Everyone else seems to be putting song lyrics in their subject lines, so I decided to join the fun. Except that my favorite part of "Bittersweet Symphony" by the Verve is the little violinny part. Just start doo-doo-ing to yourself as you read the subject line - I swear, that's what it is.

So anyways, yeah.

Mr. Davis is pretty much my hero [almost.]

He is more than willing to help me find an alternative to the absolutely craptacular honors early day english class I'm in.

*score*

I wonder if any of my SGH band people are doing anything after le' football game. It would be very very nice to hang out with them for a while. Maybe my OHS band people or OHS JROTC people are doing something. Hmmm.

In whichever case, I need to hit an ATM. And seeing as how the game starts in 15 minutes - I should probably do that now or very soon to now.

Here is my lovely class bling. It costs entirely too much money. I'm probably going to wind up losing it or thinking that it wasn't worth the bother. But oh well.



photo from vermillion

It's official.

We be cancelled, baby!

Yeah, that's right. Rutherford Freakin' County. Closed. And actually posted it the night before.

Skeptical?

Click here and you'll be a believer too.

Guess I won't see any of you at school tomorrow. ^_^

Don't get eaten by a tornado.

I think it's unanimous. Grace Langeland's 17th birthday party was pretty much the coolest thing EVAR!!!

Prom dresses. Old Spaghetti Factory. Laser Tag [in prom dresses].

Oh yeah, coolest thing EVAR.

---

"I'm experiencing technical difficulties. . . I forgot my makeup so my look is going to be a little au-natural."

*realizes she also forgot the formal strapless bra to fill out her dress*

"Umm. Looks like it's going to be just a tad more au-natural than I thought."

---

"I'll only sing it if you can tell me who wrote it."

"Hmm. Could it be... ELTON JOHN?"

*Ewan McGregor look-a-like waiter panics*

---

"I will not run, climb or jump. . . I will not sit, kneel, or lie down."

*all laser taggers repeat*

"I will play smart, play fair, and give it my all."

*all laser taggers repeat*

"I will not step on my opponent's dress."

*all laser taggers repeat*

---

Yeah, I'm so burying you under the corn.

I don't know when or where, but at some point... a large critter was crawling on my car. It was probably the last time I had my car at my mom's house overnight or something. Hell, I didn't even notice until my windshield started fogging up.

On my way home from the football game--

[OHS got butt-raped by Lincoln Co. --I mean FRANKLIN. As Becky was kind enough to point out. :-p-- But that's okay. We'll kick the trash out of SIEGEL next week. Once again, I don't know if I spelled it right.]

--my windshield was fogging up because it was raining and I have no air conditioner and the water condenses and criznap and yeah.

When I parked behind my condo and had the sidewalk lamp shining through the fog on my windshield, I noticed handprints all over the driver's side windshield. I thought to myself, "Who put their hands all over the windshield? I know it wasn't me."

Then I realized that the palms were really small. And the fingers were really long. And had claws. And definately didn't belong to people. And I kinda freaked.

Don't know why, but I did. I was seriously wiggin' out. I mean, it's not like the raccoon or possum or whatever walked on my windshield was in my car and trying to eat me or anything. But I still wigged out.

Hmm.

That is possibly the most boring story I have ever told.

Hope you liked it.

Holy criznap, you guys. My Dad might actually spring for the spiznensive one.



Check it. *eyes bug out*

Here's the one I'm more likely to be getting [in various colors... I can't decide which one I want!] Unfortunately, the Jostens website is kinda weird about the top pictures... it won't put down my school name or show the top view of either of my sides. *shrug*

Does anyone else think that term should have more than one meaning?

Anyways. My homework load took a slight upswing. *boohiss* Ah well. So is life.

I missed ED this morning. I woke up at the time I normally leave the house, so I said to myself, "Oh well, you're going to be late no matter what. No use rushing." So I got to school late enough that the attendance office told me not to bother going to the last 15 minutes of class.

Wehoo!

Why does your brain do that? Or my brain, anyways? [The waking up thing.] I mean, when left to my own devices on a school day that is a bank holiday or something - I will still wake up at almost exactly the same time I'm used to waking up to go to school. Now, I often times roll over and go back to sleep - but I always just snap awake right at that time. And if I sleep through my alarm or fall asleep after my alarm has been turned off, I will undoubtedly wake up at the exact time I'm supposed to leave.

