azurite: (autumn kitty)
So I finally finished posting my old journal/diary entries back from high school, when I had an account at FreeOpenDiary. I'm still missing a chunk of time from August 2002-December 2003 (starting mid-January 2003, I started posting here on LJ), which I imagine is when I was posting on my Greymatter blog on my domain at the time, I can't find archives of it (as I can for my old Updates blog, which was also Greymatter-run), but there might be CDs or other back-ups lying around that I might be able to find. We'll see.

In any case, I'm doing what I said I would, and highlighting some of my favorite entries from back in the day. I really was quite different then, I think...

I hated Valentine's Day then, too.
Mme. Sweet, purveyor of fine quotes and assorted catchphrases
One day I'll be on the Billboard 40 alongside Weird Al
Oh, the irony.
Post 9/11
What it feels like for a Mer
Easily flattered! (FLocked)
There are some good people out there... somewhere
The beginning of Mer's Grand Adventure
First kiss, first boyfriend, a first time for everything

I'll edit this entry and add more later, but I'm running out of battery yikes gotta go bye!

ETA OT: So I'm plugged in here at the food court in front of the bookstore... though to call it a food court is a misnomer, since all the "restaurants" (besides Burger King which REALLY doesn't count) and Jamba Juice closed for renovation-- next Fall it'll reopen with new places like Panda Express (blargh) and El Pollo Loco ("The Crazy Chicken." Yes, I really want to eat you) and "Juice it Up" which I've never heard of.

Anyway, I decided to try and make my business card, so I thought, "Why not open up the Image Tricks program that came with my BeLight Business Card Composer 4 software?" And WOW is it killer! There are some Pro features that I can't take advantage of until I register, but even the free ones are pretty cool. Simple sliders and color adjusters can produce ALL kinds of cool effects with images or just with lines and dots! I took an image of the "Book of Secret Arts" (A Yu-Gi-Oh card) and I ended up making some REALLY cool designs with it. Hehe! But I got to thinking, what sort of an image really DEFINES me?

Post an image (preferably small; that is: bigger than 100x100 but smaller than 1024x768) that you think defines "me" (without being a picture of me, of course) and I'll do the same for you.

Hopefully I can come up with something that I can use on my business card this summer. :}
azurite: (hp - rule 24: silver ravenwolf)
I am amazed. Downright, utterly, flabbergasted. I thought that the few people that told me they planned on dressing up for Halloween today at school would be the oddballs out. But instead, there's a whole hoarde of people dressed up-- and I regret not having my camera. Thankfully, my friend Steph assures me that Yearbook has captured some good pictures... but here's what I remember, to the best of my imagination:

* Fairies - all sorts, including angels with wings and even those with just halos.

* Devils - especially devil girls, some in black leather, others in red fishnet... some just wearing the horns.

* Mandarin style - Beautiful cheongasms and matching purses... it's gorgeous. Too bad they don't have their hair styled.

* Superheroes - My friend Eva is a purple and silver glitter gal, while I saw another girl dressed up as Supergirl.

* Classics - Headhunters, ax murderers, dead (and living) cheerleaders, football players, cats... I haven't seen too many witches, but there was a werewolf that Richard saw (Richard said he was dressed up as Sergeant Major. HAHAA!). Some people have some freaky masks, too, like rotting people, Venom from Spiderman, the empty face, and a few other scary ones... thankfully I haven't seen too many Ghostfaces floating around (from Scream).

* Original - My friend Katia went as a Popstar... and she totally looks the part, too. The sponsor of the Anime club went as a white rapper (though his oversized medal looked more like a plate or a gong than a medal), and the insane Chinese teacher went as Snoopy in costume (then again, she dresses weird ALL the time). Some teachers have been going as (believe it or not) a road (complete with stripes), Charlie Chaplin, a rose, and others... I saw an Asian Steve Urkel (and an African American one, too), a female football player, Boy George, and my friend Gina was a sexy French maid. First one I saw today was club Librarian Larisa, who'd made her own leprachaun outfit (even though she's not Irish at all, she's a pureblood Russian) and was giving Lucky Charms to anyone that hugged her.

Now I feel left out because I left my cat ears at home! What about a tail? Well... my old one was made out of pantyhose, hanger wire, and cotton stuffing. Let's just say I'm a Manx named Minx now. ^.~

Happy Samhain/Halloween!
azurite: (deadlines whoosh)
It's suddenly occurred to me, with the force of a volcano exploding beneath my feet, that I am a senior. What's happened? I know it's all unreal-- I still feel sixteen, still remember the hallways of my middle school, and still consider myself a B.I.T.C.H-- babe in total control of herself.

And yet, with being a senior (and don't say it... I know this sounds like a Spiderman line) comes a great amount of responsibility. There's pressures from all sides to graduate on time, to get a scholarship (or two, or three) and go on to a good college. It seems like everyone's doing it, and in response to it, colleges are getting more crowded, and tuition is going up.

How terrible. But I find in my senior year, it's harder to get by, even a mere three weeks into the year, without money. Many of my friends have jobs, while others are desperately scouring the job binder, or applying (like me) to work at the polls on Election Day (this will be my second year of waking up at an ungodly hour to sort papers). I had a job once, about two summers ago, but that was when I was an inexperienced, money-grubbing teenager, with no sense of a timecard or anything like that.

Now in my senior year, I'm wishing I hadn't spent that last $20, or had put those $150 from that job two years ago into my bank account. Everything that people hype about senior year-- whether it's worth the talk everyone spreads about it-- costs money.

If you plan on graduating on time, and with your class, prepare to dish out money for the cap and gown. Me, I'm in the all women's advanced choir, and I have to pay $40 for an embroidered fleece jacket, and $50 for a yearly rental of a black dress. If I want to keep my demi-ratty song book that is emblazoned with 'First Ladies' in gold text, that's another $20.

Oh, mustn't forget PROM-- that's going to be in the hundreds. I don't know where it is yet, but hopefully it'll be at the hotel where my mom works so I can work for cash or something-- since dances were never my thing anyway, but it's always fun to "be there."

I was thinking about getting a senior ring, but the deposit is $50.00, and the cheaptest, nicest looking rings I could find were already $159.00. Yearbooks-- which I haven't gotten since my sophomore year, will be at least $65. I already scalp $3 off my mom for lunch every day, and more on days when I have Night School or special events that I want to go to with my friends. I'm not even including movies and other outings, since this is my senior year, and I may never see my friends again.

This bill is really adding up! I'm skipping most other dances, like Winterball and the Boat Dance... and there's always other stuff like sweatshirts, pom-poms, pens for yearbook signing, haircuts, @_@...

Between all my other gimmes, I don't know where to start. I know there's fundraisers and fee waivers for some of the more required stuff, but YEOUCH!
azurite: (lois & clark)
I'm a horrible liar, thinking I can just move on with my life. Maybe it's pathetic of me to be so attached, but I don't think I can survive a month. Two days has been hell. Maybe I just need something to distract me. Like these songs.

I'm dreamin'/And dyin' inside/Just don't care anymore/Keep on sinkin'/Stayin' me.../Thought I was real/Thought I could feel/The walls crumbled/Time passes/And the world keeps on movin'/But I'm drownin'/Always sinkin'/In my own despair

Pathetic, ne? Reminds me of the Clementine song. Now THAT was eerie. Oh well, I write what I feel.

My life is told in the magazines/Hidden by flashes, my heart unseen/I try to smile/And pretend that it's ok/I'm living through another day/Scandals and heartbreak/Shockers and heartaches/All there for the world to see/I'm a million-and-one masks/Adaptin' to any situation/Never see the real me/I survive, hiding the pain/Dreamin' of the day/That shoulder I lean on.../Will finally stay/Be more than a faceless/Name to drop/I'm living... through another... day.

Ah, this one is strange... it's like a sad song for a celebrity whose live is always misinterpreted by tabloids. It kind of reminds me of "Lucky" (Britney Spears- *Shudder*) and of Pink's "Lonely Girl". Eh, go figure.

Bleh... 2002-2003 Classes )

Oh, in better news... ^^ He talked to me~! We talked about everything and anything but the fact that we were broken up, or that day. But now it seems like we really are living up to that "unspoken" promise of staying friends. I really hope it lasts. =)

Hoax or Opportunity? )
azurite: (deadlines whoosh)
Well, this is an interesting day. For starters, the weather here by the bay is oddly hot-- and by hot, I mean we actually passed the 78 degree record high for this time of year. Yesterday, according to the usually-wrong and oh-so-snooty weatherman, we actually reached 88 degrees!

In other news, though, I got my STAR 9 test results back. What are STAR 9 tests? Well, it's California's standardized test that they give to grades 2-11. It stands for Stanford-9, or Standardized Testing And Reporting.

Being a journalist, these type of things come up frequently in arguments-- why are we assigning numbers to people, comparing them to kids around the nation? If every standardized test is different, then what good does comparing one kid in one huge city (with 18,000 high school students in it ANYWAY) to the kids living in Kansas do? You can see where I'm going with this.

I consider myself an intelligent young woman, and I always have been-- but two things annoy me. The first is putting total faith in one's "intelligence" as labeled by a test. The second is rating someone's ability to perform in a given situation or environment on a number. I may have gotten a 1450 on my SATs, but that doesn't mean I know how to figure out 15% tip on a $63.54 dinner off the top of my head.

I'm sure plenty of people will call me hypocritical for saying this-- but here are my scores, and even though there were some portions where I didn't even TRY (like I've been saying, junior year SUCKED)-- and you'll be able to tell which ones they are, I still did rather well. So here goes:

Total Reading: 99th percentile
Vocab: 99th percentile
Reading Comprehension: 97th percentile (O.O WHAT!?)
Mathematics (get ready to laugh): 20th percentile

-I'm disappointed in myself-- and I know my mom would be too, knowing that 80% of all 11th graders in this country are better than me at math. I can't excuse this, but I can explain it-- the "Integrated 3" questions had nothing to do with the Interactive Math I'd been in-- the class moved rather slowly, and there were high and low periods in which I did/understood the work. They were so confusing (and they didn't let us use a calculator, either) that I wanted to cry-- but I gave up, instead choosing to sleep for the rest of the test.

Language: 99th percentile
Language Mechanics: 99th percentile
Language Expression: 98th percentile
Science: 86th percentile (O.o This is amazing. I thought I left in the middle of the chem test... and my chem teacher, who had been gone for the first three months of the school year, wasn't that great of a teacher. I still passed her class with a C, but THIS IS AMAZING!)
Social Science (History): 99th percentile (WAHAHAHA! And I got a 3 on the AP test! EAT THAT, MR. M! Are you telling me I deserve that F now!?)

I was labeled as "Advanced" (the highest possible target zone for scores) in US History, and English-Language Arts, but Far Below Basic for Integrated Math, and Basic (one off from the State Target of "Proficient") for Chemistry. Go figure.

Students have to take these tests to get out of high school. I've heard colleges look at them. Based on your scores, you can get $1000 Governor's Scholarships-- I got one last year. We also have to take the HSEE (class of 2004 and beyond, which isn't me, but now it applies to 75% of the school) or High School Exit Exam-- the Golden State exam in history, English, math, and science... plus schools encourage you to take the PSAT in 10th grade, or sign up for PPSAT classes. There's just so many tests and so many labels they slap onto students that it's no wonder that there are kids like me who ae intelligent, but lack the motivation necessary to oust themselves out of the 20th percentile.

What state governments and school districts need to do is focus on the student's individual needs-- and if it costs them more money to do so, so be it. It'll be worth it in the long run.
azurite: (yuna's memory)
Sometimes I think I'm one of the very few people with school spirit in my entire high school. And though it's summer right now, I'm already planning and plotting ahead, trying to come up with ways to make the school better in my final year there.

That's saying a lot-- since with my two failed classes (though I should have passed English, what with all the praise and passed tests in summer school, but I got a D in Japanese -which I hope to make up with my extra credit manga- and an F in history-- SCREW THAT! >_< I got a 3 on my AP TEST! WAHAHA!) I need to make those up in Night School. Bleh. Better than taking another class during the actual school year though.

ANYWAY, I have been coming up with ideas for the Class of 2003 mural. In my school, classes since the early 1980s have been doing large murals that are placed in the wings of my school. There are three wings-- the first two are already filled, but there's a blank space where the class of 2000's mural *should* have been, but isn't, due to their lack of enthusiasm on that part (not to mention motivated artists) . In any case, I've been trying to get the class to come up with designs for the mural, since I intend to be the first class in the new millennium doing it. Other classes have tried to copy my original idea, once they found out about it via the polls I sent to homerooms, but none of them have been able to go through with it.

Now, thanks to my friends (artist types who have volunteered to help with the painting of the mural, should we get teacher permission) have help me come up with ideas-- and as the self-proclaimed "concept designer" I have to come up with a way to combine all the ideas, and decide which ones to use and not use.

So far, we're combining elements of the new millennium with current events and trends-- and all we need is a single running thread to make it a truly "2003" poster. We've got "the new millennium," Y2K, Cell Phones, Computers, DVDs, MP3 players, new music, new fashion... Cybercafes, Dance Dance Revolution, gaming consoles, digital photography, and more focused stuff on the school and the city/community-- like the Metreon, our new principal, the events of 9/11 and how they affected us, trends in media and television... it's a whole jumble of ideas.

*ahem* To continue where I was cut off (so sue me, I was typing this in the middle of class) I have this bunch of ideas... but I need a way to sketch them all out, to make them into one unified concept. It's sort of like how Yearbooks have themes, and even though they have the same stuff every year-- the classes, the Student Life section, etc. they always conform to the theme in one way or another. So how would I do that with this? Honestly, how do I know which ideas to cut... or which to keep? What's the underlying thread here that I'm not seeing-- and of course, even if I were to rally up my classmates to discuss/follow through on this, how do I go about addressing over 500 students, and picking and choosing the volunteers, the artists, and those who stick to what they start?

Now, once again, with feeling: HELP!
azurite: (snark or smut)
Well, this weekend was eventful. Starting with Great America, and ending with a new list of "Gimmes," it's been nothing short of stressing... and entertaining.

When my friend stayed over for Tuesday-Thursday, there were some misadventures too-- like when we all saw "Reign of Fire," and Joe (boyfriend) couldn't have looked more BORED. Saturday we were supposed to go to Great America (theme park, for the uninformed), but at the end, when we both wanted to go on Stealth, no one was allowed to bring belongings up to the platform. -_- Total bull, mind you. Joe said he'd go back to our unlimited use locker (at the front of the park, while Stealth coaster was in the middle) and try to shove my bag in there. I was worried while waiting for him to come back... me being short and all, I climbed up on every platform and fence I could to see if I could spot him. When I did, he was coming towards me-- with the bag, but then he turned right around. I wasn't sure whether to follow him or not, so I stayed in line-- and it wasn't until I was about 20 minutes away from my turn that I found out that he wasn't allowed in line-- the queue line had closed, and there was no room in the lockers. In short, he'd spent an hour and twenty minutes waiting for me in line.

