Written 2/11/09 at 11:56 p.m.

This has to be one of my worst poems ever written. But I'm trying to get feedback on it. If you have me on facebook or myspace, then let me know what you think. And btw: this in no way reflects my own first time...

I look up

Light slides under the door

And enters the room

My eyes close

I pull the comforter tighter

Around my naked body

The sheets are crumpled at my feet

Images from the past hours

Flash through my mind

I rub my feet together

The room is too cold

And something in my head tells 

Me it shouldn't be like this

The pain

It was too much to bear

A tear slides down my cheek

Light suddenly floods into the room

I know he's back

I turn and face the wall

Pretending to be asleep

His hand touches my shoulder

It's ice cold

I try not to flinch

Givung up, he leaves the room

Footsteps

The front door slams

And he's gone...

I don't care if you hate, well I do. But that's why I'm asking! I need to know how to make myself a better writer. So hit me up with advice and comments and such...

My Final Draft.

Dear Mr. Witt,

Well this is it fucker, how so many people feel. Basically the entire first semester you have made me miserable and just plain pissed everyone off.

 Okay, yes, I could have done more homework. But that shouldn't have been the only thing to keep my grade so low. You don't give anyone a break. I know people that switch out so they're able to maintain their 4.0. There are some of the most intelligent people in our grade that take your course and still come out with only a B+ or an A-. But that isn't even close to the end.

Now, have I mentioned the way you just come off to people? You're sort of tall and fat topped off by greasy black hair with grey streaks in it. You're balding very obviously. It goes to the middle of your head in a sort of half oval shape. Then your face! It's all pig like and squashed in. You're eyes look like the beads people stick on stuff animals. Then there's those big coke bottle glasses that nerds wore in the 80's. I mean if they were retarded back then, then they'll be retarded today. Plus you have leathery looking skin. It just looks like it should be on a couch or something. Now to the rest of you. Remember when we had to discuss with you about our opening statements, but it was during a test so you leaned in closer? Yeah, I smelled your fucking breath. I don't think bus 109 even smells that bad. And if you didn't know, that bus smells pretty foul. Then there's your odor, but it's nothing to out of the ordinary. Just regular smelly body odor. And we haven't even started on your hands. Now I hate my hands very much so, but yours make mine look good enough to be a hand model. Your nails are chipped and broken with a whole bunch of cracks in them. They have that ugly yellowing fungus thing like you see in the commercials. And the skin also has that thick leathery look to it. They wrinkle on knuckles, but it's not like the little amount on other people's. It looks like when you mess up a blanket real bad.

Let's get started on your attitude. You waltz around the classroom like you're better then us. Just because you went to mother fucking Stanford doesn't mean you're any better then me or any other person in your classes. First off we haven't gone to college yet, so you can't judge us. Secondly the type of university someone goes to doesn't necessarily make you a better human being. Oh and just because we don't know the answer to a question we were never asked on a subject we've never covered before doesn't make us bad students! We've been programmed to only read and answer the questions you assign us. Scan the page, answer questions, turn in the homework and move on. Then you assign us a test and we refer back to it to study.

Speaking of tests, yours fucking suck. I remember when you gave us that one on cells or something. You messed up the key AND put information we haven't covered in class before on there. Then wet around like "Oh! I added five points because I messed up." No! You don't do that. What you do is either fix the key or re-test us. Shithead. We each lost 15 points on that one, not just a mere five. That's how basically all of your tests are. At the beginning of the year they dragged on like every single one of them was our final exam.

Don't you even get me started on homework. I may not be in honors English, but my teacher assigned us basically two essays a month, well just about. And then I had three research papers in my Social Studies class. Not to mention my math teacher gave us a unit test every other week so a lot of my time was spent studying for that. Last, but not least I'm in a higher up foreign language, so I had a lot of work in that class.

I guess in all I can't really chalk up a full good reason about why I hate you. But I just do. I detest your guts, and you got a lot of gut to detest let me tell you. Oh and I have a question for you. If you're a high and mighty Stanford graduate, what are you doing teaching a high school tenth grade biology class? Just wondering is all. Because you're so intelligent and all that jazz.

