Pineapple Express a la Esa

Strangely enough, my eyes don't turn bloodshot when I smoke up.

I giggle like a maniac when I inhale the lingering scent on my shirt.

My favorite part is threading my fingers through the smoke tendrils that inevitably waft up and away into oblivion.

Flaming Lips is very nice to listen to when I'm mellowed.

And pipes are better--always.

Um, Yeah...

I finished my take-home exam for Sociology. W00t.

Now I have my 8-page paper for Performing Culture and my 4page paper for PSCI left.

...This is not cool. I will finish my work by Sunday. I will, goddammit. Just watch me.

~~

Also, the end of 2008 draws near. That means it will soon be time for my Ten People Post, otherwise known as Things I Should Have Said to People I Should Have Known Better. Hmm-hmm. It shall be exciting. I already have my list of people. The only problem is: how long will each blurb be? Or will I just word-vomit all over this page and get my feelings out in the open? Decisions, decisions.

I'm so fucking indecisive XD

I Am Here

I'm at home.

I haven't finished my Midd work yet.

Goal? Finish EVERYTHING by this Friday. Seriously?

SERIOUSLY.

Survivor: Middlebury College

I am leaving at 10 AM, Tuesday morning. I still have to:

- finish my 8-page seminar paper (2 of which I have typed)
- finish my 4-page Political Science paper (I have typed out a thesis statement)
- do 2 weeks' worth of laundry
- PACK
- and wipe/sweep/vacuum/dust my room

...oh, and return library books too.

O__________________O

I AM A SURVIVOR, DAMMIT.

Coincidence? Hardly. Divine Retribution? ALWAYS.

I am a dog wanting to be kicked by you over and over. And it's getting rather annoying.

Over the past two weeks you have said some cruel, tactless, careless comments that have really hurt me (and unnamed friend v_v). Today, you slid down Mead Chapel at midnight and flipped over a snowdrift, skinning much of your lips (and the immediate surrounding area) in the process. This Saturday you're going back home, where your Fuzzle Bunny is waiting. You know, I've never been the one to say it but I think this is an appropriate moment for me to start, am I right?

SERVES YOU RIGHT, BITCH.

Man, I feel so much better now.

A Complicated, Drawn-Out list of Things To Do Over Xmas Break

1. Go to Wal-mart and buy:
- chips
- candy
- gum
2. Go to H-Mart and buy:
- bottled drinks
- instant noodles. LOTS.
- azn snacks (YEHH)
3. Work some days at the restaurant (BLAGH)
4. Spend a whole day with Brittany (and night?)
5. Have Dana over at my house for a few days before Xmas
6. Go clubbing with my aunt one weekend night
7. Christmas shop ALONE (At The Avenue perhaps???)
8. Color my hair (Blue? Purple? BOTH???)
9. Buy more clothes for myself v_v
10. Visit DARworld (oh boy.)
11. Visit the Core Group of Friends (the two Ds, the H, blah blah blah)
12. Watch Twilight and Let the Right One in--then compare
13. Watch the various holiday movies opening over break @_@
14. Visit Chinese school
15. See Cho and Jerry at the food stall (perhaps even hang out with them?!)
16. Try new azn restaurant in Rockmart (Hibachi Grill...PFFT AHAH)
17. SO KONG DONG. 'Nough said.
18. Go to a couple more shows with Jes 2 and her gang--intrigue with the redhead?!
19. Decide my future with the 'rents O_O (finances, ground rules, spring break, etc.)
20. Keep up with ALL of my shows (the hardest one of them all...)

Eric, You Bastard

Waterworld

A year and a half ago, I tried to drown myself in the shower. I can remember--all too clearly--the moments that led up to my failed attempt and the murky, dazed aftermath that followed.

It was late May, and I was close to finishing my junior year in high school. It was dark, and my mother was driving for once instead of me (because you see, it had been an especially stress-filled Saturday, and I was tired.) We started off talking about what happened in school that week, and inevitably, we wound up discussing what I could have done better: i.e., participated in more extracurricular activities, signed up for more contests/competitions, applied for more scholarships, blah blah blah. This topic had been beaten to death over the past several months, but since she was the one driving, I let her talk until she was finished. However, I wasn't prepared for her closing statements, which were markedly different from what she had always said before.

