It makes me laugh
Your Birthdate: February 13
Being born on the 13th day of the month should help make you a better manager and organizer, but it may also give you a tendency to dominate people a bit.
You may be more responsible and self-disciplined than you realize.
Sincere and honest, you are a serious, hard working individual.
Your feeling are likely to seem somewhat repressed at times.
You are apt to be much more practical, rational, and conscious of details.
Your intolerance and insistence on complete accuracy can be irritating to some.
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?
'Cause, you know, I'm such an organized, dominating, type-A person. Heheheh...
Whee. Roller coaster is me. I'm going to pick up an associates degree in history just because I can at the end of the summer. (w00t for ...hell, what was it, 9 hours of credit from playing hours and hours of minesweeper in Mr. Simonton's class. Oh, and FODing. Haven't thought about that for a while.)
I'm either really up or really down, and it's beginning to substantially annoy me. Currently, I am down, so I will probably cut this so I don't have to look at it. Grrr at looking at depressive rantings.
f;sajfiew;aj cbrewi;aowejr wrewa;r/oe4
To reiterate the list on my wall for this summer: matriculated, licensed, fit, organized, employed, centered and balanced. Listed in order of declining probability, and generall divided in the following manner. The first two are their fuckin' hoops I have to jump through, the second two are my own fuckin' hoops I feel like I have to jump through before I can function on any kind of level, and the last two are more along the lines of "well, let's get my act together now shall we?". It's somewhat reassuring that I can still be the directionless basketcase we all know and love and still manage to pull off those first few. Reassuring because...well...I am a directionless basketcase, and those things need to get done. And then, it's depressing because I look at it and realize how easily I could just muddle through my entire life as a directionless basketcase, and most people wouldn't even notice. *crawls off into a hole to hide away forevvvvvver...* Not that that's productive, but tis what I feel like doing.
Matriculated-because it's fun to say. And because an associated degree pretty much means a whole lotta nothin', but at least it's something besides high school + random classes. I should stop thinking/journalling in fragment sentences and atrocious grammar, it's bad practice and precedent. I've gotten lazy and fat and complacent in everything I do, and I'm tired of it, I really am. But it's comforting and comfortable to do so. Unfortunately. See? Heheh... ICUP! Ah, third grade humor, what would we do without it.
Maybe I can build a giant robot warrior. And then we will blast off into the sky, doomed to roam the universe in search of injustice and good chocolate.
But anyway, that's the plan. The degree, not the sentence structure or the robot. Although I like the robot plan too. BUT THE SENTENCE STRUCTURE ONE CAN KISS MY ASS, at least for now. *moons grammar and sings a taunting song*
I'm torn between composing a taunting song and getting on with The Plans. The song sounds more fun, but I need to work this out. We shall compromise by writing the one and thinking about the other. Or not.
So, to get the degree, I'm going to be taking classes Alllll summer, in 3 week stretches. This is good, because that's about how long I can manage to give a shit about a class anyhow, so we'll see how it goes. I'm taking an american lit, a cinema, a course about the EU and possibly an anthro course I don't actually have to take, but hey, they're free, because the college doesn't charge anymore for more than 12 than 12. And because of when the required classes are offered, I'd have to be here all summer anyhow, so I might as well pick up more classes.
After that...well, the working plan is to apply to uga, and then go there and take more random classes, which I'll probably end up doing. I really am going to try to come up with a better plan though, because I don't like that one very much. I don't know what better would be...aside from the giant robot idea. But I've never even built a little robot, let alone an artifically intelligent physics-defying one. With rockets. YAY for rockets. (VIVA LA FRAGMENTS!)
I'm going on about the fragments, because my cinema teacher actually cares about the quality of our writing, and is going to give us comments on it. Last time that happened was 10th grade. Fo' shizzle. So typing this made me very aware or how this is just one more goddamn place that I've let everythig slide. Meh. Someday maybe I'll think of something I didn't let slide, and I'll feel better and possibly have a career plan at long last. I used to want to be a physical therapist, but I decided that would be bad for some reason. I don't remember why, but I do remember that it was convincing. No dreams, I'm not allowed them, not if they could actually come true. Except for the secret, secret ones in the back of my brain that are entirely ridiculous, in which I am a famous author/actor/playwright/singer/wizard.
Yes, wizard. I have secret delusions of magical powers, singing, and acting ability. They're all equally true in my case, in that said delusions are completely, totally, absolutely wrong to the same degree. The writing delusion...has some actual basis in fact, sort of, but none in application, so..um...yeah.
I need to go get picked up.
Not like a hooker though. More like a kid.
ariana's thing