The more I get others to open up, the more I feel myself slowly pulling away from everyone. LiveJournal only becomes useful when I need somewhere--not someone--to spit pitiful one-liners.

ONLY EVAN, PARISA, AND EMILY WILL GET WHAT IS ABOUT TO BE WRITTEN. Read only if you don't want to make sense out of it.



Beware the stare
of the Red Bull Man.
He had no children,
only...vans.

Red Bull Man drives the Red Bull Van, and he's been drinking a lot of Red Bull so he's kind of hopped up and he's got this van right? So he's all "WellI'vegotthisvan whatcanIdowiththisvan thisisabigvan Imakidnapsomebodyandkillem!" So he has 101 vans, and when he dies he wants all of his vans to be buried with him and he wants to be TURNED INTO A VAN. So then this kid whose father is the Funeral Home guy is in the "work area" at night and the van-man is in his coffin and the kid steps up on the coffin tripod base thing to get another look and it tips over and the van falls on him and kills him. And the big wall case of vans is actually a really small case with matchbox Vans in it and the camera pans out and you can see it's really tiny. Also, the vans headlights/tires all turn one way, and then the bumpers drop with a creeeeaaaak. And the father who looks normal for the whole movie is actually a van, too, and it flashes back and in all the scenes the father was in, it's now a huge van in his place. And the RBM lives through his vans so his face is all pushing out of the windshields and whatever. Donnie Wahlberg is the cop and everyone's name is "The Den" except for RBM. If you scream when you see the vans then it runs you over.

I love used book stores and CDs. I just want to brag about all the AWESOME finds I bought today.

Books:
The Portable Oscar Wilde complete with a novel, his prison memoirs, two plays, letters, reviews, poems and prose, anecdotes and aphorisms, and a dialogue "with some remarks upon the importance of discussing everything."
I LOVE OSCAR WILDE.

CDs: (here's where it gets good)
Chumbawumba - "Tubthumper"
Friends - "Friends" (television soundtrack)
The B-52's - "Time Capsule"
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones - "Let's Face It"
Letters to Cleo - "Aurora Gory Alice"
The Darling Buds - "Crawdaddy"
The Raincoats - "Looking in the shadows"

I love 90s musiiiiiiiiic.

Yeah, right. So my mother decides we're going to Chincoteague, VA for our vacation this year, staying in this nice little bed and breakfast. I just want everyone to know that Chincoteague, Virginia is SMALLER than Lynchburg and has less to do. Not only that, but the area is really only famous for its wild ponies, all of which have already crossed the river and are no longer here. AWESOME.

Thank god our b&b has wireless internet.

So, now is around the time when most people are receiving their housing assignments, shopping for college, and in general, getting excited about getting the fuck out of their house for the next four years. I know especially here in the south, a lot of people are leaving within the next two or three weeks for college, in the early days of August, and facebook right now is just one big heap of, "WHAT'S YOUR MAJOR?! CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGY? OH MY GOD, MINE'S ASIAN CULTURE SO MEBBE WE'LL HAVE CLASSES TOGETHER LOL."

I am almost ashamed to say that right now, I'm a homeless college student. Yeah, you heard me. I'm the smelly man with long hair and a shabby overcoat that you walk by in subway stations. I swear I'm going to use that money for food, man, not my cocaine addiction. I got what the Freshman Facebook Community of Emerson College has accurately dubbed the "sucker packet." Let me describe what the sucker packet entails, in the order of opening the packet and flipping through the contents:
1. A huge white envelope with a big purple lion that makes you think all of your fragile dreams have come true.
2. A huge neon green flyer that reads, "WELCOME TO EMERSON! Your guide to living on campus at Emerson."
3. A small yellow sheet that defines the residence hall opening and closing dates for fall 2007.
4. A residence hall move-in schedule.
5. A letter that reads: "Due to space constraints and the high demand for on-campus housing, we are unable to finalize all placements at this time. Thus, your specific room assignment and roommate information is not available as of this writing. Housing assignments will be updated regularly throughout the next few weeks and you will be contacted with your room assignment and roommate(s) as soon as possible."

