Coffee Break

The Past 48 Hours.

2009-08-04T20:30:00.003-05:00

First off, I'd like to apologize for the lack of consistency in moods from post to post.

Second, you should all know that MY FAMILY KICKS YOUR FAMILY'S ASS.

They are awesome. Sure sure, my last blog was about how much I could NOT stand my mother's almost hysterical self, but i have come to realize that she loves me loads and loads more than I thought she did.

Not that I didn't know she loved me. But I couldn't have imagined the extent to which she does.

Daddy too.

This college thing is a megabijillion times harder on them than I thought it was.

Having spent the past two whole days with them, I now see the little things they do that gives away just how much the will miss when in (let's count...) 23 days. In that amount of time, they plan on feeding me all the best dishes I've ever been fed at home, making sure I get more than enough rest (I've only been fully awake for about five hours today...it's 8:40 PM), and letting me do whatever makes me happy.

Even if it means that less time will be spent with them.

SAD FACE.

Yesterday, Daddy and I talked about anything and (almost) everything for more than two hours. Mommy and I chit chatted about this coming fall until one of us (her, of course) fell asleep. Most 18-year-olds would have thought that was a semi-pathetic way to spend one of very few limited days of summer, but it seemed almost...necessary.

Oh, not to mention that I re-realized my love of Mickey D's grilled Chipotle BBQ snack wrap.

YUM.

Last Time I Checked...

2009-08-03T15:48:00.003-05:00

...which was very recent, I was the one leaving for college in less than four weeks.

NOT my mother.

Anywho, the point is that I should be the one shopping for Twin XL sheets, I should be the one running around the house looking for things we already have that I need, I should be picking and choosing.

NOT my mother.

Yes, I understand that she's just trying to help and probably already misses me. But really. Come on...who's the one going off the college?

ME.

Despite that fact, she has filled two laundry baskets full of dorm supplies, bought a comforter and storage drawers, as well as making me feel absolutely horrible for wanting something slightly different than what she picked out for me.

Once again, who will be living in university housing?

Don't make me answer that.

Yes, I'm Typing This Half Asleep.

2009-08-03T00:38:00.003-05:00

I could have sworn that summer had just started.

No? Didn't think so.

Fourteen more days until the bestie leaves for college and twenty-four days until my own departure.

AHH!!! :] :]

AHH!!! :/ :/

...That just about sums up how I feel.

As absolutely ecstatic as I am about leaving and going on to "the next chapter of my life" (excuse the cliched cheesiness), I am just as unbelievably apprehensive.

It feels that I am going into this whole four-year-long ordeal with higher expectations than suggested, but I don't think I can help it.

However, I have come to the conclusion that I always tend to be happier whenever I leave this town of mine. Doesn't matter where I go, but it is clear that the farther I tend to be...the higher my happy level raises.

Hmm...

College. Bring it.

Go On. Scream.

2009-07-26T18:53:00.003-05:00

Last night was a beast. I barely made it.

Having been about a week after my last party, I thought that maybe I'd be able to handle the drama that comes with drunkenness.

I suck at sensing the extent of my abilities.

Then again, this one hit pretty damn close to home...

Heading out to the party, I was dealing with the slight bit of guilt I feel every time I lie to my parents and say I'm having a sleepover. Usually this feeling goes away as soon as I get to the party destination. Not last night.

About and hour into the party, I had less than a couple sips of cherry beer, and wanted to leave.

(Yes, there is a boy that'll pop up in this situation. Give it a few sentences more.)

This brilliant musician boy (nope, not THE BOY of this story) and I, the only two sober ones at this party, got sick of the drunken crowd. With a blanket and a bag of pretzels, we climbed onto the roof of the garage.

In those couple hours, we saw saw a enormous amount of shooting stars. So many, in fact, that we ran out of things to wish for. Eventually, we started wishing for money...to buy temporary happiness. Or at least contentment.

His best friend, with her current boyfriend in tow, decided to look for him, and we ended up hopping off the roof. He went to check on his wasted best friend. I went to check on my buzzing BFF.

(That morning, when she was over at my house, THE BOY chatted her up on Facebook. Yup, her instead of me. I kept breathing and let it go.)

After find out he'd called her a few times and texted her drunk, I asked if she was alright, told her to call me if she needed anything, and headed for my car.

As soon as the host of the party deemed me "crystal." My car turned out the driveway.

Feeling the the seams that kept my sanity in tact being stretched, I knew I needed to get away for a while.

A while meaning three hours, of course.

Ignoring calls and texts, I drove. And drove. And drove. And kept driving.

When I finally decided that I should head back and check on the best friend, police lights lit up in my rearview mirror.

(I didn't have any alcohol in my system, and my speedometer showed my solid 25 mph. In a 25 mph zone.)

At almost 4:00 in the morning, I was tired. Mind, body, and soul. Completely exhausted.

So much so, I almost asked the friendly police officer to hear my story and offer me some desperately needed advice. Instead, I listened calmly as he told me about my lack of a complete stop at flashing red lights. FML. Or F this S. Either way, I took my written warning, asked the starry sky why it was being such a JERK, cried for five whole seconds and slowly drove back to the party.

Three more hours of taking care of the best friend, looking for lost cell phones, getting the drunkards to bed, and trying to block out the sounds of drunken hookups...I was done.

Things have changed. In that one night, I have changed.

It's permanent, get used to it.

Non-Confrontational, I Guess.

2009-07-23T11:42:00.000-05:00

I love my best friend, I really do. But every once in a while that green-eyed monster comes up and takes me over.

But it's not all on my part.

(Really, it's not. Shush up and let me explain.)

Pretty, intelligent, funny. That's my BFF. The boys adore her at first sight and she loves their attention. I (jokingly) call her ho-ho face, and she doesn't really deny it. Although she's the relationship type of girl, she and I both know for a fact that she's all the happier when there's some boy chasing after her. Which there usually is.

Most of the time, none of this bothers me, because I personally couldn't care less about the boys that are interested in her.

However, TONIGHT happens to be one of those rare exceptions.

A sort of double date was set up by the current boy of hers. However, the other girl bailed, and a boy was called on to take her place.

(I guess you could say this particular boy and I might be having a minor fling.)

When she texted me that he would be joining their get-together, she was all excited. It was funny, I'll admit...but she never once thought of inviting me to this hangout time.

Three boys. And my best friend.

I probably wouldn't have gone, but the fact that she was going out to dinner with a boy I can (currently) say is mine...hurt.

I'm hurt.

Sure, this boy doesn't mean the whole wide world to me...but still...

The lack of consideration from my best friend. It hurts.

How do I bring this up without sounding like a jealous freak...doesn't matter.

Me and my non-confrontational self will just have to get over it.

The Party Never Ends.

2009-07-13T16:39:00.003-05:00

The very topic of this blog is what actually has prevented me from posting anything in the past couple days.

Party hardy.

Yup, that’s what I have been doing instead of blogging.

(Lame excuse, I know…but I’m helping build that trust bridge between us. Honest. Bam.)

I’d like to look at this as a Cause&Effect situation…

Cause: I’m eighteen years old (okay, I was still seventeen at my first party, but that’s a negligible detail) and I have never done anything too wild and crazy. Despite what my parents might think, I have been a fairly hassle-free teenager….most often referred to as a “goodie-goodie.”

Goodie-goodie my ass.

Effect: I’m a crazyass partier. Okay, no.

I’m willing to try something new. Not that I feel so much that I’ve been sheltered from somewhat of a more thrilling, living-on-the-edge sort of deal, but just that…I’m ready for a change. Or at least a break of some sort. High school has ended and college hasn’t started yet, so what time could be more perfect than now to experience a little bit of the world, right?

*footnote: The university that I’ll be attending come fall is as well known for its quality of education as for it’s social life. Yup, the courses are pretty damn great, but the parties kick ass. Can you blame me for wanting to build up some tolerance? Ha.

So…yup. Phew. Done.

Yes. No. Maybe So.

2009-07-10T12:38:00.006-05:00

Wow. After re-reading last night's (or this morning's?) post a couple times, I was finally able to convince myself that I was indeed the author.

Although, in the back of my mind (way way back there with the rusty file cabinet filled long lost memories) I knew that I had written a mighty long post sometime in the middle of the night, I just didn't have a clue what it was about or what I had promised to elaborate on in the coming posts.

Huh...I see that I promised to chit chat about two things:

1. Why I've never been in a relationship

2. Why people can now spot me at PARTY party scenes

Why in the world am I drawing a blank??

Oh yah, it's summer. It's nice out. I'm going canoeing in a couple hours. Not to mention my Bee Eff Eff is coming over in an hour to start our podcast. (speaking of...DETOUR!)

Alright, it's not that we're mentally challenged or anything. In fact, we're two rather bright individuals (ifIdosaysomyself) who realize that most people don't give a ding dang dong about what a couple of newly high school graduates talk about in the massive amount of free time they have during the summer months. HOWEVER, that doesn't mean we can't record ourselves (at our peaks, I'm sure) ranting about the completely random things so we can come back and make fun of it all at a later date.

Which you know we will do.

Obviously.

Anywho...numero uno! (I know, that was incredibly impressive. Five years of Spanish later, maybe you'll all be able to kick some serious tush like I just did.)

As I've mentioned before, I am relationship-free. Truly.

Never in my life have I been in a relationship. For as long as I have had Facebook, my relationship status has been, well...statically single.

Haha, you can all keep your "oh that's alright honey" and "you poor thing" faces, because (believe it or not) I chose to be single.

