Explosions off in the Distance

And here we are. Another New Year to welcome in. Ahead of us are three hundred and sixty-five days. What will we do with these days? We do not know. They hold untold promise, unknown wonder. They are there, waiting for us to make the most of them. Many of them we won't. But there are those we will make spectacular. Whether it is one of those 365 days or all of them, it's our duty to make the most of all five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes.

Right now my liver happens to be pretty upset with me. Come to think of it, I'm pretty upset with me. But Sean helped me be less upset with me. He's a good man, that Sean.

So basically I welcomed this New Year with cheers and tears. Tears from my fears. Fears I'd ultimately like to come over, but it's not looking that likely. Depressing, I know. But yet realistic. You can't just get over a major personality flaw (in my case, manic-depression) by saying you will. Major life overhauls, usually as a result of someone else showing you some truth of life. It's true. You by yourself cannot learn everything. You'll have such a biased outlook on life. You need the influence of others to fully comprehend all the meanings of life. The most valueable lessons are often learned unexpectedly from others. That's why friends are so splendiferous.

Which is why I was more than a little sad tonight. It wasn't all due to alcohol consumption, though that's bad bad bad. Part of it pertained to the fact that I feel like I've outlived my usefullness to most of my friends, which can make life look even more meaningless than it already is.

Oh well. Maybe great things will come in this new year. And maybe they won't. That's the gamble. You never really know.

Dance Fever

Okay, if this weather doesn't end, I will commit suicide. Yes. I will. It's Seattle weather- dreary, cold, foggy- suicide central. I hate it a whole lot.

The arrival of the New Year amongst this depression is making me insufferebly emo. That, combined with the fact that I haven't left my house in a week (besides chicago, where I was with my mother anyway) has given me far too much time to think about what I want and need in this coming year. Sure, we can make the typical resolutions to lose weight and find a boyfriend, etc, etc, etc. But those are things everyone does. They don't really change our life dramatically per se. Maybe if you were insanely obese or if you found your soul mate- but let's face it a) I'm not that overwieght and b) no one finds their soul mate in high school.

The real way to reinvent your life in the New Year is to find new perspective on life. The way to do that is to start thinking outside your traditional little box. It's not as easy as it seems. You have to be unconventional, do things you wouldn't normally do. That doesn't necessarily mean being non-conformist, but rather perhaps just doing something on an individual basis. And no, I do not mean shoving an ice cream cone in a kid's face and yelling, "you remember me FOREVER!" It's just about doing things, for yourself and for others, that you haven't done before. Try everything once. Maybe be spontaneous.

I guess the one thing to do this year is to make the most of it. To suck the marrow out of life. To be a transparent eyeball and see everything the world has to offer while being unaffected by the materialism and vice in the world. To honestly live everyday as if it were the last. Because who knows- in 2006, your number just might be called.

Add a Little Love (Pillsbury)

Ahhh, it's the first night of Hanukkah! Always exciting. Currently I'm playing with the "data" feature on my phone. I've sent something like 135 texts, and recieved 146... since December 21st. Thank god for Verizon IN texting. Most of those have been to sydnie anyway. We like to text about how completely dreadful it is to be with family on holidays. At least her family allows her to consume alcohol with them. My mother give me half a glass of dry gross wine and thinks she's doing me a favour. Thanks mom. No, really, thanks. Because that's just what I want to be- sober for the holidays.

The only really worthwhile gifts I got were my digital camera and my Magic Bullet (which, by the way, makes the fluffiest damn pancakes you've ever had). I got some clothing, too, but most of the rest of the bulk of giftage was Luggage, which just isn't any fun.

Currently I'm watching American Dad, which is such a blatant Family Guy knockoff. Still funny, but sort of like the reject jokes from Family Guy.

Anyhoo, the best gifts definately wound up being from my friends, who of course know me so much better than my parents. Cait and Shannon got me (among other things) Worst Case Senario: College Survival. Which of course serves awesome purpose. Then Scott gave me the monkey that Sean nearly lost an eye over. And Trish got me a most delicious looking Vegetarian Cookbook. Sooo yeah.

Um I guess beyond that, there isn't a lot to say. I did spend a lot of fun time playing video games with Elizabeth and Schultz and Sydnie and Rory and Moran. Syd beat Rory at Soul Caliber, so if anyone out ther actually cares, be sure to rip on him for the rest of his life.

Alright. That's all.

We Shed What Was Left of Our Summer Skin

After many, many years of childhood, I am now legally considered an adult.

Now, please keep in mind that this has absolutely no bearing on my maturity level. I will forever have the teenage boy's sense of humour- Chuck Norris jokes included. But there's something to be said about finally being recognized as an adult. Sometimes (though by all means not always) I feel that I think and respond to things as an adult, and it's nice to know that maybe it is finally acknowledged in the real world that I could possibly have something to say. Granted, most of the world still thinks of me as some useless high school kid, but there's always the idea that this is the begining of the end. The four major parts of life are chilhood, teenager, adulthood, and old age. Adulthood by far lasts the longest, and is the most influential part of you. And old age won't hit me until what? Sixty-five? Well, hopefully I'll be dead by then anyway...

So now I'm here, pondering the meaning of adulthood. Now, of course, there's no one moment in your life when you grow from being a teenager to an adult. But somehow eighteen seems to be a good year to mark it. Seventeen is a year of growing int oan adult. At 16 your definately still a kid, really. But once you turn seventeen, the idea that 18 is coming is in the back of your mind, and you start to grow up I think. So by the time you hit eighteen, you've matured a lot over the year. For the most part, I think this is true with almost everyone I meet. Most of my friends are obviously 17 or 18, and they all have matured vastly over the last year.

All in all, growing up is a good thing, so long as you don't completely grow up. Because sometimes it's fun to be an ASS.

Merry Hanukkah.

Zanzibar

Sometimes I wonder if my true internal struggles come mostly from outside sources or from my own secret psychoticness. However, I have picked up some wisdom and insights which are useful for managing your internal psychological problems. I am here to share them with you, though undoubtedly no one is reading this.

-Everyone has at least some elements of a psychological disease. Maybe it's paranoid-schizophrenia, maybe manic-dpression, obsessive-compulsive, megalomania, or chronic anxiety. It doesn't really matter that much what it is, what's important is to recognize that yes, you probably have elements of those who might be considered "certifiable", and there is no escaping that, because there really is no such thing as the norm.

-The only people who are really crazy are the ones who think they are sane. Like I said before, everyone is crazy, but as long as you know you are a psychopath, you cannot really be considered certifiable. Once you think you're sane, you're a lost cause. Have faith in craziness, it's the one element of your personality you will always carry with you.

-While it is important to extend the benefit of the doubt to people, first impressions are not meant to be dismissed. (Shannon taught me all this) Humans actually do have a good capacity for making preliminary judgements on people, so your first impression of someone might not be so very wrong. The important thing is to hold this impression in reserve, and get to know the person enough to find aspects of their character that justify such a belief. If you do, you might just find that your first impression was not so far from the truth.

-People are all the same. People always have been this way. Nothing has changed- past, present, or future, people are always the same. (amen d.vis)

-You cannot please everyone. So simple, so true, so hard to remember.

-There are people who go to school because you are supposed to go to school, and there are people who go to school because they want to learn. If you're open to it, school (the educational aspect of it, anyway) can actually be kind of fun. (I'm a nerd.)

-If you talk about your boyfriend/girlfriend, and you say "I hate him/her" more than ten times in a relationship, then it's probably not a good one. You cannot be defined by your relationship status. Granted, some people do, but you shouldn't. If you are unhappy about a relationship, and you a) talk about it and it doesn't change after a significant period of time or b) you don't have the communication pathways to talk about your issues, than more likely than not your relationship is, as Dane Cook might say, a relation-shit. Don't become trapped in it.

-Be open-minded. You cannot and will not understand everything in the world. But you cannot understand anything if you are not open to it. Understanding is an important part of functioning. The more familiar you are with yourself, with the people around you, and the general socialogy of the human race, the more content you can be.

-Keep in mind, though, that understanding probably does not lead to being really happy. The only people who are really happy with their lives are those who are naive. Naivety leaves us vunerable, but keeps us ignorant and thus happy. The biggest choice one really has to make is whether it is better to understand things and be cynical and to feel lacking at times, or whether to remain gullible and feel completely content.

-No one has confidence all the time- or if you do, tell me what the hell you do for that. Some people are confident in certain situations, or at certain times in their life, and of course some people are naturally more confident than others. One piece of advice I heard over the years is, "confidence is ignorance- if you're feeling cocky, then it means there's something you don't know." I like this advice, it's practical, true, and has a sense of humour to it.

The truths about individual psychology and collective sociology are ever unfolding, more each day. However, I cannot really see any major fault with this logic above. If you dissent, well, I don't really care because let's be honest- I'm a senior in high school, writing a bloge at 1:30 am because there's nothing else better to do, and if you are becoming really angry with it, you should probably look closely at yourself and at fact number one.

So, um, thanks for listening folks. And if you really care, do comment, because I sort of miss recieving comments.

The Great Divide

Note: this is what happens at 1:30 in the morning when you cannot sleep.

No doubt there are many tales in the annals of Magnificat High School. Whether tales of woe (which usually are followed with the slable "jo") or joy, there is none quite so interesting and ironic as the civil war known as history.

I'm not talking about the actual Civil War. Please- that was anything but Civil. Nay, this war of which I speak is not fought out with guns and ammo (of course not. We're a bunch of magnifigirls. If we fought at all it would be with rumours, bitchy comments, and hair-pulling) (alright, granted, that sounds a bit like the government today, but let's not confuse things) and indeed is not a violent war at all. However, it is something which brings to loggerheads two diametrically opposed opionions, these being on the better of the United States History teachers.

(Of course, Komo is not a part of this. Komo is, and always will be, evil. But that's am atter of the world history stuednts, and no doubt there is some sophomore currently in that strife who can tell you that tale)

There are those who wouldn't ocnsider it a war at all. Indeed, it is mostly between the two AP classes that this faction exsists at all. I, as a member of APUSH section one, am of course for the side of Visgak. D. Vis. The name that sounds like a disease, according to Nina. (okay, that's a bit out of context- but you had to be there) Section Two has Giliotti (can I spell that? negative. Can and of section two spell visgak? doubt it) as their leader.

