Hello hello!

I just attempted to publish something and it deleted it. So.

I went to dinner with Matthew awhile ago (with Neal and Renae, who were along to torment him), and during the course of those events, this is what was said:

"When we're 25, we'll see each other across a bar...and we'll date..."

Yes. That's when our grand relationship will start. If I haven't found better than him by then, I will become a lesbian.

And, for 100% honesty? I. Don't. Like. Him. He doesn't give me butterflies. He does give me angry hornets that buzz in my chest which make me want to kill him.

June has Dane wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything for her, whereas Matthew left me to fend for myself in a strange city and didn't understand why I was angry at him when I got un-lost two hours later.

[If this doesn't publish, anger will happen.]

Wow.

So apparently some sort of curse is sweeping Hollywood. First Ed McMahon, then Farrah, then Michael, and now Billy Mays. The last one is personally ironic, because last night at about 2:00 A.M., I turned the channel rather quickly because I didn't feel like listening to a boisterous salesman promote....something. That boisterous salesman, of course, was Billy Mays. Now I feel bad.

I'm not sure if I've told you about my friend Renae, so now's a good a time as any. I actually know her through Neal. We all went to the same elementary school, but Renae and I never really meshed. (Okay, maybe in kindergarten. I thought she was pretty.) In middle school, I thought she didn't like me so I tried to avoid her. I remember flipping out on her once during some class because she was touching me. But this spring/summer, the three of us have done a ton of stuff together. Renae is fun, she's unique, she is never boring.

So the lesson is.... well, there kind of is no lesson. But who says there always has to be one?

Speaking of Production Control...

The phrase "best friend" has been used way too much in the past 24 hours. Once in a way that made me slightly sad (apparently close friends doesn't equal best friends if you're married), and one that made me slightly happy.

I'm outta here.

"Why in the world does she do this to herself?"

In one year, I will be off to my place of higher education. When I go, things need to change. If I get to be a junior in college and still am hopelessly single, I am going to do something rash. Like actually make a move.

And it's not like I've never been in love. I have. I am. It's just that the object of my affections has an object of his affections. Married affections.

At the risk of sounding like a typical teenager, I kind of hate my life. Even though I'm not, I feel like I'm totally alone.

God. If this was in ten years, it would be sensical. But it's not. So I'm just gonna shut up.

Superfabulous?

So, I'm having a bit of an issue. I always complain internally when I never get invited to go do things, and then when I do, my uber-cautious side hops in with concerns and whatnot. Like tonight. Some girls and I are gonna go to the lake (skinny-dipping was mentioned...) and I suddenly have all these reservations.

It's funny.....as I'm typing this, they're going away. Hmm. Probably because, as Nate recently pointed out, live life without inhibitions. Never turn opportunities down just because they're different.

Okay, apparently I just taught myself a lesson.

And no.....I am not skinny-dipping Sometimes a few inhibitions are a good thing.

...now this just has to pan out.

An Unspoken Rule That Is Now Spoken.

Okay. This is a [very pathetic] thing that has irked me for quite sometime. You cannot call yourself a band geek and have that be it. Especially if you have little to no musical talent. It's like me calling myself a math nerd because I'm in two classes of it (don't even ask why), yet suck majorly. You have to let yourself earn the title. So adding a Facebook bumper sticker stating "BAND GEEK AND PROUD" is bad for many reasons.

Reason One (as stated above):
You are not a band geek until you do something other than proclaim it and take your clarinet home every weekened to [not] practice.

Reason Two (as not stated above):
Calling yourself a band geek gives a negative stigma to those of us that are and don't blow about it.

Reason Three (as stated below):
Actions speak louder than words. So can it, shut off the computer/GameBoy, and learn how to play some eighth notes.

College: The Next Great ISSUE.

Here are my options that I have set up. They're purely self-imposed, so they are subject to change without warning.

• Stay close to home, thereby not bankrupting the family so I can get some worthless (again, no one's words but my own) musical theater degree. (I don't look like an actress. I need contacts. But that's a whole OTHER thing.)
• Go far away, enjoy the locale, and pay off loans for eighty bazillion years. (And bankrupt the family.)

Is it pathetic that I truly want someone who's madly in love with me to knock on my window, beckon me out, and we'll trek off to the great beyond to pursue our bohemian dreams (or at least mine---he can go be a lawyer or whatever his little heart desires)? He'll have to be educated in the ways of music. Seriously, that trait makes me swoon. If you can judge key and time signatures by hearing three seconds of a song because you have learned it, not because you are some musical freakzoid who puts no effort into anything (MATTHEW)....yes, I will fall deeply in infatuation.

So. If any of you know someone 17-25 (or older, I have no age limit) that, after your scanning of this piece of internet babble and critique of my persona, would enjoy me, lemme know. Let him know. I am very sweet under the tangy exterior.

So. [A needle pulling thread!]

There's this girl named Darina. And she absolutely hangs off of Nate. It's bad. It's not as bad as Anne, but it's still terrible. She lurks and talks and he doesn't know her. She's talked to him 3 times in her entire existence. What makes her think that---that---that----argh, never mind. It's a good thing that this was his last appearance at my school, because he's one inch away from being molested by his fans.

Deep Thoughts

Spring formal is fast approaching. It's tomorrow, and I'm excited. Excited to see Caryn, excited to flaunt my outfit (honestly straight outta Baz Lurhmann's imagination), excited to commune with Nate, who is my escort.

This is what I was thinking last night---all the stuff about sex on prom night? Is implausible. Think about it. You've got the complicated clothing. Maybe a body shaper. Your hair's done, your makeup's nice. Are you really gonna wanna mess that up? Plus the fake fingernails...hello! Claw marks, anyone? Plus, if you go to my school, you have to be accounted for every freaking second of every moment, so sneaking off to a hotel room might not be the easiest thing to do.

Happy happy joy joy!

So I realized I've been quite negative in my previous postings, which I really hate. So here, for the enjoyment of...well, I'm not really sure who, are five things that I am happy about.

1. Somebody just uploaded a bunch of Doctor Who episodes onto YouTube. (I'm not sure why I like that show. It's not for the aliens, that's for sure. I just kinda skim over them. Ahhh...wait. I know. David Tennant and his quirkiness. That's why.)
2. I talked to Nate today for half an hour, and he made me realize how much I appreciate him. Not through any big thing. Just for being him and being a decent sounding board (for really not-important things). For being someone to talk to. There we go.
3. My paper for The Glass Menagerie that I spent zero time on earned praise from my English teacher. He was very impressed. Feh. He should see this piece of wonder.
4. Caryn, my best friend, is coming to visit for spring formal [which I still need a friggin' dress for]. I have missed her so much. She's quiet at first, but once you get to know her, she's got this sparkling wit underneath.
5. I do have friends, which is something I feel like I've been lacking in the past few weeks. They just live in inconvenient places.....or are my overworked music teacher.
   ....................................and you know what? One more bonus fact!
6. My hair, which I recently dyed and cut, looks kinda good.

The end!