"Look, Esa, I'll be honest. This year has been a huge disappointment. You have been a huge disappointment."

At first, my mind didn't register. Couldn't register. A few minutes dragged by before the meaning of her words actually sank in. I didn't know how to reply. Was I supposed to reply? And what could I have said, anyway, to make her feel better? In the end, all I could manage was a feeble "I'm sorry" that sounded more like a question if anything. My mother simply shook her head and shifted to third gear as we exited the interstate. We were silent for the rest of the ride home.

When we finally arrived back at the house, I helped her carry the groceries into the kitchen, where I then unpacked them, stored them in the fridge, and retied the plastic bags for later use. She glanced at me one more time, full of emotions I couldn't name, and quietly shuffled to her bedroom. I went upstairs to take a shower.

As I stood underneath the showerhead, I mulled over her last comment and turned the shower knob to increase both the heat and water pressure. The more I thought about it, the hotter I wanted the water to be until it was all but stripping the skin off of my red, raw body. Eventually, I started to cry. Eventually, it turned into sobbing. I had never sobbed before. I've cried plenty of times, but that night was different. It wasn't supposed to feel so intense, was it?

I've thought about this for a while, and have gone through many words in my head, but the only one that still--to this day--accurately describes how I cried in the shower is this: Racked. I was racking with sobs. Shaking, twisting, writhing on the tiled floor. I felt light-headed, dizzy, disoriented, and completely out of touch with reality. I can honestly say that not one single, coherent thought crossed my mind the whole time I laid there, naked and pathetic, as the water kept on burning me. For the longest time, I couldn't stop. The sobs would subside after a few minutes, but just as quickly flare up again; and had the episodes gone on indefinitely, I think I could have gone legally, clinically insane. It was hard to breathe, what with the snot and the tears and all that water (so much water.) It was my own little waterworld.

And that's when I tried to kill myself. To this day, I still can't find it in me to write out the actual experience.

I don't know how long I stayed in the shower, but everyone had gone to sleep by the time I stepped out. I felt so tired then.

~~

I'm not sure what made me post this. I still haven't told my mother yet. But I feel slightly more at peace. Better than nothing, right?

Before I Forget

I had a dream last night:

Christo was going to take over my side of the room and kick me out somewhere else come spring semester. Instead of one roommate, I had two more. My family came to visit, and my mom fussed over my moving out (even though I wasn't supposed to move out yet.) Dana was in my dream at one point, but the details are getting fuzzy. Oh, and Vermont doesn't looks like Vermont. It looks like Seattle.

...I think I've been watching too much Grey's Anatomy. XDDDD

I Have No Words

People are singing contemporary Christmas songs (i.e., Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas") outside my room.

I'm going to throw something if they don't stop.

Anyway, I'm still not done with my work (DURR), but I'm taking a much-needed break. I want to read a good, juicy book actually. Let the Right One in is very good, I heard. The movie too.

...IDEA!

Idea: Read the book. Watch Twilight the movie. Then watch Let the Right One in movie version. Compare and contrast. Hahahaha, more procrastination!!!!!!!

Swinging (But Certainly Not Dancing)

My mood keeps rollercoast(er)ing. Is that even a word? Oh whatever. I want to go home T_________T

1. Aww shit I have so much to do and how am I ever going to finish 2 papers, a problem set, 2 exams, a presentation, and a take-home exam, along with a bajillion other little things that are equally as important?! Can time just stop for me, please? I should have managed my time more wisely, but I dicked around YET AGAIN and now look at me! I'm going batshit insane whooooooooooo--

2. Ok. The paper is only 4 pages; as long as I have more hours than pages left, I'm fine. The other paper is just a revision and I have an entire weekend to work on it. The exams are a day and a half apart from each other, so I just can spend all those days (which is next week) studying. I've done it before; I can do it again. I can always bullshit the presentation, pssh right? Okay the problem set is going to be a bitch to do, but that's about the only really hard thing...I think. And as for the miscellaneous errands I have to run before I leave for xmas, they're just errands. I'm just making mountains out of those molehills (or however the fuck you say it.)

