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| It's been a while since I've updated my lovely Xanga, due to stupid computers.
A lot of things have happened since April 4th. Finishing 11th grade, visiting my grandmother & great aunt, falling in love, crying my heart out, meeting new people, camps, and becoming a senior.
Tuesday, August 15th, marks the last 'First-Day of High School' for me. It's really exciting, but the entire idea that I am finally a senior hasn't really settled into my skin yet. I mean, I know I am, but I don't want to be. I feel like I'm still a 9th grader in a brand new enviroment, I'm not ready to admit it's time for me finish up.
All of that is a huge oxy-moron, almost, because I'm desperate to get out of Lampasas & finish high school. It's just so different once it finally arrives. You realize it really is time to hunt for as many scholarships as possible and it is the last year you'll REALLY get to see the kids you grew up with.
I can't wait. | | |
| Well, it's been brought to my attention that I need to update, so here goes.
Friday was State Championships down in San Marcos. Holy fuck, I pretty much love that college. The building is all old school, and the gyms aren't all hard-wood, they've got this spongy floor. Love it. We weren't the first to perform and ended up setting the highest standard. I must say, we set them pretty fucking high, with a score of 77.4. Afterwards we went and helped our sister-guard, Harker Heights. They were in a different class and received second place in state, good job, girls! Retreat was long, boring, and the announcer is slow. So after standing in front of this huge crowd, dancing and representing Lampasas poorly on video, Lampasas was announced first place, state champs. We got a huge ass trophy and kick ass banner. Go us! [[That Saturday was drumline at the same place. I was supposed to go, but opted against it since I got home at 3:30 am. They got 7th. Woooo.]]
Today was Concert U.I.L. It's safe to say we kicked immense amounts of ass. We were checking out scores for yesterday and apparently the judges have been pretty tough. Some years they hand out first divisions like free candy and other years you have to work your ass off. This was one of the work hard years, woop. According to Hoopdaddy, we're with the elite. I like that word, it sounds tough, sophisticated, and intelligent. Of course we're all of those, so elite is a good choice. We received first divisions on stage & sightreading and took home a Sweepstakes trophy. Rprrrrznt. =] Those 7am rehearsals I bitched about obviously paid off. Seriously, watch out, Midway.
My algebra grade is smoking that of everyone's in my class, and I'm pretty proud of that. Ok, I'm done tooting my horn! Wait, no I'm not, BEEP-BEEP! Thursday is my birthday. I hate to be someone who rubs that in the faces of all my friends, but I get a bit too excited. Sorry, homies. I guess I just get worked up because... well, I don't know. We'll see why on Thursday!
I've been working on this CD for Andrew, it's starting to be a pain in the ass. I don't have ze laptop hooked up to the Internet, so I have to input all of the artist/record information by hand because I keep finding discs that have amazing songs... and they aren't on my laptop. Good job, Jackay. Gooood job.
THURSDAY IS BAND SOFTBALL!!!! HELLZ YEA!!!
Sorry about that.
Back to this CD. It's like 103 songs, rising every day. I'm pretty leery about it, though. Last time I used this burner it removed a song or two on one CD and put another one duplicated. I was thoroughly disappointed/confused/pissed. So... I doubt he'd be able to notice since there's no concrete layout to it. GOOD LUCK WITH THIS 6.9 HOURS AND GROWING SOUNDTRACK TO MY LIFE, ANDROOOW!!!
[I swear, that Doacego song better be on my disccc. Kthx.]
Phew. Eight more weeks of school, bebeh. Just eight. I'm pretty sure senioritis kicked in about freshman year, but here comes the big blast. Bleeeh. I'm taking two actual college classes and freeing up two classes in my schedule. Hello, work!
I need to shower and get rid of tuxedo-stench.
Au revoir, mon amis!
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| She stares into the mirror every morning, consumed by ugly and self-penetrating thoughts. Every breath she takes fogs the mirror more and more, because she's so close, examining her flaws and ignoring her beauty.
