Happy Halloween!!! Yay! Candy!!! Here's a picture of me in my "blue faery" dress... though at school today, I told everyone that I was Euterpe, the muse of lyric poetry and music.

Oh, and here's a Quizilla for you. I swear, this is just what I got. Really.
You are Neo, from "The Matrix." You
display a perfect fusion of heroism and
compassion.


What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

So... remember that friend who "dumped" me? Well, apparently his "new friends" are getting freaked out by his bizarre behavior while intoxicated, and don't really want to be around him so much anymore. Huh. Couldn't have seen *that* coming. I was in Psych class the other day, and realized (in psych terms) what exactly his situation is... it has to do with Erikson's adolescent identity theory. As in, an adolescent must either: a) find/form at least a sketch of an identity or b) end up with "role confusion". The description of someone with "role confusion" fits him to a T. Perfectly. And my pscyh teacher said that people who have not found an identity (i.e. role confused) are classified as having a psychological disorder. It almost makes me want to call his shrink, but I'm sure she's figured out what his deal is by now. It just doesn't seem to be helping. From just seeing him in passing and hearing about him, he's getting weirder and weirder, apparently. I hope someone can help him.

High School Escapades:

We had the whole "senior panoramic picture" thingy today, which of course meant that the "SENIORS!!" had to wear their cute little matching tee-shirts today. Apparently I wasn't the only one annoyed. For those of you who don't know, "SENIORS!!" is a term we apply to a certain group of senior girls (about 20 or so of them) who design and order (not make at home, design and order) matching tee-shirts that say "Seniors '04" on the front in pretty letters and then have some really bad poem about friends and memories and partying on the back. This year the shirts are hot pink.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't have a problem with most of these "SENIORS!!" I know several of them personally, and most of them are very nice people. I also don't think there's necessarily anything wrong with getting matching tee-shirts for you and your friends... as a matter of fact, I kinda want to do that; it looks fun, though I'm sure I could be a bit more creative. The problem is that it's become a weird pseudo-social-status symbol. It's done every single year; the "popular" girls all get matching shirts that say "SENIORS!!" or something to the effect. At my school, there is definitely not much of a pronounced social hierarchy. There are pronounced groups of friends, but they aren't impenetrable or catty, and for the most part, everyone is very friendly to everyone on an individual basis. I like that about my school. It's just that when the shirts say "SENIORS!!" but are limited to a very small minority of the senior class it kind of makes people feel... shafted. Like they're saying "We're the cool ones in the senior class, so we get tee-shirts and you don't." I dunno. That probably sounds stupid, but I bet most of you can see where I'm coming from.

Anyway, it's not just me. My whole Calculus class was talking about it (yes, I know you're all laughing now-- the Calculus class, i.e. nerds, were all upset. But we're not nerds. We're just smarter.). By the way, none of the "SENIORS!!" are in Calculus, but about half of them are in Yearbook. Anyway, the math nerds ::ahem:: I mean smart people were even thinking of getting shirts that say "math nerds" (as a joke) or something. I suggested to my friends that we get black shirts with plain white text that says, "Seniors. We have matching shirts because we're cooler than you." and yet *another* group of my friends was thinking earlier this year about getting shirts that say "Friends With Benefits" because, well, we're co-ed... though not as sexed-up as we may sound. Or else, not sexed-up at all... I think the innuendo was a joke of some sort... What I'm saying is, it looks like we could be in the early stages of what could escalate to an all-out Shirt War.


Tomorrow is Senior Skip Day. Whatever. I'm going because I can't miss Calculus. At least the halls should be less crowded. Tomorrow is also "super hero day", so since I'm wearing my Teen Girl Squad costume to my cousin's party, I'm going to wear my blue medieval dress to school tomorrow and say I'm... Fairy Girl? Renaissance Woman? Old Fashioned Justice Queen? I don't know, help me out here!

