Then and Now

If I can barely stand to say goodbye for the night, how am I supposed to say goodbye forever?

Unprovoked Response

This probably seems rather obvious to all of you, but I don't like posting about emotional things. I do actually find talking about such things almost therapeutic and I'm sure I've discussed some problem with each of you reading this. Writing serves pretty much the same purpose: making things a tad bit easier to cope with, or at least understand. If I can cohesively put everything down on paper or monitor I might actually have a chance at discovering what's going on this little mixed up head of mine. So when it comes down to it, the only thing I'm not comfortable with is publishing what I've written for all the world (or at least 5 of its people) to see. Perhaps it has something to do with me being accustomed to everyone thinking I'm a cold, heartless monster. Maybe I just like keeping my own secrets (which I'm simultaneously getting better and worse at doing). However, I think that, above all, I just find it a tad bit weird that some people would so impersonally offer up such personal information. I meant I love all of y'all, but I'm not going to just hand out everything I think on a silver platter. The purpose of a blog is merely to provide a format in which to write, and then to optionally share. The writing's the important part, not the sharing (though I guess I don't really need a blog if I all I want to do is write about stuff). Just because I don't post too often doesn't mean I haven't written anything, it just means that I haven't written anything I want you (or some other specific person) to read.

Thought Process

The first thing that popped into my head after hearing about recent events at North Hills: "Wow, that sounds like some poorly conceived, Latin-American military coup." The second thing: Dumbledore's Army.

Distance

I'm too tired to think of something witty to put as filler here, so I think I'll just save that for some other time. Here's a table of how far away (by car) I will be from everyone if I go to Rhodes College. As you'll probably notice, I am nowhere near anyone! I'm still not sure if that's a good or a bad thing, at least regarding most people. Well anyways, voila:

Person	Their College	Distance (miles)	Time by Car (hours)
Erin	Mississippi	218	3.5
Deirdre	St. Louis	288	4.75
Claire	LSU	384	6
Katie	Tulsa	403	6.5
Chandler	UD	466	7.5
People	UTD	461	7.5
Sarah	TCU	491	8
Bibb	Abilene	635	10.5
Gabe	UT Austin	649	10.5
Isaac	St. Edward’s	653	10.75
Beth	Elon	681	11
Richa	Duke	714	11.5
Alex	GW	869	14
Lana	GW	869	14
Isabel	Catholic University of American	875	14
Eric	Cal Poly	1933	31

Phrasing

In English class:

Isaac: "I think we should tie Beth to a tree and do stuff to her."

Us: o_O

Isaac: "No, I mean we can do bad things to her!"

Us: O_O

Isaac: "No, nothing sexual! We can just shove stuff down her throat."

Us: O_O

Later:

Me: "You know, Beth, you're trapped by three dudes."

Isaac: "Ya, if you try to escape I'm gonna spear you!"

~cue immature giggling~

Quote of the Day:

"IF YOU'RE NOT ****ING A BUS, YOU'RE NOT A METROSEXUAL!"

~Zangulus on idiotic made up words

Balloons

1 hour planning. 45 seconds blocking the stairs while covertly getting spare key from Becca. 1 day realizing that those plans won't work. 30 minutes planning a second idea. 2 hours shopping at Walmart. 4 hours going to an awesome concert. 25 minutes eating at Whataburger. 3 seconds for Dale deciding to help. 20 minutes scoping out the territory while driving to Julie's. 5 minutes standing outside and tapping on Julie's window like creepers. 1 hour blowing up 45 balloons. 10 minutes loading said balloons into cars. 5 seconds realizing we have no where near enough balloons. 20 minutes driving to Walmart. 5 minutes finding balloons. 3 minutes buying 60 of them. 20 minutes driving back to Julie's house while blowing up said balloons. 3 minutes gathering supplies at Julie's. 5 minutes driving to Beth's. 2 seconds opening car doors. 1 second watching in horror as several balloons escape. 2 minutes collecting loose balloons. 15 seconds walking to the gray Hyundai Sonata. 4 seconds getting out spare key. .5 seconds turning key left. 2 seconds failing to open door. .5 seconds turning key right. Same .5 seconds setting off car alarm. 2 seconds soiling our pants while making panicky eye contact. 7 seconds bolting to back to own cars. .1 seconds deciding not to jump in through open window. 5 seconds opening door and sitting. 4 seconds trying to start car with the spare key. 3 seconds panicking. 2 seconds looking out window and checking top of the car. 3 seconds almost knocking keys off of car. 2 seconds attempting to start car without brake down. 5 seconds revving engine while not realizing that the accelerator is down and not the brake pedal. 1 second putting car into gear. 20 seconds getting the **** out of there. 10 minutes driving back to my house. 5 minutes calming down and explaining the situation to my mom. .1 second realizing we'd left tissue paper on her car. 1 second of analyzing for Dale to drop the obligatory f-bomb. 10 minutes driving back to Julies to change cars. 5 minutes driving by Beth's testing the remote key. 1 second sigh of relief at it working. 1 minute finding an out of the way parking spot. 5 minutes sneaking through alleys and side yards up to the car. 10 seconds crawling up to tissue paper. 2 seconds sprinting back through said alleys and side yards to Julie's car. 5 minutes driving back to Julie's. 10 minutes driving back home to retire for the night.

Who knew asking someone to Prom could be so intense?