Long time no update, seriously. I've been checking my friends page every once in a while and I guess everyone is just too freaking busy to write anything. I've been stressing about college, way prematurely. And I had planned on dumping math after junior year...no such luck. Some of my top choices don't accept credits from junior high...yeah, so basically I did a lot of that work for nothing. I've been able to identify math as the main stress factor in my life. In fact, our relationship (myself and math) has a great deal in common with a textbook abusive relationship. It's controlling, I don't respect it...blahh. The musical is this weekend...I kind of can't wait for it to be over. It's actually been a ton of fun, but I kind of need a break. Except then I'll hate myself for being lazy.
April 23rd, 2007
tightly woundDecember 8th, 2006
The past year, through the first sentences of the first entry of each month. Good idea, thanks Sam.
I don't know if you all know this...
I will never forgive myself if I don't share with you but a few words.
If you had Huntington's Disease and were going to fall apart and die in middle age...would you want to know?
I only did that for dramatic effect.
So Prom was Friday.
Every sentence I write looks ugly to me.
Somebody convince me not to delete this.
The "Causes of My Anger Countdown"
I've returned full-time to LJ.
( ) ( ) ( )
Guess I haven't written in a while. I don't know what to say. I've been writing for the Thought Pot, which is nice. My sweet 16 is on Sunday, I'm not having a party or anything. Just like, interestingly enough, my astrology.com Birthday Report (haha) said, I've become more introspective. The past year has pretty much been my happiest ever, which I can attribute to multiple things...drama club people (not the club itself), medications, Barbizon (I don't know why, just believe me). I'm not gonna lie, I've gained some weight this year. Yet I'm more confident than ever before? I bought my family some kickass Christmas gifts in New York. (Melissa Wood is not even in band so) I consider it the best school trip of my life.
I know a lot of people who would be described as members of my "extended network" on myspace, acquaintances and such, and one close friend, had some serious problems this year, the kind people feel that they have to hide. But I think the close friend and I have both realized how much better it can be when those things are brought out into the (somewhat) open.
I don't know if you all know this...
I will never forgive myself if I don't share with you but a few words.
If you had Huntington's Disease and were going to fall apart and die in middle age...would you want to know?
I only did that for dramatic effect.
So Prom was Friday.
Every sentence I write looks ugly to me.
Somebody convince me not to delete this.
The "Causes of My Anger Countdown"
I've returned full-time to LJ.
( ) ( ) ( )
Guess I haven't written in a while. I don't know what to say. I've been writing for the Thought Pot, which is nice. My sweet 16 is on Sunday, I'm not having a party or anything. Just like, interestingly enough, my astrology.com Birthday Report (haha) said, I've become more introspective. The past year has pretty much been my happiest ever, which I can attribute to multiple things...drama club people (not the club itself), medications, Barbizon (I don't know why, just believe me). I'm not gonna lie, I've gained some weight this year. Yet I'm more confident than ever before? I bought my family some kickass Christmas gifts in New York. (Melissa Wood is not even in band so) I consider it the best school trip of my life.
I know a lot of people who would be described as members of my "extended network" on myspace, acquaintances and such, and one close friend, had some serious problems this year, the kind people feel that they have to hide. But I think the close friend and I have both realized how much better it can be when those things are brought out into the (somewhat) open.
pensiveAugust 18th, 2006
SNAKES ON A PLANE. That is all.
*Update* I lied. That's not all. At the time of the last entry, I thought there might be some chance for reconciliation with Justin and Carli. No longer do I think that.
One more time. SNAKES ON A PLANE...what a movie.
*Update* I lied. That's not all. At the time of the last entry, I thought there might be some chance for reconciliation with Justin and Carli. No longer do I think that.
One more time. SNAKES ON A PLANE...what a movie.
July 29th, 2006
I definitely just wrote a thing ranting about my day, a pushed-up sleeves kind of day where I made people flinch and demanded answers instead of asking. I am happy to report that my day was 100% bullshit-free. And I'm hoping that pattern will help me write something. About how I've been and might be.
They have me practice "mindfulness". In short, it's not getting lost in your head and concentrating on the "moment". It sounds corny but I heart it. I did it the other day in kickball, and it was like an acid trip. It's scary how much is going on that I don't even notice. My head, which had been swimming, came up for air for just a minute. I was using my senses just enough to notice something and discard it, call it unimportant.
It's like my head is swimming in cloudy water. Very little is actually distinguishable. Most of the time it's just white noise, because my daily tasks haven't been requiring much thought. Any higher level thinking is muted and confused. I don't trust my "feelings" because I seldom feel only one emotion. Most of the time it's one thing with one half of the brain, and the other half is evaluating whether that is the appropriate response to the situation.
You think because my compulsions aren't obvious I can't be very bad. Actually, I think that at times. I think everything all at once. But I have what they call intrusive thoughts. Fears, honestly paralyzing and horrifying fears that I'm going to act on completely unwanted sexual or violent impulses. They say I won't, that that's what separates me from a psychotic patient. But it gets so so so damn close. I don't trust my hands. I'm not friends with them. They want to betray me, work against the Jodie cause.
At night, especially, with these powerful impulses, it gets scary. Lonely. I find myself wishing for another warm body in my bed, for thoroughly nonsexual purposes, so they could maybe vacuum out my brain. Then I find my hands wanting to try to asphyxiate me.
Daytime, and it's better and worse. I feel slightly less disposed to hurt myself during the day. :-) And slightly less lonely. I interact with people, as my PE teacher would say, I have my functional health. My friendships, as of this exact second, are not troubled by the monsters. I credit the pills for this breakthrough. But it's impossibly hard sometimes, making myself figure out where the damn monsters are and where it's just Jodie the teenager being angsty. Think of a cookie you really like but with nuts you don't, and you try to eat the cookie without eating the nuts, which are all through the cookie.
I'm testing myself. By writing this. Fact of the matter is, I had a good week. I started some new treatments, and I'm just worried about becoming numb, as the emo turtles say.
