If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could've won.

Mumford and Sons, I officially love you.
I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I'm so apathetic. I don't care about anything. Well, that's not true. I care about my school work when it's not getting done, like right now. I have to finish my play. But why should I? What is the point of finishing a story that's tired and unoriginal when nobody's going to read it? Because of a grade, I know. But I can't see any way out of this whole mess. And it's not even a mess. My life is stable and I haven't grievously offended anyone important lately. So why do I feel like I want to go to sleep and never wake up?
I'm just so tired and uninterested in everything. I feel like I could sleep for a week straight.
I'm so stupid. How could I think that my mediocre play would ever be produced? I'm not a drama kid. I'm not in any drama classes except Play Writing, and that doesn't even count. That means that I am automatically excluded from everything drama department at my school, unless I want to come see a play. And I've seen a lot of the ones they've produced since I got to Apollo. But none of that matters, because to be involved a play you need to be in the class, and I can't get in the class. I've been trying since freshman year, but it never "fit with my schedule". I feel like everything could have gone different if I'd been in drama instead of or hell, in addition to band and academic team.
And the only reason I'm upset about this at all is because one of my friends told me that someone in drama had written an original play and was maybe going to produce it as the spring play. Which is a really really really stupid thing to be upset about, because I never had any indication that my play would be even read by more that the few unfortunates who peer-edited it and my teacher. So why did I think that maybe, somehow, something awesome would happen and my play would be picked? Hell, not even as the main spring production. There's supposed to be a Fine Arts Festival at my school, and my teacher said she would think about maybe picking her favorite(s) from the playwriting class and having them performed, maybe. So that's where I got the idea, I guess. But I've been playing it out in my head since then, mentally casting different people from school into roles and even using that to help dialogue. So that was bad on my part. But I couldn't have gotten as far as I have without having so-and-so actually saying different lines in my head. And that should have just been a writing tool, but my stupid brain took it farther and actually started imagining how cool it would be to be "the girl who wrote that awesome play". Even though it's not awesome. I wanted to be known. "Wow, she wrote that play? It was pretty good. And she's a high schooler?" "Yeah, she wrote that. Pretty cool, huh?"
And now I'm shivering. I'm cold, but that's not why I'm shivering. Sometimes when I get nervous or anxious or distressed about something, I shiver like crazy. It's maddening, because I'll be talking to that guy or confronting that bitch and I'll start to shiver. Well, not shiver, but kind of tremble-y in my stomach and shoulders. It's not noticeable, I don't think, but it makes me feel stupid. I hate my body. I hate my town. I hate my school and I hate that I hate it all.

Leaving town

All my life has been waiting for this year. It's the year when I finally make the final steps to moving out and being on my own--leaving the nest permanently. Just because I've taken small trips out on my own, I think that I can handle anything the world throws at a newly-independent me. But the truth is that I can't. I have no fucking idea what to do in 9 3/4 months (had to throw that in there) when I move away. Normally I can't stand Owensboro and the stupid, closed-minded red necks who inhabit this wasteland. I despise it. I mock it. I turn my nose up at it and pronounce myself superior to the people who live here and enjoy it. I belittle them and say they're unintelligent, stupid, uninterested and utterly boring. I think  that I'm better than them, because I've traveled a bit and because I know the world doesn't end at the county or even the state line. I have taken the smallest of tastes of what lies beyond semi-rural USA and that makes me think that I'm better than everyone else who maybe hasn't had the opportunity to travel like I have.
And then sometimes I get so scared of leaving, even if I'm only moving 2.5 hours away, that I just want to cry. I miss it already and it's not even gone.

Time to write.

I haven't posted lately, and I'm sorry about that. I like blogging. It helps me clear my head.
I don't think there's much better than plugging the headphones in, turning the Coldplay up, and ignoring the shouts and door slams of your chaotic family.Well, there's a lot better than that. But it's pretty damn good right now.
Normally these days when I write, it's because I got this sudden need to let something out. Like popping a zit. I need to let the nasty out so I can heal, and this is a good place for it. I mean, nobody reads it, and I'm not foisting my rants on my friends like I do a lot apparently.
Huh. Can't write today for some reason. And I don't think my internet is working.

I haven't posted in a while. Sorry

Um, anyway. It's been rather busy in my neck of the woods recently what with senior year finally getting in swing and marching band heating up (ugh, don't even get me started talking about marching band) and other things that I'm doing. So, I've been kind of chilling by watching a lot of TV. A lot for me, anyway. As in, I found this series online and I FELL IN LOVE and watched the first two seasons in like 2 days. It's British. It's about superheroes, but not in the way you'd think. And it has super sexy fine people playing on it. Ergo, I am in  love with it. It's called Misfits and if you read this and are incapable of faking your age online, do not watch it because there is strong language and a bit of gore and several sexy scenes. I don't have a problem with that myself, but for some reason people think that just because I'm under 18 I don't know what sex is and I've never said a curse word in my life, which is complete and total bollocks. I swear like a sailor and I talk about sex more than I talk about...I don't know. My grades. Which is saying something, coming from me. Anyway, it's completely brilliant and I love it to death. Everything about it is fantastic--the actors, the story, the slight over-the-top-ness of it all. I don't know how I'll go back to watching Glee this fall. Sweet jesus, I really don't know if I can. I watched a bit of one episode and I was literally sitting there thinking I am going to vomit all over this damn laptop. I used to love Glee! I knew it wasn't the best story and the acting wasn't tops but I liked it anyway and now I don't know if I can go back to it. We'll just have to see how stupid the new season starts to see if I can bring myself to continue ingesting it. Shit shit shit my dad's coming. Hold up.
Ok, I'm back. I took a shower.*bow chicka wow wow* Anyway, dammit. It's now 12:25 AM and I have school bright and early tomorrow morning. Ugh. So I'm signing off for tonight, you sexy things. Stay classy.

