I love not having class until 1:30 on Tuesdays! My roommate, a girl who lives beside us, and I went for a nice walk this morning. We walked about 3 miles round trip on this bike path down in Granville. It was a perfect morning, sunny, but not too warm, and the bike path is a great place for a walk. The trees arch over the concrete path, shading it from the sun, creating a perfect dome over the road. The path is completely straight, so when you look ahead, you see nothing but the arced tree branches and a glimpse of the sky underneath. It's very pretty and will be even more so when the leaves begin to change. The only unshaded part passes a fenced area of about 3 dozen cows, which were crowded together under a tree in the field today. It was a very nice walk and a lot of fun. I was proud of myself for getting up in the morning and doing something instead of just sleeping forever. I think I'll go again on Thursday morning because I only have one class and it's at 2:30. I'd probably go even if I had to go by myself, although it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. I love going for walks. If you're with people, it's a fun way to talk about stuff, if you're by yourself, it's a good way to reflect, but either way it's nice to be outside and it's good exercise, especially since my place of working out from last year is currently unavailable.

I'm so glad I'm not a freshman anymore.

I actually don't have any work to do! It's unbelievable. I've finished everything for tomorrow. Usually I would be reading it during a break between classes, but my plans to be ahead instead of behind are sort of working. But it's only the second day of classes, so I'm afraid to get too excited. That means I can do something fun tonight, like watch a movie or something. There are like 5 girls in my building who are obsessed with the show Saved by the Bell, and they're in shock that I've never seen it before. Between them, they own every season on DVD, and at some point, they're going to force me to watch it. Part of me feels like I'm missing some crucial part of 90s pop culture, like my youth was cut short because I never had a crush on Zach, but the other part of me just thinks it would be really really stupid. I know I'll end up seeing it eventually, but even if it is stupid, I can definitely count on the clothes and hairstyles to be funny enough to make it worth the time.

Well, since I have nothing better to do and can't think of anything else to write about, I might as well read my stuff for Thursday and Friday.

I don't really remember much about the beginning of last year. The time between September and November is pretty much a blur and I can't recall too much of what happened, but from what my mom tells me, I was pretty miserable. I think maybe it's one of those repressed memories where you forget the things that were traumatizing to you. Because of that, I don't really have anything to compare to this year. Despite my fuzzy memory, I can say without a doubt that this year is a thousand times better, at least judging by my first two days. I've been so busy just being social; it's pretty much the only thing I've done since I got here!

It's so good to have people around. If today is any indication of what the year will be like, then I'm sure it will be fantastic. My roommate is so much fun. We spent hours yesterday decorating our room with lights, pictures, and all kinds of colorful stuff. It really looks great, except for the one blank wall we're still working on. Honestly, I've already had more people in this room in two days than I did the entire year last year. The people down the hall are so nice and they're already coming over to hang out. Everyone leaves their doors open and we talk down the hall and from room to room. If anyone knew what my living conditions last year were like, he or she would know that this is a miracle. Last year, the people on my floor wouldn't even say hi, even if you said it first. It's not that they were snobby, they were just antisocial or something. I don't know, I never figured it out.

I spent the whole day talking to people; old friends, people I'd never met before, and people I had only become briefly acquainted with last year. I don't care how many people make fun of the dorm I live in because it's quiet, I really love this dorm this year. There are so many great people on each floor. We're already switching numbers and screen names and chilling in each other's rooms. Practically in one day, I've been more social than I was throughout all of last year.

After dinner, a big group of us went to this place called Whit's where they have this stuff called frozen custard. It tastes just like ice cream to me, but others swear that it's completely different. Despite the fact that it melted really fast and I spilled a bunch of it all over my favorite purse with the green and white flowery design, it was still so much fun. (By the way, Shout wipes are amazing. Thankfully, they got all the ice cream off my purse.) It was awesome just hanging out with so many different people. They're so nice and friendly! All it takes is being friends with one of their friends, and they treat you as a friend. There are so many neat people on campus I'd never met before. I guess that's what you get for being trapped on the corner of the top floor of the quiet dorm your freshman year.

I know that when classes start, I'll be incredibly busy with homework, and all my extra activities, not to mention the fact that I hope to get a job. I know that there will be less time to be social, but today was a great start to really getting to know some great people. I hope it wasn't just a fluke that I had such a great day with people. It felt like I'd known all of them since last year, even if I had only met them today or yesterday.