Though this debate does not by any means take up all our free time, (my god, we have boys for that) it is reasonable to judge that at some point during the day, there are those who will get into an argument (or perhaps disagreement) about the superiourity of their teacher. Perhaps you thought I exageratted when I called this a war- but no, indeed, there is fierce loalty to each side. I have debated with my fair share of section two students. While most of them are not as vehement in their beliefs (or we can just be honest and admit that I am a much more overbearing person than either Elaine or KatieSpi) there is no doubt still loyalty to their section.

(Mind you, there are also people in either class that frankly don't give a damn either way. Realy this was is like any other- 1/3 for one side, 1/3 for another, 1/3 with completely apathy no matter what the outcome. Because we have to be honest with ourselves again- some poeple just don't like History, and thus do not care)

I can only give my perspective as a Visgak student. We love coming to class. It's very sad that most of the people I talk to agree that it and Mrs. Neville's class are about the only ones worth attending anymore. (We are seniors, and we all have senioritis, and we all firmly believe that as seniors we should a) do no work and b) not have to attend class) We come everyday, usually to pick up where some exciting cliffhanger left off. We are drawn into history, and it's always rather interesting as class usually begins "well now it's [insert year here]", which puts us right into that year. Not to mention, there is the wit and wisdom of D. vis. Basically, we come for the history but stay for the entertainment. Several students (yes, I am one of them) record the insights to life we receive daily in our history notes. I know mine are littered with knowledge such as, "Life isn't a Burger King- You Can't Always Have it Your Way", and, "There are a lot of Mexicans in Mexico." Also adding to the interest of the class are its pupils, such as Ros, "What's the difference between Frederick Douglass and Stephen Douglas?" (if you knew anything about history, you'd know that that is a rather significant mistake to make) or Nina's usual troublemaking, "you only look cute when people cannot see you"

These elements, combined with mrs. visgak's (does anyone actually call her mrs.? I think most use that sort of slurred ms., though the title general seems more apt) love for Andrew Jackson and Polk (and Caitlin's fatal mistake of asking what he ever did) make our class by far the best.

Gillioti's class will maintain that "giggles' is also amusing. They state that she is interesting as well. But they don't know what they're missing. They just don't understand what real history is like. They just don't appreciate Andrew Jackson like we do.

I have spent the last three days reading five chapters worth of History. I have the midterm for it on Monday. I am coming down with the flu, only my body doesn't want to accept that fact because it got a flu shot, and it cannot decide what to do. I have gotten about 14 hours of sleep all week, most of that during Chem class. I made Miguel teach me to do redox reactions. I am losing my mind. It's 1:30 (well, it was when I started- it's 1:58 now) in the morning, and I got inspired to write this. Tomorrow I will probably ask myself, "what in the hell were you thinking?" But until then, goodnight and goodluck.

Numa, Numa

Ahh. I feel like I've been having lots of deep conversations over the last few days. Life, love, communism, and alcohol. Interesting I know.

I've felt rather subdued over the last few days. And I'm still in Bah-Humbagism mood. Stephen Colbert did a nice little report on it. Well on the anti-christmas movement. Which is lame a lot. Who cares. Honestly. Who cares?

Let's see. We have a day off tomorrow which is a nice plus, even though it comes at the cost of someone's life. People die a lot around the holidays. That sort of sucks.

Fuck. so much to say. no way to say it.

Man of Science, Man of Faith

Today has been a very sombering day. We learned in homeroom that a senior from ed's, Alex McCann, died in his sleep last night. It put a very depressing mood on the whole day, and consequently it was one of those "sit back and ponder" type of days. Several people are in shock, a few who are dear friends of mine. It's one of those lousy things that you can't really do anything about. You can say, "I'm sorry," but that doesn't even begin to cover it.

Sudden death like this is really pretty scary. It reminds us that people can just disappear on us without warning. Which is depressing really. And it's not surprising those close to him are in shock, as no one really saw it coming.

The interesting thing about this all is that a lot of people just met him yesterday at the girl-guy dialogue at St. Ed's. Sort of an amazing coincidence that about 25 people who never knew him before yesterday met him. Took pictures. And before these pictures are even developed, he's gone. Makes you wonder. Coincedence or fate. Such a fine line between the two.

Then I hung out tonight with Katey and Brita. That was fun. But also sort of one of those "sit around and discuss" type things. Which are always very productive and interesting, especially as I never see them, save for my Qdoba Friday's.

Another intersting anecdote of the day is the accident I was delayed by. Left school at 3:25 and got home at 4:05. Please mind you, my trip usually takes seven minutes. But I enjoyed the tune of sandstorm (which I aptly re-named "snowstorm" in my head. I know, I'm a tool) during the wait, and made some texts, and whatnot.

OKay I"m having pain spazms so I'm going to go now.

::Techno Dance Beat::

Right now I'm listening to Syd's techno mix, and it's about the only thing keeping me from shooting myself in the face. Sandstorm is on, which always brings a bit of cheer to the lowly.

Mother coerced me into shopping today. At first I was like, "sure I'll go," until I realised that Lost was on soon (that's because our family is gay and eats at like eight o'clock, so I have no concept of time) and I really would rather watch Lost than go shopping. Mother was like, "just tape it, we'll go shopping," in that you-had-better-come-with-me guilt voice. So fine. I went with her. I tried to be civil, I really did, but I don't really like shopping anyway, let alone when I'm missing my favourite show. Not to mention, there was nothing worthwhile to get. The shoe selection? Disaster. I was pissed.

I've come to the conclusion that I've sort of lost the holiday spirit. I attempted to listen to Christmas music, and I couldn't really do it. Decorations make me angry (particularly the Simons' house, which is basically Holiday Haven, and makes me want to slit my wrists on behalf of their perfect, stereotypical suburban lawn). I don't feel like getting gifts- or recieving them, for that matter. Of course, I want a digital camera and Lost: Season 1 on DVD, but that's what birthdays are for. And my birthday is coming up.

I used to love christmas music. I would listen to my Disney Christmas tape (yes, this was before the era of CDs) 24/7 during the holidays, and once in a while during summer, as well. But now I can't even listen to music without wanting to gag.

I'm not really sure what it is about the holidays that make me so... Scrooge-y. Perhaps it's the couples- there are always more couples around the holidays. This doesn't actually make me angry so much as in I want to be a part of a couple, but it is a sort of downside to be reminded constantly that you are incapeable of being paired off.

FUCK AND NOW SYD'S CD DIED ON ME.

Now I'm just angry.

Anyway, yes. Perhaps it's the couples. Perhaps it is the fact that I rather dislike shopping, especially with people. I mean, give me a few bucks, and I'll buy a few things for myself. And I really mean a few, I'm not one of those people who goes out and spends money like it's my job. (::cough:: syd::cough::) Perhaps it's the fact that no one really knows what the season is about anymore- actually, no, that's not it, I don't give a rat's ass about the birht of Jesus crap. Perhaps it's the family concept. I hate family-oriented things, and holidays are number one family-oriented hell, in my mind. I'm not really sure what it is, but my enjoyment of the holidays has really taken a downward spiral in the last few years. It's depressing, really. I used to love holidays. I still like my birthday, but that has the unfortunate connotation of holiday. Maybe when I go to college, I'll lie and tell all my friends my birthday is.... October 11th? Yeah, I like that day. No one will know the difference, right?

I wish I could feel spirity. I'm not even emo, I just don't feel like one should when Christmas rolls around. I know a trip to Crocker Park would cheer me a bit, though not the shopping aspect. More like the walking around in the glory and splendor of the lights. That would help.

You know, it will be really nice to get away to Spain for a while. Get away from school, family, and even friends. I feel like I've been in this same environment for far too long. It no longer stimulates me properly. It is all just the same stuff, day after day.

Stupid funks. I wish I weren't emo so often. Except I'm not even emo right now, I'm... apathetic. Kind of angry at the world really. I suppose that's a bit more of a punk-rawk attitude, eh? Now I'm jsut being mean to innocent people who don't deserve meanness. I am a horrible person.

Fuck.

Aimless

Let's all ask the really relavent question here: Why the hell am I awake? It's a quarter to three in the morning (mind you my alarm is set to go off in two hours, though I might change that, as I managed to finidh my history already.

I haven't slept right in days and days. Maybe if I didn't sleep during the day, I'd be okay. But I only sleep for like two hours, so why on earth am I awake anyway? Bahh. I tried soothing myself down with Death Cab, but at this hour, it seems as though I simply cannot be calm. Right about now I'd like to go out running or something. Hacer some ejercicio or something. I don't have any more homeowork to do, well, nothing worth doing anyway. I guess I could read Anna, but it's in my car, and if I turn off the alarm, it makes that annoying beep and the parents arise, and they start asking questions. And stats, well, fuck that.

In repaso, Thanksgiving was decent. Wednesday was a snowy day of joy, Thursday was long and tedious, but you knwo about that. Friday was... tiring. But I saw Pride and Prejudice, which was long, but good enough. Saturday was cool because Shani got back and we watched SNL as usual... speaking of which, Dane Cook will be on Saturday and I'm super stoked. Sunday was the surprise party I was nominated to hold. And today I went to Beachwood with Elizabeth.

Hmm so yeah. I pretty much did nothing this break.
Death Cab is so... nice.


Um, let's see. I think I'll paint my nails.

Dear Diary- Mood: Apathetic

Okay Thanksgiving? Yeah, officially the most boring holiday on record. Spending an hour in the middle of the day eating stuffing and vegetables with your mom and dad, who are yelling at you about college and an itinerary from Spain just doesn't define "holiday spirit" for me. Nor does watching pretty much the entire Avatar marathon on Nickelodeon while playing The Sims. Well, okay let's be honest, my holidays frequently consist of watching cartoons and playing Sims, yet, they shouldn't.

So that was about the height of my holiday. I went to sleep at nine fucking p.m. because no one was really online and I was just bored, so I thought "hell, why not sleep"? Of course then I freaking woke up at 11:45, but I thought it was 1:45, so I tried to force myself back to sleeping. Obviously that didn't work, and then I realized it was now actually 12:12, so I came online, where Caitlin is and we're working out plans for tomorrow. Yeah. I really know how to party on Thanksgiving.

Christmas/ el cumpleanos had better not suck this much.

Erm, let's see. I am still really excited about the snow, even though it's stupid and keeps melting. I'm also excited because I caught padre looking at digital cameras in the Best Buy adverts today. And tomorrow I shall be celebrating black friday. Not at five in the a.m. like some people (Elizabeth), but still. I'm dragging poor Caitlin and her mother, who usually refuse to partake in such events as Black Friday. Silly non-conformist them.