(I'm serious! Don't think I'm some pathetic eighteen-year-old trying to explain what society would consider a sad sad life, because really...I voluntarily chose this path. A path with a billion less footprints than the other...)

I mean, I've had flings and such with various people, but nothing was ever that serious. The guys that I even remotely took into consideration were either a) not as great as I initially thought they were, b) intimidating me to the point of avoiding to get their attention or c) unavailable.

(Shush. I think those a three very legit reasons.)

Well, at least that's how it was at the beginning.

But after waiting eighteen whole years, I feel as if I've waited this long for THE PERFECT BOYFRIEND, he should be pretty goddamn phenomenal. There would have to be something different about him and no matter what happens in the end, I do not (I repeat, DO NOT) want to ever regret being with him.

Ya know?

Okay...well, maybe I'm being too complicated.

And maybe it's totally unrealistic.

So maybe I'll end up utterly disappointed.

But maybe. Just maybe...I'll get what I want in the end.

ANYWHO, I'm pooped and ready for a snackity snack. That second question (scroll up a bit) will be addressed soon soon soon.

Tudaloo!

I Tried.

2009-07-10T01:53:00.005-05:00

It's the middle of the night. What else is new?

But it's the perfect time to update. Ready, set, go?

I've graduated high school. Yup. I am in possession of my high school diploma. Before the actual ceremony, I was excited to find out how I would feel after having walked across the stage and shook the school district superintendent's hand. However, even though everyone around me made it seem like this rather large deal that I will supposedly never ever forget (no, not even in a million years), that particular passing felt much much less monumental than I thought it would (Poo!). But, yes. In the end, I am left with a high school diploma in my dresser drawer. Yay me!

A while before graduation, I weny to Prom with Mr. Hot Stuff. Now, he was mentioned in my posts from eight months ago, so it's been a long time coming. Despite this ongoing more-than-friendship, most of the school dropped its jaw when we did the Grand March together.

Now, I would like to just say that the whole mess (and indeed a mess it was) with Mr. Hot Stuff is over. Over over over. After realizing he has only about a fourth of the brains I have and a sex drive fifty BAJILLION times of mine (with mine being average, thanks), I decided to finally end things. The first weekend after it (although, we never officially dated) I almost caved and called to hang out, BUT with the help of my lovely BFF, I mad it through.

Since then, I've come to realize that being single is hella fun! :]

(...not that I've been in an actual relationship. But we'll get to that in another post, I guess?)

Oh, just a sidenote...I am typing this on a brand new MACBOOK PRO! *squeals*

*still squealing*

Family life. Wow...I'm honestly not too sure how that is going. I don't at all mind spending time with my parents and little sister, but there is just so much to be done with my friends. This is the last relaxing summer I will have for a while (after high school, before college) and I had expected it to be full of adventures with my high school buds. You know, a last hoorah of sorts. Things were going great. My family was alright with it...for a while. Now, they have cracked down on me and it has forced me into having to manage the time I am able to spend outside of my home. (thunderstorming on my parade, thankyouverymuch.)

Let's say that I spend all my time out with my friends one day, I must somehow make it up by staying in most (if not all) of the following day. And not only must I stay home, I must show that I am doing it willingly, which I do. Or at least I try.

(I'm a teenage girl, give me a break, wouldya?)

Also, I've picked up a bad habit that I find rather enjoyable. (Hey! Not that naughty!) Since the beginning of this summer, I have partied twice. No, not partied. PARTY partied. Pong was played and people threw up. Hopefully, you're getting the picture and there is no need for me to elaborate anymore. What's a goodie-goodie like me doing in the party scene? That question could take a wee bit more time to answer than I have tonight. I'll get to it tomorrow?

Sounds fabulous.

I Haven't Fallen Off The Face Of The Earth. Yet.

2009-07-09T15:15:00.003-05:00

I have a blog??? Since WHEN??

Aha, it's been a while, now hasn't it? If eight months isn't considered an unusually long time to wait between blog posts, then I don't know what is.

My apologies.

It's now summer, and maybe time to start anew? I think so.

The chaos level has decreased and updates are due, but as much as I adore this blog, my stomach is stubborn and food will have to come first.

Thanksgiving: A Time For Raw Bitterness.

2008-11-27T19:49:00.007-06:00

Today's Thanksgiving.

(You're kidding, right?)

No, I'm not. It seriously, without-a-doubt is Thanksgiving.

Then, why in the big bad unforgiving world can't I find a wee bit of thankfulness inside my horrendously selfish self?

(Too many adjectives? Sorry...)

Because my parents are the first generation of immigrants, we don't really have a great big group of family here in the good ole States that can get together for a most fabulous reunion.

(Insert sad sad sad face.)

Every year, my parents suggest that Thanksgiving is going to be the most wonderful day.

And EVERY year, they end up sleeping the whole day, until about 7:00 PM.

"So what?", you ask.

Hmm...imagine yours truly waking up every Thanksgiving, ready for some incredible family fun, only to be told by my parents to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally!

No, wait some more...

Being the ridiculously naive little girl that I've always been, I cling on to that slowly-dying flame of hope that my family will, for once, have that picture-perfect Thanksgiving. (you know, the one with the big turkey, ten pounds of mashed potatoes, and annoyingly loud family members to kick out at the end of the night.)

By the time my parents wake up, the flame has died, and I start the load of homework the merciless teachers have assigned for over Thanksgiving Break.

...I should have known.

How could I not have known?

Self Vs Self.

2008-11-12T23:24:00.005-06:00

My mind is out to get me.

(Aright, that sounded like I was talking about some sort of psychological disorder...)

No, I'm serious.

It refuses to just make a decision and stay with it. One moment it's this boy, and the next moment it's that boy. Sure, you could blame it on the recent occurrences in my life, but I'll be putting all the blame on my mind.

Stupid brain.
(That was slightly oxymoronic, ha.)

Anyways...
Story time!

About a week and a half ago, a friend and I were talking in Calc (yes, I still love Calc) when he suddenly said: "So, word on the street is that you and (we need a name, don't we?) Mr. Hot Stuff are a thing."

Well, as you might have guessed, I reacted with: "What? Where did you hear this?"

(Alright, just saying...There's a reason Mr. Hot Stuff is named that. His body makes my jaw drop and apparently he's got quite the package as well ;]...I almost called him Delivery Boy. For obvious reasons.)

This friend then goes on to tell me that it's the talk of his whole group of friends, which are also BFFs with Mr. Hot Stuff.

Because I didn't quite know how to react to this news (and it was definitely news to me), I begged him to get the word OFF the streets.

A few days later he comes back with an explanation for me: "Oh, and Mr. Hot Stuff thanks you're super hot and has this major thing for you."

?!?!?!?!?!

...yah, basically.

I don't remember what I did when I heard that, but it ended in something along the lines of: "Oh..."

Since then, after I did just about everything I could to dismiss the rumor that something was going on, I realized that I wouldn't mind at all if it actually developed into something. ARG.

It gets better, trust me:

Today I found out that all his friends had been telling him that he didn't have a chance with me, so he's moved on.

Oh damn.

Yup.

And if you're wondering about Mr. Nice Guy, he's out of the picture as well.
Why? Well a friend of mine (the same one that was convinced that him and I were on the brink of becoming a couple) declared her more-than-just-friends feelings she had for him.

THAT, again.

Again.

Now That I Think About It...

2008-11-11T14:39:00.002-06:00

Two days ago, the fall musical that the twenty-five of us have been working on for the past few months had come to an official finish.

Sure this musical started out rather suckily, and I almost gouged my eyes out during practice, but in the end (yes, I know this is corny) it was totally worth it.

The people were more than awesome and the actual performance turned out better than any of us had hoped it would.

Although I've done this "last performance" business several times now, I just can't seem to get use to this unfortunate closure to something this good. It always seems as though things start to end just as they start to look up.

Now, I'm left with pathetic attempts to hold on to the friendships that were just being made.

We used to see each other for at least three hours a day, whether we wanted to or not. Then, suddenly, three hours turned into fifteen minutes. Maximum.

Despite this sudden end, I still feel extremely fortunate to have had this experience.

(Oh shush, let me be sappy...I've earned it.)

Featuring.

2008-11-10T19:40:00.002-06:00

"Hold your own, know your name, go your own way."

-'Details In The Fabric' by Jason Mraz

Oh Yes.

2008-11-07T00:01:00.005-06:00

After two long months of vocal, dance, and blocking rehearsals...

THE FALL MUSICAL HAD ITS OPENING NIGHT!

All expectations were exceeded:
-It almost sold out the first night (extremely rare)
-Everyone said they were "impressed"
-People want to come again...with MORE people!
-The cast and crew got along fantabulistically
-We all cannot wait until tomorrow's show

I am so proud of all of us, and am sure this will only get better.
:D

Of Course Not.

2008-10-30T23:02:00.005-05:00

To be honest, I don't feel too much like writing about that boy. After all, he's just a boy, right?

But then again, I'm not one for empty promises.

The thing is just that I'm basically done thinking about that (for the time being) and don't really know what to say about it anymore. You know what I mean? At the time, you needed someone to blurt everything out to, but once that certain period has passed, you tend to just want to ponder on those thoughts quietly.

Here, I'll give it a shot:

Like I mentioned before, this involves a boy. And math. But let's start with the boy.

He's quite idealistic. Smart, funny, cute, and probably one of the nicest boys out there. Any girl would be more than lucky to have him. Mr. Nice Guy seems to fit.