Warning: contains extreme math technology-caused anger

What? What's that you said? Something about technology is an inanimate object and cannot think or do for itself? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of my tearing my hair out in frustration and the thought of punting this dumb laptop across a soccer field and yelling "GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAL" as loud and obnoxiously as I can. This dumb ass computer has done so many unspeakable things. It bans me from Facebook and the like. It won't let me use other fucking browsers, like Mozilla or maybe Chrome, which are both so much better than fucking Internet Explorer that it's not even funny. IE is like using a chisel to carve cuneiform into clay tablets while everyone else is whizzing along on iPads. And the fucking spell check isn't even on. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.
Also, I hate math. With a vibrant, burning passion. In fact, my hatred of math burns with the intensity and passion of a thousand suns. STUPID MOTHERFRAGGLEASSTRIANGLES. I've been trying to do my math homework for the past hour and I keep getting "domain error" shit. So I just quit and I'll go in the morning to see what the fuck it is that I'm doing wrong. Fuck fuck fucking math and this dumbass stupid computer. Fuck you.
And I'm upset because of the motherfucking CHA reunion and how I won't get to go and my entire crew is going to be there and I'm going to miss is because of a fucking band contest, one that I half-way don't even care about. And I'm upset because I can't go to college in a city. And I feel dumb because I want to go to Pitt more than I want to go to Murray. I feel like I shouldn't though. I have no claim on Pittsburgh. Just becuase I was there for a day doesn't mean I get to say I want to stay there for 4+ years at school. But I do. I do so much. It's so beautiful there. And the campus at Pitt is wonderful--it's right smack dab in the middle of things. Or, at least it looks like it is. All the buildings are tall and you can walk to all these stores and everything and it just has this incredible vibe that I fell in love with but I can't go there because it's crazy expensive. And I don't even know if I'd be happy once I got up there--I would know NOBODY. I'd be lucky if there was someone in my class who was from Kentucky, let alone Owensboro. Not that I care, or I like to think that I don't care. I think now that I want to get away from all of this stupid redneck shit around here, but I think I'd be scared out of my mind for the first bit. But I might start to hate it later. I'm so fucking fickle. I used to say that I was in love with the Davidson campus, and I never even seriously considered it. I didn't consciously want to change, it just happened. So I say I love Pitt and I want to be there in a city I've been to twice with people I've never met.
I feel like I'm being punished for wavering at the end of CHA from my proclamation I made at the end of spring break. Like, because I thought I might want to go to Murray more, now it would be the best thing to want more. Or maybe I'm not being punished but the universe it a few weeks behind in granting my wishes and that's making everything terrible and I'm sitting here crying because I'm so damn upset. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Posting and crap

Um, well, I'm not supposed to be doing pre-calc homework. No, I'm supposed to be writing a monologue for playwriting and I need to get my "mis-match day" outfit ready or I won't do it in the morning, but I'm so damned tired. I legit fell asleep earlier watching TV before dinner. I mean, who does that? Old people, that's who. I'm not old. I'm 17 for chrissakes, but I'm still exhausted on a regular basis. Maybe this is why. And maybe marching band? Ugh. Band. It's so stupid. My director is a special kind of ass, because he thinks he's right all the time even when it's totally obvious he's wrong. But I don't want to complain about band because I've been complaining about band all day and I'm tired of thinking about it. I want to magically get clean and in my pajamas and contacts out and magic clean fresh sheets instead of the slightly funky ones I've got on the bed now because I'm lying on them before I've had my shower and magically written awesome monologue. Well, it doesn't even have to be awesome. It just has to be decent and a page long. Maybe I'll just jack a post from the blog for it. Ugh. So tired.

READ THIS IN A FEW YEARS.

We'll get to this title of this below because I don't feel like re-writing the entire freaking post for where I ended up.