Crazy.

Anyways - work was work. Pretty boring. At least I got to work with Megan all afternoon. Learned how to set up a screen. Yay!

For dinner: went to McAllister's, placed a to-go order, flirted with the really pretty college guy running the register, came home, and am now enjoying a great turkey sandwich. MMM.

Argh. It's 9 and I still need to do some homework. Ciao, lovlies!

I just wanted to be home by myself all day.

I wanted to chill out, take a short nap [got those done no problem], do some laundry, do my homework, maby work out or clean my room.

I just wanted to do it without being told to.

I wanted to do it when nobody else was around so I wouldn't feel like I had to prove that I'm responsible.

So of course, right after I change clothes to get started working, and right before I start sorting laundry - my dad waltzes in.

"blahblahblah"-something stupid about JROTC that I don't really give a damn about and I can't for the life of me figure out why he thinks I would.

Come on, Dad... don't say it...

"blahdy-freakin'-dah"

It's bad enough that you came home while I was still here... Please don't say it...

"How much homework do you have?"

DAMMIT!

Is it that hard?

And is it so wrong that I would FOR ONCE like to do something responsible without being told to do it first?

Jeezy creezy... I know he's just trying to be a good parent and make sure I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. But believe it or not, I'm a lot more motivated to do something when I don't have someone hounding me all the time.

I seriously can't do the homework. Not right now, anyways.

I think I'll throw in a load of clothes [I really really need them] and head out to Cat's or Digital Planet. I want to get a new CD. I might as well take my time browsing.

Seriously, what's going on? Why does all this motherglahdfoiafjoknd crap keep happening to me? And why can't I just suck it up and get over it?

WHY AM I BROODING?

TELL ME WHY!!!

As of right now: I quit driving. Forever. I'm tired of almost-dying on a daily basis.

Okay, I don't mean it. Even if it means I'm probably going to die sometime in the next week or so.

What can I say? I'm a hazard to myself and society.

[[edit]]

I appear to have miscommunicated. It is pretty much life in all it's generalness that I'm fed up with, not just driving.

Driving just happened to be the most immediate thing to have pissed me off / almost killed me.

Then I saw the spider. [see below.]

[[un-edit]]

I killed a brown recluse that was dangling from my cieling [near the wall].

I think he [or she] was trying to get behind my dresser to set up fort.

*twitch*

It has begun.

The school year that will kick my ass.

[Well, the first one to kick my ass, anyways.]

To be perfectly honest, I'm terrified of the upcoming year.

Anyone else afraid of roller coasters? Well, have you ever finally psyched yourself up to ride a huge coaster that you'd normally be too scared to go on?

If you have then you'll know the feeling of how badly you want to prove yourself when you sit down and strap in and the ride starts. As the ride cranks up that first big slope, you start doubting yourself with every chink of the chain. Then you're at the top; you ease over. At the split second between easing over and plummetting down at light-speed you have the perfect view of what you've gotten yourself into:

And it just may be the most terrifying thing you've ever seen in your life.

Once you're past that split second, it's too late. You're free falling and then you're roaring around the track that has been laid out for you. You scream and cry and you're terrified. But before you know it, you come to a sudden stop. You're eased back to the loading dock. You're released until it's time for you to board the next thrill ride.

Just like that, the year's over.

You walk away thinking to yourself, "Well, that wasn't so bad."

Just keep telling yourself that until you once again find yourself looking straight down into your own academic oblivion.

. . . . ?

Ever get the impression that I take school to seriously?

Your Daddy Is Darth Vader

What You Call Him: Big Daddy
Why You Love Him: He takes you to Disneyland
Who's Your Daddy?




You are







What Rejected Crayon Are You?



Those quizzes courtesy of Stephen.

Holy crap. *wipes tear*

I might actually get my summer homework done by the due dates...

Pre-Cal is a lot easier when your Dad has two master's degrees in math.

I finished Gatsby today. I was sad, but not displeased, with the ending. I'm assuming that the way my English teacher answered the questions about summer reading on thursday, he won't demand the papers first thing monday morning.