It's not that I like him or anything...just that, he stands out to me. If he's in a room when I walk in, you can bet that I'll have noticed. There is no intense attraction or anything, but he's just one of those boys that I wouldn't mind catching the eye of.

This is where the math comes in.

Mr. Nice Guy is out of my domain.

No, not league. Domain.

Alright, I understand that most people can be a bit rusty when dealing with math, so here's a briefing: Domain is basically all the possibilities that you can plug into an equation that will spit out an answer for you. It includes all the choices that can be taken into consideration.

In this situation, being out of my domain means that Mr. Nice Guy can't even be considered for more-than-friends material.

No. He is not gay.

However, he does happen to be the brother of one of my closest friends.

Just as bad, huh?

Several friends of ours have come up to me telling me how cute we'd be as a couple and asking if I liked him (you know how they say it, with raised eyebrows and a sly smile). My response was that of course I didn't. His sister is one of my really good friends, so it just wouldn't be right.

They also told me that it really seemed as if he liked me. This suggestion, I dismissed even faster. To guys, I'm always "the friend" or their "best bud".

Just yesterday, a close friend of his dragged me away for a quick chat to, once again, ask me if I was interested in him. And, yet again, my replied was no. She then went on to say that she asked him if he liked me. Now, despite my indifference to Mr. Nice Guy, I was still curious about his answer to her question.

She acted this out for me: Ponders. (Ponders! I asked her and she said he actually thought about if for a while.) "Well...I don't think so. I mean, she's basically best friends with my sister."

I didn't realize it until it happened, but that was not the reply I had hoped for.

...

Sheesh, now I've got a situation that I thought I had just gotten over.

This is exactly what I need right now, a boy problem.

Great, just great.

Semi-Worth Reading, I suppose.

2008-10-29T23:04:00.007-05:00

Please tell me I'm not ridiculously sad:

The Rubik's Cube is my life.

Yes, I'm dead serious, quit laughing.

Last year, there was a senior who was amazing. And when I say amazing, I mean, AMAZING. He was able to solve a Rubik's Cube in less than thirty seconds. Okay, annoyingly amazing, but amazing, nonetheless.

Because he wasn't exactly the brightest bulb, I figured, 'Hey, this will be a breeze!' like any niave little girl would. After going out and forking over eight bucks for a Rubik's Cube (they were actually pretty hard to find...), I started to mess with it.

Now that I think about it, I unconsciously believed that because I was quite a bit smarter than that Rubik's Cubitian, I would just...get it.

Like, just...get it. Yah.

NO.

After a week-long streak of failures, I gave up.

Now, half a year later, this unsolved problem has resurfaced.

An official addict, I've been carrying a Rubik's Cube in my purse for the past week, pulling it out during classes, hoping to figure out the next step. Unlike the last time, I am actually getting somewhere. Currently, I've got two steps left to learn, and the rest I figured out by myself.

(Take that, Rubik's Cubitian.)

I just cannot wait for that feeling of solving my first Rubik's Cube. It feels like the only problem/question in my live with a solution. Not that I know what the solution is...YET.

Just to throw this in there: Calculus, is pretty fabulous as well. It's got answers to all its problems and (unlike all the previous math classes I've taken) I don't even have to show all my work. HA.

Oh! Speaking of math...
I've got something else that needs to be said, but it's about a boy.

Boys and math.

Ugh, I know.

Okay, not really math, but sort of. You'll see.

Next post. Promise.

It's Getting Cold.

2008-10-19T12:48:00.005-05:00

Serious case of writer's block = Lack of new posts

Two days and counting.
I've got nothing to say.

For the past week, I've resorted to talking about my insignificant daily happenings.

Those posts sucked, I know.

Sorry.

But until there's actually something worth writing about, I'm on leave.

I've Missed You.

2008-10-16T23:22:00.004-05:00

I love Britney Spears. Always have.

Yesterday, I happened to stumble upon "Piece of Me" by my childhood (and maybe even present) idol.

(Oh, come on! Admit it, you all loved her at some point.)

Although the singing wasn't exceptional, the song was extremely catchy, like all of her past hits. I've missed her these passed few years. Not the hobo Britney that's been not-so-gracefully gracing the covers of magazines, but the Britney of the past, the "Hit Me Baby" Britney.

Now that my adoration of Britney Spears is out in the open, I'd like to say that I never stopped rooting for her.

I was one of those (somewhat annoying and immature) die-hard fans that just wanted to see her shine again.

For the past twenty-four hours, I've been walking around with various songs of hers playing through my mind: "Lucky", " You Drive Me Crazy", "Slave 4 U", "Satisfaction", and "Born To Make You Happy".

(I'll have you know that my first CD ever was Britney Spears.)

Don't deny it, you all saw a post coming about her. For me to have posted so many before even bringing up THEE Britney Spears is unbelievable.

So, I love her.

In a non-lesbian, yet completely worship-like way.

Tainted.

2008-10-15T22:59:00.003-05:00

Common situation?

Whenever there is a guy making his way into my picture, there is always another girl, cutting him off my page and then pasting him onto hers.

Every time I have those "starter" feelings, you know the kind...more than neutral acquaintance, but not yet a real "likey likey"...noticing someone more than you should when you see them, but no butterflies in your stomach (yet)...well, it feels like someone I know always beats me at this game.

There tends to always be a friend, any friend, that becomes interested in a guy around the same time I do, but that friend (whoever it may be) always announces her feelings first. Because I don't like sharing my emotions with, oh, the rest of the school, I end up having to think myself out the oncoming feelings.

All the while supporting the moves that friend tells me she's planning on making towards the respective guy.

Then, because the guy has been "tainted", shall we say, he's basically off limits for the rest of...forever.

I'm so sick of having to be the one to suppress what is not very suppressible.

But what's there to do?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Jerk-Face.

2008-10-14T22:28:00.006-05:00

Today started off pretty alright. School was going just fine and everything seemed perfectly uneventful.

Unfortunately, Advanced Comp happened to be on today's schedule. The teacher finally passed back the informative papers that were handed in two weeks ago.

B+. That's what I got. I know, it's still above average. And yes, I know, lots of students would have killed to get a B+ on their Adv Comp paper. BUT, the effort I put into that essay should have gotten me an A. Usually, I would have been even more pissed (annoying academically-focus overachiever, remember?), but this time it was more like: Whatever. Why, you ask?

Well, you see...in this class we sit in rows. (You're probably like, "uh huh??") I sat next to Eye Candy Boy("Ohhh!"), and (ahh!) our rows were super close together today. Obviously, no one was going to move a whole row of desks, so...yay!

Not to mention, in another class, he spoke to me. As in...directed sound waves my way. Yes. But I won't go on about such an eency, weency happening. (As you can imagine, I'm mentally squealing and jumping up and down.)

...
Ugh.

If the day could have ended there, I would have hit Day Two of my good streak.

Nope...up next: Musical Practice.

Not only were four girls crying/depressed/pissed off, the choreographer was being a jerk-face. Being in that environment for three hours, resulted in me going home wanting to cry/in a state of depression/really really really angry.

You know the moods that makes you want to crawl into bed and fall asleep for a week or so? This was one of those.

And that's exactly what I did. (Okay, not for a week...)

Since I woke up three hours ago, only a total of five words have escaped my mouth.

Future mime?

Maybe, just maybe.

And A Half.

2008-10-13T21:02:00.004-05:00

Today was, as I had predicted it was going to be, a good day.

And honestly, what more could you ask for?

...
I mean, I guess you could say that a fantastic day tops a good one, but at this point (high school...) good is...well, pretty dang fantastic.

There was no drama whatsoever, school was really nice to me (no, really...nice as in telling me I had the highest test score on a physics test and not giving me any homework), rehearsal was semi-fun (which is actually really fun when talking about rehearsals), and and and...the radio's been playing songs that I actually like for the past hour and a half.

So, as you can imagine, I'm all smiles.

Okay, I knew I spoke too soon. Right after I said what I said about the radio being really great, a crappy song came on.

Whatever, that's one dark cloud trying to cover a billion rays of sunshine.

Alright, there was one more dark cloud: Eye Candy Boy wasn't at school today. Need an update?Read this post and then this one.

You see, today was probably going to be the last day this year to be over 70 degrees, and Eye Candy Boy is big on fishing (and no, I don't even know why he's into whatever he's into, because he is SO not my typical kind of guy). I'm more than just pretty sure that he's somewhere with his dad and brother, fishing. Aka having the time of his life. Without me.

Not that he really knows I exist. Okay, that's a lie. He knows perfectly well who I am, but I highly doubt that he's thought about me for more than a total of a second and a half.

Whatever, Eye Candy Boy isn't relationship material anyways. Which is actually too perfect, because the last thing I want right now is a relationship.

But anyways, he can fish all week if he wants.

See if I care.

Anything About Anything.

2008-10-12T23:41:00.008-05:00

Second blog today!

And once again, I don't have anything extraordinary to say. My computer is being annoyingly slow (I can't wait to get my own Mac for college!) and I felt like hopping on here. Again.

I suppose I could tell you that I recently became an online shopper! No, an online shopping addict.

All I want to do is look at clothes all day, while sitting on my bum (or lack of...I'm sure I've mentioned this in a previous post) and scroll through all the prettiness that I can't find in this awfully small town of mine.

Okay, okay...it's not THAT small, but it's just a bit bigger than THAT small. Half of the cute clothes I want to wear (after I spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars buying them) can't even be worn here.

I've been dying for some kickass ankle boots lately, and if anyone knows anything about ankle boots it's that they usually have a three-inch heel on them. Not a big problem, right? If you live anywhere but here!

