gaaahhhh

Today I swore.*

Out loud.

In front of my boss's wife...Oops. And I was too in shock at my own mouth to apologize/excuse myself.

That was embarrassing.

People at work are officially rubbing off on me. In a not-so-good way.

Dang.**



*okay, so it was just the D word. But still.
**Not that D word. The real one.
***Also, that muzzle would have really come in handy.

also:

Why did I not finish Chem 227 when I had the opportunity?!

That's all.

"i want you to dance like you're 'posed to!"

AHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

why oh why oh why was i born with such indecision (and randomly an utter lack of capitalization)?

i'm sitting in a fig tree once again (sylvia plath quote that basically sums up my entire life) with all these figs as options and i can't seem to pick one and cut off my strings to the others...

it would help if someone would call me back for once. GRR.
it would also help if i'd just decide once and for all if i want to compete individually this year.
but it's a blackpool year! brent's and my mother's voices in my head protest.
but i want to be a chemist! i almost say outloud.

ballroom just doesn't seem to have the hold on me it once did. thinking about spending 10 hours a week in the lab excites me a lot more than 10 hours a week in rehearsal.
but i can't just sit by and watch everyone else dance in full costume and makeup in november. i would cry. probably.

meh. i just wish i knew what would make me happiest.

meh

Sometimes things in life make me want to barf.

Too bad my gag reflexes aren't very cooperative.

Shucks.

:-P

an addition to below post

Not to mention the fact that I will be gone TEN days!

Ten days away from classes, friends, and Josh.

:(

so there.

"I cannot seem to operate and you my love are gone."

NOoooooooooooooooo
NO NO NO NO NO.

Warning: This is another one of those "ballroom never lets me do anything!" rants. Let me start out by saying I'm very grateful to be a member of the company and for the opportunities it gives me, BUT. Sometimes, I just hate midsemester tour.

I'm going to be out of town for Ingrid Michaelson AND Snow Patrol! Ingrid is probably one of my all-time favorite artists, and absolutely AMAZING in concert (right, Amanda?). And! Snow Patrol is performing ten minutes from where I live, and I have always wanted to see them live. And I shall be in Southern California falling behind in my classes and dancing myself crazy. Grrrrr! (Ok, ten days in So Cal is not much of a trial, BUT.)

All I have to say is Regina Spektor better be coming this year. And I'd better not be gone.

Meh!

I'm so sorry

Has anyone ever loved something... or someone... so much that you find you're ruining it? You would do absolutely anything in the world to make things work, but it only causes problems? The real answer lies in doing less, not more? It lies in taking a step back, letting things happen as they do, and praying like there's no tomorrow that it'll all work out in the end? That's me.

I feel like a little child that has just stumbled upon a caterpillar's cocoon. Fascination tingling this child sits and watches as the cocoon parts and a butterfly starts to try and crawl out. Paralyzed with awe the child just watches, wanting to simply touch the metamorphosis that he doesn't understand. As the butterfly clears the cocoon the child is unable to retain himself any longer and attempts to pick up the fresh butterfly. Enchantment turns to consternation as he accidentally tears one of the unbelievably fragile wings. Tears stream down his face as he realizes if he had only waited a little longer he would not have destroyed the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

May the world know, may my friends know, but most of all... may my butterfly know... Katie... I'm sorry. I love you too much. I try too hard. And sometimes.... I tear your wings. Forgive me. I was wrong yesterday. I don't know what came over me. Please forgive a child that is so in love he doesn't know how to act. I love you Katie.

something worth venting about.

I really don't like the word "hate," but I can't seem to find a better word at this moment.

I hate books that are filthy. and I mean filthy, filthy. Filthy enough to make me put them down, even when the non-filthy parts are sooo potentially incredible. {And I am selective about what I read/watch, but I am not someone who gets squeamish during a PG movie.}

And I hate when you can't even get past page 5. At least the author has the decency to warn you early, that this is not the kind of so-called "love" you believe in and/or want to read about for 500 pages (and believe me, I skimmed a great deal of it, and saw more than a few choice expletives, as well as some "scenes" I have no desire to reproduce in my head)

And I hate that books don't have a rating system. That would make things so much easier. Books are supposed to be better than movies, right?

Grrrrrrr! <---that is how I feel inside right now. Blood boiling. Almost the same way I feel when I think about landfills, and anti-mormon stunts at Conference.

I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world

This is me folding clothes.

This is me silently screaming my head off.

Don't worry, it's just been one of those nights.


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!