Hey, y'all! Ok, this is just a little Kagome's diary thing that I've done
for fun, duh. Inu/Kag, eventually...fun, fun....Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum...some facts
about Japan aren't exactly top shape, but, um, I liked the details so too
bad.
I will update this every three days to a week depending on how long the chapters are or depending on my schedule.
All the chapter titles are named after Italian songs from the eighteenth and seventeenth centuries, just because I sing them. Nirvana rocks and enjoy the story!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
VITTORIA, MIO CORE! (Victorious my heart is)
April 23 2004, the cafeteria, 11:55
I am NOT a geek. I'm just......original. I don't tuck my shirt into my pants, I wear skirts, and, even if I've never talked to a boy before in my life (besides my grandpa, brother, friend, and of course, Hojo......he doesn't really count, though, for obvious reasons), everyone says that I'd be a great girlfriend. If anyone ever decided to ask me out. Which I just know they wouldn't, since I am a total and complete NERD. But I am NOT a geek. Just a nerd. Sure, I'm not quite the Queen of the Nerds (yet), but it's there, that ever present label that I can almost feel plastered on my forehead whenever one of the 'popular' people look my way.
And they aren't really all that popular. Did you know that, by dictionary definition, the word 'popular' means well liked? And no one likes the so-called 'popular' group. Except for themselves. In fact, I think I'll start calling that group the 'mushroom' group, just because they can be all cute and junk on the outside, but beneath that adorable little surface they're really just a poisonous little fungus.
Don't give me that look. I am NOT a geek.
And to prove it, I shall amend that I have a nice little group of friends with whom I am socializing quite nicely with, despite some previous problems......ahem Sango, for one, who, if not extremely......erm......mushroom-y, is quite popular, by dictionary definition, of course. And beautiful. Gads, if only I had those eyes......or those lips......or that nose, or that hair......Ok, I wish I looked more like her, in general. Then I would be thinner, much thinner, and therefore I would, if my observations are correct, attract more guys. Like, oh, I dunno.......Inu-Yasha?
If only HE were my friend......then I would be able to actually socialize with him, get on his good side, and then, once he gets to know my GREAT personality, BAM. We'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. And he wouldn't care about any of those other overly preppy girls he hangs out with, now, either. Nope. He'd only care about me. ;)
I'm also not very selfish, I swear.
Sidetracked. Again. I tend to do that a lot when I'm thinking about Inu-Yasha. His beautiful hair, gorgeous eyes which, in certain light, almost look golden, and, of course, his great, GREAT body always captivate nearly every one of my thoughts on every day of the week (except Sunday......I have NO idea why). Oh yeah, and his personality. That's important, too. But so is his sexy boooooodyyyyyy!!!
There I go, yet again. I'm sooooooooo pathetic. I wish I could just make a move on him. You know, throw caution to the wind and flirt with him, just like Miroku does. Except, I'd flirt with words, NOT with my hands. Gees, how did I come to get a pervert as a friend? Another point for my evil pathetic side.
Hmmm......I think I just heard my name from the table beside us. Must......spy......
April 24, 2004, at doctor's, 1:30, Saturday
I have to get a shot. A SHOT! I HAAATE SHOTS! Especially the kind of shot that I'm about to get – a blood test shot. You know, the kind where they actually DRAW BLOOD!!! They think I'm anemic. Why would they think I'm anemic? WHY?!?!? Just because I refuse to do almost any sports whatsoever does NOT mean I'm anemic. It means I have ASTHMA. NOT ANEMIA!
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I'm going to DIE. No one ever gave me time to prepare myself for Death Row! Mom said we were going to Kid Valley, but then we wound up HERE, with me filed in for a SHOT that will KILL ME! KILL ME! AND I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO REPENT FOR MY SINS!! I'M GOING TO DIE AND GO TO HELL BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID, STUPID SHOT!!!
Why would mom not tell me that I was going to get my blood drawn? It's like she thinks I'm afraid of shots. And I am so not afraid of shots. I'm just afraid of DYING which is what SHOTS CAUSE. At least it's what THESE kinds of shots cause. The doctors here......THEY ARE ALL VAMPIRES WHO'LL DRINK MY BLOOD! I'M ABOUT TO BE EMBALLED AND I'M ONLY SIXTEEN!
They're going to poke that needle thing in me and suck up all my blood and the pain will be unbearable and then I'll pass out and DIE. Then they'll secretly drink my blood at night, laughing EVILLY ALL THE WHILE. I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!!!!! THIS IS A CONSPIRACY AGAINST ME!!!
Well I'm not going to let them draw MY blood! Oh no, no, no, no, no! I WILL NOT die. As in WILL NOT, as in run away, never get a shot and DIE. It's a perfect plan. All I have to do is say that I'm going to the bathroom, then make a run for it when no one's loo-
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. There's the nurse calling my name, all innocent like, the MONSTER. Maybe if I stuff my head in this book and edge away slowly, they won't see me, and I WON'T die. As in WILL NOT, as in run away, never get a shot and DIE!
