It snowed today. Lower to mid-30s all afternoon. I saw a guy wearing shorts. I wanted to hit him.

I love it when the weather changes drastically from day to day. I spent all of reed class last week scraping on $100 worth of reeds so they'd sound good, and now none of them play well. Darn unpredictable weather. I bet I'd be a better musician if I lived somewhere dry and warm.

I skipped Psych this morning. I was tired, and I have a lot on my plate for this week, so I figured I'd start it off by slacking off. I should have skipped Public Speaking too; it was worthless, as usual.

I'm asking for help on homework again. I need the titles of some movies that deal with job dissatisfaction (other than Office Space). I also need suggestions for a commemorative speech topic. It can be about an individual, a group, a movement, an idea, etc. I also need two extra days tacked onto my weekend. Can anyone help me?

I still haven't finished my Virginia Woolf novel for class tomorrow. I suppose I'll read it in bed; that should put me to sleep in no time.

All the snow had melted by dinnertime. It was sad. Now, everything is muddy and gross.

Yesterday, I saw friends I hadn't seen in AGES. Craig, Justin, and Tyler were all at church, and I sat with them. I suppose Justin isn't really a friend, although he was at one point in time. And I don't know Tyler well enough to call him a friend, but I always liked him well enough. (I hadn't seen that kid in years.) So really I was just excited about seeing Craig. Anyway, I'm glad they're all still alive and well; I worry about those boys. Always have.

I also got to see Kyle and Madi. And I talked to Steph on the phone for awhile. But this is all pointless, since none of you know who these people are.

This weekend, I found some CDs that Adam (my first love) burned for me years ago. They're really good CDs. I'd forgotten all about them. I'm glad I happened upon them.

Have you ever thought of something that you absolutely had to tell a specific friend about? Did you plan the conversation out in your head: exactly what you would say (diction, syntax, vocal inflections, even hand gestures) and how that person would respond? After planning the conversation, did you ever forget to actually talk to that person? That's about what happens to me every day. I observe things, analyze them, criticize them in my head. I mentally compose what I will later write about these people or occurrences or ideas. And then, I completely forget what I've recorded in my mind, so it's never recorded on paper. Or online, rather. That's how I end up with boring entries. By the time I get around to posting (usually in the middle of the night), I've forgotten all the amusing thoughts I've had throughout the day. I think it's early Alzheimer's, or something of that sort. Would that also explain the crazy massive headache I have?

My oboe professor gave a recital tonight. It was fantastic. I loved every second of it. Except the pauses between movements and pieces when my focus was off the music and back on my nausea. I sat by Tiffany and some trombone player that I see all the time but don't know at all. John and Dana sat in front of us. I don't like Dana. Tiffany doesn't either. We also don't like that John is dating her because she's all he talks about. Anyway, during intermission, John turned around and started teasing me. When he was finally done, Tif said, "Why didn't you hit him?" (since that's how I usually respond to John's ridicule). I said, "I don't know," then punched him in the shoulder. So Dana turns around to defend her lover and hits Tiffany harder than I would have thought she was capable of<--preposition at the end of a sentence!-->. Tiffany got really mad because she didn't even do anything, and I just sat there laughing. Later, Dana tried to make some sort of a short joke, which was really annoying. I don't mind being short, and it doesn't bother me when people tease me about, but I'm not friends with her. She's never been nice to me, therefore she has no rights to good-natured jests. I fake smiled in response to her attempt at getting a rise out of me, then turned to talk to someone else. Oh, she really gets on my nerves.

In conclusion...I'm done.

I just remembered that I left some stuff in my car that I need tomorrow morning. So I walked out into the parking lot (at 12:30) wearing Christmas socks (not toe socks...regular ones) and flip-flops, both of which clashed horribly with my outfit. Yeah, I looked like a goof. What's your point?

Instead of doing my homework tonight, I decorated. I finished our anal retentive Christmas tree about 20 minutes ago. It has tiny blue and pink balls on it; the blue ones are sparkly (yeah, that's a word), half of the pink ones are shiny, and the other half are matte. The balls are evenly spaced and organized according to color. There are exactly 20 small blue ornaments, 12 shiny pink ornaments, and 12 matte pink ornaments. There are also three larger blue ornaments with snowflake patterns, some white glass ornaments with snowflake patterns, one pink beaded snowflake, and one blue beaded snowflake. I added white curly-cues to fill in the bare spots. The only crappy part is the topper. As in we don't have one. All the angels were too big for our little tree, and the stars that were small enough were all tacky. We bought some ribbon, and I tried out my Martha Stewart skills by attempting to tie a fancy bow as our topper, but I failed miserably. (This is the part where I come to terms with my inevitable failure as a wife and mother, abandon my life's dream, and become a nun.) Maybe we'll find a nice angel if we go shopping in Columbia next weekend. And we need a tree skirt.