Oh, and did you know that personal grooming (putting on makeup, tying up hair) is UNACCEPTABLE in a public place. Apparently so. My English teacher made a big speech about it today because people were preening for the class "panoramic picture". A few minutes later, my lips were very dry, so I was putting on some CLEAR CHAP STICK when she spotted me. "Personal grooming is unacceptable!!!" quoth she, to which I meekly replied, "Uhm.. it's just Chap Stick. My lips were--" "Fine, fine, it's medicinal! Fine!" she conceded. A few people told me later in the day that I was their hero for saying that, but really, I was just stating my case. I know "personal grooming" in public used to be very, very, *VERY* taboo, in like, the 50's, but..... it just isn't now. Not in class. Maybe at a board room meeting, or a fancy dinner, but not in 1st period English. Especially if you can get it over with in less than 2 minutes, which most people can. I'll admit, girls who sit there putting on makeup, eyeliner and all, for the entire 90 minute class period are a little weird and gross, but come on, a quick swipe of lip gloss? A little lip gloss never hurt *anyone*. I think I'm just going to buy her some lip gloss, so she too can know the joy. I bet that's it. All she needs is a little lip gloss.

That's all. Peace out.

Phew. I finally finished my Drury application essay. It's a bit longer than two pages, but it will do for now. Anyway, I'm sure I'll have to edit it quite a bit after les profs anglais look it over. I've got to go to this foreign film thing for English club tomorrow, which means I have to do 38 Calculus problems tomorrow afternoon... fun. Just a few thousand more admssion and scholarship applications to go....

I broke my TI-83!!!! I knew it was going to happen eventually, since I drop it about 29 times a day, but that doesn't make it any easier! The thing costs over $80. I hate wasting stuff. Drat those stupid heavy books that cause me to carry stuff funny and drop my calculator all the time!!! Grrr...

We went to art in the park yesterday and bought a bunch of batiks... went a little crazy. But there was this portrait of a Somalian woman, and we just couldn't let her go... she's beautiful, with sad but strong, soulful eyes, holding her child and surrounded by an ethereal swirl of batik'ed feminine power... very incredible. My parents put it in the yoga room, and I also got a smaller picture for my room. It's all lovely.

I took my brother and his friend to get costumes, and they took so long that I ended up getting board and trying on a purple egyption dancer costume while I waited, even though I already have my blue renaissance dress. I was supersexy.... yeah, not really. Cheap costumes are silly and weird fitting, but anyway it was fun. Speaking of costumes and stuff...


Uh-oh - you are "Stop blowing holes in my
ship!" You're a little bit edgy,
honestly, and it's getting in the way of your
natural charm. We understand that life can be
hard, but take a deep breath and have a drink.
Relax.


Which one of Captain Jack Sparrow's bizarre sayings from Pirates of the Caribbean are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


But I have to get up early for madrigal tomorrow, and I have to read all kinds of crap about Paradise Lost, so I better go now. Shalom.

I had just posted the following in the comments for Wednesday's 2nd post when I realized it was long enough (not to mention relavent enough) to be a post in itself. Here's what I put in comments:

"Lol, here's hoping, Hannah. And yes, the fact that Radiohead does drugs is quite the little deterrent for me, at least for now. I'm sure you've noticed that I've developed some psychological issues about drugs, due to my experiences in the past few months. I really just get anxious whenver drugs are mentioned at all, and I can't help but have strong negative feelings about anything drug-related *at* *all*. And I don't just mean the usual negative feelings of "that's illegal" or "I would never do that", but more like *serious* negative reactions, like pulse jumps and nausea; just intense symptoms of anxiety and grief.

Huh. I wonder why.

So anyway, I find myself strangely frightened, instead of amused, when it comes to the mention of drugs, pot, drinking... I just kind of freak out.

I just need my life to be clean for a while."

