Here we are once more.
I am graduating today. In a few hours. In one hour I will be at the Baccalaureate service, practicing my speech. It rained last night, and I don't know if that means that they will move the ceremony to downtown, but I would really like to graduate on Hamline's campus.
This is a scary time. It's a right of passage, you know... but I'm not sure I'm ready to pass. I have a lot of things ahead of me, I know, but I also have a lot of things behind me that I know I won't be able to have back. It's hard to journal about. Plus I'm really tired--I haven't been sleeping a lot because I keep staying up really late and then getting up early in the morning.
I've had my livejournal for a really, really long time. There are entries in here from before I started high school. Granted, they're not juicy entries, and most of them are screaming fangirl comments, but still. That's a long time ago. Eight years. My grandfather said something to me the other day about something happening 16 years ago--and it was a story about me--and I was like, whoa, we have memories of me from double digit years ago? Whoa. But it's true. There are memories from that long ago. (Apparently when my grandfather had heart surgery, I went into the hospital with my plastic doctor's kit toy and pronounced him well.)
I also got rather tipsy drunky with my grandparents, mother, dad, brother, and step-mother, and that was kind of a trip. It was great fun, though. We had some good laughs. My mom has this story about me and my brother as little kids and macaroni on the floor. Apparently we were playing zoo, and my mom didn't want to give us our macaroni in the zoo (aka the carpeted steps) because we would get it all over the floor. Lo and behold we did it anyway, and when my mom said "There's macaroni on the floor," we had completely different responses. I argued that it was completely inevitable that there would be macaroni on the floor, and that it was really okay, because it had to happen, or whatever, and my brother goes: "What macaroni? That's not macaroni! That's not the floor!"
Haha. Justification and denial in one household. ^^;
Mmg. Graduation makes me feel a little sick to my stomach. But you know what? I feel better knowing that I have the means to travel. And I can get temp work. I know I can. I can get temp work.
Ten bucks says I spend all of graduation balling.
This is a scary time. It's a right of passage, you know... but I'm not sure I'm ready to pass. I have a lot of things ahead of me, I know, but I also have a lot of things behind me that I know I won't be able to have back. It's hard to journal about. Plus I'm really tired--I haven't been sleeping a lot because I keep staying up really late and then getting up early in the morning.
I've had my livejournal for a really, really long time. There are entries in here from before I started high school. Granted, they're not juicy entries, and most of them are screaming fangirl comments, but still. That's a long time ago. Eight years. My grandfather said something to me the other day about something happening 16 years ago--and it was a story about me--and I was like, whoa, we have memories of me from double digit years ago? Whoa. But it's true. There are memories from that long ago. (Apparently when my grandfather had heart surgery, I went into the hospital with my plastic doctor's kit toy and pronounced him well.)
I also got rather tipsy drunky with my grandparents, mother, dad, brother, and step-mother, and that was kind of a trip. It was great fun, though. We had some good laughs. My mom has this story about me and my brother as little kids and macaroni on the floor. Apparently we were playing zoo, and my mom didn't want to give us our macaroni in the zoo (aka the carpeted steps) because we would get it all over the floor. Lo and behold we did it anyway, and when my mom said "There's macaroni on the floor," we had completely different responses. I argued that it was completely inevitable that there would be macaroni on the floor, and that it was really okay, because it had to happen, or whatever, and my brother goes: "What macaroni? That's not macaroni! That's not the floor!"
Haha. Justification and denial in one household. ^^;
Mmg. Graduation makes me feel a little sick to my stomach. But you know what? I feel better knowing that I have the means to travel. And I can get temp work. I know I can. I can get temp work.
Ten bucks says I spend all of graduation balling.