Indie Girl

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It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party.
-- Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

An Indie Girl's life is a Statement with a capital S, but unlike the Granola Girl, the statement is not political -- it's artistic. Indie Girls consider themselves actresses in the movie of life. Your meal needs to be constructed like an independent film. If you're bringing her over for a date, you are playing a character in her movie. If you create a setting, props, and a soundtrack that are good enough to avoid the cutting-room floor, she's yours.

You can boil the Indie Girl down to two words: cultural literacy. Or how about these two: media consumption. As the Gourmet Girl loves food and all that goes with it, the Indie Girl loves media: books, movies, music, and art. The good news is you don't have to be rich, good-looking, or famous to win this girl's heart. The bad news is she will judge you based on your music choices, the books you read, and the films you watch.

She Might Be a Indie Girl if:

1. She drives: a classic car, a VW beetle, a Mini Cooper, or a Vespa scooter.-yea!
2. She can talk for more than ten minutes about: obscure pop culture.
3. She begins her sentences with: "It's like that Simpsons episode . . ."-yea!
4. She'd never: drive a mini-van.
5. She owns any of the following: TiVo, a mini-DV camera, an iPod, a pottery wheel, a serger, or a lava lamp.

Lava lamps! Yea!

We Don't Need No Education

My high school has a new administration this year and they are freaking insane. For example.
My friend missed school because she went to on a field trip to the hospital. She has diabetes and is really interested in medical stuff. Well she did not have a note because field trips are automatically excused. The administration calls her down to the office to give her Saturday school because she has ONE "unexcused" absence. She says "I was at the hospital" and before she has time to explain why the assistant principal says "Yeah, sure you were." Not only does this not give time for the student to explain herself, but she has a freaking insulin pump on her hip, what the hell are they challenging her for?
It gets worse. My other friend gives a note excusing an absence to the attendance office who are slow and get annoyed if you ever ask them anything (once they sat there telling me I couldn't go home even though I was obviously having a panic attack and hyperventilating). The note does not get put through by the time my friend gets called down for the freaking Saturday School, so she picks it up from the note submission basket on her way. "How convenient," Little Miss Bitch says, "and I expect you want me to believe that is legitimate? You just wrote it, didn't you?" "Call my mom," Innocent Cool Chick counters. Well then Student Body Officer Big Shot Hottie comes in and openly admits to sluffing. So-LMB lets him off. Now SBOBSH is a nice guy and I am not blaming him, but what the hell, right? So ICC says "Excuse me? He does not have a note and you will let him off but not me? Doesn't that go against your own rules? The ones you set and enforce, albeit ineffeiciently? Why-" So then LMB interrupts with "I suggest you shut up. If you bring this up again, you will be suspended."
And they are shortening our lunch period by 15 minutes next year.
Please tell me how i should deal with these bastards.
Excuse my obscenity.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

How to make a Katherina

Ingredients: 5 parts competetiveness 5 parts crazyiness 5 parts ego

Method: Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Add lovability to taste! Do not overindulge!

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Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com