All of a sudden she feels the urge to listen to a different band, the sound of Ben Gibbard's voice is giving her hives and she puts on a record from The Beatles. John's voice puts her in a trance and she sulks back to the mirror. There's a pair of tweezers on the dresser that catch her eyes which will soon catch each misplaced hair in her eyebrow arc. It doesn't take her long to pluck nearly an entire brow away, and then she realizes there is no way to succumb to the laws of symmetry. Don't let her fool you, she'll try. On to the next brow, plucking away at the strays. Soon there's just two thin brows above her eyes, arched to her likings.
The record continues to play as she bends over, releasing the tense build up she's created in her back. Staring at the wall, she glances at a picture of her and her significant other and begins to wonder where she went wrong. She recalled always wearing what she thought appealed to him and being exactly what she thought he wanted her to be. He knew she wasn't real, and she couldn't quite catch on. Beginning to become flustered with past mistakes, she walked back over to the mirror. The lighting is dim and foil is plastered to north window. She sees someone beautiful and lovely, she has no idea how she appears to the rest of the world; fake and depressed.
In her small, dark room, she sees herself as perfect. She stares at the glamour magazines with the models who couldn't dress for a funeral and compares herself. Deep, inside of her, she can't see that's who she is. She sits for hours picking and comparing herself to the models, trying to be perfect. Her hair is short, straight, and a terminal shade of black, while her skin is fair with a slight glow. She wears outrageous amounts of gaudy eye makeup that make her hazel eyes pop out. Underneath her skin-tight jeans and revealing shirts are hip bones that stick out a mile and lanky arms that match her legs.
The record starts skipping, to her surprise, and she drops a magazine, falling back into reality, and decides to fix the malfunction. Instead, she just pops in a Panic! At the Disco disc. Catchy. She still doesn't know who she is, and she drowns far too easily into the marketing world. Nobody can tell her the truth, how lonely she seems and how desperate she comes across, because that would be all too dangerous. Although, do they even know who she is?
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| So, school starts tomorrow, finally. Luckily I don't have an AM rehearsal until Wednesday, and there's only six of them left. YESH! Those stupid 7 a.m. things are pointless, I hate them. Actually, I don't hate them, I just hate the getting up at 5 just to get ready by 6:20. Ughhhh.
I keep getting this stuff in the mail to go to this camp in California this summer. I got the packet today, along with the schedule and what have you. It all seems really interesting, and I have to fill out a scholarship form for it, because I am poor. Woop. So, that means I have to write a huge essay over how this technology stuff has touched me... woooo.
And this entire prom night outing is starting to become difficult. Matt doesn't even know if he can see V for Vendetta because his parents are strict and political. Le sigh, leave it to that to ruin everything. I guess we'll have to see Benchwarmers. It's no big deal, I guess, as long as we're all hanging out and having a good time. But, I'm thinking about a haircut by then. Nothing drastic, I enjoy having long hair again. I'm just going to get rid of these stupid layers, yucky. So, I guess my hair will be a little shorter, but whatevs.
I want ice cream.
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| I went to Dad's today and we just sat around, playing with the dog. And we ordered this pizza from Papa John's, that perfect pan thing that's square with a bunch of meat. Yea, that one. It was good. I've been feeling super crafty, though.
I want to go to this place in Austin that is jam-packed with tons of old things and just buy so much of it. I want a gazillion records, such as The Doors, The Who, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Lynerd Skynerd, Led Zeppelin, etc and make this huuuuge visual with them, kinda like they all make this huge picture, interacting with eachother. And then get a few super old video cameras from the Sixties and Seventies, they have this little crank thing on the side. Somehow they'd play into this visual thing I've got going with the records. The only downside to this is that the place is so damn espensive. I could take the money out of my account, but it's already dwindling. Plus, the guy that works there is sorta creepy. He looks like someone straight out of a carnival. Hope you aren't reading this, Carnivalman. Anyways, I've got to remember this project.
It hailed today and I slept through it. Phew, I hate that stuff. And it's been super foggy here, and wet. It just started raining again, no big deal. I'm happy, all of my roses outside are going to start blooming soon and there's going to be patches of green popping up everywhere. Spriiiing.
Yea. | | |
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