My school laptop is so fucking slow. And the only reason I use it on a semi-regular basis is because my access to the home computer is extremely limited. My parents put a password on the only account on the thing, and I don't know it. So the only time I can go on is when 1.) my mom isn't pitching a bitch fit and complaining about how the only thing she hears about is "Can I go on the computer?!" (but ya know, if she didn't put a stupid password on it, I wouldn't ask her) 2.) my dad isn't bellowing at the top of his voice like a wounded bull elephant about the damn computer and viruses and the bookface and everything else he doesn't know about the stupid thing 3.) nobody else is on the computer and 4.) I can actually get my mother (because it would actually, literally kill my dad to log it on for me)to log it on because she's not refusing to type in the goddamn password in a fit of pique and feelings of under-appreciation.
In other news, let's talk music. I was at band practice the other day (when am I not at band practice? Really) and I was standing next to Nathan and he or I said something about being lost so I sang badly a bit of the chorus to the song Lost! by Coldplay and he practically died of excitement because I knew the song. Then I thought about how I go on these musical kicks where I'm super into a band or singer and I only listen to them for a while and then I move on. Anyone else do that? Well, I'm on a bit of a Coldplay kick right now, and I keep listening to this one song over and over and I keep waiting to get tired of it but I haven't yet. I'm sure it'll happen, but I've done Coldplay like this before so I think they're here (in my brain) to stay. The fact that I get a metaphorical musical boner from Chris Martin's singing doesn't hurt their case either. (OMFG I JUST TYPED THERE FOR THEIR WTF IS WRONG WITH ME)
Then I was listening to the Glee (oh, the shame! Not really. I have a weird relationship with Glee. I know it's not very good really, but I can't help loving it) cover of Somewhere Only We Know and I was just thinking about how Darren Criss's voice gives me an actual, literal lady boner in addition to the metaphorical musical one and also I was wondering why he can't sing that low all the time. Well, I know why. It's because if he did, every single fertile female in America Glee-watching countries would get pregnant and there would be a huge population boom of incredibly attractive, musically talented children and that would make the hunger problem even worse and it would just be bad. So he can just come sing that low all the time for me, and I'll bear dozens of his children and wow this post is getting real creepy real quick. #don'tgiveadamn
I don't know if that's actually how those # Twitter things work, but from what I've seen it's just like an amusing ending to the sentence of phrase. #alsodon'tgiveadamn
OH! Speaking of incredibly sexy man voices, the activities director (who was extremelyhot and 24) at CHA this year sang The Temptation of Adam at the last Spotlight and every single female in that place nearly jumped his bones as soon as he opened his mouth and started singing. I mean, DAMN. Dude's got skills. And my poor roommate. She'd been in love with him since about the 3rd day, and I could practically see her drooling and struggling to remain in her seat and not leap up and make a declaration of love. I mean, I was on the other Team and I was trying to control my loins. Hahaha. I said loins.
Ok, lemme explain these Teams. (I was not, in fact, a lesbian for 3 weeks.) There were 2 superhawt authority figures at CHA--the activities director and one of the guy RCs. The activities director (hereforth AD) was 24 and rode a bike. And rolled up his pants. Not a lot, just a couple of turns, but he did that with all his pants and you don't know how sexy that can be until you see it. He was also hilarious and flirted with everyone. Which was naaaaice. 

Then you have RC. RC was, in my opinion, the obvious winner of the hotness contest between AD and RC. RC had nerdy sexy glasses and awesome hair and was just all around themostattractivepersonI'veever seeninreallife. I'd even go so far as to say that he was in fact supermegafoxyawesomehot. Oh yeah, AVPM fans. I went there. BUT he didn't flirt with the entire female community so his popularity amongst the ladies of floors 5 and 6 was slightly diminished. BUT he did roll up his pants A LOT into supersexyManCapris which was the hottest damn thing I've ever seen. And he wore suits (SUITS!) to the dress-up things and once he wore a plaid tie (PLAID!) and he had a fucking pocketwatch (he had time in his pocket!) and then the deal-breaker for me was when he wore a tuxedo to the Final Banquet. Yes, ladies, he wore a TUX. With a BOW TIE.(I'm not sure if that's required or a given with a tux but anyway) OMFG I nearly jizzed my pants (except I wore a dress) the whole time I was there because I have a thing for bow ties. As in (with a few exceptions, of course) if a male wears a bow tie in my vicinity, I am instantly attracted to him. BAM. Like that. Believe it.
Um, anyway, after that overly explanatory explanation, we have come to the nub and gist of it. Ladies (or gentlemen) who preferred AD were on Team AD, and ladies (or gentlemen, though I never heard of any) who preferred RC were on Team RC. I think you can probably figure out which one I'm on. (TeamRCTeamRCTeamRC FORTHEWIN)
Le sigh. I need some new music. And also I am literally this close to throwing this damned thing across the room and going the fuck to sleep. It's super slow and doesn't load anything and won't let me on Facebook or porn or Gmail or anything. Kidding, DCPS. Kidding!
I've figured out the problem with my blog posts--they don't have an actual story or point. I mean, I start out on some topic and then I ramble and then I mention CHA and then I end up somewhere completely different. I don't mind, though. These will be interesting to read in several years when I can laugh at my dumb 16 and 17 year old self. Hi, older me! What's it like? Where'd you end up? Are you still a virgin? Please no.
Hah, actual ending to the post? Nope. Just a picture of some awesome sunglasses.