They have me practice "mindfulness". In short, it's not getting lost in your head and concentrating on the "moment". It sounds corny but I heart it. I did it the other day in kickball, and it was like an acid trip. It's scary how much is going on that I don't even notice. My head, which had been swimming, came up for air for just a minute. I was using my senses just enough to notice something and discard it, call it unimportant.
It's like my head is swimming in cloudy water. Very little is actually distinguishable. Most of the time it's just white noise, because my daily tasks haven't been requiring much thought. Any higher level thinking is muted and confused. I don't trust my "feelings" because I seldom feel only one emotion. Most of the time it's one thing with one half of the brain, and the other half is evaluating whether that is the appropriate response to the situation.
You think because my compulsions aren't obvious I can't be very bad. Actually, I think that at times. I think everything all at once. But I have what they call intrusive thoughts. Fears, honestly paralyzing and horrifying fears that I'm going to act on completely unwanted sexual or violent impulses. They say I won't, that that's what separates me from a psychotic patient. But it gets so so so damn close. I don't trust my hands. I'm not friends with them. They want to betray me, work against the Jodie cause.
At night, especially, with these powerful impulses, it gets scary. Lonely. I find myself wishing for another warm body in my bed, for thoroughly nonsexual purposes, so they could maybe vacuum out my brain. Then I find my hands wanting to try to asphyxiate me.
Daytime, and it's better and worse. I feel slightly less disposed to hurt myself during the day. :-) And slightly less lonely. I interact with people, as my PE teacher would say, I have my functional health. My friendships, as of this exact second, are not troubled by the monsters. I credit the pills for this breakthrough. But it's impossibly hard sometimes, making myself figure out where the damn monsters are and where it's just Jodie the teenager being angsty. Think of a cookie you really like but with nuts you don't, and you try to eat the cookie without eating the nuts, which are all through the cookie.
I'm testing myself. By writing this. Fact of the matter is, I had a good week. I started some new treatments, and I'm just worried about becoming numb, as the emo turtles say.
tiredJuly 15th, 2006
I don't know what to say anymore, I really don't. Of course I knew I wasn't going to change the world. What does my motto of "Honesty, honesty, honesty" even really going to do? Nothing. I want to express myself. Fine. That's what I think will maybe save some relationships, some feelings, some people. Oh right. People have baggage that gets in the way. And I want to reiterate several points. If you have the time, please check out my 12/27/05 and 05/28/06 entries.
This is how I've been thinking. Why are we trained to not believe this baggage stuff? I mean teens are explaining their feelings to friends, parents, therapists better, using ideas from movies and TV. So it feels fake. It's flipping not. Or is it? I don't know. I don't know what I want. I don't know what anyone wants.
So now to my baggage. If I promised not to talk about the OCD ever again after the one time, I lied. I have been advised to not tell people and that's complete bull. I need to tell somebody, especially the few who read this, because we're all "bat-shit insane" anyway and at least we know it. Okay, so I'll operate under the assumption that OCD people aren't crazy! It's true, honestly. I'm not crazy. I sure as hell feel like it most days though.
I'm pretty sure I had a nervous breakdown but I can't find a definition so I can't label it. I don't know whether or not I can blame the medication, and with the statistics that health professionals spout out it looks less likely. Let's just say my OCD is a lot worse than I've been telling myself. A LOT worse than most of you see. If my feelings from Monday night had happened at a different time, like during the day in public, I would undoubtedly have been placed in a mental hospital. I hate how the one doctor is telling me that OCD is just a small part of "Jodie", who is a daughter and a sister and a friend and blah blah blah and at the same time blaming all of my feelings on it.
So intensive adolescent OCD and anxiety-related issue therapy programs in mental hospitals across the United States are now on the treatment table. This means, in short, that sometime, just as soon as I can clear a month or two from my schedule, there is a chance I will be going away for a while. I don't even know what my opinion on that is. You know how sometimes you get cabin fever, and you just want to run away for a while and put your all your local shit away and leave with only yourself? I found a place for this, I think.
Right now my most selfish wish is for everyone who slogged through the reading of this to rush to my aid and just tell me it's all going to be okay. Even if it's not.
This is how I've been thinking. Why are we trained to not believe this baggage stuff? I mean teens are explaining their feelings to friends, parents, therapists better, using ideas from movies and TV. So it feels fake. It's flipping not. Or is it? I don't know. I don't know what I want. I don't know what anyone wants.
So now to my baggage. If I promised not to talk about the OCD ever again after the one time, I lied. I have been advised to not tell people and that's complete bull. I need to tell somebody, especially the few who read this, because we're all "bat-shit insane" anyway and at least we know it. Okay, so I'll operate under the assumption that OCD people aren't crazy! It's true, honestly. I'm not crazy. I sure as hell feel like it most days though.
I'm pretty sure I had a nervous breakdown but I can't find a definition so I can't label it. I don't know whether or not I can blame the medication, and with the statistics that health professionals spout out it looks less likely. Let's just say my OCD is a lot worse than I've been telling myself. A LOT worse than most of you see. If my feelings from Monday night had happened at a different time, like during the day in public, I would undoubtedly have been placed in a mental hospital. I hate how the one doctor is telling me that OCD is just a small part of "Jodie", who is a daughter and a sister and a friend and blah blah blah and at the same time blaming all of my feelings on it.
So intensive adolescent OCD and anxiety-related issue therapy programs in mental hospitals across the United States are now on the treatment table. This means, in short, that sometime, just as soon as I can clear a month or two from my schedule, there is a chance I will be going away for a while. I don't even know what my opinion on that is. You know how sometimes you get cabin fever, and you just want to run away for a while and put your all your local shit away and leave with only yourself? I found a place for this, I think.
Right now my most selfish wish is for everyone who slogged through the reading of this to rush to my aid and just tell me it's all going to be okay. Even if it's not.
enragedJuly 13th, 2006
June 29th, 2006
I've been pulling apart like a piece of taffy. It's dumb, I know. I am regressing. I have been emotionally aging in reverse since the day I was born. Sadly, this is because I get happier every day. I am less cynical and more easygoing every day. I also read less, care less, and act less mature each and every day. I am not growing up, I am growing down. And this is not irrationality, this is something I have known for a very very long time.