Talk about a guilt complex-- I couldn't stop apologizing! Ironic, too, since my friend that stayed over apologizes for things that aren't her fault, either. When she stayed over, she surmised that the reason I haven't been able to eat much lately is because I'm stressed-- and I couldn't find why. After all, summer school was going great, theme park Saturday was coming up, and everything seemed peachy. But truth be told, I was a bit worried that Joe was (and part of me think he still WILL) going to leave me, since I have this complex that makes me think that I'm not deserving of anyone. I've tried to revise that frame of mind thinking something like "Wow, how LUCKY I am to have someone." It makes me feel a little better, but upon checking his away message, he's obviously very mad at Great America-- and even though it was me who got free passes from my mom's friend at work, and Joe was the first person I thought of bringing with me, I still feel responsible and guilty for leaving him waiting all that time. To tell the truth, I didn't scream (in a happy way) on the ride-- I may have laughed, but that was because the guy next to me was screaming like a girl. ^^;;

Oh well. But today was fun. Mom and I went through the park, and had brunch at this Cafe Rain Tree. There were a bunch of little stores near by-- this five and dime with a whole bunch of cute bandannas, and this neat everything-store called Tutti Frutti that inspired my latest list of gimmes.

Thanks to my friend who stayed over -Ro, we'll call her- I now have an idea for what to do for Joe's birthday. I mean, he has practically everything he could want, since he's pretty well off, but everything he DOES want and doesn't have is nearly impossible to get here in the States. So I figured (with the help of Ro) that I could mix my creative talent for the things Joe likes (and lost/didn't get/wants)-- a Lego guy called ServBot, and Kirby, the puffy balloon creature. ^^ I'll try making some desk accessories like them for his birthday on Sept. 19, since they'd be cute and useful... so if that turns out okay, I'll be sure to be bubbling with excitement.

The only thing worrying me at this point is school, which starts August 26. I get my schedule on the 14th, when I meet Ro back at school (we were in summer school together) at 8:30a! My DMV appointment (FINALLY I'll get an ID!) is on August 17th, at 8:20a, and I can only hope my picture turns out ok. Then I can go see Rated R movies all by myself!

I got some new Japanese Yu-Gi-Oh cards at Great America, since the arcade was about the only successful part of the entire trip. I'm still working on my extra credit manga for Japanese class next semester, to bring up my D (ssh! I still haven't told my mom I have my report card!)-- it's called "I'm Listening," and the ideas I have for that would take up another entry in and of themselves. Drawing is so hard... but the screen tones, coloring, inking, and of course, JAPANESE will be even harder!

;_; My gimmes make me want to get money. But those are for another entry. Hopefully my friend remembered to ask HER bf if he could burn me a copy of Utada Hikaru's latest CD, "Deep River."

Well, I've been babbling stream-of-consciousness for a while now. If I left anything out, I'll addendum it to another entry.
azurite: (screw it trashcan)
Well, today was odd. It started off normal enough-- and sadly, I'm slipping back into my old habit of laying off work whenever I have the chance. I totally thought I could ace the classes (both English) that I'm taking in summer school, since both teachers said I wouldn't have to do homework. But for the second class, with the fun teacher, we have to write an essay about every week. The last one was pretty much free topic, the only requirement being that it had to be a persuasive essay-- and I put it off. Then I spilled milk on the keyboard when I was actually trying to write it, and by the time I managed to escape my mother's wrath and get the keyboard from the old computer (which I'm using now, and is a bit dirty and slightly sticky in its own right) I was too tired to keep working. I told my teacher this, and she said it was fine... but I still didn't finish it last night. Today, we got our new topic, which is our only personal, reflective essay. I think that one will be harder for me, since I'm choosing to write about my sister's death. It's probably a tired topic, considering how many times I've talked about it on one work or another, but it's the first one that always comes to mind-- what other event in my life has affected me in such a way, forcing me to change?

In any case, I'll have to be forcing myself to work on those. I was feeling weird all day-- for two reasons. One was that I'd often feel obligated to eat when I wasn't hungry. The lunch money my mother gave me on Monday has thus gone unspent, and it's not for lack of food or pickiness (not REALLY). I'll prepare food, make it, pick at it, and then let it sit there. I just can't make myself eat, and it scares me, because when I actually *do* feel hungry and I eat, I end up feeling sick afterwards. The other reason was because I'd forgotten something-- and didn't remember until (obviously) it was too late. I'd signed up for a journalism class that I'd heard about from my teacher, and wanted my friend to go with me. But she never emailed me back, and I totally forgot about the class. To tell the truth, I didn't even get directions for where it was, so had I remembered, I would have spent a good hour online looking for directions by bus!

Besides all that, today during break while snacking with my friends, this strange African-American guy wearing a battle dress jacket (camo-print), when I was talking over anime with my friends, this guy, out of the blue, asks if I'm Jewish. I was kinda flustered, since it was such a random question, and my friend mostly answered for me, neither of us looking at said guy too much, because he was smiling oddly. Basically I said no, since your mother has to be Jewish in order for you to be-- but by blood, then technically I am, since somewhere down the line, I am of that descent. The guy starts prattling off in German, and when we asked to translate, he just shook his head and smiled very scary. I wonder if he's an Anti-Semite...

I had a few other things that I wanted to say... mostly odd, random stuff (how me) about goofball postal workers (sorry! but it's true! at least where *I* am), my boyfriend getting back from his convention in LA, next year's cons plans and downfalls, and 'demi-crushes'. Oh well, I guess I'll save it for another entry.

So Far...

Jun. 21st, 2002 05:40 pm
azurite: (dango)
Well, summer's here. I registered for summer school today... and the wait wasn't as bad as my friend made it out to be. Luckily, I have what I consider some nice teachers, and now, the motivation to pass-- since I don't want to have a lousy transcript, nor do I want to not graduate on stage. So doing well in school is a priority for me.

For the past couple of days, I was helping 'babysit' at the house of an uber-Christian family that is friends of my mom. The father used to be a teacher at the college where my sister was majoring in film, and when she passed away, my mother really turned to them for support. They move a lot, since the father, a pastor, only holds jobs and church houses for a few months to a year. But now they're moving cross country. So their little 5-year-old who is crushing on me, their 11-year-old who thinks he's a master debater, and their 14-year-old who I used to like (shudder). The 14-year-old, though, looks like a veritable twig, since he's about 6 feet tall! Anyway, babysitting was difficult, and my mom was always upset about them leaving. I never really related to them much, since they were so set in their religious beliefs-- and I wasn't.
In fact, the second out of the four days I was there helping, the middle son decided to question my moral and ethical beliefs while we folded laundry!

So suddenly religion is a big issue in my life-- and it's all because of one simple question. If, at the end of your life, you found yourself in a place like "Hell" because you didn't believe, and you could have one shot at changing your life, to become religious, would you?

What if you didn't remember the God/Goddesses you're supposed to worship, to avoid eternal damnation? Perplexing, isn't it? Most of this all stemmed from there being a difference between "true" and "right." People can believe in whatever they want-- to them, what they hold dear is "true." But to others, it's not "right."

What this family in particular believes, rather strongly, I might add, since their father is a pastor, s that those who do not believe in Jesus will go to hell. Since I was little, I was raised with mixed beliefs--since I always celebrated Passover, Hanukkah, and sometimes Purim and Rosh Hashannah with my father's side of the family. As far as I knew, they didn't believe in Jesus Christ, the son of God who would be reborn... They either believed he never existed at all, or he was a Jew to begin with. When the father read me a poem called "The Jew," it reminded me of them-- and why I wasn't a Jew *or* a Christian, since my mother wasn't Jewish, and despite my having "Jewish blood" in me, I couldn't -or is it wouldn't- celebrate it? I prefer Wicca, since I am intrigued by the idea of more than ONE sole higher power or entity, especially that of a Trinity of Balance-- something like how the God and Goddess operate, with three forms.

When I was younger, I was very much into Grecian and Roman mythology, since there were so many gods of so many things. Even in Wicca, similar gods and goddesses are called upon to aid in specific matters.

In a day and age when science is always battling religion, I do believe in Evolution-- but also in something higher, something to believe in after death. I suppose it's the only thing that keeps a lot of people sane, in which case I won't be one to argue against it. I prefer to stay in the shadows of this religious-scientific battle, rather than take up a shield and sword and fight for either side.

In other news, I got my report card some days ago. Suffice it to say, I was disappointed in myself, but I knew I got what I deserved. For the record-- I failed English, of course, since I stopped going to that class even before second semester started (I think O.o), and now I'm making it up in summer school. I got a C in Chem, which is pleasing, since it means I did well on my final. I got a D in Math and Japanese (I didn't turn in my final project for Japanese, but I can make that up by doing an extra credit weekly manga this summer. Now all I have to do is think of a topic), and an F in History.

I don't plan on being held back this year, so if I have to go to Night school or City college to make up these courses, I will. I want to graduate on stage, go to SF State in Fall 2003, and get a degree in Journalism. That goal is solidified in my mind, and I just have to work up the courage and motivation to jump over the hurdles life will keep throwing at me. I want to keep trying, and be motivated and successful, like my friends. I don't plan on being one of the people in a forgotten Pop Poll about "Least likely to succeed."
azurite: (born beneath alder)
Ah, the past week has been so nice. Well, in some instances. I just feel like whatever weight has been keeping me down has been lifted. On Saturday, I went to my class as usual. It was a little upsetting to not have anyone there besides another girl from Gal (the class dropped from 7 people to 3, and at the past two meetings, 2 people!) but it was okay, considering I got to go to the Cherry Blossom Festival and watch my dumb ass friends (okay, enemies) volunteer in the blazin' sun without getting to eat. ^-^ I used the money I had from a guy to pay for hotel rooms on two lovely artbooks, some manga I imported, and a delicious crepe. My mom was okay with it later, considering she's the one getting the super discount on the rooms and the theme park, used her credit card and her hotel connections to do so, and was just using the cash as lie-around spend-money. ^-^ It was like a late birthday for ME, BY me. I was a bit distraught that my friend from Gal (the guy) still didn't have this mysterious birthday present that had cost him his health for two weeks-- not to mention the fifty-some-odd dollars that he owes me for the hotel. Oh well, it's not that important, I guess...

I went to go see him and his other gamer/anime friend at a cybercafe which I normally avoid (I lost my wallet and one; this one also doesn't have DDR) and I managed to get two $1.50 sodas for only $1.00! However, the pork riblets I'd ordered earlier (which officially severed me from my estranged Jewish side of the family living in Souther California that never bothers to stay in contact with me aside from trying to argue with my mom...) did a number on my stomach, and I was sick as we were walking home way late that night. I finally got home in the nick of time, and am now feeling so much better and peppy. I hope the month will continue to be "mine" as the convention I have been looking forward to for so long is this weekend...

I've also decided that, since I'm failing English and I hate the teacher, I'll savor my precious hour of time that I no longer have to wake up so early for... I won't go there again, despite the guilt tripping of my journalism teacher. ^-^ I feel good.
azurite: (anger of angels - kisara)
Anger can be a very positive thing. So can stress. But sometimes, you can't just stop those little gremlins in your head that whisper about THROTTLING that certain annoying mother's boyfriend... hehe...

Anyway, I went to my friend's play on Saturday night. He was very good, though he didn't show up till the end of the first act. But he did have the lead male role, so he made up for it all in the second act. I did feel guilty that I didn't get him any kind of congratulatory present (it was the closing night) or a belated present (been broke) but he was sooo good, I forgot about it.

Anyway, as stated by the title of this entry, I mention the evil know-it-all boyfriend from hell. I asked my mom to come with me to this play, because my friend likes my mother a lot, and they have a lot in common, media-appreciation wise. And I wanted to do something, even something as silly as seeing a school play, with JUST my mom for once, right before my birthday. What does she go and do? You guessed it-- she invites the boyfriend! To top it off, she explains that if I'm going to be at a convention all the weekend of the 26th to the 28th, she'll need company-- on the last day of the convention, when there's practically nothing to do, and I wanted her to come to Great America with me, as a belated B-day celebration, but she AGAIN invited the boyfriend-- and his daughter, whom I can loudly say I DO NOT LIKE VERY MUCH!

Anyway, at this play, all he did was criticize the cast members-- except my friend, which I was thankful for, otherwise I would have just changed seats entirely. And even though I'd wanted to try out for the lead, I heard from some girl in my history class that the [white] teacher was looking for people of a minority to play the lead... which made no sense to me considering whites ARE a minority in my school! Regardless, the part went to an acting vet (who probably made 88% of her parts because she's a tall blonde with a figure) who's been in drama since she started. She's got acting talent, but singing is out of her league. Still, I know she's good, because I've auditioned with her before. Still, all mom's evil BF could do was complain about how she was never on key, missed seven notes... there was a scene when some people applauded after a particular singing act of hers, but I figured they didn't all clap because they were SMART enough to know the scene wasn't over right after she sang. There were some technical difficulties anyway that made it harder for her to sing loudly and project, and even when she did, sometimes the orchestra overpowered her.

His daughter is an opera singer at a prestigious, opt-in school, and is probably going to be attending some expensive, conservatory of music and theater or what not. -_- She's nice and all, but spoiled rotten. Anyway, so I figured he was comparing my school's lack of talent to his precious daughter's school, and that made me mad, even if he was right on some level. But he was insulting the school-- which he graduated from! I know my school doesn't have the best resources, students, or teachers, but we try, and people DID enjoy the performance.

I ended up taking out all my stress on DOOM II, firing rockets like crazy. Maybe after today's stress with school I'll do the same in DOOM II's secret levels, where I can blast some Nazis to high heaven... hehehe... ^^
azurite: (kaiba deathnote)
Well, I went to my counselor's today... and I got my senior year classes. I've been worried for the longest time about what I would and wouldn't get, considering my slump this year. As it turns out, some of my grades are better than I thought, while others are worse. So here goes, schedule 2002-2003:

1) English (FINALLY, not honors!) I think I'll be able to handle it, so long as I don't get bitchy Archer. ^^

2) Journalism (DUH!) Of course, I'll be in Journalism. I plan on totally reforming it. ^^ With a new teacher, hopefully new funds, and of course, a new layout style, the paper should be better than ever. I hope.

3) Creative Writing - I put this on my schedule in the pretense of having a backup to Vocal Music. Of course, Vocal Music, I thought I needed for Visual and Performing Credit (you need two years for UC, which I don't plan on attending) but it turns out that I have enough already, with my Freshman year Ceramics. So, if I take Vocal (assuming I passed my audtion to get into Advanced, that is, I don't want to be in beginning) then I wouldn't take this class. But as it turns out, I CAN!

4) Vocal - I've wanted to be in this class for three years... Yippee! Hopefully I'll pass my auditions and make it into advanced.

5) Japanese - I don't need the credit, but I love Japanese so much, and I hope that this year, I'll be able to go to Japan!

6) History - i.e. American Democracy and Economics. I didn't apply for AP because this year has given me a taste of what I can and can't handle. AP is in the can't handle section. Wish me luck though... I hope I get a nice teacher, like Leach or Ochi.

I don't need any more gym (took care of it with ROTC) or Math (!_! amazing! But I applied... counselor just said why take it when you don't need to, not even for college?) or Science (even more amazing... since I only took Bio and Chem) so yay! 6 classes, tons of fun! WAHOO!
azurite: (pharaoh = porkchop)
My friends still in the "badlands" of ROTC went to their spring encampment in Camp Parks this spring break. It's in Dublin, CA, which is even more notorious for rain and fog than San Francisco. Makes you wonder what the military was thinking when they put a base there, ne?
Anyway, so I'm all miserable before hand, thinking... man, all my friends are going to be gone for four days... I'm all alone...