In other news my parents (not both of them actually, just my dad) are being GAY about Sunday in general, and it is a permanent irritance.

I s'pose that's all.

erm.

Winter Wonderland

Well, you all can just imagine my happy surprise when I woke up to the blustery snow. That's right, we're having a full-on blizzard. It's ever so smarvelous. It's blowing about, and because if it, mother will probably never let me out of this bloody house to go to the various locations I would rather spend my Thanksgiving at.

In other news, I finally managed to apply to college. All that's left is managing to get in. Yeah. Um, sure.

Also in other news, Thanksgiving, while being a waste of a day, is a great excuse to lounge around and watch television. Which is obviously what I"m doing now- Fairly Oddparents is on, which fills me with unabounding joy. I may curl up and read a little history. Because I look forward to that type of thing.

Ahhhh snow!!!

Would You Please Ignore

haha actual essay (that I didn't actually wind up turning in because I have trouble differentiating "word" from "character")


Usually my Sunday afternoons are filled with rest and relaxation, usually involving me being lazy around the house. However, this Sunday was different, as it is the Sunday before November 27th, the busiest day of the year for me. My day was much more fun filled (and interesting) than usual.
I had woken up that morning late, as always on a Sunday, and watched some Nickelodeon cartoons, completed the sudoku square in Saturday’s paper, and read the Sunday comics. By then it was about noon, and it was time for me to get out of my chair and accomplish some things. I first decided to make some raspberry brownies. I followed the directions on the back of my Nestle© Tollhouse Marble Swirl Chocolate Chip package, and the results were only a bit dismal, thanks to me mistaking the word “butter” for “jam”. However, the brownies were still quite delicious, and continue to sit in my kitchen, where my dieting mother stares longingly at their sweet, scrumptious beauty.
After my brownies were done, I set off in order to buy the many gifts I would need the following Sunday, November 27th. Traditionally, November 27th has been a day of great celebration. My mother celebrates her birthday on this day, along with my best friend Elizabeth, and a few other acquaintances, such as my friends Katie and Adrienne. Furthermore, other dear friends of mine, John and Kristen, celebrate their birthdays on the 28th. Of course, being that these days were still a week away, I had not yet purchased presents for these friends, or my friends with birthdays on the 12th or the 18th, either. I had much to do! So I set off to one of the most bustling places in my average suburban town- Crocker Park, a large outdoor shopping mall.
In Crocker Park, I exercised all manners of my spendthrift nature. I found pants for seven dollars, books for five, and even a silk shirt for twelve. Perhaps this seems like useless suburban brat banter, but when one has limited funds such as I do, such sales are most exciting.
I spent the rest of the afternoon dashing about the Greater Cleveland Suburban Area. I purchased my mother and my friends some excellent gifts, if I do say so myself. I have to admit, I love to shop for others. It feels so good when you give a friend the perfect gift, the one they did not ask for but which you know they will love and which will mean a lot to them. I like to see the looks on their faces when they receive something they have wanted forever, or the laughter in their eyes when I get them a gag gift.
I must admit that after four hours of shopping (and all for others, too, which is impressive) I was quite fatigued. I came home around 4:30 PM to review my gifts and begin wrapping them. Now, two days later, I sit here hoping that I got everyone what they wanted and what they needed. I know it does not really matter what I bought them, because it is the thought that counts. But it still means a lot to me to know that I can match the perfect gift to my friends’ personalities.


corny at the end, but kind of funny if you know me.

POP

I'm currently watching Chicago. It's still a great musical. Unlike the one at Mags.

Cinderella just seems like a disastor. I don't know why they picked it. Don't get me wrong, everyone has put a lot of work into it, and the ensamble is quite good and the sets look pretty. But beyond that? It's just not a good play. The whole plot is some vicious lie, about happy endings and how wishing will get you what you want. Well, that's a LIE. Life doesn't work like that, and Mags is stupid for trying to tell us otherwise. Plus the orchestra is HORRID. I don't know what happened with that. And just because the play is sort of... blaa... you can tell the actors aren't super into it. I wish we had done a nice, large, singing, dancing musical.

I left at intermission (or half-time if you're joanne) because I was simply too emo to handle it. I know, kind of a pathetic reason, but if I had to wander aimlessly and with no purpose for one more second, I would have quite possibly slit my wrists. Syd is home, sick as well, (even though she's physically sick, and I'm mentally unbalanced) and we are watching Chicago together, but in different houses. That is the magic of the internet.

Last night we saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which is for sure the most amazing of all Harry Potter movies. It's so spectacular, with great acting, and funny parts, and hott boys (with accents, no less), and dramatic scenes. It acutally looks how I picture the book and everything. So perfect, I recommend it.

Unfortunately, I also sufferend a nice allergy attack this morning.

Oh, I have a dreadful headache. Kill me.

Haleluia Lock and Load

Estoy muy triste porque tengo que ir a una cena de desportes por el ontoño esta noche. Y por que voy, perdire' Lost. Triste Triste Triste.

Um yeah.

I odn't acutally feel like blogging, I jsut felt liek a slacker.

Enjoy the Flames

Okay. School today? Not bad at all. Got some stats done. Got En Marcha done. Read some Anna. Was calmer about college apps since I did a shitload of work on them. But then fucking after school. I had to go get shots.

I hate shots. The medical, inoculation kind, not the nice, happy, alcohol kind. Not the jello kind. Not the soccer kind. Like needles. Sharp, pointy needles that hurt. It's not even the hurt. It's feeling them.. inside your skin.... poking around ::shudder::. I hate shots. Like uncontrolably, passionately hate shots. I would rather walk down a street in Bhagdad with my uniform on than get a shot. I would rather babysit children all day than get a shot. I would go to church and litsten to the Johnathan Edwards than get a shot. Well, maybe not that last one. Actually, yes, probably. I hate shots. So much. So I had to get not one, but TWO today. A Tetnus and a Flu shot. Seventeen year olds are not even supposed to get flu shots!!! I think I'd rather get the avion flu virus than get the stupid shot. Being sick is so much less.... ::shudder:: I can't even explain it. It's not the pain I hate, though I'm not a fan of it. It's more like.. the knowledge of this slimy, cold, foreign, metal object violating you, puncturing you, ruining the carefully maintained homeostasis of your body that I hate. And shut up, I know innoculation helps maintain homeostasis. But it's just not natural. It's so weird... so... inexplicably gross. I get all squirmy thinking about it.

Then of course, after getting my shots, I started crying, and the poor nurse woman was like... "um, are you okay?" because how many fucking seventeen-year-olds can't control themselves enough to stop crying when they get shots? Seriously Stef, GROW UP. So I managed to gain enough composure to flee from the horrible, horrible doctor's office, and then started crying non-stop in my car, despite the blissful sounds of Lost Prophets, which just weren't enough to cheer me. When I came home, I consumed about half a gallon (hyperbole) of Higbee's Chocolate Malted with choco chips atop. And just now am I fully gaining self-control. But I still can... feel... ick.. the shots in my arms, and it's making me very, very squeemish. And now my mom's in the room and I just want her TO FUCKING DIE. I want both my parents to because they don't know when to FUCKIGN LEAVE ME ALONE.

And just to make today worse, I found out I got Moran a 33/40 on his ballad. I'm sorry Brian. I suck.

So. Now. If I didn't hate self-inflicted wounds so much, I'd probably slit my wrists. But I have to be honest. I would rather slit my wrists than get another shot.

aaaand black my eyes

yeah. Tonight i decided I officially dislike hanging out with people with whom I attended grade school. It's simply a drag to see them, because I hate most of them. I just don't understand how none of them can manage to make new friends. They all hang out with the same damn people- the guys and the girls alike. It really bothers me. Honestly, would it kill you to meet other people. Not to mention it would sort of be appreciated if people realised that somewhere in between eigth grade and senior year, people change. I'm not necessarily the same type of person I was in grade school. The sad thing is, they are.

Tonight was basically retarded and I don't want to talk about just how boring my night was.

Remind me not to go places where I'm going to run into grade school people. Because it's just not going to result in a good night for me.


Um so basically. Goodbye.

Cut my Wrists

I want to kill myself.

I BLOODY HATE CHEM SO MUCH THAT I CAN’T EVEN TYPE RIGHT BECAUSE IT MAKES ME SO ANGREEMO!

Chem right now is ranking up there along with Wal-Mart and needles on my list of disgusting things. I completely failed my bloody test because the world is evil.

Okay. Maybe tonight will make me less emo.

Calm down, emo clown. Happy things right now:

1) I get to go home when I’m done
2) It’s only 2:22
3) I’m hanging out with Syd and Elizabeth
4) Mrs. Visgak is teaching this class
5) Chels and I are fighting over the attractiveness of puggles

Okay. I am calm.
NO, I’m not. Still emo. Still want to slit my wrists with a Bunsen burner. And I thought I knew those things. I’m soooo disillusioned right now.

Smell My Feet

Happy Halloween! Tonight was so fun. We trick-or-treated... and Elizabeth is a fricking nazi. She made Syd and I sprint (while all she had to do was a healthy skip) house-to-house. We got pretty good candy, doing rounds mostly in my neighbourhood.

So two stupid things I did today:

1) I smacked my head on this pane of glass in the RC. Ask Jill about it- she heard it loud and clear. I thought the glass was closer to the curtain, dammit. But it was like six inches away. Now I have a bruise. And a headache. But on reflection, the headache isn't from the glass, I don't think.

2) I was in a hurry after the stupid spanish trip meeting, and I locked my keys in the trunk, which I have been expecting from me all year. And tonight, of all nights, Halloween, it happened. I was sober, by the way. Because there are those with doubts.

I was not necessarily like that the rest of the evening. But we aren't really going to talk about that. I'm fine now, though I have a headache and I'm tired. And I had lots of homework, cuz Biss lost my Stats, and I didn't redo it. And frankly, I don't want to. But I will. Tomorrow.

Tonight after we got back, Elizabeth, Masterson, and I tried to watch Saw, and then Syd came. But we didn't watch much. I have add when inebriated. But shhhh. Let's not talk about it.

Not like anyone reads this anyhoo.

KK well I def. need sleep before school tomorrow. I'm a bad choice maker.

Regardless...

Hm, WOW. That blog posty last night was a little wierd. Not entirely sure why I made the decision to do it. But you know, whatever works.

