RED the Book

I can't think of a good title, so this will have to do.

amyh — Mon, 12 May 2008 22:16:00 GMT

This is just a list of my life since May 1st. Yeah, there's a week or so missing there since my last update. But that was just a week of school, rehearsal and not enough sleep.

Lists seems pretty darn good to me.

Wednesday, April 30th:
• Urinetown opened. It rocked a lot. We actually pulled it together.

Thursday, May 1st:
• Turned 18.
• Sent off my deposit to Juniata College (and over the next few days, signed up for an orientation, began putting together a tentative schedule for next fall, etc).
• The cast of Urinetown sang Happy Birthday to me.
• Got cake and cannolis.

Friday, May 2nd:
• Woke up with a crazy sore throat and a cough.
• Voice deteriorated, asthma triggered. Am still trying to recover from that, but unfortunately I never seem to have time to rest.

Sunday, May 4th:
• Urinetown ended. Even with my crappy voice, I still managed to sort of sing in the shows. It was actually a total blast.

Wednesday, May 7th:
• Took the AP Calculus exam. Not that bad, I guess.

Thursday, May 8th:
• Ate breakfast at Tolly Ho with a bunch of my classmates, Coach Reed and Mr. Liimatta. Mr. Liimatta is the coolest EVER. He did his chicken and monkey prank noises for us, and when the mayor walked into Tolly Ho (apparently he eats breakfast there, like, every day?), Mr. L asked him to give us a pep talk — and he did! It was fantastic. Somehow, life is always amusing when Mr. Liimatta is around.
• We did the breakfast and pep talk because this morning, I took the AP English Lit exam. I think I did okay. We'll see.
• Mentoring showcase. It was actually supernice. I was smiling throughout all of the presentations. Everybody did such great projects! I'm really proud of my classmates, really really.
• Ate a quick dinner with James, Brian, Saskia and Portia at McDonald's tonight after mentoring. Was amusing. I love my friends.

Friday, May 9th:
• Got into NYU (off the waitlist, baby!), and requested the official acceptance packet and financial aid package. Wouldn't it be cool if they gave me lots of monies? :)
• Went to the Urinetown cast party.
• Did a lot of karaoke and killed my dying voice.

Saturday, May 10th:
• Sat around the house all day, sickly and gross.
• Went to the orchestra pops concert (my final concert :( sad!).
• Got the senior gift, which is a gorgeous and shiny jewelry box (and boys got beer steins, ahah).
• Surprised Mrs Neff with her new podium — which is amazingly beautiful, Mr Reynolds did a fantastic job, seriously.

Sunday, May 11th:
• Sat around the house all day, even more sickly and gross.
• Ate food from Belle Notte that my dad brought from the restaurant, because I felt too crappy to actually go out and eat. I kind of put a damper on mother's day :(

Monday, May 12th:
• Ate breakfast in Mrs Minor's class.
• Taught Newton's Method to my Calculus class.
• Confirmed the notion that I am the suckiest math teacher alive.

Now, I am sitting in the living room, actually in a pretty foul mood. I am still incredibly sick — I thought it was improving, but I think that karaoke on Friday night set it all off again. Now it's to the point where when I sit down from walking around the house for a few minutes, my chest hurts and the coughing only makes it worse and why can't I just get better already, because this has persisted since May 2nd, my god!

I also would like to be reviewing a few topics for my psychology AP exam tomorrow — the one I actually have a chance on — kids, say no to AP Chemistry, unless you're really really smart — but I can't find a quiet place in the house to do so because my mom is in the TV room clacking away on the computer and my sister and her friend are upstairs cackling away in her room (though I asked my dad to tell her no friends until after tomorrow — she'd yell at me if I tell her, and I can't handle it when she yells at me because she never listens, just yells and yells) and no matter where I go I will hear one of these and it will drive me insane. I can handle the faint sounds of kids playing outside, or of neighbors mowing their lawns. But the sounds of the keyboard or of people eating/talking/laughing — I just can't do it. I love how nobody in this house is at all considerate of the girl trying to finish out her senior year of high school.

Tomorrow I will:
• Take (and most likely fail) the Chemistry AP exam.
• Eat lunch in the car.
• Take (and hopefully ace) the Psychology AP exam.
• Die.
• Go to Lexington GSA.

Someday I'll blog about "exciting" things again. Hopefully. If I survive the next two weeks, anyway.

family v. relatives

jordynt — Mon, 12 May 2008 21:25:00 GMT

Hey friendlies. You’re probably all like, What’s up? Do you realize you haven’t wrote in days? When usually we can’t get rid of your stupid yammering! Are you okay? Are you dead?

Yammering: (v) See ‘yakking’, also ‘blabbering.’

Well, no. I am not dead. I am fine. Just busy. Like for instance, there is the fact that I started working again. Yeah, I know, you’re shocked that I actually found a job after so many months of looking. Who knew retail and other low end jobs were so difficult to come by? And besides that, there was also yesterday.

Which was, yanno, totally stressful. So stressful that I finally gave up on my art project and am sure I will not do so great on it. And for the record, it wasn’t stressful because of the art project. It was stressful because of the possibility that the dogs I am dog-sitting got into some Ibuprofen and then calling some vets and poison control and COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT. Apparently Ibuprofen is, like, the number one toxin for dogs. ABOVE CHOCOLATE! Seriously, all you dog owners out there - watch out. Do not, for example, leave a zippy bag of Ibuprofen in your purse if there is any chance at all of the dogs getting at it.

Man, that was scary. But the dogs are fine. And I am fine. And their owners will be home soon.

Okay. Well. Transition. (Also, I love how in blog posts you can just write the word transition and not worry about having an actual transition.)

I was thinking today, when I was driving home, about the difference between family and relatives. I know that technically, if we’re talking about extended family v. relatives, they’re pretty much the same thing. But they don’t seem like they should be. According to The Jordyn Dictionary, they aren’t the same.

Relatives are the people you’re related to. Your parents, siblings, parents’ siblings, grandparents, etc. Whoever you share a family tree with.

Family is slightly different. Family is smaller. Family is the people within that group of relatives that you care about and who care about you (and not in the oh-yeah-they’re-family way you care about your distant aunt Sylvia. Also, does anyone have a distant aunt Sylvia? Because if so, what a coinkydink.)

I don’t think that there’s a clear way to differentiate family from relatives though. It’s not that easy, but I know who I consider family and who I consider “just relatives.” For one thing, I know the family better. (The Family. Like we are part of the mafia or something.) I have funny anecdotes about The Family! I look forward to seeing The Family and wish I saw them more often! I call The Family! We keep in touch! We enjoy each other’s company! Most of the time!