So I should have plenty of time to read Raisin and write the dinky little reports for both books.

WOOHOOO!

I stole this quizzy thingy from trademarkofdoom.




You Are Mashed Potatoes




Oridnary, comforting, and more than a little predictable
You're the glue that holds everyone together.


What Part of Thanksgiving Are You?


Oh yeah. Got my schedule fixed! Didn't even have to sign a single form. Apparently if you're a reasonably good student, the administrators are just like, "Yeah, okay."

WOOHOOO!

Teacher's aide fourth period for Col. Rector.

APUSH 6th Period with Mr. Huffman a.k.a. "Huff-daddy."

Now I need to go get lunch. Far East! WHEE!

Back-to-school dreams are really just nightmares concealed behind a seemingly-friendly mask.

For example, I had a dream this morning, right before my alarm woke me up for the first day of the new school year. This dream consisted of pretty much EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE of my concerns about the upcoming year in JROTC.

I mean, it addressed my fears about not being tough enough, fears about making bigger mistakes as I take on more responsibility, fear of awkward situations, and general disgruntlement about a particular person knowing how I feel about him and him not caring one single tiny smidge.

I have too much dignity to lose by posting the whole thing on the internet, but if you want to know more about the dream [especially the part that involves me saying "You smell... umm... very nice."] then feel free to either email me, message me, IM me, call me, get in touch with me, or whatever and I'll totally tell you the whole story. ^_^

So, as for my new schedule: 4th Period STANDARD US History... prepare to DIE.

Those guidance counselors better be in a cooperative mood... otherwise I'ma gonna be openin' a can-o-whoop-ass on their big ol' guiding and counseling bootys.

[I chose to spell the plural of "booty" in a grammatically incorrect fashion. Thank you.]

Shirts that you print and hide in your car while the boss is out are the best shirts. ^_^

Dr. and Mrs. Singletary have been telling me , "Wow, you're doing an amazing job with the cleaning."

"Oh, well, my last job was cleaning my grandparents' house for them."

"Really?"

For those of you following along at home, this is what we call a MISTAKE.

Now they want to schedule me for days where I'm just cleaning. Today, all I did was clean.

Holy friggin' crap. I. Hate. Cleaning.

SO MUCH.

There was one advantage... got to see Brian flail around like a guy who's slipping on a floor covered with orange cleaner. Exactly like that, as a matter of fact.

School starts tomorrow.

. . . .

Can you tell how much trouble I'm having containing my excitement?

Whoo. *finger twirl*

I'm the only one who can work tomorrow. That means I get to leart how to print! Yay.

Alright, fine. Job first. My interview was not so much the,

"Well tell me a little about yourself, Sarah. What will make you an asset to my company?"

and more the

"Thanks for coming out today, Sarah. Okay, what I want you to do today is blahblahblah... Christi can show you how."

*Mrs. Singletary leaves*

"Soooo, Christi. Think I got the job?"

"Uhhh... YEAH."

So I am employed. $6 an hour. Screen printing. Cleaning. Babysitting. Hanging out with a ton of good friends. It's all gravy, baby.

Now... Mark says WHAT? He's positively mad, I tell you. Mark [Raider Team CO, my company CO, and the object of my obsession hormonal desire] is setting up a rope bridge for the cadet freshies to play on tomorrow. At the AAR [After Action Review] today, Colonel asked if he wanted anyone specific to be assigned to him.

At first, it made sense. All very active Raiders. All people who had been on the team for years.

Jake Durant, Joseph Barron, and Amber Burgess.

He needed another girl to help the fresh-women to put their swiss seats on. Kristin Michaels [who is one of those hardcore Raider for two years people] volunteered to do it.

Oh, but no.

He says, "Aaaaaand... Vermillion."

*blink blink*

Mark says WHAT?

"Uhhh, honey? I don't know how to do anything with a rope bridge, I'm not on Raiders, remember."

"Then we'll have to teach you, won't we?"

*blink blink*

I don't know a swiss seat from the swiss alps. I am the ONLY person assigned to run the rope bridge tomorrow that is NOT a Raider.

PURE INSANITY, I tell you.

Now, I know what all my friends who want to keep my spirits up are thinking, "Aww, it's just because he likes you and he wants to see what you look like tied up."