I've noticed that a lot recently. Whenever someone mentions pot, or when I'm reminded of it somehow, or even when I see those stupid anti-drug commercials on TV (like Kristin's favorite--the one with the crash test dummies) I still get really nervous and feel really... I dunno. Anxious? Afraid? Upset? Sad? Something bad. It's like a toxin in my blood that hasn't yet made it out of my system. I still feel like I'm always on alert, ready to spring into action whenever I'm called. I suppose I just hadn't realized how much my life had altered because of having to take care of him...them...whatever. Not that this is anywhere *near* as valid or severe, but I guess it's kind of like soldiers with post-traumatic stress syndrome. They get used to being on edge all the time, and when they return to civillian life, they sometimes have flashbacks when they feel threatened, or something reminds them of battle. They just can't get used to the fact that they're safe now... safer at least. I suppose it will wear off with time, but sometimes on Friday and Saturday nights, I still find myself waiting for the phone to ring...

So, thanks to everyone who *didn't* come to my henna party tonight. I know Thursday night is weird, but this was the only night Katelyn could do it... wait, Katelyn didn't SHOW UP!!!!!! Blaarrr.... I'm having this thing whether you people like it or not. I'm scheduling a month in advance. I'm buying flowers and Indian appetizers. That way, when no one shows up, they don't have an excuse and I've spent a lot of money. Hmph. That'll show 'em.

Meanwhile, in the comments of my last post, it turns out that people actually *do* read this thing. Strange, I know. It seems I touched a nerve with some of my religious/political references. For future reference, I never *intend* to offend anyone... maybe with the exception of "anti-lifers". Anyway, if something I say sounds unreasonable or offensive, it's probably because I was too emotion to pay attention to my language usage and wording.

I was really upset about all the things I read last night, but I think I've calmed down a bit now. People of all faiths, unite to end abortion! And, uh.... read my blog.

Wow! I'm the link of the day on some-guy-I-don't-know's blog. I think that's grounds for making him *my* link of the day. Rough-Draft

I'm starting to feel obligated to put a quizilla on my page every day, just because that's the only way I know to put any kind of image/picture on this thing, and while they're usually dumb and weird, at least they're pretty.


You're Most Like The Season Winter ...

You're often depicted as the cold, distant season.
But you're incredibly intelligent, mature and
Independant. You have an air of power around
you - and that can sometimes scare people off.
You're complex, and get hurt easily - so you
rarely let people in if you can help it. You
can be somewhat of a loner, but just as easily
you could be the leader of many. You Tend to be
negative, and hard to relate to, but you give
off a relaxed image despite being insecure -
and secretly many people long to be like you,
not knowing how deep the Winter season really
is.

Well done... You're the most inspirational of
seasons :)


?? Which Season Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

See, isn't that pretty? Oh, and for all you readers out there in cyberspace who attend KHS, I heard something pretty funny today.

"If it were my daughter, the situation would not even *OCCUR*!" ---Wilson Fok, on being asked if he would allow his hypothetical 17-year-old daughter to go on an overnight weekend trip with her 22-year-old boyfriend. The shocking thing is, he actually had a fair ammount of *emotion* in his voice!

Speaking of Wilson... and... classes we have together... (hey, something had to tie together these paragraphs. linking my random thoughts can be challenging sometimes)... I had the hardest calculus test of my *life* today. It completely ate my lunch. I am not even kidding. They've all been hard, but this one was multiple guess, open book, open notes, calculators permitted, and it was *still* impossible! I think my Calculus teacher was afraid all of his other (brain wrenching) test had been too easy, because some people in the class got more than half the questions right. So he concocted a brand new way to sabotage our grades. His intricate scheme ran thus:

1) Give the test after the class has studied the material for over a month, is very comfortable with it, and has even progressed to another level of Calculus. This will make them overconfident, since they easily work problems from this chapter daily.