Basically I think that all you really have in common with your relatives is a branch of the family tree and maybe some genetic traits, but you have so much more in common with the ones you consider family. If you are older than someone you consider a family member, you probably have funny and embarrassing stories about them. Like maybe when they were little they refused to wear underwear or a shirt with their overalls. (Remember overalls? I used to wear them all the time. And I don’t even think I liked them, but my mom did and I think that was when they used to be “in” or whatever, because people would say, “Jordyn, I like your overalls,” and I would be thinking that I belonged on a farm somewhere. Nothing against farms, of course. It’s just that I wasn’t on a farm. I was in school.)

Wow. I have certainly digressed and, as always, I’m not even sure if this post is understandable, but whatevs. Look forward to posts about The Family.

Am I Crazy?

jocelynp — Mon, 12 May 2008 02:42:00 GMT

Sorry for being a terrible blogger. Lately I've also been a terrible student, daughter, friend, and blog reader, among other things, so it's not just this part of my life that is suffering. Yay me.

Ahem. Anyway, I promise better posts at some point in the future, but for now, just something I don't really want to share with any of my friends but am for some reason relatively comfortable sharing with the internet in general....

Three years ago or so, there was a guy, a friend of mine. He was pretty great, and the class I had with him was a part of my day I really looked forward to. He was one of the few people at the time who I felt like I could be myself with. We had some great times in art and gym class (they alternated days and we had both together), and I still can't see a gym uniform from that school or a piece of art I did in that class without thinking about him.

One Thursday, we parted ways after school and he said, "See you tomorrow."

I never saw him again.

I still don't know what happened. He just vanished. He had existed on the outskirts of school society, so most everyone--teachers and students alike--quickly forgot him. The art teacher moved another kid into his desk just a few days later, just shrugging when I asked where he would sit when he came back.

I haven't really quit thinking about him or his mysterious disappearance without so much as a goodbye. I thought we were friends and I deserved at least that, but apparently not. At first, I missed having him around, but now, why do I still think about him? Is it some idea of him that I miss, or actually him, or am I just still bothered at the mystery of his disappearance and pissed off that he didn't even say goodbye?

I think it's all three.

Am I crazy to still spend far too much time searching for some trace of him on the internet when he's a vague memory to the handful of people here who remember him? It's futile; he has a common name. Why do I care so much? Why couldn't I just let him slide quietly out of my life as so many people have done through the years? What's wrong with me? I only knew him for a few months. What about him made that impact on me? I have no idea. Am I crazy?

a whole summer to do anything i want. yaaaaay.

zulayr — Mon, 12 May 2008 01:28:00 GMT

When is it my turn to have the fun?! And I'm not talking about the "stay up all night and party my ass off" kind of fun; I'm talking more along the lines of the "feel like i'm actually doing something worthwhile with my life" kind of fun. But the good news is that I have a whole summer to figure this awkward feeling out. Hopefully it goes away because if this is any sign of what's to come, then i'm in for a hell of a 2 months. Hm.

messages from the outer limits of our universe

jordynt — Sat, 10 May 2008 05:35:00 GMT

This was the phone I had before I bought the shiny new Env.

Do you guys see it? Do you see the alien phone? Its outer-spacey blue color and diminutive size? Well! That is just a trick, just a slight of hand. Because, you see, THIS PHONE WAS MADE BY REAL ALIENS. FROM THE OUTER LIMITS OF OUR UNIVERSE!

How do I know this? Because of the sound it makes when the battery runs out. It’s this wobbly, not-of-this-planet, we’re-totally-coming-for-you sound. And I swear the first time I heard it I was honestly questioning my sanity (I know, I know, how rare can that possibly be with me?) and wondering if THE ALIENS WERE ACTUALLY AND FOR REALLY CALLING ME TO THE MOTHERSHIP.

You see, it happened like this. The Alien Phone was dying. I would be in the middle of sending a text or having a conversation or dialing a number and all the sudden it would just give up. Shut down. Kaput. It was really getting annoying. My phone, you see, was giving up on me. And keeping that in mind, I thought it would be no big deal to get a new one. I mean, I didn’t think The Alien Phone would go berserk.

So I got the Shiny Envy.

And I proceeded to leave my Alien Phone somewhere in my room, still turned on even though it was periodically shutting itself down. Basically I forgot about it for a while. I was putting music on my Shiny Envy, I think, and also texting with it. So when I heard this faint, wobbly, strange, we’re-coming-for-you sound, it kind of freaked me out. I was like, huh?

I thought I might be going crazy. Nothing on planet earth made that sort of sound. NOTHING! So I thought, Jordyn, maybe you need to get some sleep. Maybe your imagination is going all sorts of crazy on you.

But then I heard it again. And again. And oh dear heavens, I began to question my sanity. I checked the home phone, sitting on my desk. I turned my computer and stereo off and walked around in the direction of the sound. And I found nothing. So then I did a very sophisticated thing in that I DECIDED THERE MUST BE ALIENS OUTSIDE MY WINDOW. And I checked for them in a sort of ha ha, just kidding, I don’t really think there’s extraterrestrial beings out there sort of way. Which, of course, there wasn’t.

BECAUSE THEY WERE CONTACTING ME THROUGH THE ALIEN PHONE. OBVIOUSLY.

Of course, I felt really stupid once I figured this out, that The Alien Phone was low on batteries (and really honestly low on batteries, not just, I-feel-like-pooping-out-on-the-Jordyn low on batteries like normal) and that it was The Alien Phone calling me from space.

Or, whatever, calling me to either turn it off or recharge it. Whichever. You know. It could have been the aliens. I wouldn’t put it past them, I mean they turn that guy’s dog into one of them so that the guy’s neighbor would shoot it and store it in his freezer.

Oh, what? None of you ever listened to The Art Bell Show? LIARS!