Why is it this way? Why does it seem to be give and take, happiness versus rationality/maturity? Why can't I have my cake and eat it, too? Maybe this past year was the happiest year of my life because I had one year to emotionally level with people around my age range. And now, I am slipping...I've been lazy. I'm not superior anymore intellectually, in areas I used to take for granted, I am no longer the best.
This Jodie is not the Jodie I remember. She's insecure about everything she used to be okay with, and okay about things she shouldn't be...I have been flipped upside down. I am finally the obnoxious, self-centered, angsty, whiny adolescent that I have always been expected to be. I can't even keep up appearances and be the WASP I'm supposed to be anymore.
Why is it this way? Why does it seem to be give and take, happiness versus rationality/maturity? Why can't I have my cake and eat it, too? Maybe this past year was the happiest year of my life because I had one year to emotionally level with people around my age range. And now, I am slipping...I've been lazy. I'm not superior anymore intellectually, in areas I used to take for granted, I am no longer the best.
This Jodie is not the Jodie I remember. She's insecure about everything she used to be okay with, and okay about things she shouldn't be...I have been flipped upside down. I am finally the obnoxious, self-centered, angsty, whiny adolescent that I have always been expected to be. I can't even keep up appearances and be the WASP I'm supposed to be anymore.
blahJune 27th, 2006
I am not fully, but partially freaking out. Scared semi-shitless. If you haven't heard about Chris Lang's mom...she was only fifty-five. (My father is fifty-one.) She was a nurse, and in fourth grade she came into our class to talk about helmet safety. Chris says they don't have any more room in the house for food.
I'm low again. Afraid to write, afraid to think. I didn't know her well enough to be freaking out like this, but I'm so worried about Chris. And shamefully, myself. I don't want these thoughts to surface again, just as I revealed my worst fears to someone. But now you might as well all know them.
1. I am terrified that everything bad that anyone ever said about me and every negative perception I have of myself is not irrational, but the truth, and happier days are the product of an inflated ego.
2. I have had the feeling, since I was very small, that I'm going to die prematurely. Thinking about the planned future, whether it's a week or a decade, seems like a fantasy that I know will never happen.
3. I am afraid that I am not going to be there for people, that I'm going to seal my own fate like Ebenezer Scrooge. Or that something else, one of those bitchy-girl-group-eviction things will happen for me again.
Or just that things won't work out. That nothing is ever going to go right, in my eyes at least. Like my late grandmother, who was just never satisfied.
I'm low again. Afraid to write, afraid to think. I didn't know her well enough to be freaking out like this, but I'm so worried about Chris. And shamefully, myself. I don't want these thoughts to surface again, just as I revealed my worst fears to someone. But now you might as well all know them.
1. I am terrified that everything bad that anyone ever said about me and every negative perception I have of myself is not irrational, but the truth, and happier days are the product of an inflated ego.
2. I have had the feeling, since I was very small, that I'm going to die prematurely. Thinking about the planned future, whether it's a week or a decade, seems like a fantasy that I know will never happen.
3. I am afraid that I am not going to be there for people, that I'm going to seal my own fate like Ebenezer Scrooge. Or that something else, one of those bitchy-girl-group-eviction things will happen for me again.
Or just that things won't work out. That nothing is ever going to go right, in my eyes at least. Like my late grandmother, who was just never satisfied.
gloomyJune 21st, 2006
Ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly.
uglyJune 20th, 2006
I was bored. I put the site in Esperanto. I suggest you do the same.
My mantra. Honesty honesty honesty. Honestly, it's worrying me. You'd think it would solve everything. Well, I would think that. But I've found some stuff out, about some people. One guy is lying and cheating and the longtime g/f is so blissfully unaware. One guy told the truth about something not so stellar...perhaps too forcefully, and he broke a heart. Is there such a thing as being too honest? If you're cheating (whether a lot or a little), do you really love the person? If you tell them the truth about something you know they won't want to hear, are you really doing them a favor?
I think I'll try defying gravity. I have to get away from this.
My mantra. Honesty honesty honesty. Honestly, it's worrying me. You'd think it would solve everything. Well, I would think that. But I've found some stuff out, about some people. One guy is lying and cheating and the longtime g/f is so blissfully unaware. One guy told the truth about something not so stellar...perhaps too forcefully, and he broke a heart. Is there such a thing as being too honest? If you're cheating (whether a lot or a little), do you really love the person? If you tell them the truth about something you know they won't want to hear, are you really doing them a favor?
I think I'll try defying gravity. I have to get away from this.
June 17th, 2006
1: Phys. Ed.
2: Spanish III (105)
3: H. Chem. (717)
4: H. Precalc. (620)
5: H. English (809)
6: Lunch
7: Band
8: AP History (815)
Tell me if we have classes together!!! (Of course, this is still tentative so we can't get our hopes up, whatever whatever)
2: Spanish III (105)
3: H. Chem. (717)
4: H. Precalc. (620)
5: H. English (809)
6: Lunch
7: Band
8: AP History (815)
Tell me if we have classes together!!! (Of course, this is still tentative so we can't get our hopes up, whatever whatever)
June 11th, 2006
If there's a prize for rotten judgment
I guess I've already won that
No man is worth the aggravation
That's ancient history-been there, done that
Every sentence I write looks ugly to me. I finally got some sleep, after filming for this little indie movie that was really fun this morning. I just wanted to grab the male lead and wash his hair vigorously because he was criminally good looking but his hair was gelled insanely, and not for the character's sake.
I'm juggling two groups of friends right now, and it's really difficult. I try to see everyone every weekend, but it's complicated. Oh well. At least I have friends these days. Maybe it's so difficult for me because it's a newer concept. I'm just paralyzed by the fear that I'm going to screw something up again. Every day, I remind myself that I'm New Jodie, New Jodie, New Jodie. There's nothing I'm more afraid of than becoming my old self. Feeling betrayed, social criticism, that all gives me flashbacks, tremors, making it worse than it already was.
