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Wednesday, October 31, 2001

I don't know what to do. I'm so conflicted, torn between playing it cool and taking control. Only fear of rejection will keep me from doing something rash. Where does one draw the line? I have no clue.


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Yesterday was such a good day. Looking back, I wish that I could live it over again. Not to do anything differently, but only to experience again the happiness the day offered. I got my hair appointment, I got my package response, and apparently, if the jump rope is correct, I have "got" 35 boyfriends. Yesterday defined joy.

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Monday, October 29, 2001

Suddenly, I feel extremely silly and am really wishing that I hadn't gone to the post office today. Not that there is anything I can do about it now, but I don't know what I could possibly have been thinking.

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My social problems teacher this morning threatened our class with a revised syllabus including pop quizes. I wish I could say that I was sincerely worried about the whole thing, but really, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. There is something about that woman that voids just about any threat she makes. Maybe it's the fact that she looks like she stepped right out of a magazine spread on teens in the 80's/early 90's. Maybe it's because she was wearing the same shirt she has worn four times already in the past few weeks. Maybe it's that I have absolutely no respect for her teaching abilities. Whatever the reason, I am completely unable to take the woman seriously.
I'm thinking about going to RUF music practice tonight. I love to sing, but I have major hesitations about forcing my voice on the whole of RUF. What might sound great in the shower or in the car probably isn't the record quality material I think it is. I guess the question to ask would be, what matters more, how I sing or what I sing? Does an earnest heart cancel out a rangeless voice. I guess we'll find out, won't we?

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I absolutely love this weather. I love the hesitation in the morning to get out of bed and the absolute torture of pulling back the covers and letting the cold air smother your body. I love gloves, and scarves, and little knit caps with the pom pom on the top. I love how most Floridians identify this weather as "near freezing" even though outside it is maybe 60 degrees. Most of all, I love how the chilled wind shooting through my sweater as I ride down the hill reminds me that I am alive and I have a God who loves me enough to give me seasons.

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Sunday, October 28, 2001

I don't know what it is about some people but why are they ALWAYS hell bent on putting me in my place? It's really not necessary. They're not impressing anyone and they really aren't affecting me the way they hope. About the only thing they accomplish is making themselves look retarded.

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Savoring the last few moments of daylight savings.

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Saturday, October 27, 2001

My head needs a mute button.

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Friday, October 26, 2001

Things that make me smile:
1. Nickel Creek
2. The guy who saluted me when I let him pass in front of my car
3. McAllister's Chicken Salad
4. When the announcer comes over the P.A. at Walmart letting everyone know that a customer in intimate apparel needs assistance
5. My cat sitting in the window, waiting for me to come home.
6. This weather
7. The person who has not left my thoughts all day
8. Lunch with good friends
9. My mom
10. Fridays, and even better, paychecks
11. Driving around Gainesville at 12 in the morning just to see where the roads go.
12. Good test grades
13. Terrible test grades
and finally...
14. Good memories with incredible people.


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I wish I were all-knowing. I would love to know what certian people are thinking. Knowing now, even if it is unpleasant, would be so much better than finding out later that I've wasted my time and my heart on pointless endeavors.

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Thursday, October 25, 2001

So, I've spent my night reading other people's blogs. I feel really odd about it, so much less comfortable than I thought I would be about reading along as someone divulges almost everything about themselves. It's like I'm peeking into my sister's diary all over again, that guilty little pleasure that comes in knowing things you aren't really supposed to. Currently, I'm working up the nerve to email one of them. Not that it should take any sort of nerve whatsoever because who am I to them? Still, there's this nervous hesitation in revealing to someone that, "Hey, I know what you are thinking when other people aren't looking." I admire their honesty, I admire the fact that they write without the censorship that I often do, I admire that they handle self-pity so much more eloquently than I. I wish I could be brave.

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I have been trying for a while now to put exactly what I feel into some sort of expressible form. I'll type it out, read it over, and then erase it all because it doesn't even come close to telling you what the tingling in the pit of my stomach feels like. For the first time in over 9 months, I AM HAPPY. It took a while to realize that was what I was feeling because it had been SO long since I was anywhere near that. This fact dawned on me last night as I was sitting at a table surrounded by people I adore. I don't knowwhat it was that brought on the ephiphany, but all of a sudden I realized that I was having a really wonderful time and not faking it for the sake of those watching me. It's so nice to smile and to mean it. It's nice to giggle just because. It's nice to cry because I am so happy rather than because I am miserably sad. For the first time I am focusing on the things that I have and not the things that I lack. Last night, for more reasons than one, was the best night I've had in a really long time. It's a wonder what the right company can do.

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Wednesday, October 24, 2001

I don't think I have ever been so exhausted in my entire life. After a quick nap this morning from 4-9, I got up and suffered through four hours of school, a test, and an intolerable discussion in my Social Problems class. That class is a social problem. I hate that class. You know you're tired when you are walking around school and the only thing you can seem to focus on is the abnormal length of your arms. Mr. Perfect himself could have been professing his undying love to me and I would not have even noticed. I was that tired. So, I'm walking around comparing the length of my arms to everyone elses, and I came to the conclusion that I am the normal one and everyone else has abnormally short and stubby arms. I need a nap..