And I'm really mad about this time change. I woke up at 5:15 with a headache (wonder why) and a need to pee, so I did, then I took some ibuprofen and ate a pear (sooo delicious, pears) and I was kind of like "Well, it's about 6 am, I might as well just remain awake." But then I turn on the TV and figure out it's actually 5 am. STUPID. So I forced myself to sleep, which was probably a good decision, come to think of it. Now it's 9:21 (but feels like 10:21). Okay for real. Daylight Savings Time was one of the worst ideas EVER.

Did I mention that last night we managed to somehow win districts? Um, yeah. I'm sort of pissed. We have never won. It went into overtime like always, and we WON. Thanks to Moni. While I'll admit it was really exciting to finally win, seriously... of all the luck. Two more practices, one more game. Fuckin'.... yeah.

Also, right now we are in the peak of fall (gotta love Ohio) and it's sooooooo pretty outside. This morning I woke up (the second time) to a beautiful myriad of colours. My backyard really is quite lovely. The trees are reflecting in the lake all nice, and everything is red, orange, and goldenrod, giving my backyard that appearance of being set on fire. I'm going to take pictures! Yay!

Alright. I think I have now covered everything. I'm going to go paint my nails. Toodles.

Stable Ground

Fucking A I spelled that title right.

Typing is not working out so well for me right now. It's ll better if I don't lok at the computer, it's goo brign.t

I'm a little not sober trihgtn ow.

It's really not that ad though, for real.

See, like, I'm gotally going to remember all this tomorrow. And my sweet keyboarding skills are helping out wit h this. NOt a ot, obciosul.y. But som.

I had fun at Mike's tonight! And yesterday, I carved pumpkins. With scotty. It waqs soooooooo fun. His looked bad, but mike was laright. I have a pic of it on y phone. I recomend asking me about it

Court's in Recess

Today was another usual, irritating day. We won our stupid game against Avon Lake tonight, and now we bloody have to play this weekend. Grrrrrrreat. And school is just a constant reminder that I have college apps soon.

Things that brighten my day:
*My sweet sparkly puffball spider right from the Halloween Store
*That I'm not stupid enough to know what a "credit card" style wedgie is
*That Katie Blake and I ponder ironies such as "I feel Numb" during soccer games
*Hating Eileen so obviously but not blatantly enough for her to do anything about it
*I Love the 80's 3D (which is not actually in 3D)
*Portabella and Mozerella Panini sandwiches
*Stacy/Travis, Beckley Redneck, and other such stories
*Actually passing most of my classes


That's about it. It's not a horrible list for one day. I suppose.

To those of you out there with problems: sorry I can't manage to offer helpful, sage advice. I'm probably going to bed now.

Damn, I didn't sell those stupid tickets for night in blue. Effin' stats grade.

Tomorrow's Newspaper... Today

I absolutely still love Early Edition. I will not balk at admitting it. I do sorely miss the days of Fox Family (damn abc... no that's a lie, ABC is good, they gave us Lost) Yes, that's right, I'm watching Early Edition on PAX tv. (which means I have to tolerate things like infomercials for "50 most loved hymns") It's excellent... and I still have my secret crush on Gary Hobson.

Anyhoo, today was a Monday. I continue to hopelessly wait for the end of the horrors of soccer season. I continue to despair of ever getting into college, mostly because I cannot stand the apps. I continue to wish my life wasn't empty and meaningless. But hell. We can't all have everything we want. And some of us can't have anything we want.

On the brightside, I have big weekend plans. Friday is sort of undecided right now, but Saturday after the game is HALLOWEEN PARTY (because I love Halloween sooo). And Sunday looks like pumpkin picking. And Monday of course will include trick-or-treating. So that lightens things up a bit.

Russian violinists. How tragic and sort of Nicolov-romantic. Oh and look, vodka, too.

And that cat. I love that cat.

Barbed-Wire Noose

I hate myself I hate myself lalalala I hate myself and no one cares and no one should but i'm so emo right now lalala

I cannot even handle myself right now. I feel so sick, and I feel like everything else in my life is being shot to hell. I feel like I'm destroying myself. I haven't made ANY progress on my stupid apps, because everytime I try to I feel overwhelmed. I have missed all this school from being sick, and thus have tonnes of make-up work to do, not to mention a history paper I don't even know where to begin with. (It's about art and architecture. Come on. How unfair is that?) On top of this, I feel like everyone has a perfect social life except for me, which is gay, no one has a perfect social life (unless you're those people where there are only two people in your whole life, yourself and someone else, and you're so absorbed in each other you don't respect anyone around you) but I feel like I never get to do the things I want to do, and everyone around me gets to do them instead. Like I'm always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And to top it all off, I feel like no one cares. Well that's not true, I know a few people who care. I know lots of people who will say they care, but I kind of doubt it. It's all good and well to say you feel empathy, but few poeple have ever actually shown it to me. Which is why I would like to take the time to thank Shannon, who always listens to me vent, and always has ideas or whatever to make things better, and who never pretends that I"m not my own enemy and that I"m making things up. Thank you shanni, since I know you feel underappreciated, too.

And I do feel underappreciated, a thought which disgusts me as much as I'm sure it disgusts you. But it still comes. I feel like I do tonnes for everyone else, but if I really want something, no one else is helping me out. I need to come to terms with the fact I can't do everything on my own. It's just not possible. But everytime I say that to myself, everytime I remember that fact, I have something else to do. I take responsibility for things I have no business being responsible for. And usually I like it. But sometimes it's just too much.

Fuck. I don't know.

Huir

Today was one of those "just" days. School wasn't so bad, tolerable at any rate, though there was the slight flaw of my emergency trip for night-in-blue money. But soccer was hell, of course. Like worse than hell today, collapsing and whatnot. But we can't live in the past... must move on.

In the meantime, I have made plans for haunted housing this weekend, perhaps saturday night after the soccer game that I unfortunately assume we're having. Beyond that, there is little to expect from the weekend.

Today I visited Malley's. That was cool, until I was driven to flee, which I did more quickly than I would have imagined. I mean I was like a rabbit darting from a fox. Or a cheetah darting to a gazelle. You know, animal similies and all of that jazz.

In all defence for my cowardly self, in light of the fact that I have been forgiven for my bastardliness, I have extended the hand of forgiveness to someone I perhaps rather would not have. So that's a start at least.

Um, in other news, I have made absolutely zero progress on my college apps, and have lost all hope in attending college. Tri-C here I come.

Right. So after soccer I was like having a nice little breakdown. But I got a fun text message so everything is okay. And now I'm watching the Incredibles, which just can't fail to amuse me.

Well, my cowardly self must be off.

Put the ART in Retarded

Ugh. I wish I wasn't still in GRADE SCHOOL sometimes. Okay, I'm a senior in HIgh School. So why do I feel like I'm with a group of seventh graders like the ones who visited our awful school today? People act so immature... and suck you into acting immature, too. So you look, sound, and most improtantly feel like an ass.

It's horrid when you're torn between knowing that your actions were immature and thoughtless and yet at the same time not actually feeling guilt for their repurcussions.

It's sort of like, "I'm sorry you caught me, I'm not sorry I did it". Okay, whatever. Talking behind people's backs. Um, excuse me, just because it's wrong doesn't mean that we don't realize that every single person does it. Hello, it's High School. We don't even have to go to the same school to talk about people. People talk about me- hell, I know what half of them say. I don't even care, because I'm reminding myself that I can't please everyone. And that it is unhealthy to try to please everyone. Just like it is unhealthy to spend every waking moment with a person, or to shy away from the inevitabiliy of life.

Alright so I did it. I'm not proud of it. But that doesn't necessarily mean that what was said was untrue. Just because you think that you're almighty and can do no wrong, doesn't mean you're right about that. I'm going to hell, I don't care. That's where the party will be.

I can't even seem to connect coherent thoughts together. All I can think about is how stupid this is. And how the only reason I care is because I feel like an awful person for not actually caring. There's actually only one person I am sort of worried about right now, and I'll work on that later. For now, it's a quarter past one am,a nd I have freaking soccer tomorrow.

I've Got My Hash Pipe

Today, of course, sucked. School was painful, Soccer was painful. It's almost over. Soccer anyway. And school only pains me because everyone is so emo, not because it's school. Because let's face it- it's senior year. School is futile.

But after I got back from soccer (at 7:30... damn) and showered, things were still looking down, which made me sad. Liz was grounded, so our movie-going seemed out, and Scott was being toolish and didn't want to see a movie and I don't know where Sean was. But hoorah-hoorah, just when things were looking bleakest, Kristen called to say she was set free early! So we went to see Waiting. Which excited me SOOOO much.

We got there, and I recognized the vehicle that is Dan's, for I just had a run-in per se with it two Mondays ago... good times, good times. Anyhoo, so we saw him and waved and whatnot, and then when we went to get our tickets, I realised I was an idiot and didn't bring my driver's lisence with me because I didn't drive. And they were actually carding. So I didn't know what to do, but Dan said if I gave him the mulah, he'd buy the ticks, but he didn't actually have to do that because Kristen just did. (haha and I paid entirely in quarters. hoorah for being poor and ghetto)

So we got in the movie, which was quite full. I knew Tricia and her elite bando crowd were there, so I was looking for them, but instead found Naz, who is another favourite of mine. I get excited when I see her in public places, such as the theatre or Harry Potter release parties. Anyway, she was with Bill Fox, who I always manage to run into at the oddest times. And two rows up were my darling bando friends, and so Kristen and I sat in the row between and experienced the best of both worlds, aka, tormented Tricia.

We enjoyed the movie vastly. Halfway through, Naz had to jet, so Bill came and sat by us. Yeah, so we looked all popular (phsst, what a lie) and such, with the bandos surrounding us and bill fox with us and basically I was thinking "what a random group of people" the whole time. But I love it, the random mixings that comes from trying to know everyone at everytime. Anyhoo, the movie was great and such, not quite as spectacular as I might have hoped, but still hilarious. Dane Cook continues to amuse me beyond reason.

And now here I am, exhausted.

Another busy day tomorrow, leave one.

Get a Helmet

Hocus Pocus can make the bad stuff go away.

Okay. Today sucked a whole lot. I'm not emo, so relax yourselves. But it really was an awful start to the week. First of all, because of my horrid slackerness, I had to get up at 6 am and write that stupid history free response. I know, I know, that's my own fault. But still it was a rotten start, stupid American Revolution. I don't see why we didn't just stay attached to Britain anyway, they weren't that tyrannical. And they talk and spell cooler than we do.