So, I was talking with my therapist. And I do say good things about you. Like how you're smart and graduated Stanford. But I think that's about it... Anyways! She simply thinks you have a different teaching style than most do. And I have to say that I agree with her. I mean, reflecting over our homework than showing us a webpage, and assigning us new homework is definitely different. But isn't exactly the best way to teach us the stuff we need to know in order to pass the science WASL, which is coming up quite soon. And not that it matters since we don't need to pass it, which just shows how unimportant science really is in our everyday lives. All we need to is pass the reading and writing section. Which I don't understand since math is super crucial. But whatever. I just thought I'd let you know all of this because I believe that I may burst out in class and just bitch you out. But you're not worth getting suspended over so this feels so much better.

Love,

An Adoring Student  

P.S: I did this in Times New Roman 12 pt. font just for you :]

shit talker.

heykids;

Before you dip yourself in your shallow pool of wit, let me paint you a picture and save us both the trouble. You’re going to go around to your mindless hanger-ons calling me all the words that are in the English language to define a prostitute, laugh it off, and roll your eyes at me every chance you’ll get, but I wont stoop down to your level. You can’t simply assume who I am by words passed along currents of gossip. I am more than you perceive. I am more than a label you stick on a person by a perspective of an instigator. I haven’t the time nor the patience for silly junior-high/high-school drama. Honestly you’ve hit rock bottom to bring down others’ self-esteem to boost yours. You’ll see when you’ve stepped into adulthood that this entire petty and frivolous manner doesn’t pay off. You are just wasting your own time starting something that I won’t bother to take another look at. Just let go of the nonsense and grow up.

Let me get this straight. I did not write the above. I found it on another blog. But I whole heartedly agree with it. It seems to suit me too. Since people walk around our school calling me a slut. There's no reason for that bullshit. Let me get another thing out there, I am not virgin. But that doesn't make me a whore. Just because a girl has had sex doesn't mean she automatically goes around screwing every guy she meets. If you kids found out a guy was doing that then he'd be a god in your eyes. Being able to "tap that ass up." But no, if you look back in history it's a common double standard of society. The guy gets all the glory, the more he can score. While the girl can do the same and yet you call her a whore. I just don't understand why it has to be like that. Asdfghjkl; The whole thing just pisses me off to no end. Especially because my guy best friend screws around with a lot of girls. And all the guys I know that hang out with him just worship him. Fucking stupid.

Hearts Day

Heeeey people. What holiday is coming up in only ten short days? You guessed it! Valentine's Day. Someone shoot me, it might make it less painful to endure.

You Are My GPS

It was actually the last blog where I said that I based a portion of my blogs based off of secrets from PostSecret. But today I'm going to break the mold. I was listening to one of my favorite songs about ten minutes ago. And the lyrics just kind of hit me. The artist is the friend of a boy from South Carolina that me and Jenny are in LOVE with. Heh heh. They do music videos of techno songs that are absolutely hilarious! Anyways, this kid is pretty talented. If you have me on Myspace, it's the fourth song on my playlist. Well the end of the song is what caught my attention. I don't think I've ever listened to it 100% all the way through, so the end never really sunk in.

Lets wait for the nightlight
Your eyes feel the fright
And i will still hold you, things will all be alright
Let's soar through the nations while we play pretend
I am so happy to call you my best friend

I'm best friends with this guy I've been off and on with. It's kind of a weird relationship. We can go from hating each other to laughing about some old inside joke in two seconds flat. I have to say I adore the boy. It's like no matter what happens with us, we can act like it never happened and just push past the awkwardness. I've been through everything with him. And I do mean everything. Haha. You wouldn't get it. He knows things about me I'm too scared to tell Tarsi or even Jenny. I could call him at 3 a.m crying and expect to hear his car pulling over the gravel in ten minutes time. If you looked up loyal this boy would be right there, his big cheesy grin flashing through the page. He doesn't know how much I depend on him to be there. I think I take him for granted. If he were to pack up and move, my whole world would fall apart. That sounds incredibly selfish, but it's true.