Right now, the way I look at life is up for grabs. I don't know what's really me anymore, and what's the medicine, and what's okay and not okay (and this is inside my body and also socially). I realized how stupid it is to follow the advice of people with absolutely no experience. Movies have generally fucked up how any average kid looks at romance, and life in general. It's so different when the drama is in your own life. It's not juicy, it just sucks. The last thing I want to have to do is make a New New Jodie, running from another fifty thousand embarrassing mistakes. It's not about pleasing other people. It's about pleasing myself.
That's one thing I've never done.
I guess I've already won that
No man is worth the aggravation
That's ancient history-been there, done that
Every sentence I write looks ugly to me. I finally got some sleep, after filming for this little indie movie that was really fun this morning. I just wanted to grab the male lead and wash his hair vigorously because he was criminally good looking but his hair was gelled insanely, and not for the character's sake.
I'm juggling two groups of friends right now, and it's really difficult. I try to see everyone every weekend, but it's complicated. Oh well. At least I have friends these days. Maybe it's so difficult for me because it's a newer concept. I'm just paralyzed by the fear that I'm going to screw something up again. Every day, I remind myself that I'm New Jodie, New Jodie, New Jodie. There's nothing I'm more afraid of than becoming my old self. Feeling betrayed, social criticism, that all gives me flashbacks, tremors, making it worse than it already was.
Right now, the way I look at life is up for grabs. I don't know what's really me anymore, and what's the medicine, and what's okay and not okay (and this is inside my body and also socially). I realized how stupid it is to follow the advice of people with absolutely no experience. Movies have generally fucked up how any average kid looks at romance, and life in general. It's so different when the drama is in your own life. It's not juicy, it just sucks. The last thing I want to have to do is make a New New Jodie, running from another fifty thousand embarrassing mistakes. It's not about pleasing other people. It's about pleasing myself.
That's one thing I've never done.
May 31st, 2006
Well I (am) in study hall, pissed off at myself for my lack of discipline and forgetfulness. I guess I can blame a bit of it on the weighty concepts that have been occupying my mind for several days, in the place of swimmerets, water vascular systems, and nephridia (and failed biology tests). So maybe I should try to lose some mental weight.
I've been thinking about some stuff lately. A lot of casual allusions are essentially making me rethink who I am and what I'm about. Wow, that was vague. Is there some gene for "good girl"? My bet is that it's recessive--it seems to be fading away from me. Until recently, there two issues that I have been considering would have merited a knee-jerk response. Drinking? No way! Sex? Eww...
Wait. That's what I'm supposed to say. To quote Tom, "Those things...are bad." But are they, really? Aren't they privileges/rights that we're going to grow into, if we really haven't already, at least in the eyes of the law? Sex is a really grey area (like what's the age of consent, anyway?) but drinking is straightforwardly impractical. Why, the day I turn 21 (December 10, 2011), am I going to be more fit to do a Jello-shot than I was just one day before? Legal ages for things are referencing the average person. And I'm anything but average. *wink*
I am not going to write a persuasive essay here on why the drinking age should be lowered (even though I think it should be, surely not to fifteen). I know kids that started drinking at 12. Do I want to, really? Chsmelsea and I realized that my first time will be under her supervision. But when is that? Learning my limits in a safer environment than some frat party in a few years might actually be the best idea.
This brings me to sex and all things preceding and following. Some girls choose to lose it earlier, again following the more-meaningful-and-safer-than-with-rand
Before, it was not even a question because I was certain I'd marry my soulmate. What if I don't? What if sadly, like in too many marriages, things end in divorce? Then I would hopefully meet someone else, and what then? That makes me look at things a little differently. Maybe I just want to give it to someone I care about when it feels right, whenever that may be. That goes for everything preceding, pretty much. How will I know, how will I know, how will I know, though. Do I trust my intuition? After wasting the first kisses of my life, I do want things with more meaning, at least I agree with myself about that. At least some of the time.
This scares me and makes me feel a little guilty, because of my damn religion. I consider myself a salad-bar Catholic, which is actually nothing to be proud of, either. As I mentioned to someone recently, being raised Catholic gives you a lot of reason to be mad at the church. Now I'm mad because this faith, that I don't officially consider myself a part of anymore, is calling into question the lessons I learn growing up. Does that mean it's against human nature? That's good or bad, depending on which Enlightenment philosopher you agree with.
In PSR one time, we were given a list of sins to "rank" in order of "sinfulness" or something (?!!?!??). And well, I put "going too far with physical intimacy" as number one (last year). But I don't know how far is too far, and I don't know who owns my soul right now.
I've been thinking about some stuff lately. A lot of casual allusions are essentially making me rethink who I am and what I'm about. Wow, that was vague. Is there some gene for "good girl"? My bet is that it's recessive--it seems to be fading away from me. Until recently, there two issues that I have been considering would have merited a knee-jerk response. Drinking? No way! Sex? Eww...
Wait. That's what I'm supposed to say. To quote Tom, "Those things...are bad." But are they, really? Aren't they privileges/rights that we're going to grow into, if we really haven't already, at least in the eyes of the law? Sex is a really grey area (like what's the age of consent, anyway?) but drinking is straightforwardly impractical. Why, the day I turn 21 (December 10, 2011), am I going to be more fit to do a Jello-shot than I was just one day before? Legal ages for things are referencing the average person. And I'm anything but average. *wink*
I am not going to write a persuasive essay here on why the drinking age should be lowered (even though I think it should be, surely not to fifteen). I know kids that started drinking at 12. Do I want to, really? Chsmelsea and I realized that my first time will be under her supervision. But when is that? Learning my limits in a safer environment than some frat party in a few years might actually be the best idea.
This brings me to sex and all things preceding and following. Some girls choose to lose it earlier, again following the more-meaningful-and-safer-than-with-rand
Before, it was not even a question because I was certain I'd marry my soulmate. What if I don't? What if sadly, like in too many marriages, things end in divorce? Then I would hopefully meet someone else, and what then? That makes me look at things a little differently. Maybe I just want to give it to someone I care about when it feels right, whenever that may be. That goes for everything preceding, pretty much. How will I know, how will I know, how will I know, though. Do I trust my intuition? After wasting the first kisses of my life, I do want things with more meaning, at least I agree with myself about that. At least some of the time.
