Contemplating a shift to LiveJournal. However, I would feel obligated to transfer my archives, and that would be a pain.

Perhaps over Christmas Break.

I'm procrastinating because I don't want to A. copyedit writing that is bad; B. write my English paper; C. study for my orchestra test; or D. do my Latin translation.

I'm even getting tired of Latin. Maybe senioritis is setting in.

In which Hannah addresses some Issues.

Dear Mr. B---,

You are not writing in Victorian times; it is not cute to capitalize the important words. What it does, in fact, is suck, and make me unhappy. Furthermore, your review sucks, and you were told that we don't run reviews of M-rated games. You are an idiot. Get a fucking clue.

No love,

Me


Dear Miss B---,

I respect you for not liking Polar Express. However, the fucking author didn't mind the adaptation of his work. They were turning a thirty-page picture book into a movie. Some things needed to be added. The makers of this movie used every single illustration at some point. Get a fucking grip.

And learn to use commas.

Me

Dear C---,

Fuck you. Just... fuck you. You come in my room and practically demand your DVD. Why didn't I do it? Because I have a fucking life, and things to do that do not include your fucking video, you fucking self-centered idiot! What part of "not my project" is difficult for you to understand?

Fuck you,
Me

Dear M---,

I love you, you're a sweetheart, you're wonderful on layout, you can't write. Gah.

Disappointed,
Me

Dear J----,

Bwahahahahahaha.

You're funny. I especially liked the quote from M--. And the part where you can't write, either. And the Drox.

All of it, really.

Still laughing,
Me

Productivity

I actually had a good holiday weekend, all in all. Finished Joseph Andrews, finished my application to UNC Asheville, complete with scholarship application and two essays that I actually like, which surprised even me, went through every single paper I have produced or received this school year, got a replacement binder for the one that bit the dust.

About the only thing I didn't do was finish my Chemistry lab. Ooops. It's all good, though. I hope.

Oversharing

So yesterday was good, as was Wednesday; both involved a Thanksgiving meal, as our neighbors invited us over for Turkey Day dinner a day early, so some of the old neighborhood people could come back and we could all party.

Today, however...

TMI warnings, by the way. Anyone not interested in either my digestive or reproductive systems is invited to stop reading.

First I started my period this morning. That was bad enough. Then I got cramps. Then I started feeling nauseous. Keep in mind that all through this, I still hadn't eaten anything, so I wasn't sure whether I was feeling crappy because of my period, or because of my period and the fact that I was hungry.

Then I puked.

Fortunately, however, that meant that I got to get out of attempting to sell Christmas trees at church. Yes!

And yes I know it's barely Thanksgiving, I didn't say we were buying a tree.

Of course, now I feel fine, albeit somewhat guilty. I'm thinking it might come back, though; I did have a couple of Advil earlier.

Grargh.

So yesterday was good, as was Wednesday; both involved a Thanksgiving meal, as our neighbors invited us over for Turkey Day dinner a day early, so some of the old neighborhood people could come back and we could all party.

Today, however...

TMI warnings, by the way. Anyone not interested in either my digestive or reproductive systems is invited to stop reading.

First I started my period this morning. That was bad enough. Then I got cramps. Then I started feeling nauseous. Keep in mind that all through this, I still hadn't eaten anything, so I wasn't sure whether I was feeling crappy because of my period, or because of my period and the fact that I was hungry.

Then I puked.

Fortunately, however, that meant that I got to get out of attempting to sell Christmas trees at church. Yes!

And yes I know it's barely Thanksgiving, I didn't say we were buying a tree.

Of course, now I feel fine, albeit somewhat guilty. I'm thinking it might come back, though; I did have a couple of Advil earlier.

Grargh.

Still having a barely-there kind of life.

Went through old yearbooks a little this afternoon, comparing pictures, reading comments. Some people who probably don't even remember me; some people I barely remember. Mr. Grunden's message in my sophomore yearbook included "hope to see you in AP Chem." I laughed a little at that.

Yearbooks have so much regret in them. Things have changed so much since sophomore year, and I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or not. The magic seems to be gone. Which is not to say that I don't have good friends; it's just that we've all gotten too old for tree forts and walks by well-hidden lakes, and mystery skeletons hidden in the dirt. I miss it, I don't miss it. This is what growing up means, I guess.

I almost wish I could have two or three of those years back, to do over, and do better.