Good Morning Early Risers

For whatever reason, we seem to get addicted to PostSecret.com. I am one of those many people out there that right after checking Myspace, run and scroll through the various secrets. Hence, why I chose to use them to kind of set up my blog post for that day. This, however, is not what my entry is about today. It is 6:02 a.m on Saturday January 31st, 2009. I am wide awake. Haven't slept a wink all night. This a big thing. I always am able to sleep at least a couple hours unless something huge happened to me. Nothing out if the oridinary occurred yesterday. I got up. Got dressed. Watched a movie. Took a shower. Walked to the bus stop. Saw my ex. Changed buses. Arrived at my mom's house. I guess what I'm thinking here is that seeing him affected me more than I wanted it too. On Thursday we had been messaging. Nothing major, just a casual conversation. He happened to mention that he missed me. It was no big deal, since I try not to get attached and "miss" people when they're gone. But to tell you the truth, I was a little pissed. Because not only was he there. He was there with his arm around a girl. And it's not that the fact that he was with a girl that pissed me off. It was the fact that just the day before he had told me he missed me. And it would be a whole other thing if he hadn't had his arm around her. During bus rides I'm usually quite friendly and chatty with people if I'm by myself. But the entire ride from 185th ST to Northgate Way, I stared at the window. I couldn't even look back at him. I can't begin to explain why this was so difficult for me today. Do you know? It'd be nice if you could clue me in on it. All I've thought about is his arm gently wrapped around her waist. I like the bus. Today I learned how to hate it.

This Is For Katie Wachholz

Well this is it fucker, not Katie, I love her. This is my final goodbye. This entire semester you have made me miserable, kept me out of two gymnastics meets and just plain pissed everyone off. Yes, I could have done more homework. But that shouldn't have been the only thing to keep my grade so low. You don't give anyone a break. I know people that switch out so they're able to maintain their 4.0. There are some of the most intelligent people in our grade that take your course and still come out with only a B+ or an A-. And have I mentioned the way you look!? Sorta of tall and fat with greasy black hair and grey streaks in it. You're balding very obviously. It goes to the middle of your head in a sort of half oval shape. Then your face. It's all pig like and squashed in. Those big coke bottle glasses that nerds wore in the 80's. If they were retarded back then, then they'll be retarded today. Plus you have leathery looking skin. Now to the rest of you. Remember when we had to discuss with you about our opening statements? But it was during a test so you leaned in closer. Yeah, I smelled your fucking breath. I don't think bus 109 even smells that bad. And for those of you that ride it, you know how bad that bus stinks. Then there's you B.O, nothing to out of the ordinary. Just regular body odor. And we haven't even started on your hands. Now if you know me then you should know that I hate my hands. But yours make mine look good enough to be a hand model. Your nails are chipped and broken. Then have that ugly yellowing fungus thing like you see in the commercials. And the the skin also has that thick leathery look to it. They wrinkle on knuckles, but it's not like the little amount on other people's. It looks like when you mess up a blanket real bad. Now for your attitude. You waltz around the classroom like you're better then us. Just because you went to mother fucking Stanford doesn't mean you're any better then me or any other person in your classes. First off we haven't gone to college yet, so you can't judge us. Secondly the type of university someone goes to doesn't necessarily make you a better human being. Oh and just because we don't know the answer to a question we were never asked on a subject we've neve covered before DOESN'T MAKE US BAD STUDENTS! We've been programmed to only read and answer the questions you assign us. Scan the page, answer questions, turn in the homework and move on. Sorry we don't remember a movie that we watched three days ago for which half of us were asleep during and can't remember the tiniest little details. You've probably watched it for however many years you've worked as a Biology teacher, and that has to be one hell of a long time. Plus you have five biology classes so you probably know the dumb movie by heart. We don't. And I don't give a fuck. It's a sad movie, but three hours long and kind of boring. Not gonna lie. So I guess I could go on a little bit more about how much I hate you. But I need to get to bed. Seeing as today was hopefully my last day with you, then I'm On My Way. Peace bitch.

Sorry Katie Loverly, But This Is What's On My Mind.

And this blog is about me today. I'm saving the rant for the last day I will have him. Look for it Weds, I promise! Anyways, most people who know me, know that I live with both my parents. Half the time in Shoreline and the other half in Lake City. Since I don't curretly have a license or car. I am forced to take the bus back and forth. It's not a bad ride, about an hour each way. And I have my iPod to keep me company. But I just hate the fact I have to live like this. I know, I know. Plenty of people get divorced. Hence, why I don't believe in love. But that is an entirely different subject. I love both my parents. My mom is helluh chill with me and allows me to do a lot that I don't normally get to do. But my dad makes sure I do my homework and keep my grades up. They worked so well together. I don't know what made them split. It's been almost 9 and 1/2 years since it happened. July 22nd, 2000. I'll honestly never forget that day. We had gotten home around 9 p.m. from a Mariners game and naturally I had run down the street to Michelle's house to flaunt my new souvenirs. I then proceeded back up the hill to my house at around 9:30ish. I walked in the door to find my mom crying on the sofa. I asked her what was wrong and she told me "daddy doesn't love mommy anymore." Keep in mind I was a mere child at age 7. I then proceeded to wander back down the block to Michelle's again and inform her that my parent's had split. My mom accompanied me as Michelle's mom was her best friend at the time. I slipped into the bathroom with Michelle and Mason, her brother one year my junior, as to avoid her visiting cousins who I didn't know well enough for them to overhear our conversation. I don't know for how many months I cried myself to sleep after that. But it was well into my 8th birthday for sure, which is in November. I just couldn't deal with driving from Lake City to West Seattle, my dad's residence back then. And then on the frightful day of August 24th, 2002, Jill moved in and my life has been in a downward spiral ever since. I'd go on about her. But that could take up far to much room.