This scares me and makes me feel a little guilty, because of my damn religion. I consider myself a salad-bar Catholic, which is actually nothing to be proud of, either. As I mentioned to someone recently, being raised Catholic gives you a lot of reason to be mad at the church. Now I'm mad because this faith, that I don't officially consider myself a part of anymore, is calling into question the lessons I learn growing up. Does that mean it's against human nature? That's good or bad, depending on which Enlightenment philosopher you agree with.
In PSR one time, we were given a list of sins to "rank" in order of "sinfulness" or something (?!!?!??). And well, I put "going too far with physical intimacy" as number one (last year). But I don't know how far is too far, and I don't know who owns my soul right now.
curiousMay 28th, 2006
I knew Thursday was going to be insane. The "sanest" people I saw, though, were seniors. Kacey, Katie, and Kristin seemed almost apathetic. I was probably the craziest person I dealt with, actually. And then the senior wills came out, so cute. I have been left unfinished Panera sandwiches, Team Nool and Jojo's bathtub, 56 (or maybe just 6) more proms, more plays and musicals, and of course, the space next to Kacey's seat in study hall.
Without you, the hand gropes
The ear hears, the pulse beats
Life goes on, but I'm gone
Cuz I die without you
I'm just emotionally evaporated, after my appointment with a team of doctors henceforth known as Nadia and Dr. Quinn, medicine woman. Who knew there was so much to think about, just sitting there when in the next room, there's a team of people talking about you? I could have done anything in that waiting room and no one would have batted an eye--I was sitting in the psych ward.
I'm scared about the meds. I thought I wanted them, and I do, but then where am I? Are they going to medicate me into the median...are they going to make me lose myself? Will I be able to write the same way? Am I going to "activate" like they say I might, and start fidgeting all the time?
The scary part is knowing after all this time that...listen, I'm going to say this once and only once. This xanga is not going to change, as far as I hope. I have been officially diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, which is something I've known I had for as long as I can remember. Now my parents believe me...I think.
Years of yearning to get rid of it and here's my chance. Why am I getting cold feet now? I thought I would be happy when this day finally came. But I'm absolutely terrified. What is my personality if not quirky, if not crazy? What am I, if not an over thinker? The incoming freshmen for drama club next year...who are they going to meet?
An omen? After the dam in my eyes burst for a minute, the tears that fell came down fast, and symmetrically.
Without you, the hand gropes
The ear hears, the pulse beats
Life goes on, but I'm gone
Cuz I die without you
I'm just emotionally evaporated, after my appointment with a team of doctors henceforth known as Nadia and Dr. Quinn, medicine woman. Who knew there was so much to think about, just sitting there when in the next room, there's a team of people talking about you? I could have done anything in that waiting room and no one would have batted an eye--I was sitting in the psych ward.
I'm scared about the meds. I thought I wanted them, and I do, but then where am I? Are they going to medicate me into the median...are they going to make me lose myself? Will I be able to write the same way? Am I going to "activate" like they say I might, and start fidgeting all the time?
The scary part is knowing after all this time that...listen, I'm going to say this once and only once. This xanga is not going to change, as far as I hope. I have been officially diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, which is something I've known I had for as long as I can remember. Now my parents believe me...I think.
Years of yearning to get rid of it and here's my chance. Why am I getting cold feet now? I thought I would be happy when this day finally came. But I'm absolutely terrified. What is my personality if not quirky, if not crazy? What am I, if not an over thinker? The incoming freshmen for drama club next year...who are they going to meet?
An omen? After the dam in my eyes burst for a minute, the tears that fell came down fast, and symmetrically.
quixoticMay 16th, 2006
My life has changed. I don't know if I want to keep this livejournal anymore: it says "cheer" in the username. Yeah, I did not make JV Basketball cheerleading as was one of my new year's resolutions. It's my own fault, I got cocky, I was not loud enough or whatever...I'm going to lie and say I'm over it, when it will not hit me until I see certain people wearing their uniforms at school next year.
This time of year is when we set ourselves up for the next year, auditioning, interviewing, applying for things and it's never failed to surprise me. Today, I was denied my rightful membership in the International Thespian Society and then elected Vice President of Young Democrats. Maybe they balance each other out? Seriously, who knows what tomorrow will bring? As long as I don't break my nose trying to learn to toss a flag, bring it on!!
That part of my life just disappeared. Well, once I boxed up all my memories it did. And after I cried my face off at Casey's house. And I'm no longer the star of certain guys' sexual fantasies, I guess. I don't get to enjoy my skin tone and lack of butt discussed in the locker room weekly, oh how sad.
Still, I'm really not having my optimal success rate right now. Everybody got cast in that dating violence thing except for me--I'm on the "advisory board" or some other bullshit. I sent the letter to the Optimists! I also lost all my notecards for debate, which I stayed up until 2 doing. I fell asleep in three classes today. I've been a "good sport" to all the new cheer squad girls and I make my own skin crawl.
Friday was an abyss, today a corkscrew...when am I going to have one fully uphill day?
This time of year is when we set ourselves up for the next year, auditioning, interviewing, applying for things and it's never failed to surprise me. Today, I was denied my rightful membership in the International Thespian Society and then elected Vice President of Young Democrats. Maybe they balance each other out? Seriously, who knows what tomorrow will bring? As long as I don't break my nose trying to learn to toss a flag, bring it on!!
That part of my life just disappeared. Well, once I boxed up all my memories it did. And after I cried my face off at Casey's house. And I'm no longer the star of certain guys' sexual fantasies, I guess. I don't get to enjoy my skin tone and lack of butt discussed in the locker room weekly, oh how sad.
Still, I'm really not having my optimal success rate right now. Everybody got cast in that dating violence thing except for me--I'm on the "advisory board" or some other bullshit. I sent the letter to the Optimists! I also lost all my notecards for debate, which I stayed up until 2 doing. I fell asleep in three classes today. I've been a "good sport" to all the new cheer squad girls and I make my own skin crawl.
