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[Mar. 18th, 2007|08:44 pm] |
synthesizing and analyzing. two things which i absolutly cannot do in regards to when i write. in my mind, yes, but when i write, it's much more of a chore. i've been finding more and more random people's livejournals, and they're all so poorly written; unfortunately mine is the same. i find it all mundane and trite. posts are either happy or sad, but the true bloggers are something else. i guess experience comes from practice.
i have been obsessed with finding the perfect college for me. i want to go someplace that has an urban location, and a gothic (in archetecture) look. it's very sad, because mainly the one thing i look for in a college is how it looks on the outside. fittingly enough, that's how i've always looked at people. if someone is dressed nicely, or has nice hair they must have at least a little substance. it's horrible, but i always judge people on appearance. i judge the book by the cover. but what's really horrible for me is that with books i'm usually right. with people i'm never wrong.
i went to a verona football game with a friend who goes there one time. i sat there and verbilzed each of their personalities and why they were on the squad. with each girl i became a little more assured. and i didn't get a single one wrong. mind you, these were girls whom i had never seen in my life.
today i went to church. funny, because i don't believe in god. rather, i've never seen any existance of him. so i went to church, then went to seven eleven, and then back to church for living stations of the cross rehersal, where i am pontious pilate: the guy who condems jesus to death. that guy gets a really bad rap, he was just doing his job! oh well, i guess it suited the entire christian population; without him, no religion. some people look at mountains and see god. i see a glacier that moved tons of dirt into a glorified hill.
i wish i could tell my parents that i could find a more constructive way of using my time than going to church. it would kill them. i'm their last resort, my brother will eventually go back to the church, but my sister never will. my mother nearly had a heart attack when she refused to go to church anymore. i think the problem is that catholic beliefes have been shoved down our throats since, literally, we've been born. it's kind of like if you are the oldest of 10 children and your whole life all you've done is live in a noisy chaotic house, natrually you would want to spend the rest of your days in a quiet home, by yourself. that's what i want to do: leave and never come back.
i hate people that bitch about caldwell.
that's all i have to say. |
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| i am the biggest follower i know |
[Mar. 10th, 2007|05:23 pm] |
i'm making a livejournal. because everyone else is, and that is the only real reason i can come up with. i had a xanga freshman year, but come on, xanga?
well i guess the biggest change in my life has been that i am finally doing well in school. not that i didn't before, but i was truely under the dilusion that freshman year didn't count. sophmore year was a bust thanks to none other than the devil incarnate, joann dinonno. sometimes i look back and just wonder what the hell went on that made that class so horribly unbearable. and truth be told, i can't remember. it all just blurs into a single horrible blocked out memory, but that is all in the past. the funny thing is, she won't look at me in the hallway, she won't even say hello. maybe she's dreaming of overstock.com, or when she'll be okay enough to have a real husband.
last night was fine. run of the mill friday night, i went to see 300 with bayan. i asked him if he wanted to get something to eat before the movie but he had already eaten dinner, completely accpetable. however, seconds after the question and answer i was met with a responce in the background "you're not his chauffeur!" i wasn't exactly sure where this came from but it made me really mad. it made me mad because i make an effort not to treat any of my friends, especially him, as a chauffeur. ever.
my parents have been acting strangely as well. my dad is up for his annual promotion in april, making every march a living hell. i told him i was going out, and he was like "well you better be home by 11:30". like i've ever had a curfue in my life ever. i asked him why, very calmly, and very sanely, and he throws back at me "BECAUSE THAT IS A REASONABLE TIME TO GET HOME". i should have said it. i should have asked him if i had ever given him a cause to distrust me. if he thought that i was going to go out and drink and smoke, like i've ever drank or smoke ever in my life. i don't even get it. so that was my strange evening.
tonight my dad wants me to go to a bar with him in westchester to see his co-workers band. i would rather shoot myself in the face, but no other option has arisen, so i'm probably going to have to go with him. he's trying to be nice to me since last night, when i did not get home at 11:30 but 10:30 and promptly went to bed at 2 am. just to piss him off. today he's been trying to be nice to me. he bought me ring dings, offered for me to drive his car, and then asked me if i still wanted to go with him to the bar, which i replied no to, except the bar.
my mom went down the shore today to babysit my little cousins. mother of god do i hate babies. i say it all the time, so i know it must be trite, but i really do. they have no redeeming qualities, the eat, poop, cry, sleep, and offer no help to anything. that is one thing i could never do: parent. i need independence. financially, living wise, school wise. i just can't stand to live my life co-dependently. this is why i don't think i would ever want to get married, but you never know, feelings change. |
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gnomekiller90's journal