If I wore shoes with heels on a daily basis, I'd get funny looks or smiles asking "Oh, what's the occasion?" GAH!!!

Whateves. After senior year, I'm out.

Fo Sho'. YO.

All Over The Place.

2008-10-12T20:18:00.004-05:00

As anyone can tell from my last few posts, my life has been...sucky suck mcsuckster. (Ooh, that sounded naughty...) Ha, but yes, it's been that bad.

However, tomorrow, it'll be Monday yet again, and I'm most definitely ready to have that be changed. How? By changing it myself.

I guess I saw it coming. Everything seemed to be going pretty smoothly for a while, and it felt like something bad was bound to happen and it did. I mean, last week had better have been the "bad thing", because another "bad thing" and I'll drop dead.

Anywhoooo...TIME TO MOVE ON.

This coming week is sort of exciting. Well, I mean, I have a good feeling about this coming week. I don't think anything is going to go horribly wrong. But you know, it's just a feeling.

Sorry for being so absolutely random and boring in this post. I didn't really know what to say, but have been wanting to post a new one all day.

Hmm...let's see, what else is there to update?

I placed another order on Forever21.com. :D
God, I love shopping. All I'm going to be able to think about for the next two weeks is my order and when it'll be here. In my hands. I ordered this really cute cream and navy (diagonally) striped sweater, a cool scarf (I've been wanting to buy a scarf for ages!), and a mustard yellow (I know that sounds gross, but I swear it's not!) croc wallet. Ah! I'm getting psycho just thinking about how long I'll have to wait before it gets here!

Oh! Another icky topic: Debit Card.
Mommy informed me that last month I spent over three hundred dollars using my debit card. She was being really nice about it (because I have another SAT test date coming up...this time for three Subject Tests...and she didn't want to stress me out), but that is so so soooo not healthy. The worst part? I only use my Debit Card about half the time. The other half, I use cash. EEK!

I've been planning to get a job for ages, but school's always so busy, and being in musicals makes scheduling shifts a pain. Not that I'd know from personal experience or anything, but most of my friends are unhappy with their too-hectic lives right now.

**After I posted this, I realized how awkward I let this end. So...yah. :]

All Jumbo-ed Up.

2008-10-11T23:10:00.005-05:00

It's almost midnight, and I'm in a rather weird mood.

One of those not happy, not sad, not angry, not glad, indescribable (why does that word look so weird?) moods.

All I want to do right now is listen to "See You Again" and ponder things. Anything, really. My life at home, my life at school, the friends in my life, and the absolute lacking of a romantic life. Ha.

For the past year or so, I've been having lots of these weird moments, and during all of them, I've sort of just shut myself off from the rest of the world. It doesn't sound healthy, and I don't doubt that is isn't, but during these moments, I'm allowed to tidy things up in my mind.

It seems as if during my daily happenings, all the information I currently have and the new information (about people, places, events) I'm obtaining have experience many natural disasters and have fallen off of their neatly organized shelves. Usually, I'm too busy to take the time to put everything back in their nice little stacks, and my mind gets all jumbo-ed up.

Then, I have one of those moods.

I swear, they're amazing. It's time I get to myself (which I haven't been able to have much of lately) and clear up the mess made by a hurricane/tsunami/earthquake/tornado.

For a while after I've had a mental cleaning session, the decisions I make tend to be more rational and not so sudden.

This, I truly believe, is the reason why I haven't kicked someone in the face yet. I mean, that sort of action is one that I have barely been able to ignore.

Everything and everyone around me seems to suck. There's some sort of awful situation shouting "surprise!" in my face around every corner and the people in my life are even worse.

For the past five days, I've been keeping myself buried in a deathly large pile of homework just so I can ignore everyone when they want to talk about one terrible incident or another. I mean, it's the hardest thing to be a good listening friend when you can barely hear your own thoughts.

Physically, I haven't been doing so well either. I haven't been sleeping well because a)I hardly actually fall completely asleep and b)I think I'm tightening my muscles in my sleep. When I woke up this morning, every muscle in my upper body was really tense and really sore.

Ugh.

Well, at least I'm mentally "tidied up" now.

I have five straight days of bad.

It's gotta be time for some good, right?

RIGHT?!

Jam Session.

2008-10-10T23:17:00.005-05:00

About a year ago, Miley Cyrus's "See You Again" was released.

Sometime in the three months or so after it came out, most of you jammed out to it.

I sure did.

During that time period, I could be found dancing in my car, around my house, and even in various clothing stores when the song was on.

Not going to lie, at first, I thought the song was annoying. I mean, not many people above the age of twelve would willingly admit to liking the teen queen. But, despite the enormous amount of effort I put into NOT the song, I was succumbed to it's amazingness.

Soon, I started finding myself singing along (and, not too long after, dancing along) to this annoyingly catchy song.

I haven't heard this song much since last year...but today, I happened stumble upon it as the background music on a YouTube video I was watching.

As if it was a reflex, I immediately got off of my chair and started dancing. And singing.

Loudly and, no doubt, obnoxiously.

Those four minutes became the highlight of my week. (which has officially made the list "Worst Weeks Of My Life")

Hmm...

You know what? I think I'll go listen to it again.

Yes, it's THAT good. :]

What Were We Thinking?

2008-10-09T20:21:00.003-05:00

Women. What were we thinking?

Sure, we're just as good (if not way better than) men, but why couldn't we just realize our good fortune and take it as it was.

It used to be that all women had to worry about was looking pretty. Their husbands took care of them and workers were hired to take care of the household. What were the women of the past thinking? Did they not enjoy the perks of being female?

I mean, I would never want to be treated as if I was born male. Why would I want to give up the luxuries that I was born having with a life in which I would actually have to work to obtain semi-comfort?

I would have been perfectly satisfied with having to not worry about anything except whether I was having a bad hair day and whether my dress was as pretty as the next girl's. There is no doubt in my mind that the money my lovely husband brought home would have been put to good use (shoes!). I could have had money and the time to spend it.

But nope. My fellow females decided that they wanted a say in the world, throwing away the birth-rights that made life oh-so-very-comfortable

So, here I am, the modern day female, getting wrinkly way before my time thanks to scarily long college applications and the existence of problems above the everyday nuisances.

GAH.

Face Of Death.

2008-10-08T20:53:00.007-05:00

Why are there people that need a Daily Dose of Drama? (Triple D, ha)

It's like a drug for them. They are willing to hurt the friends they say they love in order to get this daily dosage.

Why can't things just DIE when they're suppose to?

There are incidents that should have just been forgotten. And yet, knowing just how much tension and awkwardness can be created by the resurrecting of an incident, these people are still willing to bring it back up and drags it through the mud.

Why is the "good" in good friend so ambiguous?

When you try to save a friend from getting their heart broken again, you're considered "not supportive". Yet, in the end, when their heart has been broken, you get blamed for "not informing them of a mistake they're making."

WHY OH WHY?

I have this friend, who wears her heart on her sleeve. No, that's an understatement.

But, no matter how many times she says she "just got her heart ripped out then stomped on" and "will not make such rash decisions again", I always end up sitting on the floor with my arms around her murmuring about how things will "be okay."

And remember the Triple D previously mentioned? Well, she's a hardcore addict.

Just when things are working out for everyone around her, she will cause some sort of uproar in order to totally and completely mess up everyone else's lives so her own won't seem so bad (even when it isn't that bad at all, but once again, drama addict). But, if there's no easy way to stir up trouble dealing with a current situation, you can be sure that some absolutely awful complication from the past will be brought back into the present.

My life wasn't perfect a few days ago, but it was still (barely) manageable. I was able to smile on my way from class to class, and keep that little skip in my step. Family was being smothering and schoolwork was becoming overwhelming, but at least I had my friends for to get me through each day.

Oh, but now I know better than to even let my happiness be dependent on the actions of my buds.

Yesterday, I received a personal attack from this particular friend of mine, that made me realize the rather large parts of my world that were crashing down around me: family, school, friends...the will to keep going. (God, that sounds suicidal. Don't worry though, I'm not.)

Public humiliation, she felt, was the best way to express her feelings towards me.

In order for anyone to understand how much this actually affected me, it needs to be known that I am not an outwardly angry person. When I'm upset, or even extremely angry, I will (in an unhealthy way, I'm sure) keep it bottled up inside. So, from anyone else's perspective, I would still seem the happy-go-lucky girl that I usually am. It it extremely rare to see me visibly upset.

Now, yesterday, that line was crossed. I was far beyond angry.

Try furious.
Livid, even.

I snapped, which resulted in a minor confrontation in class that finally putting an end to the public humiliation, and shut her up.

That wasn't the end, however. For the rest of the day my face, apparently, was...scary.

According to some rather reliable sources, I looked like I was ready to murder someone with my bare hands.

A smile was out of the question, due to me not even being able to look semi-calm.

The day ended in me driving for half an hour on an endless road in the rain, hoping to rid my "Face Of Death" so my already (annoyingly) concerned parents wouldn't ask about what was wrong. The long drive worked, sort of.

That was yesterday, Bad Day #1.

Today, despite my many attempts steer clear from unhappiness, became Bad Day #2.

I'm not so sure I can handle three Bad Days in a row, but I'm pretty sure three is an optimistic number at this point.

Livid.

2008-10-07T21:37:00.003-05:00

That's what I was. Absolutely furious.

Violently infuriated.

...

