A Feen

Mood: feen-ish
Music: Jewel - Absesnce of Fear
Days 'till I skip the Country: 11

The other day my friend Charlotte informed me that she had to "pee like a feen!!" No, not like a feind. Like a feen. You know, a feen? Jeez.

Rugby season is now upon us, and so aside from having bruised a couple of internal organs not too much is new on the Anneliese front. Except in the past two days I've said 'fuck' more times than I can count on both hands. Which is odd. And strangely liberating. FuckFuckFuckityFuckFuckFuck!

Anyways... this week we had a motivational speaker that I actually went to. His name was Stu. Stu is also a food. ...Stu was very proud of the fact that his name also means a food. Stu was funny. I enjoyed Stu and I found that I was motivated... enough to make this list anyhow.

Five things for me to do this weekend:
1. Discontinue regular use of the word fuck. Will cut back to no more than one F-bomb per day
2. Ask at least ONE person to sponsor me for 30 Hour Famine
3. Drag my heathen ass to church
4. Decide weather to attend the Road Trip or IMPROV FINALS!!! I'm just too popular, man.
5. Finish my gawdforsaken poetry portfolio

On that note. Here is a sonnet-type thing I wrote today. (And by 'today' I mean technically I wrote it yesterday.)

Princess, Princess, put all your toys away
A fresh snow has fallen lastnight for you
We'll build you a castle of white and blue
And laugh and shiver and do what you say
Put on your finest winter coat and gown
And stand before us like a shining jewel
We'll applaud with numb hands and worship you
Smile and sing as the castle falls down
And under the pressure your lungs will burn
And in this cold casket no tears will fall
And you die alone in a veil of white
As the snowflakes fall upon your kingdom
Your memory evaporates like mist
Your bones as alive as our love for you


...Enchanting, isn't it?

Ta Da!

(ps. if you were reading carefully you'll have noticed that I said IMPROV FINALS. Yes. That's right... there is a God!!)

(pss. the GITs are first in the Western Confrence. ...Apparently God goes to GCVI and likes his improv.)