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A Cowardly Lion [Jul. 16th, 2007|06:33 pm]
Twice in my life can I remember being called brave. And I have a very clear memory of both occasions.

     The first time was about 14 years ago. I was spending the night over at my best friend Jenny's house. Her cat, Squeaker (may he rest in peace), had brought an apparently living mouse in the house.
    Jenny was always the beautiful princess of the two of us, and I was always the daring prince. The only other people in the house with us were her younger brother, Sammy, who must have been barely a year old, and her babysitter, Eloisa, who would always play with my hair and tell me how beautiful it was (about as long as it is now, but blonde and curly).
    I, being the most adventurous of the kids, and not old enough to know better, chased the mouse out of the house while everyone else was screaming. I just thought it was fun, but Jenny kept proclaiming that I was so brave, and tried to orchestrate a hero's parade, with everyone carrying me on their shoulders, just how a little kid would think to reward bravery. Thing is, I didn't feel like I had been brave at all. I was just having fun and not really thinking about what I was doing.

    The second time I was called brave was just a few weeks ago. We were all talking about going off to college, the most common topic since we found out we were actually going. There were a couple different conversations going on at once, and I overheard from the conversation behind me, a friend of mine say that I was so brave for going off to college by myself, without any of my friends.
    The thing is, I'm not brave at all. I'm scared to death. Every time someone asks me about college, I respond with the obligatory "yes, I'm really excited", which is true. I'm really excited for college, for living on my own, for New Orleans, for Tulane specifically, for all sorts of things. But as excited as I am, that's only about 30% of what's going on. The other 70% is absolutely terrified. Not of living on my own; I've been taking care of myself in many ways since I was really little, and in almost all ways since I've been able to drive. I'm just afraid of being on my own. Far away from absolutely everything familiar, with my nearest acquaintances 500 miles away, and my close friends much much further.
    I feel like I'm doing trapeze without a net. It's going to be really fun, and nonstop excitement, and as scary as it may be to be flying so high up, it'll be really awesome. But you know, a net would be nice. Just in case.
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Prom 2007 [Jun. 17th, 2007|09:18 pm]
A one-second summary of my senior prom:

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(no subject) [Jun. 10th, 2007|12:43 am]

Now my throat is sore, mom is on the warpath, and apparently I'm writing an essay tomorrow morning on why I was upset last night.  I seriously hate this. 
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(no subject) [May. 31st, 2007|03:13 pm]
So my mom has this gift card from Barnes and Noble and asks me if I want it.  Of course I said that would be great, so she hands it to me today with this wrapped around it:

I realize this is so that I know how much the card is worth, but do you see that item second from the bottom?  I really don't need to know that.
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Long Day [May. 17th, 2007|06:45 pm]
AP Macro this morning, then Micro in the afternoon.  They didn't tell us we were staying at the same place, so nobody brought their lunches, and there were only eight of us, so they treated us to lunch at the bowling alley next door.  Gave us a free lunch, if you will, in the midst of our AP Econ exams. 

After school, I took my car to the shop for a checkup.  It had been three weeks since my last visit, but since the Firetruck is coming to Yosemite, it seemed like a good idea.  Glad I did it too, because they fixed my AC (little thing just came unplugged), changed out a few tubes ("I don't like this.  I'm getting you a new one." says my mechanic, Hovik), and told me that my brake pads needed to be changed.  The tubey things and the checkup were free, but the brakes are gonna cost me about $450.  Yay!

I think this is pushing me up into the $2,000 range in terms of how much I've spent on my car this year, and that's not including the repairs from when that lady rearended me and then didn't have insurance and never returned my calls.

Then I went and got my cousin a poster board for her project, flip flops for me, and money from the bank for Hovik. 

Then I returned my Aunt's phone call about babysitting on Saturday night with a "sorry, I already turned down your sister for that night because I'm leaving for Yosemite in the morning." 

Then I fought through rush-hour traffic on the 101 to get to my cousin's house to drop off stuff for her project, but this time I didn't stay to help her work on it.  Poor kid.  I like doing projects with her, but by this time it was already 6.00 and I still had errands to run.  She said "That's okay, we can work on it Saturday night when you babysit."  Um.  What?  No no no no no.  I told her I couldn't work on it with her Saturday night because I would be at home, last-minute packing for Yosemite.  But, according to her, her mom thinks I'm still babysitting.  Great. 

Then to Ross to get some random stuff I needed, and then driving home, listening to NPR repeat articles I'd heard twice already.  That's how I measure the length of my day.  If I hear something on NPR twice in a day, I know I've had a long day.  I think this is the first triple-play day for me. 

Still grounded, because Dad grounded me for my grade in Grande right at the beginning of the month-long stretch between last review test and Quilting Project where there is no way to improve your grade.  My dad doesn't understand the concept of a project apparently, because he's mad that I'm not trying to study for Grande's class.  I tried to explain that there is literally nothing for me to study, but of course, Dad has stopped believing anything I say, even though I am the only one in my family who can be trusted.  I routinely point out to him that the parties I go to have kids drinking and smoking, but I choose not to.  I also choose to tell them the truth and come home early from the parties instead of saying I'm staying at a friend's house, as everyone is urging me to, and sleep at the party. 

There is one bright spot to all this:  I am now officially a post-APs senior.  I have been waiting for this day since I was a first-semester freshman.  This is a good thing. 
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(no subject) [May. 14th, 2007|11:04 pm]

1st period:   Sit there, be quiet, look at econ book without really reading
2nd period:   Sit around and talk, go downstairs and hang out with Iris and Spad
3rd period:   Sit there and be quiet and read Confederacy of Dunces, which I look at as studying for New Orleans
4th period:   Gossip about Prom, then take an online quiz about Economics
5th period:   Sit and watch the guys play poker
6th period:   Go down to HGM office and use Princeton Review book to condemn each college that rejected me

I explain this to my dad, in attempt to convince him that it's ridiculous for me to be in school this week, and he lectures me about being arrogant and not using the time to study. 
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Obligatory Love [May. 12th, 2007|05:14 pm]
Shopping for Mother's Day cards is really difficult. 

"Mom, you are my role model"?
    Maybe my role model of how NOT to treat people.

"Mom, I am so grateful for all the things you do for me"?
    Really, the things she thinks I should be grateful for are the material ones that I could care elss about. 

"Mom, I wish that you get all the love and joy that you have given to others"?
    I considered it briefly, but decided that was too mean. 

There really should be a section labeled "To Mother from disgruntled child who, despite her actual feelings towards her mother, recognizes her responsibility to at least pretend to like her enough to recognize Mother's Day". 
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(no subject) [May. 10th, 2007|07:18 pm]
Going to the pediatrician involves so much lying. 

Do you feel sad or anxious regularly? 

Do you have trouble falling asleep or staying asleep?

...and so on.

And then, they gave me a sheet about how to stay healthy, and one of the tips was "be sure to get 9-10 hours of sleep each night".  That would mean I would have to go to bed at 8 or 9. 

Oh, doctors. 
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(no subject) [May. 7th, 2007|05:22 pm]
I own
A6 90 4A 28 F6 26 8F F5 1F DF 04 A4 DB C7 42 DF 
Don't use it or I'll sue you. 
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(no subject) [May. 6th, 2007|11:06 pm]
I just walked out of the shower to find my 14-year-old sister pouring out a bottle of Febreeze and replacing its contents with chilled vodka. 
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