This game is currently the number one Xbox LIVE game in America. With Xbox LIVE, you can talk to teammates without worrying about the other team hearing. It is most fun on all systems when you play with people who won’t turn coat and will
enjoy you screwing around every once in a while. For example, online, it’s nice to be able to blast a guy with rockets when he steals your kill, and he won’t flip out. Just make sure you have friendly fire off.

Congratulations, Mr. Behning. You've officially broken my brain.

I've been dealing with a lot of this in the past couple of days. That would be why I've been cranky. That, and the fact that I haven't gotten a chance to sleep in since... three weekends ago? So I'm tired, and Pubclass's writing is crap, and today was one of those days where I just wanted to curl up in a corner in the fetal position, and snarl at anyone who came near. And I still haven't finished my rough draft of the essay that was due today.

Um. Yeah. Welcome back, me.

Skipping in and out

My brain is in a weird place. There's so much going on and so much changing that I wasn't really expecting but am not really surprised by. The degree to which I talk to my mother is... odd. And the degree to which she does not judge/does not freak out is also slightly odd, perhaps, looking at it objectively, but since she's my mom... not so odd. After all, I'm not the one smoking pot, and she trusts that I won't be.

The reason I haven't been writing much of anything lately is that I have nothing to say. All the words I get are from other people.

I think that's why I like reading so much. I can fill up my head with other people's words; it saves me the trouble of coming up with my own.

Wow, it's been like a week.

Finished short story today. Yay. Also finished sonnet (finally). More yay.

Bedtime now. YAY!

Writing in iambic pentameter is extremely strange for me. I have no trouble constructing lines with four feet (tetrameter?), but fitting ideas into five feet is just... weird. I think it probably has something to do with music, and the fact that phrases are usually in fours or eights. Four just sounds more... complete than five. That might be why pentameter is standard for this sort of thing, though--it doesn't get as annoyingly rhythmic.

Weekend too full.

Quiz Bowl tournament (3rd place for the A team--whoo!): 8 hour car ride
Panthers-Falcons game (Panthers lost, 17-10--boo.): 6 hour car ride
Still not enough time to finish English sonnet and get some frickin' sleep: Fucking stupid.

In other news, I did join NaNoWriMo, and my current idea is cheesy and I love it to bits. I may or may not finish 50,000 words (see, Betsy?), but I'll have fun doing it. It being whatever I do finish.

Er.

I'm considering attempting NaNoWriMo this year. I don't have anything to write about, but I definitely have a character or two I could throw some lousy prose at. It might be cool, but I don't know if I have the time. Scratch that; I know I have the time, I just don't know if I have the time management skillz.

We'll see.

Not sucking.

Am currently sitting on two of my textbooks, along with a folding chair, because my regular desk chair is broken, and the folding chair by itself isn't tall enough to be comfortable. The normal chair has actually been broken for a while, but I've just now gotten around to fixing it, because it was uncomfortable to practice violin on.

I think I shall remove one of the books. Two isn't really the right height either.

Much better.

I remember sitting on my Wheelock last year in APUSH when I had to use the baby chair. Apropos of nothing at all.

And I just found my new senior quote: "Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." Einstein. With the Paul Simon song I was going to quote before, which is "I know what I know, I'll sing what I have said. We come and we go, it's a thing that I keep in the back of my head."

I just felt that I should write something to tell my blog that I really do care about it. Because I do, kind of.

I was looking through my archives a couple of nights ago, and realized that I've been keeping this thing with a decent amount of regularity for almost one year and eight months. I wasn't even sixteen when I started; now I'm looking forward to eighteen. Weird.

School doesn't suck. I think I'm the only one blogging to say that this week. I think I'll be able to get all A's this year if I do all my homework, which is very cool. AP English isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be; maybe it's just the Dr. B and the lack of a significant amount of homework. And since I'm not taking a history, I don't have worry about B in one of those. Good thing.

I've been a blogging machine recently. Not sure why. I give it shrugs.

I've been up for two hours already. This is a crazy, crazy thing. I biked down to the neighbors' house and back in the dark, which was pretty darn cool. I kept wishing for a can of mace, especially when one of the streetlights went out as I passed it, but nothing untoward happened, and the streetlight came back on as I passed it on my way back, which was super spiffy.