2) Give a Quiz the day before and tell them it is a "preview" of the test. Make the quiz very, very simple and comprised of the types of problems they have been taught to work. Make sure this quiz is something a reasonable teacher would give,

3) Give the test in two parts. The first part will be given before lunch break, and will be expected to be completed in 15 minutes. Make Part One just as reasonable and workable as the "Quiz" the day before, but make the last question something completely foreign that they have not learned yet. After careful study, the students should be able to figure out the trick to this last, "challenging" question, thereby believing they have solved the great "trick" on the test and are henceforth "out of the woods" so to speak.

Tell the class that after lunch, they will receive Part Two, which is only 25 questions, multiple choice, and open book/note/calculator. This will assure that they will not scramble-study over the lunch break, and the information will *NOT* be fresh in their minds.

4) When they return from lunch, placid and smiling, smack them over the head with the hardest damn set of 25 questions they have ever seen. Make sure it is a cumulative review of everything learned in the course thus far, but remember: *do not tell them this beforehand!* You MUST make them believe they are *only* testing over the materials they have just learned. Pick out the most unique and abstract problems that you can find, but make sure they are not in the book or the student's notes. It is also crucial that they not be workable by calculator.

5) Put their quarter grade thus far on their test, so that before they begin they can know exactly how much is on the line and just how well they *have* to do for their final grade, which will be entirely unalterable after the completion of this test.

6) Watch as they begin to read the questions, shuffle through their notes, leaf frantically through their textbooks, and punch numbers in their calculators in vain.

7) Smile as the desperate looks of horror pass unmistakably across their faces.


I seriously wanted to cry. More than that, I actually fantasized about throwing my calculator on the ground, screaming "&#$! this!!", and storming out. I think I almost did. Then I realized that the only way to salvage my grade was to press on through the damn thing.

My Calculus teacher is a sadist. He seriously cringes at the thought of us all getting A's. I've seen it. He winces.

It's a good thing half of us are failing. Ha ha. Ha. If I can just hold on to that 91.2%... just... hold... on....

I forgot (though I don't know how) that most of the semi-professional blogs I read are writting by left-wing extremists in California. Or at least democrats. As such, after clicking a few links, I ended up on a blog that's main issue at the moment happens to be abortion, and how devious the Republicans are at trying to outlaw it. Needless to say, I read a few too many posts and waaaaay too many comments, and now I am very sad. You wouldn't believe how many people out there think crushing an unborn child's skull (and I'm not even kidding) is okay, and is a right that should be protected.

A bit depressed now. GARRRG!!!!! They even started calling us "anti-choice" instead of "pro-life"... which I guess means that if I were to do the same ol' switcheroo on them, they would be "anti-life".... which is *exactly* what they are!!!!! GAAARG!!!! Stupid anti-lifers! I hate them! I hate them I hate them I hate them! I really do! And I don't hate anyone, ever! But I hate them.... ::hangs head in sadness::

I'm glad I'm a Christian. If I wasn't, I'd probably kill myself. Actually, I'd probably conform to the world like most other non-Christians... and revel in my enjoyment of Doing Whatever the Hell I Want Because Nothing Else Matters. Except of course protecting the rights of other people who want to do Whatever the Hell They Want *to* do Whatever the Hell They Want.

Sorry this post is so unhappy. I don't want to bring down anyone's day. I suppose this is why I wrote a song about it.

I guess that's all for now. Henna party tomorrow night, 7:00, my house!

Since the last entry sucked, I thought I'd try again.

I wore my Coldplay shirt today and got lots and *lots* of comments; mostly, "Coldplay! Yes! Best band ever!" because, well, it is. And a girl in my Calculus class (who I think is cool but don't really know) was talking to me about what she visualized when she listened to Clocks, and how completely awesome they were, and then we were talking about how they're one of the the only politically active bands out there anymore... and then we both said at nearly the same time... "Except U2!" She went on about how awesome Sunday Bloody Sunday was, and then I said, "I feel a little weird being attracted to Bono, since he's like, 50." and she was like, "No, it's not weird. He's awesome."

