Nothing says "I have a healthy relationship with God" better than posting it as your status on facebook. Yessir, that is surely the ultimate form of devotion to the Lord.
I'm sorry. I'm in a bit of a bad mood, and it's making me complain about things that I'd normally ignore. But its kind of like... Well, it's like public displays of affection. At first they're sweet, and you're happy for the person and their significant other, but after a point, you just want to say, "We get it. You're in a relationship. Now, although we're VERY happy for you... GET A ROOM."
I don't know... it's just that I've always felt that relationships were sort of private by nature. And this goes for romantic, spiritual, and to some extent platonic relationships too. I mean... I don't know what I mean.
Today, I saw a woman have an epileptic seizure three feet in front of me. I was transfixed. For a good twenty seconds, all I could do was stare. At first, I thought she was laughing, because she'd fallen and I assumed that she had the good humour to laugh at herself, but then I realized that she was twitching, and her teeth were clenched. There was a man with her, who was attending to her, and the ride operator (I was at Carowinds) called an ambulance.
I had hoped that in an emergency like that, I would be a bit more proactive. Perhaps under different circumstances I would have been... If I'd known the woman, if there hadn't been people around, if someone hadn't already called 911 by the time I thought to... But who can say?
It's a very disturbing sight, seeing someone in a state like that.
K, L, and I went somewhere else. I didn't see what happened to the woman, but I hope she's okay. We went by the ride a little while later and it was running normally, so I presume that she was.
On the other hand, if she wasn't, would they close the ride? I mean, the fact that she had a seizure had nothing to do with the ride. It was the needle, for crying out loud. You go up in a little wheel, turn slowly, and come down again.
I also lost my keys today and my sister had to come rescue me. But S has them. I accidentally gave them to him when I sold him my N64.
You and your BRILLIANT ideas. You know, if you'd just kept your mouth shut, I wouldn't be in this situation. This was working out fine, and then you decided to make things "better." Well, thanks. Now I'm going to have to choose one of my friends over the other, and that's going to hurt. Or I could choose neither, and they'll BOTH get hurt. FML.
See, this would be a lot easier if people would agree on what I should do. Like, I think I know what I should do, but I'm still running it by people to get outside perspectives... and they don't agree with each other. Not even close. Like, they take the same facts, say some of the same basic things while working out what they think I should do, and then come up with COMPLETELY different suggestions.
Jeez,I feel like I'm having an affair. I can't even imagine how someone could WILLINGLY enter this sort of situation.
See what you did? You've got me upset over the plight of minor fictitious characters again. Nobody is going to explain to that poor girl why he left her all of a sudden for the girl he was meant to be with. She's going to go home and wonder why she was turned down with no explanation at all. It's not your fault, Jenny!
It's not my fault...
Just shut up next time. Kay? I'd really appreciate it.
How does she try to get fifty dollars? She writes a poem and enters it into a competition. How do I try to get fifty dollars? I sell my Nintendo 64. What does that say about us?
ANYWAY the prom group drama magically resolved itself. Without me even doing anything. It's wierd. I'm not complaining, though. Not at all.
A dear friend of mine recently found out something about me that she didn't know. I thought she knew. I'm sorry I didn't tell you! I honestly had no idea that you didn't know.
Ok... so I'm not sure how much I like the song that S suggested. It's kind of stereotypical and cheesy. And now A asked me to sing with her, and I don't know what to do, because I would have more opportunities to rehearse with A, but I already told S I would. And it's not that I don't want to sing with S, it's just that A has a song that is already a duet, that she already has the accompaniment track to. And it's a song I already know... albeit one with sort of weird memories attached to it? But I can't tell S that I'm can't/won't sing with her and then sing with A, because that's rude and it makes it seem like I don't care about S.
I hate going to the dentist. Like, I walk in and that very distinctive smell immediately puts me on edge. You know the one. I'm pretty sure it's the toot polish smell. Tooth polish, fluoride, and sanitizer... ugh. Anyway, I had to go get my teeth cleaned today. And while my teeth are spectacularly clean, they're also quite sore. I cannot cannot cannot stand those little metal poky things they use to scrape stuff off of your teeth. I think I might actually have a mild phobia. I sit there, and the hygienist is constantly saying, "Relax your jaw." "Loosen your lip muscles for me." "Open a little bit wider for me." "Relax these muscles." And I try. I really do try. But it's SOOOOOOO unpleasant.
My senior recital is a month from today. Yikes. I'm actually pretty nervous.
My dad got this book called "Stuff White People Like" for his birthday. It's great. There's a blog, too... http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com The author teaches (taught?) at the University of Indiana... it seems like the school I'm not going to is following me. Well, they'd better look out for me when grad school rolls around. I'll show them. Maybe.