The odometer on my car tells me that the distance to said neighbors' house is about .5 miles, so maybe the term "neighbor" is a bit misleading. In any case, that means I've biked at least a mile every day since Saturday, in some cases in the morning. I'm proud of this.

All about the me

I was feeling good this morning. Got up early to bike to the neighbors' house, sang in the choir at church. Got home and crashed, and I don't know why.

I know I was snarly this afternoon, and I'm sorry. I don't know what was wrong with me.

I do not, however, regret not, ahem, "falling" into the water.

I am sunburned.

Two wheels and not much horsepower

I rode my bike today for the first time since the summer before freshman year. I'm petsitting for some people in my neighborhood who live far enough away that it takes fifteen minutes to walk or three to drive.

Or ten to bike.

I made it all the way up a hill that I couldn't climb even back then, when I actually had some muscles. Didn't quite manage to get all the way to their house without getting off and walking the bike, but I almost made it. I'm petsitting all this week, so I'm sure I'll manage it at least Friday.

Words don't really express how freaking cool that felt. I made it up that stupid hill that I never could before, even after an extended period of sloth. I can do this.

I am doing this for a reason. Next September, I'm going to bike the MS 150 with some people from church. Or maybe just one guy from church, who bikes and is doing it this year with the century option--100 miles per day. But I am going to do it.

Climbing the hill today, as minor as that was, made me believe that I can.

The Goo Goo Dolls are my band du jour. Don't know why, but something in their music is sending up sympathetic vibrations in my head right now.

Remote Blogging

This is a little weird. I'm sitting in the balcony at church, typing on the A/V Team laptop. I'm at a wedding rehearsal that supposedly started at 6:00, but apparently wedding rehearsals don't start precisely when they're supposed to, because I got here at quarter after and nothing was happening. Which was good, because I'm the only sound person here, and I've never done a wedding before. It probably won't be that bad, but I still would feel better if there were someone else here to, I dunno, hold my hand or something. Figuratively.

And still there's nothing happening, and no Jim. Ack.

I was going to complain about Newton's Third Law, but Maria explained it to me. Hah! Take that, Physics class!

And suddenly, my nasty mood is gone. Hee.

The hour is late...

Life is complicated. I don't like it when life is complicated.

The worst part is, I know it's not that complicated, I'm just making it be, and being very vague and incapable of spelling because of the hour and the medium.

Words are annoying, but unfortunately necessary.

I think the three day weekend has turned me vaguely nocturnal.

It so feels like a Friday.

O Fortuna!

I need more classical music.

Carmina Burana, so I can play "O Fortuna" loudly when there are irritating people with rap music on the road. Right now I have the version of "Greensleeves" that we're playing in Orchestra running through my head. The second violin part doesn't sound much like the melody is supposed to, but it's gorgeous and flowy, and I can hear the harmony in the viola part, and where the melody from the firsts and the cellos is supposed to go. Wish I had a recording of it.

My violin teacher keeps mentioning pieces, and being shocked when I say I've never heard them.

Sometimes I wish that I didn't know anyone who read this. There are things I want to say that I don't want some people to hear.

I should be in bed.

Being Crazy pt. II

Someone commented in my last entry, and I want to respond. In that person's example case, according to my theory, there would be two different realities, one for each version. The Gods Must Be Crazy is a wonderful example. A Coke bottle falls from the sky and causes havoc in a small African tribe. In their version of reality, it's the gods punishing them or something, don't remember exactly. But we, the viewer, can see that it was simply a slob dropping a Coke bottle out of a helicopter.

This is why my conclusion needs refining. It is an objective reality that sickness is caused by microbes. It's just not part of the reality of people who don't know this.

In other news: my computer is back! Yay! Dad is a wonderful wonderful person.

Being Crazy

Someone says they find my blog interesting! Can't help but wonder what that's a euphemism for...

I went out more this week than I ever have before, I think. Missed dinner on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, and didn't get home until 12:30 on Friday night. This is Not Normal for me. Dad was silly when I called--wouldn't give me a straight answer on a curfew extension. I hate it when he does that.

I have come to the preliminary conclusion that reality is formed by consensus. This is a conclusion that needs some work, of course, because there are some things that are real no matter who believes in them, like the world being round even before Columbus' time, but generally, it's true. Colors, for example. I could start calling the colors in my blog layout orange and black, and I would be crazy; but if "maroon" and "grey" started to be defined as orange and black, it would be the people who persisted in calling my layout maroon that would be crazy.