On Friday (the day that started Spring Break and the day after they left for Dublin) I was dying my hair the first time around, and I was phenomenally late to the anime Screening. But when I got there, it was pouring rain, so I walked out with the guys (including his truly, the baka I seem to still like on some proto-cellular level) and went to Mickey D's... even though I'd been there myself earlier, and lost my appetite somehow and didn't even finish one of my two burgers or my super-bland fries (what have they done to my McD's fries!?). So I got a ride home, and the sense of humor was hovering above PATHETIC, so... yeah. But at least aforementioned guy seemed to like my dye-job, which was in two cute pigtails, courtesy of my soph friend who did the job in the first place... even though my roots were lighter than the rest of my hair >_<

But the friend from another high school that had thus showed up (even when I was mad at him) to the screenings was at camp, and when he finally IMs me a week later, it turns out he stood IN THE RAIN for an hour and a half and he got me a gift... ;_; Now he's got the flu. What's more, I was regretting not going (can you hear it coming? Here it is...) BUT a goose flew into the power generator, turned into roast goose, and blew the power to the entire base, so everyone spent all night taking attendance, rather than partying for the brigade dance! (Insert Nelson (r) Simpson laugh) Hah-hah! I felt kinda bad for my friend who was quarantined through this, and I'm still tripping about this gift he was so careful not to break... Aaah, I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to Friday or what.
azurite: (double trouble minako & usagi)
This is another one of those entries about the aftermath of something, "and then..." It's a total rip-off of all those lines in Japanese anime where they go (something really pivotal) "and then..." which, in Japanese, is (the something), soshite... It's really corny, but... eh. Never mind.

Okay, so I re-dyed my hair over spring break. I told people I was coming back blonde, and here I am. Only some people have this thing with insisting it's not blonde. To me, it looks strawberry blonde or honey blonde... but some people say it looks orange (NO!) or red (WHAT?). In fact, the one bitch (I swear, one of these days I will post my bitch list, names, dates and all to show people what I intend to do to these pathetic wretches that have made my life miserable) I hate the most in my classes (she's in my English AND History) says, "NO, it's red." I look at her as if she has bug-eyes and ignore her. It's not, I swear.

The first time around, when I let my friend dye it, she left half the solution in the bottle without even knowing it... and we waited an hour and a half for my hair to change, but it never did. Now, I left the stuff on for twice as long as I was supposed to.

It worked-- I guess. My roots, however, which I applied the solution to 90 minutes after I did the rest of my hair, are still brighter than the rest of my head-- hence the orange comments. The top of my head is bright blonde with a scant few brownish patches, and the rest of my hair is a dirty-honey blonde, almost a light rust color.

I was just hoping for a little change-- anything to stop being the girl that EVERYONE recognizes on the street. And today, I've gotten the attention I wanted... but some of it's not so good. Someone in my chem class muttered none-too-softly that I was trying to be Asian. *cough* Excuse me? No offense to any Asians out there, but I've never seen one single born-blonde Asian! Not even PART Asians have natural blonde (and I mean BLONDE, not dirty blonde, not brassy) hair. No. Just doesn't happen. Me, my family has blondes in it. I wanted the look, but I didn't want to dish out the salon price. I'm going as an assassin to a convention at the end of the month, and even if my hair isn't "blonde" it'll do. I'm sick of people judging me by my looks; just because I changed didn't mean I wanted people to treat me as less of a person... I did it because I wanted a CHANGE, and the best way to express change is physically, right? Besides, mental change is so much harder to undertake as a challenge and a task over a single spring break.

So, that's what I did. People have called me weird, stared, grinned, patted me on the head and on the back, and some have just stared silently, looking like my goldfish.

Oh well. Change is good. At least they aren't drooling now. ^.~
azurite: (yuna summons)
Whoo! Only three more days till Friday! Of course, that's both a good, AND a bad thing. I mean, on Friday, I have an exam, and a project due in Japanese that is worth a lot. I'm having a hard time researching it, being unable to print anything color from school, and since my home computer is fried (nooooo) I can't check my mail, let alone print pictures.

Thus screwing me over. HOWEVER, if I play my cards right, I might be able to do the project as a Powerpoint that I can email to my teacher. The hard part is programming all the wording into Japanese using an IME editor. >_<

I already paid for a $6 scrapbook, but at this rate, it's not looking too much in my favor to do the scrapbook project, especially when I can't find any pictures that are color (and big enough).

However, I'm trying to get myself in that "rut" where I'm motivated and happy about something, and if it can't be Spring break, than what better than my 17th bday, and even better, FANIME! Woohoo!

Yeah, so I'm sticking to my creed: Life sucks now, but it has to get better eventually. Hehe...

Strangely enough, I'm starting to get back into the gaming world-- and not just DOOM, but FFX and several other engaging games. Mensa! Whoo!

^-^ Yeah, if you didn't notice, I took a test that says what FFX character I am. I'm proud to be Lulu! She's gorgeous! ^-^ My friends have gotten both Wakka and Tidus... even though the Tidus one is a girl! O.o;;
FFX is actually the inspiration for a new SM fanfiction I have, Final Gate, but it's waaay hard to do any typing not school-related (that is, not at school) anywhere else...

I also noticed that all my songs and stories are really long (I once had a two-page spread in the paper about a fashion show) and since I have to make a short story for this literary contest, I have to limit my expression! Gaaah! >_<

Cinnamon raisins are the greatest thing this world has ever seen in terms of real "fast food." McDonalds either salts their fries too much or not enough. A cheeseburger isn't a cheeseburger unless it his ketchup and onions. Whenever you have successfully accomplished something and sit down to watch TV, repeats will be on. 99% of the time, you won't need to know Calculus or Geometry in a realistic job. Practically everyone ends up majoring in Business somehow. The meek WILL rule the world. Murphy's first law of computing: whatever happens, pretend like you meant for it to happen.
azurite: (hogwart's crest)
Since I've started this miserable school year, I've promised myself bigger and better things-- I won't bite off more than I can chew for assignments and classes; I will keep my room clean so I have a good study area; I will designate time for TV and Internet surfing.

A counselor came into my English class this morning to divvy out the sheets where we decide our classes for next year-- my final year at this school.

As corny as it sounds, something I heard from one of my fav shows, Smallville, rings astoundingly true. Lana Lang's mother delivered a controversial graduation speech as the valedictorian for her class of '70-something: "I may not have made a difference here, but maybe my kids will." Now I don't think I'll ever make it as far as valedictorian-- I'll be lucky if I pass this year (bad me)-- but I'm a cut above some other people I know-- and used to be friends with. But I've always wanted to go out with a bang-- and high school is the bang that has to be bigger than the rest. It may be small to everyone else, but leaving high school without having touched alcohol, cigarettes, or drugs, and as weird as this sounds, keeping my virginity-- well, it's a big deal. College is usually associated with toga parties, lots of sex and all that, but I really want to go somewhere with my life, because lots of teens, like me, don't want to end up anything like their parents-- even if they can't see themselves ever being that old. (hehe)

So I'm going to sign up for the next SAT-- my PSAT scores show that I can get a 1500 if I really apply myself-- and I know I should. I don't think I'll go to a UC, even though I might have AP credit at the end of the year (assuming I study tons between now and May)-- because none of the UCs have the courses I want. The local state college does, and so does one in Northridge, near my estranged grandparents (the only members of my dad's side of the family that I don't hate), though. So...? As long as I get away from my mom, really, even though that's a dumb reason.

I took the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test earlier in January, and got my results in February. The "official" results just came in yesterday, and a guy from the National Guard who's pretty friendly to me told me that if I was seriously interested in Journalism (which I am) that I should go up to Fairfax (or was it Fairfield?) and check out the drill ceremonies-- that's where the officers who are already doing journalism are. They get to travel around the world, and because they're volunteering their time in the armed services, they get paid-- so if I do that during the summer between my junior (this year) and senior year (assuming I don't have to attend summer school) then I might have $1000+ by the end of August, when I start school up again. Wow. But again, there's the military aspect-- I don't know if I could survive basic training... ;_; I sound like a total chicken, but this is one of those things you have to be totally sure about, because once your in-- there's no turning back.

When it comes to next year's classes, I've opted for 12th grade regular European Lit. (versus AP) because I don't think I could handle that much work for English. Especially now since all the teachers that were supposed to retire AREN'T, I don't want to be stuck with the homeroom-teacher-who-loves-me as my English-teacher-who-hates-me. Meanwhile, I'm striving for AP Chemistry, because it's worth two units (one full year) in college... but I might have turned in the form late. What's more, there's a mandatory test for it, and teacher's approval, along with the dept. head... O.o If I don't get in. I'll just take another year of Math (I can either take 3 years of math -already done- and 2 years of science -also already done- or 2 years of math -already done- and 3 years of science -if I take a science next year... hence the confusion) aaah!

Then, there's regular Democracy/Economics. AP is a no-no for that, despite the value of getting both macro and microecomics in one package-- the Democracy half is honors, so that would make up for the non-AP in English... a major no-no, because I get easily stressed. Then comes a possibility-- I could take Culinary Geography, a new course which counts for Social Studies (history credit) but doesn't count worth two cents in college... though I don't plan on going to a UC anyway... and it all really depends on where I apply and get accepted. Yeah, but cooking for class sounds kinda fun, especially if it's cultural. Plus, the teacher seems nice. There's also the option of Psychology -regular or AP with another humorous teacher due to retire the summer of '03. So...? I also need a visual and performing arts, and I'm leaning towards Show Choir, known as VocalEase at my school, which is the intermixed choir. I tried out last year and made it in, but my class schedule this year prevented me from taking it... which sucks because I'd be getting in per audition... and the relationships that you forge aren't as stable. I'm still going to stick in Journalism... that makes a grand total of six classes. Depending on what I choose for History, whether I take Chem or IMP 7 (as I fondly call it, "Math for Dummies"), and if I take that extra year of Japanese (which I really want to do so I can go to Japan next year... ^^)... well, I have one class free, so I can either sleep in (YAY!) or take Creative Writing (wonder who's teaching it?) or maybe something else... but I have had a hard enough time this year with one AP, so more than one (like Psych) might be iffy. I don't know. So many choices, and now... so little time.
azurite: (darwin power!)
Darwinism is the philosophy that the strongest survive-- the survival of the fittest, really. And in high school, it's a dog-eat-dog world. Or maybe I should say eagle-eat-eagle?

Anyway, so today during registry (homeroom) I'm reading the bulletin as per usual (just so the dipwads in there can't complain to me if they didn't receive such and such form or hear some message). I note this part about a girl named "Luyin Zhu" who received a $1500 scholarship. There's a quiet girl in my class by the name of "Li Hua Zhu" and, well... ^///^ I got them mixed up. Major embarrassment. When Sara, a friend of Li Hua's started shaking her head at me, I should have shut up. I know Luyin-- she was in ROTC with me. So I'll be cursing myself until I die: baka baka baka baka baka!

My friend brought a puppy stuffed animal to school today, and lent it to a mutual friend of ours who's in my math class. This mutual friend was really out of it these past few days, and I couldn't get her to give a peep of info on what was wrong. Knowing that life can sometimes just *sucks* I didn't persist-- but it was getting annoying how I had to start solving all these equations on my own... and we had less than 15 minutes to find a reasonable solution and post it! She finally 'fessed up and said there were some issues at home-- nothing really clear, but I got it. But meanwhile, while she was stared off into space, I dognapped the puppy and squealed "Puppy!" at the nearest group. They stared at me for a minute and a half, and then I hid my face behind the pup and laughed. -_-;;

The guy that I used to like and now am starting to detest because of his immaturity (go back two entries and see what I mean) sent me an email via the mailing list we're both on-- the one for the anime club at the local state university (that he's the new prez of). He sounded so damn intelligent in there, I wanted to wring his neck!! So I'm going tonight to this first meeting in months, and I know he'll be there. I have other friends there, its true, but I was so mad at him this weekend, and he was being such a f**king jerk that I really don't know how I'll react. I know so far I've been a bit bubble-headed in that I'm out to look good (I've donned the black leather motif again, with the theme: Dark Fire) and knock the socks off this @$$. A white silk dress shirt with french cuffs, mega-maroon lipstick, brilliant eyes, leather pants and jacket, silver bracelet and blue crystal earrings... and my nice rose-patterned, see-through shirt under that, with a sky blue tank underneath. Too far? /.\ Stupid boys. The damn DDR song "So Many Men" has been stuck in my head for a while now...

And if that wasn't the worst of the worst, lately I've been so tired when I get home that I fall asleep and don't wake up until some ungodly hour of the morning when it's too late to do my homework! What's more, my stupid computer keeps on starting up showing my old desktop, trying to start up programs (different each time I boot up) that don't exist (I checked) and changing all my *.txt and *.doc files into gibberish! AAAUGH! -_- I love computers, but they suck too... ;_;

Suddenly I feel as if I've gone waaaaay off topic... kekke...
azurite: (anzu's problems)
Some days just go your way... you're on a roll you can't explain... and then it all goes down the drain. -Meredith Brooks "Some days"

Boy, I know the feeling. These past two months, my astro house has been in shambles, my real house is on a shaky (figurative) foundation, and school... sucks.

I'm in a pessimistic mood, but as the time when I lost my wallet and got it back (intact!) again, part of my faith in myself and humanity is restored.

I've been miserable since yesterday when I broke out to one of my friends that I was hating everything around me, including and most especially school, and that I was terrified of going back to the AP class I'd cut before because I never understood anything- even when I did the reading and such. He promised me he'd show up today to help me out... and he didn't. Again, with the trust issue.

Today was okay, 'cept yesterday left me a bit shaken, so when I woke up I was in quiet-grump mode. My mom was freaked that I'd left the house without a word to her.

Then, of the worst things to happen, the newspaper I'd been slaving over with a few of my friends (the one for the school) just... *poofed*

My friend luckily found a TMP file that restored the old (and I mean OLD) hard copy, but all the recent work-- the horoscopes, entertainment, and feature articles were lost. I was moping, crying... (yes, even though I promised myself in 7th grade I would never cry in public again) generally being very upset... until I remembered that I saved the article that I'd rewritten on the web! I'm happier than I should be, I suppose.
Tomorrow is the question-- I'll be meeting up at DH... and I kinda don't want to see "that guy" again... you know, the one that might have a crush on me, and yet is my linkup between MY crush and me... *sigh* Why is life so damn complicated? I think I'll snag some cash from mom (after I sweet her up by doing all the dishes in one sitting) and get myself a crepe... and maybe the latest Peach Girl manga. ^^ I'm trying to smile, really I am...
azurite: (mars says let 'em burn)
There's someone I know whom I simply can't stand. I wish he'd bury his head in the sand-- or move to the moon or deep outer space. Whenever I see him I make a weird face. But today during recess, outside in the yard, he suddenly gave me a Valentine's card. I wish that he hadn't, it made me upset; it's the prettiest card I could possibly get. -From some random poem in my room. -_-

I wish. *sigh* People can be so annoying (as demonstrated above) but so perplexing (again, see above.) Some people are just plain annoying.

1) This girl in my history class (and English) does whatever she can, whenever she can, to annoy me. When mt teacher lost a pen I had, I asked him to try and find it, and she was all like "Huh, it's your fault for leaving it in here in the first place and nyahahaha..." *cough* GRRRRRRRRRRRR!! Was it any of her business in the first place?

