friskin

I like you.

Tork Dork.

I really should get over my fear of answering machines. Seriously.

So I'm debating whether to try for a fourth time tonight, or to just give up. I don't even know what I'd say if I got him on the line.

I'm a masochist.

But anyway... I did finally call Mary today. She wasn't there, but I left a message with someone in the office and she called me back. I'm going to be in Fiddler on the Roof. For the third time. Even though I'm going to be away probably at least four weekends. And she said we'll work out an intern/apprentice thing, which is pretty sweet. Because I truly do miss it. Even though I'm scared to death. What is with all these sentence fragments?

Anyway, that's all not going to start happening for me until March. In the mean while there are many many exciting things to look forward to, like Health Class, which starts first period tomorrow. This is what I've waited for for so long! A face to face encounter with Mister Brady. I think the world might come to an end.

Proof that my subconsious hates me: So, tonight I got an email from a Senior Associate Director of Admission from one of my colleges, telling me that my application is in the final stages of review, and saying, among other things, I plan to make a favorable recommendation on your behalf to our Committee on Admission." So I'm thinking, great! Spectacular! I reply, "Thanks so much, John! I truly appreciate it!" Hit send.

BUT

His name is not John. It's David.

My brain has malfunctioned and screwed me over yet again. I hit the back button in the midst of my panic, so he got two of the same retarded mistakes. Then I managed to type out an akward appology. Totally pathetic. I hope that lightning strikes his computer and all the emails recieved within the last few hours are lost and gone forever.

What I want to know is, why must I be so preoccupied with people named John that I can't even fucking do ONE thing right? WHY?

FUCK!

I am done with math FOREVER!!!!

Or until whatever college tells me I have to take calculus again because I only got a B in the HVCC course...

Also, I have a job! Kind of. It's kind of illegal. It sounds like a total blast.

And thus begins my life of crime.

Dream: In my back yard, the side farthest from the porch, by the fence... My nextdoor neighbor (a mix of very many people, but resembling John B. and Mal the most) is there with his dog. It is big and black and bearish. Somehow I suddenly see it when it was a puppy and comment that it has grown very quickly. The man begins to explain the guidelines for raising a dog to be very large, among them "..and you have to kiss it if it is overweight." The dog is very friendly, despite his alarming size. I pet him. He has a wide, laughing smile. The man calls him a clown a few times and the dog smiles at me.... Then there are tables set up in the yard, like a restaurant, and there are more people there with us. The waiter brings out boxes of sweets...

From the wall...

"Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea." - Rumi

I don't know why I didn't notice it until now.

When handed the choice between a peaceful ultraliberal psychotherapy cult and the blind masses of cold-hearted apathetic consumers, I'll probably pick the former. I may be crazy, but at least I'm not evil.

Speaking of which...



I wonder where the President got that totally awesome pin he's wearing on his lapel. I also wonder why that man behind him looks like he is about to turn into a Killer Tomato.

It's like...oh yeah. This is what it's like. And there's no possible way for me to make this make sense. Because I've been in my pajamas since six o'clock, and because my cheek still burns where someone's five o'clock shadow found a happily, haply, disappointing medium between love and something else, while the others looked on in jealous disapproval. It is years in the making, but his only excuse is, "You remind me of a girl I used to know."

It's funny how a turn of the head that can put you back in your place.

Sometimes it gets so bad that I forget to speak. I think, "Why won't you just say what you mean and mean what you say?"

We were closer than close, baby. I tore the shirt off your back.

Yes.

No.

I'm really hung up on this! I still can't believe that the stupid Times Union replaced Pearls Before Swine with this stupid Spot the Frog garbage! Stephan Pastis was the first man who could make me laugh out loud before 8 a.m. since Bill Watterson. Yeah, yeah, I know I could become one of those people who gets my fill of comics online, but it's just not the same! One cannot lift an image off the computer screen with silly putty! Plus, if you spill cereal on the newspaper it doesn't really matter. The same cannot be said about a computer.

What is this world coming to?
(I'll let you take that however you want.)

[Excerpts from Challenger layout]
Brad exclaims, "I think Aaron has really nice glasses." Aaron says, "I love to dress up dolls and kiss pictures of cute boys from Teen Magazine." Anne says, "No, don't." Keren says, "RAAAAAAAAGH, GET BACK TO WORK!"

"What do a football, a pizza, and Becky's sweater have in common?"
"They all have texture."