Another question, then, is if this actually matters. After all, the people in the Matrix didn't seem to notice that their world wasn't real. Why does real matter?

Not having a computer is annoying. Mine died a few days ago; I've been stuck without AIM, email, or surfing in privacy ever since. Iz bad.

Knowlege

Apparently, to become a member of the civil service in some period of China's history, you had to know I think Confucian philosophy. This includes things like the definition of knowlege as knowing that you know what you know, and knowing that you don't know what you don't know.

So here's a short list of my knowlege.

I know that I'm going to college next year.
I don't know where exactly that will be.
I don't know where I'm going to apply for sure.
I know that whatever school I do apply to will have an engineering program.
I know that I get way too distracted by shiny things.
I don't know why I'm not sure about doing engineering.
I don't know what my senior quote is going to be, and this worries me, because I don't want to be skinned by the yearbook staff. 'Lena, please don't skin me.
I don't know what I'm doing now, at 12:01 on a Thursday night, trying to catalog what I don't know and what I do.
But I do, maybe: I'm stuck in mental limbo, not wanting to think about next year too hard, because that would make it real. In some ways, I think I'm looking for a college that's just like RCHS, and I'm not going to find it. I'm not going to be able to foist this choice off on someone else. I have to figure it out myself, because I'm the only one who can know what's best for me.

I know that's still some of the best advice I've ever gotten.

I know that next year doesn't matter so much, because it's always possible to change.
I know that knowing and believing are two very different things.

I know that I'm tired and I'm going to bed. I don't know why I still bother to blog.

Skool

I'm hyper. I was hyper yesterday, I'm hyper today.

I'm not completely done with my AP essay, but I'm happy and I'm hyper.

I think this is going to be a good year. Four classes with less than fifteen students and Dr. B for English. Ha. And I think I have a good shot at Editor-in-Chief for the paper, and if not, I at least have a position as copyeditor, which is what I like doing anyway.

And Mom is making PANCAKES!!

Happy. :)

Walked back from attempting to put the neighbor's dog in to see my room well-lit from the street, with blinds up and perfect visibility of my bookcase. This was slightly creepy. For a moment I believed that there was a girl up there doing something on her computer, possibly being productive. I don't know if I've ever felt quite so outside of myself.

Visits to engineers went well. Julie, the woman I went to visit today, was OMG so cool. She worked for NASA, in the largest wind tunnel in the world. I am apparently a geek, because she showed me pictures of what she worked on and no. words. I want her old job, which is unfortunate because the project was shut down, hence the reason she moved to NC. Good thing, though: I know I'm looking for a college with an engineering program, and there are less than 200 of them in the states in which I'm willing to go to college. Narrowing it down.

I need to start studying Latin vocab. Okay, maybe not need, but I really want this to be a good year academic-wise. Aiming for 4 As and 2 Bs. Which, ironic, as I haven't actually finished my English homework yet.

It's hard to be introspective when the people you want to be introspective about read your blog.

Al Franken laughs like Vizzini.

That is all.

I am pissed. The guy who organizes the A/V Team at church is an engineer, and he invited me to come to his office to see exactly what engineers do, and if I would be interested. Unfortunately, another person made the same offer, and I talked to her first, and like the only day that works for Martin is the one I've already talked to her about coming. So I'm pissed, because I thought this was going to work, and now I feel vaguely like a failure. Suck.

See, this is why I'd never survive in the real world. One little setback and I'm ready to give up. I hate this.

Bleach

So Mom got these expensive strip thingies to help whiten my teeth. And I have to use them, because they are really expensive. I know it takes like two weeks, and I've only worn them once, but so far all they've managed to do is make my teeth hurt and give me hiccups.

Just sayin'.

OMG!!

http://www.spiteyourface.com/spidey.html

Go now. Because OMG so cool!

Brain dump

My brain is slowly choking on the lack of any sort of schedule. I find myself wishing that school would hurry up a bit. Not too much, but a little.

The wife of one of the adult-type cool people from church just had a baby. I feel the need to share this. He's a big geek, but he's cool, possibly because he's a big geek. So far, he and his wife have three children, counting the one born earlier this afternoon, (Yesterday afternoon? I have to stop staying up so late, it's confusing.) and they're all girls. He's the one who's going to try to convice me that I need to be an engineer.