2) Players-- and I don't mean people who can't stay committed. I have a few so-called friends who totally bluffed me on the Internet into thinking something that wasn't true-- yes, I'm the gullible one (despite the fact that my motto is "trust no one, they'll stab you in the back.") and I took it, hook, line, and sinker. What's more, the friend who was supposed to be IMing me said it was another friend (who I don't talk to that much anymore-- she's mostly interested in boys or something else...) and... argh! I was so mad. Pranks are so preschool.

3) BF-minded-- those people (okay, girls) who think that their boyfriend is god, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yes, I'm somewhat jealous; YES, I've said I'll die a spinster (or a stripper O.o); and YES I have a tendency to MAKE "mankind" (boykind?) hate me. -_- But I'm just waiting for someone who can match me wit for wit. I'm the type that craves challenges, but doesn't want to put forth an arm and an eyeball to achieve them. Plus, there's some that are so protective or whatnot, and when they fight with their BF, it's like the end of the world. Excuse my cynicism, but -- THEY'RE JUST BOYS, GET OVER IT! >_<

With that said, I am retiring to kill some aliens in Doom95. ^^
azurite: (o rly? - usagi)
When you go to high school, it's really only natural that the bathrooms will be full of graffiti and other some-such tagwork. I've been noticing for a while which stalls in which bathrooms on which floors have what style of writing... because I'm interested in writing, any kind, really, and it's interesting to see what people write.

One of my first ideas for a serious book was sort of based off the recent "Chicken Soup" style books, especially the ones for teens, that really related to teens and the lives they live today. I wanted to call it "The Bathroom Philosophy," and have it include all these strange and inspirational quotes you see littered about a bathroom stall.

At my school, the doors to each of the bathrooms are no more than three feet in length, and each is painted a bright red. People will graffiti on the marble walls if there's no room on the doors (and quite often enough, there isn't), or if they get wind that the admins are going to have the bathroom doors repainted so they can "fumigate" students out of there during class time. ^^; Sneaky little devils, those teachers. Anyways, the paint on the marble looks much tackier than the red paint, so people prefer to write on the doors-- if not those, then the toilet paper dispensers.

On one floor, there's a full-length bitch list. Sadly, some people have gotten to the level where they "top" the #1 listing, and say "All ____ girls." Someone inevitably gets angry at this, and says, "No, it's all ____ because they're all..." yeah, you get the picture. Some people "write back." One person called a bitch was the class president, a very nice and interesting girl who's on three varsity teams. Thus, six or so girls "wrote back" to whoever dared to call her a bitch, saying that the prez was nice, and just because she was class president and on three varsity sports, it was no reason to hate. Plenty of people signed their agreement. It was nice to see people sticking up for each other, even if they were vandalizing in the process.

On one faded puke-green toilet dispenser, it reads: Girls, us girls, we stand accused. We've been physically, mentally, spiritually bruised. (The rest is either a blur or I forgot it... ^^;)

Then again, plenty of people avoid the bathrooms like the plague. One boy commented to me last year, "I'd use the bathrooms at this school-- if I didn't have to use scuba gear to get to the toilets." Ehh... gek. The girls' bathrooms aren't as bad, but they're getting there. It's not the tagging that bugs me, but the papers left everywhere, pads hanging off toilet stalls and the like, and the soap that's either never there or smells strange. I go there as a last resort, can't-hold-it-in-any-longer, wanna-get-away-from-class/some guy, have-to-wash-my-hands-becuase-I-don't-know-what-I-just-touched. ^^; Yeah, and that's when I see those tags littering the doors and the walls, and I wonder.

People really think in bathrooms. People say things like, "It's really sad to see people wasting their time hating on others," and "You must be really bored to write here... I know I am." and "This school sux" (to which, to my amazement, was added-- 'doesn't suck anymore than you do,' or something to that effect) Spirited people tagging? Whoa.

That's why I like my school-- even if I complain about it all the time. ^.~
azurite: (dancing 2k-tan)
1. I WILL clean my room before my birthday (4.14)

2. I WILL get a 2.5+ GPA before February 15th, if it is possible, regardless of the idiocy and lack of ability in my teachers.

3. I WILL pay off my debt to Columbia House, because I want to have a mostly-spotless credit record for college.

4. I WILL make up my mind about where I want to go to college-- and make that decision for the right reasons. I won't go to a college to follow a guy, or get away from my mom, or be with my friends. I will be selfish for once, and for good reasons.

5. I WILL go to Fanime and Cosplay (dress up) as Kagome Higurashi from Inuyasha. I'll do whatever it takes to make a costume, because some pointless and difficult tasks aren't once you master them.

6. I WILL get a boyfriend before I graduate, and remain the one wearing the pants. No guy is going to boss me about or make me his "love slave."

7. I WILL go out and do more with my mom-- because I never want to lose her to pettiness, the way "I lost my dad" to stupidity.

8. I WILL get my Sailormoon artbooks back, moth-eaten or not, from my dad, because he has no right to keep my stuff hostage.

9. I WILL succeed in Senior Journalism, because I know it's what I love, what I like, and what I can do. I will turn in articles, get along with people in the class, not nag the teacher, and get everything done.

10. I WILL get along with my classmates, because come the class of 2003 reunion, I'll be the one surrounded by friends, while the idiots that have made my life hell will be alone, crying, and covered in super-sticky-punch.

11. I WILL eat healthier and exercise more, because even if I am as white as Casper, sunburn too easily, am as freckled as a Dalmatian, and wear glasses, being able to run a mile is something every teenager should be able to do.

That's all for now... but I WILL think of more. ^.~
azurite: (yuuko xxxholic)
If you're in any kind of English class, one of the things you're bound to learn about it how some people are just evil. Classically so, in a Shakespearean sense- meaning, with no reason at all.

There are "those days" when everything goes wrong-- as Meredith Brooks and Murphy say, "and then it all goes down the drain--" all at once. I'd been desperately trying to improve my grades coming the onset of the finals-- and I had! By some miracle I had gotten the highest grade in my Japanese class on the final, and a pretty good score on my last test in ROTC. I was hoping these grades would bring my Bs up to As, so my GPA would at least be a 2.5.

I don't know about my GPA just yet, but my grades were notched up slightly because of my finals-- except in Math, which I am amazingly beginning to understand and do!

I go home, expecting to watch a movie, eat a nice fresh artichoke-- but there's no mayo! I go out to Safeway to get it and AUGH! in the mayo aisle I discover my wallet -complete with $23- is missing! I go home, praying that it fell out in the pantry or on the stairs, but with no luck. I remained in a rut for three straight days, and then when I finally called to report my ATM missing, I was told the card had already been blocked. Huh? Then, miraculously, I was told the next day that my wallet had been found! I went to the bank it was located at the next day, and I was ecstatic-- even my $23 was intact (even if my mom made me give it back to her). Earlier, I'd ordered a pizza and the people at Round Table discounted $5 from the total cost because they'd shortchanged me last time (damned delivery people who don't get English). This, of course, wasn't revealed to me until WAAAY later, and it turned out I was shortchanged (again) of $8 or so dollars-- so my next pizza is free. (Does happy dance)

My fanfictions are going great, I'm bursting with new article ideas, and I *might* (read: pray) be able to work on the March runoff elections to pay off my long-standing debt to Columbia House (jackass creditors are so deceiving!)

Ooh, and I've even come up with more fic (and song) ideas in the past three days-- a song called "Transparent Brain" (kooky, I know) and another called "Standing Here/Waitin'" and a fanfic based on what I'm learning in History known as "Sheared" for now.

I hope this semi-good-luck/mood streak continues-- I've been waiting for Friday all week long, and now that it's here, I hope everything goes well.

Things to do today: see "A Walk To Remember," or "The Majestic," preferably with Mom because she never goes anywhere or does anything with me anymore, prep for "Digital Horizon" tomorrow, and GET MONEY to pay off debt! Research colleges! Write articles! Eat healthy! Wai-wai!
azurite: (mokuba's 1024)
I wasn't going to write anything today-- at least, not after my day got better. If you've ever read any of my previous entries, you might have noticed that I usually only write when I get depressed or seriously angry and NEED to vent. Then again, I write a lot, so what does that tell you? ^.~

Suffice it to say, my day started out just short of okay. I cleaned chalkboards for a teacher who I detest. My grades haven't improved much since the second quarter of first semester, when I had a 2.29 GPA, due to a smattering of Ds on my report card. I was disappointed. Even for the self-named "slacker" and manic-depressive stick girl, 3 Ds is not something to be happy about. I make it a point to at least GO to school, TRY to understand things, and PARTICIPATE in class. There are plenty of people who think I'm a goody-goody just for that; others say I could be worse. Both are right, on some level, I suppose.

My day got much better when I went to my 6th period-- it turned out I had the highest grade in my class for the final exam in Japanese-- a 97! I was ecstatic. 1st had been a bust, with a D (which my teacher said she *might* bump up to a C-- if she felt like it), 2nd there was barely anyone there, and my substitute (which we've had for three weeks now, since my real teacher had a baby and then got deported O.o;) says she doesn't know the grades, but she did explain the stuff I didn't know, 3rd got me a D on the final I seriously tried on, and 4th got me a D with a glimmer of hope for being bumped up to a C. Lunch, which normally cheers me up, only furthered to depress me, as I spent it in the Journalism lab. I always feel lately in there that I'm the only one who tries, and when I cut anyone some slack, I'm the slave-driver. I just don't understand people these days.

I go home, clean my room for a few hours, and decide to make dinner. But there's no Miracle Whip (good stuff!) for my artichoke (yummm!) so I ask mom if I can go to the market. Now, I normally hate going out late for several reasons: 1) I have to cross a major thoroughfare where people drive like students tag-- every which way-- and 2) it's late, dark, and cold-- need I say more? Lately I've been pretty okay with it, knowing enough to keep myself standing. But I get to the supermarket some eight blocks away, and in the condiments aisle, I discover my wallet is missing! @!#$%^$^%$#%# !!! Angry at first, terrified the next, and crying the rest of my way, I backtracked home-- with no luck. Go home, tell mom because I have a god damned conscience (and by the way, despite my fervent tearfilled prayers, "He" didn't help me one bit-- so I might convert to the point where there are no male schmoes up in the clouds getting my attention), repeat. Still no luck.

Eat artichoke with acidy-butter-lemon sauce, feel depressed. Watch Jeopardy, where all the answers are prattled off like shotgun bullets. Here's the kicker-- the contestants of tonight were a security manager who looked like a Marine, an old guy with a horrible receding hairline and a cross between a Santa/Punch 'Em Out guy, and a shy schoolteacher. The schoolteacher, who was the only woman, barely answered more than twice each round. The security manager was the returning champion, smart and confident, but he ended up getting in a battle of the brains with Mr. Receding Hair once the latter got over his embarrassment from several wrong answers. Then comes the final round, and the question is about the elements: this element, a metal, the first known to be *discovered* in 1669, set England aglow with excitement. Marine-dude answers Calcium (I think)... whatever he did answer, it was wrong. Next-in-line, the recede-y dude, answers Neon-- sorry, not a metal, it's a noble gas (even *I* know that). The schoolteacher answers Sodium (she looked unsure...). They were all wrong, it turned out, but both of the guys, who were so full of themselves with all their answers and three times the money (and then some) of the poor young lady, bet all they had, reducing themselves to under $1000 apiece. The $3400 the teacher had saved up over the rounds was the lead! I had wanted her to win, just because... it felt like I was rooting for the underdog, but it was the *good* underdog. And she won! And for some reason, I'm just a little bit happier. Maybe I won't get my wallet back, and I'll have to deal with the hassle of buying a new one, replacing my ATM card, and bugging my friend for a new senior portrait, but at least I have this one day of short-lived hope. It's a nice feeling, really.
azurite: (escaflowne destiny)
Ah, never get enough of these pointless posts. Well, maybe it's not so much a pointless post as a me-ranting-yet-again.

So I'm on the bus this morning, and it's around 11:31. About. (laughs) The bus has only about eight people on it, two of them are teenagers, besides me. I'm sitting down, holding onto the metal pole, staring at my hands. I just had this thought, you know, one of those not-quite-epiphanies. My hands are like an old lady's hands. I'm not even 17 yet. You can see the bones in my hand, whether I flex them or not, and if I had X-Ray vision, it wouldn't be much different. My knuckles have these little brownish-pink patches over them, like someone who wears Band-Aids too much. But they look like that all the time. I have a big red-gold callus on my right hand's ring finger. Thankfully not my left, or I'd hate getting married. Then again... I don't know.

So I'm staring at my hand like this, and I think back to when it was really cold. Only about a week or two ago really; it's still winter. When it's that cold, those brown-pink patches on my ice-white skin turn blue violet, just a physical reminder that I'm freezing my @$$ off. And the white skin turns a sort of frosty pink, like the color you'd expect to see on someone pinched by too many aunts, or on Santa's nose. And I realize, somehow, out of this weird observation of my tiny, bony, white hands, that I don't know what lies ahead.

I don't know whether it's going to be colder later, or whether I'll ever get married. Little things. -_-; I have the hands of an old lady. But they're not soft, not welcoming. I've never held hands with anyone save my own family members, or really close friends. Never caressed anyone's face. I have no nails-- I have stubs that are always raw and coarse looking. Bad habits die hard, I guess. So I'm thinking, what will I be like when I really am old?

Will I be a spinster, like I laughingly (not inside) tell my friends when they go to dances and I don't? Somehow, I think my flimsy excuse of hating slow dances or not being able to afford them won't fly for the next year and a half.

Will I be rich and famous, the girl who struts into her high school reunion, makes an @$$ out of those people who tortured her, brutalized her, and made her feel horrible?

Will I be a slut, showing off my goods (or right now, as it seems, my lack thereof) because I have nothing else for it?

Will I be there at all? Will I just be someone who fades into the background, part of that white-snow-noise you see on TV? I don't know, and that's the thing.

When I was little, I was self-assured, confident. I probably got that bit from my sister. She acted big, even if she didn't talk it. There was the dream of being a ballerina, a chef, a mommy with two point five kids, a something-better-than-what-I-am-now. Then the irresistible, impossible fantasy of being a princess. Maybe not so much a damsel in distress, just someone that tromps through it all, comes out on top, and just... is.
Then I wanted to be a fashion designer. I threw myself into drawing, shopping, trying to be the person in style, yet rebellious. I admired (and still do) Vera Wang, Bob Mackie... I wanted to be a fashion designer for Barbie dolls, actually. Then I kind of fell out of that scene, I don't know why. I wanted to be a writer, and journalism became my passion. So I'm sitting here in the journalism lab, not knowing who's written their articles or even if I'll make it into college. This morning I deemed myself a slacker, because for the two weeks of winter break I didn't do a single bit of my homework, for any of my classes.

Since 8th grade, I haven't had much luck in English, which used to be (and by all rights still should be) my best class. Sad, isn't it? Last year my teacher was dubbed a bitch by even my most 'Puritan' (inside joke) of friends. This year, I thought my frequently-vacationing teacher was okay, until this morning, when I surveyed 'the damage' I had done to myself by not doing my work. I wasted all day yesterday sleeping in because of a phenomenal headache (could have been a migraine except I didn't vomit) and I still have makeup work to do. I vowed (when I finally dragged myself out of bed at 5:45AM) that I would not leave the house until I was finished with my work. I managed to finish all 4 of my lengthy prewriting activities for Huckleberry Finn (egads, I hate that novel) but not my thesis paper ('the longest of the year'). I did 3 out of 5 lit-book activities, whilst I expressed my distaste for memorize-repeat activities such as that.