I get so attached to my writing, even my emails, I really like learning about myself

saml — Fri, 09 May 2008 19:04:00 GMT

Yay!! So nice to talk to someone [who listens *cough* male mutual firend *cough*] about all these intricacies in life. It’s hard though, the brick wall is unavoidable. At the end of the day at least half of the reasons I believe what I believe is because this particular illusion pushes the right psychological buttons and puts me at ease. I know that most of my life/childhood has been spent wanting things to be true more than actually evaluating their validity. But this was the mind blowing year that jarred loose many of the repressions designed by my self-preserving developing mind. The book helped me situate my angst ridden and freed intellect in what I believe to me a more accurate representation of Truth. That being that the symbolic world, the human agenda, and all the things we feel but can’t touch are in fact self-created. Still they are real because they are real to us. They are in some way the terms of the contract that binds us to our bodies in exchange for windows into the world. We are not floating souls and our urge to propel forward and our thirst for knowledge is beyond our control. I do believe though, as the book insinuates, that knowledge in it of itself is a pursuit, a distraction, a means of denying mortality the same way a child automatically fabricates himself in the belief systems imposed on him. The mind wants to feel stable, the mind wants to believe, and so it grounds itself in illusions that become a reality to it- to me. I guess I’m saying I believe my thoughts are just a bodily function to sustain my bodily needs which has come to include intellectual sustenance for the evolved human being. I suppose that does make faith a gap-filler, it makes pretty much everything a gap-filler, and I suppose that’s how I see life; a gap between birth and death. Still I look at myself from afar in a way, and see that I am week animal confined to my impulses, yet unlike other animals I face the torment of knowing that. I face the torment of knowing that my agenda is the whole world and at the same time an utter insignificance. I am everything in my internal world, my intellectually perceiving self sustaining real world, and next to nothing in my almost brush with objectivity. So when it comes to faith, I believe in the possibility of patterns existing above my comprehension- I believe in that possibility whole heartedly. At the same time I know psychologically why I believe it- why I choose to believe it- what solidity it gives me in waking life- and while I think that existing as a belief is not the same as existing, I don’t think that it can be called false or none- existent...

Does that help clarify my beliefs or did I miss the point, I kind of ran away with my thoughts. Anyway I kind of want to be proven wrong just because this world view leaves me so unbelievably jaded sometimes.

P.S. Schools over- will reflect on that later

feeling this way

jordynt — Fri, 09 May 2008 06:31:00 GMT

It is some sort of curse of mine that I always think I can explain things, that in my head the words always make perfect sense and the person on the other side of the conversation knows exactly what I’m saying when in real life all my words come out mangled and confusing.

Writing isn’t the same thing. I mean, it’s great and I’m so glad that, at least with this form of communication, my meaning finds its way from me to the recipient. But it’s not as if you can write down the words in your head before you say them - even if you did, the other person would interrupt you or your tone wouldn’t be right and you’d be misinterpreted anyways. At least, that’s how I feel about myself.

I feel as if I have to get permission to feel the way I feel - validation, almost. Like I should preface the “feeling” sentences with, “I know this is stupid, but…” Because it is. It always is. Emotions, mine at least, are always stupid. Or they’re not but I still think they are. Or I think other people will think they are.

I’m not sure if I’m the only one that’s like this though. Because one time one of my friends was mad about something, but not really letting herself be mad, and she wrote me and email about it and when I wrote back I told her it was okay to be upset. “I’m giving you permission to be angry,” I told her.

Which, oddly enough, is what I find myself looking for so much of the time. Someone saying that it’s okay to be jealous, angry, nostalgic, sad, whatever. Someone to let me know it’s okay to be mad when everyone else gets invited, to feel like I’m purposefully being left out. To tell me I can be jealous, can miss people, can be lonely.

The thing is I should be like this. I shouldn’t need someone else’s “permission” to feel how I feel. But somehow I always think that my emotions are different from everyone else’s - like no one else in my shoes would be this petty, this upset, this jealous, this lonely, this happy, this ecstatic, this whatever. It’s like I feel the need to reign in my emotions, to not really feel them because other people might not feel the same as me.

Is that stupid or what?

Lucky for me, there are quotes about this sort of thing. And we all know how the Jordyn loves quotes. THEY ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF CHAMPIONS!! (Please, someone know where this quotes is from. I hate being the only one who knows.)

Like this, from The Boyfriend List, My problem is I can think whatever I think but I still feel the way I feel. And this, from Tuesdays With Morrie, I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don’t let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry. Or how we feel a surge of love for a partner but we don’t say anything because we’re frozen with the fear of what those words might do to the relationship.

So this is my new goal, and sharing with the internets is kinda weird, but whatevs. From now on I am going to work on my emotions and not feeling like I need anyone else’s permission to feel them. I know! So touchy-feely, new agey! I am such the hippie.

i have awesome radio stories

jordynt — Thu, 08 May 2008 23:36:00 GMT

There’s a lizard outside my window, friendlies.

In other news, have you ever wondered why when you put in a DVD of The Office (assuming, of course, you have DVDs of The Office) the theme song is so loud you have to scramble to turn the volume down no matter how low it already was, but then the actual show comes on and you have to turn the volume up as high as it will go just to hear what they’re saying? Yeah. That’s annoying.

I’m counting how many books I have with the main character’s name in the title. Does anyone else do stuff like this? Probably not.

The answer, in case you were wondering? Ten. Suite Scarlett, Saving Zoe, Serafina67, The Murder of Bindy Mackenzie, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, Harriet the Spy, The Alison Rules, and Hail Caesar. Jeez. I should have counted how many books have titles starting with the word the. Just because I call myself the Jordyn doesn’t make it okay for everything and everyone to do the same.

You can tell I have nothing to write about, can’t you?

Oh! Okay, so I just thought of something to tell you. Yesterday I was in the car, listening to the radio, going to the library. And anyways, some lady calls the radio station and the conversation between her and the DJ goes something like this;

Lady: Am I late?

Because this radio station is always giving stuff away. I think all of them are. Me and my cousins used to listen to The Impossible Question and try to answer it, which reminds me of a few more funny radio stories, but back to the one at hand. I’ll start over now because I’m sure you all forgot what the lady said by now. (Of course I’m assuming you’re all just like Dory.) Anyways;

Lady: Am I late?

DJ: For what?

Lady: I don’t know. Just, you know, whatever.

AND SHE SAYS THIS VERY LAID-BACK, LIKE SHE CALLS RADIO STATIONS ALL THE TIME JUST ASKING IF SHE’S LATE FOR SOMETHING. It was hilarious.

And also it makes me want to tell more radio stories. Like this one. It was March 6th, 2007 and I know that for sure because I just looked up the old email I wrote Michelle about it. See, I write people random emails like this fairly often. And don’t even bother to ask how my mind works that I actually remembered that. I boggle even myself sometimes. Anyway, this morning radio show was asking people to call in and tell what their obsessions were. So blah, blah, blah, obsessed with reality shows, shopping, motorcycles, whatever. Then this guy calls in and the DJ asks him what his obsession is and he says this, WORD FOR WORD, “Well, I don’t know if I would call it an obsession, but I do know that before I started playing World of Warcraft I used to do other things.”

