Wanted: Song Selection. A Menu. Something.

So first off, a shout-out (I think that's hyphenated...) to Andrew--thank you so much for visiting my corner of the internet!

And secondly, I have spent the better part of the evening fighting with my new MP3 player. It's so stupid. And plastic. And flimsy. I need an iPod, because having to click s...l...o...w...l...y through 420 songs is going to take me longer than the trips I need (okay, want) it for. The only reason I wanted one was so that I wouldn't have to tote a CD player across three states. But having one's music all in one spot doesn't do one much good if one can never get to it!

And yes. The word of the day is "one."

Those who live in glass houses...

...should keep their mouths shut. But I've never been one to do that, so let's move on! And for an added emphasis, tonight's special feature is the indented quotation.

I should not be the one to say this, but you know what? I'm sick of
your excuses! If you're so terrible at getting stuff done on
time, then you are kind of in the wrong profession! And that's not even an
excuse! Why is it never okay for anyone else to take time doing
something but you can have as much time as you need? What the heck is
that about? Just make a decision and then live with it.

You wanna know something sick? Last week, I was somewhat in love with three guys. Now I don't know if I am anymore. With any of them. Nate verged dangerously on making me mad at him, Matt....well, c.f. the last post and educate thyself, and I'm not sure I want what June has anymore. It's typical. It's safe (which isn't necessarily a bad thing). It's what almost every woman dreams of and gets and then is stuck with. And that's a very negative way to put it. But I want to be different. I don't want to have to deal with family almost every weekend, and I certainly don't want to be building a life surrounded with the same people day after day, week after week, never getting anywhere and never doing anything better than average.

I feel like a terrible person for thinking this. So if anyone I know would ever stumble upon this little outlet of frustration, I am truly sorry for being offensive. But there are very few places in my life that I'm able to be completely honest, and this is one of those places.

And for those of you that I don't know but stumble across here anyway and take a peek into my head, thank you for reading. It's so strange--to think that people I'll never meet know more things about me than some people I've known for my entire life. It's kinda cool.

Lovebreaker!

You know what? I wish I had long fingers. Like looooooong ones. The ones that make piano playing at least look effortless. Long and skinny.



Sorry. I kinda think I have a fetish.



Oh, and I've got a story to share. Ever since my friend Karen transferred, she's been missing her people terribly. She wants to come back and visit for our spring formal/prom/whatever they're calling it now. Thing is, she needs a date. And no one is willing to help with that, since all of the guys she's friends with have the mentalities of eight-year-olds: "Oh no, a girl! Ew! Cooties! Do I have to kiss her? Grooossssssss!" So needless to say, finding her a quasi-date isn't going well, even though the facts are these:



1) He doesn't have to turn this into some romantic escapade.

2) He doesn't have to escort her in.

3) He doesn't have to talk to her.

4) He doesn't have to even acknowlege that she's even there.



How hard can this possibly be?!??!



But shockingly, there's even more. See, Matt was a really good possibility to take Karen for a long while. At least in her mind. But Matt has told me (well, I kinda finaggled it out of him, but whatever) that he wants to ask Layla. Remember Layla? (Pretty, went to the East Coast, apparently a much better actress than I am.) And Layla and I are friends (that keeps the envy under control). And I told her about Matt's secret longing (what? I cannot keep secrets, which the last few days have proved twofold), and she thinks it's funny. So she's not gonna say yes.



Oh, this is disasterous. But it's rather funny. I am so excited to be in the midst of typical teenage drama. Seriously, I'm relishing it.



The relishment of it could change, however, if Matt would get word that I told Layla (and about....hmm....seven other people, give or take).



Ah, well. Time will tell. I'm gonna go take a shower.

Issue Of The Week. Or Day.

(Or whatever.)

Dane and June (and Dune, their rapidly growing child). I'm friends with them, but I really wonder what's gonna happen. See, before, there weren't that many life barriers in between us. Go to college, get a job, get married. Only three. But now, with "have a child" added to that list, there's another. And it's a big one. And I'm afraid that they're at the point in their life that they don't want or need friends. They have each other and their nice little life and they're happy with that. The outside world is just an unneeded extra. And I am at the point in my life where I do want and need friends, and I'd like to include them.

The thing that makes me sad is that June, who goes back to work soon, has said point-blank that she doesn't miss her students. "They miss me, but I don't miss them" was the exact wording, I believe. And I get that. I really do. But given that I am one of Dane's students, it makes me wonder how important I really am. I'm gonna graduate and go to college and go through all the steps in life that he has, and I don't know if we'll still be friends. Like, real friends. Not just "Oh, I know her, so I'll say hi and chuckle for a few minutes and then leave to tend to my life." And I'm so afraid that will happen.

Goodness.

I feel a little unmotivated. Most likely because no matter how much I seem to think that I indeed understand algebra, I truly do not. Well....maybe it's not an understanding problem, it's an executing problem. You make one mistake and you're screwed, and I am the type to make mistakes.

I would like a friend. A best friend. Someone who's not in a position of authority over me or an acquaintance or someone I feel awkward around or is quasi-dating some slutbag (but that's another post). An honest-to-goodness friend who I love spending time with and can tell anything to. Not someone I want to strangle after an hour or who's too conservative. Someone that I'll meet in----let's all say it together----COLLEGE! Which is eight million years from now so I'm not even getting my hopes up.

And colleges look at GRADES, so I think I'd better go salvage mine.