Then I get to school and finish the essay but oh, wait, I don't have any bloody time to do my stats. Which I don't care that much about, but I forgot I lended Caitlin my calculadora, and so I couldn't even learn how to make a residual graph. And i have like 12 homework problems to do now, but I'm still lacking a calculator, so I can't do any of them.

Then we get to chem, where I just have no fucking clue what's going on. And poor Jen keeps doing our labs, and I feel bad, because she is doing all the work in that class, and it isn't fair, so I promised to do the next one, but then I realised that I have no fucking clue how to do anything in that class. So I'll probably fuck up the lab and then she'll get a bad grade because I suck at this stuff.

Then at lunch, after the Birthday Brigade struck, Liz got pulled over for a speeding ticket. Which isn't directly affecting me, but it still sucks because she was with me. I feel semi-responsible.

The rest of the day wasn't so bad, besides practice, but that's inevitable. Elizabeth and I went on a fun trip to Target, and then to Best Buy (fuckers can't fix the comp) and then to visit Syd at the rink. That whole ordeal was fun.

Current list of hates:
- talk-behind-your-back-ers
- drama
- emo
- irritations
- college apps
- soccer
- my lack of free weekends.

Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

SNL. So funny. Jon Heder. Werewolves.

Tonight was pretty fun. Dan's surprise party. And Sydnie got her surprise, finally, too. Which was exciting. And I drove around with some shady characters, and I, too, perticipated in the shadyness. That is all that I really feel like sharing.

Senior day was today at soccer. And hell, they even let me play. How surprising was that?

Guess what. Ed's Ignatius game in a week. I'm so excited. It's going to be a party.

I suddenly realise I have nothing to talk about.

Angry, Livid, Irate

A very dreadful myspace bulliten:

Body: You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction.You call me "Cracker", "Honkey", "Whitey" and even "The Man" and you think it's OK. But when I call you, "Nigger", "Kike", "Towelhead", "Sand-Nigger", "Dune Coon", "Camel Jockey", "Beaner" or "Chink" you call me a racist.

You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you, so why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live?

You say that you want to make a change in this country.How? By protesting everything that we believe in? By trying to change everything that has made this country run fine for centuries?
You have Martin Luther King Day.
You have Cesar Chavez Day.
You have Yom Hashoah
You have Cinco de Mayo
You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi
You have BET.

If we had WET(white entertainment television) we'd be racists.
If we had a White Pride Day you would call us racists.
If we had white history month, we'd be racists.
In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching for your race and rights.
If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.You enjoy the thought of Driver's Licenses for illegals.We enjoy the thought of people obeying the laws of the land in which they reside. No negotiations.
You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it. But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists.
You call each other "niggas", but when we call you that, you call us racists.

You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us. But, when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug-dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist. We work hard to perserve our history.

You come along and try to re-write it. We want a safe environment for our families and children. You want to bring the ghetto to our neighborhoods.

I am white.
I am proud.
I am an American.

But, you call me a racist.Why is it that only whites can be racists?
Repost if you agree



ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If there's one thing that thoroughly disgusts me, it's ignorance like this. So allow me to get started on just how dumb this is.

First of all, people of different races know it's wrong to call us names, just like we know it's wrong to call them names. They call us names anyway because we are bastards to them. We call them names anyway because we look down on them. Name-calling people based on race is jsut like name calling people for any other reason- "dweeb" "nerd" "retard"- there is no reason except to make the name-caller feel better about their dwindling self-esteem. Sticks and stones, love, sticks and stones. They don't really mean anything, and names can only ever hurt you as much as you let them. So suck it up and grow up, because news flash: name calling hasn't been 'in' since the second grade.

Secondly, ghettos are not just for black people. If any of these rediculous hicks had ever been to the ghetto, they would know that white people live there, too. It's just that in today's society, people sort of down play those less fortunate whites- it's only the black people who have poverty and violence in their lives. Which is ocmpletely not true, but the media these days... well, that's sort of another story. Not all people in the ghetto are bad, either- some people just can't get a break. If you really want to do something about hte ghettos, you should take action to get better education in the inner cities, and do what you can to improve failing economies like Cleveland's.

Next, holidays. Of course those holidays exist- they aren't based on race, you dumbasses, they're based on faith or ethnicity. And, okay, faith is another sort of pet-peeve of mine, but htat's more personal. But ethnicity? You want a white-based holiday? How about St. Patrick's Day- you don't htink there's a lot of black people or chinese people in Ireland, do you? (actually, there are the 'black irish', which may or may not be an offensive term, but that's not the point) How about fourth of July, which is for everybody, so stop feeling so gypped. And here's another newsflash: Christmas? Yeah, that's in honour of an Arabic guy. Yeah, Jesus. He was from the Middle East. How many of you hicks stopped to think about that? Ha! Your Jesus wasn't white. I know, hell jsut froze.

I don't think people understand that marching for black rights was different, because we did marginalize the blacks. They completely had a right, under our constitution and everything, to stand up for their rights of "life, liberty, and persuit of happiness" because we were pretty majorly infringing those rights. And you say that blacks do violence in return- well of course some do- when people spend years and years making your life miserable, you're going to fight back, and sometimes people only know how to fight violence with violence. No, that doesn't make it right, but strife is a fact of life. The only way to really stop violence is that whole "respect your neighbour" thing- regardless of whether your neighbour is black or white.

And okay, here's the worst one. The ghettos are not trying to take over our tidy suburban neighbourhoods with the perfectly manacured lawns and rip up our petunias and spray paint our houses. People from the ghettos who make the effort to work harder to live in a 'nice' neighbourhood should be cangratulated. They've worked hard to get where they are- harder than most other people in the suburbs. They deserve respect. And trust me, there's a lot of people in my 'hood that I don't necessarily respect. Just because black people moved into your neighbourhood doesn't mean the ghetto is taking over. It just means that you have to handle the fact that race doesn't define your economic status. Or at least it shouldn't.

Biologically, there is no such thing as race. It was a concept made up by radical conservatives in the mid to late 1800s in order to try to defend eugenics, a movement where the rich aristocracy tried to basically take over the world so that their perfect lives wouldn't be marred with the knowledge that there are poor people out in the world. No one should really define themselves by their colour- ethnicity? Fine. Religion? I suppose. Sex? Okay. But why do people insist upon trying to make distinctions on something that doesn't exist? If you walked from the equator to the north pole, the colours of skin would gradually change. Who's to draw the line of where black ends and white begins?

People have such queer mentalities. It's bullitens like this that prove that half of America is ignorant. It's the facists who have these thoughts that put George Bush in office, just because he's like their hick backwater relatives. And I shouldn't be too harsh, because Bush is pretty much a minion of corporate America, and the poor man takes such a beating for corrupt political bullshit that will probably never change. I mean, he, too is at fault, but I think he is pretty much jsut the face people (read: democrats) put to the ills of America.

To really change anything, you have to work together and respect your neighbours. I know, it's lame and theology-esuqe, but it's very true. But it's stupid ignorance like this bulliten that stops things like that from happening. Everyone thinks, "oh, the white man is discriminated against, too, people never talk about that" well duh, of course they don't. The white people are, for the most part, the ones with the power. And people without power discriminate against those with it. Not everyone is going to like you. Deal with it. Life isn't a homecoming dance where you vote on the king and queen. No one is really any better than another because of something as inane as the colour of your skin.The only thing that really makes someone a better person is if they treat others with more respect and if they can look past what's on the outside and judge a person based on character.

Okay, those're my thoughts. Like 'em? Fine. Don't like 'em? Tough.

Catch a Falling Star

I went running about an hour ago (well I was in the process about an hour ago) and it was dark and cool and very ideal for running. I enjoyed it to the maximum degree. And after the half-hour run, I took a little cool-down walk around the cul-de-sac and listened to "run" (Ironic? a little, perhaps) and glanced up when they sing "light up, light up" and saw a falling star, and it was somehow peaceful and wonderful and majestic and I liked it so deal with it.

Today we had no soccer, which was awesome to the max. And tomorrow there are no bloody coaches, just the team is going on a 45 minute run. Which will kind of suck, cuz I'm not sure if having my iPod will really fly, and I really don't like running without musics. Maybe they'll just let me be anti-social, it's not like they really like me anyway. Oh, I'm so overjoyed that the season is nearly through. 11 more season days, then first post season game 10/19 (yes, I'm missing Jason Mraz, and I don't care if that's lameXcore, I am pissed) and hopefully we'll lose and I'll be rid of the nonsense.

I can't believe we were seeded third. What bullshit.

Anyhoo, so I got home today and after reading a few more pages of "as you like it", which I started in lit, I promptly fell asleep for maybe an hour and a half. I haven't at this point done any of my actual homework.

I can't wait until October 15th for so many reasons.

Yes, and the weekend is looking good, though already booked, which is in some ways good and some ways bad. But I basically have to keep everything on the DL. Long story.

Ummm, besides my shooting star that excited me a lot, I don't really think there's a whole lot to report. Yeah, I know, life's pretty dull.

My automobile is a piece of crap

no it's not I love my camry but anyway.

So just now I was doing elizabeth's homework, for human geo. And the homework was to write a story using ten British slang words. I guess Visgak (oh, how I love that woman) (who else would chain saw their couch in order to move it?) gave them a website, and I went to this website, and during my precursory scan of the definitions, so that I could compile a few for a story, I stumbled upon the word "twat" which is defined as:
Twat - Another word used to insult someone who has upset you. Also means the same as fanny but is less acceptable in front of your grandmother, as this refers to parts of the female anatomy. Another use for the same word is to twat something, which would be to hit it hard. Get it right or I'll twat you over the head!

So that naturally excited me, after Katie and Kristen and I didn't know it's precise meaning, and dragging it out of Ryan and Sean was a nightmare. OMG THAT REMINDS ME I MISSED DANE COOK I HATE MYSELF.

Okay I'm calm.

No I'm not.

Anyway so here's my story:

Dear Dairy,
This morning was a nightmare. I swear- mornings wouldn’t be such a bloody nightmare if it weren’t for bloody traffic. First off, when you’re on the freeway, why is it that no one has a dekko before they merge? I thought my car would throw a spanner in the works. There are so many tossers out there, haven’t go a clue what their doing. I looked into that car, and what was it, but some little twat on her mobile, no doubt talking about some useless codswallop. And then there was another man, fat as anything, nibbling on some grub… well horses for courses, some say, but I think it’s rather naff to be eating on the morning drive. Makes you look a bit gluttonous, don’t you think? Well, I’ve decided, it’s the train for me from now on. None of this morning rush hour duff for me. I’m letting someone else put up with this bloody nonsense.