...

...

...and then after this rationalization, I remember the take-home exam and everything else comes tumbling after.

Go me.

Actually, just save me. Someone. Anyone.

All I Want For Christmas is...

...for the both of us to be caught underneath some mistletoe before we both leave for break. I really don't care what happens afterward.

Post-Thanksgiving Thought

I love my family.

Movies to Watch over Xmas Break

1. The Reader

2. Revolutionary Road

3. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

4. Changeling

5. Tropic Thunder (yes, I know it came out in August)

What's in a Name

I keep saying your name over and over until it no longer sounds like a word. Oh Freud: I've been a bad, bad girl. What are you going to do about it?

Let Me Count the Ways...

More abysmal writing at this hour. But I need to make this post. This whole week I've needed to make these ridiculous entries. I just do, or I will go batshit crazy.

You're so smart. Intensely, insanely, inhumanly smart. You're observant and perceptive, bitter and caustic, jaded and cynical...but you smile. You're all of these things and you still smile. Which means that there remains something about this life that you find difficult to let go of. Which manages to make you at least slightly understandable to me. Who was I kidding? You truly are out of my league.

The more I get to know you, the prettier you become. I'll admit: your nose is too big, your lips can be fuller, and sometimes when you duck your head you make an accidental double-chin. But flaws are what make people. So, your nose gives you character. The sarcastic quips you mutter sound so much better coming from that tightly pursed mouth. And I happen to like my women curvy. And these are just the abnormalities. I would need to write a novel-length entry on the good attributes.

And finally (God forgive me), you're blunt. You're harsh and don't mince words. You can be a bitch. You tell me like it is. You make no excuses. You're the most self-aware person I've ever met, and now I get it. At the end of this rant post, it clicked.

I'm smitten with you because you inspire me to write, that much is true. But the more important part is: I'm smitten with you because you're everything I'm not, and therefore everything I want to be. Wish I could be.

I stare at your door every time I pass through Hadley 3 now. It's far too much, and yet not nearly enough.

The Aftermath of a Storm

I am still slightly high as I write this.

Tonight you rejected me. It was harsh, and to the point. But we're still friends. I suppose I should take what I can get and be happy with it. Alright then. I will. I'm not giving up on you though.

You brought me out of writer's block and inspired so many angst-ridden posts about you. So I'll keep on looking at you, and thinking of you, and writing of you until I have milked you of all your creative worth.

And then I will find another muse.

Screw Tomorrow

Now that I've become even more aware of you, my paranoia has skyrocketed to new heights of absurdity. Every time you glance at me, my skin crawls and my throat goes dry--where did my damn bottle of water go??? I wonder if you know. I wonder if I'm that obvious. I can't be.

Right?

...no. It's definitely possible. But maybe that's a good thing because when we look at each other now, I sense you searching me, scrutinizing me, like you know something's off about our dynamic but you can't quite put your finger on it. And I will keep on behaving like a wind-up toy ready to spring until you corner me one day after class and ask me what the fuck is going on.

And that's when I know that it is time.

Loopy

I keep replaying the same scene in my head. It's Friday night at Bunker, and the both of us are properly buzzed and flushed. We're dancing side by side until the ever-shifting mass of bodies crowd us to the side where there is a smooth patch of free wall. In their lewd, drunken stupor, the rest of the college students won't let us back into the grinding, sweaty mess, and this is the part where we both laugh and I let my eyes drift over you in a completely unsubtle, do-you-know-what-is-going-on-inside-my-head-right-now sort of way. You're surprised and yet not surprised, so I don't hear any vocal complaint as I gently nudge you towards the wall. And for one long, torturous moment, neither of us say anything because I'm still wondering why I'm thinking instead of doing.

Eventually though, I give myself a mental kick and lean in.

And your lips are soft (so soft.) I'm also a damn good kisser in this particular fantasy, but the best part comes when I notice that you're not pushing me away. At all.

Then I jerk my head up and continue to write class notes in my binder as the professor rambles on.

The Part Where I Remember Why I am Bisexual

Aah, now I remember.