Um, yes. I would call that an obsession. Worse, I would call it an addiction, but who am I to judge? Also, that was hilarious.

Oh, and I do have one more radio story to tell but before that a little bragging. I got a 95 on my preschool observation!! Picture me doing a little happy dance (my happy dance, incidentally, involves me jumping up and down as if I think I am a kangaroo. It is very wonderful). No but seriously friendlies, this is awesome. It means maybe I will get an A in the class? One can only hope.

And okay, on to the next radio story. I told you guys about how me and my cousins (and sister, of course) used to listen to a local radio station that had this thing called The Impossible Question. Usually the winner would win, like, a meal from Taco Bell or something, and Brad really wanted to win a taco. I’m not sure if it was about the winning or the taco (he’s a notorious cheap-o), but this is why we sometimes called in. (Well. He called in or Taylor called in. Not me. Maybe sometimes Mads would. Not me.) (Did I mention I never called in?) Back to the story. I forget what the question was this one time, but Bradis was talking to the radio guy and in the background Tay and Madisona were jumping around and being… well… loud. So after my cousin tells the DJ his answer their conversation goes something like this;

DJ: Are you in a zoo or something?

Bradisona: What? Oh, no, that’s just my sister and cousin.

You guys. I am not kidding you. That is what was said. That really happened. Do I not have the bestest cousins (and sister, but from now on out lets just assume that 98% of the time when I say “cousins” I mean “cousins and sister”) ever?

Yes. Yes I do.

Also, Madisona will be 12 very shortly. Wow we are all getting really old. Before you know it we will be all married and what not and will bore our children to death with stories about how “when me and your aunts and uncle were little.”

Oh crud, wait. Haha, they won’t be aunts and uncle! They will be second cousins! Oh well. We can just call them that anyways, right? Right? RIGHT?

hates and loves

jordynt — Wed, 07 May 2008 05:51:00 GMT

So today, while I was looking around the kitchen and thinking of making either crepes or angel food cake (then finding out we had no flour), I realized that my opinions on things are always very definite. My opinions are RIGHT, dude. They are FACT. And they are never, ever iffy.

Like, I never (or at least rarely) think things are ‘okay’ or ‘pretty good’. No, I have SOLID opinions. I hate something or I love it. I never just think it’s alright. The problem with this is that when I change my mind about something it is a big deal. My family says things like, “wait - I thought you hated this song,” and I have to be all, “well, I did… and now I don’t,” and they pretty much just think I’m crazy, most likely.

My family thinks I’m crazy an awful lot. Of course, everyone in my family (immediate and extended) thinks that everyone else is crazy, all the time. And I am no exception to this. (In fact, when I was younger I think everyone probably thought I was the craziest one of all. Actually, this might still be true. No matter. I embrace the crazy that I am.)

But anyway. What was I talking about? Oh yes. Things I HATE and things I LOVE.

Things the Jordyn hates:

1. Gossip Girl - the books and the show.

2. Amy Winehouse, especially that Rehab song. Just go already and quit whining about it.

3. People saying things about how wonderful it must be to be so young and so, so healthy. Pshhh.

4. High School Musical.

5. People with the I-know-everything-about-life-and-no-one-else-knows-anything complex. Especially when they are my age because come on, not even Einstein knew it all when he was a teenager.

6. Scoffing at the fact that someone likes to read and/or write.

7. Talk radio where everyone is just mostly arguing. See point number 5, because these people always think they’ve got it all figured out.

8. The obsession with Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana. SHE’S EVERYWHERE!!

9. Doctor Zhivago, the movie. The only character I liked was his wife, whatever her name was. I felt bad for her though, having to put up with everyone else in the movie.

10. Awkward dialogue on television. See number 4.

11. When perfectly skinny girls feel the need to talk about dieting and “watching their weight.” (Honestly I could go all Freudian on this one and say this is a direct result of being overly-cautious to notdo that since so many people seemed to be convinced I was anorexic back in mid school and junior high. Which, yanno, Freud! wasn’t a total whack job, so maybe that’s true?) (I bet you’re wondering about the ! on Freud, huh? It’s a Friends reference, lol.)

12. David Archuletta. If he wins I will be devastated. DEVASTATED, I TELL YOU! DEVASTATED!

Things the Jordyn loves:

1. The Hills, even if it is vapid, superficial, and most likely fake.

2. The Paper. Am I the only one that thinks Amanda likes Alex? If you watch this show, please respond with your answer on this most important matter. But seriously, it’s like a Greek play or something. Amanda likes Alex! Alex is trying to steal the in-chief position from Amanda! Everyone hates Amanda anyway! (And also, Adam went to High School Musical on ice? Seriously? That’s really just embarrassing.)

3. Books!

4. Blogging, hence the obsessiveness.

5. Friends who live 800 miles away yet are still sending me a graduation invitation. (Thanks, Ash!) (And, also, just my friends in general. Also, family.)

6. Listening to wonderfullest music. Like Avril Lavigne, Taylor Swift, Kate Voegele, Fountains of Wayne, and anything hillbilly.

7. My phone. It is orange! It is an env! It stores up to 100 notes! (A function which, trust me, I make great use of.)

8. Cooking, which the Jordyn used to hate. But then she watched a week of Food Network while she was sick and - boom! - now she is a cooking fool! Just yesterday she made crepes with whipped cream that she whipped herself!

9. Inside jokes.

10. Quotes. Wonderful, wonderful quotes.

11. Offbeat names. Kiley! Johnson (for a first name)! Jenner! Roo! Ashton! Kelso! Tally! I am all about names that are just a little different.

12. David Cook. If he does not win I will likewise be devastated. See point 12 in the list of hates.

So there you have it. Things I hate and things I love, and if you look at points 1, 4, 8, and 12 on the hates list as well as points 1, 2, and 12 on the loves list (as well as secret point 13, which was going to be House), you will see that my crusade to make you all believe I spend a zillion hours a day watching telly is still in effect. AND IT IS GOING WONDERFULLY!!

(Oh and also, don’t forget - do you think Amanda has a crush on Alex? Answer! If you watch The Paper! Because otherwise you have no idea what I’m talking about!)

criminals in ski masks

jordynt — Wed, 07 May 2008 01:29:00 GMT

Mozella sounds a lot like Macy Gray. Just sayin.

Hello friendlies! Today is one of those foggy days where it is foggy. And I swear I had stuff to write about before I actually sat down (this happens wayy too much), so since all my amusing thoughts have left me I’ll just tell you about the bank robbers.

And then maybe something more later? I don’t know.