Well, Bob’s your uncle, that’s it for now.


Yes. I'm distraught. Um, yeah.

Forty-Two

I find the irony of our pennant fight amazing. Who could have even begun to think, at the beginning of the year, the the Indians had half a shot at the wild card? Yet here we are, at the end of the season... and we're trying to beat out Chicago for the pennant (okay, I don't hold tonnes of hope for that one, but hey, it's there) and New York and Boston are, as usual, at odds. And the last games of the year are Indians vs. Chicago and New York vs. Boston. I find it spectacular. I hope the Yankees beat out Boston, because a) I hate boston b) the Yankees aren't that bad and c) Boston has to lose if we're going to have a shot at the Wild Card. Oh how I've missed competitive baseball in Cleveland... it has been so many, many years since the INdians have been worth watching.

Oooh, Dane Cook is on Comedy Central this Sunday! I'm excited.

To whom it may concern, I stayed home from school today. It was boring as hell. I'm still kind of sick. But not throwing up. Whoo hoo.

I hate my immune system.

Sometimes I ponder how many lives Kenny has. And just how bad life in Eastern Europe is. And what life would be like if I were a really awesome skateboarder. But some things will remain mysteries forever.

Yay for second episodes of South Park!

Obviously my life has reached an all-time pathetic level.

I have problems understanding why people dump their cool boyfriends for freakish, far less cool people. Hell, I have problems understanding why some people can get boyfriends at all. But who am I to talk, no one wants me.

Good news, now is the time to try Enzyte! You can get up to six months free!

Oh, bummer, I've seen this one a billion times. Stupid Spoiled Whore! One day, I desire to travel to the true South Park, for I know it really exists. Shannon has told me legends of its splendor.

Okay this rambling has to end.

Twenty-Three

REady.... Set... LOST! That was pretty much the only worthwhile part of my day. I woke up sick, still, but mumsy dearest said I coldn't stay home unless I was either actually sick or if I agreed to go to the doctor. Naturally, I'd rather go to school and disease everyone than go to the doctor, so I went to escuela. However, soon after I got there I was doing that regurgitate in my mouth thing, so after my Stats testI went home. And I slept until 6. I'm going back to sleep presently.

I feel like sharing with you all about my fish. I think it just about cut off it's fin. It has a habit of that- cutting itself. Yeah, that's right- my fish is pretty emo. But usually it cuts it's forehead. This time, it was right underneath a fin, so it can't swim. So instead it folds itself over the hurt fin like a sandwhich, and sort of gimps around like a freak. It's sort of amusing to watch. I thought maybe the thing was finally done for, but I think as soon as the fin heals, it'll be back in action. That fish is..... crazy, in a word.

In other news, I still don't know what's going on this weekend.

And just to remind you, there's no point trying to explain that your feelings were hurt. No one really cares about how anyone else feels. Even your best of friends don't really care about the fact they hurt your feelings, and just make stuff into them being the victim. No one really takes the time to see it from someone else's point of view. It doesn't matter if you're not even mad, and it doesn't matter if you expect your friends to have a certain degree of respect for how you feel- they don't. I guess no one really cares about anyone else these days, so maybe I should give it up, too. And no, I'm not playing the victim, I'm jsut saying that no one cares about anyone, and I guess I'm one of those anyones. That's just how life rolls. So the moral of the story is: don't expect people to care about you just because you care about them.

And we wonder why I'm so cynical.

Anyhoo, I'm still upset in the general intestine region, so I'll be going to bed now. Leave something, if it makes you happy.

Sixteen

How come whenever I really want something to work out, it doesn't? I mean, to be honest, life is pretty generous about swinging my way in most regards, but it seems like when I really really want things to work out, they just don't. More triflious (not a word, but whatever) things usually pan out, but it's just like when I really, really care about something, it falls through an endless chasm to a quarrantine chamber.

Anyway, today, after getting eight hours of sleep last night, I was completely exhausted all day. I fell asleep in 50%ish of my classes. Then I left before soccer. I would have left during school, but the nurse was being bitch-tastic, and it rubbed off on my mom, who basically was like, "don't come home, the nurse doesn't want you to." So I stayed in school and slep through history and stats and lit, particularly through stats, until Elaine woke me up for a quiz. Which I might have done okay on, not sure. Anyhoo, so I came home and slept from 3:30 until 8:30, and then I'll probably go to sleep very soonly.

Why does it seem like the people you would do the most for never repay you the favour? Is it a lot to ask of a best friend to keep one promise, after breaking several in the last few weeks? Aparentally so.

Anyhoo. Carmina leaves soon. I'm still bumemd that we never went to Coventry, partially because I slept too much, and partially because she went off with her own plans yesterday.

Uhg, why am I so tired?

I still have that horrid feeling of detachment. I don't like it. Hopefully, once I'm done with El Futbol once and for all, the feeling will go away, and I'll be able to return to living the life. What life? I'm not sure. Just a life.

My battery's low, I'd better go.

Fifteen

So the Helena video is on MTV Hits, and I like it. It's a good video, you know. I hope at my funeral, everyone dresses all goth/punk like (maybe everyone could swing by Hot Topic?) and dances. Owing to the fact that half my friends are thespians, it probably has a decent probability of occuring.

So my trip to Cedar Point? Totally didn't work out. I'll tell you what- it's hard to make plans when half the poeple joining you don't speak English. I can't believe they leave in less than a week. I still feel like the worst host ever, but what can you do? At least soon enough, I can have a monopoly over my time again. I know. I'm a selfish bitch. Oh well.

Last night I totally wasn't feeling the rave scene, so instead I went to Anne's birthday (after dropping off Carmina and Christina at the rave). It was pretty fun, saw some poeple again, some people for the first time this weekend. And then, when I could no longer appear thespianish any longer, I went to Moran's house, and hung out with Syd, Barry, Justin, Brian, and Rudy. We watched the new Family Guy movie, it was hilarious. Pretty much made my night, I'll tell you that.

I suppose that's all. I really do want to go to Cedar Point one of these days, but I'm not sure how that will work out.

My bloge posts are lame.

I don't care enough to change that at this point.

Eight

So party time last night? Yeah, pretty sweet. Most of you were there, but I'll throw some highlights out there for you:
~any english person's attempt to speak spanish
~parker
~the groping game
~the search party sent out after me
~the two times I ran away from my own party
~the pow-wow on the side of the road
~me jumping on the hood of not Joe's car
~dancing like loons
~pillow fights
~the spanish sandwhich game

All in all, it was an interesting way to experience culture. I haven't checked the basement yet for abandoned things, but I will, let me know if you're missing stuff.

Anyway, I just woke up and I feel pretty bad, the West Side Market and Cat's volunteer thing just got wasted. And now I have a game in two hours that I don't want to go to, because I'm not going to play anyway.

Anyway though, rave tonight, and hopefully that will be fun.

So Carmina leaves in exactly one week. It'll be nice to have some free time, but I feel liek I was a really lousy host the whole time, because I barely saw her. I've been an only child for too long, I'm too used to having the house and my time to myself.

There's really nothign to write, is there? Oh, fuck I'm so tired.

Four

Ahhh lala. I jsut finished doing the dishes. Aparentally after my inspiration yesterday, it's now my official job? Which is rediculous, because it's not like they actually witnessed me do them, so for all they know, the dishes cleaned themsleves, or I hired someone, or I threatened Carmina. Which is not true, because dishes are inanimate objects, no matter what fantasia tries to tell us, and I odn't have the money to hire someone, and I wouldn't threaten Carmina as she's our guest- not that I could even find her to threaten her.

It just rained for literally like fifteen seconds. That's it. Now it's done.

Anyway. I use that word way too often as a transition. Oh, well. Anyway (teehee) today was not that great. School was long and tedious, and it felt like it should be Friday all day. But I did give two good Lost recaps to Spi and Chels, who both missed it (I'm so disappointed in them). Also we had a debate in History about who Cleveland is fighting for the wild card with. I thought Oakland was behind them, Shannon thought the Yankees, Kelsey said Boston. I guess it used to be Oakland, but now it's the red sox. Okay I feel less dumb. I'm kind of out of the baseball loop- it's been years since the Indians were good enough to watch. Also we had a discussion in World Lit about how much more useful it would be if we took a home ec class rather than a real ec class. I mean, yes, we sort of learned useful tools in Econ, but at the end of the day, which is more useful- profit marginilization or knowing how to keep yourself alive with a needle, a thread, and some yeast? Okay, bad example. I mean, sure Econ is nice and all- but I just think learning to keep house could be more valuable and less anti-women's-lib than people think. Basically I love to cook, and I know how to sew, and I actually secretly enjoy cleaning kitchens and bathrooms (I can't stand organizational cleaning, like my room, but I love scrubbing stuff until it's shiny) (you know like if my room was already orgnaized, I'd be fine- vacuuming is cool, cleaning the furnature is cool, but I'm so not looking forward to putting those beads away that I've spilt) Anyway. What was I talking about?

So I feel really badly because tomorrow I have a bunch of people coming over, and amongst them is a poor little freshman. With a bunch of seniors. And we're not bad seniors, it's not like we'll be having our orgy while smoking pot and drinking from our keg. But still, think of when yoiu were a Froshie- chances are hanging out with a bunch of seniors you didn't know wasn't that appealing to you.

I'm sitting here in my P.J.'s feeling generally under-the-weather and losing my voice (freaking laryngitis, probably) and lazy. I sucked at soccer today, which only kind of depressed me, because the amount of care is dwindling. We're talking like less than -1.7ish standard deviations right now. If you're in the hell we call Stats, you'd appreciate that. Well, you actually won't at all, but you will understand it.

Tomorrow should be fun, I hope, but I can't even talk so maybe not. At least maybe everyone else can have a good time. And of course Saturday is Rave 2.0, and Sunday is Cedar Point, maybe, no one's really sure at this point. So party it up all weekend, mi hearties!

I guess that's all to report tonight.

But No One Really Likes it Anyway

PAX TV= Early Edition. Oh, how I love the memories of the olden days.