I'm not really too excited for classes to start, but I'm not really adverse to the idea either. I'm a little anxious to see what I'll be doing, but I know that after awhile, I'll be wishing they were over. The time has come for them to start, and I feel as ready as I'll ever be. After today, I really think that this will be a great year. I'm sure there will be times when I get upset about things and forget how excited I am right now, but that's just the way things are. Always ups and downs; right now is a very high up.

Back on campus. First thought: Ugh, I want to go back home. Second thought occurring 4 hours later: Maybe this isn't so bad. Tired but hanging in there.

I actually meant to unplug my computer and pack it up, but instead talked myself into signing online, which led to looking at my blog, which led to clicking on the "next blog" button at the top-right corner of screen, and after that it was all down hill. I kept on clicking it and read like 10-15 random pages. That's going to be so distracting for me when I should be studying. Anyway, all that reading inspired me write something myself just before my computer is turned off for the first time in over a week.

Here's my random thought: Say you meet someone new and you really want to be friends with that person. I'd say there are multiple levels of friendship, but just to break it down into two, you could classify them as people you know on a surface level that just see the outside you, the part you choose to show others, and the other group of people who really know you, the ones who aren't fooled by any facade you may put on. How does a person move from one group to the other? I guess time would be the best answer. Passage of time, trust, time spent together, and openness on the part of both to get to know each other better. What if there is someone you would like to really get to know the real you, not just the general one everybody knows? How do you go about doing that? Just wait and let time take its toll? What if you take a leap and try to show the person the whole you and they don't seem interested, or worse, reject it completely? What if this person just doesn't care or doesn't want to know or doesn't even try to pretend to be interested? That thought is terrifying. How do you know if someone is really interested or just being polite or only pretending? I guess there's no way to know, not without being able to read people's minds. It sure is maddening trying to figure it out though. Sorry my last post from home was so depressing.

I think what I really meant to say is, is it possible to let someone know too much about you so that it turns them away from you? I don't really expect anyone to answer that.

I should be packing right now seeing as how I have to have everything packed up in the car by Friday before the sun sets, and I don't even have one box full. Just gargantuan-sized piles of clothes and all sorts of other essential college junk stacked a foot into the air all around the living room, dining room, and my bedroom, along with a separate corner of the dining room reserved for a 5 foot stack of empty cardboard boxes. I also have a bunch of laundry to do. But I suppose that's typical, I mean when have I actually been the type to get things done early? (That's a rhetorical question)

I'm so excited to go back to school now. Summer is nice, but there's only so much sitting around and not doing much that a person can handle without becoming restless and antsy (is that a real word, or is it just one of those WV words?). I miss having people around. I haven't gone anywhere with friends or seen any of them in over a month (except one situation which only half counts). I hate spending so much time by myself. It's nice for a few days, but not all the time. I can't wait to be surrounded by people again.

I was so happy after receiving a phone call from one of my friends I hadn't heard from in so long that I thought she didn't like me anymore. Forget everything I said about my friends growing apart and not talking to them anymore and all that stuff. That was just me over-reacting again and freaking out because I think people don't like me anymore, especially people that I've always been very close to. Just because you don't talk to someone for awhile doesn't mean you aren't friends anymore. It just means that you're both very busy or unsure of when to call. I just hate when people leave without saying goodbye.

I wish I was a better conversationalist. When I'm around people I don't know or only sort of know, I can't say anything other than "wow, yeah, that's neat, haha (polite laughter)" and lots of smiling and nodding of the head. A half hour later, I can recall the conversation and think of a dozen clever, interesting, or witty things I could have said, but by then it's too late. I've tried to work on that, but I think that's the way I'll always be. Until I really know someone, I feel like I'm nothing more than a silent robot programmed on "listening intently" mode. I think that would make me the worst blind date on the face of the earth.

I'm elated because tomorrow is my last day of work. I quit Tuesday instead of Friday so I'd have time to pack and take a couple of days off. I wish I had quit a week or two ago, but I needed the money. So only one more day, and I'm free of that place! At least until Christmas break.

I'm starting to get excited about going back to college. Talking to my roommate makes me even more so. My roommate and I are complete opposites, and we know this, so it's kind of funny that we ended up rooming together. I've never been much of a believer in the whole opposites attract thing, but I'm not really worried about it. I think it'll be fun. As long as she doesn't get mad at me for staying up so late.