Anyways. Bradis and Madis were down for a while and me and Mom and Madis had just gone to Sprouts. A store that is always very, very cold. I wonder if that is supposed to make it seem more healthful or something? I don’t know, but Sprouts is two things (1) healthy, and (2) cold. Also, (3) smells weird, which is probably just all the organicness of it. Also, the vitamins.

Organicness: (adv) the act of being organic.

So there we were, driving away from Sprouts headed toward home, and this car speeds past us going in the opposite direction. Okay, fine, nothing odd there.

But the people in the car, this old-looking red convertible, WERE WEARING SKI MASKS. Black ones. Now I’m no scientist or anything, but we don’t exactly live in Antarctica and what reason can you think of for wearing a ski mask in summer unless you’re in Antarctica?

That’s right. None.

So I turn to Madis and say, “Did you see those guys?” (Note: I do not actually know they were guys. They could have been girls. Or one of them could have been at least. But whatever.)

And Madis says something about how fast they were going. (Hint: Really really fast.)

And I say, “Did you notice they were wearing ski masks? Ooh, I bet they just got done pulling a bank job!”

Madis, of course, was very on board with this idea. My mom, however, basically called us crazy. Which, okay, we are. But not for that reason, please. Because in my mind, the equation is very simple and it goes like this SUPER SPEEDY OLD LOOKING CONVERTIBLE + PEOPLE WEARING SKI MASKS = BANK ROBBERS.

Simple. I saw bank robbers, probably bank robbers fleeing the scene of the crime. My life is so exciting.

post email panic

jordynt — Tue, 06 May 2008 06:02:00 GMT

While I wasn’t really planning on writing a third post today, sometimes these things just happen. Plus, I am very obviously addicted to blogging.

Or, uh, you know, writing in general. (It occurs to me that I use words like “um” and “uh” far more often in my writing than I should. There’s even an instance of it in my essay. In a book! Probably qualifies me as A WEIRD WRITER, which is probably one of the highest forms of WEIRD you can reach. Yay me!)

Anyways, today I was thinking about something I refer to, at least in my own mind, as POST EMAIL PANIC.

Post email panic is what happens when, after happily sending an email off to someone, you become convinced that IT HAS BEEN SENT TO THE WRONG RECIPIENT AND WILL DESTROY YOUR WORLD WHEN IT INEVITABLY FALLS INTO THE WRONG HANDS. This happens one of two ways.

You send the email and the very second you hit the send button you are suddenly stricken with panic that you sent it to the wrong person. After all, you know so many people whose names begin with M so how could you have possibly sent it to the right one? (Seriously you guys, are you on a mission to make sure at least half the names in my contact list begin with the letter M?) So then you frantically click to your ’sent’ box and make sure it has been directed to the proper email address. Then you check it three more times just to be sure. After all, you can never be too certain! (Especially when it comes to things that you, at that point in time, HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL OVER.)
The whole sending of the email goes fine. It’s not until a couple days (or weeks, depending) that the anxiety sets in. Because OHMYGOSH THAT WAS A TOP SECRET VERY IMPORTANT EMAIL AND THERE IS STILL NO RESPONSE and of course you’ve talked to the intended recipient since then so wouldn’t they have brought it up? Except that they did. Which is why you’re totally freaking out and, after checking to be sure you actually sent it to the right M-name, you go to plan B. Which involves typing out a short and awkward email around the lines of, “Oh, uh, just checking to see if you got that last email I sent you? About the thing with the thing? Yeah? Okay, great, just, yanno, wondering. No biggie.” And then you wait impatiently for the ALL CLEAR email which means YES I GOT IT OF COURSE I GOT IT, WHO DID YOU THINK IT WENT TO ANYWAYS?

Yanno: (v) A combination of “you” and “know”. Yanno, these dictionary entries are awesome.

In any case, Post Email Panic happens to me a little too often. And the thing is, whenever I really think of what would happen if one of those emails went to the wrong person, the answer is 99.8% of the time… nothing. Maybe some mild embarrassment? I remember, after writing my Red essay and promptly sending it to Michelle (of course), being panicked that I sent it to my mom instead. I was like, Nooo, she can’t read that!! (And now, of course, it goes without saying that she has read it. Der.)

Man. Life is hilarious.

Der: The funny person’s duh. See also, doi. You don’t get a lot of der these days.

nifty gifty

jordynt — Mon, 05 May 2008 22:59:00 GMT

It happened like this:

Apparently I got a box from Amazon in the mail. I say apparently because it showed up at our house and it had my name on it.

Only I didn’t order anything from Amazon. I know this because when I am expecting a package I am neurotic about checking the mail and waiting impatiently for it and so on and so forth. But this time I wasn’t being neurotic or impatient or anything. In fact, you might say that when the Jordyn looked at the box she was like, Huh? Where did this come from? Does it contain a bomb that will detonate in my face? WHO IS OUT TO GET ME!?

Then the Jordyn started thinking, This is not right. Maybe I did order something from Amazon. And then, Nah, that is impossible. So I began to open the box. And inside were those weird air-filled sacks Amazon sends sometimes in place of regular ole fashioned packing peanuts. You know what I mean.

However, underneath the super-duper-Amazon-air-packaging was something flat that was green stripedy and resembled sheets. Honestly, I am not kidding you, I thought, Oh, gee, Mom ordered sheets for me. Because, yeah, that’s the sort of weird way my brain works.

Turns out it wasn’t sheets though! It was gift wrap! And cue the Jordyn, still confused and also pretty stupid because SHE REALLY THOUGHT IT WAS GREEN SHEETS THERE FOR A SECOND. But anways, attached to this lovely green gift wrap was a nice little wonderful card from my mommy that was full of sentimental goodness and OMG THE JORDYN STILL DOESN’T KNOW WHAT IS INSIDE THE WRAPPING PAPER BECAUSE SHE IS OBVIOUSLY DUMB AS A ROCK AND SLOW AS A TURTLE (yes, I love similies although maybe those two were a bit much).

And what was it?

It was the amazing, the splendiforous, Oh, the Places You’ll Go! Woohoo!!

Also, remind me to tell you guys about the time I saw bank robbers. It was thrilling!

this post has asterisky goodness

jordynt — Mon, 05 May 2008 12:54:00 GMT

Hello friendlies!!

It is 5:25 in the am, according to my alarm clock. For some reason my body was refusing to sleep (as it so often does), so I figured, hey, it’s late enough, I’ll just get up and dink around until I have to get ready for school.

Is dink a word?