It's funny: out of the three schools we looked at last week, the one I liked the most was Mudd, and it's the school of a type that I'm not even really sure I'm interested in. If that made any sense. I know that I would probably spend many credits on math and science stuff anyway, but it's different when that isn't the focus. I don't know if a school like Mudd is too hardcore techie or not.

Blah.

The fireworks last night at Regency Park were a lot of fun. We tripped over one of Dad's coworkers, who had brought her sister and a couple of friends. Said sister has three kids, a six-year-old, a four-year-old, and an eleven-month-old. My favorite part of the fireworks was watching Robin, the four-year-old, watch the explosions. I don't think she closed her mouth the entire time. So cute. Fireworks stopped being new and exciting some time ago, but watching her watch them brought some of the fun back.

And my neck hurts, and typing probably isn't helping, and practicing violin earlier today probably didn't either, so I'm going to bed.

Trains, Planes, and Automobiles

Sitting in the Four Points Sheraton in Portland, typing on Dad's laptop. It's a very nice hotel room; everything is light wood and white walls, so it seems bigger, and it has a high speed internet connection.

The train was so cool. It got to Emeryville about two hours late, and arrived at Union Station about six hours late, but y'know, it's cool, because it was really relaxing, and the scenery along the way was absolutely gorgeous. There was a mini-movie theater downstairs, where I watched Along Came Polly with a woman from LA we met at dinner. Unfortunately, there was a freon leak in the car so it felt rather like a sauna, but it was all good. In fact, the entire experience could probably be boiled down to "it was all good."

Saw David (my cousin), that was cool. This was in 'Frisco, before we took the bus to Emeryville. We wandered around the Ferry Building and Pier 39 for a while, had dinner, went to Starbucks. Took pictures and promised to write.

The coastal highway was pretty hot, too. I am really glad that I couldn't drive, as the road looked hellish. There was even a rock slide that was in the process of being cleared. It was pretty, though. We left way too early in the morning, when the ocean was still all foggy and grey. The sea blended into the sky; I thought it looked unfinished, like someone forgot to finish painting it. By late morning, though, the ocean was blue and some of the clouds had cleared, and the view was absolutely gorgeous.

I'll babble about Claremont at some point in the future. Right now I'm done talking. Tomorrow afternoon is Reed, then going home in the evening. Maybe we'll go to Powell's, which is a city-block-large bookstore, maybe we won't. Dunno. At any rate, good night.

And I'm off...

... well, not yet, of course, or else I wouldn't be writing, but Mom's driving us to the airport in about... wow, five minutes. Dad better hurry up.

I got up at quarter to six after having fallen asleep at quarter to two. I don't know if I really have to mention the word "suck" there or if it's implied. Too early, too early... I think my body may have been like, "well, it's three hours back over there, so might as well start going back now!" Because in California, I would have been sleeping at quarter to eleven instead of quarter to two.

These are the thoughts I think at 1:30 in the morning. I would give them back, but I don't know where they came from.

Anyway, brief hiatus until either Friday or we get an internet connection--Dad is bringing a laptop. Because he's a geek but I love him anyway.

Later.

Trippin'

I would have said "road trippin'", but only a little of it's going to be road. Referring, of course, to the reason why I'm going to be unavailable all next week--going to California! Believe I have mentioned this before, but still. I've already started packing, and packing before the night before is a rare occurance in my life.

Not much going on, really. Finished Pride and Prejudice last night, which I will admit was not as bad as I thought before I read it. I didn't omglove it, but I can see why some people would.

OMG!!

I actually had a second ulterior motive in writing so late: College Board published SAT scores online on June 18 for the June SAT I, which I took.

I got a 1440 the first time, which, while very good, was a bit disappointing. It has to do with the people I hang out with.

This time? 780 Math, 800 Verbal. 1580, baby!

I'm happy now. I can rest peacefully.

Brain droppings

Three hundred!!

Ahem. Not really why I was going to type. My dashboard just said that my number was at 299, so one more would be three hundred. Yay.

I wasn't going to type anything particularly significant anyway, just brain droppings. First brain dropping is that my particular version of use of this blog is vaguely reminiscent of Harry Potter Pensieves: I put things in it that I want to remember, and that I don't want to have to carry around in my head any more. Yes, I did read Order of the Phoenix today, why do you ask? Also read Dune as a result of my Stupid Quote of the Day, "On Publishers, Amazing Critical Eye of," which was publishers' comments about Dune. "Too slow" ... "confusing and irritating" ... "too long" ... "issues too clear-cut and old fashioned." While it may or not be, it's still one of the best-selling books, like, ever.