Friday was an abyss, today a corkscrew...when am I going to have one fully uphill day?
May 7th, 2006
Up where they walk, up where they run
Up where they stay all the day in the sun
Wandering free, wish I could be
Part of that world
So Prom was Friday. If you want pictures, check out my myspace. Actually, I encourage this so you can see pictures of my dress, which befits the theme of this entry. Lately, I've been feeling like a mermaid, caught between two worlds.
I'm not sure how to say this exactly, but I know that I can be more frank here than on my new xanga because Justin and Co. might read that. I wonder how different my life would be if I had been in band. Would I be better friends with the Marcos/Connoll crew? Or would I now feel actually within the group I went to prom with? There's no way of knowing now, and even to think about next year...Justin and Co. aren't going to be around.
I really have no way to know what they're going through now, seniors facing saying goodbye to Strongsville City Schools and to each other forever. I don't know why Erin didn't think I would have Justin's phone number. I wonder if they just saw me as a rent-a-date, Kacey's little sidekick. And I wonder if I was. At times, I felt like it. I know you can't be a "fourth" wheel, but that's what I felt like, sitting at dinner, on the outside of the jokes.
I wish I could draw a graph of the evening, because it was quite a curve. The peak was in the middle of the evening on the dance floor. I guess, anyway. I had TONS of fun, I really thought I did, but the more I deconstruct it in my mind, the more "WTF was I thinking?" moments come to mind. Things about dancing and kissing and not liking my hair and other girls' dates being hot and people saying mine was acting oddly and...
I never said I wanted someone to disillusion me. Disenchant me. Undeceive me.
*UPDATE* Other side of the pillow, yo.
Up where they stay all the day in the sun
Wandering free, wish I could be
Part of that world
So Prom was Friday. If you want pictures, check out my myspace. Actually, I encourage this so you can see pictures of my dress, which befits the theme of this entry. Lately, I've been feeling like a mermaid, caught between two worlds.
I'm not sure how to say this exactly, but I know that I can be more frank here than on my new xanga because Justin and Co. might read that. I wonder how different my life would be if I had been in band. Would I be better friends with the Marcos/Connoll crew? Or would I now feel actually within the group I went to prom with? There's no way of knowing now, and even to think about next year...Justin and Co. aren't going to be around.
I really have no way to know what they're going through now, seniors facing saying goodbye to Strongsville City Schools and to each other forever. I don't know why Erin didn't think I would have Justin's phone number. I wonder if they just saw me as a rent-a-date, Kacey's little sidekick. And I wonder if I was. At times, I felt like it. I know you can't be a "fourth" wheel, but that's what I felt like, sitting at dinner, on the outside of the jokes.
I wish I could draw a graph of the evening, because it was quite a curve. The peak was in the middle of the evening on the dance floor. I guess, anyway. I had TONS of fun, I really thought I did, but the more I deconstruct it in my mind, the more "WTF was I thinking?" moments come to mind. Things about dancing and kissing and not liking my hair and other girls' dates being hot and people saying mine was acting oddly and...
I never said I wanted someone to disillusion me. Disenchant me. Undeceive me.
*UPDATE* Other side of the pillow, yo.
April 29th, 2006
What happens in the bouncehouse...
...stays in the bouncehouse.
Until the next bouncehouse.
...stays in the bouncehouse.
Until the next bouncehouse.
April 19th, 2006
The Milano cookies have possessed me, and here is what they want me to write.
1. So I personally believe that God created humanity, all right, all right. Just throwing that out there, because what I'm thinking about right now is how sooo many people like ice cream. Did God intend for us to like ice cream? Why do people magically conform to having a favorite ice cream flavor, a favorite color...what if the favorite flavor you were born to have, with your unique taste buds, doesn't exist yet?
2. Something else I have been thinking of for a long time, thinking I was somewhat unique, but I guess that I'm really not: so is what I think of the color red, is that exactly the same thing you see too? We both might describe a taste, a scent, even a feeling the same way...how do we know that it is? The colors you see in your mind might be colors my brain could never fathom. Every adjective could mean something different to you than it does to me, but we see the world relating to itself the same way, so relatively, we can both categorize something one way but it's completely different?
3. I wasn't originally going to put this in, but I've been thinking about this one too: ESP and related "psychic" activity. I'm not asking if you believe in it, okay? Assume it exists. Now is this something from primitive man, something they had because they had no spoken communication? Or is this a newer evolving characteristic in humans?
4. I know, I've been thinking of weird things. I've come down from the initial chocolate high I had, when I started writing this, so I'm thinking semi-practically now. And I'd love it if you guys didn't make all the comments about gay marriage or one little detail. Look at the whole picture. Or just duke it out about whether "Green Eggs and Ham" means the ham is green as well.
1. So I personally believe that God created humanity, all right, all right. Just throwing that out there, because what I'm thinking about right now is how sooo many people like ice cream. Did God intend for us to like ice cream? Why do people magically conform to having a favorite ice cream flavor, a favorite color...what if the favorite flavor you were born to have, with your unique taste buds, doesn't exist yet?
2. Something else I have been thinking of for a long time, thinking I was somewhat unique, but I guess that I'm really not: so is what I think of the color red, is that exactly the same thing you see too? We both might describe a taste, a scent, even a feeling the same way...how do we know that it is? The colors you see in your mind might be colors my brain could never fathom. Every adjective could mean something different to you than it does to me, but we see the world relating to itself the same way, so relatively, we can both categorize something one way but it's completely different?
3. I wasn't originally going to put this in, but I've been thinking about this one too: ESP and related "psychic" activity. I'm not asking if you believe in it, okay? Assume it exists. Now is this something from primitive man, something they had because they had no spoken communication? Or is this a newer evolving characteristic in humans?
4. I know, I've been thinking of weird things. I've come down from the initial chocolate high I had, when I started writing this, so I'm thinking semi-practically now. And I'd love it if you guys didn't make all the comments about gay marriage or one little detail. Look at the whole picture. Or just duke it out about whether "Green Eggs and Ham" means the ham is green as well.
bouncyApril 14th, 2006
This is a dream that I had over the summer. I suggest you just skim it because A. it's flipping long, and B. it may give you nightmares of your own.