According to dictionary.com, it is a word - it just doesn’t have the definition I thought it had. In case you’re wondering, I am not using the word dink as a racial slur, a volleyball term, or slang for a two income, childless couple. Really I should write my own dictionary, wherein dink would have the following definition;

Dink: (v) to do something of little importance and/or harm in order to pass the time. She figured she would just dink around until the morning came.

See? The first entry in THE JORDYN DICTIONARY. Which, I’m sure we can all agree, should totally be a real thing.

In other news, does anyone know how to do that line-splitty thing? Since I don’t, you’ll just have to pretend that all those asterisks below equate to a line-splitty thing.

********************************************************************************************

Ah look! Asterisky goodness! ^^^

Anyway, while I was failing at sleep (seriously, if Sleep 101 were a class my GPA would be taking a not-so-lovely dive) I was remembering, for some unknown reason, this thing my ELP class (Extended Learning Program, which basically meant the school thought we were smart enough to be in this “smart” class. I know, I know, I do a loverly job of explaining things, right?) did in third grade.

After we finished our poetry unit there was this poetry reading thingamajig we did in the school library. We sat in a row of little chairs and they set the podium up and our parents came and we read stuff we’d wrote and blah-blah-blah. So anyways, everyone had a bunch of poems they wanted to read, and I had two. Because then, as now, I was nervous about reading anything I’d wrote in front of people. Actually I was (and am) nervous about people reading anything I’d wrote at all. I know, I know, so smart for an aspiring author, huh? But anyways, we would get up and read our stuff and our overly proud parents would take pictures of us.

And somehow, in all that picture-taking, none were taken of me. Oh, not because my parents didn’t take pictures, because they did. I have them (the pictures, not my parents) sitting in my pencil box with all the other snapshots I’ve acquired over the years. There just aren’t any that were taken when I was reading. Now, I’m not sour about this or anything, I mean it was difficult enough for me to stand up there withoutthe added pressure of THIS MOMENT IS BEING RECORDED FOR ALL TIMES AND FOREVERNESS!!, but it just seems a little odd that I have pictures of Keegan reading and possibly even pictures of Olivia and Damian reading, but none of me.

You can see me in the background though, looking very little and ascared.

Ascared: (v) frightened or afraid, usually applied to a little person such as an eight-year-old child. I was ascared to read my poems aloud.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also, for anyone who is wondering, I have, in fact, started a wordpress blog. Which, uh, is basically identical to this blog. So yay for identicallyness!! (www.girljordyn.wordpress.com) But you can comment there if you like. Or you can ignore wordpress if you like. Or you can ignore me altogether if you like because really I just blog because I am full of bloggery goodness inside. (hahaha)

crusade

jordynt — Mon, 05 May 2008 05:27:00 GMT

Crusade! Crusade crusade crusade!

That is the word I've been trying to remember for about a week now.

the marriage age is going up? hm?

jordynt — Sun, 04 May 2008 23:14:00 GMT

So according to the statistics, marriage age is getting older and older. The average age to get married is now in your late twenties for both men and women.

Which sort of makes me go, "huh?" Because I just don't see it.

I know of at least three girls in my classes who are planning their weddings (and none of them is any older than 22), more people that are that young and already married. Sarah's friend (who's what? 20? 19?) got married a few months back and another girl I know (who is 19, I think) got married just last week. Plus I found out that a girl I was friends with in third grade and beyond, who's still a senior in high school, is engaged.

So do I just deal with a very skewed-from-the-rest-of-society group of people? At first I thought that, but then I realized that all these people I'm talking about aren't at all in the same section of my life. A couple of them are of the same religion as me, others I know from school, and that last girl is someone I haven't seen since freshman year. So, uh, what's up? Is the marriage age going up for everyone except people within one degree of the Jordyn?

And really, what is the right age to get married? This question has been the catalyst for many Jordyn-Mich, uh, debates over the years. Probably as time goes on it will become an ironic thing, lol, but our opinions vary so much that I feel like we need to have a mediator - someone to stand in the middle (figuratively speaking, of course), and tell us the correct answer.

Which is, obviously, that there is no correct answer. Some people get married at eighteen and twenty-five years later are still perfectly married and say things like "JORDYN YOU REALLLY MUST START DRINKING COFFEE, FOR IT IS THE LIFEBLOOD OF CHAMPIONS!!" And then there are people who get married at that same age and five years later are all OMG WHAT DID I DOOO?? and boom, divorce. Same goes for people who get married at twenty-four or twenty-five or twenty-nine or thirty-two. And that just makes everything so much more confusing.

So what was I talking about? Oh yeah. The marriage age going up for everyone except people I know? Or something like that?

Also, I watched Chasing Zoey Friday night. Because I am obviously still thirteen years old, woo-hoo!!

moving the blog? possibility

jordynt — Sun, 04 May 2008 04:48:00 GMT

So hello friendlies! I think I might start a new blog... I mean move my personal blog to wordpress (because that way other people can comment and, um, I like wordpress b/c my review site is there)... although I still really want it to show up here too because I love the red site too much. Can't figure out how to import a blog though (mebee you can't?).

So my options:

copy&paste all my entries
don't move my blog
go rent 27 Dresses (which has nothing to do with anything, but whatevs)

this is difficult work

jordynt — Sun, 04 May 2008 02:14:00 GMT

So after doing this blog meme that basically told me I AM THE MOST UN-WELL READ PERSON EVER IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, I decided to make my own list of books that I think you should read in order to be well-read. A 'recommended-for-us-all' reading list, if you will.

And, surprise surprise, this is incredibly hard. I'm leaving out a lot of books I personally love but know others wouldn't necessarily (Gone With the Wind, anyone?) as well as a lot that are required reading in schools but I don't really think you should have to read (The Great Gatsby, even though I loved it, many others hated it - HI MOM!!) And I'm adding a lot more recent books, mostly YA because (a) that's mostly what I read and, (b) when you start doing required reading in schools all the books become YA anyways... right?

But so far I only have nine FERSHUR books and six MAYBEBABY books. I think fifteen is a good rounded number for a MUST READ list, but I'm having some troubles deciding which the fifteen should be. I think I'm going to take Little Women off the list. I mean, it's a great book, don't get me wrong, but besides the fact that it's commonly regarded as GREAT LITERATURE, I really don't see why everyone should read it.

Plus I'm having a hard time keeping the list strictly fiction, despite the fact that I mostly read fiction (and YA fiction at that). I'm tempted to add a nonfiction amendment to it that has books like The Diary of Anne Frank and Tuesdays With Morrie.

I am a 21% narcissist.

jordynt — Fri, 02 May 2008 06:57:00 GMT

So I'm reading Generation Me, which is, omg, soo good. And anyways I just finished reading a chapter on the whole "teaching self-esteem in schools" thing and how it has probably led to more narcissism than actual self-esteem. So basically we are all narcissistic?