Deleted Scenes (only not)

I ran into you at breakfast today. You never come to breakfast. Why were you at breakfast today? You sat across from me and ate your blueberry muffin with a fork while I shoveled oatmeal into my mouth, wondering what else could happen. It took me longer than it usually did to finish my logic homework at the table.

~~

You slid into your usual desk (next to me) right before sociology class began, and I still didn't take off my earphones until you had pulled out your sketch book and busied yourself with an earlier drawing. Today's topic was Sigmund Freud, and I could count on two hands the number of times I glanced at you during discussion.

~~

As soon as class was over, I started towards the bench where you always have a post-sociology cig, but you stopped and reminded me of a previous appointment the both of us had. I mean we were attending the same workshop, but there was still a five-second pause devoid of any words before you said "see you later" and walked off.

~~

I immediately spotted you at the refreshments table, but I decided not to say anything until I had the right words in my head. As I was pouring tea into my mug, you leaned over slightly and said "I thought you abandoned me" with one cocked eyebrow. I looked up to reply, and--sure enough--the words died in my mouth.

~~

At dinner, you ate quickly and barely said anything. I laughed more boisterously than I should have the entire time and made sarcastic quips that weren't actually that sarcastic. When you abruptly got up and left (but not before throwing a smile at someone else), I crammed a slice of cake into my mouth and thought nothing of it.

~~

I am crazy. And obsessive. This is me being crazy. And obsessive. Behold.

You were the last person on earth.

I had no idea something like this would happen.

All I need now is for you to torture me in my dreams.

...no, then that means I wouldn't get any work done at ALL.

~~

The annoying thing about me is that when I have revelations, they aren't the quiet little moments which I calmly reflect upon. Rather, they manifest themselves in situations like this past weekend during haus, where we were dancing, moving, and throwing our arms around in time to deafening techno beats and disorienting strobe lights, where there wasn't a lonely body to be found and cans of Red Bull littered the back area.

That night I decided to finally, finally give in to my horny whims and commit all sorts of acts with the next person who found me. True to my word, I was pressing against a random college boy within a few minutes. And as he leaned down to kiss me, my mind was racing: Which assignments did I need to complete by the following Monday? Could I wake up early enough for my Sunday oatmeal? And why was there a crick in my neck all of a sudden?

It was supposed to be all-consuming and all-satisfying. It was supposed to make me tremble all the way down to my toes. It was supposed to remind me how to be a college student. Instead all I felt was a lukewarm tongue fumble its way around the inside of my mouth, thickly sluicing my lips as I hurriedly pulled away from him. Alas, I was meant to have yet another unfulfilled night then. I should have been used to it, but apparently I had reached my limit because I abruptly felt my eyes grow hot and dry.

Determined not to care, I made my way back to my circle of friends, who barely registered my discreet return. As I swayed and rocked my hips by myself, my eyes traveled from person to person, not really seeing, not really paying attention. At last, my gaze landed on you, and that was the part where I should have (would have) turned away and focused on another point of interest. I still did not notice it then.

It was the first time I saw you out on a dancefloor. Your breasts weren't spilling out of your top because you had on a sensible white tank that showed off your shoulders and brought out the glinting metal of the various pendants hanging round your neck. You weren't gyrating and writhing on anyone either because you were too busy twirling the glowsticks in your hands, lost in some other world. And while all the girls in that arena had strands of hair stuck to their red, sweat-slicked faces, you kept your hat on and wore a secretive half-smile that wouldn't leave your lips no matter how long the party continued.

It could have been any of those things. But it wasn't. It was everything else that led up to that electrifying moment of recognition: your dark, slanted eyes, the tight, neat line of your mouth, the generous curve of your chin, those hands that draw so amazingly well, and the low, even tone of your voice... By the time I realized what had happened to me over these past several months, I was so far gone I couldn't even remember what it was that started it all.

Shit. And I still had to face you in sociology three times a week until the end of the semester.