Now, though, I'm all worn out. Life has most definitely taken a toll on me, and all I want to do is curl up under my bajillion comforters, turn up my portable heater, snuggle up with Moo-Moo, and fall asleep.

All in hopes of avoiding reality.

Ugh, horrible mood.

I don't think I can put words to the wrath in me.

Maybe later?

Maybe tomorrow? Yah.

All Smiles.

2008-10-06T16:44:00.004-05:00

It's Monday! :]

Mondays usually aren't the most well-liked day of the week, but this particular Monday isn't so bad.

Main reason: there's no school. (I love Inservice days, they make my week so much better by making it so much shorter.) So far today, I've been sitting around. I also got a chance to do some of the homework I've been procrastinating on, organized my room, and ate.

Because of my awfully busy Saturday and Sunday, I didn't even get a chance to glance at a textbook, which disabled me to do homework. I loved the business then, I'm sort of resenting it now, because all the homework I should have been doing since Friday night has been piled onto the To-Do List for today.

This morning, Mommy asked me to put away some of my summery clothes so more room can be made for the Winter things that are coming back out. I started organizing some things around, and although I already spent about four hours on this task, it doesn't even look like I got anything done. The neatness level of my room hasn't increased, and I don't remember where anything in my room is anymore. Great. Just great.

But eating was great! Being so busy for most of this weekend, most definitely had a negative effect on my eating routine. I haven't had a decent meal since Friday night, and only at junk-ish food. Mommy cooked breakfast and lunch for me today, and it was fabulous.

Unfortunately, there's still a huge pile of things that need to be accomplished before today ends.

So I best get back to it.

My Tomorrow.

2008-10-03T18:39:00.002-05:00

So, tomorrow's the big day.

...No! Not THAT big. However, it is pretty hectic, and like I promised, I am going to give an update on what's all going downnn.

First off, Mommy is leaving for a two day trip to New York to visit a bunch of her friends so Daddy and I (and maybe my sister, if she wakes up early enough) will be taking her to the airport at, get this...5:30 AM!!!

Yes, and it get better. Right after Daddy and I drop her off, we have to start our trip to a town that's an hour and a half away so I can take my SATs (save me?), which is going to take more than three hours. Then, almost four long torturously slow hours later, I'll be on my way back here.

Not here, I suppose, but at 1:45 PM I've got to get my tush to a surprise party for a great friend of mine. Even though the party is three hours long, I will be leaving halfway through it.

Why? Because after the party, there is still the Homecoming Dance. Oh lord.

I was planning on staying longer at the party, but the group of girls I'm getting ready with decided they wanted to do the whole dinner and pictures deal (one of the girls has a daddy who is a photographer, so they're going to be fancy shmancy pictures).

...I'm just hoping that the food is fabulous, because the only other time I'll be able to eat is on the drive back from the SAT (McDonald's, anyone?)

Lastly, the actual dance. The dance starts at 7:30 PM, but obviously no one's going to be having any serious fun until 8:00, which is when we plan on arriving. After we get there, you can find me in the middle of the crowd, dancing the night away (without Eye Candy Boy...poopy).

Of course, afther that, there will be the after-dance party that'll be god-knows-where and I'm sure it'll last until the wee hours of the morning when everyone's half falling asleep anyways.

Somehow, in all this mess, I have to be able to find time to go and buy a pair of earrings that'll match my necklace. GAHH!!!

Breathe. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Too fast. Slow down.
Alright, I can breathe.

So yes, that is indeed my schedule for tomorrow. Insanly hectic, yes. Insanely fabulous, even moreso.

I'm so pumped! (and oh so scared)

Yummy!

2008-10-02T22:23:00.007-05:00

I learned that my chances of seeing Eye Candy Boy this weekend went from slim ...to none.

He left the state at about 4:00 PM (to fly to Stanford University...yes, Stanford) and will not be back until Monday afternoon-ish. I mean, this is a guy that has, in less than a week, completley changed my reasons for getting up in the morning.

Needless to say, this physical attraction has taken over my hormonally-ran teenage body. For example, if my day is becoming a a string of crapola dripping events, a glamce of his yumminess can turn crap into gold. (Yes, THAT's how yummy his yumminess is.)

To make matters a bit more depressing, this weekend also just happens to be Homecoming weekend. My SENIOR Homecoming, in fact.

Tomorrow is the Homecoming football game (that, unfortunately, I can't go to) and on Saturday is the Homecoming Dance.

Not that I was hoping to slow dance the night away with Eye Candy Boy or anything. It's just that seeing him there would add a little more...yumminess. (God, yummy is the only way to describe him, I swear.)

Before I found out this awful news, there was still the slight hope of being squished up next to him in a crowd of students finally being let loose, but that terribly small bit of hope was taken away from me, because (obviously) I can't be squished up to yumminess when there IS NO yumminess present.

The way that I found out about the news, however, was not through him. In fact, it was through a friend of mine whose family happens to be BFFs with his family. (She apologized for telling me this and making my weekend a little less bright and shiny, though.) This might seem to make me some sort of creeper, but honest-to-god, I'm not. I didn't ask to know. I mean, who'd want this dreams to be brutally crushed like that? (No one, I hope.)

Oh, in Spanish the other day, he was making quesadillas with one of his friends to serve to the class (it was an extra credit opportunity, and making quesadillas was more appeaing than to listen to a Senor talk for forty minutes...) and just the way he was working the quesadilla-making appliances on the counter made me decide that if I ever get married, my husband better cook for me, and he better look like THAT when he cooked.

I had the urge to hop on the counter and make him kiss me kiss me kiss me. But, barely, I was able to control my raging hormones by planting my feet firmly on the ground and sitting on my hands. (As you can guess, I learned nothing Spanish-related that day.)

...
If I were to have an affair in five years with any man, it'd better be him. You might ask: Isn't a relationship more ideal? And to that, I say: Not necessarily.

Explanation:
I put guys in two main categories: Relationships VS One Night Stands

There are guys that when you like, you truly like and you really want to be with them in every way. The attraction is not only physical but it's everything else. Relationships.

Then there are the guys that you find absolutely drool-worthy, but would not want to be in an actual relationship with because either a) you don't know enough about them to actually like them for more than their yumminess or b) you know all about them, but you don't like anything under that yumminess. One Night Stands.

Affair=Physical-er. Relationship=Everything-er.

Right now, though, I've decided I want neither.

Anything more than what's already on my plate would be unnecessary added stress. (And we all know that stress leads to wrinkles.)

Speaking of...my weekend=stressful.

I'd explain now, but I'm tired, and don't feel like it.

Tomorrow. I've got lots of time tomorrow.

Yours. All Yours.

2008-09-30T23:32:00.005-05:00

I'm in love.

With a song.

Basically, "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz has been my favorite song for the past month.

I'm sure that my friends are ready to toss me into a gigantic pile of toxic waste due to the several billions times a day that I make them listen to it. It's just that everything in that song seems so simple. It all makes me want to strive for a less complicated thinking process. It hadn't occurred to me until now, but this song got me through that awful "Jake&Emma" situation and is now preventing me from going ballistic over my horrendously hectic weekend, which I will explain...in another post.

Right now, though, I think I'll be going beddy bye bye.

...Just wanted to hop on here and say that my day was the first perfectly uneventful day I've had in a long time.

'Night.

Merely Physical.

2008-09-29T19:53:00.010-05:00

Just when I was becoming a pro.

For the past few months, I have come to terms with the fact that I don't like emotional attachment, that I don't like having an outside influence on my every decision.

I used to get up in the morning and, depending on whether or not I had class with him that day, pick out my outfit.

Not bad enough? I would also pretend to organize my things in order to walk out of class right before or after him.

There's worse. Hoping to park by him in the student parking lot, I would try find out where he parks.

Oh yes, that's bad.

Now, the male pronouns don't refer to a specific boy, just whoever was my current "flavor." Flavor is used instead of "crush" because...
a) Crush is a really lame word. What, you're going to squash the poor guy?
b) It was less, much much less, than a crush.

Before I've conciously realized my lack of ability to become emotionally dependable on anything other than myself, I guess I've always forced myself (using many self-to-self conversations) to toss aside those feelings I have for a boy. (The tossing out is usually followed by many mental stompings.)

For the past two months, though, I've been doing things for me. I dress pretty for me. I walk out of class when I want to walk out of class. I park in a certain parking spot because I want to park there. It was all about ME.

Me. Me. Me.

And I loved every second of it.

But NOW, when I am more than comfortable in my own skin, being my own person, I develop a physical attraction. Oh lord.

Physical attraction is not as bad as emotional attraction, I'll admit. However, it doesn't make it any less annoying.

This new development needs to go away. Leave me alone. Find someone else to harasss.

I absolutely hate this.

This awful feeling of having your happiness in someone else's hands. This scary feeling that someone has the capability of making or breaking your day. This saddening feeling that you've lost control of yourself.

All this makes me want to punch him, perferably, in the face. Or stomp on his foot so hard, he'd need surgery to correct his toe placement. Maybe even egg his car. TeePee his house. Throw crappy furniture on his front lawn. Shave off an eyebrow.

The worst, however, is this barely-suppressible urge to kiss him until he melts.

(Or I melt, whichever comes first.)

But I can't do any of that.
Why?

...Because I'm sane.

Ugh. Insanity never looked so good.

Less Than Ideal.

2008-09-25T22:12:00.004-05:00

I'm drinking tea again!

Ohhh yes, I sure am.

Having been living off of coffee from Starbucks and McDonald's for the past month or so, a tiny sip of tea is as refreshing as refreshing can get.

