i Back (:

I haven’t really been writing here as much, because life’s been kinda crazy (:

Soo since the last time I wrote, heres 5 new things about me:

1) I have a new tattoo that is hidden (:
2) I have a new belly ring.
3) I have a new sweetheart! (As of 11/26/07)
4) I have a new job as a GSR at Red Door – want a massage? (:
5) I have a new haircut (full out, ‘Hi-I’m-Five’ japanesey bangs.)

I’m not sure what to write.. So, I’ll just describe everything I see right now? And I guess we’ll go from there.

Damn I’m good. But maybe too good.

I’m starting to scare myself – I just realized recently – I’m a really good bullshitter. Sometimes? Stuff comes out of my mouth or appears on paper and I don’t even know where it came from.

There hasn’t been one interview I’ve been to, that I haven’t nailed.. (8) and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m good at selling myself, or because I’m a super good bullshitter. I feed the usual high school story about me being an IB candidate, triathlete, and SGA president on top of juggling a dedicated musician’s career and being involved in community service and work to catch their little sausage fingers that pry at leadership, ambition and dedication – but am I as perfect as I make myself out to be? No way. I’m proud that I pulled through without quitting anything, but – I f’ed up a whole lot.

There hasn’t been a SINGLE paper that I’ve written (even when it was half-assed 30 minutes before) that didn’t get atleast a B.. in fact most of them were A’s. First topics paper of the quarter with Tim (Hippo) Kane? I got one of the two A’s in the class. First paper written for hist125? I got one of the four A’s. Written essay portion of the SAT? 11/12 on the first try, 12/12 for the next two tries. Why? This is definitely because I’m a good bullshitter (and maybe because I listen a little in class ).

You want a detailed oral analysis of Juan Rulfo’s obscure Pedro Paramo, or an explanation of Gustav Klimt’s usage of shapes as a form of expressing gender divisions in The Kiss? Best believe I’ll beautifully deliver an A with a heaping pile of bulllshizzle.

In fact – everything above this sentence may have just been another extraction from my ass.

And THAT, creepy people reading my online diary, is why I am afraid of myself.

You’re a little late

I want to be surprised.

I find that with every year that goes by, my imagination and that of the world around me becomes smaller and more limited. I swear the word has lost just about every ounce of originality left.

I remember when I was a kid, my little cousins and I would make ‘clubhouses’ out of polka-dotted blankets, and my grandmother’s old floral print sheets that we held down with canned foods as weights. We’d pretend that we were hiding in caves of tibet, or we’d sleep in canopies that we hung on the stairs and pretend that we were on ships that were hiding from sea monsters – we even used to get mad at each other if one of us left the clubhouse without a jacket, since it was ‘too cold outside’ to leave without one. We’d do ridiculous things such as dig up giant holes in the backyard thinking we’d find a treasure chest, or sitting in the back of my dad’s volvo and pretending to shoot away velociraptors that were running towards the car, or close our eyes when we flew on the swings cus we thought it’d make us go faster.

When will I wake up?

I almost killed someone today.. and myself.

I drove down lee highway reading my pledge book for my next meeting, and I ran into a pick up truck infront of me.

We’re fine.

But I can’t help but think that if I was going any faster – I could have killed someone.

I could’ve killed someone.

I’m so stupid. I can’t think right now.

I suck at surprising people.

I hadn’t seen my best friend in a while (28 hours) and he was apparently limping from not stretching before playing soccer and football in one day, on top of the bruises he got from last week’s family football bonanza. Sometimes I feel like yelling at him for not taking better care of himself, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I had chem hw due at midnight, and I was coming home from another godforsaken meeting. It was about 10:30 so I decided to go buy him some ice cream to cheer him up, and some mineral ice to relieve the pain. I was on the phone with him while I was doing all of this, so he kept asking questions about why I hadn’t gotten home yet to finish my homework before it was too late.

Did you just close your door?  I can hear you.
No.
Are you getting something to eat? Wait, did you even eat all day?
I’m.. getting something to eat.
Ok, cus you need to eat. Where are you?
I don’t know.
What?
What does that mineral ice box look like again?
What the – are you at CVS?
No.
You’re at CVS aren’t you.
Shoot, where’s the ice cream.
What?!
Nothing.

And then somehow I thought I could sneakily drop everything off at his car and bounce, but.. he was already outside.

“As soon as I saw you, all the pain went away (: It may have been better than the goods that you bought me.”