It's college application time!

It's all anyone's been talking about for months, and I have finally "conformed" and joined the rest of my generation in stressing out over the college application process. Apparently my guidance counseler thinks that I am shoo-in (or is it "shoe-in"? I don't know..." for NYU. Now this makes absolutely no sense in my mind, but who am I to argue with my authorities? I haven't decided whether or not I shall apply, but that untouched application is sitting on my desk along with that of Ithaca college and Messiah college.

To be quite honest, I have pretty much made up my mind that I'm taking a year off to do an internship with either Teen Mania (Garden Valley, TX) or Master's commission (Spokane, Washington) before going to university. I'm not even sure if I'm going to bother applying to college this year for that reason. Until then, the college search goes on... and on... and on.

Sigh, I better get started on my Scott Thesis that I should have done last night instead of talking on the phone with Timmy until all hours of night. But He's more fun. Adios.

PS. I met the prettiest boy today in the guidance room. Tall, athletic, spanish, dark skin, dark curly hair... and blue eyes. BLUE EYES! I asked if they were contacts and he said no, and then we started talking about how he wishes he had brown eyes like everyone else and then of the injustices of the media-getting-you-to-conform-system and corporate america.
PSS. 5 days.


Quote of the day:
Matt: Hey beautiful!
Me thinking: Whoa... he actually called. It's a miracle. Perhaps the second coming isn't so far off.
Me saying: wefhkflsj hehehehehe.

I am an idiot.

It's college application time!

It's all anyone's been talking about for months, and I have finally "conformed" and joined the rest of my generation in stressing out over the college application process. Apparently my guidance counseler thinks that I am shoo-in (or is it "shoe-in"? I don't know..." for NYU. Now this makes absolutely no sense in my mind, but who am I to argue with my authorities? I haven't decided whether or not I shall apply, but that untouched application is sitting on my desk along with that of Ithaca college and Messiah college.

To be quite honest, I have pretty much made up my mind that I'm taking a year off to do an internship with either Teen Mania (Garden Valley, TX) or Master's commission (Spokane, Washington) before going to university. I'm not even sure if I'm going to bother applying to college this year for that reason. Until then, the college search goes on... and on... and on.

Sigh, I better get started on my Scott Thesis that I should have done last night instead of talking on the phone with Timmy until all hours of night. But He's more fun. Adios.

PS. I met the prettiest boy today in the guidance room. Tall, athletic, spanish, dark skin, dark curly hair... and blue eyes. BLUE EYES! I asked if they were contacts and he said no, and then we started talking about how he wishes he had brown eyes like everyone else and then of the injustices of the media-getting-you-to-conform-system and corporate america.
PSS. 5 days.


Quote of the day:
Matt: Hey beautiful!
Me thinking: Whoa... he actually called. It's a miracle. Perhaps the second coming isn't so far off.
Me saying: wefhkflsj hehehehehe.

I am an idiot.

Lunch time again. Dontcha just love my daily little visits coming at you from the rim of hell, more commonly known to unassuming people suffering from DJS (dumb jock syndrome) as Newtown highschool. Again, procrastinating a paper that needs to be approved by Ubair the gracious. Anyhoo, on to the update...

Last night, while sitting in Applebee's with Brig and Angie for a late dinner, Brig slides a "present" over my mucho mudslide and into my hand. Do you know what the said present is!? I tend to think of it, in some absurdly naive way, as an object of satan. First question posed to Brigitte: "What the hell!!??" Second question posed to Brigitte: "What am I suppossed to do with it!?" And finally, third question posed to Brigitte: "Oh god, this isn't some sort of permission slip, is it?" All three questions only got me weird looks cast at me by Brig, Angie, and various waiters. So this object of Satan is hidden in a little brown box in my room and just having it makes me feel guilty. Guilty... but kind of good. Mostly guilty though. Apparently, if I don't use it, as is my intention, my orders are to give it to someone who may need it... After all, "those things are expensive."