April 25, 2004, at Kid Valley (the real one), 2:10
I'm alive. And a bit calmer now. Mom says I was hysterical, retreating into my dark, temporarily insane place in the back of my mind. But I had a right to go crazy......that shot wins the friggin gold medal for being the worst friggin shot in the whole friggin world (sorry, when I'm upset, I swear......A LOT).
First the lady came by and took my sweaty hand firmly in hers, literally dragging me to the little metal torture room with all their sadistic equipment that's hidden in the back of the building, where the police won't see it. Then, she STRAPPED me in a chair, swabbing my arm with a creepy, slimy substance. By now I was breathing extremely hard into a bag, which was held to my face by Mom, God bless her soul, with the lady cooing nonsense noises to me as if I were some sort of baby. How dare she humiliate me before killing me? Couldn't she make my passing a LITTLE bit easier?
As she came over to me, slowly, adjusting the equipment on the shot haphazardly like some sort of amateur, her cooing noises slid calmingly into real words, as if she had been talking to me all along in some sort of freaky vampire language. "Hello, Kagome, my name is Akita, nice to meet you. This is my first time-" I screamed. –"but I assure you that I have had plenty of practice before." On what? Dummies? Little bunny rabbits? Kittens? HUMAN BEINGS????
She sprung on me, then, holding down my arm with her own body weight (and she was reeeeeeaaaaally heavy, like three hundred pounds, no joke) before viciously stabbing the needle into my flesh. She pulled it out again, saying through gritted teeth, "Oopsie, your vein is hiding from me!"
How could my vein be hiding from her? Doctors tell me all the time that I'm lucky because I have a VERY good vein that is EXTREMELY easy to puncture with that evil needle of doooooom that 'doesn't hurt one bit.' And I wasn't even struggling anymore, either. I knew for a fact that doing so would make the pain even worse. So HOW THE HELL COULD SHE NOT FIND MY VEIN?!?!?!?!
After THREE tries she finally 'found' the darn thing, which I could see from here. I have pale skin and a big vein. This lady obviously wasn't lying when she said it was her first time. Anyway, she takes the needle out from my skin after about twenty seconds of hell, then spills my blood all over my arm because she 'forgot to close the valve.' I think she's sadistic. I really, really do.
Afterwards, I couldn't stop laughing, and I don't think I'll ever know why the hell this experience was so dang funny to me. Mom says I was hysterical, but that is way too humiliating, considering that my little brother was with me the whole time, and got really totally freaked out by my creepy laughing.
I will never forget this. I'm gonna sue that Akita, one day, I really, really am.
I will update this every three days to a week depending on how long the chapters are or depending on my schedule.
All the chapter titles are named after Italian songs from the eighteenth and seventeenth centuries, just because I sing them. Nirvana rocks and enjoy the story!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
VITTORIA, MIO CORE! (Victorious my heart is)
April 23 2004, the cafeteria, 11:55
I am NOT a geek. I'm just......original. I don't tuck my shirt into my pants, I wear skirts, and, even if I've never talked to a boy before in my life (besides my grandpa, brother, friend, and of course, Hojo......he doesn't really count, though, for obvious reasons), everyone says that I'd be a great girlfriend. If anyone ever decided to ask me out. Which I just know they wouldn't, since I am a total and complete NERD. But I am NOT a geek. Just a nerd. Sure, I'm not quite the Queen of the Nerds (yet), but it's there, that ever present label that I can almost feel plastered on my forehead whenever one of the 'popular' people look my way.
And they aren't really all that popular. Did you know that, by dictionary definition, the word 'popular' means well liked? And no one likes the so-called 'popular' group. Except for themselves. In fact, I think I'll start calling that group the 'mushroom' group, just because they can be all cute and junk on the outside, but beneath that adorable little surface they're really just a poisonous little fungus.
Don't give me that look. I am NOT a geek.
And to prove it, I shall amend that I have a nice little group of friends with whom I am socializing quite nicely with, despite some previous problems......ahem Sango, for one, who, if not extremely......erm......mushroom-y, is quite popular, by dictionary definition, of course. And beautiful. Gads, if only I had those eyes......or those lips......or that nose, or that hair......Ok, I wish I looked more like her, in general. Then I would be thinner, much thinner, and therefore I would, if my observations are correct, attract more guys. Like, oh, I dunno.......Inu-Yasha?
If only HE were my friend......then I would be able to actually socialize with him, get on his good side, and then, once he gets to know my GREAT personality, BAM. We'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. And he wouldn't care about any of those other overly preppy girls he hangs out with, now, either. Nope. He'd only care about me. ;)
I'm also not very selfish, I swear.
Sidetracked. Again. I tend to do that a lot when I'm thinking about Inu-Yasha. His beautiful hair, gorgeous eyes which, in certain light, almost look golden, and, of course, his great, GREAT body always captivate nearly every one of my thoughts on every day of the week (except Sunday......I have NO idea why). Oh yeah, and his personality. That's important, too. But so is his sexy boooooodyyyyyy!!!