But I know better... I know it's one of the following things: a. he's making a last ditch effort to recruit me for Raiders [has been trying for two years - not happening, I am the anti-raider] or b. he is trying to punish me for harassing him and giving him hell all week.

. . . or c. being outdoors all day having to listen to retarted freshmen has rotted the three brain cells he has left and he has gone truly mad.

That's right bitches. ^_^

Sarah's getting employed. Not like most of you aren't already employed or anything, just that... you know. Nobody actually thought I would ever get a job. [Honestly, I didn't either.]

Well, technically I don't have the job yet.

I have an interview at Action Designs tomorrow at 3 PM. I'm going to be beat as all hell and gone, so I'm hoping that Ms. Patty isn't all like "I hate you. Go away. No job for you."

But I've heard she interviews pretty easy. So I should be able to get the job and probably get straight to work right afterwords.


If I get a job there I will get to work with people like the wonderful Megan, Leah, Becky, and Brian. Neato burrito, huh?

SCIZZORE!

I win.

Soooo. Shopping. Not as bad as I thought. Unlike me, my aunt is not ashamed or embarassed or hesitant about anything. She kept saying "What about this? What about that stuff on the walls? We'll get someone to get it down for you."

I hate making the people get stuff off the walls.

But it totally paid off.

And the guy at Pac Sun who got stuff down for me and got me my dressing room was really awesome. He kept checking on me to see if I needed a different size or different color or whatever. Really put me at ease.

You guys... I swear... my shopping anxiety... is INSANE. I really don't see how anyone can find shopping relaxing.

NEWS FLASH: Feel free to call me a commercialist whore. I purchased not one, but three clothing items from American Eagle. Feel free to stone me to death now.

The final count: 2 pairs of jeans, 1 pair of kick-ass kakhis, 2 camisoles, 1 long sleeve shirt, 1 button-down overshirt/blouse/thingy.

This weekend: t-shirts and accessories. I know... the thought of me accessorizing is insane. But I'm going to give it a shot. Hopefully Jane will help me make it not-fugly. [Michacco too if he still wants to go with us.]

ANOTHER NEWS FLASH: I can hear again! Dr. Tuma said that I just managed to cram a bunch of chunks of hard wax up against my eardrum and it was preventing it from vibrating properly. He sprayed it out of my ear with warm water. That was THE MOST PECULIAR sensation in the world. A jet of warm water spraying your eardrum.

I won't tell you the exact details of what got sprayed out, because frankly, earwax is the single most disgusting substance in the known universe.

BUT I CAN HEAR! YAY!

For the first five or ten minutes I kept flinching at any semi-sharp or loud noise because I'd been almost half deaf for three days. I'm very very VERY relieved that there is no permanent damage.

ONE MORE NEWS FLASH: It's official. I'm everyone's favorite in JROTC. Except for Mark's. But that actually makes it kind of hilarious if you ask me.

[[He got kind of ticked off when he was trying to talk to me about what to do with the freshmen this week at mini camp and his ex-girlfriend waltzed over and sat herself right in my lap. *dies laughing* I love Amber.]]

Yeah, yeah, so I purposefully mispelled "the." Bite me.

The biggest problem with shopping? I have to do it to get stuff. Doesn't that suck? I don't mind getting new clothes or shoes or anything - that stuff's all fantastic. [I am a clothes whore, deep down in my heart of hearts.]

I just don't like the pain of realizing that you're a larger size than you thought you were, being too self concious to buy certain kinds of clothes or from certain stores, lusting after awesome clothes in stores that insist on making every size up to the size right below yours, finding stuff that actually fits but looks like crizzap, and just generally SUCKING at shopping.

I'm serious: I need girl lessons. Shopping, hair, makeup: in all of these areas I have either been a massive failure or had somewhat less than mediocre success.

ARGH.

But I've still got to do it sometime this week. Hopefully, with a faithful friend whom I can trust not to let me settle for anything fugly just because I'm discouraged, I can acutally manage to find some cool clothes. Jane has volunteered for this daunting task, bless her heart. I think Michacco is going to assist her. Godspeed to them. Don't be surprised if they come home with suspicious red stains on their hands and clothes and my body is found with shopping bags full of ugly clothes in a dumpster behind the mall.