My friends are in this building, working for the government along with a lot of adults. Then it becomes like the food court at the mall. The agents are told that there are three Middle Eastern families in the food court and Sarah, Joe, and Raj are each to follow one of them. One family is going to set off something called a "cotton" bomb. It is determined that it is the family joe is watching and they find out we know, so they make a break for it and try to stuff the bomb in a trash can. Lindy and I fight them and they put it in the trash can. The trash can turns out to be a chimney so they send the bomb up the chimney. It explodes over what turns out is my house. Turns out it is a biological weapon, in a way.
Lindy and I run outside to my neighbor's house, and at the same time Natalie and Verity are running around with a giant wedding cake. Somehow we all make it back to my house which looks like the first building. The adults tell us we should have stayed inside. Then my old cheerleading coach checks everyone for this disease. You can tell if someone has the disease because supposedly you have 12 spots on your tongue and 10 are red and two are green. However, if you have the disease they are all green. Everybody is safe except for my neighbor and the girl from cheerleading. The adults tell them that they need a shot and throw them out the window. They are shot and buried by the FBI agents in a makeshift graveyard. I keep thinking that i must have the disease because I went outside. I had them check me again and yes, it turns out I did but they don't shoot me. I mope around crying, and then we're all, for some reason, in Albion's gym, watching an assembly. They start calling kids from specific buses up to be checked again by the doctor. They call Lexi, Cohara, and Walick up and they all go up into this tent thing between the bleachers. They don't return but I know Lexi at least was okay. My mom's friend appears where Lexi was sitting and she tells me my bus was called up.
The guy checks my tongue and tells me I don't eat seafood (though I actually do) but also that I don't have the disease. Suddenly, we all are in the front yard of the White House, which actually looks like Sarah's backyard. We are trying to protect the President's daughter--Reema. These kids attack us but only one of them has a gun and the others have tennis rackets. They grab Raj, Jarrod, and six Smurfs and hold them hostage in the middle of the yard. We're all running around hiding behind trees with a bunch of Secret Service agents so they chase us into one corner of the yard and their commander starts making fun of us. Then Sarah asked them "Why did you do this?" and the girl says "Oh, because we're here from Colorado on our DC trip" and then Raj, Jarrod, and the Smurfs break out. Raj hands me this giant blue lunchbox and I start beating the colorado kids with it. Then Raven-Symone shows up with a machine gun and then the Colorado kid who has a gun drops his gun at my feet. We go around shooting the kids but they don't die.
Then I woke up. No, I didn't write that all from memory just now, I wrote in back in July. Here's my dream from last night, which I actually remember in considerably less detail than that last one.
It was either at the beginning or the end that I was in the mall, again, this time for a much more enjoyable purpose. I was shopping, of course, but I don't know what for exactly. My quasi-romantic-interest (from the dream, at least) was with me, and so was a female friend of his that I don't actually personally know. She was wearing a Homecoming-style dress that was peachy orange and sparkly. Mine was fuchsia charmeuse, and I looked very hot if I do say so myself. She went in to try something on and Mr. QRI went with her, which visibly shocked me, but everyone else, the people in line and some women that reminded me of "Fiddler on the Roof", were totally okay with it. I just remember being like "How is this okay? What does this mean?", which is think is a statement about my naivety and gullibility. But this time I stood up for myself somewhat, and I checked their feet under the dressing room door and they were totally close, kissing or something, just like I had guessed. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and I just took off, running in my gorgeous fuchsia dress, I don't know where, and feeling like a stupid Bond girl.
Next thing I knew, I was in a building that was about to burn down or collapse or something. But it was only the center of each floor. I was running around from floor to floor, trying to save people by getting them out of the center. This actually reminded me the most of a Star Trek movie when the ship was about to separate and they all had to crowd onto one half of it, otherwise die. Everyone kept insisting on running back in and out, and some of them I couldn't stop. The scene kept switching to technicians working on a spaceship, on something that looked like a giant contact lens, to prevent the collapse of the building from occurring. But they failed. The implosion of the building killed like 80 people, including a Strongsville choir girl.
Back to the mall. There are people sitting in the center court, playing chess. The girl's friend is there, and I try to reassure her but it seems like she's okay. My mom is there, and she doesn't know anything that just happened, and she doesn't believe me.
Thinking about the dressing room thing, I still feel like I was punched in the stomach. It feels so real, which is one the oddest things I've ever felt because Mr. QRI doesn't completely exist.
Some different lyrics that fit my mood:
Lonely the life that once I led
Strange the paths on which we tread
Let me tell you, unlikely but true...
Sabra girl clouding my view
and
You got something that you wanted to sell
Sell yourself, just cash in
You got something that you wanted to tell
You love me, wait and see
My friends are in this building, working for the government along with a lot of adults. Then it becomes like the food court at the mall. The agents are told that there are three Middle Eastern families in the food court and Sarah, Joe, and Raj are each to follow one of them. One family is going to set off something called a "cotton" bomb. It is determined that it is the family joe is watching and they find out we know, so they make a break for it and try to stuff the bomb in a trash can. Lindy and I fight them and they put it in the trash can. The trash can turns out to be a chimney so they send the bomb up the chimney. It explodes over what turns out is my house. Turns out it is a biological weapon, in a way.
Lindy and I run outside to my neighbor's house, and at the same time Natalie and Verity are running around with a giant wedding cake. Somehow we all make it back to my house which looks like the first building. The adults tell us we should have stayed inside. Then my old cheerleading coach checks everyone for this disease. You can tell if someone has the disease because supposedly you have 12 spots on your tongue and 10 are red and two are green. However, if you have the disease they are all green. Everybody is safe except for my neighbor and the girl from cheerleading. The adults tell them that they need a shot and throw them out the window. They are shot and buried by the FBI agents in a makeshift graveyard. I keep thinking that i must have the disease because I went outside. I had them check me again and yes, it turns out I did but they don't shoot me. I mope around crying, and then we're all, for some reason, in Albion's gym, watching an assembly. They start calling kids from specific buses up to be checked again by the doctor. They call Lexi, Cohara, and Walick up and they all go up into this tent thing between the bleachers. They don't return but I know Lexi at least was okay. My mom's friend appears where Lexi was sitting and she tells me my bus was called up.