I need someone who understands, I need someone who heals

So I didn't know that that song ('Til Kingdom Come) was a Coldplay song when I heard it at the final Spotlight at CHA and now I'm listening and I want to weep. I don't know if it's just because I'm a hormone-riddled 17 year old female or what, but I have been so mood-swingy lately. Actually, that probably has a lot to do with it. Like, yesterday and they days before I was all "I am the biggest boss the world has ever seen and you mortals should worship at my feet" but not in an excessively rude way, and today I'm just like "I suck at life, someone come ship me off to outer Mongolia so I don't have to inflict my awkward-ass self on you gods". URGH it sucks.
You know, I've been kidding myself lately by thinking that the worst of missing CHA was over. I mean, I obviously post about it all the time, and now that I most likely can't go to the reunion, it just hurts more. I always counted on being able to go, but the stupid band competition is that day and I would totally miss hosting a band to see them all, but my mom doesn't want me to. And considering the fact that she'd probably have to drive me down there, her approval kind of matters. I'm doing a really bad job of explaining why I miss it so damned much, but that's because there is literally no way to describe how it was and what it meant to me then and what it means now. Missing something this badly is a completely new experience for me. The closest thing to this is when my grandmother would come to visit from Pennsylvania or New Jersey or wherever she was, and then would leave as one does at the end of visits. Ugh, sob sob sob, cry cry cry. Stupid hormones.

Why do I always blog when I'm trying to do pre-calc homework?

And I just realized I need my calculator for this, so I'm going to get it.
Ugh, now I have to pee like crazy. And I opened up my mints to get one because peppermint stimulates the brain (or something like that) and I need some stimulation if I'm going to get all this biznitch done, and 3 fell into my mouth instead of one. So I spit one back into the container, which I realize may be slightly unsanitary, but you know what? I don't give an f-word. Yeah, I'm gonna pee.
'Kay, back from peeing.I know I talked the other day about how missing CHA was kind of pointless because it doesn't do anything, but that doesn't mean sometimes I miss every single one of those crazy kids like, well, crazy. Seriously, I can't even describe how completely awesome those 3 weeks were. I mean, here I am, something like a month and a half after it ended and my chest still gets all tight and I feel a bit like crying occasionally when I think about them because I miss them all so goddamned much. Last night I actually had a dream about CHA. I've had several in the past but they'd kind of stopped, but then last night I dreamed we were all in 1890's Chicago and I wrote a book about my CHA experience, but then the book, along with a piece of my jewelry that looked like a necklace I got in Murray, were stolen and we all ran around looking for them very quickly because we were getting on a boat and the boat was leaving soon and we couldn't miss the boat. We ended up following a group of people through the back-stage part of a theatre, and a friend and I were separated from the rest of the group because we followed a guy running around a corner and he jumped off a balcony onto a stage below, and then we realized he was an actor at the theatre and we were lost. Anyway, that was my dream.
Urgh. I was going to write this huge long post about my love for the author John Green, but I'm too tired and that damned precalculus is calling my name and saying some very rude things about me so I'm going to have to go beat its ass.

Oh nooooo

Once again...I'm blogging instead of doing my pre-calc homework. Although instead of messing around on YouTube, this time I was pretending I was rich and went on the Ulta website and added anything I wanted to the order basket. I think I got up to $550 before I was done. Something like 25 or 30 nail polishes, an expensive straightener, a mini hair dryer, a new curling iron (all purple, of course), some hot-oil deep conditioning hair treatments for my mom to try, a toning/slimming cream that was called FatGirlSlim so of course I had to get it. Oh, and a thermal pouch for the straightener. And some cool-looking dry shampoo and bronzer and a lipgloss and some sunscreen, I think. It was actually kind of fun, not thinking "Nah, don't get that, it's too much money." At first I was semi-realistic about it. You know, going for the $3 nail polish instead of the $14 nail polish. But then, I thought, "Why not?" I mean, it's not like I can actually buy any of it. It's not like it's going to be magically charged to my mom's card because I clicked "add to cart". I've never done that before. It was kind of fun.
Crap. I'm getting another zit on my chin. It's one of those nasty under-the-skin ones that will never come to the surface but instead lurk beneath and cause me great pain and anxiety. Hahaha...lurking. That's such a funny word. It's one of those that should sound just nasty, like moist and yeast and squat, but I love it anyway. Speaking of lurking, there's been a bit of corn lurking in between my teeth since dinner time and it's driving me absolutely crazy. Urgh. Oh, speaking again of lurking, a bit of draaaama happened today at ye olde marching band practice. I am now the sole horn player. Let me break it down: one switched to baritone to balance out the section because two of them (the baritones) quit, leaving one freshman. The second horn player quit supposedly because her mom wants her to quit because she's going to be in some female relative's wedding and she would miss several contests for "dress fittings", but I think it's because she got mad when the band director told her to go back outside on the field after she sat inside for 40 minutes because she was hot. You know what? It's marching band, in Kentucky, in August. I'd be more worried if it wasn't hot. I mean, she wears dark, heavy clothing to outside practice. She has long, dark hair that she keep continually down around her shoulders and face. She's really pale and skinny and frail-looking anyway, but she refuses to wear lighter clothing and put her hair up and wear a hat, like the director has been harping on since day one. I don't wear a hat at practice, but I have blonde hair and I'm rather sturdy and, perhaps most importantly, I know what I'm doing. I wear shorts and a light shirt and put my hair up and I get lovely and tan. Heat doesn't affect me that badly, so I guess I'm lucky. Or maybe I'm just not a dumbass. Anyway, the third horn player quit because she got a job and apparently she just couldn't work in practices around  her super-strenuous work schedule. But wait! This is the girl who showed up to practice today and sat and watched on the sidelines. Yeah, you read that right. She quit because of her job and then sat at practice doing nothing. (This is where the lurking comes in.) It made me so mad. She said she was waiting on her greasy boyfriend, because he's also in band and I guess was giving her a ride home or wherever. But the fact that she had the balls to come outside and watch the band she should have been participating in just infuriated me, and I told her as much on break. She stormed off the parking lot, and according to a reliable report from my favorite freshman, was bad-mouthing me in the band room afterwards and even said something about her crying because of it. I hope she did. She had no right to sit there and watch when she had just quit because she wasn't going to be able to show up at practice. I mean, does anyone else understand this massive hypocrisy? It's just so blatantly nasty that I could gladly...er...not say anything because of events that recently happened involving a Facebook photo of a rude text, some threatening comments on said photo regarding the sender of said text, said sender's parents, and the school disciplinarian. Nasty stuff all around, and I'm really glad I avoided it. I should really get on that pre-calc homework, because last night I stayed up until 1AM for absolutely no reason other than I was distracted by YouTube videos. It was terrible, and I nearly died dragging my ass out of bed this morning.
Wow. It's amazing how much I write on this thing now that I don't have to.

