sweet dreams

When I was little, maybe about 6 or 7, I would have these amazing, incredible dreams, dreams I knew that at the age of 6 or 7 I shouldn't be getting, but still held significance to me. They were dreams where I was deeply in love, somehow in the future. There was always some song playing, popular in the day. And I always felt this sense that I had lost this love. And everytime I heard that song afterwards, it would physically hurt. Eventually, though, the songs went out of fashion, and I'd think about the dreams less and less. But today one of the songs came on the radio, and the wind was knocked out of me. And I realized that one of those dreams had come true. No, I haven't been deeply in love. But I think that I might have missed that chance. And no, I can't tell the future. But I clearly remember the feelings I had in that particular dream, and I know that I felt that way towards someone. And I missed it. I know I've missed it.

And that is just wrong.


Speaking of things that are wrong...my next post will be my 500th. Now, I'm not sure if I think I've posted more than 500 or less than 500. All I know is that 500 doesn't seem accurate. But be prepared. Because it will be fabulous.

poetry

is bad. I realized this when I was reading other people's poetry today. They were pretty much all about death and souls and hearts and suicide, except for the one chick's whose were all about sex.

And they were all so...melodramatic.

Now, I write stuff in this blog from time to time (often, actually) about me being sad, because that's who I am. I don't write bad poetry about it, though. Not anymore, at least. You know why I don't do that anymore? Because I realized that they were LAME. Nobody wants to read about "The wind pulls my soul in the direction of Hell, and my pants come with it." Okay, not really.

Bad poetry just ruins my appetite, you know?

nightmares

I have been having these horrible dreams lately. I'll wake up in the middle of the night and I am afraid to go back to sleep. Not only that, but I've always been a little bit paranoid. I'll run through dark rooms (or won't walk through them at all), or I'll walk backwards out of a room. But these dreams make me afraid to even LEAVE my room. I think it might be the heat, because it has been exceptionally hot around here. Or maybe it's because I've had this sense of dread over me for a while, and it's starting to catch up.

Ugh.

I made up a word for my synthesis essay which I didn't realize I had made up. And it made me laugh...a lot. That, and the fact that I realized I used the word epidermis, and I kept saying in my head, "Your epidermis is showing," and I couldn't stop laughing. I think people mistook that for me being too proud. Which I guess I was. I've never thought my writing was any good, and I thought for sure I'd gotten a 3 or a 2. Imagine the overwhelming surprise I felt when I saw I got a 7! AND she called me the best in the class. It makes me a little sad, though, that this is what makes me happy. She's the teacher I had to ask not to call me Hill. It's not that I mind nicknames. I really don't. Come up with a different one, that's fine. But that one has a personal attachment to it, one that I don't take very lightly.

I have gone way off topic. And I slightly feel like I'm going to cry (though why, God knows). So, bye for now.

fiesta!

What can I say? That I love the people that showed up? That I'm disappointed more didn't? I honestly though only three people would show up, so I guess I was surprised. I invited 30. About 7 came. So there's that. Honestly though, I think I would have been nervous if some of the louder and more entertaining guests would have come. But I am still slightly disappointed, more from wounded vanity than anything else.

I did, however, love the people who came. I learned Katie is a truly wonderful person who can do a hell of a back flip. I learned Chris and Jackie are very take-charge types, and when my parents were running late because of car problems, they started the grill and cooked all of the food. I learned that Sarah thought we were all rubes, and by the end of the day her mind changed. That, and you know, I got $90, an AIRzooka, two kickass movies, and a Red Bull. Not to mention all the food my parents bought, anticipating the biggest party of the year.

Then we played the newer version of Life, which is pretty awesome. I guess my view is skewed, though, since I got the best job ever. And won. Then we woke up and there was delicious food. Yum.

And now I have to read the chapters for APUSH. I actually read the chapter that we're most likely to have a quiz over, and now I'm "taking a break" (read: not getting back to it until the night before the next quiz) because I realized that we won't have anything over those other chapters. So I'm an evil procrastinator who has to write thank you cards, get a sponsorship, write a short story, and...something else. I can't remember what, though.

When all I wanna do is watch Mulan. :)

none

I really love having these weeks off. At first, I think I hated it. Now I have no idea why that would be. Probably because I've gotten used to the fact that after six weeks of fascist dictatorship (a.k.a. school), I can have one week all to myself. And I LOVE it. My grandmother said I only like the week off because it's my birthday, but that's not true, because I actually like having my birthday during school more, because somehow you get more stuff (and I am a selfish being, I freely admit).

So Sunday I went up to Peachtree City, where I shopped with my grandmother and ate delicious food until Wednesday (the greatest day ever). That day, she took me to a florist, because I had told her that I just wanted to go inside and smell the flowers. We walked in...no flower smell! I almost walked out, but my grandma went right up to the lady and said, "This is just the weirdest thing but my granddaughter wanted to smell your flowers," and the lady just took it in and then let me go to the back freezer. Now, I love the cold. And I love the smell of flowers. So when I walked into that freezer, it was like heaven. I walked around to the different flowers, smelling them all. It was really just, wonderful. Then we left, but not before my grandma had bought me the sweetest smelling rose I think I've ever gotten.