Well, I thought about that. And I decided that I probably think I have too many flaws to be a narcissist. Besides that, I'm kind of a perfectionist? Which while it sounds like it should be comparable to narcissism, really isn't. But still, I felt like I had to find out if I was really a narcissist.... so I did what you do in the 21st century when you want to find out who you are - I TOOK AN INTERNET QUIZ!! (Haha yes that was supposed to be either sarcastic or ironic or tongue-in-cheek... I'm not sure which because I'm still not entirely sure what tongue-in-cheek humor is. Someone care to fill me in?)

And blah-de-blah-blah, this quiz at beliefnet.com tells me that out of a possible 120 I scored a 25 on the narcissism scale. Um, hi. That's really low. That's like scoring 21%. And okay, it's great that I'm not a narcissist (but I kind of already knew that and while we're at it, why don't these quizzes ever tell me something about myself that I don't already know?) but seriously - 21%? I may as well be in negative numbers here!

The question is, does my low narcissism rating equal low self-esteem? (To this I go back to the wonderous internets for another quiz that will tell me what I already know!) My self-esteem rating is, according to the DiscoveryHealth website, 68 out of 100. Woot! But I could have told you that. I'm not sure if I have "high" or "low" self-esteem, but I'm pretty sure whatever it is, it's healthy enough. I mean I don't go around thinking I'm worthless or anything, but I also don't think I'm the most important person on the planet. But um, what was my point going to be? I should take a forgetfulness test... I'm pretty sure I could score 100% on that.

Anyways, along with this whole "narcissism" theme, I was looking at Teen magazine a few days ago, because it was there and Psychology Today wasn't, and I saw this poll. The poll asked readers if they would rather bring about world peace or become billionaires. And hopefully this will surprise you guys as much as it surprised me, but about 50-something% of them said they'd rather be billionaires than bring world peace. (prepare for flagrant sarcasm) Woo! Way to care way more about yourself than about the rest of humanity! Brownie points for narcissism!!

Haha. And for any of you who want to see if where you fall on the narcissistic and self-esteem scale, here are the links to the quizzes:

Narcissism Quiz

Self-Esteem Quiz

Somebody tell me something worthwhile

saml — Thu, 01 May 2008 07:53:00 GMT

Please- anything

i am really not a tv addict, i just seem that way in this post

jordynt — Thu, 01 May 2008 07:32:00 GMT

Some random things:

I was very nearly ecstatic when I was watching House yesterday and they (of course by "they" I mean Chase) used the term like-like. Haha! I thought I was the only person left who used that phrase!
I am very awake because I fell asleep way too early and then Taylor woke me up at 11:30 and I'm still awake (um, yeah, obviously...)
I did not actually watch American Idol because of the whole "falling asleep ridiculously early" thing but how sad that Brooke got booted! I liked her! Her and David Cook were my favorites and that little twerpy David is just annoying. He reminds me of a hobbit; does he remind anyone else of a hobbit? If he wins it will be sad.
The most recent Office episode... Dwight: You remind me of a certain Tolkein character.
I know that thus far this post really makes me look like a television addict, but I'm seriously not. I just have a few shows that I REALLY REALLY REALLY like.

And I was going to write something more substantial tonight but suddenly I don't feel like it. So there. :)

I’m getting all Emo again

saml — Thu, 01 May 2008 05:34:00 GMT

I have the chills. What am I doing… numbing… Mental breakdown- Mental breakdown- Hips- cold.

I don’t why. I remember looking up at him.

But the kaleidoscope of phallic images was not what I thought I wanted.

Dancing- jagged sharp steps counter-intuitively stylized- I will forever know to count the beat and ride the wave of intuition.

What was I to him- for him?

Definitions feel heavy and forced onto me

The listless whore-

moans thirsting for satiation like hunger pangs

For the moments that enslave the parasite of pursuit

Cold to the touch

Warming only to the brush of chemical euphoria

Unloved by selfish beings that stomp clumsily over my selfish distress

I Undress

Just to be groped wildly

Paws at my supple chest

What am I?

Decisions to be lost in the perfunctory music of automatica

Who indifferently swallows the color blue

Please G-d, be alive-

I don’t want to be alone anymore

on death

jordynt — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 04:33:00 GMT

So let's talk about sympathy cards.

Um, they're kind of rotton? They all say things like, may the memories of happy times see you through the rough days ahead. Nice sentiment... I guess. But really, I mean, I'm not exactly an expert in this area because no one close to me has died, but it just seems like... like that pain never really goes away. I mean yeah, people mourn and grieve and then somehow go on with their lives but I don't believe for a second that the hurt goes away or that you just stop missing that person. And I like to hope that after a while the memories do become reassuring and you can think of them in a happy way, but at first?

At first doesn't it seem like all they'd be are little knives stabbing your heart? Or something less graphic, I think I watched too much House today.

But back to the subject at hand. Even though I've never lost someone close to me in death, I imagine that this quote from Becca's essay ("Big Shoes") must sum it up pretty well....

I measure my grief over her in bad days and not-so-bad days.

That must be right. It sounds right too me. Death leaves everyone in its wake reeling, so affected by it even if they didn't know they would be. It stuns us. It's the ultimate shock... so difficult for us to comprehend that someone who was there just a day, week, month earlier is no longer with us. It doesn't seem right, does it? It doesn't seem natural. And I have to believe that this isn't how it was supposed to be; I have to believe that death was not god's purpose for us, that there's a reason it leaves us so dumbfounded, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. It's because it wasn't supposed to happen and it's sad, too too sad, too too ultimate, and we don't know how to deal with it.

happy happy things because i don't want to think about the sad sad thing

jordynt — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:01:00 GMT

Hi friendlies.

Let's talk about something happy, okay? Because I don't want to talk about the sad stuff and there is always plenty of it and especially now. So things that are making me happy right now:

the music I am listening to... a playlist of songs that are wonderful. right now it's sara evan's 'born to fly'
texts from friends (right now, becca and michelle)
my room being the perfect temperature right now, which is amazingly rare
not going back to sleep this morning after I took taylor to donuts
my novel-in-progress, even if I'm not looking forward to the huge whopping dose of SAD in it and am trying to look for ways to get around it... and finding none. people will just have to deal with it.
the unread (and new!) sarah dessen book on my shelf (lock and key) which I am not going to read until I finish the mommy myth because I'm trying to read more nonfiction (even when the print is teeny tiny tiny)
having the colbert report, the paper, and the hills on dvr
the fact that 'bubba shot the jukebox' just started playing. best. song. evar!
finally starting to watch the star wars trilogy. yes, I realize I am woefully late on this one
that john and hank didn't stop making videos at the end of 2007
my bn member card! (thankyoumom)

In other news, have I mentioned my tiredness? Well I am. Which is weird because when I woke up at four I wasn't tired at all, then when I woke up again at six-forty I wasn't even that tired. But now I'm getting tired and thinking a nap, how yummy.

leave it to ME to go through something like this, at a time like this.

zulayr — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 13:54:00 GMT

Just thought I would share yesterday's events with you all, since it's the morning after and i STILL don't believe it happened.