After waking up from a nap, I was cranky and still extremely sleepy. Daddy asked me if I wanted some tea, and I swear, my heart skipped a beat or two. Failing to make words come out of my mouth, I nodded my head, eyes wide with disbelief. Tea was re-entering my life!

As Daddy promised, two cups of tea were waiting for me when I got out of the shower. The first cup, I gulped. This, I realized, was a mistake. First, my poor tongue got scalded. And second, it all went down so fast I couldn't savor a drop. Learning from my mistakes, I waited until feeling came back to my tongue before I held the second cup up to my lips.

Needless to say, it was...incredible.

Nothing can beat coming home from a rough day to a welcoming cup of tea.

And a rough day, indeed.

It wasn't as if anything horrendous occured, but overall, it wasn't exactly...ideal. Let's start with last night, shall we?

For the past three weeks or so, I have been having trouble falling asleep. Or staying asleep. (Just sleeping in general, I guess.) Last night was no exception. Finally falling asleep at three, I was forced to wake up a mere four hours later. Taking out the rag curlers in my hair, I realized I looked like the asian version of a Shirley Temple-Poodle mix. Yes, it was that bad. After messing with it for about fifteen minutes, I gave up and headed off to school.

I suppose my hair wasn't that disastorous, because I got a few nice compliments about it. God, I love my friends.

My hair might have turned out alright, but my brain wasn't working the way it usually does. Normally, I'm a science maniac. Call me a nerd if you must, but science and I "click". Exception: today. Physics was being difficult, and just refused to click with me. Oh lord, that was the worst hour of my life. It felt like I missed a week of classes and just got tossed back in. Ugh, let's not even talk about that.

Fast-forward a few hours and I'm sitting in Spanish. We played this ridiculous vocabulary game, and our team got creamed. Three teams. Score: 25 vs 24 vs14. Guess which team I was on? Yah. Alright, next.

Musical rehearsal. This, I enjoyed.
Like I mentioned before, today wasn't all that great. But Musical practice made it slightly better.
Today=hours of dance.
Now, I'm not a fan of physical activity, but by 3:00 PM, I had enough frustration to last me for a two-mile sprint. Thank the lord, for our choreographer. He work us hard, and while I was complaining (in harmonic unison with the rest of the cast) during the hour-long warm-up, I realized (afterwards, of course) that a killer workout was what I needed.

Frustration level down, however, lead to mental exhaustion.

After I arrived home from rehearsal, I ate a bucketful of food, then headed off for my bed, where I dropped dead.

Only to wake up an hour later.

That was the jist of it, but it was sugar-coated with drama. I avoid drama like the plague and yet, it still finds me.

Tea. I'll have more tea.

Yet Another Glorious Monday.

2008-09-22T23:35:00.005-05:00

Right now, I'm sitting on my butt (or lack there of) and staring at the monitor.

Two seconds ago, I rushed onto Blogger, thinking I had something oh-so-important to say. Some incredible realization or a phenomonal experience, but no. Sorry to excite you but I've come empty handed.

I suppose I can't leave with nothing, so here goes a debriefing of today's activities:

Starting with last night. Ha.
Last night, I fell dead asleep for about half an hour; then, after I got up to use the bathroom (why I didn't go before bed is far beyond me) I could not, for the life of me, fall back asleep. Tossing and turning all night, I only ever borderlined sleep. Before I knew it, however, the sun was in the sky, and it was time for yet another glorious Monday.

Rushing to wake up my little sister for school (by this time, I was, in fact, feeling a bit drowsy), I ran into my bedroom door. Yes, my eyes were fully open. Luckily, I recovered quickly, and managed to make my way to school without other painful mishappenings.

Suddenly, I remembered that my Monday conflicts needed to be resolved before I was marked absent yet again. I ran to the Programming Office, which ended up in me waiting for the Programming Secretary for about fifteen minutes just to be told that I would need to speak with my counselor first. Even counselors can make you feel unimportant, trust me. I waited another fifteen minutes for her to finish up her conversation with the technitian so I could get the pale yellow slip of paper I needed.

All this waiting, of course, led to me being late for my next class. Great, just great.

The rest of the day slowly sped by. (Honestly, slowly speeding was how it felt.)

Musical rehearsal was...what it usually is. A total drag with a few hilarious incidents thrown in. The dance our boys have to do cracked me up, and our Joseph (from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat) was one hell of a sight in him spandex and loincloth. The costumes for the female parts had also come in, but turned out to be nothing more than sequinced bras and see-through panties. (Reaction from the boys...ear-to-ear grins. Testosterone...sheesh.) Extreme nudity isn't typical in a high school drama production, and our director doubts that the costumes will fly with the administrators. Ha, oh darn. But seriously.

An Academic Awards Ceremony also took place tonight, and I managed to pass off my tube top as a skirt. Otherwise, it was lame. Lameee!

Well, that was about it. I don't believe anything else happened.

Oh! One more thing. I just received a rather thick pile of birthday invitations to hand out for a good friend's surprise party. Her boyfriend, brother, parents, childhood friend, and myself are planning it all out. I have the biggest pile of invitations and all have to be delivered in the next two days.

Wish me luck!

Fallen.

2008-09-21T15:22:00.004-05:00

How do you think I feel, now that I find out I've been lied to for the past four years of my life?

Like poo, that's how.

Senior year was supposed to be the most fabulous year yet, but it's been nothing but college applications, teacher recommendations, and psychological complexes. Geez.

For someone as academically-focused (alright, nerdy) as I am, this should be a breeze. Daily routine, basically. But no.

To hell with a social life. I spend my days staring dumbly at the teacher recommendation form, pretending like I'll actually get around to filling out my first college application, and drinking coffee.

Remember the days of tea? Well, I don't.

Tea has become a drink of the past. A drink for the happy. A drink for the carefree.

So, goodbye tea. Hello BFF, coffee.

Aha.

How funny, this morning, I was free as a frickin' bird, singing in a frickin' tree. Yet, after trying and failing to do something productive, this little birdie has fallen.

Five Whole Months.

2008-09-21T10:31:00.005-05:00

During my last post, I was going through a mini emotional breakdown.

If it wasn't obvious...

There wasn't one terrbily upsetting thing to have rained on my parade, and yet, my life felt like it was crashing down all around me. This got me thinking...why oh why have I been so pathetically depressing lately?

Aha! I haven't cried since April.

Five months. It's been five whole months since I've really cried.

Maybe my bottle of Coco Cola has popped the lid. Maybe my box of packing peanuts is overflowing. Maybe pockets are overstuffed with coins. Maybe my mental stability is being shaken.

Whatever it may be, I couldn't let it go on. There must be something I can do to drain the Coco Cola, remove the packing peanuts, exchange the coins for bills, and stabilize that teeter-totter I so desperately depend on.

Although I still haven't shed a tear since April, life's getting better.

The sun is shining again. The grass is a bit greener. And life has calmed down to an excitement level I can handle.

Breathe.
Life could always be worse.
But you could always make it better.

Psycho-stuff.

2008-09-17T21:00:00.006-05:00

After less than a week, I ended that little love triangle fiasco.

Prior to this encounter with "feelings", I believed myself to be rather psychologically normal. Sure, I could be complicated, difficult, and hard to explain, but overall, I thought I was...healthy.

Like I've been about everything recently, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Commitment issues? Trust issues?

I have those?!

Apparently.

When the psychoanalysis of my behavior was brought to my attention, I did what most teenage girls would do, I psychoanalyzed my psychoanalysis.

So, here's a briefing:
1. According to past history, I detest emotion attatchment
2. When I am affected by outer influences, I get irritated
3. I'm on a neverending mission to "be my own person"
4. Perfection is the only thing I'll take
5. Independence is on the top of my list
6. I question Love's existence
7. Happiness can only come from oneself
8. Not everyone was meant to have a "special someone"
9. Romance is over-rated
10. I don't want to be "fixed"

Typical teenage girl? I suppose not.

GAH.
I'm hungry, so I guess I'll write something later.

If I feel like it.

Holy Settlers.

2008-08-31T19:37:00.004-05:00

I feel bad for all of you. Every single one of you. And I apologize.

For the past few posts, I've done nothing but ranted on and on about this awfully annoying little love (you can't even call it that, because "love" isn't even involved) story.

But, being the horrid person that I am (I'm sure we've all established that in the last post) this will be another one of those terribly obnoxious rants that I obviously just need to get out of my system. Alright, here we go:

AHHH!!!!!!

Believe it or not, I screamed it just as I typed it. At the top of my lungs.

Why in the world would I do this to myself? I had made up my mind about my ideal man. I had promised myself that whatever life decided to throw at me, I'd handle by NOT being a holy settler.

HOLY SETTLER: One who becomes "religious" due to influence from certain relationships and is a "could have been".

Promise to shoot me if I decide to settle for something. Please.

Never in a million, would I want to take life throws at me because I believe it's the best someone like me is going to get. NO. I want to be able to choose what I believe to be perfection. For me.

There'll be no settling. I refuse.

AHHHHH!!!!!!

More Than We Need, Yet Less Than We Want.

2008-08-29T12:53:00.005-05:00

I'm the absolute worst. No doubt about it.

Why can't I just be happy with what I have?

You see, the boy that I was talking about a few days ago is the same boy that broke my friend's heart a few more days ago. "Jake".

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I wouldn't mind having him all to myself. However, I knew I couldn't because of his very recent issues with "Emma".

So, the feelings I've come to realize that I have had been stuffed in this little corner of my mind. Until, the feelings were returned.

