(no subject)
So my last academy interview was today. It was with shaw (or at least a commitee of his). And my blue and gold officer (basically a person who's job is to like me, not a bad gig) was on the board. So he asked me how the football season was, and he's been over to my house and we talked about thespians. And we had a great time, and it was an awesome interview. And one of my life's most defining moments, will be decided within a week. I'm surprisingly calm. But if I make it we'll all go out to some club and buy virgin daquiri's and non-alchoholic beer. On me of course.
I had this weird dream, that I got bone cancer. And that I was dying, and everyone acted like they would've had it really happened. And you all passed with flying colors, normally I don't remember or don't have dreams. But this was weird. On several levels. At the very least I know I'm loved, or I think I'm loved. They have about the same effect on a person.
So I have a night where I'm free, and I'm ready to talk online and all that jazz, but nobody's on. Phooey.
So I hear 'frick' is going to become a demerit. Frick.
It's about time I got myself one of them demerits, although I'll have to try because no one ever busts me for uniform. And hair? Not likely. And I never have gum. It's pretty bad, I know. So what am I supposed to do? I'll bring an MP3 player or wear a hat, or something else I can attribute to the forgetfulness I seem to be cursed/blessed with.
Not only am I forgetful, but I am easily lost on roads. This makes dating very awkward, because 9 out of 10 times, we'll/I'll be lost without hope. And the concert tickets will still be on my desk. Patiently awaiting me to remember them.
But whatev...I just have to make up for it with my manly muscles and boyish charm...PAUSE...NOT!!
I love rhapsody. I love itunes. I love sirius satalite radio. So superior to the windows media player/88.1 wayfm of old.
All of life at CCA seems to be nearing its completion, and perfect endings seems like such a paradox. Perfect things don't end. Not that CCA is perfect, in between dodging Payton and forgetting my choir music everyday, its pretty insane. No joke. But there's something about forgetting your locker combination, and wasting time in G's office. Getting an A on a test, and getting a F on a test. That makes highschool, that makes life. And its not getting eternal 6's on my essays in Ap english, and its certainly not putting up with student government, its the people.
And so to all the poeple that go to CCA.
The people who make my life happy.
Thank you.
I had this weird dream, that I got bone cancer. And that I was dying, and everyone acted like they would've had it really happened. And you all passed with flying colors, normally I don't remember or don't have dreams. But this was weird. On several levels. At the very least I know I'm loved, or I think I'm loved. They have about the same effect on a person.
So I have a night where I'm free, and I'm ready to talk online and all that jazz, but nobody's on. Phooey.
So I hear 'frick' is going to become a demerit. Frick.
It's about time I got myself one of them demerits, although I'll have to try because no one ever busts me for uniform. And hair? Not likely. And I never have gum. It's pretty bad, I know. So what am I supposed to do? I'll bring an MP3 player or wear a hat, or something else I can attribute to the forgetfulness I seem to be cursed/blessed with.
Not only am I forgetful, but I am easily lost on roads. This makes dating very awkward, because 9 out of 10 times, we'll/I'll be lost without hope. And the concert tickets will still be on my desk. Patiently awaiting me to remember them.
But whatev...I just have to make up for it with my manly muscles and boyish charm...PAUSE...NOT!!
I love rhapsody. I love itunes. I love sirius satalite radio. So superior to the windows media player/88.1 wayfm of old.
All of life at CCA seems to be nearing its completion, and perfect endings seems like such a paradox. Perfect things don't end. Not that CCA is perfect, in between dodging Payton and forgetting my choir music everyday, its pretty insane. No joke. But there's something about forgetting your locker combination, and wasting time in G's office. Getting an A on a test, and getting a F on a test. That makes highschool, that makes life. And its not getting eternal 6's on my essays in Ap english, and its certainly not putting up with student government, its the people.
And so to all the poeple that go to CCA.
The people who make my life happy.
Thank you.