I Have A Question

Do you guys think that you're able to miss someone you talk to frequently, but know almost nothing about? That even if you feel like you don't like them, hearing about them kiss someone else still makes you hurt inside? And even though you know you should forget about them, you want to keep going after them because you think you could have a chance anyways? I think so. And I do. To all of those questions. Who is this guy? Well no one will know but me. For once I'm going to keep who I like a secret. If he figures out who he is and feels the same way, more power to him. Go on and ask me out, because I will say yes. But the chances of him doing either are very slim to none. So I'll move on and talk to him day to day. Act like everything's normal and I'm fine being just friends. Because I am. Just not 100% is all. In a way I hope you read this and know it's you. But in another way I don't want you to know. That way if you don't return the feelings I don't feel as pathetic inside. Even though I have no way of knowing if you read this or not. I guess I just wrote this all down for no reason. Or a slightly unconcious reason I haven't become aware of yet. I don't know. But I think I'll start doing this everyday again. It's just before I was in a large emotional funk. I talked through it with my best friend Jenny and I feel like 1000x better then I did before. Just writing all of this down and putting it out there makes me feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my chest.

Fuck This

no one cares about how i feel or what i think. so i'm done with blogging. peace.

08bama!

I think it's quite obvious to tell who I would have voted for if I had been able to vote. The first black president was sworn in today. I got to watch it during math class. It was quite intense. Really funny when he and Biden messed up on their oaths though.

Peace is The Way

I know what you're thinking. She's just another peace preaching, tofu eating, non-shaving hippie. That is not true. First off, I do shave. Everyday. I make a point to. Secondly, I do believe peace has a chance. Especially with our first black president being sworn in tomorrow! You have no idea how excited I am that it's him and not McCain. I'm neither a Republican or a Democrat. I'm a Liberal I guess. Haha. But it's not that I don't like McCain, it's if the guy drops dead, and he is old y'all, we'd have to deal with Palin as our President. Not cool whatsoever. Anyways, I was talking about peace. Well I believe it's super important that we at least give it a try. I know, I know. All the big boys wasnt to whip out their guns whenever there's a dispute. But if they just tried talking things out, they could how much easier it really is. Instead of lying and making up stories about why they lied about WMD, they could just tell us that they fucked up. I believe people would have respected him more if he had done that. And yes, I do know they flew planes into the World Trade Center. It was horrible. But worse has happened. I mean look at Pearl Harbor. Not to mention the Black Plague, the Depression and the wars. More people have been killed in those, not combined mind you, then in 9/11. It just seems bigger to us because it has happened in our lifetime. Well my point was if you fight fire(terrorist attacks) with fire(iraq war) then you'll get and inferno, not a solution.

The Secret Life of Bees

Tonight I went to the movies. I don't think I would have gone to see this movie if the person I had gone with hadn't suggested it. The Secret Life of Bees was an astonishingly good film. I don't regret going to see it. In fact I would have to say everyone should go see it. It touches on so many important topics and feelings. Abuse, death, racism, love, hate. These are things we face everyday. Well not so much racism anymore. Thank god. There were so many moments in the movie I felt like I was just about to break down and cry. It is one of the best movies I have seen. Possibly ever. You know those things that you can't explain why they're so great, they just are? This would be one of those things. Kind of like Nick Jonas and Ryan Shecklar. Anyways I seem to find myself staying up late just to write in this dumb blog. It's nothing special too. No beautifuly written entries with lucious vocabulary. Just the thoughts that flow out of my head, to my fingers, onto the keyboard and through into the screen. I highly doubt anyone even reads this. But there's something about knowing that your thoughts can end up somewhere else besides taking up real estate with all the other stupid teen drama in your brain. It's like having your own venting machine. Like diaries are for seven-year olds. But this wastes less trees and our hands don't seem to cramp up as easily. People in love aren't noted for using their brains. That's what my mom once told me. But what is love exactly? In my group of kiddos I'm known for being the pessimistic of the bunch. I may of have said this all before. But it's what I believe in. And if you have things to say, be prepared to repeat over and over again to drill into people's brains. I. Do. Not. Believe. In. Love. But I am a hopeless romantic. Let me break it down for you; being in love and believing in romance are two very different things. I can be a romantic and never fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I would absolutely adore falling in love. Having someone to share the rest of your life with. It sounds blissfully perfect. But there's the snag right there. Perfect, it's not something that's real. All the relationships around me have fallen apart. My mom and dad's. Both my grandparents. My aunt's marriage of five years. My uncle and his girlfriend of eight years. My best friends parents. Etc... Etc... Rinse and repeat. All the people I look up to have had failed relationships. As for me, I can't seem to keep someone around for more than two and half months. Nothing I do is good enough for anyone to stand me. I want to be with someone and have them do the cute little things like I see in the movies. Why isn't life that sinple?