So, while everyone else is hitting the stores with their parents credit cards, giggling with their roommate on their cellular telephone and secretly worrying about whether or not they'll actually be able to stand each other, and facebooking every single person that attends their college, I'm laying on a park bench with a sign that says, "Will Work For A Fucking Room That I Already Fucking Paid For. Thanks A Fucking Lot, Emerson!"

And did I even get to wallow in my own grief over this matter? HELL NO. My parents decided to alleviate my feelings of anger, betrayal, and annoyance by screaming AT EACH OTHER over the matter. My dad's general side consisted of, "What the fuck is this shit? I already paid for a fucking room and they haven't given her a fucking room," while my mother's side consisted of a more, "They're doing the best they can! When you've got 90 extra students and no place to put them, it's hard to get things done under the usual time constraints, but you probably know better, right Bill? Because you're the college expert, right?"**

**Ex. of my mother's passive-aggressiveness. The comment about my father being the college expert is a comment intended to aggravate him, since my mother has been working at colleges for the last 20 years of her life.

I wonder if calling the Housing department and calling them all "lace curtain, pussy motherfuckers" will do me any good. Opinions?

GREECE!!!!!! (Also, Belgium.) (Also also, regular life.)

Text only update. If I feel like it, and if you comment asking me to do so, I might do a highlight picture post, but I'll have to be persuaded.

Here are some jewels from my own documentation of the trip:

7-5-07
On the flight to Dulles for Greece trip, and am sitting behind a foreign woman. Accent sounds Slavic, but I can't be sure. Conversation went something like this:

"I know you have affair with she.
How do I know? She is at my house al the time. You want to go to Brazil with she, you take all my money and buy shoes for she, do you buy anything for me? No.
Do not call me while I'm staying with (insert incoherent name here).
I do not have money to buy food for my children, my CHILDREN, no food. Why do I not have money?! Because you TAKE my money.
Just shut up, you shut up!
(Some word repeated over and over again loudly and angrily)
I HATE you and I hope you die of the AIDS!"

7-7-07
...Drunk tourists, and more importantly, the ones in my tour group, are funny as hell...

After our tour guide explained that warring neighboring kingdoms would often expand their kingdom and unite their people by marrying off their sons/daughters to sons/daughters of the opposite kingdom:

2 Kingdoms Become 1 - Spice Greeks
...2 kingdoms become 1
I need some peace like I've never needed peace before
(wanna join our kingdoms baby)
I had a little kingdom
now I want some more
(wanna join our kingdoms baby)
marry your girl to my son
with the marriage, we'll be one

I thought it was clever.


Highlights of my final Greece overview write-up:

Day 1: Found out 22 of the 30 people in our tour group were all part of a church group. Got antsy about how these church goers would act on the trip. Didn't know that THEY'D be the ones going out and getting drunk every night, plus saying things like, "Fuck the front of the bus!" in a rowdy manner.

Day 2: Made a Greek lady smile today by saying, "Efharisto!" (Thank you in Greek) She was so happy she followed me out of the store saying, "Efharisto!" back.

Day 3: Saw lots of men, young and old, in speedos on the islands today, as well as a blind, multi-talented street performer.

Day 5: Stopped at a winery and drank most wine in history of my life, probably totaled 1 full glass. Decided I hate the taste.

Day 6: Had gotten very friendly with the church group, and developed inexplicably mild obsessions with my adorable, overweight, homosexual tour guide, a handsome 49-year-old, and another guy probably in his 50s/60s. I'm not sure if this would be considered a small-scale Elektra complex or not.


Total list of sites seen in Greece:
1. Athens National Museum
2. Temple of Zeus
3. Hadrian's Gate
4. Oracle of Delphi
5. Stadium at Delphi
6. Arachova
7. Poros
8. Hydra
9. Aegina
10. Epidaurus theatre
11. Nauplion
12. Mycenae
13. Acropolis (Propina, Parthenon, smaller Athenian temple)
14. Temple of Poseidon
15. Romain Agora
16. Ancient Agora
17. Temple of Hephaestus
18. The Plaka
19. Lycabettus Hill

Went to Belgium after that where I fell absolutely in love with the place and the family I was staying with, specifically the father of the family, who was A.D.O.R.A.B.L.E. I would've totally brought him home with me. Also the family in general was pretty awesome, and I would live in Belgium in a heartbeat.