Soooo yeah. Isn't sucking as much as I thought it would [everyone's still downstairs - minus Brian, Koren, and Becky who couldn't make it.]

We're actually having a good time. Although I'm not sure if there's a contest going on to see who breaks and cries first... I wasn't going to let it be me so I took a few minutes off and came up to my room.

I talked to my Grandpa. Mistake. I've always had an incredible amount of respect for my Grandpa, even if I'm not quite as close to him as I am to Granny. Mom and Vicki were talking about the funny things that Rob would say when he was on medicine that made him angry... Grandpa said [to me],

"I didn't think he would die. Even the morning that he died and Granny came in and said, 'You better go in and say goodbye to him, he's not going be much longer,' I didn't think he would die."

That morning was my Grandpa's 59th birthday.

I couldn't say anything to him without my voice cracking, so I turned around and pretended to listen something my Granny was saying.

My mom brought the photo albums. I'm gonna see if she'll let me borrow them and scan a bunch of the pictures. There's a bunch of me, my brothers, my cousins, aunts, uncles, old friends, relatives who have died. Some damn good pictures. I'll see about getting them on here.

My brother's birthday wasn't on Tuesday, it was on Friday. [Which I found out today.]

For those of you who don't read my xanga - I looked at my calendar on Tuesday and was like, "OMG IT'S ROBBIE'S BIRTHDAY." But it wasn't. Found out from my aunt and my dad today that YESTERDAY was his birthday.

Whoops, my bad. I've never been able to get that kid's birthday right.

Well, my family's coming over for his birthday tomorrow. Gonna be the first time in YEARS that my Dad's family and my mom and her family [which in this case justs consists of my mom's youngest sister - the other two live too far out of town] will have been together in AGES. We're gonna have soup, salad, sandwiches, and such.

We're gonna sit around and talk about Robbie.

I bet you five virtual dollars this is gonna suck.

My Aunt Vicki [Dad's sister] and my Mom have never gotten along. Part of that being that Vicki wishes she were our [mine and my brothers'] mom. And that Vicki got to kind of monopolize on Robbie's time because Mom had two other kids and a job to manage and the place we lived wasn't a healthy enough environment for Robbie to live with us.
[At the time we lived with my former step-father's parents and they had lots of animals and chain smoked constantly.]

Not to mention that it's just generally awkward.

Hell, it already sucks. I'm having to clean my ass off because these people are coming over tomorrow. And for some reason I can't get UN-TIRED so my ass has been dragging like you wouldn't believe. Must have taken me two hours to clean my bathroom.

Not to mention that mini camp starts next week and I can't quit thinking about it. . . God grant me the strength to not kill the people I cannot stand... the serenity to accept them for their sheer annoyingness... and the wisdom to know where to hide the bloody murder weapons [if the strength and the serenity don't work].

Bruce has cancer of the air compressor.

Hence, why my air conditioning decided to die [86% die anyways] in the hottest week of summer.

It costs about $1000 to replace the air compressor. Yeah, that's the right number of zeros.

That's how much we paid for the CAR.

My dad is ACTUALLY thinking about buying me another car.

He's also thinking about calling out a hit man on Phillip, the guy who sold us the car. The guy who assured us that the air conditioner worked just fine and just needed a freyon refill.

Crazy, crazy man.

*groan*

What if...

Oh lordy.

I just need to sleep on it and it'll be all better, right?

I swear, I'm happy about it.

Just... does it have to be such a mixed blessing?

[[HAHA! OBSERVE MY SUPER-POWERS OF VAGUENESS!!!]]

I saw this missing person report on my aunt's LJ. She dissappeared near Philidelphia, but that doesn't mean that she couldn't be somewhere around here.

Latoyia Figueroa, a 24-year-old pregnant mother of one has been missing since July 18.

On rare occasions* I will look at something I've written and think, "Hey, that's actually kind of clever."

And then I feel obliged to share it with you. Here you go:

"Angry xanga comments are about as equally effective as evangelistic bumper stickers."

Voila. Have a nice day!

*For some reason, my brain doesn't think this word is spelled right. To be honest, I don't really know. I'm a little sleep deprived and for all I know it could be something completely different than the word I intended to type. :p