So I'm back and badder than ever

I know I don't have to blog for English anymore, but I kind of liked it. It won't be anything regular; I'll probably just post when I don't have anything better to do, or when I'm avoiding math homework. Dang, the first day of school and already I'm slacking.
I think I'd like video blogging. I talk to myself a lot (don't look at me like that). It's not that I have legit conversations with myself, it's like I'm planning a conversation I could sometime have with someone. I guess it makes more sense if you think of me talking to the random audience that video bloggers talk to when they do their thing. Anyway, so I'll just sit there thinking to this imaginary person/people and not get anything done. Does anyone else do that?
Anyway, I'm avoiding pre-calc homework. And I'm really starting the school year off well by not making bed before midnight. YESSSSSS
This year my philosophy has changed a bit, though. CHA is really to thank for that. I changed so much during those 3 weeks, but the funny thing is that I didn't realize how different I was until I came home and started interacting with the people I knew before I went away. I used to be so meek and timid and really self-deprecating, I guess, and I don't do that much anymore. It's a change of attitude. I used to be kind of passive about things that went on in my life and ever since CHA I've taken charge more. I tell people what I want instead of hemming and hawing and insinuating what I want with the hope that they will read my mind and know. I guess that's really what I wanted--someone to read my mind, because I made this up this dumb idea that if someone really loves me or likes me, they will automatically know everything about me and know what I'm thinking and I won't have to tell them. It's not really dumb, it's just hugely misguided. For me, anyway. Nobody's going to know what I'm thinking unless I tell them or show them. Really, it's up to me to make myself understood, not just sit around and wait for someone to come "discover" me. I have to get up and put myself out there, which I wasn't doing before I spent the best 3 weeks of my life at Murray with the coolest people I've ever met. I miss it so much, but I'm past the point of sitting and crying because it's over. I miss it hugely, and I acknowledge that, but that's not helping anything. Missing it won't make it come back. Nothing I can say or do will ever take me back to those 3 fantastic weeks where I made great friends and learned so much. So, I'm going to focus on using what I learned there to make my life back here in Owensboro better and not just sitting there letting it go to waste because I miss it. Missing all my friends won't magically transport me to where they are, and it won't bring us all back together one more time. There's the reunion in September, but it's the same day as our home marching band competition and I don't know if I'll be able to make it. I want to go, more than anything, but I have to be here for my band, as well. I'll figure it out, I know that. But back to the point. Instead of moping and crying because my friends aren't around me right now, I want to use what they taught me about myself to make things better for me and for my friends here. I know this sounds hugely cheesy and corny and whatnot, but I honestly don't care, because, like the end of band camp this year, this is real. It's not fake like so many other interactions every single on of us go through every day over and over again. Kissing up to a teacher because you want a better grade. Pretending to sympathize with a girlfriend over her boyfriend troubles when you don't care. Making conversation with people you can't stand because none of your friends are anywhere close. We all do stuff like this, and I'm not saying that it's not necessary, because it is. But things like my marching band and CHA and TIP and all these awesome things aren't like that. They're real.

nananananananananan...BATMAN!!!