So there you go. I don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going, or why I'm where I am. I don't need my teachers nagging me for not going to my classes; I've suffered plenty in this life and it looks like the Powers that Be have set me up to want myself (yes, I know, I have a conscience) to suffer more.

*waves flag of surrender*
azurite: (screw it trashcan)
Today, I went to talk to my counselor about my classes. You see, this past quarter-- the 2nd of 3 in the Fall Semester-- I have a 2.29 GPA. That has to be the worst I have ever gotten-- in memory. She said I have "The April Look" and it's only December. With AP tests to prep for, and tons of things to do throughout the spring semester, I had to get un-stressed now, so I could come back to school as a better person, striving to get into that good university, with the best Journalism program.

My reputation plainly states that I am an over-achieving, teacher's pet, suck-up goody two-shoes. My middle school rivals would have said I was a bitchy, bratty, outspoken drama queen. My friends would say I am a depressing, shadow-like slinky-- bouncy sometimes, dead on the stairs the next. Funny analogies, ne?
So the workload has been overbearing, and I have 2 Ds, 3 Bs, and 2 Cs. The Ds, ironically enough, are what I have always thought to be my best subjects-- History and English. But lately, if you have been reading up my past entries, I haven't been very motivated-- and this is of my own accord and doing, not due to family problems. I'm halfway there-- I'm semi-motivated, but always tired, stressed, and upset.

I told my counselor that I was thinking about dropping out, and that somedays I just didn't want to get out of bed. That was the truth, and sometimes still is.

I usually end up hating the holidays, and the workload that always comes with the annual winter break will only make me want to drop out more. Of all the classes I have though, ROTC is the most "expendable". The first three weeks of school when I didn't have RO, I was bored-- but not stressed. I did my homework, I went home, and I was generally happy. ROTC didn't make a huge impact on me after I re-joined, but slowly, the workload that came with the responsibility I thought I wanted pushed down on me. I stayed in the stuffy basement until 6:30, when I told myself -and my mom- that I would be home at 4. I get yelled at because of stupid Christmas lights, and "reminded" about getting the numbers for events we have participated in before 10:00. Sorry I'm attempting to have a life outside of RO... but if the class is going to bring me down, then I guess I can learn to live without it again. I hated it so much at the end of the year... I think I can learn to do it again. I love webpage designing, but maybe I'll leave the RO page up to someone else more dedicated and less stressed-- with no social life or normal future. ^^; Maybe that's just me, and the people in RO I know at my school... I'll I've got to say is "whatever" and I can't wait until those 3 fateful weeks until break is up.
azurite: (submit to the webmistress!)
I'm in a better mood ^^

I like listening to dance/techo music, and that's just what I'm doing now. I have to leave for my sixth period soon, so I'll type ASAP- it just gets funnier every time I visit. I have this notebook from Korea that I got in a mall here in CA. It has a parody of the Wonder Year's song "Stand by Me" and this weird quite-- "born free and life is worth living but only worth living if you're born free." There's also "Tennis Sky" who thinks it's a "funny sport". She likes "Beayutful flower." ^^; This site has both great fonts and great quotes! One of those quotes made me think about RO-- this point I always make. There are two ways to be yelled at in ROTC-- by doing something the right way, or by achieving the right result. There's no compromise, no both, it's either or. You get yelled at for whatever you didn't do-- and the quote is "Teamwork means never having to take all the blame by yourself." Heh-- RO emphasizes teamwork and all that... so next time I have an assignment or whatever, I'll work with two other people to share the wonderful world of blame.

Oh yes, and I might not have to go back to ROTC this spring semester! My mom thinks it's stressing me out, and making my more important academic classes suffer. I don't know whether to be excited or not. So all I've got to say for now is-- eh.

azurite: (autumn kitty)
I seem to have this thing where I swing from being happy to being mega-depressed. Sometimes my friends help keep me in a good mood, sometimes not.

I went to this anime screening at State on Friday night. I love going there, but sometimes it pisses me off that my younger friend that I used to go with blows me off. I mean, it's a few hours on Friday night-- and the way I figure it, if she wanted so badly to go to another high school or go to a game center, she could do it when she cuts school, or on a weekend. Not like I'm encouraging that or whatever... I guess it's cool to make friends with the college guys. One of them is really nice... but as I said, he's a college guy. Why do I always like the tall ones?

I'm finally getting a head-start on some of my webpages--the one for my school's anime club, Les Soldats, and another for my fav TV shows/movies and their fanfictions. But that seems to be distracting me from school, as usual.

Oh yes-- one of my best friends-- the total tomboy, anti-guy one whose mom has a terminal illness-- she has a *boyfriend*. He's a college student at Berkeley, and they met because she's supposed to be his tutor-- as an excuse to me, my friend says... "if it can happen to me, it can happen to you too." Oh, I can't wait.

I already ranted enough about my lack of money, my desire to drop out... yadda yadda. So today I try to convince myself that motivation comes from wanting to one-up all those assholes that have made my life miserable at a high school reunion. But in order to be better than them, I have to graduate-- and graduate with honors, so I can go to some great school, meet some great guy, and live the fairy tale. My short-lived and fading motivation is simple, quite like Thomas the Train-- "I can." I will. I hope I can-- and I hope I will.
azurite: (anger of angels - kisara)
Sigh. November already. And I thought last year was bad, January and then May sneaking up on me so fast. Finals, SATs, PSATs, college searching... ai-yi-yi!

Okay, so I'm only a junior. Sure, I should be taking classes seriously, participating and all that... getting volunteer credits and improving my rusty skills... but I can't.
Now wait, before you brand me Miss Excuses 2001... I have an excuse. Not a good one, mind you, but an excuse. I absolutely suck at doing stuff. I mean, I can't motivate myself to do homework afterschool. I'll do the reading, and sometimes I'll do the essays or whatnot-- I ALWAYS show up to school-- but when it comes time for the big papers, where you have to turn in an outline with a thesis, and then a revised outline, a rough draft... gawd, I'd rather just sleep. Or sit in front of a computer and type in my online diary... if you get my drift.

So, back in Freshman year, when I used to be a total suck-up, and Sophomore year, when I was a rebel with a cause and some pretty warped teachers, I did my work, and I got the grades.

First grading period says I have mostly Bs, one C in Math, and a few scattered As. But this time, I KNOW it's not my fellow classmates, or a psycho teacher bringing me down. I just don't do the work. Before, I was absent like, every Monday, so I just copied what I missed from a friend.

But I knew that was bad, and I told her not to let me do it again. I want to stick to that-- not cave. That's just the kind of person I am... I can write so fluently in my diary, or debate up a storm, but when I have to write essays, do worksheets, gather materials, I freeze, I forget... I procrastinate. I've tried Feng Shui-ing my room, tried getting it a little clean... tried to avoid the distractions like gaming and webpage designing here at school... but I just can't do it.

How do I get motivated? My mom told me this morning that if I didn't go to school, the one convention I love attending wouldn't happen. Thusly, I hauled my ass out of bed and got up. But she left before I did. I had two choices-- go back to sleep, or go to school. Already being awake, and intent on going to school "because it was right" I did just that. But I didn't go to first. I'm sitting here in one of my later classes, with a computer and freedom abound... NOT doing my work.

Sigh... back to square one.
azurite: (Default)
Last year in my psychopathic math class, one of my "friends" (who annoyed me sometimes, but was equivalent to a Jigglypuff in terms of attitude) told me about a "field trip" known as the Sojurn to the Past. It wasn't until today that I really got interested in the trip. It's a 10 day trip, with only four schools going. My school is the only one from San Francisco able to go--the others are from Sunnyvale, Oakland, and Fremont. I really want to take the opportunity, but I feel out of place already.

First off, I'll say that it sounds like an incredible opportunity, and I believe the speaker and my friends when they say it will change your life.

You spend 10 days in the Deep South (of the United States) learning about the Civil Rights Movement. Why would I feel out of place? I mean, everyone wants to learn, right?

One thing I feel I should mention is that I am not proud at all of my heritage. I'm what I refer to as a Euro-Mutt, a mix of Western European cultures. I'm both German and Israeli, French and Welsh, Dutch and Danish. I used to consider myself Jewish, but when I was told I had to go to a Hebrew school, get a bat mitzvah, and quit my high school-- not to mention the fact that my mother was not Jewish, I strayed from that path. I celebrate Christmas, but on the same level as Bart Simpson-- for family get-togethers and plenty of gifts. Food is always a great bonus, too. But basically, the history of all my cultures is a war-ravaged, racist, prejudiced one.

Believe it or not, a white guy-- and I state here, I'm stark white too-- called me a "whitey". I don't get that. People complain that others act "ghetto." I'm big on individuality. I say that when you act like someone else, the person you really are is shoved aside. It's NOT you, which makes you deceitful. Why would you want to do that? You don't really gain anything in the long run.

So I'd feel out of place on this because, while I do consider myself outspoken and all for the rights of the individual, I know that there's just so much that one person can't do alone. Trying to get others to help you and believe in what you say isn't easy, especially when so many are intent on falling back on religion, or history.

But that's what this trip is all about. I don't want to be outcast. Ironic, don't you think?
It's expensive, but I want to go. I think I know why, but I'm not sure. I love to travel, but are my reasons sound? I really don't know. I seem to be confused quite a lot these days.
azurite: (yuna will fly)
The world seems to have gone all awry on me in the course of one week. I can't blame it on anyone in particular, the way the San Francisco Examiner does in their Wednesday morning issue, with the bold headline of "BASTARDS!".

This whole World Trade Center/Pentagon/Pennsylvania issue has become a sort of global phenomena-- my friends online that I do not know face to face are performing "roll call" to check up on everyone; some are shutting down their websites in order to assist with blood donation, grief support, medical relief, and debris clean-up. I've been flooded with "are you ok?" emails from groups that formerly served only to annoy me with their junk mail.

My friend in class, who formerly could only think of her boyfriend in New York (a fact which I forgot about on Wednesday) and sex was suddenly fascinated by this event.

My mother was busy trying to call all her relatives-- all living on the East coast in relative proximity to the explosions. I'm still worried about my baby cousin, cousins removed, and aunts/uncles.

I can't do anything about any of these situations, and today, things only got worse. It started in the morning, when I was flooded with homework I forgot I had and didn't have the textbooks for. Then in my 2nd period Chem, I spilled some wite-out on myself, and when the guy next to me (formerly a nice, yet egotistical) started laughing. I wiped a smidgen (emphasis on smidgen there) on his shirt sleeve and he went berserk. Okay, so I shouldn't have reacted to him laughing the way I did; look at it from my POV: I've been an outcast all my life. I got sick of being laughed at, taunted and teased all throughout elementary and middle school. Losing my sister effectively made me a "bitch" but I try not to overdo it. But when people laugh at me, I'm torn between wanting to rip their heads off or run away crying.

In 6th grade gym, there were these two jerks. Coincidentally, they had the same initials to which I will refer them by: JA (Present Tense Note: Judd Anderson and Jesse Anderson, for the uninformed; no relation to each other as far as I knew). Both JAs were taunting me about the loss of my sister, saying "bet they never found the body" and "if they did, it musta been a gorilla's body". I easily could have beaten them both into a bloody pulp, but telling them to shut up was enough for the moment. But they persisted, so I ran out, crying, heedless of the yells of the idiotic substitute. Since then, and since my sister's death, I've (sadly?) forced myself to not cry in front of ANYONE if I can help it. Maybe it's sexist, but I'm not a guy or anything who believes that it's not "manly" to cry. I just don't want to. It shows weakness. Leaves you open to attack.
I want to be physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally strong so I won't ever run away crying again. So I won't blow up at the people I care about and ruin precious friendships.

I have some good friends whose lives seem a hell of a lot better than mine do 99.9% of the time. It makes me depressed and often suicidal. Somehow, I always find the bright side of matters. This week, it's been a bit hard to do.

My friend's boyfriend is in NY. Out of harm's way, but since they're separated (a'la "Friends" I guess) the guy wants to see another girl, the same age as my friend. Now, my friend uses her ex-bf's screenname, and today, the girl her boy wants to ask out (Can you believe it!? How cruel!) IMd her. At first, she didn't know who my friend was, but later, she said she knew who she was. Asked ridiculous, rude, and often pointless questions regarding the relationship, and why my friend still hung onto her ex. My friend was half-crying, half-screaming. But I've never had a real bf, even if I've "felt real love" before. So the best I could do was say "If I were you..."

One of HER friends is pregnant with her ex's baby. That ex wants the girl to have an abortion, but the girl doesn't want to. She's still in love with her ex, who is now involved with another girl. My friend suggested she get a lawyer/doctor to help her out, and ensure that the guy supports her no matter what. Even if she still loves him, it's both their responsibilities-- for the girl, and for the baby. Right?

The world is erring on itself. People are angry. I don't know what to do.
azurite: (yami wants to play monopoly)
Like everyone else, I'm not exactly bouncing off the walls and in a state of permanent GLEE about Back to School. I'm sure someone out there is.

Not me, though. But you wouldn't have known that, judging from my excited "yes!"es as I left my counselor's
office yesterday morning.

Why? Let's look at my class schedule, shall we?
1st period (7:30 AM) Ah, I couldn't care less about waking up that early. Hell, my mom wakes up at 5:30, even on days she doesn't work. She also leaves the house by 7AM, even though she doesn't start work till 9. It only takes her an hour to get to work by public transport. What a stickler for "overtime".

Ahem, anyway, the class is American Lit Honors. With my best bud, another girlfriend, and a trite annoying boy who couldn't stop groaning at the prospect of ME being in his class. Oh joy. Better than my last English teacher, at any rate. Ooh boy, could I have complained about HER!

2nd period is Chem. I feel really stupid when it comes to Science, because everyone else in my grade seems to already be in Physics. I'm thinking, "Why me?" I did great on my Science STAR 9 tests, had great science teachers in middle school (well, sorta... not the 6th grade one) and even won Honorable Mention at the citywide competition. I might end up in the same class as the "ones who need discipline" and shouldn't technically be in 11th grade- they should still be in 9th! I guess the admins want to just get rid of 'em faster. Geh. I could survive if one of my old friends from Bio last year is in it. She's cool.

3rd period is Math with (YAY!!) a new teacher. As all my friends know, my last math teacher was... well, a few lightbulbs short of a chandelier. Proud to be a Quaker, former teacher at San Quentin (the PRISON, not the school) and a graduate of Cornell. Also a starter of unoffcial-cut-days-to-go-to-rallies-far-away. Anywho, I didn't learn much, as one can tell from my shockingly low STAR 9 score, but who needs Advanced Trig in Journalism anyway? I wanna write!

4th period is AP US History, which is a college course. If anything, I'm freaked about the class, because NOW, in the last week, I'm doing the summer assignment. 100 pages of reading has never seemed so monstrous to me before. At least I'm in the class with my best bud (yet again) and have studied... a little bit.

5th period! Favorite class thus far! Had it for three years now (counting this one I'm just starting) same time, same place. It's JOURNALISM, so of course I love it. I'm the editor in chief, so this time, things will be DECENT for a change! Already checked the class, and we have 6 lovely PCs. That's the only class I can hardly wait for. ^^

6th period, last class of the day! YAY! I Haven't had only 6 classes since... two years ago! It's because, even though I made it into Advanced Vocal, the group I signed up for and got into is taught only during 5th, and well... I won't drop JLS for anything. Maybe I'll join the show choir afterschool or something, depending on the demand of the AP and Honors classes I have. Anywho, 6th is Japanese. ^^ Hope I can actually handle the workload... not to mention the people. Last year was a bit... WEIRD.