Then she took me home. That night, we went to La Hacienda, and they did shove a sombrero on my head, sing to me and Spanish, and give me free sopapilla. My parents wanted to make the most out of it, though, so they told them it was Chance's birthday too, which kinda sucked, since he had already, you know, HAD his own special little party. But whatever.

Then yesterday I went with Chris D. and Gracie to the mall to get heavenly Icees, then to see Superbad (because a. I heard it was hilarious and b. it was R-rated). I got lost about a million times, took several illegal turns, but I think we made it okay. Then I had to drop Chris off at a freaking dentist appointment (which I TOLD him he was going to be late for). Then I came home.

Now on the agenda: calling people to see if they're coming to my party (so I can buy the right amount of food), cleaning the house (I was going to clean the yard, but it's RAINING), calling my uncle, reading history, and vacuuming. It's pretty much going to be superLAME.

See what happens when I don't really post for a week?

today

is my birthday. One year closer to legality! WOot.

I'm about to go to La Hacienda, the Mexican restaurant where they sing happy birthday to you in Spanish, shove a big sombrero on your head, and give you free sopapilla on your birthday.

I'm sooo excited.

ode to booger

12 years ago, when a baby was brought home from the hospital, I thought I was getting a sister. I was incredibly disappointed it was a boy, but obviously, I grew out of that. We've shared a few birthdays (after that first one was overshadowed by him), but we grew out of that too. Over the years he's changed from an adorable, blond, curly-headed child to a taller-than-me, foul-mouthed (aren't we all?), funny, sensitive little man. I love him so much (even though the majority of the time he bugs the bejeesus out of me) and I hurt when he's hurting (even if I'm the one who caused it).

This is for Booger. Happy Birthday, my buddy.

el dia

School: crap crap crap, sleep, more crap, blah-di-dah.
After school: prom committee. Actually fun. People actually care and the sponsors aren't berating you and making you feel stupid all the time. Nice.
Drive Gracie home. Had the option of wating at the long light or waiting for a train to pass. I said, "If I wait at the light, the train's going to end, and if I wait for the train, the light's going to change." I decided to wait for the train, and the second I turned, the train ended. I was like, woah ho high five.
Get home.
Roll up windows (ten minutes!)
Wash dishes.
Take shower.
Math homework.
English homework.
English homework.
English homework.
At 11:30, I finished. Then I tried to go to sleep, which didn't work. You're thinking, that's not a whole lot of time to fall asleep. Well, it is for me. So I watched some recorded Top Chef. Lame. Then I decided to get online. And I'm still wide awake.

Ugh.

le party

Okay, so as I see it, I pretty much have two options for my birthday party, since we're kind of strapped for cash this year.

1) We could have a big cook-out at Clark Park. Friends and family could come, my ridiculous friends could provide hours of entertainment by trying to play on the kiddie toys. Maybe I can convince some of them to bring their instruments or whatever and jam out. No worries about my house being crashed, can blame the lack of entertainment on the fact that it's at a community park. Downside: Money. In addition to paying for the food, we'd have to rent the pavillion for however much that is. Ew.

2) We could have a big cook-out at my house. We have a freaking enormous yard, and there would be no problems with everyone fitting or anything. My friends could still bring instruments or whatever. Plenty of room for soccer or baseball or what have you. Could even invite the neighbors. Downside: I'd have to clean up the yard all that week, and the house. Chance's friends might show up. There's really not much to do at my house, since I'm not particularly imaginative (but then again, I guess there's not much to do at the park).

I am conflicted. I have no idea what would be better. Opinions?

troubled water

I really hate the society we live in. There is soo much wrong with it. The school system, and the archaic belief that if you really want to learn and be in college, then you must want to be a leader in the student council or help people in the Beta club. Not just because you actually enjoy learning.

Or how a 12 year old kid can tell a woman as old as his mother to "suck his dick." Or threaten to pull a gun on someone else just for looking at them the wrong way. Graffiti over a traffic sign.

Or how the mother of the threatened makes it out of control, and goes ballistic.

I just despise it, and I'm close to swearing off children.

simon and garfunkel

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

he

When he's feeling particularly stressed, or when he thinks about things too much, he reverts. Not entirely, of course. He reverts back to his pre-teen years.
He wants to play Neopets.
He wants to lock the door to his bedroom.
He wants people to be surprised that it's locked, but no one ever tries it out.
He cries, even when he doesn't mean to.
He wants to snort in derision everytime someone makes a comment.
He sends subtle signals of distress, but he is ashamed when finally, finally, they're heard.
He wants to go through all of this because he knows that eventually, he overcame it. Only it came back. And he thinks this is the only way, to be shamed into taking the world off of his shoulders.

But it's not true at all. You move on, no matter how hard it is. Situations change, and because of that, reactions change. Even though he is scared he can't make it through, he will. Because he's done it before. And this time, he can do it on his own.


(Happy September!)