Apparently, one of the reasons he said no was because of me. Great, the whole time I was trying to comfort a girl in need, I was actually the cause of all the pain she felt.

Against my better judgement, a fling has taken place in my life. But now that I have what I wanted, I've realized that I don't want it as much. Don't get me wrong, I still like him, but the fact that I can have him make me not want him as much as I did when he was unattainable.

So far, the "relationship" has been kept under wraps and is great. There's the fabulous physical part, but it doesn't lack a single thing that a friendship should have. We talk about everything that comes to mind, and ask each other ridiculous questions. (I guess I ask a lot of "what if's".) I can tell him just about anything, and he's already told me his biggest secret. And, the silences that happen are perfectly unawkward.

But why oh why doesn't it feel perfect.

What should I do? It's not fair to him that I'm so horrid. It's not his fault that I'm not completely satisfied. It's not going to work, if this can't be fixed.

What should I do? What should I do?

Swear Battle.

2008-08-25T21:13:00.008-05:00

Admit it. We all have our downfalls. Our personality flaws.

Most of us try not to overanalyze it, or pretend it's not that. But then there are some that accept it as is.

Until today, that's what I'd done, but I realized that even a simple fault as indecisiveness can lead to much more. For example, a long drawn-out swear battle with oneself.

It was nothing more than a "stay or go" situation. And even that is making it a bigger deal than it actually was.

The waiting I had to go through wasn't all that terrible, but the fact that I was arguing with myself the whole time due to the waiting...unbelievable.

"Would I be a bad person if..."
"But then again, I promised..."
"I know, but how long should I wait..."
"Why can't I just leave, since I've got to..."
"What if I'm the only option..."
"I feel terrible, because..."
"Would I be a bad person if..."

To make matters worse, I blamed myself. Yes, I did.

Now that I think back on it, it wasn't my fault, not in the least bit. If anything, I should have been angry with him. I should be ignoring him for the next two weeks, and then follow that up with a month of evil glaring, finally ending it with a yelling session that'd make him wish he had skipped practice that day.

Too bad he apologized. Too bad I accepted.

Sometimes, I wish I was a bad person.

The End Of The World. Or Something.

2008-08-24T15:27:00.012-05:00

Two days ago, I was trapped.

Trapped in a room with two great friends. Horrible, right?

Actually, it was. You see one was a girl, and the other was a boy. Need I say more?

Let's call the girl "Emma" and the boy "Jake". And this is how the story went:

Emma is a friend of mine. Jake recently became one too. Emma and Jake quickly became friends. One day, Emma happened to tell me a "joke" that got me thinking. When confronted, the truth was told: Emma liked Jake, quite a bit more than expected, actually. Needless to say, Jake was oblivious. Wanting to be a good friend to both of them, I kept my mouth shut, refusing to "get involved". It was all fun and games, until one day, Emma slipped up. Jake ignoring the "what you don't know won't hurt you" looks I kept shooting him, digged deeper, wanting the truth behind the giggles.
Soon, the scene changed. Emma was sobbing her heart out. Jake didn't know what to do with all the guilt. And I was trapped.
I couldn't leave. So, I wrapped my arms around Emma and gave her a shoulder to cry on. All the while, looking at Jake behind her, mouthing to him,"It's okay, it's not your fault."

How do you convince a seventeen-year-old girl who had her heart broken four times in the last six months that it wasn't the end of the world? That she wasn't hopeless? That things will work out for her? That poor Jake wasn't trying to break her heart? How do I tell her any of this without mentioning her tendency to wear her heart on her sleeve? Without hinting at the way she gets too emotionally involved before she should? Without telling her that the awful pain she felt was more of her doing that that of the boy she blamed?

I didn't.

I couldn't look at the mascara streaking down her face and that sparkle in her eye dim just a little and tell her all those things.

So, I let her sob. Telling her that things will get better. That it just wasn't right. That she will find the right one. That when she does, it will be absolutely perfect. That the pain she feels will be gone. That things will be okay.

What the girl really wanted to hear is,"You deserve better". I could tell that Emma was waiting for me to say those words, to convince her with those words. But, I didn't.

It wouldn't have been fair to Jake. Jake, who wanted to punch himself in the face. Who wanted to return the feelings that he didn't have. Who couldn't do anything about what was happening. Who couldn't comfort a friend he unintentionally hurt. Who just wanted to be true to himself. Who was also my friend.

He was a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him. I didn't want to put him any lower than he already felt. He didn't deserve it.

After doing all that I could, I suggested that we all go home and just take a breather.

The day after, things had changed. The air was tense, the smiles were fake, and the laughter sounded bitter. The friendship was tremendously weakened.

I had done all I could, yet it seemed like nothing at all.

...

And people wonder why I have Philophobia.

Call Me Stupid, Call Me Lame.

2008-08-21T19:32:00.006-05:00

Being passive sucks.

All day, I've been becoming aware of the existence of this feeling. A feeling for a boy.

Yah, one of those horrid things. Too bad I spent five hours with him and couldn't get any of it out.

It wasn't as if we weren't alone. It wasn't as if I would have made a fool of myself in front of anyone. It wasn't as if we weren't in the mood for confessions.

But no, I didn't utter a word. Call me stupid, call me lame. Please.

Life is supposed to be too short to not do what you want, to not express how you feel. Right?

I've given that advice to so many people in the past month, yet I can't seem to act upon it myself. But maybe it was for the best.

Maybe the feeling wasn't even there.
Maybe I was imagining it all.
Maybe I did what was right.
Maybe it was best left unsaid.

Maybe. Hopefully.

I thought I wanted to talk about it, but now, I guess not.

So, sorry to bother you.

My Own Personal Peephole.

2008-08-18T13:30:00.005-05:00

It's only 1:39 PM, and yet, I feel like today's been long enough.

I went to our state's largest waterpark two days ago, and have been tired ever since.

Well, actually, it's only been my eyes. I wore my contacts underwater, and they seemed fine at the time, but now, my eyes look nasty bloodshot. Even though I've been asleep for 20 of the past 24 hours.

So now, Mommy's convinced my eyes will be the death of me if I don't wear my glasses for a few days. And, because I feel terrible for making her all crazy with worry,my brown framed glasses are sitting on the bridge of my nose, framing everything I see.

My hesistation to wearing glasses isn't because they make me look like the nerd I really am, it's actually due to the fact that my head feels like it's being covered by a box and my eyes are being forced to look out of a little window someone carved for my eyes to look through. You know, one of those peepholes?

The peephole sort of stays in one place, so if I want to look at something to my right, I've got to turn the box (my head) and look to my right. Although you're probably thinking with as much sarcasm as you can muster, "Turning your head, how difficult...", I'll have you know that it is absolutely one of the most bothersome tasks to ever be assigned.

Contacts are, hands down, towards the tip-top of my Best Inventions Ever list. Without them...well, I wouldn't even want to think about a world without contacts.

So, thank you contacts, for existing.

I Like Fluff.

2008-08-15T17:42:00.007-05:00

Fluff. I like fluff.

Apparently.

The Twilight Saga, by Stephanie Meyer, is amazing. As you read the books, it feels real. It feels like you're reading this incredibly intense book full of non-stop action and deep thoughts. As you get closer to the last words on the last page of the last book, you feel as if the ultimate climax of this story would be the end, the last few paragraphs. Then as you close the book, you feel happy, as if you accomplished a great deal.

But then, the morning after hits.

All those words you read, all that intensity, all the promises made by the characters, all the lessons you've been taught by the book....turns out to be nothing more than fluff.

Fluff? You know, fluff. The kind that isn't all that significant. The kind that's used to stick in between the really important parts. The kind that you aren't supposed to like and just leave behind in the dust. That kind of fluff.

Doesn't it seem weird then, that I read four whole books of fluff...and absolutely loved it?

When I sat down and thought over everything, the book seemed to be filled with nothing but a simple love story. The plot wasn't phenomenal. The writing wasn't unbelievably great. The characters seemed more like charactures. And yet, somehow, I couldn't seem to get enough of the books.

The fluffy books.

It's a weird feeling, finding out you like fluff.

But not a bad one.

Home Sweet Home.

2008-08-11T13:19:00.014-05:00

It's been a while, hasn't it? Not too long, I hope.

Since the 2008 Olympic Games have officially started, I haven't had a chance to think about much else, being Chinese and all.

Having been living in the United States since the age of seven doesn't necessarily make me feel more American than Chinese. Prior to the absolutely spectacular Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games, I was having trouble picking a team to stand behind. A team to yell for when it does well. Should I pick China, because I've got Chinese blood running through my Chinese veins? But would it be unfair to not pick the U.S., since I've been accepted into the Melting Pot, and lived in it for the majority of my life?

At the beginning of June, this teeter-totter was leaning towards the U.S., though I wasn't too conscious of it at the time. However, 2008 also happened to be the year that I was going back to visit my birth country. The first time in ten years.
...
Ten years ago, I would spend my days in a group of five. We were basically a packaged deal, but each with our own distinct personalities.

At nine-years-old and towering above everyone else, LuLu was the definite leader. She was two years older than the next in line (me) and was always given the money when the five of us wanted to get ice cream at the ice cream stand on the corner.

Like I said, then there was me. Seven-years-old, and an absolute bully. Though, you wouldn't think so by looking at me: a terribly skinny kid with a rather large-looking head. Kind of like a lollipop, actually. Although I was a bully, according to my beloved uncle, I was one that always dressed her best.

Then you get the Terrible Trio: Jason, Adam, and Jimmy. All six-years-old.