7th is empty, and I plan on using it for study hall in the library or something. Wait for my 7th period friends. That'll be a first. Hopefully (I say this now, I am not sure) I won't get ROTC, but then again, I think I could take the work if I did. 7 classes is no cup of tea, and a free period sounds so much better... but still, I kinda want a staff position. That's really the only perk, because it's still a class, with tests, drilling, waiting, uniforms... gekk. Then again, it knocks off one more year of elective. Not that I need it, Journalism is taking care of that. So... the cons really outweigh the pros in that one.
Besides, like I said before, it's study time for AP or Honors classes, work in Journalism, or time to sign up for afterschool clubs, like show choir.

Oh joy. I'm biting my nails and getting ready for Friday, the night of doom, when I won't be able to sleep, dreading the coming Monday...
azurite: (skip*beat kyouko)
Yes, rated P, P for PARODY! Run back now if you don't like a diary entry twisted with song.

Okay, so there's this guy. Skinny, full of himself and his pride (of what, I wonder?), and loves his hair. Thinks he can break dance. THINKS being the keyword. Over all, he's pretty nice, and relatively okay-looking (my friend would die if she heard me say this more than once). He managed to get into choir too-- while I'm in Advanced Girls-Only, he's in Advanced Co-Ed with my friend. He's actually quite good: a deep, deep baritone. Sorta like an Asian Barry White (how weird is that?). So, I'm talking to my friend at the bus stop, and he comes up (seeing as we had just hung out with him and his friends at the rec center). Out of nowhere, I ask her how weird it would be if we did a duet from Anastasia (At The Beginning). My other friend earlier had mentioned, "Oh, the *romantic* song!" and my other friend had simply gagged. When someone acts immaturely for a long time, you tend to act bitchy to them fo rno reason. Or at least I do. I'm not a very people-person to begin with. Or maybe I should say guy-person. Guys bug me. I like them, but most bug me.

So then, at the bust stop later, my friend remarks, 'Oh, how weird it would be if you guys sang "A Whole New World"? You guys'd be kicking each other the whole time!' No, I told her, I'd paraphrase the song so it'd fit us. Here it goes-- subject to revision. (Underlines lyrics are him, Italics are me)

I can show you a world/Peaceful, Quiet, Relax-ing/Tell me Bratness, now when did you last leave us all alone?/I can open your eyes/Take you hell by hell/Over, sideways and through my hair gel/On a roller coaster ride/A whole new world/A new fantastic world without you/No one to tell me no/Or where to go/Or say that I'm Shin-ji
A whole new world/A brand new place I never knew/But when I'm far from you/It's just so cool/That now I'm in a whole new world without you
Now I'm in a whole new world without you
Unbelievable sights/people not using hair gel/baldies, crew cuts, and afros/In an endless sea of hair/A whole new world
Don't you dare come back now
Some people who can really break-dance
I think not-I'm better
I'm like a movie star/I've come so far/I can't go back to a world where you exist
A whole new world
Every turn a surprise
With new hairdos to try
Every moment gets better
I'll chase you far away/But just today/I've got a whole new world to explore without you
A whole new world/That's where we'll be
A thrilling chase
A wondrous place
Without you...

Yeah, I coulda done better. I mean, I don't hate him as much as the song implies: like I said, I think he's kinda cute. Just immature, full of himself and his hair.

-_- Suggestions? You don't want to see me write songs when I get depressed. Heh.

Oh yes, before I get sued, the above song is (c) me, Azurite, but the actual melody and lyrics are (c) by the writers from Disney, etc. etc. I ain't got no money, and it's only being used for entertainment purposes. So nyeh.

Bai peeps!
azurite: (nana oosaki)
No, this isn't a rhetorical question, like what is the sound of one hand clapping, or what is the one question you can't say yes to?

Rather, an unfinished series I wrote, based on the events of my freshmen year in high school. I organized events by putting them in a diary, and from the diary, I write the stories. If I post the entries here, would anyone be objecting to the story part? They're all real... the entries would be in prose form, and I'd love to hear some feedback on them so I could avoid the same mistakes twice.

Since I don't want this entry to be horrendously short, here's a preview of what the first "Impossible" entry would be if I posted it here...

Impossible, Part 1 )

Present Tense Note: I stopped writing "Impossible" because, for one, it was very difficult to write every event that happened, and two, it was becoming very disheartening to stick to the "truth" of the story. I tried adapting it into a Sailor Moon AU, to try and distance it somewhat from my life, but that failed. I don't think writing fanfics that are so similar to real life events is healthy. It doesn't allow for healing or a proper perspective. While the chapters of "Impossible" that I did write serve as a sort of reminder of ME back then-- my feelings, my attitude, and my writing style-- I don't think they deserve a place as fanfiction anywhere on the web.
azurite: (all muses are busy...)
Oh lord, I've just had the most horrendous day. Question: Why is it when you think you're giving yourself adequate time to sleep, you always feel dead tired in the morning? I certainly did.

I shook myself up a bottle of iced tea (city famous) and trudged off to school with a smile on my face.
I had been rummaging through photo archives of the journalism class I was in the night before, and was bringing back the Tupperware container. The teacher told me that I had to print out the pages.

I kept my bag and jacket on, thinking I'd only be here for the remaining 15 minutes before 1st period. WRONG! I ended up having to correct errors, scan pictures, resize images... oh I never thought Journalism could be so stressing... I mean, in one week, yes, a class can be stressing, but in one day? I'd never been so frustrated. I ended having my teacher call all my other teachers and telling them I couldn't come. By 4th period, right before lunch, I was agitated. I thought all of this had been done last night! But no, everything was left unfinished, the senior panoramic was funny looking, and things were missing, the wrong font, or in the wrong place. We had to organize everything "just so" and we'd have a proper number of pages.

The fact that I was getting a low grade in my favorite class- Japanese- wasn't helping any. My partner's mother has a terminal disease, and most of the weekends I could work she was at the hospital, and when she wasn't, I was away. My parental issue was sucking up all my time anyway, and I was stressed as it was, trying to sort out my muddled summer schedule.

Then, the day got worse, as I spent 5th, 6th, and 7th there too. People weren't doing things, laying blame on others, claiming to be busy, telling us (the two hardest workers) that they'd show, but they never did...
All the work of the past 9+ months has been done by me and one other person, and while we try not to brag about it, it bugs us when we're on top of a deadline and no one does their job. The end of the year is a time for slacking off, yes, it's true, but not so much!

Then, when the student teacher (college student who teaches) called my 7th, she got ranted and raved at by my formerly nice sensei. *sigh* I have responsibilities, he says. I did show up to class YESTERDAY, relatively on time, and had a readmit for the day before and Friday (no school Monday) that I had missed. I just forgot to give it to him because he was filming.

So he stops by the class after 7th, ranting and raving some more, reminding me of how irresponsible I am, and how I must have chosen my priorities, and that I must be doing too much. Journalism had only been stressful for me at the beginning, when the newbies were too new, and no one did anything. It changed when I stopped staying after so late... but last night, I stayed till 8:30 (it was still light out). I was majorly stressed. Still am, seeing as I have to complete a final project in less than a day in order to bring up my grade. (By some miracle, sensei says it's a C, which means I might be able to bring it up to a C+ or B- if my final is ok) Well, I just had to rant about that, after going on and on about my silly dream.

What a messy life I live, huh? Aiya...
azurite: (kisara dragons)
Present Tense Note: This entry was originally split into 3 parts on FreeOpenDiary. But because of the wonder of lengthier entries and LJ-cuts, the entry will be presented in its entirety here.

What a corny subject line. )
azurite: (violet lips)
Hm. I'm a sophomore, soon to be a junior. (shudder. gotta love the way highschoolers are portrayed: freshmen are small shrimps, the underclassmen, who are "fresh" and easy... hence "Freshman Friday", Sophomore means "idiot", Junior means "small" and senior means "old") Maybe next year my lousy class (sorry, we are-- no spirit, and our idea of fun is writing bitch lists in the bathrooms) will have a Junior Prom, but my friend is posing the question: if someone asked me this week, would I go to prom?

The thing is, there's this guy who's been after me for a while. He's gotten beyond the point of being perverted and annoying, but lately, he's been hanging out with my friend and her "genius" gang (I'm a genius too, but I'm too engrossed with the internet to sit on the floor and eat my lunch). ^^; In any case, after a skating excursion over winter break, I'm pretty sure this guy fell for one of my friend's friends. Let's call her B. My friend is A.

So, the situation: Guy who used to like me seems to like A's friend, B. YAY! So he asks her to prom. Today, when I'm not here (boy, I picked a fine day to have a migraine-ish headache). Shucks. But I sorely hope she accepts.

Then, A IMs me, saying what she told B to do. "YES, of course!" Then she goes on to say that it is every teenage girl's *dream* to go to the prom, and who wouldn't go if asked by a senior?

I would, I say to her. What? she replies. I think that if I saw her face, it would be akin to one of those AIM smilies with the mouth hanging open. O_O --maybe like that.

In any case, since my 8th grade dinner dance, I haven't liked dances very much. I used to be (and I mean this seriously, no matter how dumb it sounds) head over heels in love with this guy I met when I was in 3rd grade. We were friends up to 5th grade, when he transferred after schools. I stopped going to after schools, and then my sister died. He was there for me, the only one there for me and me alone, during the funeral. But once middle school started, he decided popularity was more important than me. He became cold and uncaring, and I was, right back. Without my sister, that's what I let myself become. I suppose I still am, a bit, today, but that's another story.

He was at that dance, and pretty much teased or ignored me. Not fun. Loud music, expensive food, and everyone getting paired off with everyone else made me miserable. Dancing with my guy friend led me to shouting at one of my better girlfriends, something which I still regret to this day. I hate dances.

But prom? Yes, I suppose A has a point. How fun would it be to look back, and not have that prom picture, that prom candle, that prom gown? To say, oh yeah, *I* went to prom? I mean, it does have some significance. By I seriously doubt my appeal to any guy, and I doubt it will change even by the time I am 18, and able to go to senior prom with whoever *I* choose.

The one guy I let myself fall for after the first guy was a senior. I hated him, loved him, hated him, liked him, and then all over again. A said it was a "love-hate" relationship, except he had no clue about it until after he left. I think. In any case, I survived the year by biting my lip and praying that A's little "what if" might come true: maybe he'd ask me to the prom. Hah. Never happened. It can't happen this year; he's not a senior and neither am I. And even if, by some longshot, he does show up in my senior year (and I'm still single, which I most likely will be) I'd never be able to ask him to the prom. And he'd never ask me.
End of story, case closed.
azurite: (mars says let 'em burn)
It's a widely known misconception that to go to "boot camp" is to sign your soul away to a bunch of tall, crew cut guys with a mouth that would make your mama shame-faced. I just came back from "boot camp".
What, you say? You got sent to boot camp? Uhm, no, more like I volunteered. As anyone who's read my diary before, they know I'm in JROTC, also known as HSROTC. For the uninformed, the former stands for Junior Reserve Officer's Training Corps (or High School JROTC for the latter).

In any case, I hadn't gone last year, and all my friends came back ranting and raving that they had had so much fun. Mostly they went to dances, which I am so against, but I figured I'd have fun being my bitchy self at a place where power-tripping is the dress code standard. ^^;

So, I went this year. Unfortunately, there were some "cons" to going to this "boot camp". I'll start off my saying it wasn't really a boot camp, but that's what people think of it as. It's pretty similar, but I've heard stories from older classmates of mine who are really in the Reserves, so... this place is heaven in comparison.

Hehe.. in any case, you start the day by waking up at 4:30 AM. That's right, when it's still DARK. Mind you, this place is in Dublin, California. Unlike last year, when it was in some place near Anaheim. So the climates are very different, though I can easily say it rained in both places both years.

Dark, cold, wet. *shudder* I don't want to sound like a wimp, but I have asthma and am about as skinny as a pencil or thinner, so physical fitness isn't really up my alley. I can barely walk up three flights of stairs without heaving. I happen to have a high metabolism-- for me, that means eating in strange spurts, sometimes a lot, sometimes a little. I can burn the energy pretty fast, but I need to sleep ASAP or I faint. Exercising is only fun for me if I can pace myself. And that doesn't mean keeping PACE with everyone else. So trying to run with 70 people in the middle of the night when it's about 40 degrees outside is not my cup of tea. I figured that as a trainer, or someone who helped the cadets from the other schools learn about the place, I wouldn't have to do PT (physical training). BZZ! Wrong. It seems this year's brigade (citywide) staff was so disorganized, that the battalion (school) has power over everyone. This would be the one time I'd have a problem with that, because the teachers at my school for ROTC are, without a doubt, and with proof, sexist and uncaring towards medical problems. They don't care when people get hurt, have excuse notes from doctors or parents, or are about to pass out. I managed to get excused from PT every morning, but just barely, and not without escaping a yelling.

And that's just the beginning. After a half hour of PT, everyone returns to their barracks. I should state here that the male and female barracks are separated (duh) but, again, thanks to the wonderful lack of planning on the brigade staff's part, we weren't in the larger barracks. So many girls has to sleep on mattresses (and box springs... oww...) in a cold, dark room. The bathrooms are shared by the girls (all of them) and the brigade staff.

Now, normally, older teens can take care of themselves just fine, but these ones figured since there were 40+ girls in the lower barracks with them (the barracks are two stories) that they could get away with anything and everything. And that they did. They blamed us when a door in the bathroom showers broke, despite the fact that we are only allowed to use the bathrooms in the early morning and late afternoon. The door had been broken when no one was in the barracks. At least... not one of the girls!

Oh yes, and how fun it is to be sharing barracks with overblown egotistical guys, who reserve the bathrooms for themselves, even when girls have to use the toilet. The bathrooms, mind you, are separated: toilets, sinks, then showers. So anyone using the toilets wouldn't see anyone taking a shower.

And what's the big deal, anyway?! We've all taken Health Ed, and judging by their egos they wouldn't be very shy if someone DID walk in on them...!

I could keep on ranting... but the worst is yet to come. Now, brigade staff is made up of guys and girls from each of the six schools in the SFUSD. Mission, Lincoln, Wash, Bal, Gal, and Lowell. Our one representative was known as "Bubble Butt" to those who have a sense of humor. He wasn't mean or anything, but that year, I discovered that people in brigade forget that they have friends, significant others, integrity, or loyalty. They are a class and group in and of themselves. This "Bubble Butt" as he was, did not stay with the other boys from my school, but with Brigade. When his girlfriend got in trouble -for not being allowed to supervise over a cadet that had gotten injured- with another brigade member, who was,in fact, the brigade equivalent of her OWN position... he didn't stand up for her in the slightest. Despite the fact that JROTC and the brigade staff is supposed to be like the real army, and similar to the government itself, they follow one rule there: Guilty until proven Innocent. And we don't want to hear you defend yourself. They don't give anyone a chance to speak up in their own defense, yet blame them for everything. Oh yes, and they are TOTAL hypocrites. They say the girls at my school can't wear tank tops or short skirts, but they do it themselves. And they seem to hate our school, by singling us out for everything, including making us second to last for food. How horrible is it when you have to exercise at 4:30 in the morning, come back at 5:00, have a half hour to prepare, and then stand in line for an hour before you get your breakfast? And what's more, you're in line by rank, so the school with the most freshmen always gets to eat before us... and the same applies to our school, with a load of first year cadets. *sigh* At least I got to eat a bit longer. It wasn't the other people who had problems, it was really brigade.