The guy checks my tongue and tells me I don't eat seafood (though I actually do) but also that I don't have the disease. Suddenly, we all are in the front yard of the White House, which actually looks like Sarah's backyard. We are trying to protect the President's daughter--Reema. These kids attack us but only one of them has a gun and the others have tennis rackets. They grab Raj, Jarrod, and six Smurfs and hold them hostage in the middle of the yard. We're all running around hiding behind trees with a bunch of Secret Service agents so they chase us into one corner of the yard and their commander starts making fun of us. Then Sarah asked them "Why did you do this?" and the girl says "Oh, because we're here from Colorado on our DC trip" and then Raj, Jarrod, and the Smurfs break out. Raj hands me this giant blue lunchbox and I start beating the colorado kids with it. Then Raven-Symone shows up with a machine gun and then the Colorado kid who has a gun drops his gun at my feet. We go around shooting the kids but they don't die.
Then I woke up. No, I didn't write that all from memory just now, I wrote in back in July. Here's my dream from last night, which I actually remember in considerably less detail than that last one.
It was either at the beginning or the end that I was in the mall, again, this time for a much more enjoyable purpose. I was shopping, of course, but I don't know what for exactly. My quasi-romantic-interest (from the dream, at least) was with me, and so was a female friend of his that I don't actually personally know. She was wearing a Homecoming-style dress that was peachy orange and sparkly. Mine was fuchsia charmeuse, and I looked very hot if I do say so myself. She went in to try something on and Mr. QRI went with her, which visibly shocked me, but everyone else, the people in line and some women that reminded me of "Fiddler on the Roof", were totally okay with it. I just remember being like "How is this okay? What does this mean?", which is think is a statement about my naivety and gullibility. But this time I stood up for myself somewhat, and I checked their feet under the dressing room door and they were totally close, kissing or something, just like I had guessed. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and I just took off, running in my gorgeous fuchsia dress, I don't know where, and feeling like a stupid Bond girl.
Next thing I knew, I was in a building that was about to burn down or collapse or something. But it was only the center of each floor. I was running around from floor to floor, trying to save people by getting them out of the center. This actually reminded me the most of a Star Trek movie when the ship was about to separate and they all had to crowd onto one half of it, otherwise die. Everyone kept insisting on running back in and out, and some of them I couldn't stop. The scene kept switching to technicians working on a spaceship, on something that looked like a giant contact lens, to prevent the collapse of the building from occurring. But they failed. The implosion of the building killed like 80 people, including a Strongsville choir girl.
Back to the mall. There are people sitting in the center court, playing chess. The girl's friend is there, and I try to reassure her but it seems like she's okay. My mom is there, and she doesn't know anything that just happened, and she doesn't believe me.
Thinking about the dressing room thing, I still feel like I was punched in the stomach. It feels so real, which is one the oddest things I've ever felt because Mr. QRI doesn't completely exist.
Some different lyrics that fit my mood:
Lonely the life that once I led
Strange the paths on which we tread
Let me tell you, unlikely but true...
Sabra girl clouding my view
and
You got something that you wanted to sell
Sell yourself, just cash in
You got something that you wanted to tell
You love me, wait and see
April 11th, 2006
I asked someone what the craziest thing they ever did was. Good story. And then I tried to think of mine.
I ALMOST got suspended on three separate occasions...for three not-so-crazy things.
I ALMOST delivered that special speech to the Optimists.
I ALMOST went to Rocky Horror last year when I wasn't allowed.
That night running around with Aaron, Lex, Sarah, and McCoy, accidentally ending up in a cemetary
Carrying meat around in Giant Eagle and trying to look disturbed
Yelling at several 250 pound guys to GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME
Poetry Club cookout in the snow!!
And of course you all heard several HIGHLY exaggerated rumors from last yearrrrr...
Whoop-dee-doo, right? So what did I come up with?
And I threw an egg at someone's house and TOTALLY missed. Oh, and one time I threw an M&M at a guy's head during "How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days" in like sixth grade and met (dunh dunh dunh) the PSYCHO BOYFRIEND!!!
Now I know this won't happen with you guys, but most of the time, that gets a snicker. From those kah-razy suburban kids, ya know? "That's IT? Well on New Year's Eve..." and so on. I was going to make this entry about how I have stayed on the safe side, or whatever. But I'm okay with being my own unique kind of crazy, and those of you who saw me playing with my make-believe periscope this morning will probably know what I mean. So again, I'm hanging up the keyboard before I become a hypocrite.
armistice, my homies
I ALMOST got suspended on three separate occasions...for three not-so-crazy things.
I ALMOST delivered that special speech to the Optimists.
I ALMOST went to Rocky Horror last year when I wasn't allowed.
That night running around with Aaron, Lex, Sarah, and McCoy, accidentally ending up in a cemetary
Carrying meat around in Giant Eagle and trying to look disturbed
Yelling at several 250 pound guys to GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME
Poetry Club cookout in the snow!!
And of course you all heard several HIGHLY exaggerated rumors from last yearrrrr...
Whoop-dee-doo, right? So what did I come up with?
And I threw an egg at someone's house and TOTALLY missed. Oh, and one time I threw an M&M at a guy's head during "How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days" in like sixth grade and met (dunh dunh dunh) the PSYCHO BOYFRIEND!!!
Now I know this won't happen with you guys, but most of the time, that gets a snicker. From those kah-razy suburban kids, ya know? "That's IT? Well on New Year's Eve..." and so on. I was going to make this entry about how I have stayed on the safe side, or whatever. But I'm okay with being my own unique kind of crazy, and those of you who saw me playing with my make-believe periscope this morning will probably know what I mean. So again, I'm hanging up the keyboard before I become a hypocrite.
armistice, my homies