thelanguagegirl

So after not-thinking-a-lot-about-it, I don't care about 'getting my revenge' or anything like that anymore, because I've got a whole new set of complications to actively deal with.

The first one is the frequent use of 'actively' and other variations of it in my active vocabulary.

Damnit.


The main one is going back to school this weekend. As lame as I've been told I am lately, I'm really worried about seeing everyone again, because honestly, I'm ashamed of who I've become, and I think everyone else is just great fantastic super-duper smart determined woo-hoo. Then again, maybe they aren't.

I have seriously contemplated returning to my home school, because it was easy to miss LSMSA while I was sitting at my house all summer, barely keeping in contact with the friends I finally had the opportunity to hang out with. But this past Thursday, I went to lunch with Brandt, Casey, Sandy, and Kam, and I had so much fun. Like, I had forgotten how awesome these kids were, even if they weren't math geniuses or concert pianists or star athletes. They're just a bunch of kids who love ska and play music for people, and literally do what they want (not the crap everyone at school talks about). It was really refreshing to hang out with a different crowd, my friends from last summer. And that afternoon really took me off of my high horse and showed me that life isn't all about being the smartest, looking the best, or accomplishing the most. It's about doing what you love and having fun with it, whether that be playing shows or playing recitals.

If it weren't for LSMSA, I'd probably be at one of their houses tokin' it up right now.

But you know what? I think I may be okay with that, because as long as I keep in touch with them, I'll get a well-needed reality check on a regular basis. Living at The Louisiana School for Math, Science, and the Arts may be an amazing opportunity, but it can really turn you into an elitist. It's what I've become, and I'm sure as hell not proud of it.

My last night in town is going to be the hardest night of my life.

ICH BIN SO WUETEND
SDFJSDGH(WEt
sdFSDHGJSDGWEgsd SDFHURJSGsdf
dGSHUWTHSLDfsd

ICH BRAUCHE JETZT SCHREIEN.


warum ist er so dumm und furchtbar weiss nicht aber heute ist sehr furchtbar wegen dieses schlechten Wetters ich mag ihn JETZT schlagen warum bin so wütend weiss nicht immer weiss nicht meine Freunden haben wir viel zusammen machen, nicht war?



DEINE MUTTI IST EINE HUERE
UND DEIN VATER IST DER SCHLECHTER MANN UM DER WELT
NEIN, DU BIST DER SCHLECHTER MANN UM DER WELT.
DEIN BRUEDER IST AUCH EINE HUERE

ICH MAG NACH HAUSE GEHEN


Da, ich bin so lala.

I start another year of bullshit.
I move back into Room 239.

14 days until
I see the 2nd greatest man ever.
I figure out what I'm doing.

13 days until
I eat cafeteria food again.
I regain some form of sanity.

12 days until
I go back home.











Heads up, LSMSA: Monday is returning with-
anger issues
bitterness
some form of depravity

No one wants to talk with me about what I really want to talk about, though.
So I write.
A lot.
Quite often.

I daydream a lot, too.
While I'm laying out in the pool,
listening to birds and passing cars.
I think of witty lyrics

and what I'll say
after I walk down
two flights of stairs,
ride my bike for 3 minutes,
and arrive at
Maggie's.

I am so sick of studying because I feel
like no matter what I do, Dr. Olson will
just yell at me.

Listening to music gets so old.

Getting sunburned every day gets so old.

Watching the same sitcommes every day gets so old.

Thinking about the same four people every day gets so old.

I wanna go home.

It's simple.
Can't stop.
















Oh I am getting endlessly ill of this;
Deleting and untagging and burning
and ripping and blocking and yelling
will never get rid of you.
This fucking blows.

EFF
EFF
EFF
I AM MAD.



Hey everyone from LSMSA:
I've changed a lot since May- you probably won't like me anymore.
That is, if you even liked me in the first place.

I got some amazing advice last night.

"You'll know that you're over someone when you get a chance to get your revenge on them, and you don't take it."
"When someone hurts you badly, and you don't forgive them, they have a power over you. But when you find it in your heart to forgive them, the power is broken, and then you're able to forgive yourself."

From Tyler Perry's Diary of a Mad Black Woman (halols).

The thing is, I don't know if I'm ready to forgive said person yet. Granted, they didn't hurt me as badly as they could have. It was what he took me away from that hurt the most.