This concludes my list of why I don't want to stay in RO, even if I *do* get a staff position. It isn't worth the stress... right?
azurite: (autumn kitty)
Okay, maybe not an accurate title, but for those of you with sharp eyes, you can see the embedded acronym: ROTC. Yes, the dreaded acronym for RESERVE OFFICER'S TRAINING CORPS. Okay, I take it back. Maybe not dreaded. It's just li'l ol' me, here where I am ^^; not liking RO for perfectly good reasons. I mean, some ROs are nice, they let people be themselves, and others make people go nuts. I seriously mean that. People have had mid-life crises when they're 16 or 17 and in ROTC. It demands quite a bit from you where I am, and I myself experienced a good deal of stress. While I only "bad-mouth" (and that is in quotes for a very good reason) RO to people I know would take it for the wrong reasons, and be as miserable as I was this year, I don't hate it. I encourage people to be in it if they are military-inclined, or think that they don't have enough credits to get into a cood UC or university with what they've got. Then again, most people enjoy their first year, and my outlook was the same as theirs: see if you enjoy it, get out if you don't. Problem is, you get sucked back in like a dust bunny into a vacuum. *schlup*

The top reason why *I* myself don't like it is because they told me to my face that I wouldn't get anywhere-- not in RO, not in life. Talk about a slap to your face. I mean, I appreciate people who are honest and straightforward to the point of being brutal, but I know that is really not true. I've maintained good grades, I have a positive (semi) outlook and personality, and a great GPA. I've gotten one or two Fs in MY LIFETIME, and as weird as it sounds, I'm proud of that. I hate to be busted down. I'm the kinda girl who goes around with a shirt proclaiming: Pluto or Bust! =)

So, no offense to any military personnel, JROTC people/cadets. I like RO to a point, just not MY RO. Sorry. =)
azurite: (screw it trashcan)
I'm sure I could come up with a million reasons why school sucks. I know some people don't like it just because of work. But I'm cool with homework and projects. In fact, I like most of my classes. I'm not in honors for nothing. I have a great record when it comes to statewide or standardized tests, and even better with creative projects and visual and performing arts. I blame it on my astrology sign: Aries. ^_^
In any case, I have a very brief list of why I hate school, and wish that, if I could, I would take it online. (And yes folks, that IS possible.)

#1: Dirty. Maybe it's just my school, because it's in the city, but who wants to go to a school where there's always the smell of urine, turpentine, paint, bug spray, and rotten food? Our school is also home to several cats, one of which was believed dead last week. I don't know if there's any truth to it, but still, who wants to smell a dead anything?

#2: The People.. So sue me. No one can get along with everyone, but the people at my school seem to go OUT of their way to make others miserable. Suffice it to say, I don't want to be in the same BUILDING as them for another two years.

#3: The Teachers. Note I didn't put Teachers under People. That's because Teachers are really a category of their own. Quite unique people, teachers. Very easy at brainwashing, yet they are the picture of zombies that bend themselves. Our school, as well as the district it is within, has some ridiculous rules about everything... from food, off-campus privileges to how you get to school. Many of the teachers are old, grumpy people, living back in the 1880s, and others are unable to handle the pressure of being high school teachers. Out of all 7 of my classes, I like 4 classes, and maybe out of the 4, really respect 2 teachers. Respect, as far as I am concerned, is earned. So many teachers at my school yell, call students horrid names, or bash their heads against lockers. Okay, that's just one of my teachers, and he's a certifiable loony. I'm thinking about reporting him, but what good will it do me?

On this, I have this one teacher who looks and acts like a wrinkled old prune. I really really really hate her. I knew from the beginning that her class was difficult, but the woman has to diverge from what the rest of the school is doing. She yells at people for not having good topic sentences, and when you show essays done in her class and given 'C+' to AP teachers, they think the essay deserved at *least* a B+. I think it's ridiculous, because there's no curriculum to any of it. I mean, some people go to school to deal, others to see their friends, get away from home, 'have fun', whatever. I go to learn, most of the time, and this teacher nixes that. She takes away my stuff (a notebook) that I write in, but doesn't yell at the students that fall asleep, never do work, or don't have the required materials. ARGH!!

#4: ROTC. For those of you who don't know what it is, it means Reserve Officer's Training Corps. *Shudder.* I'd direct you to the website, but it's a poor excuse for anything on the web, and lord knows I don't want any more poor souls getting dragged in. I have nothing against the military, just the particular HSROTC/JROTC program at my school. The teachers, really. But again, these teachers are in a category of their own. See, in ROTC, it counts as gym credit. That's why so many people got dragged/sucked/voluntarily (brainwashed) went in. Myself included. It's supposed to teach you U.S. History, patriotism, and of course, fulfill the gym requirement by doing a whole lot of excess 'exercising' in spring.

What it ends up doing is undermining your self-esteem, demanding too many things from you, expecting you to act a certain way, and then repeating the process when you don't. You HAVE to learn CPR, Map Reading, U.S. History, and of course, military drill. It's worse for the advanced students, who have to 'motivate' students, and get bitched at (REALLY!) if they don't. Don't let me forget the uniforms, either. My school is the only school in the district that makes us wear it once a week. Other schools wear it as little as once a month, or even once a semester! (Two times on ONE school year!) We have harsh grading policies on everything, and even a merit-demerit system for the slightest things.

You DON'T want to get the glare from either of our sexist teachers. Yes, sexist. There isn't a single school in the district that teaches the program who is female. Thusly, girls ALWAYS have to wear skirts, and can't have slacks even though they have plenty. In addition, they get harsh explanations of why girls can't join Flag Team (formerly Boys Drill Team, but last year, there were girls quote-unquote on the team). But we could join the Girl's Drill Team if we wanted to (even though it's OFFICIALLY the Exhibition Drill Team), except that it's very taxing, and both the commanders are downright selfish.

I think I've ranted and raved long enough, don't you? I'd definitely like some feedback people, especially from anyone in this universe who might be in ROTC. Well, I'm off to read more here and at Like anime? Check out my stories there under the name Azurite. Okay, peeps, I'm out! ^_^

Present Tense Note: Obviously, my opinions of ROTC changed over time, especially once I was out of the program. I doubt any entries I posted on FreeOpenDiary (where I''m pulling all these 2001 entries from) date forward enough to address the choice I had to make between ROTC and Journalism, and why the choice was actually tough. In retrospect, I really wish I *had* stuck with the program. But there are a lot of other things I've been through that have brought me to where I am, and I doubt the mindset I have now, accepting of the program and what it REALLY did for me and my development, could have been possible back then. The program most definitely had its weaknesses -and still does- but as it's being phased out, I see it as a moot point to further argue in its defense.
azurite: (kaiba's not taking the blame)
Lots of songs are out there dealing with dreams. Dreams are supposedly a peek into your subconscious, sometimes a mix of all the things that have been floating through your mind in any given day. I'll admit, I've had some weird dreams, but these, by far, are the weirdest:

5/?/2000 - I put two cheap costume rings (like the kind you get at supermarket gum ball machines) into a Sprite machine inside a soda room adjoining the school's basement and a classroom. The ring I remember seeing was gold-banded, with a sparkly orange heart as its charm. Suddenly, the late afternoon world went black and pulled away from me. The next thing I knew, I was back where I had started again, only the *time* felt different. I know people don't have a great sense of the passage of time, but I felt weird... like it was morning. Part of me insisted that it was almost evening, and that I should be hauling my butt home, but I was inexplicably drawn towards the classroom. Everything inside seemed much newer-- by several years. I saw the class getting dismissed, and who should I see but my crush-- at age 15! Everyone was leaving the class to head for the cafeteria for lunch, and he saw me and paused...

"Do we know each other?" He asked me with a perplexed expression on his face. I was suddenly as glum as a raincloud-- none of the seniors knew me, because they were freshmen! I was their age, but the REAL me was back at my middle school.

"I don't think so," I had responded, because with my obsession with time, I know that revealing parts of the future can damage it beyond repair. But instead of walking away, he asked if he could walk me to my 7th period. Weird, especially since I had been so sure 4th period had just ended!
I blushed a little and said yes. We got to talking, and he told me he liked the class he had just come from-- JROTC, which, for those who are uninformed is a mix between a history class and a military training type class. At the time, I had enjoyed that class as well, but NOW, as I write this entry, I will say I hate that class with a passion.

ANYWAY-- So he tells me he only wants to stay in RO for two years-- to get gym credits. I was off in my own little world, wondering how this cute, sweet guy could turn into the overbearing, egotistical, handsome young man I knew in the future. I told him, in so many words, that he'd make an excellent leader, and he should stay in.

We made it to my 7th period-- back then, it was an Art class with a teacher named Mr.Z. He asked me if I could meet him in the ROTC room after school-- he had cleanup duty, which meant (seeing as he was in the 4th period class, or the 3rd class of ROTC given in the day, he had to do cleanup on the 3rd day of the week) it was Wednesday, but it was too early in the year for uniforms... ?! (Uniforms are worn by the cadets every Wednesday) The art teacher was Mr. Martin, one of my favorite teachers that I remembered from when my sister used to bring me to the high school whenever I had off days and she didn't. He remembered me as well, but didn't understand how I looked 14/15 when my older sister (by 8 years) had just graduated last year (1995).
"It's a long story," I told him, and as he had a class to teach, he didn't say anymore.

In my time, I had told Mr.Z about Mr.M, and, Mr.Z had said the projects he had had weren't that creative. So I suggested some new ones to him, ones that he thought were great ideas.

After class, my crush met me, and smiled like a cute dope. Like... smitten, almost, a thought which made my heart flutter. (I love this dream so much) I helped him with cleanup. I don't know how much time passed, but he eventually asked me to the Boat Dance.

I freaked a bit, but accepted. I had no clue where I had spent the past several weeks, it seemed, and no one seemed to notice that I was wearing the same clothes day after day, and rarely went to any of my classes-- because they didn't exist yet! However, I was determined to look nice for the Dance, and went home.

Apparently, I couldn't be seen, because I THINK my past self was home. I got clothes from the closet that I hadn't bought yet-- making me remember the whole concept of time paradoxes-- when two or more times clash, the inevitable is the collapse of both times, past, present, and future. However, my seeing my past self had not had any effect on me at all. I saw my room in two ways-- that of my time, and that of my past. It was unnerving. I left and went to the dance, and I felt like a ghost of sorts.

The dance was enjoyable, I believe... as I remember this now, things are a little vague. I think he kissed me too. People were nauseous because the boat kept on swaying, but everyone had a good time. I was pulled back to my time, somehow, someway, and the last thing I remember is my crush's sad face.

I look back on the dream now, as something so typically me-- sappily romantic and humorous all at the same time. However, I wish I could "accidentally" dream a sequel, or maybe somehow... my crush would be reading this... maybe even know how I feel about him still. I wish I was his age now, because as far as I can see, that's really the only thing between us.

So, this is for you, J. <3

I'm dreaming... dreaming my life away...
azurite: (kaiba cry!?)
How would you feel if someone said about you: "I wish I had never met her"? Great, huh? Well, a guy I once liked, who I thought was a sort of friend, said that about me recently. He had been talking to one of my other friends, because he apparently refused to talk to me.

I had no idea why he was so mad at me; normally, we crack jokes about each other and then it's all said and done: I'm like his annoying little sister. A few times, we've not spoken to each other for what I think are the absolute dumbest reasons: he says I don't socialize enough, I don't get along well with HIS friends, and so forth. Any way you slice it, he finds something wrong with me most of the time.

So I would say in response, "Fine then, I don't need a 'friend' like that. Screw him." But I can't just up and forget people. I remember embarrassing events, old flames, evil enemies, and dear friends. So when it's been barely two years, and someone says he wishes he had never met me, it's a little hard to just forget. Or forgive and forget. I hate to be hated, the same way some people obsess about paying back debts.

I can stand having enemies who might say they hate me, but they might deserve it. I don't feel this way about this guy: I used to like him a lot (and my friend that spoke to him said that he had also liked me, but doesn't now... I feel horrible) and now he's sort of like a weird older brother. He'll be going to college soon, and I'd hate to have loose ends that would make him look back and hate me, or ignore me.
But I hate to be hated, and yet am too proud to do anything about it.

Present Tense Note: I have no idea who this entry is referring to!
azurite: (usagi sweater)
It's really a bunch of... well, suffice it to say, lies. Lies upon lies. People have a tendency to create their own little bubbles, worlds within the reality of our world, where everything is okay.

One of my friends has this thing with the world: everything is cute, everything is good. Small stuff, stupid stuff. She just can't be serious. It's not like she cracks inappropriate jokes when she's uncomfortable; it's more like everything is perfect. She is overly mushy, and yet, when she writes she evokes these emotions that are so hidden beneath her skin.

Normally, the way she acts is so annoying, but she's a dear friend to me. But she's way over the rainbow, a place sometimes I wish I could be.

People say I have a way too serious demeanor, and should "lighten up". I've been through so much crap that it's hard for me to do anything like that; my feet are firmly planted on the ground my relatives are buried 6 feet under in. I think I'm a sort of realist, but I escape my problems by writing away: here, and at my sites, for the stories. I like anime, it's a world away from any world, it's so artificial. My dad hates this fact, but it's my escape. Personally, my independence and humanity is shown no matter what I watch, no matter how immature it looks, because at least I'm not escaping the world using drugs or alcohol. But sometimes, over the rainbow just isn't enough.

I apologize if this entry made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow
Way Up High
There's A Land That I've Heard Of
Once In A Lullaby
Somewhere Over The Rainbow
Skies Are Blue
And The Dreams That You Dare To Dream Realy Do Come True

Someday I'll Wish Upon A Star
And Wake Up Where The Clouds Are Far Behind Me
Where Troubles Melt Like Lemondrops
Away Above The Chimneytops
That's Where You'll Find Me

Somewhere Over The Rainbow
Bluebirds Fly
Birds Fly Over The Rainbow
Why, The Oh Why... Can't I...?

Present Tense Note: Said friend and other people dating back to this time can probably guess who I'm referring to without much effort. Keep in mind that when I wrote this, I wasn't criticizing the person, just her views and my interpretation of them. That said, the friend in question has grown up A LOT and in many ways, and I still cherish her very dearly. My own attitude about the world is far less pessimistic than it was in high school.


Feb. 24th, 2001 09:40 pm
azurite: (kaiba smirk)
I was originally going to title this piece "Ultimate Frisbee" but I thought that'd give too much away. Then again, considering the unusual titles others have... maybe not. In any case, this is supposed to be a humorous break from my otherwise depressing/self-critical, and/or sappy entries.

Two Halloweens ago, there was a BBQ held for students of a certain class I was in JROTC. It happened that the oldest student in the class (it was a class for all grade levels) was the one I had been crushing on for... well, a long time. Since late August, when we had started school. Present Tense Note: in case you haven't picked it up from my previous entries -regardless of their actual posting date- the guy in question is Jason Cunningham, affectionately nicknamed "Juicy Cantaloupe" by myself and [ profile] cutieme4u.)

So it's in a park nearby, it's a beautiful sunny day. The guys are at one table, the girls at another. It's just the way it works, I guess. Everyone was competing to make the most hamburgers. Later, when we all got bored, but didn't want to leave, I started a game of Frisbee. A few people got playing.