Gymnastics and Friends...

This would be the amazing J.V team (: Just thought I'd share them with you tonight. We did amazing in our meet. Got 3rd place beating the 4th place team by over 19 points. Yeah, we're just that good. Took 2nd place on beam btw... Haha. Although it took up almost 1/3 of my day, I still really enjoyed it. But it sucked because I could only do 1 event, instead of 3 like usual, because I missed practice on Tuesday. I had forgot my leotard -_- Which is really dumb but whatever. Oh and this other girl got bumped up to varsity. In my opinion she's good, but definetly not good enough to be varsity. And she's only good on 1 event, but whatever. It was the coaches decision, not mine. This upcoming Saturday is our last meet as a full team. Then it's districts and hopefully state. I've gotten a lot better on bars, but I ripped last Thursday and so it hurts. Like a lot because it's sort of big and really easy for dirt and chalk to get into it. And that hurts. Do you guys have a best friend? I do. Several of them actually and that lovely lady with me above to be like the best. Anyways, everyone should have a BFFL (best friend for life) they help a lot. It's nice to know that there's someone out there who knows you better then you know yourself, even when you seem to know yourself pretty damn well. When the world says "give up", they'll whisper "try one more time." Why am I so hung up on good friends? Because, and this is a cliche, I have no idea where I would be without them. Tarsi and Jenny seem to make me face reality everytime I go off track. Chrissy and Alan are always there to give me a great time when I feel like shit. Charlotte and Lisa keep me on the straight and narrow as my goody-goody, in a good way, friends. Lastly, all the ones that have walked out of my life; Michelle S was my best friend for 15 years and then just up and stops talking to me. She gave the best years. I was able to experience so much and meet new people with her. This brings me to Natalie, really good friends for around 3 years. I was introduced to drugs and drinking with her. But those were good as well as bad times. She also showed me that it was okay to speak your mind and have a fun time with life. Finally, KK. 4 years of friendship goes bye-bye over a boy. A boy. Yeah, retarded. I could tell her almost anything. With her I was able to just rant and bitch about whatever. But I lied about how I felt, and lost her trust. Thus, it was my fault. This is really of no importance to anyone else. But I place friends higher on the list then breathing when it comes to what matters in life.

Peer Pressure?

I've just lately seemed to notice how much peer pressure is all around us. Not just to drink, do drugs, be super skinny or have great muscles etc... But how much there is just to do simple everyday things. Such as go inside if you're cold.
"but i don't want to."
"you're cold, go in!"
"fineeee..."
Just simple shit like that can start it. Because if people think they have the least bit of control over you, then they will keep it and have it. We live in a power hungry nation. There's no denying that fact. We want money. We want power. We want it now. And it's not a bad thing, although it can be. We just like having the upper hand. No one wants to feel weak and powerless. So why do we allow ourselves to give into peer pressure?

Well tonight I don't have a whole hell of a lot to say. Tomorrow I should though since we have our meet and I'll be talking and stuff. This blog is basically bullshit where I can just write down whatever I'm feeling at the time.

Something Is Wrong

I eat. I like to eat. It's a common fact of life. I can out eat almost any guy that I know, that is with the exception of my dad. But lately I don't want to eat anything. I try to eat when I'm not hungry but it just doesn't seem to do any good. I'm not fat or anything. I weigh in at a mere 125 pounds. But that's mostly muscle. Aha. I'm not trying to sound conceited, it's just what my doctor told me. Plus I've been falling asleep at the most random times. Most nights I can't fall asleep until 2 in the morning, others I conk out 5:30 p.m. I just don't get it. I feel sick all day. I can never go through the day without wanting to puke or actually puking.