Starting today, I'm gonna try to work my way through this, and forgive him.
But I still won't speak to him for an extremely long time, if not ever again.









My main concern is the person that I hurt during that ordeal, though.

After listening to about twelve select songs,
and reading a few old journals,
and having a few nightmares,
and daydreaming nonstop,
and closing my eyes and thinking of you,

I'm ready to go back to school.







Well the thing is,
I know of a person
who really needs to
rethink her life and
realize that what she
does hurts others,
and ultimately (and
more importantly),
herself, as well.

Unexpected phone calls range from fifteen to one-hundred-and-eighty-two minutes in length.
How long will yours be?

I just wanted to say:
thanks for taking away
one of my best friends
and turning me into the
girl I never wanted to be.

You've really changed my outlook on life.

I love watching things change.









This time last year,
I was the complete opposite of myself.
I have become something that I never
wanted to be.
The sad part?
I like it.
I thrive off of it.

I want to be what they tell me to be.
I'm vain, rude, stuck-up, and arrogant.
How that came from
selfless, helpful, sweet, and loving...
the world may never know.

This is harder than I thought!




So I'm back to my Pantech c150, and it feels great.
Never texted better.



Also I am starting to accomplish the Expert level on
a few songs in StepMania.


I am acquiring quite the tan; I never knew I could
get this dark.

One of these days, buddy.
One of 'em.

I want to walk to Magee's in the disgusting rain.
I want to go to the book store on Front Street.
I want to hang out at Prudhomme on Friday nights with a box of pizza and a drum set.
I want to listen to Alkaline Trio and belt out the chorus.
I want to sit by Chaplin's Lake and sing about botany and history.
I want to drink chai with Prem and talk about life.

I want to sit across the table from you and forget about everyone else.

Нобута!

You know, the first time I met my best friend, we were sitting in Chemistry, on our first day of class at LSMSA. Dr. Shima told us to write a little autobiographical notecard, and then exchange them with everyone in the room, one at a time. I remember giving mine to April first, and I smiled when I saw that she liked graphic design, too. I looked at her and smiled again: I thought she looked really cool, like one of those graphic design-kinda kids, haha.

We didn't really talk much at all for another few months, until one day outside of class, when I was standing with her and Steph. We had all gotten the idea to make 1000 paper cranes for Dr. Shima (long story short, it was symbolic of our hard work), and made plans to meet in my room that Saturday.

So, a few days later, I was sitting in my room, contemplating what to do with my evening, when April walked in my room. Steph never showed up, so we ended up making some cranes together. It was a little awkward at first, but then once we started our conversation, we couldn't stop talking. She told me about 3 times that she had to leave, but after each goodbye, we'd start talking again.

We never did make those 1000 cranes: our adoration for Shima wore thin, as we continually failed her tests. We studied Chemistry together, and failed together (sometimes; she actually passed most of the tests).

We watched Asian movies and dramas together.
We Mac'd.
We rode the tandem bike down by Chaplin's Lake.
We went to Magee's for ice cream.
We talked about A. Landry and Dr. Olson.
We went through some pretty rough shit with guys.
We got through it.
We daydreamed about senior year.
About graduation.
About college.



I haven't known her the longest,
but April Frank is, hands down,
my best friend.



I never want to lose her,
and I don't plan on it.


Last night she did something amazing for me,
something only a best friend would really do.


She fixed my relationship
with one of my old friends.

I had tried to do it, but he wouldn't hear me.
It really made me upset, but I ended up accepting it.

I don't think she did.
She intervened, and talked to him because I wouldn't,
and now, we're all going to Magee's together the night
we get back to school.

I'll never be able to thank you enough, April.

Nobuta Power!

Ü

Everyone, meet Sasha,
my sixteen dollar baby.

I haven't done anything exciting enough to write in here lately.





But I still want to patch those things up.
And I'm gonna try to, because senior year
will not be fun having to avoid people.




Tomorrow I'm going to Target and the movies, to see Wall-E.
Hopefully everyone was right, and it's adorable.


Eh, lame blog.

Love, Monday

love, monday.

You are
the straw that broke the camel's back.













Well I have made seventy dollars this week,
and instead of buying some new shoes (which
I'm sure I'll end up doing with my next 'paycheck'),
I am going to buy a new phone, if I can find one
I like.


I'm sure I will;
if I don't, I will buy that white Pantech that I used to have,
before I dropped it and it stopped getting service T_T



What a depressing face, haha!