15 minutes until the end o' the period. I just kind of have to stick in quotes here and there to the article I showed Ubair the magic editing man on Wensday, should take me about 10 minutes to do. Hopefully. My fingers are raw from playing the guitar... I've been practicing this relient K song on my acoustic and I can't use a pick for it because of all the individual picking. I haven't practiced in a while, either, so my calluses were gone. My fingers bled. Doesn't matter though, never had very pretty hands. The hands of an artist... always covered in charcoal and paint and always cut or something because I'm not exadctly handy with a blade. Le sigh.

Anyway, this hasn't been the most entertaining post so I shall be going now. See y'all monday.

Count down to TX: 10 days.

An additional note: Giovanni apparently isn't letting any of his "hot" friends within a 10 mile radius of me while I'm over there. "It's not you I don't trust... its them. No Jen... No... Oh shutup, I'm going to sleep."

So here I am again, spending a fantasterific lunch in the school library. I should be writing an article on the backdoor draft that I have to give to Ubair in about 40 minutes, but we all know how much I love to procrastinate until 3 days after the last minute. It is the last possible day he can check and edit that article and if I don't get it to him, both of us will be excommunicated from the Tower paper office.

10 people are coming home in body bags today. 10 people killed in Fallujah during Operation Phantom fury. No one knows how many people who have been injured because apparently it has been deemed "classified information". I figure the reasoning behind that is that leaking out information can show some sort of weakness and lead to even more death. Outsiders think its no big deal... 10 isn't a large number, we are in war. But those are 20 people who just lost a child, 30 who just lost a best friend, and many more who have just lost a parent or a sibling. But 10 isn't that large a number, right?

Note to the not so wise:
If lately you have noticed me being an unreasonable, erratic jerk, keep in mind that I am PMSing. When I'm normal I overexagerate and am dramatic and unreasonable... but when I PMS its about 7.4 (yes, I've calculated it scientifically) times as bad. So if you value your life at all, it may be in your best interest to just avoid me for the rest of the week. Unless of course you are one of the following people and are completely used to my erratic behavior.

List of people who tolerate me:
Laura
Roma
Timo
Jessica
Matt B.
Brig
Marielle
Katy
Zinc
John
Marvin

Thank you. This has been a public service announcement.

Steve, don't be a jerk to me. Please. I didn't do anything to you so just leave me alone.

When does everything turn from "I love you" to "I want you"? Do they go hand in hand with one another, or does one take over the other? Is it possible that the 2 coexist peacefully? Is this only bothering me because I'm PMSing?

Why do bad things happen to good people? And why is it that when those things happen all that you can tell yourself is that everything happens for a reason? Well, what is that reason? Why is it thatthese things never make sense? All people tell me is that its okay, that it'll make me stronger. Well, how? Maybe thats all that can be said... Maybe the only thing that gets us through is the fact that perhaps theres something left to hope for. But why? I guess in times like these, without hope... what else is there?

I went to a party on saturday. Lots of dancing, lots of Reggaeton. Major ego strokes because all these really hot Puerto rican guys came up and danced with the skater chick. The last guy I danced with was a complete perv and he was all hard and he kept trying to kiss me. He bit my ear and stopped me from dancing and bent down and started to kiss my stomache. This would be when I pushed him away and went back to hang out with Bea and Valeska. gah. I am not a slut. And I have a... something or other... and gah.

quote of the day:
Matt: Okay girl, I'm late for work so I'll talk to you later.
Me: Okay, I'll talk to you later. Love you, bye.
Matt: Okay, bye.
*click*
Me: ring ring ring
Matt: Hello?
Me: YOUR ASS IS GRASS, MATT!!
Matt: huh?
Me: You didn't say it back!!
Matt: Yeah I did!! You hung up on me!!
Me: No you didn't!
Matt: I did so! This is such a stupid conversation.
Me: Excuse me!?
Matt: You want me to say it out loud? I LOVE YOU!!!! Happy?
Me: yes. Now go to work, you're late. bye.
Matt: Gah. Bye goober