Total list of cities seen while staying in Belgium:
1. Antwerpen (Antwerp)
2. Brussels
3. Amsterdam (in Holland - saw the Anne Frank and the Van Gogh museums)
4. Brugge



In other news, I finished the 7th Harry Potter book in approximately 7.5 hours, and it was so badass. No spoilers, but it was spectacular. So good. Did not enjoy waiting for it in Barnes and Noble at midnight, but enjoyed finally having it in my possession at basically the earliest time I could have. Also, not letting myself readjust to the time change has definitely cost me: I know have a cold in July. IT SUCKS. Also, I'm supposed to get my housing assignment and roommate soon. Here's to not having someone I'll hate!

I leave for Greece tomorrow! AH excitement. 10 days in Greece and 4 days in Brussels (Belgium). I'm going on this Smithsonian tour of Greece with my grandmother, which, to me, means there will be no one else under the age of 30. My sadistically optimistic inner-self is arguing that because of the unliklihood of it all, the absolute most perfect male on the face of the earth will be on this Smithsonian tour, but my sarcastic, cynical outer self (aka most of me) thinks my optimistic inner-self is stupid. And it is.

I won't have my cell phone or my computer with me, but I'm thinking that there's a chance of me being on a computer over the next two weeks, so feel free to leave me comments here, or email me (kirinn@gmail.com) or facebook me or whatever. You can also, if you're just going crazy with missing me, call or text my cell phone, which will be on and charging the entire two weeks I'll be gone. I mean, that'd only be for the people who just cannot live their lives without me--which is no one.

Out of substance from concentrate. Have to go to Kroger and buy more.

...how do you handle stress?


Did you believe that? Even for a split second? Nope, I saw that on a t-shirt of a girl attempting to get into Busch Gardens today. When I saw her 2 minutes later, she was wearing an inside-out t-shirt and whining about the dress code. Busch Gardens was fun; they have a new rollercoaster, the Griffon, and it was very solid. 90-degree drop, 205 feet, 70 MPH, and more after the one drop: I enjoyed it. It was hot and a little crowded, but the lines actually weren't that bad, and I got to ride everything I wanted to ride, plus eat twice my weight at Oktoberfest, plus marvel in the awe that is Irish step dancing (my love for "Emerald Beats" has nothing to do with the fact that most of the male dancers are attractive, and more importantly, the INCREDIBLY talented musicians in it are pretty fine--I'm offended you suggested that).

This has been the weekend with the Hansen family, mother's side, scattering my grandfather's ashes. Thursday, we finally got here after much delay and what I thought was Fate attempting to prevent us from actually getting to my grandmother's house, and that night was spent doing nothing but "hanging out" with my aunt, uncle, and cousins from Texas (other ones, not the ones that were just recently at my house in Lynchburg). Friday, my other uncle and cousins drove up, and I found out that that uncle and his wife had been separated for 10 months. My family doesn't tell me anything. Friday night, we went to see "Romeo and Juliet" at William and Mary as part of the Virginia Shakespeare Festival. Most of the actors were really very good (it IS a professional aka paid "company") and the group of Montague boys--Romeo, Benvolio, Mercutio, Balthazar and Abram--were hilarious. JULIET WAS TERRIBLE. Oh god, it was SO SO SO incredibly annoying. Her "shocked grief" face consisted of her smiling--YES, SMILING--and her histrionics consisted of shrieking and asthmatic sounds. She did the same hand motions OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN and was just terrible. I also "knew" a guy in it--Greg C. Lloyd, who works at CNU and attempted to recruit me at VTA. I didn't like him there, and I didn't like him in the show.

I can't decide if performances like Juliet's makes me incredibly optimistic for my future attempt at making a career out of theatre, or incredibly, incredibly afraid. On one hand, if untalented people are getting paid parts, that should mean anyone sucks less than them should be able to audition and steal it, right? On the other hand, if untalented people are getting parts, it means....untalented people are getting parts. WTF?

Home tomorrow!