So it was really cool to find out this girl and I had a sort of... "band bond"... when we'd been around each other for almost 7 years but never known each other... all because of a Coldplay shirt.

And that is why Coldplay is the best band in the world.

Speaking of music, NO ONE has bought ANYTHING from me and Hannah's Music Unites Store. I am *serious* people!!! :-P Not really. I didn't expect it to make any money, but really, now I just feel unloved. :..-(

Huh. It's nearly 11:00 and I didn't do my homework all night. Oh well. The important thing is, I wrote this blog entry. And I filled out applications. A little bit.

Oh, oh, and HENNA PARTY!!! I really want to have a henna party. I need to get that together. Is Thursday okay for everyone? Hmmm?

So I have to write an essay for my Drury application. The topic is, "Describe an event that profoundly shaped your identity." Needless to say, I'm having a bit of trouble with it. Ech. So much stress, so little chocolate.

Check it out. This is my Japanese name:


Ichi - "That one with wisdom"
Sponsored by www.life-blood.cjb.net


What would your Japanese name be? (female)
brought to you by Quizilla

Fitting, eh? ::crickets...crickets:: Erm, anyway....

So I couldn't resist. I had to take the Evo quiz.


Rogue (Rogue)


What X-Men Evolution Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


meanwhile, hilarity ensues at www.mightygirl.net . Very entertaining.

Hannah wrote an *awesome* song about the whole evil-friend thing, and she really hit the nail on the head. It is really helping me through this, because somehow it gives the feelings a more solid voice... so I can let them be. Her song makes what happened real to me, which is a good thing. If I know it's real and valid, I can put it somewhere. I can acknowledge it and hold it where it belongs. Also, the song is just awesomeness.

Meanwhile, as I'm struggling to overcome problems with people who are selfish and messed up, I'm witnessing a situation where a truly wonderful guy and a truly wonderful girl are in pain. Either she doesn't really realize how lucky she is, or she doesn't have the feelings for him that he has for her. It's a place where no one is to blame-- but somehow pain sprouts from it anyway. So while her guy is truly incredible and wonderful, it doesn't necessarily make her life easier. In fact, it might be easier if he was a jerk, because then she would have a reason to keep him out of her life. Personally I can't understand what the problem is, except that they never get to see each other, but that doesn't make the relationship the problem, it makes the impeding factors a problem. When you're kept away from someone you love, the solution is not to get rid of the person you love. So it really must come down to the feelings. Which, we all know, are sometimes impossible to understand. The whole thing just sucks. It's just like it can't ever be perfect. If none of the problems most people experience are present in the relationship, then it's just some sort of rule that there *has* to be some other strange, unexplainable problem that ruins the relationship for them.

Which I should already know, because I've had a similar experience. Note: just because the person you love is kind, honest, thoughtful, selfless, responsible, caring, talented, intelligent, and has a great personality, and just because they love you, and you always treat them the best you can, that apparently *DOES* *NOT* mean the relationship will work.

Pitooee. Is there no rest?

I took that "form"quiz from Laura's blog on Quizilla. Lookee, I'm a vampire! How fitting! (for those of you who don't know, I used to be a vampire "enthusiast"... of sorts...)


You are Form 9, Vampire: The Undying.

"And The Vampire was all that remained on
the blood drowned creation. She attempted to
regrow life from the dead. But as she was
about to give the breath of life, she was
consumed in the flame of The Phoenix and the
cycle began again."

Some examples of the Vampire Form are Hades (Greek)
and Isis (Egyptian).
The Vampire is associated with the concept of
death, the number 9, and the element of fire.
Her sign is the eclipsed moon.

As a member of Form 9, you are a very realistic
individual. You may be a little idealistic,
but you are very grounded and down to earth.
You realize that not everything lasts, but you
savor every minute of the good times. While
you may sometimes find yourself lonely, you
have strong ties with people that will never be
broken. Vampires are the best friends to have
because they are sensible.