We also have a fiber optic tree, which should have been cool, except the colored lights draw attention away from the ornaments. Actually, you can't see the ornaments at all. They're really cool ornaments, too...Glass spirals of assorted colors. So Anna took them off the tree, strung some lights under her bed, and hung the ornaments from the light cord. Now the fiber optic tree just has purple beads and silver and purple curly-cues. School spirit all the way.

By the way, "curly-cues" means we bought those gift bows that are made up of curled ribbon, took them apart, and made ornaments out of them. Creativity. That's our college education at work, folks.

Warning: Long Post Following...

Thanksgiving wasn't as bad as I expected. There were only 17 people there, which made things much more pleasant. Grandpa was really cranky, though.

I don't remember what I did Friday, but I'm sure it was thrilling...Oh, wait...I went to the mall. That's right, I'm insane, and I went to the mall on the day after Thanksgiving. I was going to help Anna shop, but Aunt Donita got upset because my helping meant that her opinion wasn't good enough. Except that her opinion is always the same: "Anna, that's too revealing. We didn't raise you to dress that way. Wear a shroud. Or better yet, a nun's habit." Anyway, I only stayed long enough to see Aunt Donita crying and decide that I was too depressed to buy shoes. I went to my daddy's store so I could whine to him, then went home to hang out with my mom. Except my mom wasn't there, so I laid on the couch, all alone in the house, and wallowed in my misery. I watched "Freaky Friday" (the old one). When my mom finally came home, she had a chicken nugget Happy Meal for me. She loves me.

That evening, we had Nigerian cuisine at my grandparents' house. Then, Anna and I went with Court and David to hang out with Chris and a bunch of his Ash Grove friends. This was completely pointless, because we were fairly antisocial, as usual. Or I was, anyway. The Ash Grove kids kept playing this stupid game that's designed to make people feel stupid because no one ever explains the rules.

Anna left Saturday morning. I had lunch with Piper that afternoon, which was amusing. Two and a half hours of non-stop gossip--I think I said a total of eight words the entire time. I love Piper to death, but we're so different. It was good to catch up nonetheless. When I got home, my mom and I decorated a Christmas tree. I say "a" rather than "the" because my mother is Christmas nut, and we have over 30 Christmas trees ranging in height from 1 foot to 9 feet. (We don't put them all up every year.) I also arranged 10 of our gazillion nativities. I love Christmas.

While decorating, I watched the worst made-for-TV holiday movie in the history of the world. Seriously, it took cheesy to another level. Basically, Santa's daughter tries to sabotage Christmas, but her sister catches her and saves everything. So the first daughter gives the second daughter amnesia and sends her away from the North Pole. Second daughter arrives on the doorstep of "Touched By an Angel" guy and his two children. They all fall in love and want to get married. There's just one problem: Santa's daughter doesn't know who she is. Because of the amnesia, you know. And she doesn't want to get married without an identity. I mean, what if she was an ax murderer before she forgot everything? But then, her sister tries to sabotage Christmas again by selling pieces of the North Pole, advertising with a horrible commercial complete with annoying jingle. When "I-don't-know-who-I-am" daughter sees said commercial and receives a piece of the North Pole, she remembers who she is. Then, they all magically transport to the North Pole, except "Touched By an Angel" guy. He couldn't go because he didn't BELIEVE. Jerk. How could you not believe that your fiancee was Santa's daughter? Anyway, they fix everything, and he ends up believing, and they get married, but their parents fight at the wedding because one set are very reserved, refined people, and the other are Santa and Mrs. Claus. And they all lived happily ever after.

Later, I met Court, Dave, Chris, and the Ash Grove kids at the Mudhouse. We played more stupid games, but it was much more entertaining than the previous evening. When I got home, I did laundry and packed stuff up. I didn't go to bed until 3:30 (and by "bed" I mean the couch), and even then I couldn't fall asleep. Apparently I did eventually slip out of consciousness because I woke up at 7 this morning for NO REASON and couldn't get back to sleep. I just laid there for a couple hours, then got up and got ready for church. I walked outside at 10:43 and got in my car. At 10:44, I walked back inside and informed my mother that my car wouldn't start...AGAIN. So she took me to church and called my dad, who then snuck away from work to fix my car. Good times. Something about a battery cable being loose...

Needless to say, I managed to make it back to school. So here I am, avoiding the loads of homework I have to do...

Ooo-De-Lally

So I'm watching Oprah today, and my sister walks in. She looks at Oprah's guest and says, "Who is that? He looks familiar." After studying her facial expression for a couple minutes to be sure she wasn't messing with me, I replied, "That's Jim Carey, dear." She said, "Oh," and watched for a few minutes. Then she said, "So what does he do?" It was a sad moment.