So I'm pretty used to my MacBook by now, and no, I will not stop talking about it for the next few months. This is the first time I've ever felt a sexual desire for an electronic, so bear with my infatuation.

Yesterday, Evan, Parisa, Drew, Joy, Marcel, Jon, and Claire and I went on a picnic! (Sorry Emily...you were meeting the president!) It was FANTASTIC. The weather was nice--regardless of the fact that it started thundering, as we all said, ominously once we got there and there were huge flashes of lightening occasionally--and we found this GORGEOUS spot on the rocks in the river where Drew and Parisa and I took artsy/faux-artsy/artsy-faux-arsty photos, people stuck their feet in, AND we got serenaded by what I will from now on refer to as the River Rats. They were not actually rats--that would be disgusting. They were two fairly young, extremely country men who were canoeing a ways down and eventually made their way towards us and then onto a rock facing us approximately 50 yards away from our rock. From far away and still in their canoe, they made their presence known: "Hey! What upppp?" After we were all done marvelling at their attempt to make small talk ACROSS A RIVER, they let their true selves shine: "WHERE DA WEEEEED AT?!"

We proceeded to watch them across the rock, very subtly erupting into laughter every time they moved or spoke. I'm pretty sure they had no idea we were laughing at them. Once the thunder got closer and the dark, looming clouds overhead made us consider leaving, more conversing took place between our convoy and the River Rats. Among other things, they "hooted" and "hollered" at us, offered us drugs of all sorts (weed, crack cocaine, etc.), and yelled indecipherable things (to which I yelled back, "You need to ENUNCIATE!"). Drew and Parisa...of course...stayed longer after the rest of us had departed; Parisa tried to give them her phone number, but Drew thankfully stopped her. The River Rats did, however, inform Drew and Parisa that THEY had the weed (why did they keep asking US about it then?) and it was in their truck at the next pull-off.

We drove by their truck about 10 minutes later; it was a nice truck. These were no ordinary River Rats.

We also saw a sign that said "SCHOOL BUS TURN AROUND" and were puzzled as to whether that meant that school buses could turn around there or that they SHOULD turn around there before going any further. There was also a little log cabin with a huge Confederate flag flying off the porch, a Rotweiller in the yard, lots of random trash/crap scattered about the porch and yard, and two beings--one male, one female--that looked straight out of "Deliverance"; I love the south.

I leave for Williamsburg tomorrow morning until Sunday to scatter my grandfather's ashes and mingle with the cousins/immediate Hansen family. If you know me, you know how much I looooove family time (although I do like most of my cousins) so you feel free to call me/text me, etc. I'm debating whether or not I'm taking my MacBook (which I have yet to name...feel free to make suggestions, although I have a few ideas that involve long, pretentious names and either "The Third" or "Esquire" tacked on the end), but either way, there'll be internet there.

Sooooo. I got a MacBook. It's amazing and beautiful and why does anyone use a PC anywhere?

Summer has begun. Today was my last day of volunteering for Kids In College; I actually miss it already, kind of. I was helping with Imaginative Improve for 3-6 graders, and The Art of Stage Combat for 6-8 graders. Got to work with Geoff Kershner (the son of my director from "Much Ado About Nothing" in the summer of '06, who reminded me that not all directors are inconsiderate assholes, and that some people CAN do good directing while still being a human being!) and he was pretty cool. I love kids, and though there was no pay, it wasn't a bad set-up. I'm considering teaching a class next year ($200 a class, so 2 classes = $400), but I have no idea what I'd teach. Guess I'll jump that hurdle when I get to it.

GOD. This computer is amazing.

I really need to learn money management before I leave for college (along with laundering clothes...), because I burned through a couple hundred in the last week--granted, I didn't blow it on stuff I'm not going to use/wear/etc., but still, a couple hundred dollars?! When I get to Boston, I'm going to be the kid who goes out every night for a week and then has to a) sit in her dorm room the remainder of the month or b) travel only to free events/places and eat in the cafeteria for three weeks straight. Ah, well. I need to get my shit together.

I've also started wondering whether I am terrified of committment. All signs as of late would point to a resounding "Yes!" but I'm not so ready to give in to that thought. It'd be hilarious though: I've been whining--though not in the last few years--about not having a boyfriend and SURPRISE! I don't actually want one?

