i officially can see r-rated movies without sneaking in. i'd like to go see the new american pie movie.
anyways, i've deviated from the subject. i'm about to be a senior in high school, which is just all too surreal for my tastes. if asked to advise incoming freshmen about one thing you've observed in high school, it's how quickly time flies. to be uber-cheerleaderesque and uber-cliche, make the most of it before it's gone.
i still have twelve minutes remaining. sometimes i simply don't understand technology.
anyways, i really don't understand why i'm creating this. i have a paper-and-pen journal, which i wildly prefer over my former livejournals - yes, there were many - but every once in awhile, i'm struck by the inspiration to type, especially after i view other blogs.
and on a more random note, who's with me in the absolute hatred of when people stop and read over your shoulder? i'm typing away, and my cousin/uncle wanders over and begins to look over my shoulder. inevitably, questions about what i'm doing, who i'm talking with, etc. seem to follow. no comment, thanx, i plead the fifth? ...
alright, i think it's time for me to head off to bed. or, something. i'm on family vacation, so all my uncles are out on the porch hot-tubbing. i'd join them if it didn't seem weird. my only swimsuit is a bikini, and they're all relatively young, and i'm absolutely not implying anything because really, they are the coolest guys, but, still. an awkward situation i'd like to bypass entirely, thanks.
seven minutes remaining. did i really type all this in only five minutes? it's amazing: new technology allows me to be connected to the internet, chatting with friends, but still my laptop battery clock cannot retain accuracy. small wonder.
love always, lyndsey kaite