Which Mythological Form Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


Thanks for all the comments you guys, they make me feel uber-special.

Slowly but surely, I think I'm recovering. There's always a sadness pulling at the edges of my mind, but I'm able to function normally, and I can be "happy" as usual. It's just that it's always there now, tugging at me, begging for my attention. Sometimes I indulge it, sometimes I don't. It's a long road, and the pain will ease with time. Unfortunately, that's probably the only thing that will heal it.

I had a really weird nightmare last night, where the object of my dysfunction sold his body to the government for experimental research or something... because he'd given up hope and wanted them to "fix" him, even if that meant it would destroy who he really was and turn him into some kind of evil robot thing.... huh, not too far from reality...

Anyway, in the dream I came up with a really cool metaphor. Near the end of the dream I was riding in a car and he was driving, and all of a sudden the yellow lines on the road that separate the lanes ended, and the only thing there was a long, deep crack in the brownish-tan pavement between the sections they had built the road in. It looked just like a normal low-traffic road, but as I looked at the deep crack, there was some wierd voice over in the dream (which also happened to be me, as it was in fact, my mind) that said, "The yellow lines disappeared, and there was now just a long, deep crack surrounded by the nubby nude colored pavement on each side, it cut through the road like a scar, like the scar that would be with me for the rest of my life." And then I just sorta woke up, but I couldn't get out of bed for a while. That one short line in my dream-movie was somehow sadder than many, many other heartbreaking things I've witnessed in my dreams.

Anyway, I thought it was interesting that I composed a metaphor in my sleep, then remembered it when I awoke. Superfreaky.

Oh, and new comment system. Yay! So comment. Now!

So it's finally happened. I guess I should have seen it coming. I've lost my best friend; it's over between us. He tried to push me away, then changed his mind... but when I woke up the next morning I knew it had to end. This must be the answer to my prayers; to be released from this hellish cycle of cruelty, anxiety, insanity... I can't take care of him anymore. He doesn't even want my help. He keeps saying I have to learn to let go, and I know now he's been right, but it took his cruelty to make me see it.

I don't even recognize him anymore. There is nothing left in him that even resembles the boy I met a year ago, and who became my dearest friend six months ago. It feels like a death. I'm still in love with who he used to be, but there's nothing left of him. A monster has taken his place, and it wears his face like a mask, mocking me, exhaling smoke.

It doesn't make it easier to know I did it. I'm the one who killed the boy I loved. He changed because of me. He changed because of what I did, what I said... maybe just being around me. He changed as a result of our relationship, and if I'd never become close to him, he would still be who he was. I created this monster, but I couldn't control it.

It was his kindness that caught me. His caring attentiveness. He always felt personally responsible for the feelings of those around him.... he apologized for imagined rudeness and anticipated needs before they materialized. He was responsible, dependable, sensitive. Does this sound like a eulogy? It should. It is.

Maybe that boy still sleeps somewhere, deep inside him. Maybe he'll re-emmerge someday. I hope so. But for now, I'm left with someone I don't even know, and I can't keep pretending he's still the same.

It's the little things that keep getting me. I see his ridiculously happy car and know that it will never be parked at the top of my hill again. I'll never see his thin, dark form descending my driveway. There's a toothbrush in a drawer in the bathroom across the hall, but I'm afraid to touch it right now. There are books I have to return, though I've more than paid for them in dinners and diesel fuel and cigarettes by now.

He's getting everything back. And sometimes, I wished I could get some of mine back. Some of my pain, some of my loss, some of my worry and grief and desire... but he feels nothing. There's no hole in his life where I used to be. There's no twinge of regret when he thinks of calling me, then realizes he can't. He doesn't look at every damned CD, book, movie, street, house, school, restaurant, coffeehouse icecreamsshopbookstoremovietheatertreeparkstoplightpavementgrasstilecouchcarpetwatercrackerpen.... and think of me.