There seems to be some sort of mold infestation in my room, which is located in a corner of the basement. Every time I walk in, I start sneezing uncontrollably and my eye itch and water. So while I'm home, I can't even sleep in my own bed. Sad.

It was a relatively uneventful day. I slept in past noon, which was good since I didn't get to sleep till around 4 this morning. Unfortunately, it also made me late to pick Emilie up from girl scouts, which made us both late to the salon. Yeah, my mom asked to pick Em up and take her to the salon with me so she could get her eyebrows waxed while I got my hair cut. I was intrigued by the thought of Em getting her eyebrows done, as I had never been allowed this luxury. When I inquired about it, my mother responded that Emilie was too wimpy to pluck. Bah. I said, "You know, it hurts an awful lot to wash my feet. In fact, I'm too scared to do it myself. You'd better pay for me to get a pedicure." She laughed...But I wasn't joking.

Every time I come home, I have an intense bout of middle child syndrome. It's really frustrating, and my parents are not in the least bit sympathetic. It's especially annoying that my sister thinks the world needs to revolve around her, and so refuses to let me spend time with my parents or even converse with them without interrupting and turning attention to her.

I think I'll stop coming home.

We had Thanksgiving with my mom's family tonight. It was Em, the 'rents, the g-'rents, Aunt Pam, Uncle Kenny, and their 6 year old, Kenna. I love Aunt Pam, but Kenny drives me insane.

Dinner wasn't exciting because I wasn't hungry. Which is sad because Grandma is a FABULOUS cook. My other grandmother, who we'll be dining with tomorrow, is not quite as impressive.

Yes, tomorrow, we tackle the Locke family Thanksgiving. How many of us are there?...Without Uncle Alan's family, I predict the final count will be 25ish. And all of us will be crammed into my grandparents' overheated, one-story house. With one TV. Not that that matters, since the TV always has to be on either football or Nickleodeon. I can't wait.

Now, I'm watching Robin Hood while Anna sleeps on the pull-out bed. Yes, Anna and I failed to escape one another during break. Poor Anna; she only gets to spend half of our break at home.

Mel Brooks is a genius.

I'm home now. It was almost impossible to get here.

As I was loading my suitcase in my trunk this afternoon, I noticed some that some people in the next row over were having car trouble. A guy I knew was trying to jump their car. I kept thinking about how sad that was, and I started praying for them. Just kind of a "Come on, God. It's the holidays and they want to go home. Help 'em out." I went back into the building to grab a couple more things from my room, and when I came back to the parking lot, they were gone. I was glad. Then, I got in my car. And, of course, it wouldn't start. I'm actually really proud of myself...I was upset, but I didn't panic or overreact. I called Chris, and he came to rescue me. I don't know what the heck he did, but he is a MAGICIAN. He made my car start! Yay for boys knowing about mechanics and technology and all that other crap I try to avoid.

So I'm driving along, singing and happy, when somewhere around Lake of the Ozarks, there was a sudden downpour. Yes, I like how it waited to rain until halfway through the journey when I was tired, and the sky was dark, and I was surrounded by bright lights, because that doesn't make it impossible to see the lines on the road at all. In fact, I wish it would happen like that every time.

What made it even more fun was the fact that my windshield wipers don't work very well. Fortunately, they actually swept across the entire windshield. (They usually get stuck halfway across.) However, along with the wiping came a terrible, high-pitched screeching sound. Imagine nails on a chalk board for AN HOUR AND A HALF. I tried to distract myself by singing every Christmas carol I know, then just turning my music up really loud, but to no avail. My headache grew so bad that I actually thought I was going to black out. So, again, it is miraculous that I am here to complain about my horrible driving experiences to all of you.

When I finally arrived home, it seemed as though no one was here, with the exception of my sister. But Emilie isn't really much help when it comes to transferring my 85 lbs of laundry from the car to the laundry room. Anyway, 20 minutes later, as I dragged my suitcase up the last of the front porch stairs, my father made his entrance. He'd been in his room the entire time I was lugging things back and forth between the street and the house! Grr...

Then, I walked into my room. It's a mess! All the things I sent home with my parents on Family Weekend are strewn across the floor and my bed...Which means that I have to spend tomorrow cleaning before the family shows up. Because I don't have anything else to do during the grand total of five days I'll be in town.

Oh, well. At least there's food here.

And for David, who needs an explanation for every title: I'm watching "Spaceballs".

High School, Heartbreak, and the Curse of Adolescence

The water main to our building broke. So our water is off "until further notice". I'd better be able to get a shower tomorrow...I didn't wash my hair this morning, and it'll be disgusting by then.

Why am I not packing? I plan to leave around 1:30 tomorrow, after class and lunch with Sabrina. And I definitely won't be getting up early enough to pack before class. ::Sigh::...I always have trouble getting my priorities in order.