An Elegant Summarization of This Past Weekend's Events

"Who Knows" by Natasha Bedingfield

I'm in like with you
Not in love with you quite yet
My heart's beginning to
Slightly overrule my head

Oh no, oh no
My self control
It won't hold up for very long
Oh no, oh no
You touch my soul
I can't help falling too fast for you

Can you hold on a bit
Stop before we go
'cause I might need a moment
And I wouldn't wanna spoil it

Who knows if I am ready or not
Only time will tell
Who knows if we are ready to make this something
Who knows

Maybe this is love
But I haven't fallen in quite yet

Oh no, oh no
My self control
It won't hold up for very long
Oh no, oh no
You touch my soul
I can't help falling too fast for you

Can you hold on a bit
Stop before we go
'cause I might need a moment
And I wouldn't wanna spoil it

Who knows if I am ready or not
Only time will tell
Who knows if we are ready to make this something
Who knows
Who knows

Can you hold on a bit
Stop before we go
'cause I might need a moment
And I wouldn't wanna spoil it

Who knows if I am ready or not
Only time will tell
Who knows if we are ready to make this something

Who knows if I am ready or not
Only time will tell
Who knows if we are ready to make this something
Who knows

Who knows
Maybe, maybe not
Who knows
Maybe, maybe not
Who knows
Maybe I will, maybe I won't
Who knows

~~

And by the way, the haus party at Nelson Arena was beyond epic.

Uh...Look it's a Post!! (Where?! WHERE?!)

I don't have anything particularly interesting to post tonight, so I'll just insert a short thing I wrote in May:

Yesterday it was raining. I didn’t realize it at first because I was working inside, but at one point I looked out the window and saw the peculiar wash of orange and yellow that always accompanies the aftermath of a summer storm, like streaks of color trickling from the sky. Once the customers left, I slid the takeout window open and stuck my hand out. The air felt muggy and tense, still choked with moisture, and steam was rising off of the streets. Georgia hadn’t had a shower in weeks, but suddenly this one had came along, and I have a feeling that this is but the beginning of a steady series of abrupt summer interludes that will spot my final three months in hot, sleepy Rockmart.

It was a good moment.

/short thing

News (Or Five Things to Announce)

1. I turned 18 (FINALLY) on November 4, Election Day. OBAMA-RAMA WHOOOO!!!

2. I am not homesick anymore. Go me.

3. I now have cultivated a very dreaded habit of SNACKING 24/7 ARGH I'M BLOATING.

4. I have suddenly added at least 9000 new shows to my list of shows to keep up with.

5. I am still awkward-looking. Damn.


Until next time bitches!

Decisions, Decisions

I don't know what I want.

What the hell do I want?

Do I want anything at all?

Why am I so clueless?

Why is everyone else around me so sure of what they want?

WHY AM I SO FUCKING APATHETIC TO EVERYTHING?

SNL and I are Engaged

Art Taste Meme!!!

Your result for What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test...

Simple, Progressive, and Sensual

23 Ukiyo-e, 8 Islamic, 21 Impressionist, -27 Cubist, -27 Abstract and 11 Renaissance!

Ukiyo-e (浮世絵, Ukiyo-e), "pictures of the floating world", is a genre of Japaneseand paintings produced between the 17th and the 20th centuries. it mostly featured landscapes, historic tales, theatre, and pleasure. Ukiyo is a rather impetuous urban culture that has bloomed in popularity. Although the Japanese were more strict and had many prohibitions it did not affect the rising merchant class and therefore became a floating art form that did not bind itself to the normal ideals of society.

People that chose Ukiyo-e art tend to be more simplistic yet elegant. They don't care much about new style but are comfortable in creating their own. They like the idea of living for the moment and enjoy giving and receiving pleasure. They may be more agreeable than other people and do not like to argue. They do not mind following traditions but are not afraid to move forward to experience other ideas in life. They tend to enjoy nature and the outdoors. They do not mind being more adventurous in their sexual experiences. They enjoy being popular and like being noticed. They have their own unique style of dress and of presenting themselves. They may also tend to be more business oriented or at the very least interested in money making adventures. They might make good entrepreneurs. They are progressive and adaptable.