He doesn't think at all.

*laughs hysterically* So we had one of those "follow-your-dreams-don't-do-drugs" assemblies, and I swear, it was just like "Jim Cunningham, 2003!!!" (for those of you familiar with the cult-hit Donnie Darko). Or maybe that one episode of Clone High (GREAT SHOW) where the marketers for some "X-treme" new "Energy Booster Food" (made of pancake batter and blue food coloring) put on an assembly involving motocross jumping, flashing lights, and Jock Jams, not to mention screaming and ultra-cool sunglasses.

They were seriously throwing everything they had at us. They had loud rock music. They had motorcycles. They had people screaming, jumping, falling down, acting like idiots. I felt really bad for them, because they try so hard, when they don't realize that no 15-18 year old with even a smidgen of intellectual teenage angst is going to be influence by an assembly they are forced to attend, especially if the assembly is "happy" and positively *desperate* to be cool. People's opinions are changed by truth. They are changed by emotion. They are changed by love, fear, determination. They are not changed by 20-somethings in neon green tee-shirts running around screaming. And that's just for people in general. Teenagers are rarely changed by anything less than a mind-bending, soul-shattering, life-changing experience.

[finis rant]

In other news, I have homework. Bye.

Arghh!!!!! Alison, if you're reading this, I know *exactly* how you feel. SERIOUSLY. I think she sums it up better than I can at the moment, so for the full story, visit Alison's Blog and read the 10/5 entry. That is, in a nutshell, my life at the moment. I'm so worried about so many things and people, I'm so stressed out.... blaarrrrr.....

I wish so much I could do better. I feel like I'm not wise enough, not strong enough, not.... anything enough. Despite my successes, the thing that matters most to me right now is the health and well-being of a certain friend... and that happens to be the one thing I *can't* fix. I can't even make him feel better *temporarily* anymore, and that is a failing that overshadows anything I've done right recently. I'm struggling to take care of myself, but I'm constantly forced to take care of other people, too, and I just feel like I'm not doing as good a job as I used to. Sure, I'm not *literally* forced to take care of them, but if someone is drowning and you know how to swim, are you going to just stand on the dock and let them die? Better yet, what if it's someone you love? What can I do? I'm haunted by nightmares of worst-case scenarios, I just want him to have hope. Hope and purpose.

I pray fervently and often. Sometimes I feel like I've been answered, sometimes I still feel overwhelmed, but at least I know I'm doing all I can, and at least God's there to replenish my spiritual energy. They always teach you to give it to God, give it to God... but I'm God's instrument, can't *I* do anything?? So I pray for strength. For wisdom. For sanity. For healing. I pray that this dark valley has an end and we'll all soon see the sun again. I pray for lots of things, and I'm probably praying for you too. The list just keeps growing.

In other (similar) news.....

I had another "instinct incident" the other night. I got home from a movie around 12:00, got out of my car and walked down the street. After a few minutes of walking, I heard the sound of a familiar engine and changed direction. I started running back up the steepest hill in the neighborhood (adrenaline is incredible, it felt like I was running on air) and appeared in my friend's driveway in time to help another hoist her out of his car. We had to carry her up the porch stairs and get her to her room, but the house was locked so he had to break in through her window. He wouldn't have been able to break in *and* hold her up at the same time.

My heart knows when it's needed. I suppose sometimes it can still be useful.

Meanwhile, my Psychology class is starting to wonder how I know so much about drugs.

So I hung out with a new friend for the first time last night, and I'm sure he thinks very differently of me now.