Attractive-12-year-old-graduate-assistant-conductor is directing my Wind Symphony pool now. His name is actually Nathan, and I will refer to him as such since it's much easier to type. But just know that if I were speaking out loud, the former label would be used. Anyway, he's a phenomenal conductor. I really like him. Unfortunately, Ali (other oboist) and I have suspicions about his sexual orientation. He dresses very well, and he has the whole sensitive musician thing going on. Neither of these actually brand him "Homosexual", but he has a friend who sits in on our rehearsals every once in awhile. An excessively attractive, well-dressed, clean cut friend who has no reason I can conceive of to be there except to support Nathan. Does your typical guy buddy come to band rehearsal to be supportive? I think not. Correct me if I'm wrong.

It's just sad that all the good ones swing the wrong way.

On a serious note...

I've talked about how I hate finding out people are fake. But I also hate it when they start off genuine and then change. I hate watching people change for the worse. And it's not like there's anything I can do about it. If I say anything, the persons in question will take offense, or they'll think me judgmental, or say it's none of my business and push me away, or simply ignore me.

Why do people forget what's important? Why do people let their values deteriorate for the sake of appearance? Status, popularity, "coolness"...In the end, none of them matter. I can't stand the superficiality of youth, and I wish everyone would just get over being so shallow.

Being young is about living life to the fullest. It's about forming your identity, not abandoning it. It's about being who you are and not who everyone else wants you to be. And it's about learning important lessons, not avoiding what life has to teach us.

Don't get me wrong. I'm vain and judgmental, and I can be plenty shallow at times. But I don't forget that there are deeper things. I don't forget my morals, my dreams, my future, my purpose...I don't forget myself. I don't understand how anyone could suppress their spirit just to feel good for a little while.

And now I'm done.

I have a Xanga account now. I set it up so I can comment on Misti's and Bailey's and Madison's journals, even though Misti is the only one that actually reads mine. That's okay, I'm a good friend even if my friends aren't...If that made any sense...Anyway, I'm also going to use it to write the mean things I think about all of you that I can't post here because you'll read them. Yeah, that's right. You'll never know who I'm bashing...Okay, I'm kidding. It'll probably be the same posts seen here, copied and pasted. Or will they? Mwahahaha...

I think I'll pack now so I can go home ASAP.

Tinyhands, you had better freaking read this.

Dear Tinyhands,

Disclaimer: Please don't read this entry with the wrong impression. The tone is dry...A monotone, if you will. No anger.

Due to recent humiliation, I have spent some time this evening educating myself on the subject of "Beatles hits". I was previously ignorant, but the situation has been somewhat rectified, so you and all of your friends can stop hating me.

If I were to go on a talk show (Oprah), these are the Beatles songs I believe would be fitting for my entrance:
-"Love Me Do"...A desperate plea for love. How could that not be about me?
-"Can't Buy Me Love"...Another sentimental song about how money is worthless and love is all we need.
-"Yesterday"...About a failed relationship and how things were better in the past. Things were always better in the past...
-"Something"...This was Anna's suggestion. I don't remember what the song was about.

My unfamiliarity with the Beatles does not make me an imbecile. I realize they were the greatest band of all time, but I wasn't raised listening to them. I like what I have heard of them, but I really haven't heard that much. I'm only 18, you know. I have plenty of time to discover great music. Besides, I really do have fabulous taste, and I'm cultured in many ways despite my ignorance.

I still don't understand why we have to pick Beatles songs. Really, the Beatles just don't say "Heather". Given the choice of any song, here are a few that would be in contention:
-"Steppin' Out with my Baby"...Tony Bennett's recording.
-"Woman"...Maroon 5.
-"Everybody Loves Me, Baby"...the great Don McLean.
-"Fat-Bottomed Girls"...Queen, of course.

Love,
Heather

And P.S. I DO get it. But thanks for playing. And what movie is that line from? It's driving me insane..."I just threw up a little in my mouth"...

The football game was HORRIBLE. When we left (during third quarter), the score was 28-0, Kansas. And it was so cold...

I got no sleep last night, so driving home was interesting. I nodded off about every five minutes the entire way. It's a miracle I made it back without any unfortunate occurrences.

I just had a #7 from McDonald's. It was not good at all. The fries were ridiculously salty, and I think a little piece of onion snuck its way into the lettuce on my chicken sandwich...However disgusting it may have been, it was very satisfying, because previous to eating it, all I'd had today was toast.

I'm so going to bed.

I just typed a really long, fabulous post...Actually, it wasn't very long, and it sucked, but that's beside the point...And then David told me to do something that deleted it...So now it's gone.

