Po-Ta-To

I cry. I'm dying. I'm pretty sure of it. That truck that was due to hit me a month ago never came. Fudge. Anyway, I've been running around all afternoon for my mom. First I had to go pick up Rachel from school, then take her to school, buy a potato, then pick her up again. The first time I picked her up it wasn't really bad because I tried to call my mom earlier to tell her that I could pick people up since I didn't have rehearsal, but she didn't answer her phone. Then I got involved in KOL stuff and was frustrated to have to go pick her up. But, whatever. That was OK. The problem came when I had to take her to the practice English 3 AP test. She was being whiny about me taking her instead of Mom, and I was beginning to develop a stomach ache. Then, my mom told me that she wanted me to go buy her potatoes, so she handed me a $20 bill as I headed out the door. I had to turn around because I forgot the keys since I was so focused on the oncoming stomach ache. Of course, Rachel got agitated because she was afraid she was going to be late so she walked back and gave me "the look" then hopped in the car and ordered me to speed to get her there. I have to admit, I didn't speed. In fact, half the time I was going at least 3 or 4 mph under the limit. Not on purpose, mind you, just because when I'm not feeling well I don't put the same amount of pressure on the gas pedal. I'm not sure why, that's just the way I do things. Anyway, she hopped out of the car and freaked out because the door was locked and I drove away to buy the potatoes. When I got to HEB this creepy guy in a truck was staring at me so I called my mom to let him know that I was just going to ignore him. My stomach ache furthered my discomfort. So I asked my mom what kind of potatoes and how many she wanted, and she told me a bag. Then I heard my father correct her to say that they only needed one Idaho potato and that the kids didn't need any because they could just eat leftovers since we have so many. So I was like, "Great... they sent me out her to buy one freaking potato. Ugh!" So I grab the biggest potato I can find and walk up to the registers. I also discovered that I know almost everyone that works the registers at HEB. I took my chances with Michael Beach. I told him that I was buying one potato. So I gave him the potato and he weighed it and told me that it would cost 90 cents. So I took out the $20 dollar bill, gave it to Michael, received a strange look, as I well deserved for paying $20 for a 90 cent potato, and tried to leave in a hurry, whenceforth I nearly smashed my nose into the unsliding doors. Apparently, they take a few seconds to react at HEB. Anyway, I brought Mom the potato, and laid down on the couch for a couple of minutes. Then I got back on the computer, only to get off soon after to go pick Rachel up. My mom made me leave at like 8:45 because she was afraid that Rachel would have to stand outside in the dark. I told her that it didn't end until at least 9:00, but she insisted that I leave. I didn't feel like arguing, again due to the stomach ache, so I just left. I waited a good 20 minutes for Rachel to come outside, meanwhile laying down to try to get rid of the pain. I failed. Right now I feel a little confused. I feel like I have a fever, but after I took my temperature the thermometer told me that I only had temperature of 96.7. That's lower than my average of 97.6, or maybe my average is 96.7 and I just confused those two numbers. Either way, I don't have a fever, and I don't understand why I feel certain that I really do. I'm all dizzy and disoriented, but no fever. It's confusing. Whatever. I may not go to school tomorrow. I'll need to make-up time. Oh well, I feel like I'm going to die. If I do, it's a free for all on my stuff.

"Whoop"

Guess where I'll be next year. Go on, guess. I bet you never will. I'll give you a hint. It rhymes with Texas A&M Schmuniversity. Oh, fine. I know you'll never guess. I shall be attending Texas A&M University. Alright, so the hint was a little vague. Anyway, I had finalized my decision before receiving the following letter, but this just clarified things for me when it comes to the UT situation:

Dear Ms. Rinn:
Thank you for applying to the University of Texas at Austin. According to our records, your application was incomplete at the time we finalized our admissions decisions, and all available spaces for the 2005 fall and summer semesters have been filled. Blah Blah Blah.
The End.

That's about the gyst of it. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to prove to my brother that I could get in, though. He told me that I couldn't and I just applied there to prove him wrong. I never really wanted to go there. It's a larger, more expensive school than A&M, and they're a little too liberal for me. I'd consider myself more of a moderate conservative, and according to Travis they try to shove liberal opinions down your throat during the classes, and I'd just rather avoid that. I won't go into everything, but A&M is much better for me. I wonder who my roommate will be... Of course, I'll get a random one. I hope I get a lesbian. Then I could be following in my brother's footsteps after all, since he had a gay roommate his Freshman year. Whoever I get, I hope they don't like to party a whole lot... and stay up all night... and watch SpongeBob... I shudder at the thought. Anyway... I better go tell A&M that I'm going there before it's too late! To the Batmobile!

I'm only complaining to keep myself busy

So I'm posting... again... ten days since the last post, though. I'm sure you've noticed to new rape list courtesy of Rachel and Ashley. It has 101 people on it. That's quite a few. Oh, I got a part in Brittany's one-act, but I don't think I'm doing very well. Hopefully I won't ruin the play or anything. I have been on the computer far too long. The part of my body where my hands meet my wrists appear to be bruising or something from resting on the wood while typing on the keyboard for too long. Ouchie. They kind of hurt. I guess it's because I've been on for like 3 hours and I haven't done that in a couple of years. Oooo, I can smell the pizza my mom is making. It was frozen, of course. She didn't make it from scratch... or did she?