I have high hopes for the upcoming school year. Then again, I start every school year with high hopes. It isn't until late October/early November that these high hopes dissipate into mediocre hopes. I always start with optimism, which lasts until I get stressed out or worried about things or until there is nothing left to fuel my initial optimism. September and the start of the next school year always feels more like a new year than the actual holiday in January. It's a chance to start over with a new attitude and redo things you didn't like or continue things left incomplete. Last year I felt the need redo things, but this year I just want to continue where I left off. I'm excited to see how things unfold this year, but am most apprehensive about much of the drama that accompanies college. It seems like the simplest things can easily get blown out of proportion. I prefer to stay in my own little bubble world. Despite any of my trepidations, I feel fairly confident that the upcoming year will be better than the last.

What an amazing day in men's gymnastics! I was psyched to watch the men's all-around competition, and was rooting for Paul Hamm to win the gold all the way. Full of ups and downs (literally) and all sorts of unbelievable mishaps, I was not disappointed.

It was a tough competition with scores in the range of 9.7 required to stay in contention for a medal, and after the first 3 events, Hamm seemed to be in decent shape, in first place by a few tenths of a point. Competition was stiff with the determined Chinese champion edging closer and the Bulgarians and South Koreans not far behind. Everything was great for the Americans, especially Hamm, and I felt fairly confident that he could stick it out to the end. That was, up until the disastrous incident on the vault.

Although I've never done gymnastics before, in my opinion, the vault looks a little scary. From a distance, it appears simple, just a little bench in the middle of a long stretch of mat. I can't imagine the skill and confidence it would take to go running full speed immediately into a series of contorted flips and somersaults in midair, then landing on your feet. If it were me, I would start running, then stop just before I reached the spring, thinking "You want me to jump over that? Yeah...right. I'll just climb over it". But that's why I'm not a gymnast.

The vault appears to be a bit of a problem even for professional gymnasts at the Olympics. Paul Hamm was not an exception. After astounding scores on his first three apparatuses, Hamm approached the vault, running at top speed, appearing to have all the confidence in the world. His aerobatics appeared flawless until he approached the floor. I sucked in a mouthful of air and let out a loud, prolonged gasp as I watched him fall over backwards, roll out of bounds, and nearly fall into the judges table. "No no no no no no no no noooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted emphatically. (I'll admit, sometimes I get a little emotional during these competitions.) Everyone was shocked. The announcers, the coaches, the audience, Hamm himself. It seemed as though a mistake that drastic would knock him completely out of medal contention. The look on his face said it all. He was sure he had blown his chance to be the first American to win a gold medal in the men's all-around gymnastics competition. I was so upset I wanted to turn the TV off. But I didn't. I regained my composure and did what any respectable, open-minded person would do. I loudly willed the other teams to fall flat on their faces.

Hamm's blunder opened the door for the Chinese hopeful to win gold, something he had never accomplished and wanted desperately during his last Olympics. I understand that in China, gymnasts are revered to the extent of our professional basketball and football players, so he felt obligated to bring home only the best. Why, him losing the gold would be like our Olympic dream team in basketball not winning any medal or not even making it to the finals! Oh wait, that already is happening. Anyway, I feel as though the Chinese gymnast was a little too obsessed with winning nothing less than gold, adding immense pressure to himself. That may explain his blunder on the high bar. Seeing as how he was now in first place, I wanted him to mess up in order to give Hamm a chance at moving up in the ranks. I kept saying aloud over and over again, "Fall! Fall! Fall! Fall! Fall!" I wasn't expecting it to work, but it did. Evidently, my pleas went back in time and made him miss grabbing the bar, kick his trainer, and eventually be forced to let go of the bar, losing him major major points and giving him no chance at receiving a medal. I'm so evil 0:) Perhaps I have some sort of mystical power, because soon after, the gymnasts from Bulgaria had similar problems, although not quite as severe as the Chinese. Evidently, my powers don't effect Koreans, because they seemed to be the only ones to not make any major blunders (although they still received mostly mediocre scores.)

After a lovely performance by Hamm on the parallel bars, it all came down to his skill on the high bar, considered to be his strongest event. Amazingly enough, with a fairly decent score, it was possible for him to medal. Perhaps not the gold, as I had zealously wanted him to win, but nonetheless, a medal of some sort. After using my powers to cause the other competitors to mess up, I focused all my energy on Hamm, telling him not to mess up, not to fall off, and to do a fantastic job. Of course it was my influence, I mean, it couldn't possibly be that these world-renowned athletes would mess up at the Olympic games, even if it was pre-recorded hours before I watched. So, with a little help from my time traveling psychic abilities, Hamm pulled off a routine on the high bar that he is likely to remember for the rest of his life.