It was about how I'm in Columbia visiting David and Chris. Court isn't here, though, and I miss her. Umm...We ate and played Catchphrase (it wasn't the same without you, Court) and went to a coffeehouse that was like the Mudhouse except not as good...And now we're watching stupid cartoons. And the boys are trying to read Virginia Woolf aloud, which is somewhat amusing.

I'm having lunch with my brother and his girlfriend tomorrow, and then David and I may go to the MU vs KU football game with Alex Roark. Fun, fun.

I'm about to pass out at the keyboard...

I kicked British butt on my Lit paper. Who needs math when I can analyze art?

Walking home from Bible study, I drunk in the crisp autumn air. It smelled of burning leaves.

Everyone should experience fall in the quiet Midwestern countryside.



To the mean commenter of November 7th:


Dear Sir or Madam,

Bite me.

Love,
Heather

P.S. Thank you for reading.

Logarithms kick my butt.

I just gave my persuasive speech, and it was KILLER. And I looked freakin' hot for it.

Unfortunately, I have as yet found no such success in College Algebra.

I'm watching the Jeopardy College Championship. Alex Trebek drives me insane!

Familiarize yourself with my post from November 7 before reading this next session. )And read the comments there, too. Someone left a really mean one.)

Some guy actually e-mailed me with a proposal. He assured me he could provide a resume and photo portfolio, but he requested that I help him perfect his application. He claims to be a scientist, although his writing reflects nothing of the sort. I really hope he was joking, because it would be sad if he wasn't. If nothing else, it gave me a good laugh. Maybe he left the mean comment...Grr...

I've had several interesting revelations over the past few days. Some more important than others, and none that I'm inclined to share.

We took personality tests in Psychology yesterday. I scored very high on "openness", and moderately high on "extravertedness" and "conscientiousness". I scored fairly low on "agreeableness" and ridiculously low on "emotional stability". I fail to see how any of this is new information.

I've taken tests of this type before, and I was never surprised by the results. Not even the first time. I guess I know myself pretty well.

I was a little worried about admitting my extreme emotional instability to the class, but my professor calmed my nerves. She told us that people who scored high on "neuroticism" (aka, low on "emotional stability") are actually rated more interesting than their low scoring counterparts. So all of you emotionally stable people out there are dull.

Speaking of dull, I've had numerous complaints about how boring my blog has become. Mostly from myself. A couple were from Sean, but his opinion doesn't count because his comments suck. And because he pierced his ear. And because he rated Destiny's Child over Michael Buble. Who does that? Anyway, I'm sorry. I don't like being boring. But I also don't like creating my own excitement. I like for excitement to find me. So, if any of you happens to be named "Excitement" or "Danger" or "Anything But The Condition Of My Life At This Point In Time" (if your name is the latter, I'll assume you're foreign), please contact me.

And just to clarify, I didn't really mean any of that. I don't really want you to contact me. Because your name isn't really any of the above listed. So please don't write to me telling me you can give me a good time or anything sick like that. Also, marriage proposals will not be taken seriously. Restraining orders, on the other hand, will.

The end.

Juicy Fruit doesn't really taste like fruit.

Pretty gay guy dyed his hair dark.

I registered for classes this afternoon. Although I couldn't get into a couple of classes I wanted, I'm not enrolled in anything completely worthless. Just a lot of gen ed crap.

Today was a really good day until my last class was over. I was in a really great mood, and I couldn't stop smiling...But it just left me all of the sudden. There was no reason...I don't know what happened.

I can't be cynical when I'm happy. Or when nothing is happening. Someone should make me angry so I can bash them.

I have to go to a double reed recital now. I'm not performing. Hallelujah.

I just Googled myself, because I'm a loser like that. Actually, I just don't know what to do with free time because I don't generally have much. Anyway, only 4 sites out of 482 had to do with me, and they were all band-related: Distric band, State band, school concerts...I had hoped there would be something more interesting than that. Oh well.

I also just realized that some of the penguins on my pajama pants have orange beaks, and some have red beaks. They all have red feet, though. Intriguing.

Ah, Saturday

Anna had to get up freakishly early this morning to go to Macon for deer aging. (Don't ask, it's gross. Let me just remind you that we live in a remote small town in Missouri, and deer season opened this weekend.) So she left at...I don't even know...7? 7:30? Anyway, she usually gets up around 9 or 10, so I generally manage to drag myself out of bed around 10:30, just because she's awake. Which is good. I shouldn't waste away my day in bed. But I've been o sleep deprived lately that I really needed to sleep in. So I didn't get up until 12:30, and even then it was only because I had to pee. So it's about 2 now...I just got out of the shower...And it's looking to be a long, unproductive day. Yay!

I'm listening to Tony Bennett's recording of "Fly Me to the Moon"...Possibly one of the most romantic performances ever.

Oh! And I've been meaning to mention this all week. My friend, Stephanie, called on Wednesday to tell me she's leaving for basic training next week. Her going into the armed forces worries me a lot, but she's been waiting a long time for this. Plus, she really needs the discipline. Please pray for her.