I need one more post on my blog to be done with it. I don't know if I'll continue to post after this year is over. I like having a blog, just so I can follow all these funny blogs and nail blogs and whatnot. It doesn't seem like I have that many readers, but oh well.
So I watched Batman Begins earlier. It's definitely a good movie...but goshdangit, Rachel's character is sooo bad. It's not that what's-her-face is a bad actress, it's just that the part is really weak. And didn't they get a new actress for the second movie? And then kill her off? Yeah...but Liam Neeson is such a boss. All those fight scenes where he just opens can after can of whoop...er, he beats Christian Bale soundly. It's kind of awesome. And then Alfred! Squeeee! I don't know what it is about Michael Caine, but he's just so awesome with that accent and everything and I just love him. And then Morgan Freeman, of course. How can you not like Morgan Freeman? I have a feeling that if Morgan Freeman narrated my life, it would be infinity times better.
Moving on once again, I was lurking on Youtube the other night when I was procrastinating writing my Sociology paper (which is done now, thank the heavens) and I was trying to listen to a music video when one of those obnoxious ads came on. You know, the kind where it's usually an overly-chipper mom cleaning something with waaaay too much excitement and energy? Because she's got THIS SUPER DUPER CLEANING PRODUCT THAT IS SO GOOD IT WILL MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE. WITH THE MOON. Ahem. Anyway, this one was different. It was this trio of Italian dudes singing in these OMGAMAZING voices. They're called Il Volo and they are so good. I mean, normally I don't listen to that kind of music, but go look them up. Right now. (It doesn't hurt that they're all really attractive, too. (I like the one with glasses best.) Their voices are simply amazing, and guess what? They're my age! 16 and 17! I think it's so cool. And I feel impressed with myself because I found out about them before (if only by hours) everyone else did on American Idol, which I snobbishly refuse to watch. But anyway...
Crap. Now it's almost midnight and I haven't done my algebra, which I can't do because I was gone when this was assigned and my teacher just gave me the worksheet and she didn't give me the numbers on the worksheet, and furthermore I can't get the notes on how to actually do the cursed equations.
And now it is midnight and I am giving up. Hello, algebra failura.

Frustration and an unprovoked whining session, and also PROM

My computer frustrates me. I seriously just sat here for 10 minutes waiting for it to unfreeze. Add that to another list of things that are not working in my life:

• Computer
• Clothes dryer. I discovered that this morning, when I went to get my clothes out and found that they smelled like something died in the dryer. Unfortunately, almost all of my clothes were in there.
• Air conditioner. It's gone wonky for some reason. The reason is probably that it's as old as I am, so it's either boiling in my house or freezing cold.
• My grades. They suck. Not as badly as they could, but I'm still struggling.
• My mental state. I don't know why, but I've been so down lately. Maybe it's the post-prom depression, because I spent forever thinking about it and planning for it and talking about it, and now it's over (and it wasn't much fun in the first place) but I don't think so. I'm disappointed with my life in its entirety at the moment. I have no social life, my face looks like a pizza, I hate my job, etc.
• Speaking of my face, my acne medicine is not working. Like I said, maybe it's all the stress I've dealt with lately, what with AP testing and prom and then continuing to worry about my lack of a social life. It probably doesn't help that I pick at them a lot, but I look like I've got a pound of raw beef for a face. Ok, not that extreme, but that's what it feels like. Especially when I wake up late/don't care about my appearance for the day and pull my hair back into an unflattering ponytail that shows off my forehead in all its zitty glory. 

 Anyway, now that I've had my complaining session, let's talk about prom.

Prom was Saturday, and it was...interesting.
EDIT: So I finally came back to this post. Prom was May 7, and it was fun,  I guess. See, I didn't have a date, but I went with a group of friends. And of course, that was fun when I wasn't worrying about how I looked in my strapless dress, which was a bad decision. Let's just say that next year I'll be wearing a dress with straps. Not that any serious wardrobe malfunctions happened, but they were lurking on the edge of possibility all night and that would have been awful. Anyway, we met up at one of the group member's church beforehand to take pictures, before taking the trek out into the boonies to the house of the senior girl in the group, who was giving a dinner before. Pictures were fun, but of course I looked terrible in all of them. Or I think I do, anyway. But then we got to Hannah's house and OMG she has a trampoline. So what did we all do? Jump on it. In our dresses. There are some interesting pictures of that on Facebook, I'll tell you that.  But dinner was great, and then we headed out to the dance. Once we got there, they hadn't started letting people in yet, so we stood outside and squealed over how pretty everyone looked, and I envied every girl who had a date to stand with, but not as much as I did when they played slow songs and I had to slink out onto the balcony, feeling very "Forever Alone". In the beginning, I didn't want to dance because I was feeling self-conscious and stupid, and because my infinitely cool brother was dancing a group over with his infinitely cool friends, and I just felt like everyone was carefully watching who I was dancing with, how I was dancing, and all that stuff that nobody actually notices or cares about. But I got over that, and about halfway through, when I came to terms with the fact that Darren Criss was not in fact going to come bursting through the doors, singing his heart out, and simultaneously sweep me off my feet and propose marriage, I started to have a good time. I was dancing, I was laughing, I was having fun. It was all good towards the end, when they played decent music that everyone could dance to.
My comments on the dancing style at prom? Let's see...I think this sums it up: The "Let's See How Close We Can Get Our Naughty Bits Without Actually Having Intercourse!" was highly popular, as was the "Let's Slam Our Hips Together and Generally Make Fools Of Ourselves!". But oh well, such is the norm with teenagers today.
But all in all, it was fun and I want to go next year. Maybe. (With a dress with straps. I'm thinking a tea-length retro number, with the same shoes I want to wear to graduation (my graduation, that is)):