I got back this morning at 6. I'm still kind of tired from the disjointed sleep I got last night (two hours right after dinner, three hours at three in the morning, and six hours after Dad picked me up and took me home... but oh well. We went to go see "The Lion King" (which made me cry when Mufasa died) and "The Blue Man Group" (which made me lose my voice from yelling so much). I saw Benjamin McKenzie in person. He was seriously like ten feet away from me. I got a Michael Kors blazer that was SERIOUSLY marked down from the original $285 (I got it for $30. Yes, it's a legit Michael Kors, and not a chinatown knockoff. But I got some Chinatown stuff too... including YET ANOTHER belt that doesn't fit me) and some other clothes. There was this super-nice lady named Isabella who worked at the hotel we were staying at. When I went down for breakfast that first morning, I completely passed by one of the tables with food on it because I didn't see it, but she called over to me and said something to the effect of, "There's another table with pastries and sweets over here! I know that kids like sweet things, so I laid them out especially for you kids..." at which point I was like... you're amazing. I love you so much. That's all for right now. I'll put something more coherent up soon.
1) This post was written out of shock and anger. Although I had resolved to confront you when I saw you next, upon seeing you face-to-face I couldn't. I know you love me, and ultimately you said what you did because you felt that it was best for me. Although misguided, you meant well. Also, Dad talked to you, and you have expressed a wish to apologize. So I apologize for reacting in a negative way, however hurt I may have been.
2) At one point I felt that you were the perfect match for me. Charming, handsome, kind, funny, outgoing, talented, intelligent... the list goes on. Once it became clear that I didn't have a chance, I decided that being friends would have to suffice (although the word "suffice" implies that I would be dissatisfied with "mere" friendship). However, I became awkward around you, as I inevitably do with boys I like but who I know don't like me back. (Again I ask... why am I awkward?) So I'm sorry that I missed the opportunity to be a better friend to you, instead of the boy who likes you and then has to try to ignore that fact.
3) I'm sorry you don't like that part of who I am. But it just that: a part of who I am, whether or not you will admit it. You say I am young, and I can't really know who I am, and perhaps on some level that is true, but of this I am sure. I'm sorry that it disappoints you, but there's really nothing I can do about it without intentionally making myself (and perhaps others?) utterly miserable, which I will not do.
4) I'm sorry I don't work more diligently! I know you really want me to succeed, and that you've invested a lot of time and effort into me, and I'm sure I disappoint you at many turns, but I really don't want to. I want to do well so it reflects well upon you, because you do so much for me.
5) I'm sorry I don't like you the way you like me. You're a really great guy, and I'm glad that you're my friend. I don't understand why exactly I don't like you in a romantic fashion, but for some reason I don't. I really am sorry. I know how much it sucks to like someone and then have them not like you back, for whatever reason.
6) I'm sorry I lost the ring you gave me. I feel terrible whenever I think about it. I have absolutely no idea where it might have gone, and the fact that it was irreplaceable makes it even more difficult. I know it probably didn't have that much monetary value, but you specifically got that for me, for when I was older... and I lost it.
7) I'm sorry I thought that an apology post was a good idea. I imagine this must have been quite dull reading for you (if you even made it this far).
How shall I put this? When you have a boyfriend, generally you go to prom with said boyfriend. When said boyfriend splits off of his original prom group, generally you go with him. After all, he is your date. It's awkward for EVERYONE if you don't. So GO WITH HIM!!! If you don't like the group he's going with, convince him to switch back, but don't NOT go with him because you don't like his group. I mean, if he's your DATE you should spend time with him, yes? Yes? Is this a hard concept?
Whenever I go to a pizza place, I try to get a pizza with the following toppings: Feta cheese, pepperoni, and pineapple. I know it sounds like an extremely odd combination, but it's actually quite delicious. I got the B's to try it, and they love it. So does P. So there: I have converted three people into fans of the most delicious pizza in the world. Everyone should try it. You should try it.
It really irritates me when people get "married" on facebook. I don't care how much you love your boyfriend, you are not "married." What are you going to do when you break up? Will you be "divorced?"
I'm not going to get into the marriage thing right now. I need to go pack, because I'm going to DC tomorrow to visit P, S, and C. I'm also getting to se the cherry blossom festival, which I'm really excited about. Not as excited as seeing P, S, and C, but still excited.
A family member posted the following comment on my wall a few minutes ago.
"Now, I understand why God took your Mother. She would have been so hurt reading these words. I pray for you each and every day."
By the way, "These words" are: I'm so glad I'm gay. Girls are psycho. (I had a fairly irritating encounter with one of my higher-drama friends today.)
So, Mom died so she wouldn't have to deal with the grief of me being gay, huh? Really. So good to know that she was spared. I'm sure that multiple sclerosis and breast cancer were infinitely more pleasant than the knowledge that I prefer the romantic company of men rather than women. Thank God she was spared THAT tragedy.