Tonight was a good night.

Anna and I went to the Sigma Alpha Iota progressive dinner. I was more comfortable at this rush function than I was at the last. Maybe after a couple more, I'll really feel a part of the group.

I ran into a girl there who went to Kickapoo. She was a senior when I was a freshman. And Stephanie Blair (Michael's sister) goes here, too. I actually saw her the other day, except I didn't think it was her because I didn't know she was at Truman. And because she was carrying a toddler...

After dinner was John's junior recital.

That was over around 8:15, so Anna and I stopped by Chris's room to see about hanging out. Except that one of the guys that lives next door to Chris is named Chris, and I wasn't paying attention to room numbers. So, after knocking, I kind of walked into the room of some people I didn't know. The guy in there gave me a really weird look when I said, "So I guess Chris isn't here?" He replied, "No, he's in the lounge." So we looked in the lounge, and he definitely was not there. Actually, he had been sitting in his room the whole time, but we didn't realize that because we didn't realize we'd knocked on the wrong door. Oops.

So we came back to our room and called him. He came over, and I made him watch my tape of Joan of Arcadia. (Did anyone else watch it tonight? Judith died! She actually DIED! I can't believe it...I cried.) Then, we borrowed School of Rock from Jamie and invited her over to hang with us. And Katie came, too. And somewhere in there, we ordered a pizza...It was mucho fun.

It was good to see Chris. He only comes around about once every two weeks. He promised he'd check my oil next week, though, so I guess that'll up his average...

And tomorrow, I'm going to sleep in hard core. Anna has to go to Macon (about half an hour away) for some weird biology project...helping hunters figure out how old the deer they shoot are...So she'll be leaving mucho early for that. And she won't be back till around two. So I'm just not going to get out of bed. It's about stinking time I got a break. I'll have to work tomorrow afternoon, though. Ah, well. No rest for the weary.

Awkward-Core

I just had the most awkward experience of my life. I was standing in line at the post office, waiting to mail my all-collegiate orchestra audition tape and watching the two little kids in front of me, when Nick the trumpet player walked in. (Nick the trumpet player hit on me at the very beginning of the semester, and we haven't spoken since.) I said hi and tried to strike up a conversation, but he just stared at me blankly. He didn't recognize me! I'm not sure if it's because I didn't have any make-up on or if he just never pays any attention to the people around him. I held up my tape and audition form so he would realize we played in ensembles together...As he stared at the tape, the light bulb clicked on. The conversation (if you can call it that) that ensued was ridiculously...awkward. There's just no other word for it. I'm not sure if he was annoyed or intimidated...Maybe he doesn't do well socializing with strangers...But everything seemed so forced. And he looked so uncomfortable. I didn't understand. It would have been natural for him to act bored, aloof, irritated...But uncomfortable? Why would I make him uncomfortable? I'm not that scary. Anyway, I eventually stopped trying and just stood there next to him. He kept looking at me like he was going to say something, then remaining silent and rocking back and forth. He's always seemed so overly confident...Today, he was like a middle school boy in the midst of his awkward years. Sheesh, why can't I get away from that word?...Awkward...

So I mailed my audition tape. That's out of the way. And I finished my speech draft. It was so easy once I finally settled on a topic. "Same-Sex Classrooms: The New Trend Toward Segregation"...7 minutes of compelling persuasion by yours truly. I also got 100% on my Psych quiz.

So let's recap. Today, I have been to class, the library, the post office, and my speech professor's office. And it's only 10:30! All I have left to do before my afternoon classes is figure out my algebra assignment. And that's never been a problem, right?

When am I going to fit my nap in? I've missed it several days in a row now...

Cramps

Aaaaand I think the title is pretty self-explanatory.

David Brandt just e-mailed me. Weird.

Registration is TOTALLY stressing me out. I think I can get an override for Music Lit, so I should be able to enroll in that for next semester. However, neither of the psych professors I talked to were willing to grant me an override, and now all of the Experimental Psych sections are full! I kind of need that class toward my major, and it's strongly recommended that one completes that course before taking any other Psych classes. Plus, there are only ten spots left in the Spanish class I need, and I don't get to register until Monday.

I'm going to take this opportunity to blame every guidance counselor I ever had in secondary school. "It's not always about academics, Heather. It won't be the end of the world if you're not Valedictorian. Drop that extra honors class and take advantage of your talent. Music will take you so far. Be well-rounded, Heather. Get involved. Work your stinking butt off doing all kinds of extracurricular activities. It'll pay off." Is it paying off now? Now that I have to wait to register not only after all of the upperclassmen, but also after all the stupid genius kids who took solid AP schedules their junior and senior years. Talent my butt. I could have been one of those stupid genius kids. Instead, I followed my musical genius. And all it's brought me is a LOT of stress. And $1500 a year. But that's still nothing compared to the academic scholarships I've got. If I'd kept that extra honors course, I would have been number one in my class, which would have increased my composite scholarship score. And I would have had a full ride without my music scholarship. Actually, I should have had a full ride without my music scholarship anyway, because the admissions counselor told me if I got 33 on my ACT, they'd pay me to come here. And I took it two more times to raise my score. But even after I got it, I still needed my music scholarship. Morons. My children will not be well-rounded.