Wait-- before you even THINK that I hit my crush with a Frisbee, I will tell you you're wrong. A little to the left. Yeah, I hit his best friend. On the butt. This guy just happened to be in charge of ALL of the programs in the district (Brigade Commander, natch. Not a guy to mess with). Plus he scared the living snot out of me. He still does, when he visits for absolutely no reason at all.

Dear god, the humiliation. I was talking about this to one of my friends today, and she cracked up. I had started inspecting a BBQ midway through my horrible throw. I happened to look at the precise *wrong* moment, and I was caught. Of course, Bullseye (the target whom was hit) glared at me in his menacing way.

Let me defend myself now by saying I deserved what humiliation I got-- I had bragged that I was an expert Frisbee thrower. Bragging = bad. But, I blame it all on the Frisbee, I brought it with the intention of "accidentally" throwing it away. It was chewed horribly on one end by my dog (his first and only chew toy) and was a hideous neon green. My crush decides to pick up the cruddy thing and not only criticizes it (I could care less) but me and my bad throwing. I was turning as green as the damned Frisbee.

What was worse, I couldn't even LOOK at Bullseye-- er, I'll call him Al. I kept seeing a neon flashing (red and white) target on his butt.

Think Ally McBeal, every time she sees someone, she reacts in a very vivid way with her imagination. i.e.: stripping someone's clothes off with invisible strings when she sees a hot guy. Yeah, and because my crush had "stood" up for Al, I started getting mad at him (a "love/hate" relationship, as [ profile] cutieme4u calls it) and was grumbling how much of a gay-ass he was. (I mean no phobia/insult by that)

Then my friend who I had told about this today cracked up even harder, imagining Al and my crush:

"Did you just touch my butt?"
"No, sir, I grabbed it."

Insulted, but laughing... yeah, I took it all in good stride and remember it humorously.
But I threw away that Frisbee the first chance I got.
azurite: (isis midol)
Yes, you either love it or you hate it. It's Valentine's Day. Unlike Mother's Day, it wasn't created by Hallmark, and they don't over-publicize it quite as much as chocolate companies or sleazy "Hard Copy" style shows do. There are two distant origins: one is that it falls around the same time as a Pagan fertility festival. Erm, not quite. Imbolc, the name of the festival, falls on February 1st. Not 14th. Oops. Okay, so there's the OTHER one that we all know, right? During some fantastic war, Caesar prevented all his soldiers from marrying, as he thought that would prevent them from fighting well or some other such weirdness. So a priest by the name of Valentine married the couples in secret. However, Caesar found out and killed the man, forever making the man a martyr of love and a Saint in his name.

Okay, so that's what we know. All well and good, but how did card and chocolate-giving get started? Why isn't some ritualistic day to get married? But no, people get married in JUNE, not in February. While I have nothing against people celebrating their love, some people overdo it. I saw on one particular tv show about how to give the perfect gift. How some guys were inept with the whole Valentine's scene, and others were suaver than soap. While 61% of guys may want flowers from their girls (*cough* yeah right!), only 40% get them, and girls always get the same old: balloons, chocolate, candy of any red, fruity sort, roses, teddy bears. It's all about pink, red, cute, and usually either shiny or fuzzy. Or, in the case of older people, big, gold, and expensive-looking.

Maybe I hate it so much because I used to go through so much trouble making (from scratch) V-day cards, personalizing them and all, and then not getting a single one even close to what I had done back, not even from my friends. Of the people whose few scattered Valentines I still have, they scrawled their name on back so messily that I can barely make it out. Nothing personal at all. So, in 5th grade, I pretty much stopped doing the Valentine thing. Last year, I guy who I barely knew gave me some chocolates with a scrap of paper saying he liked my personality. I was flattered beyond belief, but I was drooling after a senior. I was blind to what was in front of me, and could have made a closer friend as opposed to ignoring it. Of course, I thanked him graciously on a cute pink note, and we're in a class together again. Part of me wonders if he still likes me.

But I just refuse to acknowledge that I am alone yet again one year, and V-day just makes me remember that even more painfully. All my friends are paired off, guys who are usually the obnoxious geeks now have girlfriends, and even the not-so-desperate, semi-guy-hating ones are getting Love Pops and teddy bears from one person or another. Perhaps it's that cycle of destruction deal again, with me segregating myself and never giving anyone the chance to love me. Or maybe I am just unloved.
I wore all black yesterday, and I'm proud of it.
azurite: (harry & draco sound fx)
Okay, so I'm not exactly COOL and CONFIDENT 100% of the time. Lord knows I'm right fidgety 50%, and a blur of emotions the rest. So today, I have this interview. It's for this summer program I got nominated for, and in order to be a candidate, I had to write an essay, revise it, find out stuff about my family's income. Blah. Blah. Blah. So I have this lovely little slip that tells me when and where my 'view is, at 12:00, during lunch. I leave my 4th class early to get to lunch, and then the interview. It turns out the interview with the previous person will last 20 minutes. Straight into my 5th class, which I love. Oh well.

Miss-Confident-Me gets nervous as time ticks away. Finally, about 15 minutes before the 6th class, which is a pain in the @$$ for me, and pretty mandatory about attendance, the last person comes out. I wait a few seconds, then knock. A muffled voice says something that sounds like "Wait A Sec" but I feel like I've been out there a millennium and start reading this poster and tapping on the wall. A few seconds later Ms. Hoity-Toity herself comes out from the room, obviously annoyed. She tells me to stop knocking after she told me to wait, and I try to apologize, I didn't know I was knocking my fingers on the door... but does she listen? NOO... storms back in her little office and makes me wait. I come back in a few minutes later, and she starts off with this cool demeanor.

So I give it right back to her, naturally. She asks some pretty general questions, just like I expected, but seeing one of my friends come from this meeting crying wasn't doing anything for my confidence. I started to pull on my fingers. She started to get annoyed with me, and it struck me that this woman was reminding me of that lady from Suddenly Susan-- whoever Susan's antagonist was, the blonde-haired woman who she always seemed to hate, who Luis was in love with? Whatever.

So anyway, she started to say I wasn't being detailed enough, that, while I was obviously intelligent, I was giving the info to her "like a ham sandwich." I ended almost every statement with a "Well, yeah." or a "You know..." I thought I sounded like a Valley Girl. And I'm from "Up North". But apparently, I made some big step, according to the same woman later.

I found out that my interviewer was the Exec Director of the program. The other woman in the room was a possible staff member, and the last lady who came in at the end was the founder of the program. Yet this didn't feel like girl talk. So eventually, I discover *SHOCK* I've made it in. Being a third person now, I hear how I made this big leap by being more emotional. The interviewer pestered me about my "status" socially, how I wasn't very popular, but, she pointed out, I was on some "cycle of destruction" because I boxed myself away from others, but ended up regretting it. It sort of overwhelmed me at the end how nice they were acting, after this woman had just peeled me apart like an onion. She was looking HAPPY that I had cried, and I still didn't know why I did. I tell you, interviewers, when they say they want to get into your shoes and find out what it is to be you... damn, they mean it.

Present Tense Note: I'm thinking the "program" in question may have been Digital Horizon or the Beacon/Richmond Review newspaper thing I did. I'm not really sure which, though. Damn, why did I have to be so vague back in high school?
azurite: (blue flower)
I met someone at my after school when I was quote-unquote little. I don't actually put that in quotes, because you could read it as being physically little, which I still am, or little, as in, small, young, immature... which is what I meant. Anywho, he was nice. An outcast like me, for some of the same, and for different reasons. I had other friends, of course, I had crushes, but he was really nice to me. REALLY nice. He bought me presents of quarts, jewelry boxes made out of glass and gold, roses... he spoiled me rotten, and told me he loved me. I didn't know what to think-- I suppose I was young, naive, and inexperienced. Then again, so was he. He was younger than I. Yet he claimed he had "experience". I never believed him about that, though. Up to 5th grade, even after we both left the after school and only saw each other when we arranged it to be so, we were friends.

But that summer, in 1996, my sister died in a tragic accident. I call that the "Year of Hell" because after that one day in summer, my life changed. I never expected to hear that my older sister was dead. Broken legs, maybe even handicapped for a while, but never dead. She was my role model, and I always thought she was more responsible than that. Throughout the whole funeral ordeal, he was the only one there for me. No one thought to call my friends; I didn't have the strength to. I had to be my mother's support, and I slowly grew into thinking that was all I was worth. I wasn't a daughter at all. I blamed myself, of course, almost all siblings involved in tragedies do, but no one ever took the immense pain of it all off my shoulders. I sort of shrunk into a shell, and turned into someone different. Probably someone that would have scared me if I had seen how I'd become.

Middle school started, and I was overjoyed that he was attending the same one as I. I met lots of new people, got involved in lots of problems and work, and slowly drifted away from him. Maybe it was more because of how I had changed, and he sensed it before I did. 7th grade: he ignored me, made new friends, even went to lengths to make me feel horrible my teasing me. But my new friends helped me through. Then, I finally got fed up, asked one of my friends to ask him how he really felt, in private. She returned 15 minutes later, a grim look on her face. Her eyes could have spoekn volumes, but I had hope. Hah. No such thing, not anymore. She related to me that he hated me, thought I was annoying, and stupid, and ugly... the words sounded like something a kindergartener would say, but then...

8th grade came and went, and with it, he did. He moved, and though I had talked to his mother, a friend of my family's, after the ceremony, and seen him as well, nowhere near his horribly influencing friends, I was afraid, and too hurt to do what I wish I HAD done:

Walk up to him without fear, pull him into my arms, and hug him for all he was worth. Tell him softly that I would miss him more than I could say, and no matter how he felt about me, he'd always have a place in my heart, my home, my life. I never saw him again. I don't even know if he still lives where I heard he moved to. I never had an address, and part of me wonders if I still care. I mean, despite the immaturity of our relationship, when I told people about it, they considered him my boyfriend. So, in high school, I had had an ex-boyfriend, one who had broken it of with me rather harshly, and it still hurt. So that was why I didn't understand how I could have fallen in love (supposedly) so easily with someone else, so unlike him, so different from any other guy I seemed to know. Now he's gone too, and I wonder if I really ever loved either of them, or one more. More often, I wonder, did what we had count? To him? For something more than some youthful stupidity? To me, or my future? I don't know. Maybe I never will.
azurite: (aries)
Oh I'm so creative with my titles, huh? *laughs* Oh well, I suppose when I write so freelance, I'm not as "stingy" (with my titles, etc). I write stories in most of my free time, fanfics for animes and tv shows, to be exact. Lord knows it isn't some arcane thing that only weirdos know about. It's too lengthy to explain-- it isn't really the topic of this entry anyway.

The deal is, last year, when I was a freshman, I fell -slowly, sort of like how molasses drips down an... anything-- for this guy. Not just any guy, unfortunately, it had to be a tall (I'm short), mixed (I'm white, and it sucks most of the time), senior. (Needless to say, he was not interested) Oh wait, I take that back. For the better half of the year, we usually acted like rivals. I took whatever shots I could to piss him off, and he did the same to me. After a while, I came to expect it, like the kind of thing you get from an older brother. I should mention here that I don't have any siblings. I mean I used to, but she (my older sis) died when she was 19 in a hiking accident. I don't mind taking about her, or how it happened, but if anyone pesters me, I rip their esophagus out with a smile on my face.

BACK to the guy issue. So he was like the sibling I no longer had. Despite my constantly bitching at hinm (suffice it so say; hell, I'm an Aries) I respected him, and, like all "doomed" relationships, I had to let it go further. I started to admire him for traits that other people hated. I started to appreciate his mannerisms, no matter how crude (or egotistical). I started to fall in love with him, and me, after just coming out of what I call a "relationship" but may not truly have been so (another diary entry, my friends) thought the part of my conscience that was bouncing off the wall over this face-was crazy. Yeah. Now he's gone, and I can't stop thinking about him, despite the fact that I haven't seen/heard or anything about him since June of 2000. I don't want to believe that I was actually -and possibly still am- in love with him, but I don't know what love really is. I consider myself too young and I haven't "played the field" enough to discover what love is. But... I'm stuck on him.
azurite: (anzu's problems)
Note: these entries are being reposted from what used to be my FreeOpenDiary, where my username was *azurite*. I preserved the entries before I left FOD for LiveJournal, but back then I was much vaguer about references to people in my real life; as a result, I can't always provide background info on these posts. Some of these things I don't even remember! The majority of these entries were written in my sophomore year of high school.

It bites not being able to trust someone you THOUGHT was your friend.

The scenario? Picture this: a guy is crushing on you. Whoopee. If you're not into the whole "boyfriend" "Valentine's Day" scene, then this is not good news. What makes it worse is that a) he's about 2 years older than you. Okay, no major diff, but it feels funny. Some people get along with people tens of years older than them. Others, the opposite. And still more-- just don't. They either seclude themselves completely, or just stick with people in the year above or below them. Give or take a few months, maybe. Oh yes, b) is the fact that before you even KNEW the guy, he had a rep. It's prejudice to let someone's rep fool you, but when they live UP to their rep, what are you supposed to do? This guy was a total pervert, and I was getting reports from all my friends. Friends who didn't know the other friends, friends who didn't give a damn, or people I just talked to by accident. "Stay away from him, he's a pig." I heard. Oh well, I'm wishing I had heeded their advice now. So this pig is crushing on me, flattering yes, but distracting. I have plenty of guy friends, and I'm usually never uncomfortable with them. But once I hear that one of them is crushing on me... well, it's BAD. This guy was never my friend, per se, but...

Ok, so my friends now know that this guy is into me, and I'm NOT. Months, and months pass by. I give the "crushee" hints, ranging from subtle to blantantly, smack-you-in-the-face obvious. He's obviously as thick as a pole, because he never got the hints. So a week or so back, one of my guy "friends" decides to drop in in my Bio class. I should note that this "friend" of mine, we'll call him Joe, had been (and still is) crushing on one of my other best buds-- Jane. Jane's in my Bio class too, and that's why he drops by sometimes-- to see her. At the time, she had told him off several times: he pursued her, she wasn't interested or had her eyes on someone else. He didn't get it. What was more, he was highly overprotective, a liar and show-off, an @$$ kisser to the teachers, and worse, a blabbermouth. That was the problem. Blabbermouths are usually eavesdroppers too. I was talking to Jane about my problem with the guy crushing on me, and Joe interrupts, saying he'll talk to him for me. I immediately decline the offer- I think of how it would feel to have someone say to me "Oh, he hates you," instead of from his face. It's more cowardly on the person's part, too. I was really thinking of the other guy's feelings when I denied Joe's offer, and explained to him why. He looked like he understood, but... apparently not, because when I IMed the guy crushing on me, he told me what "Joe had told him" and totally guilt tripped me. He forgave me, and all was well on that end, thank god. BUT. BUT Joe was playing games with me. Not only had he betrayed my trust, lied to me, and then some, but while I was talking to the "crushee" I was also talking to Jane-- and someone else I didn't know, but, after Jane identified the SN, I found out was Joe. For the past half hour, he had been playing guessing games with me, denying my correct guesses... all in all, getting me very pissed.

I ignored him for a while, but it only seemed to make him angrier. Jane totally understood my position, and I believe she started ignoring him too, throwing Joe into a typical fit of rage and depression. Not a fun guy to be around. As of late, I've been wondering why I was ever friends with someone like Joe in the first place. Maybe I'm out of bounds here, but I don't want to speak to him until he apologizes.

January 2016

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