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS A TEENAGE ANGST REPORT!

Sometimes when I think about the fact that it's almost the second semester of senior year, I stop breathing, and must remind myself that my body needs oxygen to live. My grades suck, I'm spending seventy-five percent less time doing anything at all productive, I'm eating tons of chocholate, and all I can think about is the distant (and by distant I mean February) future. All because I'm afraid of facing the fact that yes, it's true, highschool is almost over, and yes I am going very far away from this place and these people. Seriously, it has me frozen in a state of consciousness that is.... somewhere else. Does that make sense? It seems like this is what I've been looking forward to for who-knows-how-long, and now it's here and I'm finding it difficult to even appreciate it (except for the free roaming privileges I have apparently been granted).....

In conclusion, "SLAM DUNK!" Have a nice hump day.

END TEENAGE ANGST REPORT.

Someone slipped me a scrap of paper today with "www.Bushin30seconds.com" written on it. I checked it out... it's pretty neat, if you're into leftist indy media kinds of stuff.

Today we discovered the place where computers go when they die.

It's in the DMS technology wing, next to the woodshop. It's a secret room that's locked all the time and there are thousands of old, broken computers stacked a million feet high. It's like a maze, totally uninhabitable to all except the techiest of techies. And on the wall there is a poster of the 23'' Cinema HD Display monitor by Apple.

Mmmmm, geek.

I'm still trying to figure out the derivative of you.

U?

Me?

What?

Calculus is full of nonsensical dreck!

"Awwww, this is the worst game I've ever played!"

I just went outside to put the car in the garage like the good daughter that I am, and IT IS SO COLD. Why is it so cold? Why? Is this really necessary?

Woah, new template. It looks a little neater... a little plain. Very un-creative (I actually swiped it from this guy). Not that it really matters; after all, even God has forsaken this blog.

So, I went to that DAR thing. It's sort of strange... It used to be (basically) a social club to keep the elite Hardcore Americans in and everyone else out. You still have trace your genealogy back to someone who fought in the American Revolution before they'll let you join (resulting in virtually no diversity whatsoever), but it's lost much of its prestige, it seems. It was nice to receive recognition from them, and yet also an extremely eerie reminder of the result of time on the human form...

Shopping is just.... too depressing for words.

I went to the mall with my mom tonight to find "a nice pair of slacks." It sucked harder than hard. She wouldn't even let me try on anything fun or pretty...

So, why, you ask, do I need "a nice pair of slacks"? Well, for one thing, I'm getting some award on Saturday morning. Daughters of the American Revolution Good Citizens Award, to be exact. I don't really even want to go. I'm not a Good Citizen! I go out of my way to mock this society all the time and take advantage of the less fortunate! Oh well... I RSVPd to the invitation and I talked to some confused old lady who seemed to have no idea what I was talking about at first. Should be fun. And now I have some nice, very conservative slacks.

And the other reason is my trip to Beloit in February! I don't know why, but I'm quite excited. I talked to my friend Admissions Counsellor Ari on the phone for a while today. We're going to go on a date!

Errr... I mean, I'm going to visit campus for Presidential Scholars Weekend, and have a look around, meet some folks, see some stuff, and compete for a swank four year scholarship... I really really really can't wait. Especially if I win! 'Cause... If I don't get into Swarthmore and I win, I'll probably end up going there. And also because Ari was so nice (but then again, it is his job to get students to want to come to the school..), it must be a neato place... And also because I really love traveling.

Speaking of traveling, my passport came today!!! How freakin' cool is that?????

I

need

a

job.

Close your eyes. Hold your breath. Count down from infinity...

Slower.

Take the easy way out.

dINosAuR KiTtY 7 (9:49:09 PM): i haaaaate seeing those damned posters all around school
skye yes 681 (9:49:18 PM): I KNOW!
skye yes 681 (9:49:20 PM): ugh...
skye yes 681 (9:49:42 PM): could he possibly be more of a narcissistic creep???
dINosAuR KiTtY 7 (9:50:06 PM): i want to e-mail him a million times and tell him his face haunts me

A battle of hopelessly locked horns, indeed! Stupid essays! Stupid school! Tell me again why I want to go to college so badly? Maybe I should just draw a picture of fighting goats and see if that will suffice..

Wow, ten billion creepy stalker points for me and Caroline. But it's okay because we cancel eachother out.

I don't need you, John Harvey!!