I didn't go to school today. My dad had a seizure and I had to stay home to take care of him. I know I shouldn't post things like this for the whole world to see, but I'm scared. Everyday he gets sicker. I mean he snapped out of it by 11 am, but still... for a good 5 hours he was moaning and crying and in so much pain and he couldn't see. My dad was crying. He never cries. He cried again later when we were watching a movie. At the end, 2 people kiss... he covered my eyes like he used to when I was a little girl. I laughed and told him that it was okay, I'm not a baby anymore. And he cried. He said it was because I was growing up so fast and he doesn't think he's spent enough time with me, that he was a bad father. And now I'm "leaving" for college. How it hurt so bad when Scott went away, and now he was losing his baby girl. And he hugged me and cried. And all I could do was push his hair, streaked with gray, out of his face and hold him. I know he won't die... with his disease its more like 2 steps forward and 1 back. I know he'll be okay but I'm still so afraid. I feel like such a little girl sometimes. He told me that if he gets sick and gets put in the hospital I better not visit him, that he doesn't want me to visit and hold his hand while he's sick, but rejoice and visit and hold his hand when he comes home better. And that if anything happens to him I am to take Kimberly and move far away from here, so that she can have a better life. All of this talk scares me... it seems so unreal... like a dream, but one I cannot seem to wake up from. I know he's okay, but when he says things like that... I guess I just wonder if theres something he isn't telling me.

I don't know where I'm going with this. And I know some may see me as whiney and annoying. I'm just afraid... this stupid journal is my escape. Its like, maybe, if i can get these words out here... they won't be inside anynmore. Like I'm taking all of the fear out of my heart. I haven't even started thinking about college... so much is going on that I've lost track of so much. I miss my friends. I miss my art classes. I miss Mr. Johnson. I even miss Mr. Antinori. I don't know, you guys... I just don't know much of anything anymore... blah.

"To The Democrats
For all the ugly vitriol...

For all the lies...

For all the condescending bullshit....

For all the baseless accusations....

For all the idiotic conspiracy theories...

For all the name calling....

For all the mean spirited attacks....

Finally, for being a party of nothing but abject losers....

All I have to say is....

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

-courtesy of Mr.Helpful.com

Just an after thought. I don't know when [insert name here] got so freaking perverted, but I kind of want to punch him the face. I can only imagine how [insert name2 here] must feel... gah. Sometimes I wonder why I even care (not about name 2, about name).

I guess I'm still trying to reason things out, which leads to my lack of updates. I'm still not sure what to say. All that I know is that I need to write, I've been dying away without it. That little black book is the thing that saves me from myself. Scott is MIA, which thuroughly freaks me out, but I've been trying to just not think about it... concentrate on school and stuff. I suppose all of the wit that I once thought I had when it came to writing and satire has broken away, only to reveal a whiney little girl. Anyhoo...

I am pretty certain that I will definately be in Texas come thanksgiving, something a little nerve racking given certain elements *cough* Matt *cough*, but I am looking forward to it. I desperately need a vacation.

In other news, I have been eating nothing but candy corn since friday and am almost certain I have gained 72 lbs. Jessuh is going to Dutch-land to visit Edwin in January... for a whole month! What am I suppossed to do while she's in Dutch-land!!?? Who am I supposed to talk to!!??

I missed Mesiah's open house because my muffler fell out. Sigh. Sigh again. There's always next time. Speaking of college, I haven't the slightest inkling of where I'd like to go. This is very VERY stressful... gah. I have to come up with a portfolio in like a month, and I still need some still lifes, a really good painting, a self portrait, a pastel work, and a short film... and it all has to stand out from everyone else in the world. Like I said previously. Sigh.

My journalism portfolio is looking up though, 2 NY times articles, a washington post article, a few essays, and hopefully some work from J-Tribe and the Tower will be able to go in and I can fool some not so bright college admissions guy that I'm a good writer. I just hope my plan succeeds. Photo club should get me at least SOMETHING for college, and some of my AP work from last year was pretty good. I just need to do some touch ups.

Anyway I'm in the school library and must be on my way. Matt, you happy now? I certainly hope so.

much love <33