Decisions

I figured while I was waiting for mi clase de español to start, I might as well post a little something, since I haven't in a while. This past weekend was mildly crazy, yet so worth it: camp counselor practice via a little something called "Adventure Weekends"! I'll definitely be going back next month; hopefully it won't be as crazy, we were way overbooked and had over 170 people running around with just ten of us staffing... welcome back to camp, indeed.

Oh! I also managed to scrape a pass on my driver's test last Wednesday, so I'm officially a licensed driver! Woohoo! *does little celebratory dance* Of course, my partying is dampened by the fact that I have neither car, nor insurance, nor job to pay for either of these. Oh well. One step at a time, I guess.

Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about is a scary thing called college. I've been investing time for the past few weeks in looking around for transfer schools. Currently, I'm leaning strongly towards a small public liberal arts school in Maine, but Chapman University here in SoCal as well as Champlain College in Vermont tag along on my list as second and third, respectively. I suppose it's now just a matter of meeting with a counselor and figuring out if I'll even be able to apply for transfer next fall; I don't want that big fat F I got in chem lab last semester to come back to haunt me.

I also need to decide on my major soon. I've already said that I'd like to pursue a major in Creative Writing, but, as my mom so lovingly pointed out a few months ago I'll "need to get a real job" after school. So, here comes the tricky part. I love history. I'd like to teach. So, do I double major in Creative Writing and History, or major in Creative Writing and minor in History? Or should I just forgo the Creative Writing altogether and major in Secondary Education, with an emphasis in History?

It's all very confusing.

Then there's the issue of money, and that's an entire issue by itself....

The only thing I'm really sure about? I want to travel/study/live abroad. If I don't, I shall be a very sad puppy indeed.

Until next time, I suppose. :)

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Summer Skin

Hello, blog. It's been a while.

Granted, not as long as some of the other times before, when I fell off the face of the planet for a few months. Well, here I am, picking this thing up like an old book, finding the place where I left off, and beginning again.

Summer has officially begun, and I've got the sunburns to prove it. Maya calls them sexy. I say, not so much. Me and Morgan went to Texas with our Girl Scout troop, and we hung out at the beach. Yeah. We went to Texas to go to the beach. How awesome are we? ^_^ Pictures here.

The high school prom is tomorrow. I think Jessica is going to a certain "de-Prom" with some mutual friends of ours, but I shall be alone with my thoughts. Sometimes I wish there was an off button for my brain.

I'm also starting to regret not working at camp this summer. I miss it. I need to get up to the mountains this summer, preferrably more than once. And Alaska doesn't count. But I will no doubt love the awesome moutains in Alaska; we're going to visit Denali National Park before we go on our cruise. Yay, caribou and grizzly bears! =)

I'm not sure what else to say. I feel kind of listless and irritable, it's been like this for the past week. I'm not sure what's up.

Well, whatever. Til later, then.

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Laughingstock, and some Musing

Today wasn't so bad in the boredom department. I actually did something, haha. I tried getting up earlier, and it seemed to work initially (I woke up around 8:30, actually) but somehow I ended up falling asleep again, and didn't get up until after 11. Oii. I need to start going to bed earlier so I can get back into the rhythm I had for school.

The wonderfully stimulating activities I partook of today involved biking over to my local Starbucks to meet up with one of my camp buddies, Smurfette. (A camp name, of course. Her real name's Anna. ^^) We ordered our drinks and went over to a corner table to sit down and talk. We ended up spending a little over 2 hours there, but it was great. I miss talking to her, I hadn't seen her since the CIT (Counselor-in- Training) reunion in December.

We got to talking about the drama-filled aspect of our boring lives, and this is where it gets kind of interesting. I don't even know what the heck was up, but this random lady was standing at the booth with all the milk and the sugar and whatever (our table was right next to it) and I guess she overheard our conversation. The kicker, though, was that she deliberately started doing things slower to have an excuse to listen in, and get this: she started laughing. I mean, what the hell? We were more amused than anything else, but honestly, how rude. Maybe she was so overwhelmed with how pathetic our two lives are that she just couldn't help herself. My mom, meanwhile, is convinced she was some sort of writer hunting for inspiration.

Pah. I hope you found it, dork-face.

Seriously, though; is my life that funny? Perhaps. I certainly don't think so (I was telling her about all the lovely Nick-involved drama from last year).

Speaking of which: it may distinguish me as belonging to the highest rung of Loserdom, but today marks 3 months since I've actually talked to him. Why am I keeping track, you may ask? I'm not, I swear. I just realize these things as they come. But now that I do realize it, you can imagine how frustrating it is. Or perhaps not. But it is frustrating, if you want to take my word for it. *sigh*

Anyway, good news for tomorrow: my first concert in ages! Maybe I'll get sucked into a mosh pit. Not that I know how it's possible to even begin to think of moshing to The Rocket Summer, but you never know. Kids are creative these days. o_~

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Exhausted

No entry yesterday, I didn't really even go on the computer at all. Morgan was over for several hours, it was quite glorious; we watched that movie, "Batman Begins" for the first time yesterday... honestly, not bad at all for a comic book movie. The best one I've seen yet, really, and I'm not really into the superhero scene.