Take What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test at HelloQuizzy

I am a Fanfiction Addict (and that's okay)

Because I have nothing else better to write about, here are some more lists about couples I ship from various fandoms (no, you may not laugh. at least let me finish XP):

Harry Potter-
*Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
*Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
*Lily Evans/James Potter
*Harry Potter/anyone but Ginny Weasley
*Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
*Hermione Granger/anyone, really XD

Naruto-
*YonKaka (no, i am not explaining. yes, it is wrong on so many levels that i wouldnt know where to begin. shut up.)
*Hinata/Kiba
*Temari/Shikamaru <-- LOOOOOOVVEE

Teen Titans-
*Robin/Raven (starfire? who's starfire?)

Trigun-
*Vash/Meryl/Knives <--you know it's the only hot way to do it
*Vash/Wolfwood

FullMetal Alchemist-
*Roy Mustang/Anyone (geez, roy, youre such a whore XD)


Well, that's all I can think of for now, so I better get back to paper writing. Yeah, that's right: I was procrastinating this whole time. Surprised much?

Booze Turns Me Into an Idiot

I am the Designated Mother, the Designated Driver, the Designated Hair-Holder of One Who Throws Up. I am responsible, patient, and calm.







...Goddammit. I want to get drunk too.

~~

Okay, so maybe I should explain a bit.

I like alcohol. When I drink, I don't do it to get drunk, or to feel better about myself, or for any of those sorts of reasons. I just like the taste. I like the burning feeling of judgment-impairing liquid running down my throat and the variety of flavors and textures I can line my mouth with. I like the red, swimming sensation underneath my eyes.

To a certain extent. And then I realize that I'm slowly losing control and that I should definitely stop.

I hate losing control, by the way. I hate not knowing what I've been saying and doing, or being aware and not being able to stop myself.

~~

So how the previous post relate to the first one? Hmmm, I had a nice segway at one point, but then I forgot so...let me think for a moment.

................

Nope. I'll just have to get back to you later.

Maybe...or Maybe Not

Am I angry?

No, that can't be it.

Am I jealous?

Yes and no. Actually, yes, but not in the way you're thinking of.

Am I sad?

No, I got over that a long time ago.



So what is it?

Aah, I know. I'm frustrated. I'm annoyed. I'm...possessive.

I keep thinking I own you. That I am the original owner and will therefore always have a special sort of hold on you that no one can explain. Yes, I am irrational like that. But you have moved on. Totally. Completely. Without my say. You are footloose and fancy-free while I am still stuck in my dark little corner, so far down under I can't see anything to save my life.







So can you blame me?

Really, tell me.

Because I Could Not Be More Pathetic Even If I Tried

Home is where the heart is.


Dammit.








So be strong. Please be strong.

[Insert Title]

At this very moment, three words come to mind -

1) self-doubt

2) uncertainty

3) anxiety




Q: Why the hell am I making a blog post on a Saturday night in college?

A: For precisely the same reason I skipped my senior graduation party to watch movies with my mom.

For the Love of God, WHY?!?!?!

Political rant is coming...right...now:

WHY SARAH PALIN WHY?

After three devastatingly hilarious interviews in which Sarah Palin made a dumb-ass of herself on national television, I realize that these encounters were not only funny, but downright scary. If McCain wins this election, this hockey mom will be--to quote Cafferty--"one 72-year-old's heartbeat away" from the PRESIDENCY. The ACTUAL PRESIDENCY. As in McCain catches the flu in February and dies, only to be replaced by Palin, who can see Russia from her house and "acts increasingly adorable when cornered." (thank you Amy Poehler) Let's face it: her answers run in a never-ending circle of "tax reductions" and "job creation" that make me dizzier than the teacup ride at Six Flags. She acts cute and folksy to charm the voters. When comments pour in about her daughter's pregnancy and her own special-ed baby, Fox News (and don't even let me get started on THEM) and various supporters claim that people are "being sexist" when just a few months ago they were giving Hillary a hard time for having some emotional moments, telling her not to use the "gender card." ARGHHHHHH.

And to think I once thought Obama was too green to run for president. You got my vote now, dude.

/rant

Why I Love SNL

Middlebury: Must Make Pros List

1. MOQA - Which stands for Middlebury Open Queer Alliance. At last, I can reveal my true colors!

2. Dining Halls - Which has amazing food every day. And the chocolate milk is to die for. I'm going for more ice cream, freshmen 15 be damned.