I'm done.

Monday's psychology homework was to break a social norm and gauge people's reaction to it. I racked my brain for a creative way to complete the assignment, but, as we all know, I'm not much of an "idea" person. So I broke a fashion code.

I went to orchestra rehearsal today wearing a hot pink suede tennis shoe on my right foot and a brown corduroy tennis shoe on my left foot. I sat next to people for two and a half hours, and no one said a word. Not even John, and he always has to make some comment about my feet. (How small they are, how they don't reach the ground when I scoot all the way back in my chair, how I have too many shoes, etc.) It was really frustrating. I don't know if people really didn't notice, or if they felt sorry for me because they thought I didn't realize I was wearing two different shoes. I watched for weird looks, snickers, and I listened for conversations that might pertain to my mismatched footwear. I saw and heard nothing. Grr...I fail.

On a completely different note...

I recently felt as though I were being included in a less than flattering generalization about women, and it totally sucked (with pardon to my lack of eloquence). So I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to David and Christopher for any instances when I may have harassed them for being just like every other guy I know. Boys, you are NOT jerks. Although you make fun of me more than I would prefer, and although you sometimes display the maturity of pre-schoolers, I love and respect you both very much. I'm sorry.

The End.

I need a beer.

A root beer, that is.

All the Michaels in my life are going to crap.

Michael Phelps is facing DWI charges.

Screw boys.

Just kidding. The whole plastic surgery thing really isn't working out for me. So...yeah. That speech is coming along really well.

My radio alarm is set on NPR because there's always just classical music or someone talking on it, so I can relax for a few more minutes rather than having to get up and turn it off right away. Yesterday morning, when it came on, the people on whatever show it was were talking about Alfred Kinsey. (If you don't know who he is, look him up.) Apparently, Bill Condor just wrote and directed a movie about Kinsey, so they were discussing that...And it was all very graphic. Not something I would ever want to wake up to, but it was most DEFINITELY not appropriate for a Sunday morning. Starting the Sabbath off with Alfred Kinsey...::shudder::...

I should be working, but I don't have anything to work on because I have no topic...No topic...No topic...

Why people shouldn't get engaged at the age of 19. Especially to people with hippie names. Do you think I could find five sources to back that opinion up?

Okay, new topic. Anna inadvertently convinced me that to speak on creationism would be incredibly ineffective due to my extreme bias and likely end in my tragic early demise by way of my classmates stoning me. Although I always wanted to be a martyr...

She said that the scientific evidence backing creationism was often "contrived," a statement which I wholeheartedly disagree with, but I suspect that the majority of my audience would consider true. So...

America's Obsession with Youth and Beauty: The Superficiality of Plastic Surgery

And please don't undermine my intelligence by telling me that not all plastic surgery is bad. Of course, I realize that some people have reconstructive surgery following accidents or deforming diseases, and that others have certain procedures done for health reasons. I will inform myself of these instances and take all of that into account. I know how to write persuasively, for Pete's sake...

Who is Pete?

The End of the World!!

True Men and Minor Detail (male and female a capella groups on campus) hosted an a capella fest tonight. I couldn't go because I had an orchestra concert. Stupid orchestra gets in the way of everything. I missed out on two hours of good-looking guys who can sing! and the worst part...THE BEARTONES WERE THERE! Natalie, I missed out on the Beartones! I'm in an inconsolable state of despair right now. ::Sigh::...I need chocolate.

The concert went relatively well. It wasn't great, but it could have been oh-so-much worse.

I did laundry today. It was the first time I'd used the dorm facilities. They suck. I suppose I'll have to get over that.

Anna and I just watched "Monsoon Wedding" with Rach and Sabrina. It was really good. And now I'm going to bed because the words are all starting to run together...

Kumquats

It's FINALLY Friday.
There's a Save-A-Lot commercial that comes on 85 times during every afternoon show. It says something about kumquats. It was just on.

I was looking forward to a relaxing week without any real assignments, but I've just discovered that my persuasive speech draft is due next Friday, and if I want it to be better than my last go at public speaking, I'd better start on it within the next couple of days. Any suggestions for topics? I think I should talk about why Ken Jennings should be kicked off of Jeopardy.

I think Ken is Mormon. What do you kids think? Any Jeopardy fans out there?

