I really need to focus right now. I have to write a summary about an article en francais pour mon examen a demain. And I need to memorize it so that I can present it to Madame. I would really like to pass and be exempt from the final, but at this rate, I'll be lucky with a B. I've already accepted the fact I won't get my honor cords for French Honor Society (aka the only reason I'm in French 5); though when I think about it I'm actually really pissed off. But just because I've accepted the fact that I won't be able to, doesn't mean I need to stop being angry about it. I would be less pissed if everyone in French 5 this year was on the same level, but we're not, because half of us have Madame Dubnansky which is a fucking joke of a language class, if you don't get above a 100 in there, you are truly an idiot. But since Madame Ruutianen (or whatever how you spell that) is an ACTUAL teacher, I'm the one who has to suffer for the fact that we haven't actually been learning French these past 3 years and suddenly need to apply it. How is that fair? Since they have an easy teacher, they'll get the honor cords, but because I am really learning French for the first time in high school I CAN'T WEAR THE CORDS, all because I am two percentage points away from an A. And Jenna has the fucking nerve to complain about Madame Dubnansky! Who will get to wear the honor cords and will easily be exempt from their final? Certainly not I. My head is in a fog right now, there is no way my summary will make any sense. And I'm sorry that most of this entry is a psychotic babbling of annoyance, and I've avoided the proper use of the English language for a good portion. I'm just...I don't even know.
On the other hand, I had a lovely afternoon. It made me remember why I was friends with Becca in the first place, and as always, reminded me why I love Donna so much. Out of all my senior friends, I will miss Donna the most; she makes me laugh no matter how I'm feeling and even when I don't want to, she's my soulmate for various crazy reasons, she never makes me feel like an idiot, and she gives some of the best hugs I've ever had. I can imagine letting go of Jenna (I already have), Rebecca, Hana, Emily, Alycia, Chelsea, and all my friends/acquaintances that exist in my grade; but never Donna. And all the others were important, certainly, I'm not saying that they aren't, because without them I wouldn't be who I am and I certainly love talking to most of them. But when we move away to various parts of the country, it simply won't be as difficult to just fondly look back on those memories without wishing they were there (I'm not sure that made sense). I have a few months to go before any of this happens, but you know, as it is right now, I can't not think about what it will be like. (and I didn't mention those of you in the grades below mine because that is an entirely different story, one that I don't wish to become sentimental about at the moment) I don't think I can ever prepare myself for what it's going to be like when I go away or when others go away, it's best to be ready to move on, but honestly, all that I just said, is kind of unfathomable in the way that I can't believe it will actually happen yet. And I don't think I will until it actually does. Just like I could not believe that I was really going to England until the plane had landed and I was there. A trip that had been planned for months really didn't come to fruition in my mind, any readiness I thought myself capable of was impossible, until it truly happened. This is just like that I suppose, and I won't know until it happens what it will be that I'll miss the most. It's hard to live day to day, when all this year is about is what will happen to your future. I can't stop myself from looking ahead. (Although I am managing to be in complete denial that drumline will end a month from now, I don't think I can handle that)
This entry was just supposed to be me ranting about French and now look what it's turned in to. *sigh* Sorry for the crazy rambling/ranting. I am so DONE.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Love and Worries
I love hugs, and holding hands, and cute ways to physically connect with people that I love too much for words.
I've never been in a relationship, so for me, it feels like I'm missing something. And I know there are those people who love to be single, celebrate it really, but most of them have already been in a relationship (generally a bad one...) before they ever say that; or they're in denial. It's hard to love being single when all I want is to be somebody's someone. As I get older I find it harder and harder to accept the fact that no one has ever looked at me like that; harder to accept that and still have high self esteem. Maybe that's why I feel like I need my friends now more than ever, without them I would most certainly have more self-esteem issues than I do already.
On a different note: I think I made a terrible decision in only applying to two colleges; two pretty expensive colleges. What was I ever thinking? I'm incredibly worried I won't be able to go because of the expense, there are only so many scholarships I can earn and the government will only give my family so much. Gah, so stupid. I'm applying for the spring semester at Bloomsburg (because fall semester will probably be full now) just in case. I honestly don't know what I'll do with myself if I am unable to go to college until then. What was I thinking?
On another note: I'm really not in a bad mood right now, these are just things that remain constant in the (sort of) back of my mind. In truth, I am in a fantastically good, albeit exhausted, mood. I love everyone in ridiculous proportions.
I've never been in a relationship, so for me, it feels like I'm missing something. And I know there are those people who love to be single, celebrate it really, but most of them have already been in a relationship (generally a bad one...) before they ever say that; or they're in denial. It's hard to love being single when all I want is to be somebody's someone. As I get older I find it harder and harder to accept the fact that no one has ever looked at me like that; harder to accept that and still have high self esteem. Maybe that's why I feel like I need my friends now more than ever, without them I would most certainly have more self-esteem issues than I do already.