Anyway, I'm SO tired; I went up to camp to help out at an encampment, and ended up singing for 4 hours. It's a wonder I still have a voice, really.

A bit angsty because of the winter formal that's going on at the high school right now (memories and futile dreams, how you plague me), but I'm trying not to think about it so much right now. It's easier now that Jessica's actually left for it, I was really bitchy earlier, partly because she was going to borrow maybe my favorite formal dress ever (a floor-length, flowy dark blue dress, it's gorgeous). But she ended up wearing something else at the last minute, so I guess it's all good.

I don't know what it is, really, but I just keep having this bad feeling that I'm going to hear something about Nick later, like he was at the dance with someone or something. A part of me refuses even to contemplate it, rejects it as absurd and just goes on sighing, but is it really so absurd? And it's frightening, because even at the mere half-formed thought I fear I'm terribly jealous. I think it might have something to do with my most recent dream featuring him that I can remember (there have probably been more, but this is the one that really stood out to me). The dream itself was simple enough--I went with him to his prom--but it was by far the most realistic-feeling of the bunch. And just the thought of him being with someone else honestly turns my stomach. I know it's wrong to be thinking like this, I'm not even remotely entitled to be feeling like this, I have no claim, and yet at the same time, I don't think there's any other possible way for me to react to that sort of news.

To make the apprehension of the hour even worse? Maya told me that an old attraction of hers (also named Nick, also formerly in orch with her) is now dating someone. Sign? Gods, I hope not.

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Backpacking

Sweet! Just got back from a final "pack check" for my group...I'm heading up (back) into the East Sierra Nevada come this Saturday, the 4th of August. I'm so excited! This is my second trip up there, and I'm really glad that I'm returning. The lakes and the mountains are so pretty... *happy, contented sigh* I'm thinking that this trip'll be just the thing I need to help me edge away more effectively from my campsickness...at least, that's what worked last year, so I'm banking on it again. I just hope that I don't slide down a tweny-foot rock face this time, that sucked a little bit...my mom said she thought I was gonna die. ^^V

Saw two of my camp buddies on Wednesday...we went out to lunch, and I got to ride in a 2006 Ford Mustang... I can't believe she drives that! *jealous* Anyway, we got to talking a little bit about our respective troubles with certain members of the opposite sex, and she made me promise to email Sean (once I get his email address from someone...I'm not a stalker, I swear...). Honestly, though, I really don't know what, if anything, will come from it. I want to just leave it alone, but getting back in contact with someone never hurt anybody, right?

Anyway, I've got to go eat something, I'm starving...I didn't eat breakfast, minus a few tortilla chips, a granola bar, and some Nutella...nutritious, I know...

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Disillusionment, Harry Potter, and Campsickness

Yay. I'm back.

Well, not really a "yay". I mean, it was awesome to get my grubby little hands on the new Harry Potter book (which is EXCELLENT, Snape is my hero)--not to mention taking an actual shower and sleeping in my own bed--but as is always the case with camp... I don't ever want to leave.

It sucks, this campsickness, it really does. I mean, with homesickness, you know you'll have to return eventually, that you will see the same people you always do once you return. However, the same does not hold true with camp. You can never be sure of when (or if) you'll be able to come back, or who you'll see again. Much like high school, I suppose, but I don't want to get started about that.

Also, things are looking a little better for my nonexistent love life in the idea that I think I am beginning to (God, I hate this phrase) "get over" Sean, who I chatted about last time, I believe. I'm not quite sure what happened, but I think my feelings are starting to relinquish their hold...not that I didn't think about him when I was away, of course I did. Especially when some of the other girls all started talking about their boyfriends...I generally like to steer clear of that sort of talk, and with good reason: I tend to be extremely bitter.

Anyway, here's a poem I wrote while I was at camp, dedicated to all my little buddies:

"Bunkmates"

Mixed up, inside out.

Not exactly sure what to

Think, feel, say.

I never want this dream to

End, this step back up and

Away from "reality", from

"Real" life. Verses slipping

From my cynical tongue,

Emotions rolling from my

Unfeeling fingers...

The first time I've written

In quite a long time. Tears

Streaming unchecked--not

Exactly composed, but it

Works--and I have

No other way to express how

I feel excepting the tight

Embrace, the watery glance,

The calls goodbye. And yet,

As we fly our separate ways

Over lands we've traveled

Together so many times in

Out two weeks that have felt

Like heaven, like complete, blissful

Eternity, I realize that though we

Might be separated, it is never quite

Goodbye.

© dark-hearted rose, 2007. All rights reserved. May not be duplicated without the express permission of author.

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YAY! CAMP!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Camp is great,
Camp is good...
Just don't let me choke
On the camp's crappy food.

- me, improvising.

SEE YA!

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Second Chances and the John Mayer Complex

So, I hate John Mayer. It's nothing personal, I don't know the guy...it's like I'm just genetically predisposed to hate him. But, my philosophy is, all true musicians deserve a chance, and he obviously is a rather good musician, since he can play some amazing guitar...