3. Not Working - At least for this semester. No more bitchy customers, no more last minute shifts, no more itchy scratchy green shirts...

4. No Helicopters - Helicopter parents, that is. I may sit on my ass in front of this screen all day if I choose to do so.

5. Independence - I'm making decisions on my own all the time now. Well okay, it's a good thing most of the time anyway.

Things to do While Procrastinating

1. Cleaning out your inbox

2. Making flash cards for a class

3. Making your bed

4. Organizing the folders on your desktop

5. Making playlists on iTunes

6. Taking out the trash

7. Pulling hair out from your brush

8. Filling up your personal planner for the next two months

9. Contemplating your navel

10. Making a list of things you actually need to do (as opposed to a list of things you can always do LATER)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Suggestions are welcome.

My Political Stance?

You are a Social Liberal (66% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (35% permissive) You are best described as a: Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also : The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

A Metaphor Of My Life

This is what happened during Convocation at Middlebury a few days ago:

During the president's address, there is a cane that is passed around the first year students. Legend has it that the cane, once used by a very venerable professor at Midd, possesses "magical powers" and "good luck" for anyone who touches it. So, the cane goes from freshman to freshman, each n00b getting his or her own chance to have an awesome time during college or accomplish something huge here. The cane eventually makes its way to me.

I have no idea what the hell this long piece of wood is doing in my hands (haha, insert sex joke here, here, and here.) I look at some of the freshmen, bewildered as to what I am supposed to do next. Frustrated, a girl sitting next to me simply yanks the cane away, absorbs her share of good luck, and gives the cane to the next lucky guy.

And that, my internet audience, was a dead-on summary of my high school career. I don't even know when opportunity will come my way until it's right in my face, flashing its goodies before me, and even then--! I will sit there, dazed and confused, and go: wtf? Who are you? Opportunity will then become pissed off and move on to someone more deserving of its gifts.

And I am still sitting there. Wondering. And when I realize what has just happened, it will be too late. It will always be too late.

Good night.

Ten Reasons Why I Could Have Stayed in Georgia

1. flooding the House of China

2. driving across the TRIANGLE SQUARE empty parking lot on a summer weekday afternoon

3. Waffle House appointments

4. So Kong Dong, My Korean Restaurant of Paradise and All Things Wonderful

5. Hiram movie nights

6. blaring The Dark Knight soundtrack in my blue Honda Civic every time I drove

7. Sunday buffet at Chopsticks

8. Hot and Sour soup with steamed rice

9. Bumming at the Library

10. CHESTER'S HOT FRIES


I'm gonna miss this.

One Week...One Week...

I am moving to Middlebury College in one week.

Out of the 5000+ people in Rockmart Ga, only four know of its existence.

I could have chosen Emory: sunny, friendly, and in Atlanta.

I will soon be living in Vermont, two 3-hour plane rides and an hour drive from home.

Um...Yes.

WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING BACK IN MAY??????



Okay, deep breaths. I know this is last minute jitters, but until I shake them off a few days from now, saying goodbye is going to suck. Expect to see a List Post within the upcoming days.

The Dark Knight -- yeah that's right.

Okay so I watched The Dark Knight today with my best friend, and words cannot describe the sheer Awesome and Epic Win this movie is made of. I also downloaded the soundtrack, and the music contained therein is SEX. No, it does not sound like sex; it is sex. Anyway, I have just watched the most hyped-about summer flick of this year and now everything after it is simply an added bonus(es).

Come on Jesus, bring on the Rapture. My life is now complete.

Um, Okay.

Okay so...I didn't go to the senior party two nights ago. That's okay though. Right? I didn't have an obligation to; there will always be plenty of other parties like that in my post-secondary educational institution. Righto then.

I watched movies with my mom instead and NO I AM NOT LAME thanks very much ^_^

Hello, all

I don't know why, but I decided to open up a new blog. That is to say, I'm bored, and I need to post my writings someplace other than fanfiction.net aka Pit of Voles. So here it is. The Pants Blog. Or Whatever You Want to Call It Blog. You know what, I--

Whatever. I don't know what else to say here. Bye for now. I probably won't update until sometime this summer.