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PS. Happy Birthday, Chris

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UGH! I hate school, I hate papers, I hate Social Problems, I HATE public housing. I want to go to bed.

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Monday, October 22, 2001

What is it about Freecell? I mean, it has this hypnotic quality to it that is inescapable no matter what you do. I hate to admit to the number of times I have been late somewhere because I keep telling myself, "Just one more game, just one more game." I think my problem might come in that the game is so very polite. It congratulates you when you win, it apologizes when you lose, it asks you if you would like to play again. Sometimes, I keep playing because I don't want to be rude. It would be like not saying "your welcome" after someone else says "thank you." I think my problem might warrant some serious help. What makes me feel really bad about the whole thing is that I have gotten my own mother hooked as well. I think I might have to uninstall it from my computer. But there will just be another game, another problem. Oh dear, it's true, I AM A DORK.

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Friday, October 19, 2001

I just emailed my Reporting teacher my story for this week. Now, I know what you all are thinking, and yes, it is only Thursday night. I have just turned in an assignment early, first time ever. I feel dirty, like I am betraying my slacker roots. Well, fear not fellow procrastinators, I shall return in all of my glory. But for now, I am free to frolic in all the joys that initiative has to offer. I may enjoy my weekend in peace not having to worry about stupid sources and direct quotes. And, just to give you hope that I have yet to leave the ranks of slackers on campuses everywhere, I do have a test on Monday which I am not planning to study for until after the weekend is over. I mean, hey, isn't that what the period before was created for?

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Thursday, October 18, 2001

This is what I woke to this morning running through my head over and over again.

"At the Copa, Copacabana, music and passion are always in fashion at the Copa....they fell in love."

Barry Manilow might have written the greatest song ever written, but Copacabana is not it.

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Wednesday, October 17, 2001

Ok, so, why is it everytime I get around Mr. Perfect I become this enormous DORK. I feel like the stereotypical character you always see in movies and on TV. You know, the person who falls apart the second they get in front of their dream date and the only thing that comes out of their mouth is a pathetic attempt at the English language. That would be me. So remember the whole sometimes-we-click-and-other-times-we-don't conversation. Our most recent encounter was of the not clicking variety. Very frustrating. I think it had some to do with him, but almost everything to do with the fact that I was ooooozing the dork vibe. Oh well. Maybe this will follow suit with the whole movie/TV thing. I'm already in character, maybe the whole the loser wins the guy in the end thing will happen too.

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Tuesday, October 16, 2001

Ok, so you know there is a problem when it is two in the morning and I could be sleeping, but I'm not. In fact I'm more than not sleeping, I'm fuming. What time does Mandy get up on Mondays? Ahhh, yes, that would be 6:45. And what does she do after that? That would be go to class almost continuously until 3 and then she works until almost 7. So, let's do the clock math. That means that Mandy goes non-stop for 12 hours. I don't get a break. I don't get to come home in the middle of my day and goof off. I think I should at least be able to go to sleep when I want to and not have to worry about loud, obnoxious voices waking me up everytime I doze off. Let's just, for once, pretend to pay Mandy some COMMON COURTESY and just this one time follow the rule and have loud people leave when they are supposed to.

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Monday, October 15, 2001

Looking back on the road so far,
The journey's left its share of scars.
Mostly from leaving the narrow and straight.
Looking back it is clear to me that
A man is more than the sum of his deeds
And you made good of this mess I made
Is a profound mystery.

Looking back you know you had to bring me through.
All that I was so afraid of,
though I questioned the sky,
now I see why.

I had to walk the rocks to see the mountian view,
Looking back, I see the lead of love.

Looking back I can finally see
how failures bring humility.
Brings me to my knees
helps me see my need for Thee.

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I don't like the fact that I've realized that everything I want in a husband is sitting right in front of me, and yet he wants nothing to do with it. Maybe there is something that he's lacking, maybe the timing isn't right. Neither of those changes the fact that I would date this person in a second but he still isn't asking. There are times when everything seems to click and fall perfectly into place but then there are those awkward times when he walks right out of the room without even saying goodbye. You might think I'm exaggerating when I say everything, but this guy is literally everything that I want. Even down to the small details that don't mean a flip to anyone else but me. I know that God has his timing. I know that I have talked myself into believing this about so many guys. Something tells me that this is different, though. UGH! Why am I struggling with this so? I feel like there is this deadline to get married, and I am quickly approaching it. I don't know how to change my wishes into quietly trusting God's plan. Not that any of this should matter now. I mean, I'm 20 years old, not 40 or even 60. I have so much time ahead of me, I should not be thinking of this now. But all I know is that from the time I was 5, I honestly believed that I would follow in my mother's footsteps and marry early. I guess all I can do, though, is what I have been: waiting. Someday my prince will come.