The problem: I HATE the song "Wonderland" or whatever the hell it is...you know the one I'm talking about. Anyway, to quasi-quote my friend Courtney: "Any guy who sings with an acoustic guitar is only out to get girls." Hahaha...

I keep telling my cousin, Wesley (the ultimate John Mayer fangirl, by the way...yeah, he's a guy, so what? I can call him a fangirl if I want to) that I'll give the guy's music a second chance but I don't know if I want to, really. I don't know if it's worth the effort of shattering several years of expectations and anti-John-Mayer-ism.

Which leads me (sort of) to my next topic... Yesterday, you know I said that Maya and I talked about stuff that we both really didn't feel like talking about yet? One of those things for me involves a guy named Sean...

You see, even though I'm now a high school graduate, the whole situation remains somewhat surreal. I want to move on, but at the same time, I don't want to let go of my past. I know that I won't have to actually "forget" anything (though some things are much, much better left forgotten), but when I say "let go", I mean, well...literally.

I've known this guy, Sean, for well over four years now, but only as a really good friend, nothing more. But then, everything just sort of...happened...at Grad Nite. I mean, of all freaking times to realize that I have feelings for the guy, WHY must it happen the night of our graduation? WHY did I suddenly have to find out that resting my head on his shoulder while sitting on the cold, hardwood floor of our lovely high school gymnasium at four o'clock in the morning is quite possibly the most comfortable I've ever felt with anyone of the opposite sex at any time in my life? And WHY must his hair be so damn soft? (<-- yeah, don't ask) Thus, you now understand why my life (and Maya's, as she is basically going through a number of the same things I am) is officially and irrevocably CURSED.

I guess over the whole week of graduation festivities had been building a case for him (I hung out with him a lot more than usual during those days), but I didn't quite realize it until it was too late. Well, in retrospect...perhaps the last two months of school would be a much better estimate. But, at the time, this awareness, this realization of him...it seemed very sudden. It made me feel, dare I say, giddy. Of course, that might have been the fact that it was Grad Nite, and I'd stayed up all night, but honestly, I haven't felt that way about a guy in quite a long time, so back off.

And, of course, due to the fact that I am and A-class loser and generally a self-preserving twice-bitten-always-shy kinda gal when it comes to confessing things to the opposite sex...he doesn't know anything. I haven't even seen him once this summer since Grad Nite.

I guess you could say that I'm sort of depressed about that.

The sole redeeming factor in this whole "unrequitted, too-late-realized attraction" situation: he's staying local. I mean, he's not living at home or anything like that (like I am...) he's actually moving onto a campus, but at least he'll still be in the general vicinity...perhaps a thirty minute drive from my house, given the butt-load of traffic that usually occupies the freeways nowadays. But I'm not sure if I want to...you know, tell him. I'm not sure if I want to risk our friendship like that, all the more fragile because we won't be seeing each other Monday through Friday at school anymore. Emails, phone calls, the occasional lunch outing...but other than that, nothing really. That is, if we stay friends. Just friends. But I am so unsure of myself, whether or not I actually want to persue a relationship with him, and that kills me. Just like it always does.

I guess I just have to think about it more. But I definitely know one thing: I have to see him again over the summer. More than once would be preferred, but, as the saying goes, "Beggars can't be choosers."

You know, I'm going to a wedding in, like, two hours. I hate weddings. Now, I'll hate this one even more...well, you know what I'm going to be thinking/sulking about all evening.

And I still haven't packed for camp. I guess I should go do that...

*glares at Andrea Bocelli cd I just got from the library, entitled AMOR*
*massive headdesk*

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Well, I WAS in a good mood...

MY. FATHER. IS. AN. EFFING. JERK.

In other news, I leave for camp in two days. I pity my brother and sister, what with the hellhole my house is. (hey, that's sort of an interesting alliteration...)

Saw Ratatouille with some friends earlier...it made me giddy. :D It really is a good (Disney) movie, you should go and see it. I'm in love with the food critic... he looked sort of Tim Burton-esque, and his office(?) was shaped like a coffin, which was a definite plus: In the original novel, The Phantom of the Opera, said Phantom (whose name is Erik, actually) sleeps in a coffin... now you see why I like the food critic? He made me giddy...I couldn't stop laughing, it's like I was high or something. Well, that might have been the Raspberry Mocha Frapp I had earlier (excellent, by the way), but I digress.

Hung out with my friend, Maya, my clone and cursed buddy (long story, I should explain it sometime, but I'm not in the mood). We talked about a bunch of stuff that we really didn't feel like talking about in the first place but we really needed to talk about (yes, that was supposed to confuse you), went to Starbucks for lunch, and walked around this shopping center (The Plaza). Being cursed, I bet her that we would see people we knew, and, sure enough, there was a pile up of assorted people we not only knew or recognized, but we were "cursed" with (again, I'll explain later. Just assume it's a bad thing, trust me.) Then she dropped me off back home, since I still don't have my license.

I also officially turned 17 and a half at 8:45 this evening. Happy half birthday to me...

That's about it. I was going to gush about how happy I was, but that bubble popped a while ago, courtesy of my poor excuse for a father.

...I really need to move out...

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