On a different note: I think I made a terrible decision in only applying to two colleges; two pretty expensive colleges. What was I ever thinking? I'm incredibly worried I won't be able to go because of the expense, there are only so many scholarships I can earn and the government will only give my family so much. Gah, so stupid. I'm applying for the spring semester at Bloomsburg (because fall semester will probably be full now) just in case. I honestly don't know what I'll do with myself if I am unable to go to college until then. What was I thinking?
On another note: I'm really not in a bad mood right now, these are just things that remain constant in the (sort of) back of my mind. In truth, I am in a fantastically good, albeit exhausted, mood. I love everyone in ridiculous proportions.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Listening to the Radio
Before we were allowed off the bus to visit the Cliffs of Moher, our guide threw down some ground rules. Of these ground rules, the most important was: return to the bus by a certain time; if you are 5 minutes late you have to sing, 7 minutes late you have to sing and dance, and if you're later than seven minutes you get to sing and dance where the bus used to be (he was a funny guy).
*insert the wandering of the Cliffs and the blatant consumerism in the shopping area*
*back to the bus*
Now cue Arnold, an Hawaiian-bred, stocky boy from Georgia. Arnold wasn't that great with the whole time thing, and ended up joining us on the bus five minutes too late. He walked up the bus stairs looking a bit sheepish. Everyone started howling for him to sing immediately. We fell silent and stared at him, waiting, a few kids had their cameras poised for a hilarious video.
Next thing we know, he's begun the chorus to "Apologize" in a pretty decent falsetto (it's too late to apologize, it's too late, etc). He goes on for about 2 minutes worth of the song, all the while the rest of the bus is clapping and laughing and staring at each other in amazement and hilarity. Arnold takes his seat, grinning, and high-fiving his friends. And the rest of us now have something to talk about for the first 10 minutes of our 3 hour bus ride.
For this reason, I absolutely cannot hear "Apologize" without thinking of Arnold or that moment.
*insert the wandering of the Cliffs and the blatant consumerism in the shopping area*
*back to the bus*
Now cue Arnold, an Hawaiian-bred, stocky boy from Georgia. Arnold wasn't that great with the whole time thing, and ended up joining us on the bus five minutes too late. He walked up the bus stairs looking a bit sheepish. Everyone started howling for him to sing immediately. We fell silent and stared at him, waiting, a few kids had their cameras poised for a hilarious video.
Next thing we know, he's begun the chorus to "Apologize" in a pretty decent falsetto (it's too late to apologize, it's too late, etc). He goes on for about 2 minutes worth of the song, all the while the rest of the bus is clapping and laughing and staring at each other in amazement and hilarity. Arnold takes his seat, grinning, and high-fiving his friends. And the rest of us now have something to talk about for the first 10 minutes of our 3 hour bus ride.
For this reason, I absolutely cannot hear "Apologize" without thinking of Arnold or that moment.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
When I Wake Up, Everything's Fine
Not sure why, but I was in a completely fantastic mood all day (except, maybe, when I was giving my French presentation...that was bad). I'm at odds with the weather though, haha.
There are decisions that need to be made, and I don't know how to make them. Debating each side with myself gets me no where.
Pretty much the only reason math class is not completely dull is because I write notes to myself (or other people, but mostly to myself) throughout the period. I pay attention Mrs. Teague long enough to get the notes I'll need to comprehend the math concepts later, and otherwise let my mind wander. It's not even that I don't enjoy math, because I do when I understand the concepts (which isn't that hard in this class...); it's just that she can be rather boring and I don't feel like paying complete attention.
My friend Megan and I are going to a book signing on the 24th. Even though Cassandra Clare is not one of my most favorite authors, I still love going to events and meeting an author and hearing them talk about their book. There are quite a few authors I hope to meet one of these days: Maureen Johnson, Philip Pullman, Herbie Brennan, Melissa Marr, and Eoin Colfer (*please note, I am only listing authors that I might actually have a chance of meeting, JK Rowling and authors that have only ever published one fantastic book are pretty much pipe dreams*). And I definitely want to meet John Green again, maybe be a little less shell-shocked and a little more talkative.
*ramble ramble ramble*
There are decisions that need to be made, and I don't know how to make them. Debating each side with myself gets me no where.
Pretty much the only reason math class is not completely dull is because I write notes to myself (or other people, but mostly to myself) throughout the period. I pay attention Mrs. Teague long enough to get the notes I'll need to comprehend the math concepts later, and otherwise let my mind wander. It's not even that I don't enjoy math, because I do when I understand the concepts (which isn't that hard in this class...); it's just that she can be rather boring and I don't feel like paying complete attention.
My friend Megan and I are going to a book signing on the 24th. Even though Cassandra Clare is not one of my most favorite authors, I still love going to events and meeting an author and hearing them talk about their book. There are quite a few authors I hope to meet one of these days: Maureen Johnson, Philip Pullman, Herbie Brennan, Melissa Marr, and Eoin Colfer (*please note, I am only listing authors that I might actually have a chance of meeting, JK Rowling and authors that have only ever published one fantastic book are pretty much pipe dreams*). And I definitely want to meet John Green again, maybe be a little less shell-shocked and a little more talkative.
*ramble ramble ramble*
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Well, is it?
Is being unsure the same as being insecure?
Is being able to laugh, smile, and be excited the same as being happy?