See, all the trouble started when he and his friend decided it would be fun to get a 12-pack. This, of course, is a very bad idea for me. I have a very, *very* low tolerance. So we walk to the gas station to get our inebriating substances and take off down National towards the Taco Bell a block away. And really, I hadn't intoxicated myself on like that in *years* and had forgotten just how little of it I could tolerate. So by the time I had taken my third sip, I was absolutely out of my mind. I absolutely COULD NOT stop laughing. I laughed the entire walk. And after a few minutes, my speech slurred slightly and I began staggering a bit (though that could have been the magic goat boots). So basically, we're (the five of us) walking down along campus with cans in our hands, yelling at cars and laughing uncontrollably, while he holds the rest of the 12-pack under his arm. I am seriously surprised we didn't get stopped by *someone*. Even if we *weren't* driving, we were certainly being obnoxious.

Oh, and in case you were wondering what this wonderful intoxicating beverage was.... it was Mountain Dew.

And that, ladies and gents, is why I can never go near *any* drug more potent than caffeine. My blood would boil and my brain would explode. I promise.

That, and it's eeky.

Something else happy: My friend Hannah (of the Blogarama) and I went into E-biz today!!!! Yay!!! We're selling tee shirts, bumper stickers, etc with v. cool designs on cafe press. So everyone go to www.cafepress.com/musicunites and BUY STUFF!!!!!

MUSIC UNITES!

I'm tired but it feels wrong to go to sleep when there's no school tomorrow. Yay for three day weekend.

So I totally had a Calculus "Quiz" (test) that I completely didn't know about. I think I did okay though. I think. I hate not being confident about math; especially since I'm starting to enjoy it. Math should be a bit predictable, you know, but somehow it just.... isn't.

So if you're still reading this after the thrilling paragraph on MATH......

We nominated people for Homecoming Court yesterday. I know I know, everyone's rolling their eyes and going "Stupid, why are you typing about this, I had so much respect for you (or not) and now I hate you, moron." But seriously, I have a point.
My class ended up nominating a bunch of girls who:

A) Are all fairly intelligent
B) Are all very nice people
C) Are not snobby at all
and
D) Overall *deserve* the appreciation of their peers.

I suppose what I mean is, I'm very impressed with how not-superficial my class is. But then, we *are* the good class. It alternates at my school. Ex: If the class of 2004 is "good" then the class of 2005 will be "bad". I'm not kidding. It actually works that way.

And now the (more) relevant things I have to say.

I went to defectiveyeti.com today and found that the author of the blog had an essay published on an online daily. I read it, and found that some people do very very much with their lives. Sometimes I'm afraid I might not be one of them. Because, you know, all 16-25 year olds are idealists who want to travel the globe spreading peace and love, but if everyone actually did it, the world wouldn't suck so much.

Along the same lines, a friend of mine reminded me of the AIDS crisis in Africa, and how he was thinking about starting a campaign soon to get local churches more involved. I very much agree with him; the church isn't doing nearly enough to help the situation. For more information on AIDS efforts in Africa, go to www.data.org.

Switching gears yet again, here's some random personal stuff:

Why can't you be a man?

I didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry.



And if that wasn't random enough, CAMPBELL 16 SUCKS!!!!!

I have a reason. Actually, like 6. Anyway, go to Goodrich 8 instead. Seriously. It's a conspiracy, and the amusement of whispering "Wehrenberg" isn't worth bowing to an evil empire.

Plus, Laura works at the 8. (Big discount, smily face)

So I made all-district choir, and I was in the top 25, which meant that I got to audition for state. I didn't make state, of course, but someone nobody expected made State Alternate, and I think some of the other seniors felt a bit usurped by this dark horse junior. It made me laugh. People can be so dramatic. Sometimes the egos in the choir room are more palpable than the frigid air. At least Madrigal is getting hoodies! Huttah! Maybe we can have them coated in a happiness forcefield that blocks out bad vibes as well as frozen choir-room-air. Hmm.... ::light bulb blinks on:: I feel a crazy entrepreneurial scheme coming on...

Anyway, it feels good to (supposedly) be one of the 25 best out of like, 130 sopranos in a 30 mile radius or something like that. Neato.