Told you I wanted to--and would--write more.

Tonight I went to audition at Renaissance for "Barefoot in the Park," which is probably my favorite Simon show. Anyway, I was only going because a friend of mine told me I should, and asked me to so that he knew "there would be at least one talented person to read with," so I went. The show runs late August and September 1st, and I already went in planning not to be cast simply because I think I look pretty young, and usually, it seems like community theatre has enough age-appropriate, moderately talented people to suffice, but I also went in knowing that I would be driving up to Boston on the day of the 1st, which would be closing night of the show.

I rocked the audition. It's a part I've always liked and, as coincidence would have it, a part I spent a little time working on in freshman acting I. Stephen was my scene partner, and tonight we actually READ the middle to the end of the scene he and I did for the class. I read a few times, with a few people who weren't really top of the ladder, but afterwards, the director's wife called me back to talk about my scheduling conflict.

I think they really, really, really wanted me for the part. The director's wife kept saying, "You just read so damn well!" and "Is there no possible way you can be in town the 1st?" and "Well you HAVE to come audition next summer!"

It's a really, really, really annoying scenario. It's a lead role, a part that I like, and a part that I'd do well. It's the first time I've ever really been considered for--much less practically begged to do--an "older" part (and I use older in the softest terms; I'm 18, and Corrie is probably early 20s).

I came home and yelled at my parents to get the frustration out, but, to my credit, I did explain why I was yelling and why I was frustrated before I started. I think they understood. I hate not being able to find a way around this predicament. As I've told everyone thousands of times, I love doing anything in the theatre - bit parts, chorus parts, anything. For me, turning down a lead is like agreeing to have a limb amputated for no reason. Ok, ok, so there is a good reason, I just don't want to admit that. A bit of my mom's comfort was that, "There'll be plenty of parts for you to accept in the future," and I guess she's right. I just feel like if I turn something down, it'll be something that, when I'm poor and living in a big city, auditioning daily between part-time jobs, I'll regret not having done.

I guess, on the other hand, it's good that I feel this miserable about something so insignificant. It means I'm passionate to the point of lunacy, right?

So, I graduated yesterday. After-graduation for me consisted of maturely running down the hallway screaming, "NO MORE HIGH SCHOOL! NO MORE HIGH SCHOOL!" Glad to see that I'm ready to hit the real world as an adult. Sike, college isn't the real world. I am soooo ready to go.

I am ordering my new MacBook today, meaning if it ships out between 4 and 8 days, I should have it in the next week. I am stoked. No more shitty HP Laptop, hooray! I'm looking forward to playing with GarageBand and discovering what "widgets" are, because Evan refuses to tell me.

I am looking forward to summer. Next week I'm volunteering at Kids In College at Sweet Briar. I think I'm helping my community theatre director's son with Stage Fighting. My brother is also in my class. It should be pretty chouette. Besides that, I'm going to Greece and Belgium in July, from the 5th to the 17th (mark that on your calendars so you know when to weep for my absence). I am also really excited about that.

This entry was comprised of meaningless dribble that I am excited about. I felt like I hadn't done a "meaningless dribble that's happening in my life" post in awhile. I'm trying to get back in the swing of livejournaling. Hopefully more meaningless dribble AND substance will come this summer. I need to start writing more about anything, really.

...or until September.

Today was my last day of high school. I have yet to cry; not during the Senior Acting Showcase, not during Baccalaureate, not even alone in my room. I will never have to push past slow people in the hallways ever again. I will never have to see Ms. Bibb's face ever again. Things like this keep me from crying.

We held hands and sang songs/did dances in Mrs. Worsham's class today. I love that woman.

In government, we passed around sheets with hands drawn on them, and people had to write nice things/memories about us in the fingers/on the sheet of paper. Here is what I got:
"-Sarcastic
-Hilarious
-Shuts down Eric (Dolenti)
-Very pretty voice (not sure if he meant speaking or singing...)
-Can make almost anyone feel foolish
-Is occasionally sorry for my rare femininity
-Was the leader of the Pulmonary Circuit
-Well equipped
-Slacked off with me
-Cut open the pig
-Makes fun of me for being emotional
-Is going to school near me
-Very witty and intelligent
-Did our straw bridge together and took it way too seriously
-Went to the G.O. Center together"

All in all, a pretty accurate summary of me, I'd say. Some stuff is inside jokes that I don't feel like explaining, so make up what stories you will behind some of them and spread rumors about me.