So I spent the better half of yesterday studying for my math final- I went over every possible question that could be on the test, and I even decided i would go to class a half hour early just so i could go over my review with my professor. I get to school and when i'm about 6 steps away from class, I realize that I didn't have my calculator, which to me is a tragedy because i'm nothing without it; like really, I use a calculator for simple arithmetic just so i don't stumble and make a mistake using mental math- i'm attached to the freaking thing. So I start to panic and decide to run (yes,run) to the bookstore to try and buy a calculator- then i look at the time and apparently, stress makes time go SO much faster because i only had 17 minutes to get to the bookstore (which of course, is on the other side of campus), buy the calculator, run BACK to my classroom and try to review with my professor. With that long task at hand, i haul it to the bookstore and start nervously powerwalking around the aisles to find a calculator, and when I finally find one it turns out that I would have to pay $150 for it because they only had the fancy ones that looked like they can probably calculate the latitude of South Africa. I ask one of the girls there if they had a simple calculator that doesn't cost so much- you know, one where I can just add and subtract and divide and all that easy stuff. Of course, the girl tells me that they ran out and she offered to order some for me, and although i think it was nice of her to try, it wasn't gonna help my situation at all.

I ditch the bookstore and start heading back to class and start calling anyone who might be at school at that time, but as fate would have it no one answers, so i call my best friend to attleast try and calm myself down. Luckily she tells me that she can drive to school and bring me hers, but the only problem was that my exam was in less than ten minutes. She tells, me, "don't worry! i'll make it there by then and you'll be fine!" So a part of me starts to chill, and as Im pacing in front of my class, it starts to dawn on me that I was the only person waiting outside, and the door was locked and the lights were off. It's usually not like my professor to be late because she always gets to class early on test days to review. i start thinking to myself, if this test is in the math lab then FOR SURE i'm going to be late cause that's all the way on the other side of school, which, in turn, made me freak all over again, so i called my best friend again to tell her to meet me somewhere else. In the midst of my panic, she asks me, "wait..your test IS today, right?" and i say "of course it is! it's in my notes!"you see? my test IS on...wednesday...oh."

So yes, my test was not yesterday. It's tomorrow. I ran around school for nothing and i looked like a mess; a sweaty, humid-haired calculatorless mess.I was so drained that i don't think I could've brewed up anger if i tried, so me and my best friend just laughed it off. I guess leaving my calculator at home was a sign, but the power of finals-stress believes in no signs. And now i have a ton of people from work asking me how my test went, and all i say is that it was postponed. -_-

i hate that this bothers me, but it does

jordynt — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 05:22:00 GMT

**note** most times when i write personal stuff in here i end up taking it out but for some reason i think i want this one to stay up

I think in the back of my mind I always wanted to be Valedictorian. I knew it wouldn't happen, of course, because there were the Wades and the Claires and the Keegans and they were all in Science Olympiad and taking math classes over at the high school when they were in eighth grade and I did neither of those things. But still. I wanted it. I also wanted to be on the Honor Society, the Acadec team, take AP classes, and edit the yearbook. None of those things happened, though I jumped into them all ferociously in ninth grade. I took Acadec and was on yearbook staff and planned on the AP classes I would take later on, not knowing that later on I'd be quietly homeschooling.

But mostly my vision was this: I wanted to graduate from BR and I wanted to walk with Kelsey and Keegan and Lacey and all those other people I'd known forever. I wanted to smile and get my diploma and laugh and cry goodbyes. I wanted my family to have a party and celebrate my graduation and I really really really wanted someone to give me Dr. Suess' Oh The Places You'll Go. My family used to talk about having a party too; I kind of think that as I got older and kept on the same omg-she's-reading-before-kindergarten path I'd been on, my family started being really proud of me.

I mean not like they weren't proud of me before. But I always had - and in fact still have - this idea in my mind that I was somehow counted on to be something for my family. I was going to do more than just get by. And this is happening. My aunt Donna printed up my HuffPo article and sent it to my grandparents. I went back to visit after Red came out and everyone was so proud of me, saying congratulations and I could see in their eyes that they were kind of surprised. In their eyes I was still that five year old who loved to watch Barney but suddenly they realized that I was grown.... ish.

But there was no party. There was no Valedictorian, no Honor Society, no yearbook editor or Acadec team. Instead there was me, quietly doing my work, silently graduating a year early and not even bothering to go to the ceremony because it was two hours away and what did I care anyways? Those people I was supposedly graduating with weren't people I knew or cared about, weren't people I had spent the last decade with. They were strangers. So instead I graduated silently. My dad bought me a used car and I enrolled in community college, nobody ever gave me the Dr. Suess book, and quietly, dutifully, began the next step in my life.

The things I had wanted to happen though, hadn't. Most people didn't even know I had graduated or that I was going to college. My family knew but it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like I had wanted it to be or like it would have been if things had gone according to plan. And now my friends I was supposed to graduate with are getting ready to graduate in a couple months and I won't be there. I helped a girl here with her humongo graduation party and never had one of my own.

And why? Because I just didn't see the point. Who would I invite? Why would it matter? Everyone I wanted to invite was a state away. Nothing had gone according to my master plan. And that's supposed to be okay, right? I mean, look at me. I'm ahead of the game. By the time my friends graduate I will be finishing up my first year of college. I have actual publishing credits and am shopping my novel. I'm way ahead and that should make me happier than it does. But the reality is that I look at my friends who are getting ready to graduate and having it be this whole hoopla - choosing their college, going to the graduation ceremony, saying goodbye to friends, and I miss that. I hate that I missed out on it, I hate that I care so much.

And I hate that, as with everything else about me and my life, that milestone of graduating high school completely flew in under the radar. Nobody even noticed. A few of my friend's friends graduated last year, same as me. And I was with her when she talked about not knowing what to get her friends who were graduating but she had to get them something. And I'm sure she did get them something. But she didn't even give me a card. Nobody did.