Today was sort of useless, as many Wednesdays are. However, unlike Wednesdays past, there was the wonder of Lost to allieviate the tedium. Actually, I wasn't bored at all. Tonight was one of those nights when you are just completely motivated. My particular motivation was in the form of movement and desire to be outdoors. (Not like the times when one is motivated to actually do homework or colour a picture or whatnot) So I cleaned the entire kitchen, I swiffered it and everything, and then I swept the porch, and then I still had energy to kill, so I went on a ten-minute jog through the neighbourhood... make that sprint. Okay sprint is an exageration... but I would put it one notch above Hannah's jog speed. Anyway, after that there was a two-hour Lost episode, and now I'm here, watching Early Edition, and talking to people online.

Yesterday was a nice change in pace. No soccer. So I hit up Starbucks for the first time in ages. Then we got home, and I talked online with various people, which all basically culminated in Kristen ocming over and bawling for half-an-hour. But things like that happen. It's the natural course of things.

I love being the eyes and ears of other people.

Anyway, I am tired, but content. I was awesome enough to read about 100 pages of the Oddessy today, so I figure that's enough work for one night... and let's not talk about my huge vocab test tomorrow for spanish... I don't like thinking about it.

How about Jon Steward makes my night? Almost as much as Mrs. Visgak makes my days.

GAWD. It's impossible to write good bloge posts when you're talking to important people.

See you guys friday.


P.s. I'm not going to prom. Why? Because my mom is.

Song for a Friend

Well today was, in a word... different.

I feel a lot older right now. Which is intersting, because I'm not old at all- I'm young, nothing more than a silly little teenager, ignorant and naive, waiting for life to begin.

It's funny. Things are constantly changing. Tastes and prefeances, favourites, situations, feelings, friendships. Sometimes you notice, but I don't think we usually notice chage- the gradual ones, like going from excited to bored, like changing from being a rap fan to loving alternative rock- the type of changes that mean very little in the grand sceme of things.

But every once in a while, rapid change occurs. Something that deeply affects those around us, and consequently us. Like when best friends break up. It's sad. But change happens. The problem is being on both sides of an argument. Seeing the point that both people are making. It's hard when they're your best friends, and you love them both, and don't want to see either of them in pain, but you know no matter the outcome, someone will be hurting or unsatisfied. What can you do in these situations? I suppose usually this is the type of thing I'd like to make better- fix it Stef, fix it, that's what I'm for, the purpose I give myself. Live my life vicariously through others. Fix their problems, see everybody happy.

It's a noble idea, yes. But it's impossible. We just don't live in a world where everyone can be happy. And in all this time of preferring to make others happy, what have I ever done for myself? Not that selfishness is good, but we all havethe right to pursue happiness, right? Well, maybe we don't, I haven't gotten around to actually doing that Declaration homework... but yeah, what I'm saying is that we have to let go. Of others and of ourselves. Lose the drama, right? Granted, as nice of a thought that is, it's not very likely in many cases- like in an all girls catholic school. But we ought ot try.

Which is why I feel older. I'm finally putting into action what I already know- to let things go. That we can't fix everything, because everything's not meant to be changed. That doesn't mean I don't care, which I know is a difficult concept for some people to understand. I do care, I care for my friends, and that's why I don't want anything to do with it. I'm here for them if they need to talk, I'm here to comfort them, but it happened, and the actual situation per se is none of my business. Let it go, things will evolve as they will.

The whole feeling of growing up was supplimented by the reminder that we never let go of the past, and in a way we can never change who we are at the deepest level. I read a conversation from MArchish of freshman year. I was young and immature (like I often am still) but the humour was the same, the wording and conversations- I guess I'll always be me. I'm not a very changing person, am I? A static character, I reckon.

So anyway, in light of this growing up, I guess I really am going to make an effort not to care about the drama and just go out and have a good time. Instead of acting based on the idea that I don't want to cause drama, I'm going to do whatever the hell I want and if people don't like it, whatever, I'm not going to be involved with the drama. I mean, I am not the type of person to become reckless or anything, and I'm not going to do anything stupid to actually hurt someone else, but neither will I just sit by and let life go it's course. Im going to jump in that river and take a swim.

So Who's Going to Watch You Die?

I'm going to be honest. The new Death Cab CD, as lovely and beautiful as it naturally is, is also alarmingly depressing. Which isn't very helpful of my mood, which today is sort of lonely. But that's because I spent all day in Columbus, having no contact with any of my friends, and by the time I came back it was too late (and I was too tired) to do anything. So poor Carmina is downstairs watching TV because I couldn't find anything better to do with her time.

So now here I am, wasting my life away online, because newsflash: there's nothing better to do when half your friends are at an OLA fest you've already attended, and the other half hauled out to freakin Pennsylvania without you. You know, it's not really like I'm bitter or anything.... not that it's anyone's fault really, except Eileen's, because she kept me on the god-forsaken soccer team. (We finally won a game today, btw- 6 or 7-1, and yes, that one was all my fault.)

So basically today was a waste of a perfectly good weekend day. The only thing I did was read a few chapters of the Oddessy. Which is actually quite a good book, I'm enjoying it immensely. I just don't have enough of a chance to read.

Yesterday was fun though. After I got back from soccer and killed time, Carmina, Christina, Ana and I (no, there wasn't any english being spoken in that car- but there wasn't any spanish either, so I couldn't very well keep up with the conversation) went to the OLA fest. I actually hate festivals, and didn't bother bringing money, so they wandered off and I waited for Caitlin and shannon to show, which they soon did. We wandered about for a while, running into various (mostly drunken) maggots that we knew, and Matt what's-his-name from the play. (biggins maybe?) And talked to him so that we appeared less uncool, which totally got defeated when the spanish girls walked by with about seven of their friends and their hosts. (Yeah.... that's right. The girls from Barcelona, a city about 5,000 miles away from Cleveland were more popular than Shan, Cait, and I, the natives.) I also ran into random bando friends of Tricia, Jeremy and Scott, and I was super proud that I remembered their names and I could introduce them and not make an ass of myself. And Colleen and Lolo met us, they were... um... tipsssssss.. but what can you do, so were most other people there. After a while, the contingent of maggots got too strong for me to handle, and so I picked up the spaniards and dropped them home, and then carmina and I went home, where cait and shan were feasting upon the wonder that is cookie dough.

So next weekend is going to be super busy, but hopefully super fun. Friday will be the fiesta espanola at mi casa, then saturday the Bay game and the rave, then sunday possibly we're off to cedar point. I'm looking forward to next weekend's chaos.

Alright. I'm outie.

If You Feel, A Little Left Behind

Today was quite a busy thing.

I got up bright and early after a nice, fucked up sleep (thanks to my coma) and went to soccer, which was lame, but soccer-y, so whatever. I don't even notice it anymore, it's just an inevitability of life.

Okay, so then I showered and clothed, and may I say, clothed in a super-girly manner (I really usually am too lazy for words- sweatpants, t-shirts..... sooo lazy) but that's okay because I had sparkly shoes and that's what matters.

Shit, I can tell the benadryll is already kicking in.

Anyway, no use stopping now.

So then mother made me do grocery store run, for the stuff for soccer in Mentor tomorrow, and she failed to give me enough money, so I was broke. Then I picked up Kristen, and we went to Crocker Park and picked up Carmina and Christina, who were there with Juge, and we took them back home to change and shower. Then we went to the almighty liquid planet.

After Liquid planet, we went to Ignatius, since they didn't get there in time for lunch. We were sitting around on campus for a while, Carmina and Christina talking to their friends (who are quite attractive spanish specimens), and Kristen and I talking to Nick Ohlrogge, which was odd but cool I suppose, and being stared at by boys in general, until we got kicked off the campus by the dean of students. (Mind you, prior to that, their like head preist dude walked by and just said, "hello ladies") So after three whole minutes of waiting for the school day to end, Kristen and I stood awkwardly by the school's entrance and randomly talked to people we knew, like Ryan and Scott. After a bit, I noticed the gangly shape of Skoch in the distance, and so we went to talk to him and Ricky. So we hung out for a bit, and I saw young Nick Hubner, which was great, good science olympiad times, and then we talked to Ohlrogge for a bit more, and then Carmina & spaniards went to Wendy's, and Kristen and I decided it would be fun to go find the jugglers.

We did indeed find them, with the aid of some random freshman friend of Timmy's (it's so nice- we had double control over him- 1 cuz we're seniors, and 2 cuz we're girls) and we managed to scare the shit out of Brady when he attempted to leave the gym and we were hiding behind the door so the teacher wouldn't see us. Then Skoch and Ricky exited and we sat around and talked for a while. And just because of something Skoch said (well he didn't say it, he was relaying it to me) I would just like to point out that I am not a lesbian, I am just too ugly to ever have a boyfriend, not to mention probably too self-centred to ever make a good girlfriend. Soo yes, eat that.

Anyway, so then after that was done, we went back to Wendy's (mind you at this point, we've been at Ignatius for like two hours, and people just keep looking at us like we're aliens, particularly the freshmen). Poor random little freshman latin-speaker was there with about six spanish-speaking senior-level kids. Kristen and I felt bad for him. Anyway, we left shortly after, and I took Christina and Carlos home, and then dropped Kristen off, and now I'm here. Thinking about doing my DBQ. Thinking about it.

And that's what counts.

In all reality, I'm probably going to pass out from the meds. See ya at ten o'clock.

So Many Possibilities

To not be alone.


Ahhh, how nice not to have school tomorrow, and to know that I'll be done with practice early! Of course, today I took a benadryl after school and pretty much slipped into a coma for four hours (so you took a coma after work? did you have a nice coma?) and missed all these calls from Juge and Laura, and basically didn't know where Carmina was. Yeah, I'm a pretty sweet foreign exchange student host- I've lost her like 60 times, I never know where she is because I always have to run off to do stuff (or I pass out) and thus just kind of hope she'll find her way home. She must hate me, I wouldn't blame her.

Anyway, I'm pretty much completely jealous of Katie, Shannon, and Caitlin, who are all headed to Chicago for our random Wednesday off. I miss chicago, and I miss New York, too, and basically I just miss being not in Cleveland. But tomorrow I'm thinking we'll journey to Iggy's for a nice lunch break with Carmina's various spanish friends (at wendy's.... ew) and, of course, to rub in the fact we don't have school! On a Wednesday! um, whoohoo!

New Death Cab CD= sooo majestic. Yes, majestic. It's sort of my new adjective to describe what I love. I got tired of all the old ones.

New iTrip= also majestic, because it makes listening to new Death Cab 100 times more possible.