Brain dropping number two: college visit. Mom and I road tripped our way to Asheville and back earlier this week, visiting UNC-Asheville, then Davidson on our way back. Asheville almost immediately became my favorite campus ever; if it had a stronger academic program, I don't know if I would worry about anywhere else. As it is, though, it will be a very nice safety school, and I think part of me might be hoping that I don't get in to other schools. And it has prettiful botanical gardens, which is yay. Davidson is much different. I asked their rep for three words describing the school; the first one he came up with was "engaged." They want everyone to be involved. There's certainly the option to be not involved, but if you don't want to be involved, then why are you at Davidson? I'm not sure if I could live with that or not. Add that to the fact that it's in the middle of an itty-bitty town, which, though nice, is probably better for raising kids than having fun on weekends. Campus is the center of social life, which is apparently normal, but campus isn't really very big. I guess part of it is just that it wasn't really what I was expecting for whatever reason, but still. The upshot is that I'm still undecided, and am going to do the spend night in dorm thing come fall. If I'm still iffy then, I probably just won't apply.

We planned our trip west this evening. Dad and I are flying into LAX, then driving to Claremont for my tours and interview. The next day, we're driving up to San Francisco to drop off the rental car and catch a train to Portland. We built in some time to look at the city; not much, but almost certainly enough to ride the trolley. Train takes us to Portland, feet take us to Reed, plane takes us home. In that order. I am now really really looking forward to it, and am probably going to be rather bouncy most of the time. Dad will just have to live with it.

I had a really weird dream the other night. The dreams I can remember are usually weird dreams, but they're weird with plots. Which is what makes them weird. Anyway, this one involved a little grassy path. Path is perhaps not the right word; it was like the space between two backyards, both with chain-link fences, so there was a little alley behind both, maybe four feet wide. I don't remember how I came to be walking down this alley in the dream, though I'm sure my subconcious accounted for it somehow. What I do remember is the obstruction across the path ahead. It's not clear in my memory what, exactly, it was, just something involving vegetation, and possibly water, like some sort of swamp thing. Then a big black snake went out of that patch and over one of the fences. Upon a bit of reflection, it was not a natural sort of locomotion. It did not slither; it did not climb the fence. It just sort of... went over it. I knew in the dream that even though it was a Very Large Snake, it was harmless.

Then the poisonous snake appeared in front of me. It was also a Very Large Snake, mottled black and red and brown. It just stayed there, with its head about level with my knee. At some point in the dream I think it must have brushed my leg, because I remember that it felt plastic-y and scaley, exactly like every other snake I've touched. I knew that I couldn't go forward, because it would bite me, and that was inconceivably bad. I couldn't move too fast backward, either, because it would bite me then, too. I was slowly backing away from it, and then I woke up.

Mom's reaction when I told her of it was that it was enormously symbolic; she just wasn't sure of what, exactly. I'm not either. Her co-worker interprets dreams sometimes, and her reaction was apparently, "well, she'll be a virgin for a while," but I'm not sure what exactly from this dream created that interpretation.

Most dreams I don't really care about, but in this one, the snake weirded me out. It was really vivid, and really freaky.

Tidbits

Tomorrow's the day when we start our first big adventure--Mom and I are going to Asheville and Davidson to look at colleges. Okay, well, maybe not that big, but still. It's the first college visit of the season, so I'm excited.

I think I overpacked. We're only going for like, three days, and I packed two pairs of pants. I don't know myself anymore...

Duetted with Diana this evening. Was fun--have never played a duet with a real live person before, other than my violin teacher, and have definitely never played piano duets with anyone. We're going to try to get stuff ready to play at Sunrise in August sometime.

That's all, really. There have been a couple of things that I've thought about writing about, but then I thought, Nah, and didn't. Maybe they'll pop back up; maybe they won't. Either way, g'night.

Late

Time has a habit of creeping up on one. I started playing with riddles this evening. After a brief break for an analogies lesson (SAT review), I was back at it. An hour and a half later, it's tomorrow, and I actually have to get up tomorrow. Phooey.