Jason: The mini-leader of the mini-group(by escaping the womb a bit earlier than the others), was LuLu's younger brother. He seemed to be the one that always missed out when something was about to happen. Also the one who played it safe, Jason escaped with no major childhood accident (unlike the rest of us).

Adam: He was a quiet one, but also my maternal grandpa's only grandson that's carrying his family name. The passive aggressive one that I bullied beyond reason. Not to mention the one I hung out with more than the rest. If he was playing with a toy, any toy, I'd take it from him. Whether I cared to have it for myself or not.

Jimmy: An absolute cry-baby, that's for sure. But, also my absolute favorite third of the Terrible Trio. He cried for the fun of it, I swear. A day wouldn't pass when something didn't make him cry. However, that something was never me. I favorited the little boy, and put my bullying skills to use when necessary for him.

So there you have it. Us.
...
Fast-forward ten years and you've reached the present. Nine, seven, and six-year-olds shot up to nineteen, seventeen and sixteen-year olds. Although the rest of them had all been together the last ten years, I had left.

As excited as I was to go back, I didn't think that I'd be able to renew my membership to this private club. Things had changed just too much.

Right, as if. Sure the first couple days were hard, and it wasn't like anyone really recognized me, but in a flash, we all were sent on a trip back in time. With a twist, of course.

Almost everyone was taller than LuLu now. Jason seemed to be present at all events. Adam was the loudest (next to me) of the bunch. And Jimmy, the little cry-baby, became a lean mean fighting machine. Alright, not mean. But with a six-pack and more, Jimmy practices his Karate everyday.

Me, I haven't changed that much. I could still make them do anything I wanted, needing no more than a pout. :]
...
I guess that was how I came to realize that your home is your home. No matter how long you've been away for, it'll always be there, just waiting for you to come back.

So, China. I picked China.

There aren't words to explain the swell I felt in my chest when the Chinese team finally stepped out during the Opening Ceremony.

If there was ever a moment when I wasn't proud to be Chinese.

I take it back.

I'll Learn The Hard Way, Thanks.

2008-08-07T19:07:00.010-05:00

Ever had the feeling that you needed a break?

Not the kind of break that would get you away from one bundle of problems just so you can throw yourself into another. No, this break would be one from life. Just a temporary pause on the world around you while you went about and took a few deep breaths.

I could go for one of those.

Today, apparently, had been unofficially dedicated to me reading out of "Cracking the SAT". Don't get me wrong, it's actually pretty easily readable. However, if there's anyone in the world who'd like to spend ten hours being told by black ink on recycled paper about how a theoretical student named Joe Bloggs would take the SAT, I'd consider never drinking tea again.

School has always been important to me. Academic excellence is what I'm known for. However, I've never worked hard at it, you know, just went along with the flow. Sure, that may not seem fair to the rest of the world, but then nothing ever is.

Loving parents. They say they understand. Even went along with the non-existence of studying just as long as Straight A's were brought home.

But, for some mind-blowingly important reason, they just won't let me get away with anti-prep attitude for the SAT.

I know they love me and think it's for my best, but seriously.

Piss off.

Force-less.

2008-08-07T11:03:00.007-05:00

I'm not going to lie.

Today's blog doesn't feel so easy to type. There isn't a voice in my mind that is just wanting to say something. There's no rant that's trying to break free. What happens now?

My fingers are pausing on the keys, not too sure what letter to push next. There's no force guiding them. Not really.

...

So, thinking that it had to do with my lack of tea, I went to got myself some.

It wasn't like I didn't want tea before. I just couldn't find any tea leaves. You see, Mommy buys the tea, and then puts some in a tin cup for me so whenever I want some tea, I'd just go looking for that little green cup. What happened today, had only ever happened once before, and that was me running out of tea leaves before she had a chance to refill.

But, thankfully, after I dragged her away from her busy-ness, tea came running my way.

As much as I'd like to chat, I've got tea waiting for me.

So Much More.

2008-08-06T20:33:00.013-05:00

Oh boy. Guess what came in the mail? The proofs to my senior portraits!

...

Think back to the days of your childhood and how you literally counted down the days until your birthday. It wasn't just the presents, or just the cake, or just the party that you invited everyone in you grade to. No, it was so much more.

It was the way that all you friends treated you extra nice that day. They let you play all the games you wanted to play during recess. At lunch, you were offered the best of their treats: chocolate chip cookie, banana bread, double fudge brownie, your favorite cupcake, peanut butter bar, a whole stack of Oreos...

It was the way that your parents seemed to love you extra much that day. You weren't woken until noon, and when you did awake all on your own, there was a breakfast in bed waiting. Daddy took you for a ride in the car, anywhere you wanted. Secret plans were made that breakfast, lunch, and dinner consisted of nothing but your favorite foods.

As you can remember (or imagine), the suspense a child builds up for that Special Day is...unbelievable.

Senior portraits aren't so different.

It's your last year in high school, and most kids want, almost need, their senior portraits to the absolute best of themselves anyone in the school has ever seen. You know, the perfect lasting impression before we're all going where we want to be, not living in a place that our parents settled for.

Not that I know where exactly I'm going with this shpeel, but you know, just saying.

I guess I just wanted to express how excited I am that I finally got them.

That's all. :]

Coffee vs Tea.

2008-08-06T10:52:00.006-05:00

Sleep. I could use sleep. Just a few more hours. I promise.

Ugh, being awoken at 9:15 AM after going to bed at 4:00 AM seems to have topped my "Things I Never Want To Do Again" list. Thanks to the two months of summery bliss, I've been expecting a perfect morning, every morning.

Don't get me wrong, today is definitely closer to perfection than most. As I'm looking out the window, I'm nearly blinded by the almost-too-sunny sunshine. There's a small breeze in the air, ruffling the leaves of the trees in my front yard. The grass seems unbelievably green, almost a scarily healthy green. There's not the rumble of a car within hearing distance and I can even make out sounds of the omnipresent obliviously happy birds chirping in the woods behind my house.

...

Oh, how lovely! Mommy decided to bring me a cup of tea, knowing my head's been pounding due to the lack of my favorite liquidy substance.

Weird, isn't it? Tea is my savior, yet it seems to have been somehow outdone by it's competition: coffee. As much as I love tea, I decided to name this blog "Coffee Break". I wonder why...

Having just taken a sip, I re-realized my love of tea for the billionth time. It's fabulous. Simply is.
Coffee is pretty darn spectacular, too. Well, not real coffee I suppose, just, the...girly kind. You know, the sweetened cappucinos, the frappacinos that could pass of as coffee ice cream, not to mention the mochas and lattes that are 99.9% sugar and cream, you get the picture.

Coffee. Tea. Tea. Coffee.

What would you pick?

Green Walls And Pink Floors.

2008-08-06T01:26:00.007-05:00

It's only been half an hour since my first blog. Is it normal to be writing a second one so quickly?

Already, I feel like I'm doing this all wrong. A blog a day, right?

Hmm..."right". Recently, my subconscious mind has informed my conscious one that I really do care about what others think. I know, I know, absolutely shocking. Self-consciousness is quite the rare disorder to happen upon a teenage girl. Let me clarify. It's not the kind that swallows you up until you're nothing more than a sponge, sucking in everything around you to fill your holes. No, it's the kind that most people (I'd assume) have.

Not such a big deal, right? Right. No, wrong. Well, it depends.

To me, a person who's lived all her life wanting to be the girl that stands out from the crowd, it is a rather big deal. Humongous, actually.

It's like when you've been climbing this mountain all your life, feeling like you're closing in on the tip-top with every step you take, and suddenly, you realize that you've been climbing...in place. No matter what you do, you can't seem to move beyond those two footprints in the mud.

...

Oh lord. Have I ever sounded more like a person whose depression is getting worse by the blog? No, probably not.

Believe it or not, I'm a relatively happy person. I'm the kind of person you'd find dancing in the cereal aisle when a good song comes on and I think no one's looking. I'm be the happy dwarf in Snow White. My room has bright green walls and pink carpeting (by choice). I belt out old Chinese songs with my daddy on a daily basis. I'm the annoyingly happy person with an actual skip in her everyday step.

How in the world did I manage to sound like THAT?

Who knows?

Maybe it's the fact that it's 1:44 AM. Or maybe it's the 23rd cup of tea I'm gulping down. But I bet it's the fact that I've got to use the bathroom.

Having a full bladder has this weird way of changing a person. But, we'll save that interesting thought for another time.

In the mean time, I think I'll get some more tea ready and crawl into bed with "Breaking Dawn", Moo-Moo and an empty bladder.

Mountain-climbing will just have to wait another night.

Her "Thing". His "Thing". My "Thing".

2008-08-06T00:23:00.003-05:00

Significant. That's how I'd classify today. Well, at least the last five seconds or so.

Never in a megabajillion years, would I have thought I would give in and enter the world of blogging, but hey, it was bound to happen some time. Right?

To tell you the truth, I felt somehow tricked into it. I mean, I was on a quick tour of the site when all the green "next" buttons suddenly turned orange on me. Now that I think about it, aside from the two seconds that it took me to push the little orange "create a blog" button, the significance level of today was actually pretty low. Well, when the new screen popped up, asking for my information, I caved. Blogging might just be my "thing".

You know, the "thing". Everyone has one. Her "thing" is successfully explaining calculus to a room full of monkeys. His "thing" is scoring the winning point at the last possible second. My "thing" is...well, yet to be determined.

So, today just could turn out significant.

We'll see.