New shoes= sparkly and joyful. That's all.

Tonight, Juge wandered off with Carmina, so I went to Clare's and hung out with her and Elizabeth (and Syd, as well, for a short time) Which was fun. They are good girlies, I don't see any of them enough, particularly Elizabeth, who I am lacking classes with. We sat around 'watching' Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle, but really we just had many discussions, particularly what we'd do if we became pregnant (horror of horrors, dammit) and how Adam is apparenally actually normal. (I have yet to be proved that)

Um, anyway, I guess that's all that's really new around here. I did write Clare a pretty awesome poem today, about the Lobsters in her hair. Yeah, definately ask her about that one. It's pretty awesome, along with my song about stats.

Okay. That's all. To those of you at Bloc Party: so jealous.

Bursting at the Seams

I really wish I could get the divine inspiration that lead me to write "the green house" more often. It would be so convienent, and my bloge posts wouldn't always be so horribly dull.

Today was the Texas/Ohio State football game. Not that I really understand football at all- it seems like such a neanderthallish sport to me. And why, oh, why does it take four hours to get through a game that should technically be about an hour long? It's so pointless, all the stopping. Just keep playing, no one wants to see you all walking around slapping each other's asses and whatnot.

Today also marks day six of having a foreign exchange student. Not gonna lie (the famous phrase of Jera) it was sort of awkward at first. But now that we've gotten to know eachother better, it's much easier to get along. The language barrier definately makes things a bit difficult, but it's not so bad. I just wish I had more stuff to do. I realised today, in the midst of making plans, that I lead a life that, to an outsider, may seem very dull.

Today is also the fourth anniversary of September 11th, which is odd to me. Four years seems like such a long-ass time. I was in eighth grade back then- in charge of the school. Now, I am again. And this time it's not so much a terrorist disastor, but rather a natural one- the hurracane. People are making a huge deal out of it. Which is not, of course, to say that the hurricane is not a big deal, because it is. But it's odd to think that the current chaos in America- the cause of economy failure, loss of life, and the coming together of the american people- is this time caused by nature, a force people so often forget about. Same thing back in September 11th- people never thought about terrorists, they were just like, "hell, that's for the people in palestine, america's golden, screw it" and look waht happened. Now it's as though people are like, "nature? fuck nature. We're humans, we can rape the earth all we want"... but nay, the earth has its revenge. Which makes you think- how many other things are we neglecting to remember can come back and bite us in the ass. It's like Dane Cook (oh thou art wise) says... "what if out of the UFOs come giant Native Americans?" That's just the type of kick we need, all the Indians coming back and retaliating for the centuries of abuse by us. I hate to say it, but it pretty much serves us right for being a selfish bitch of a country.

And there's my patriotism there for ya.

On the other hand, tomorrow I shall be attending an Indians game for the first time in ages, and it promises to be a good one, as the Indians fight their way to the pennant... erm, wild card. But it sounds less sucky if I say pennant.

Anyway, anyone with awesome plans in the ocming month, lemme know. Since some people ditched me for the alkaline trio/mcr concert, and now I shan't be going. I'm so angry.

Grr.

If You Feel Discouraged

It's been a long time. I haven't got the time or the motivation to do a real post, so instead I'm going to be revolutionary and post some homework. You see, we had to write five (I've only yet done three... oops...) pre-writes on college essays. So I thought that by posting them, I would be able to a) get them typed up for school; b) practice my typing skills (I'd be a kickass secretary); c) give you all an insight or two into my soul; d) have an excuse to be on a compter.

so see how useful these were?

1)The world tells us that our role models are to be found in the generation ahead of us. Society dictates that we should strive to act as those of the generation ahead of us do- that our parents and grandparents are the personification of today’s ideals.
This idea is not incorrect. I believe my parents and my parents’ friends are good people, and good role models. But I also believe that true humility can be learned from those younger than us. Whether by a day or a decade, we are reminded that age does not inevitably lead to wisdom and grace. Rather, we are reminded that only true perseverance and firm morals will lead us to wisdom.
One of my best friends is a perfect example of this. Caitlin was born on the first day of 1988. By this time, I had a week of life experience under my belt. Fast forward fourteen years, to the beginning of our high school careers. I met Cait within the first week of that year, and within the month, we were close friends.
Over the years, Caitlin has been a source of laughter, inspiration, and occasionally frustration. Caitlin is one of the most creative people I know. She has talent in each of the arts- music, painting, drawing, writing, and speaking; all come second nature to her. She is also involved with everything and anything- whether it is Youth Challenge, theatre, or work. Cait exposed me to each of these experiences. In freshman year, I joined crew because she did, and it swiftly became one of my favorite extra-curricular activities. In sophomore year, when I was looking for a service opportunity, she boasted about the fun of Youth Challenge. Naturally, I wanted to join, and it turned out to be an amazing and enlightening experience. We even shared the joys of working with ice cream, and often argued over the differences between custard, soft serve, and old-fashioned ice cream.
Cait has been a good friend to me for these past years. She has been there for me unfailingly when I need her- whether listening to my problems or bringing me Vitamin Water while sick in bed- she has never wavered in her friendship. It must be said, we don’t always agree on things, and we both are stubborn people, but these characteristics are what make our friendship so dynamic.
Caitlin always sets and example. She never follows the crowd, which is one of the things I admire most about her. She fights for what she believes in with a passion that inspires all. Her taste is distinctive, and a unique and perfect expression of herself. She is never afraid to be this self, and I strive to be as much of an individual as she is.
Caitlin may be a bit younger than me, but I believe her individualism and creativity are characteristics I should hope to accomplish in myself. It is truly humbling to look up to someone who is a peer, who is even younger than me. Caitlin has been a steadfast friend and a true role model during my high school years.

2)On a dark, humid summer’s night, three teenagers drove aimlessly around a lakeside suburb of Cleveland. Two lived in another nearby neighbourhood, and the third had journeyed from across the city, in the same blue Camry they now drove in.
On hot summer nights like this one, in the middle of July, there is never anything to do. The novel idea of ‘every day is a weekend’ loses its charm around Independence Day. New ideas are exhausted, and there is not yet the imminent threat of school to spur you into true motivation. There was nothing different about this mid-summers night. Until one had an idea.
With a jerk, Elizabeth was reminded of the stories of her father’s high school escapades. ‘Let’s do something stupid,’ she suggested with excitement, which went naturally un-comprehended by her friends. Before further explanation was requested, she went on, ‘Let’s steal an orange barrel.’
It is often joked that, in Ohio, there are four seasons- winter, more winter, still winter, and construction. This said July evening fell in the ‘construction’ category. One simply could not find a route from point A to point B without the orange construction barrels impeding their progress. It seems as though inspiration can come from strange places- even unsightly orange plastic.
Instantly, the three teenagers because fugitives. They had everything in place for a crime- motive (boredom) means (a car and six good hands), and opportunity (for when was better than at this hour, operating in the dark covet of night). All the makings of a crime were set in place.
One unavoidable truth of useless objects (such as orange barrels) is that they are in the way everywhere all the time- until you actually need them. It was important to find just the right place to take it from, so it wouldn’t be missed.
Once the cone was found, the friends sprang into action. Elizabeth and her neighbour Kevin flew from the car as the driver watched for passing cars. Within brief yet agonizing moments, Elizabeth shouted the order, ‘Go!’ and Kevin had packed himself into the back with the surprisingly large orange barrel.
They sped away from the scene with one though on their minds- ‘what do we do with it’? There was only on option in their minds- to leave it elsewhere. The car wove its way to a neighbourhood not so far from the crime scene, and they left the victim in the front driveway of Elizabeth’s boyfriend’s house. After this, they fled the city.
In the coming days, the three laughed watching neighbourhood children playing with the mysterious cone from the night. When the epic unfolded, a fad quickly popped up to leave barrels as tokens of admiration for one’s friends.Nearly a year has passed, but, especially with the advent of a new summer, the tradition continues at times. A smile never fails to show on this driver’s face when she thinks of the crime committed and the unexpected trend it began

And here is my personal favorite, which I entitled "The Green House":

In a twisting, confusing suburban neighbourhood, children play. Two nine-year-old girls ride sparkly princess bikes past a green colonial. Across the street a group of six-to-eight year old boys play with trucks of a vivid yellow hue. In the backyard next door, a four-year-old struggles to push herself on a swing. But outside the green house with the white garage, there is the most laughter heard. Outside the green house are five seventeen-year-olds, playing a childish game of SPUD.
The other kids in the neighbourhood had to ride their bikes to each other’s houses- but outside the green house sit four cars, glinting in the afternoon sun. Other kids on the street fight over who will play with each toy; but outside the green house, five teenagers work together without dispute. In grassy yards, children struggle to learn concepts and skills- but in the yard of the green house, five athletes use talents they have so long developed- in soccer, softball, track, volleyball, and football- to turn a childhood game into a true sport.
In the awkward years between childhood and the coming-of-age into adulthood, it is good to know that not all kids hurry to grow up. It’s good to know that entertainment is not confined to being ‘plugged in’- that fun is not limited to iPods, videogames, and AIM.
The cliché, ‘growing up doesn’t have to mean growing old’ is entirely true. Each of the seventeen-year-olds in front of that green house enjoyed the hot summer sun on their sunburnt skin, each laughed when they dodged the dirty white volleyball, and each was focused solely and intently on the game- a break from the drama of everyday teenage reality. This doesn’t mean these young adults haven’t grown up at all. On the contrary- obligations such as the SATs, ACTs, and college essays cross their mind frequently. Family tragedies have passed through their lives from time to time, teaching them strength and courage. The necessity of responsibility hovers closer and closer, a reminder of their journey into adulthood.
This game represents the last months of being children. Soon they will turn eighteen, and the government will see them as adults. Soon the will graduate, and the school will see them as adults. Soon they will go to university, and their peers will see them ad adults.
But for a few months, they can still be children. They can still spell SPUD and toss a Frisbee and watch cartoons and run in a game of tag. Perhaps at age eighteen or nineteen they can do these things. But these are the fleeting moments of dependency, the last times you will ever be together as children, instead of being together as adults, thinking of the past. These are the ‘olden days’ you will speak about years and years from now- olden days acted out in the muddy lawn in front of the green house of your best friend. These are the memories that last a lifetime.


Yes, yes, well those are all very well and such, but I believe I have two more to write. WEll, perhaps only one more for the evening... maybe just none at all?

Shit, I've run out of inspiration!