Loverly peacock pumps from www.shopplasticland.com

Finals OMG

What? Finals are two weeks away? When did that happen?! I'm not ready to be a senior! My grades aren't good enough! OH NOOOO
All this panic has been brought about by the finalization of the finals schedule by our darling administration. I've been through 5 rounds of finals, and every single time they change the schedule. Seriously. It's irritating, and it results in me not drawing up a chart for myself about which classes I'm exempting from, when I'll be at school and my grades, etc. until the minute before exams start.But now I've got it done (I think) but all my grades and such are dependent on how many more grades my teachers take before final exemptions are due. Like, in some classes, I'm on the border of an A and if we take a few more grades that I do well on, I could bump it up to the A and get out of the final. But I doubt that'll happen, so I'll take like, 3 of my 8 finals. Boooo.

I'm the world's Most Awkward Person--and I have proof! Also, I want to be a cowgirl.

If I were a superhero, my power would the be ability to make anyone, anywhere, feel awkward about anything. I mean, I'm incredibly good at it. With just a few choice words flung from my lips, I can make a situation turn frosty, full of sideways didshereallyjustsaythat glances and false laughing at my incredible wit. I'll think something in response to someone's question or comment, and I'll blurt it out, often without giving it time to solidify into actual proper English. Instead, it emerges at speeds of up to over 90000 mph as mangled gibberish it'd take a speech pathologist twenty minutes to figure it out. Then, to make things worse, I'll try to explain what I meant. This usually goes one of two ways: either they somehow understood what I said, and my attempted explanation is met with more blank stares, or I end up totally ruining the whole situation by confusing everyone more. Then I usually quiet down, and feel ashamed of myself for thinking I could engage in witty banter with these demigods normal human beings, who seems to have no problem at all making themselves understood, and usually getting roaring laughter in response to their observations. Of course, I'm not talking about everyone. Some people just aren't as funny as others. But these verbal slip-ups seem to occur when I'm most self-conscious about what I'm saying, because I want them to think I'm funny and therefore attractive. Not attractive in the "let's find a dark corner to make out in" but "Hey, you're a cool person and I like you" way.

Anyway...now that I'm done whining contemplating my existence, I'll tell you darlings what brought about this bout of angst. I was in the gym today during 4th period instead of sociology, because we juniors got a reward "day" (even though it was 1 1/2 hours) for doing well on the state tests last week. A large group of kids who I'm kind-of friends with most of the people in (wow, that was confusing. Ok, to clarify, there was a large group of kids. I'm kind-of friends with most of them and good friends with one or two. moving on) were playing 4-square. Now, I'm not very athletic (obviously), but I love 4-square. When I'm not playing with uber-competitive track team/volleyball/cross country/swim team stars who unmercifully slay me with their mad skills on the court, that is. My love for the game came about the summer after 7th grade, when I first went to TIP. During breaks, my class would venture outside. Heather, our TA, came up with the idea of playing 4-square on the brick paths instead of languishing in the hot North Carolina sun, or risking injury by crossing the paths of Ultimate Frisbee players to get to the denser shade. Anyway, flashback over. I had awkwardly (!) joined the group of people, since nobody specifically said "Hey Katherine! Get your awkward butt over here and play some 4-square!" I just kind of sidled on over because I had abandoned my previous group because I didn't want to listen to them debate the pros and cons of the stoner kid who sits next to me in class, because a member of said group laaaaiked him. At least, that was my impression. Anyway, so we go a few rounds of the game, I get out without touching the ball, and a kid who will remain unnamed came up to me and talked to me, asking about my grades. When I answered him (saying that they were abysmal, 'cause they are) I used the same swearword he'd apparently used the sentence before, and he said I wasn't allowed to use his own swears against him! So I said something stupid and used the previously described word-vomit all over this kid and the conversation just died after that. So here I am, sitting and thinking about it 7 hours later. 

When I do this (and it's often, believe me) I just console myself with thinking about how in 10 years, I could be living by myself on a ranch in either Montana, Utah, Wyoming, or Arizona. Somewhere out West where there's not a lot of people. And I mean by myself: no bratty kids, no obnoxious husband, no irritating neighbors. Maybe with a couple of dogs and horses. And sheep. And goats. And chickens. I like farm animals, can you tell? I guess living in semi-rural Kentucky has finally brainwashed me, and lately I've had the urge to don cowboy boots and unflattering  flannel shirts. I think it would be cool to be an earthy lady--not like crazy environmentalist, but don't-have-to-go-to-the-grocery-store-for-everything lady. You know? I could illustrate as my main gig and just send my prints to my editor or whoever in their office in the city, and enjoy a peaceful life out West with my animals.