There I go, yet again. I'm sooooooooo pathetic. I wish I could just make a move on him. You know, throw caution to the wind and flirt with him, just like Miroku does. Except, I'd flirt with words, NOT with my hands. Gees, how did I come to get a pervert as a friend? Another point for my evil pathetic side.
Hmmm......I think I just heard my name from the table beside us. Must......spy......
April 24, 2004, at doctor's, 1:30, Saturday
I have to get a shot. A SHOT! I HAAATE SHOTS! Especially the kind of shot that I'm about to get – a blood test shot. You know, the kind where they actually DRAW BLOOD!!! They think I'm anemic. Why would they think I'm anemic? WHY?!?!? Just because I refuse to do almost any sports whatsoever does NOT mean I'm anemic. It means I have ASTHMA. NOT ANEMIA!
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I'm going to DIE. No one ever gave me time to prepare myself for Death Row! Mom said we were going to Kid Valley, but then we wound up HERE, with me filed in for a SHOT that will KILL ME! KILL ME! AND I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO REPENT FOR MY SINS!! I'M GOING TO DIE AND GO TO HELL BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID, STUPID SHOT!!!
Why would mom not tell me that I was going to get my blood drawn? It's like she thinks I'm afraid of shots. And I am so not afraid of shots. I'm just afraid of DYING which is what SHOTS CAUSE. At least it's what THESE kinds of shots cause. The doctors here......THEY ARE ALL VAMPIRES WHO'LL DRINK MY BLOOD! I'M ABOUT TO BE EMBALLED AND I'M ONLY SIXTEEN!
They're going to poke that needle thing in me and suck up all my blood and the pain will be unbearable and then I'll pass out and DIE. Then they'll secretly drink my blood at night, laughing EVILLY ALL THE WHILE. I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!!!!! THIS IS A CONSPIRACY AGAINST ME!!!
Well I'm not going to let them draw MY blood! Oh no, no, no, no, no! I WILL NOT die. As in WILL NOT, as in run away, never get a shot and DIE. It's a perfect plan. All I have to do is say that I'm going to the bathroom, then make a run for it when no one's loo-
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. There's the nurse calling my name, all innocent like, the MONSTER. Maybe if I stuff my head in this book and edge away slowly, they won't see me, and I WON'T die. As in WILL NOT, as in run away, never get a shot and DIE!
April 25, 2004, at Kid Valley (the real one), 2:10
I'm alive. And a bit calmer now. Mom says I was hysterical, retreating into my dark, temporarily insane place in the back of my mind. But I had a right to go crazy......that shot wins the friggin gold medal for being the worst friggin shot in the whole friggin world (sorry, when I'm upset, I swear......A LOT).
First the lady came by and took my sweaty hand firmly in hers, literally dragging me to the little metal torture room with all their sadistic equipment that's hidden in the back of the building, where the police won't see it. Then, she STRAPPED me in a chair, swabbing my arm with a creepy, slimy substance. By now I was breathing extremely hard into a bag, which was held to my face by Mom, God bless her soul, with the lady cooing nonsense noises to me as if I were some sort of baby. How dare she humiliate me before killing me? Couldn't she make my passing a LITTLE bit easier?
As she came over to me, slowly, adjusting the equipment on the shot haphazardly like some sort of amateur, her cooing noises slid calmingly into real words, as if she had been talking to me all along in some sort of freaky vampire language. "Hello, Kagome, my name is Akita, nice to meet you. This is my first time-" I screamed. –"but I assure you that I have had plenty of practice before." On what? Dummies? Little bunny rabbits? Kittens? HUMAN BEINGS????
She sprung on me, then, holding down my arm with her own body weight (and she was reeeeeeaaaaally heavy, like three hundred pounds, no joke) before viciously stabbing the needle into my flesh. She pulled it out again, saying through gritted teeth, "Oopsie, your vein is hiding from me!"
How could my vein be hiding from her? Doctors tell me all the time that I'm lucky because I have a VERY good vein that is EXTREMELY easy to puncture with that evil needle of doooooom that 'doesn't hurt one bit.' And I wasn't even struggling anymore, either. I knew for a fact that doing so would make the pain even worse. So HOW THE HELL COULD SHE NOT FIND MY VEIN?!?!?!?!
After THREE tries she finally 'found' the darn thing, which I could see from here. I have pale skin and a big vein. This lady obviously wasn't lying when she said it was her first time. Anyway, she takes the needle out from my skin after about twenty seconds of hell, then spills my blood all over my arm because she 'forgot to close the valve.' I think she's sadistic. I really, really do.
Afterwards, I couldn't stop laughing, and I don't think I'll ever know why the hell this experience was so dang funny to me. Mom says I was hysterical, but that is way too humiliating, considering that my little brother was with me the whole time, and got really totally freaked out by my creepy laughing.
I will never forget this. I'm gonna sue that Akita, one day, I really, really am.