Is second-guessing the same as deciding not to?
Is being unable to decide who to talk to the same as not being able to trust?
Is being bitter the same as condemning happiness?
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
The thoughts are still the same.
Is being able to laugh, smile, and be excited the same as being happy?
Is second-guessing the same as deciding not to?
Is being unable to decide who to talk to the same as not being able to trust?
Is being bitter the same as condemning happiness?
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
The thoughts are still the same.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Hormones = Rage
I am not going to be modest here, I am generally the most liked sibling for each one of my brothers and sisters even when I'm sarcastic, even when I'm outright mean. To be honest, we are all mean and sarcastic to one another, it's just how it goes. I like to think I have a pretty long fuse when it comes to being angry, being irritable is another story, but I don't get really angry like Patrick does in a matter of seconds after being made fun of (0 to 60 80% of the time *sigh* that kid).
However, one of my mom's favorite stories is the one of me chasing Jack from the dinner table after he went too far. I don't remember what we had been arguing about, but the last straw was when he threw a piece of food at my head. After which, I slammed my hands upon the table and stood up swiftly "You wanna go?" I asked. His terrified eyes seemed to be in shock for a moment before he bolted from his chair. He ran into a corner of the foyer, I stood over him, didn't even lay a hand on him and he started crying and apologized. I returned to the table, my mom acknowledged that Jack was in the wrong and I was not in trouble (if I had made a habit of this as Patrick does, I would have been sent to my room in a heartbeat), everyone aside from Jack was laughing.
Today, Erin, my mom, dad and I, were playing Racko. My dad had to go get Jack from a friends house, when they returned we resumed the game (though now Patrick was playing for my mom because she was making dinner) and Jack stood in the kitchen doorway talking to us. I cannot remember at all what I said, though I know it was a snide remark making fun of him. All I remember is him kicking me in the back (as my back was to him) and me chasing him into the family room. I slapped him, because I know that it would hurt for the time being, but wouldn't actually be enough to cause him that much lasting pain, but he kept kicking me even when I tried to disengage and walk away, he kicked me right in the chest, so I started kicking him as well until my mom's raised voice cut into my senses and I ran from Jack and went to defend my actions to her also in a raised voice. It just so happened that Alex returned home in the midst of this mess, probably the only funny thing about it. I ran upstairs, my chest and back burning from pain, hardly able to breathe through tears of anger and pain, put my stereo onto the highest volume and tried to read. My mom came up an hour later to talk to me and give me a hug.
Jack and I haven't spoken to each other since. I definitely think he caused me more pain than I did to him, while I was angry, I certainly didn't use all of my strength to attack him. I don't think I could, I don't think I know how. Sting him, yes, bruise him, never.
I can't decide if I'm sorry or not, even though I feel terrible about it.
I can't decide if I'm a terrible sister or not.
I can't decide how much of a terrible person I am or how much I can blame this on hormonal imbalances.
The only thing that comforts me is that my mom and her siblings were much, much worse to each other, and they all turned out on good terms.
However, one of my mom's favorite stories is the one of me chasing Jack from the dinner table after he went too far. I don't remember what we had been arguing about, but the last straw was when he threw a piece of food at my head. After which, I slammed my hands upon the table and stood up swiftly "You wanna go?" I asked. His terrified eyes seemed to be in shock for a moment before he bolted from his chair. He ran into a corner of the foyer, I stood over him, didn't even lay a hand on him and he started crying and apologized. I returned to the table, my mom acknowledged that Jack was in the wrong and I was not in trouble (if I had made a habit of this as Patrick does, I would have been sent to my room in a heartbeat), everyone aside from Jack was laughing.
Today, Erin, my mom, dad and I, were playing Racko. My dad had to go get Jack from a friends house, when they returned we resumed the game (though now Patrick was playing for my mom because she was making dinner) and Jack stood in the kitchen doorway talking to us. I cannot remember at all what I said, though I know it was a snide remark making fun of him. All I remember is him kicking me in the back (as my back was to him) and me chasing him into the family room. I slapped him, because I know that it would hurt for the time being, but wouldn't actually be enough to cause him that much lasting pain, but he kept kicking me even when I tried to disengage and walk away, he kicked me right in the chest, so I started kicking him as well until my mom's raised voice cut into my senses and I ran from Jack and went to defend my actions to her also in a raised voice. It just so happened that Alex returned home in the midst of this mess, probably the only funny thing about it. I ran upstairs, my chest and back burning from pain, hardly able to breathe through tears of anger and pain, put my stereo onto the highest volume and tried to read. My mom came up an hour later to talk to me and give me a hug.
Jack and I haven't spoken to each other since. I definitely think he caused me more pain than I did to him, while I was angry, I certainly didn't use all of my strength to attack him. I don't think I could, I don't think I know how. Sting him, yes, bruise him, never.
I can't decide if I'm sorry or not, even though I feel terrible about it.
I can't decide if I'm a terrible sister or not.
I can't decide how much of a terrible person I am or how much I can blame this on hormonal imbalances.
The only thing that comforts me is that my mom and her siblings were much, much worse to each other, and they all turned out on good terms.
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