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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

blarg...

I've hated exercising forever.
I now go for a walk almost every night.
I really like it.
I think being left handed would be sweet.
Sometimes I practice writing with my other hand just to see what it's like.
I have an addiction to Mountain Dew.
My favorite is Mountain Dew Voltage, although I've tried and liked almost every flavor.
I have a mini fridge full of the aforementioned Dew in my bedroom.
When in doubt, medicate.
Sometimes this may involve self-medication.
Because I don't drink or do drugs, self-medication usually takes the form of Mountain Dew.
Which is conveniently located in the fridge in my room.
After one day on the job, I'm confident I will love my job.
Parts of it also scare the crap out of me.
I'm extremely attracted to brown eyes.
I miss being in a relationship. A lot.
Not so much that I'll settle for just anyone.
But enough so that it still stings when people get all mushy in public.
I hate Valentine's Day.
And not because it's commercial. I love buying crap.
That's why Black Friday is so awesome.
But because it's a cruel, sadistic holiday designed to separate the happy people from the lonely people.
I feel like no matter what I do or don't do, I keep losing more friends every day.
This is my third year as a member of the Oregon Marching Band, and I'm still not completely sure I've found my place.
Finding my place may have been further delayed by my choice to drastically switch instruments in the middle of my college career.
Oh well. At least I can feel like I'm one step closer to being able to realistically dream of becoming a badass.
In addition to a clarinet, which I can play fairly well, I also own a flute and a keyboard, neither of which I can play.
Journalism is my other love besides music.
I decided on my major my junior year of high school.
I still don't know what I want to do.
I constantly worry that I'll never know.
I have random music moods, and iPod playlists to accommodate them.
I wish I would have been awesome enough to be in the student section for football my freshman year.
Then maybe it wouldn't seem so strange now when I go to volleyball games.
211 and 415 are my favorite songs that the garter bands play.
For those who don't know, that means "Separate Ways" and the theme from Duck Tales, respectively.
People look at me strangely when I know the words to stands tunes.
I don't really care.
I've passed that age when people think that sounding cool when you talk involves using profanity every other word in every sentence.
It's all about discretion.
I don't care what your religious beliefs are, or even if you have any.
I do care when you make a point to trash mine in front of me.
Especially when I don't do it to you.
I may not be the poster child for piety, but I don't appreciate feeling threatened.
I hate wearing my hair down.
I hate when it's in my face, and it looks terrible.
Which is why it's almost always up.
I miss a lot of people.
Some I will probably never talk to again.
Oh well, that's the way life goes sometimes.
I just wish this didn't happen all the time, with each new group of people I hang out with.
I'm craving egg salad right now.
But I don't know how to make it, and it's almost 11 at night, so Barry's is definitely closed right now.
Not that I want to go to campus right now anyway.
I'm tired of having people my own age act like they're my parents.
I already have some. I don't need more.
Especially when my actual parents don't boss me around that much.
I worry every day that after I graduate college, I'm going to fail at life.
I know a lot of people won't read this, and that's cool.
I won't judge you.
I just need to clear my mind so I can figure stuff out and where to go from here.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Whatever.

You can please most people some of the time, and you can please some people all the time.

This post is dedicated to not being able to please anyone any of the time.

With those impossible odds, why even bother trying anymore?

Friday, September 11, 2009

Wow.

This has been an interesting night.

So Brian and I went to Albertson's to buy a newspaper. As we got out of the car, I saw, across the parking lot, the one car I was not expecting to see.

Yup, that's right. A red 1994 Buick LeSabre.

My initial reaction was one of panic. And my suspicions were confirmed when Brian and I entered the store and I saw HIM in the checkout line. As we were looking for a paper, Ashley, who was with him, saw me and waved. He did the same. Later that evening we had a pleasant conversation on Facebook. Nothing deep or personal, but definitely better than any words exchanged between us in the past year.

I think I've finally hit a point where I can move on, live my life, and not harbor hard feelings toward certain people in my past. Which is definitely a positive. At the very least, I proved to myself that I can be the bigger person.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Ugh.

So much stuff to think about and worry about.

I can't even write right now.