I have one exam tomorrow, from 8-10, and then I am done with high school for forever. It feels weird. I hate how things are over but never feel like they're over when they're over. I said over three times in that sentence.

High school was fun. As much as I am not going to miss it, I've enjoyed it while it lasted. I made more of an impact on people than I've realized, and people have made more of an impact on me than I have yet to realize.

I am content with my high school experience. Even stuff that I would've said I regretted not doing or experiencing a month ago, I wouldn't say now. Maybe I've never had a ton of friends or gotten drunk or had a boyfriend. My experiences have all been so much more exhilarating than any kind of mundane, generic experience. I love not feeling regret.

The only thing that makes me sad is that Grey's Anatomy is slowly going to hell. Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?! >:O

( Sarcasm is what I believe in )

Things that have happened recently that I have not updated about:
1) Done with AP tests for forever.
2) Rehearsed for, opened, and closed my last Glass Theatre show ever.
3) Went to court.
4) Won two poetry contests (if you're dying to read the poems, ask me).
5) Sent in my deposit to Emerson.
6) Found out I'm going to Greece and Brussels in July.
7) Lived a cinematic life with cinematic events and relationships (this is the obligatory vague-enough-to-annoy-you one)

So, I got into Emerson and Emerson's theatre program yesterday.
Hello, Boston. Goodbye, Lynchburg.
I'M HAPPY.

I wonder if he ever wishes she were me. I wish I could ask him. Maybe I'm flattering myself too much by even thinking that he thinks of me when he's with her. It's not even that I care about him that much, I think it's more that I want someone to care about me that much. When I'm with him, I take advantage of how much I think he likes me, and I can't tell if the feeling in my stomach is returned affection or an adrenaline rush at feeling like he wants me.

Why does dating make me so nervous, or on a bigger scale, relationships? I'm self-conscious. Dating means no protection; I'm being thrown into the pit with all of my flaws and short-comings. I don't open up to people. I enjoy the made-up personalities of people to their real ones. I reject people at the tiniest flaw if I feel like I'm not 100% head over heels for them. I once stopped "talking" to a guy because of the way he typed. How fucked up is that? Anything that annoys me, I immediately consider it a reflection of their personality as a whole and consequently shut down all of my systems to their access.

I want too many things in one person. Did he contain all those things? I think so. He had one major flaw that I always overlooked because it didn't reflect on him as a person. In loving him, I couldn't love myself, and that was the biggest disappointment of the three years I spent on him. Three years of not loving myself. That's some cold shit.

One time, I went to the movies with a friend of mine and the boy she was trying to set me up with. I'd met him before briefly, and we both knew we were being set up, and I sat next to him. He grabbed my hand at some point in the movie. It was the most uncomfortable 2 minutes of my life. I finally pulled one of those obvious I-don't-want-to-hold-your-hand maneuvers and my palm was sweaty. Maybe that event, which happened when I was a sophomore(?), took its toll on my subconscious. I can't agree to go on a date with someone without feeling like I've promised to care about them, promised to want to be with them. To me, dating = commitment, because the minute I want to "date" someone, my mind sprints for the finish line. Passing glances and an attractive face become moments of dramatic unknown, sarcasm and witty confessions, cinematic kisses with music playing in the background and passion.

What I really need is for someone to smack the shit out of me. I can't function with this hyperactive brain of mine.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and pinpoint where things went wrong, pinpoint an exact time when my subconscious went haywire. My inability to really commit to anyone since him is frightening in itself, but which one of us really messed me up? Every time I get close to something or someone, I trip these alarms in my head and it's like I'm dropped into the Arctic ocean. I freeze up and I sink and I can't do enough to get away from the person. Part of it is conservation. I don't want anyone to get hurt. Sure, I'm protecting myself, but I think I think I'm protecting him--whomever he is--as well. Maybe I don't want to hurt him more than I have to in the beginning. Maybe I don't want to knowingly put someone into an unknowing relationship, when I could save them pain by causing it early on, only a prick with the needle instead of an entire shot that leaves your arm feeling dead and sore.