I have an Orchestra concert tomorrow. We have dress rehearsal at 10 am, and the concert is at 8 pm. So I can't sleep in, and if I want to go out (or just watch movies in Rach's and Sabrina's room), I have to wait until after 9. ::Sigh::...Life is so hard.

My nails are almost too long to type.

Life is monotonous these days. I wish something exciting (or at least embittering) would happen so I could entertain you all.

Thursday

Pretty gay guy held a door open for me today.

Shari gets to go the head of the class because she updated her blog yesterday. The rest of you would do well to follow her wonderful example.

Haha, John K. on "Survivor" is a mechanical bull operator. They voted Brady the FBI agent off, but the mechanical bull operator gets to stay.

Algebra test tomorrow. I have a review session at tonight at eight. I hope it helps.

"In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their language." -Mark Twain

My Mochaccino Tastes Like Peanut Butter

Yay, George. Four more years. Yay, Matt Blunt. Denver was in your commercial. Yay, Barak Obama. You're smart, and you had good commercials, and you're mom (or dad? or both?) is African, and I like your name. I can even get past you being a Democrat.

I'm done with my paper! It needs a little tweaking, but I can do that on my lunch hour tomorrow. I can't believe it's only one, and I'm FINISHED! Hallelujah.

It rained again today. But only after being GORGEOUS all morning and for part of the afternoon. It was really depressing.

I had a concert tonight. I played badly. It was equally depressing.

My reeds came today. They're really hard, so I'll have to finish them. I'm not sure if I'll have one to play on by the time Saturday's orchestra concert rolls around...

David: I do buy reeds. This is actually a bad thing; at my playing level, I should be making my own reeds. But I hate reed-making, and I'm horrible at it, so I still buy them. The problem is, I order them, so it takes awhile for them to be made and then shipped to me. Does that answer your question?

I'm going to BED. BEFORE 3am! Tomorrow will be a good day.

(Haha, when I did spellcheck, it told me to replace "Obama" with "ovum". That's not right, silly computer.)

In Honor of Election Day

I'm not one to criticize the government, but this is friggin' hilarious.

"Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself." -Mark Twain

::SIGH::...

"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow." -Mark Twain


Is it really only Monday? I don't feel like I really got a weekend...

I finally finished my speech and Powerpoint presentation at about 2:15 this afternoon. I then gave the speech and presentation in my 3:30 class. It was an absolute train wreck. I have never given a worse performance in my life. I was so upset afterward...Not even because I did badly, but because I know I could have done better. I know I can talk to people...I'm good at talking to people...But today, I let insecurity get the best of me, and I was completely distracted from the message of my speech by thoughts of how my peers were summing me up based on a five minute lecture that doesn't reflect who I am at all. To make matters worse, cute single Christian guy (yes, there IS at least ONE in the world) was assigned the task of giving me positive feedback. He came up with EVERYTHING I could POSSIBLY have done well, and told me I had done all of them right. I did none of those things. He could at least have attempted to camouflage the fact that he was lying.

Wind Symphony and Orchestra have been exceedingly frustrating, as I still have no reeds to play on. The fact that I daily struggle to simply play in tune (disregarding tone, technicality, and interpretation) reflects very badly on me as a musician...But there's not anything I can do about it! I know no one else understands that because they don't play double reed instruments. So they just all think I suck, which is not true at all. Anyway, my mother finally ordered some more reeds, so hopefully, they'll be here by next week. Just in time for me to not be able to use them on the TWO concerts I have this week. Grr...

So I spent this evening working on y Brit Lit paper. It's due Thursday, but I wanted to have it finished for tomorrow so my professor could look over it. (I mean, it's only 20% of my grade.) Plus, I'll have a lot of other things to do over the next couple of days (the story of my life), so I wanted to get it out of the way. All I have done are my introduction and first point. And a topic sentence for my second point.

If I would just let go of my perfectionism and buckle down and work for 5 hours straight, I could get everything done. But I have to everything just right...And I'm so easily distracted...Take now, for example. I'm posting trivial information on my blog rather than analyzing the revelations of death in All Passion Spent. I am an always will be an incurable procrastinator.

"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside." -Mark Twain

I usually don't like it when people have "Quotes of the Day", or whatever, but I just discovered what a genius Mark Twain is. I mean, I can't stand his novels, but he's got some great philosophies and one liners. Anyway, I'll be quoting him quite a bit in the future.

Plus, I'm sitting here eating candy and drinking a Dr. Pepper, so it made me feel better about myself.

Well, I finally got my absentee ballot. Lot of freaking good it does me now.

There's a silent movie on TV. I think it's "Phantom of the Opera". Isn't that funny? "Phantom of the Opera" as a silent movie. Silly Hollywood.

In the "Scream" movies, do they ever find out who the killer is?

The end.