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Sunday, October 14, 2001

Why are the weekends always over so quickly? I wait all week for Friday afternoon, but as soon as I turn around it's Sunday night and I am, once again, sitting in front of my computer trying to type out another story. This is the dreaded point of my day. All my efforts go into putting this time off as long as possible, but I can't wait another minute. I have to get this stupid thing done or else I'm dead. Why do classes have to be so hard? Wouldn't it be better for everyone involved to just hang out for four years and then have them hand you a diploma? I certianly think so. I mean, if God has called us to a certian occupation, don't you think he would give us the knowledge of how to perform in that career? I'm kidding, of course, but it would be the best if that was how things really worked. Don't you think? I think so.

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Friday, October 12, 2001

We watched American History X in my Social Problems class today. If anyone knows me, they know that that movie is one of my all-time favorites. Ed Norton gives such a brilliant performance, very real, very powerful. I don't think I can possibly express what that movie does to me. It's not at all like other films, where you watch, you process, you move on. This movie lingers, it leaves a tingling knot in the pit of your stomach that begs you do something and yet you don't know what to do or say. I live for movies, I love the escape from this reality that films provide. American History X is quite possibly the most real movie I have ever seen, yet I find myself completely lost in the characters, in the story. You feel something for the people in this movie, something you can't for any other character. I'm getting carried away, but I LOVE this movie. I think all history, all english, ALL classes should require students to view this film. Anyways, I was just really excited at getting to watch this movie today, so I thought I would share.

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Thursday, October 11, 2001

So, I admit it, I bought the Entertainment Weekly with the Ultimate Viewers Guide to Friends. I couldn't help myself. There I was, standing in line at Publix waiting for the moron in front of me to punch in his pin number 5 times before getting it right and it was like the magazine was begging me to pick it up and read it. And while we're at it, I must also confess to being more than slightly amused while going over the episode guide and remembering all the funnyness, and the laughs, and jokes of eight seasons. What frightened me a little was the fact that I have seen every episode, more than once. What? It's on for like an hour at home everyday! What am I supposed to do? Ignore it? Yah, right. Easy for you to say. But no more talking. President Bush is almost done running his mouth and a brand new episode is coming on. What? Ross finds out he's the father. Like you wont be watching.

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Tuesday, October 09, 2001

Do I have to wear a sign, or won't you just take my word for it: I AM OKAY! I'm not a psycho, I'm not depresssed, I do not need to be locked away in a crazy house somewhere and I have no intentions of offing myself. I am exhausted, though, trying to convince you all that I am fine. Why is it so hard to get people to believe the truth?

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Monday, October 08, 2001

My sister is going to be a model, but I can't even get a date. I have lab in 7.5 hours and a test in 12. My room is a mess and my cat has a unhealthy connection with my arm. Christ gave up his throne to die on a cross for me. I have nothing to complain about.

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Saturday, October 06, 2001

It's good to be home. Nothing beats the feeling that comes from waking up to your dad outside mowing the lawn and mom vacuming up and down the hall. I love this house, I love the people who live in it. This is one place where I will always be welcome. These are the people who don't care if I am fat or skinny, happy or sad. Sweet doesn't begin to describe this. It's good to be home.

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Friday, October 05, 2001

Today I am frustrated. I can't pinpoint exactly one reason why, there are so many things currently that drive me up the wall. Rather, make that so many people. Why is it that everything can be going so well in my life but one thing always comes up that seems to dominate over everything else and drain you of all sorts of energy? I hate that one thing. So, I'm having this problem with someone, just one person, and yet there are so many others involved in the situation. How did they get involved? Why do they have any reason to be involved? Beats me. All I know is that they make everything even more complicated, even more frustrating than the whole thing was to begin with. I'm an adult, and believe it or not, I do know how to handle and resolve my own issues. As "selfish", as "stubborn" as it might be, I'm going to fix this how I want to fix it. You can't change my mind, you can't make me do things differently. Please, stop trying to make me. I know you want to help but you're really not. I'm just as unhappy as the other person, I don't like this situation as much as they don't. I want things to be better. And, though some might believe differently, this is NOT all my fault. They had as much to do with the problem as I did, so don't blame me. You know, I think Cartman put things best when he said, "Screw you guys, I'm goin' home."

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Thursday, October 04, 2001

So, I was reading a magazine supposedly reporting on what is entertaining for the American people and yet they had an article inside about Britany Spears. Apparently, Britany Spears has a feature film, in which she is the star, due to come out in early 2002. Someone please make it stop! For the love of all that is good, please make this girl GO AWAY! You realize that if this film is successful we will have to put up with her for so much longer. What happened to the good old days when fans outgrew the music of people like Tiffany or Debby Gibson?? At least they were smart enough to drop out of the spotlight. Oh well, maybe the film will go bust in post-production. For the sanity of the world, let's hope.

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