My imagination tends to run away with itself. I know that tons of people claim to imagine situations all the time; very few people can claim to actually place themselves in those situations, losing all connections with reality for however long these fantasies last, minutes, hours, sometimes days or weeks. I make people up, and that's part of my problem. I take a face I like or a first impression that gets to me and I hit the gas pedal; my car accelerates from 0 to 500 in less than a second. Suddenly he's saying all the right things in my head and his sarcasm and cynical perfection are all too similar to my own and that is not the way things go. I won't deny it: I have a hard time being attracted to people who aren't artistically talented. A boy who can sing will absolutely make me go weak in the knees, regardless of how drab his personality may be in real life. I run with that, too. Everyone's an actor in my head. No person is afraid to do something crazy or say something outrageous to me, all the more a turn on in my minuscule imaginary world.

I have complicated wants. Do I truly detest the cute, mushy things as much as I believe I do, or do I just believe, deep down, that I won't ever get them? Romantic things, depending on their degree, absolutely make my skin crawl. Maybe I want something real, or maybe I just don't want romance as much as I've pretended to in the past. Maybe my standards are exceedingly high. Maybe no one can live up to them. Maybe I just want someone more like me - more intelligent, more witty, less tritely sincere and more realistically flawed. Maybe I want something sexier, darker, less happy and bubbly.

Maybe I'm complicated, and maybe I have no idea how to figure myself out.

So, livejournal. We meet again.
It's not that I've purposely neglected my livejournal; I've often felt like updating. I just never have anything to say, or at least, I don't feel like I do.

Earlier today, I was looking at my very first facebook comments, starting way back in 2005. As I read through them, my initial thought was, "I remember that's what it felt like to have friends."
The weird thing is I don't think I've ever been more well-known or more well-liked before this year. Personally, I think that time just makes all things seem better.


This also just in: I don't know why I want to go into theatre/musical theatre/acting. I'm not talented enough to make a substantial amount of money.

First sentence of every month:
JANUARY! "2006, and I'm happy, but I experienced one of the most painful hugs/hand grasps I think I'll ever feel."

FEBRUARY! "Have you ever felt like laughing, crying, hurling yourself into a wall, sleeping, staying up, letting go, holding on, making a move, backing off, eating, throwing up, giving up, and fighting harder all at the same time?"

MARCH! "So, it was reaffirmed tonight that seriously, I am going to die alone and unloved."

APRIL! "This guy on myspace messaged me, asking me to dinner with this message: would u like to go out to diner or something not as a real date but like something that we can do that we can get to know each other better????? -lane"

MAY! "I wonder if I'm ever going to be able to call someone when I need them."

JUNE! ">:O ANGRY."

JULY! "I don't really have anything of substance to write about."

AUGUST! "I think I am in love with every single member from OK Go."

SEPTEMBER! "Are everyone else's insecurities the dumbest things in the world, or is it just mine?"

OCTOBER! "I've just set up three college interviews, and I've never felt so young in my entire life."

NOVEMBER! "Older guys need to stop being so attractive to me. I'm sorry I've only lived 17 years, what can I do to make that not matter?!"

DECEMBER! "-8 months out of a year, nothing romantically exciting is happening for you."

Wow. This summary is appropriately depressing and whiny, solid proof that livejournal is only used to complain.

-SAVED BY THE BELL SEASONS 1 AND 2 ON DVD HELL YES.
-Sleep Hollow, The Best of Mike Meyers, and Project Runway seasons 1 and 2 on DVD.
-$50 iTunes giftcard (used already)
-$30 iTunes giftcard (used already)
-$25 Starbucks giftcard
-$25 Barnes & Noble giftcard
-Pajams
-Socks! and thermals
-Make-up brush set
-Clock radio/stereo for iPod
-Shirt and necklace from Gadzooks
-Pretty bracelet
-Other miscellaneous items
-College applications....I mean.....