Thanks to both Trevor and the anonymous person who left me reading suggestions. I am, of course, curious as to the identity of the anonymous person. (*cough*hint*cough*) I will definitely get to at least some of them this summer.

I've been reading C.S. Lewis' Space Trilogy most recently. I didn't spend enough time with either of the first two, the only ones I've finished, to get all of the theological underpinnings out, but I enjoyed the story. Which is, I suppose, rather like saying that one liked a fable, but completely ignored the moral behind it, but hey. I'll probably end up rereading them at some point, and possibly scribbling notes.

Not a whole lot to write about. Next year's school schedule plunged briefly into chaos and rescued by the brave efforts of Mr. Hames, Ms. Koch and myself; finalization of road trips being planned. The first one I have going is to Davidson, Vanderbilt, and UNC-Asheville, in a little over a week. That one, and the one at the end of the summer to Virginia and Pennsylvania, I'm taking with Mom. The one I've been stressing over most, to Pomona, Harvey Mudd, and Reed, involving airplanes and thus probably not exactly a road trip, I'm taking with Dad. Pray for me. I'm joking a little, of course, but still; we will probably end up in at least one shouting match. After all, we'll be gone for at least five days, with no company but each other. And we're both people who need lots and lots of space.

That trip has been sending me into fits because the schools I'm visiting there are some of the best I'm thinking of applying to. And also, y'know, West Coast, involving airfare. Proud of myself, though; I actually called Pomona to get an interview time reserved. Yay me.

I've written a surprising amount about nothing, really, at all. Apologies to anyone who actually read this drivel, and good night.

Three Birds in a Net

Let me tell you a story.

This story begins three days ago, last Thursday, when a neighbor asked me to take care of her house while she was at the beach for a week. Okay, I said. No problem. This responsibility would involve ensuring that the guinea pig and rabbit had food and water, emptying the dehumidifiers, and watering her plants, of which she has a multitude. The story actually starts earlier, when she actually asked me, but we aren't talking about that. Thursday was when I got the tour, so Thursday is when the story begins.

Part of her grounds, for there really isn't a better word to describe all of the flowers that she has planted, includes a garden in the back. A garden? I asked in disbelief when she first mentioned it. If this is the garden, then what's all the rest of it? She laughed, and told me to water the squash, and the little plants which would grow up to be something similarly edible, and the tomatoes, and not to worry about the things that had flowered because of the early heat. And that I could feel free to take as many blueberries from that tree as I wanted, since she wouldn't be there, and if I didn't eat them the birds would. She kept netting around the tree to prevent birds from getting the berries, but it didn't always help; in fact, she had to cut one out of the netting at one point.

You can perhaps see where this is going.

This evening, I didn't worry about watering, since it rained last night. Mom wanted to come along, as the neighbor's garden really is beautiful, and she wanted to see how it was doing.

As I gave the guinea pig its daily vitamin, Mom came over from the backyard, where the garden was. There's three dead birds in the netting, she said.

Shit, I said, though not out loud.

I went on the hunt for gloves and a plastic bag. After all, I would have to water back there again, and if I didn't deal with them that evening, I would have to deal with them later--only more rotted. The gloves were easily found, the plastic bag only slightly less so; while the neighbor isn't very organized, the neighbor's husband is. And I went on a quest to free the dead birds from the netting.

At first, it wasn't so bad. I was sad for the birds, that they ended up choking to death in a plastic net that really shouldn't even have been there in the first place. I started trying to untangle the first, most easily accessible one. It wasn't my netting, and I wanted to damage it as little as possible.

Then I turned the bird over. There were little short white things. At first I thought they might have been intestines or something, which, while gross, would not have been completely intolerable.

Then the white things moved, and I realized that I was witnessing maggots in their natural habitat. Then I went to find shears.

Long story short, I cut those suckers out of there, netting be damned. The birds went into the trash bag (bright pink) and the trash bag went into the curbside garbage bin.

Possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my entire life. I am not eating rice again in the near future.

I no longer feel like they're crawling all over me. At least, not much. This is because I took a shower. A very hot one. And I still don't want to touch the clothes I wore. It feels kind of like it did when I got a tick--absolutely gross against everything my mind tells me. I know intellectually that I was wearing gloves, and didn't even touch the bird for very long. I would know if I had maggots.