On a happier note we have a meet this weekend. I missed practice on Tuesday, which sucked butt hole. I compete three events out of four. I used to do vault, but I've been crap at it lately. And I was supposed to do floor last weekend. There was this whiney little frosh that didn't want to do beam so the only way the coaches could get her to compete was to put her on floor and bump me off. In my opinion it was a bad coaching decision they should have just not let her compete period. She annoys the shit out of almost everyone on the team. Anyways, I'm really excited for Saturday. I love to compete. Unlike practice it helps me see what I need to improve. The judges take off for every fucking thing, but it still lets me see where I'm bad.

There's Nothing

Sometimes I just like to listen to the same song over and over again. If it's a particulary good song then it never seems to get old. This really seems to be the case with "There's Nothing" by Sean Kingston ft. The Dey. I've been bumping it while I do my biology homework. And let me tell you, that isn't a light load of assignments. But that's saved for the blog below.

Anyways, I kind of like this guy. I met him during my mortifying Friday night. But somehow he still talks to me. I know, crazy right? Yeah. I talk to him a lot and he seems like a really cool guy. The only problem is I barely remember what he looks like... And I'm not trying to say that it's all about outter beauty, because it isn't. It would just be nice to know what he looked like. Call me crazy and all that.

Other than that there isn't that much to say on this day or night. Except: watch the show True Beauty on ABC. Funny as hell. Ahaha.

Random Talking.

You know how I just talked about what happened to me last Friday night? The really dumb and stupid thing I did? Somehow it's ended up over school, and I now have people asking me what happened. I can only blame myself since I told a couple people about it. But what the fuck was I thinking when I thought I could trust them? I just want to know....

Today I watched one of my all time favorite movies, Say Anything which stars John Cusack, who is probably one of my favorite actors. But I swear that movie always makes me feel so hurt no matter how much I adore it. I don't believe in love so it's kind of hard to take romance movies, like this one and other of my favorites, seriously. Being a very strong pessimist makes being with optimistic people difficult. And they make up a majority of my friends. A lot of my buds have a special someone to share life with and I just can't seem to hold down a guy. I meet a nice guy and it's great at first. But then I usually screw it up somehow. My point, and I do have one, is I want to know why can't my life turn out to be like the movies just once?

One of these days I'm going to bitch out Mr. Witt, my annoying shit of a biology teacher. Now I'm one of those weird kids that can actually enjoy school if given the chance. But he just takes not doing anything to a whole other level. All we do is take notes from the book, have him review our homework, and assign new homework that takes twenty hours to complete. Oh and we have like one test a month and ALL of our tests seem like a final. No, that's a lie. I liked the one today because it was super easy. But also the second one in less then a week. This time I'm trying to say the man doesn't do shit. We end up having to teach ourselves and it takes the fun out of it. Biology is kind of interesting and I normally hate anything to do with science... But he is just asdfghjkl; No words can describe the torture this man ensues upon us. It's hard to understand unless you've personally dealt with him. And in my opinion he looks like a child molester.

My First Time .

I've never done this before. Here goes nothing.
Damn. I still feel like I have a killer hangover. I got way wasted Friday night. Basically made a total ass out of myself in front of a guy I thought was cute. Well, that's typical for me. Not the getting sloshed part, but the making an idiot of myself part. I definitely don't want to go to school tomorrow. I didn't get any homework done because I spent Saturday at a gymnastics meet. My parents still made me go to it. Which was good, I placed on bars even with the worst hangover. And then Sunday was spent sleeping and sneaking onto the computers around the house. Now I'm sitting here procrastinating with only ten minutes left on my school laptop, and I still need to take a shower...

I had a lot of time to think on the two hour bus ride to Bellingham yesterday, even though it was spent sleeping half the time. Anyways, I mostly thought about my past and how the hell I could have ended up where I am today. Don't get me wrong for the most part I love my life. But I'm just not at a position I want to be in. I'm not the honor student or the star athlete. I don't fit into any one particular mold. When I was younger, academics and sports were my life. But then I met people that muct have changed how I viewed the world. Suddenly all I cared about was chasing a high and getting some booze. I want to go back in time and fix whatever inside of me got rearranged. I want to be six again.

Hi To The New Year: I promise this year will be different....