I'm not sure that I have anything interesting to say except don't take AP Calculus. Just don't. It's not worth your time or energy. It's not fun. It's not interesting. It requires you to try... which is my least favorite part... Over half my class is failing right now. I have an awful urge to watch "The Notebook". I'm sure you don't know about the post I made about "The Notebook" back when I saw it last June. I was absolutely in love with that movie and I wanted my life to be exactly like the main character's (the main character was a girl, for the record). Alas, I have yet to see it again since its debut, even though I own it. Ross bought it for me for Valentine's Day this year. Thank you, punkin <-- ("punkin" is Ross). I want to watch it, though. I was going to watch it last night with my mom, but she decided to sleep instead. Tear.

I only had one period to attend today. Government. I'm not a big fan of Government, but at least I'm not in A4. Oh, poor, poor Ashley. If I could concoct the worst class ever, half the people in Government A4 would be in it. Anyway, all we did in there was take a quiz. At first, I got a 52, but then I noticed that he counted 3 of mine wrong that should have been right, so I got a 67. Then he let us add 3 points for all the ones we corrected, so I ended up with an 88. He-ah! He-ah for the vomen's section! Anyway, after that he tried to show us a movie starring Randy Quaid as a young LBJ, so we played Heads-Up-7-Up instead. I am the master of that game. Everytime someone picked me, I guessed who it was. Also, Ross is a National Merit Scholar for his PSAT score, and for that I'm very proud of him. I know other people out there got it, too, but I'm only dating Ross (as far as he knows) so I'm only going to mention him. Also, I heart him more than my other boyfriends.

Anyway, it's been a good day. Shanghai for lunch, only one school period, Heads-Up-7-Up, I was the master, Ross is a National Merit Scholar, and now I get pizza.

I knew it all along...

Jesse McCartney is the devil. How did I come to this conclusion you ask? Well, duh: He wants my soul! While driving around in Houson on Friday with Ashley/Rachel/Sara I heard him singing on the radio. I quote - "I want you and your beautiful soul". Oh yeah, he wants me... and my soul!! I see how it is, Jesse. Well, don't think I'll give it up that easily. Yes... the war between good and evil is on!

Prom was this weekend and I was really glad that I ended up going. I mean, even though the dance was stupid, and I didn't actually get to dance, at least I got prettified. That is, after all, the most important part. I came to my own house for the afterparty since I'm not into the whole "party party" thing. It was wonderful. I drank a Bawls, which I have deemed to be the nerd's beer, and ate candy and stuff and played lots and lots of video games.

So, flipping through random people's blogs I discovered that people are sad and angry... a lot of the time. I'm just glad that it doesn't seem that I'm as bad off as they are. Of course, people often use their blogs as a ranting page to spill out their pains and sorrows. I just try to avoid the depressing stuff to give people something else to read. Of course, it's all boring and uninteresting, but at least it's different... I guess. But this time, I'm going to do something different for me. I'm going to take a little time to rant. No one will really entirely understand what I'm talking about, but this part is for me.

I'm sick of trying, but I'm also sick of not trying. No matter how hard I try, it never works, but no matter how much I procrastinate, I still get screwed over. It's not fair, and I'm sick of it. I tried. I really really did. And where does it get me? That's right, no where. No where but rude comments and ridicule. I'm about to give up. I want to pop some zombies. That would make it all better. Aside from the failure of my attempts, attempts which no one understands... not even me, really, Jesse McCartney wants my soul. I think that beats out everyone else's problems by a landslide. You'll never get it, Jesse. Never I say!

Wearing your black eye like a badge of honor

So remember when I said I think my kitty (Callie) is pregnant. Well, now I'm pretty sure she is... er... was. As I witnessed it, she gave birth to five little kittens. They're so cute! I love them. They're all completely different, too. The first one born is completely white, the second has the coloration of the stereotypical cow, the third is a tabby, fourth is silver (not gray; silver), and the last kitty is black. They're so adorable. She had them on Holy Thursday so they're eyes are starting to open now. The white one is the only one that has no indication of its eyes beginning they're opening process. But they're still insanely cute. I get to hold them. I likes to hold them. If anyone wants to come over and see the kitties feel free. They cry, though. You just have to pet them to calm them down a little. We haven't really picked out any names yet, but we're working on a list. You can go ahead and submit names in the comments. I think the only boy is the cow kitty, in case gender matters for the name choosing. Anyway... as everyone knows Charley's Aunt lost at Zone. I can't make a judgement on our judge or anything since I've never done this before. I just feel cheated. NHS induction was last Wednesday. I'm pretty sure that everyone that reads my blog knows since they're all in NHS or were inducted on Wednesday, but I had a good time. I tested out the handshake that Mr. White taught us on Matt Brewster because he was the first person that I knew would get it. Ross did it to Mr. Benedict and I will forever adore him for it. Then he and Phillip did it to some of the NHS officers that shook hands with the inductees. I had way too much fun up there. Half the time people weren't even sure if they heard me correctly. Matt Lee has been added to my hit-list since he just blew by everyone acting as though he was too good to shake our hands or something. I'd start a hit-list on my sidebar, but then Mr. White could turn me into the school for making threats. Does anyone remember 8th grade when some students made hit-lists and they were like hauled off to jail or something for them? I remember. Anyway, that's enough for now. I have to pick up the siblings. Yes, I thought you'd be pleased with me. Well, ta-ta.