Emotionally, I'm still twitchy. I probably won't dream about moving rice any time soon, but I'm not going to forget that image in a hurry.

Eeeeeeeeeew gross gross gross gross ewewewew.

To do this summer:

I need a reading list. If anyone reads this blog, leave me a comment with at least one book I should read this summer.

Please?

School's Out

My car is marker'd, and my last exam was taken this afternoon. APUSH, and I think I got at least a B, not that it matters all that much. The cartoon, now, the cartoon was cool. Joseph McCarthy lifting up a rock, saying "They're here somewhere," with a caption reading "Senator McCarthy Searching for Communists." I actually drew a person who wasn't a stick figure. Go me.

The worthy part of the day was this evening, at which time a bunch of people went out for Chinese and a movie. The original plan was to hit the dollar-fifty theater, but that was scrapped in favor of a rental, which was scrapped in favor of The Last Samurai, which Erica apparently had at home. Good movie, really intense. Not exactly happy skippy end-of-school fare, but good nevertheless.

I hadn't really realized how much I missed having Apex carpool. I like my guys. And I so knew where the parking lot was. Bwa ha.

In approximately thirty-three minutes, I will be slightly more comfortable calling myself a senior. Dude.

Cantatatata!!

So the cantata went really really well. It was more cute than skilled, but still. I definitely brought the cool points--I watched the video that my dad taped and discovered that my elbows and upper arms were almost completely still. No dancing skills here, even when someone else tells me what to do. But! I sang my solo in front of people, and didn't screw up too too badly, so it was good.

I'm still kind of bouncy. Spent forty-five minutes playing with about five nine- to eleven-year-olds and eating ice cream. Chris came, and they decided that we needed to stay five feet apart. Of course, their idea of five feet was more like the rest of the world's idea of ten, but still. That didn't stop them. And there were more of them than there were of us. Along the way, though, I managed to steal Bethany's drumsticks, and almost her bandana. And I dumped Emily on the ground. I suffered one injury, when Bethany stepped on the side of my ankle funny and I started bleeding, but it was still fun. AND Allison said that I was cool like Maria, and Maria draws, so I was very happy. I'm cool! Boo-yah!

You know you have it made when a nine-year-old thinks you're cool. And she's a cool nine-year-old, so that makes it even better.

"That's not mine."

I just saw Shrek 2 for the second time in two days. I like it lots. I still think that number one is better, but two is funny. Puss in Boots makes me laugh, especially the big kitty eyes.

Cantata tonight. Going to go sing about how great God is for an hour. Only feel like a little bit of a hypocrite. The rest is just nervous.

Mornings

It's strange. Once I'm actually up, I enjoy mornings. It's just getting there that's a bit of a struggle. Like this morning; my alarm went off three times before I got up, but here I am, typing merrily away.

We get yearbooks today. This makes me happy. I've been looking forward to getting a chance to read them for like, a week. Good stuff.

I thought I was done. After working on that stupid trailer for about three hours, I thought I was done. No. I used the wrong settings to capture the video, so there's a wide black band around all the footage. And I get to do it all over.

In thirty minutes. When the .avi file gets from my computer to the one I'm working on, upstairs. If I haven't mentioned the word fuck, well, fuck.

Meme

Because I'm a sheep...

Go into your 25th post.
Copy the 5th line.
Paste it here along with the directions.

They are 3vil.

I amuse myself.

Screwed

Screwed, screwed, screwed. We are so screwed. The Very Expensive software is muy bien. I like it lots. I would like it even more if I had three days in which to actually learn how to use it. As it is, we're screwed.

I believe I may have mentioned that.

Why? Why, Ms. Schmitz, why?

soxxors

Making sock puppets? Is awesome. Given a little more time and some more materials, I would gladly have made more than just our Narrator. This not being the case, I'm going to bed. But the Narrator sock has a cool hat, and a vest. The vest isn't all that complicated, but it is a vest nonetheless.

So cool!!

pEtz r sMairT

Interview at Petsmart went well... I think. Turned on the Hannah-babble a little, but I think it was okay. The manager I talked to seemed nice, and she said that they prefer to hire people who don't have that much experience, because then they can train them in the Ways of Petsmart, and they won't have bad habits to correct. That's totally me all over--no experience, so no bad habits. I'm hopeful; it seems like it would be a cool place to work.

School needs to end, like, yesterday. We didn't do anything today.