I run things

Not really. I just wrote that because I'm in sociology class and I've already typed the notes that are on the powerpoint, so I basically have nothing to do. We're discussing divorce, so ERR-BODY has their Personal Statement or their Personal Connection to this Sad and Horrible Topic. And I'm like, save the drama fo'yo' llama. Whatever. I don't even want children or to get married or anything. I'll live all by myself (well, with a few dogs) in rural Montana when I'm grown up. I'll just send my drawings to book editors and be really really rich and live in a castle or something. And I'll have horses. Two or three horses. Yeah.

I miss the way things used to be

Well, if you saw this post during the past 24 hours, you might have noticed that it has gotten significantly shorter. I deleted my rant because it was embarrassing. End of story. Enjoy the pictures!

From top to bottom:
"Do You Know Where the Fight Is?", courtesy Kate Beaton.
Chanel (I think) shoes...from I don't know where.
Lolarious graph from graphjam.com

That darn chicken sandwich

So, apparently, all of you people stumbling on my blog are looking at it just because of the picture of the chicken sandwich I posted ages ago. Seriously, like all of my pageviews from the last month or so have been from Google Images, searching for a chicken sandwich. It's not real, guys. Looking at it won't make it materialize in your lap! People on the internet are weird...In other news, Spring break is officially over in 25 minutes. I might cry. It's been an awesome spring break, and I'm not ready to go back to the monotony of school. Although tomorrow, hopefully, something...interesting might happen. We'll see. But yeah...school is boring. I want to go to college, even though it scares me a whole lot. I'd never tell my parents that I'm scared to go away, because that's pretty much all I've ever talked about--leaving the house and being on my own. But now that it's nearly here, I'm kind of thinking that maybe living with my parents and having them provide me with food, clothing, transportation, and, oh yeah, immediate unconditional love (most of the time. I can be pretty obnoxious.) isn't so bad after all. Oh, dear. Now I sound like one of those stupid Disney channel "coming of age" movies where the protagonist gets exactly what she wishes for and realizes that it's not what she wants at all and she really had it awesome with her awesome family and her awesome clothes and awesome friends and she learns to appreciate them, goshdarnit! Ugh. K-Pow OUT.

Prom/Spring Break

Urgh. Prom is a month away, and I still don't have 1.) A date and  2.) A dress. I don't even know if I'll go this year, since I can't find the motivation to actually ask someone. I could, but then there's the possibility that they'd say no, and I really don't feel like dealing with rejection, which is what I'm pretty sure I'd be faced with. So why even ask, right? On the other hand I might go with a girl friend, which would be ok, but not as fun as going with a date or even a date and a group, like so many people at Apollo do. I don't know why I'm suddenly so apathetic about the whole thing. I guess it's because this is really the critical time to find a date and schedule hair and makeup and what not and I'm not doing any of it, because I don't know if I'm going or not. There's a thousand reasons not to go, but there's also a thousand reasons to go. I can't make up my mind.
Also, it's spring break. You'd think with all this time off from school I'd be out of my mind with bliss, but I'm not. I took a fantastic trip to Pittsburgh and Rochester, NY to visit colleges earlier this week. I visited the University of Pittsburgh and the Rochester Institute of Technology, and I absolutely loved Pitt. As in, barring no major personality/financial situation/general intended career changes, I'm going to be headed there after I graduate from this boring high school in this podunk little town. I thought I wouldn't like an urban campus, but after I got there and saw how everything moved, I loved it. I can't imagine staying isolated on a self-contained campus now, and that's what I thought I wanted before I visited. I wasn't so much impressed by Rochester...maybe because it's kind of out of the way, and the day before I'd been smack-dab in the middle of a busy, energetic city. Also, it seems like everyone at Rochester has a car and lives off-campus, and I won't have a car (I don't think I even want one, especially if I'm in the city). I love the fact that Pitt is connected to the city around it. Like, at Pitt, if you're heading to your 9 AM class, you could pick up a coffee and donut from the donut shop a block away from your residence hall. I guess you could do that at any college, but it would be from a restaurant from inside the school, not a separate business, and it would just be more of the same people. I don't know; I can't explain it.
Anyway, all my traveling has disillusioned me from my sedate-ish Owensboro life. It's really boring and especially trying because I'm dealing with the rest of my messy family again, not just my mom and littlest brother. And on top of all of this, I'm dying to get some new nail polish after my last purchase failed so miserably. It was this bright purple thing from Rue21, and it's grape-scented. Scented nail polish? It was weird. Not only did it smell bad (all chemical-y fake grape) it was horribly streaky and kind of gloppy. I was disappointed.

Spring Break

It's this week! Only 4 days until the sweet, sweet beginning of that so-anticipated break. I'm going to Pittsburgh and Rochester, to look at colleges. My dad is having surgery today in Nashville on his ankle, so we don't think he'll be in good enough condition to drive/walk all over college campuses. I'm super excited, though, because I've only been to Pittsburgh once before and I've never been to New York. We might even stop by Niagara Falls on the way home from Rochester, which would be super cool! I just realized that both of the schools I'm seriously considering, RIT and Pitt, have some connection to female relatives...my mom went to Pitt and my Aunt Lisa went to the University of Rochester, which is in the same town as RIT but a different school. So that's kind of interesting, especially considering I've always sworn that I was getting as far away from my family as possible.