His routine was performed impeccably, without missing a single release, and sticking the landing perfectly. Everyone knew it was phenomenal, but was it enough for the coveted gold? I, along with everyone else watching, waited exuberantly for the results. I was hugging a pillow, hands clasped, fingernails digging into my skin waiting for the verdict. (I told you I get a little excited.) Was this final routine enough to make Paul Hamm the first American to win the men's all-around gymnastics competition? Was it good enough to pull him up from once 12th place all the way up to 1st? Was it possible for a gymnast to make such a serious slipup and still win a gold medal? 9.837! It was! The crowd roared as Hamm was accosted by his coaches, a look of confusion, disbelief, and amazement on his face. He did it! He won the gold by the narrowest margin in the history of gymnastics, 0.012 points! A squeal of excitement burst out of my mouth as I released the pillow and erupted into spurt of applause. History was made in the world of Olympic gymnastics, and I was once again filled with the unequivocal joy of watching someone else's dreams come true.

From this remarkable story comes two important lessons:
1. The cliched aphorism about never giving up, even when the odds seem completely against you and the window of hope seems to be open but a crack, and
2. Don't mess with me, or I will use my time traveling psychic gymnastic altering abilities to ruin your life.

Just for fun, I watched some of the more obscure events in the Olympics today. I wasn't searching for them, I just turned the TV on, and there they were. The final round of shooting, an event I didn't even know existed in the Olympics, caught my attention.

Who thinks of shooting as an Olympic event? It doesn't require the strength of gymnastics or swimming, nor the speed of running sprints, but is taken just as seriously by the athletes who participate. Although it may not be as popular or earn its participants as much fame as those in the more popular events, it obviously requires as much skill, training, and practice as any other sport.

Maybe it's silly, but I was entranced by the ability of these marksmen, able to hit these small flying discs from hundreds of feet away, nearly effortlessly. Watching the little red discs explode into a cloud of red dust, I was in awe, having found a new respect for these men with such keen eyesight and surefire aim.

No Americans made the final, perhaps not even the semi-final, but that was of no importance to me. A man with a name I couldn't pronounce from the United Arab Emirates won the gold, setting a new Olympic record. He was the first person to ever win a medal of any kind for his country. The excitement of his victory was uncontainable to him, and I watched as he laughed and smiled at the crowd, kissing the barrel of his gun and holding it high above his head. He was handed a large replica of his country's flag, which he waved up high in the air before wrapping around his shoulders for a photo. He showed so much emotion in his victory that I couldn't help but smiling and feeling happy for him. Not just happy for him, but happier in general, because, as cheesy as it sounds, when I see other people unconditionally happy, for a moment my own spirits are lifted. I believe this feeling was exaggerated even more because the man was from a country underrepresented in the Olympics, making him all the more proud for his country, and me all the more happy that he was able to accomplish such a feat and show the world that his country was worthy of attention.

Not only was this man's excitement over his gold medal touching, but the display between the top three finalists struck a chord somewhere within me. The silver medalist, a man from India, the bronze winner from China, and the gold medalist, upon the conclusion of the event, gave each other congratulatory hugs. None seemed disappointed by the results. None seemed to harbor hard feelings or narrow-eyed glances, as is the case in some events. Something about these men, all from very different countries with very different ideas, all celebrating together their Olympic victories, equal both during and after the competition and getting along so well, filled me with some combined sense of wonder, admiration, and contentment. Maybe, just maybe, for a fleeting moment, I felt a twinge of that stereotypical beauty pageant ideology of world peace.

If you couldn't tell, I really didn't feel like posting earlier. It's just that it had been awhile and I had a bit of free time, so I wrote stuff down. Then a little later, I got to thinking about some things. A few things that made me a little sad, so I have to sort them out.

Seeing Lisa again was great, but it brought back all sorts of memories of things I'll never be able to do again and people I'll never be able to see together again. It also made me wonder just how long I can hold together these old friendships. Lisa was an amazing friend in high school. I mean, who else in the school besides the two of us cared so little about having a social life that they were willing to give up having a normal lunch period and eat by themselves during a regular class period just so they could make AP English, dual-credit calculus, and show choir fit into their schedule? That's easy - nobody. We went through a lot together besides having our own lunch period, especially in show choir on various trips and competitions and such, so I knew it would be weird without her. Anyway, the other day Lisa said something about how it's great that we have the sort of friendship in which we can go long periods without talking, but still be on good terms with each other and meet up occasionally to chat as if no time at all had passed. I'm very glad about that, but it just makes me wonder how long we can go like that. It's almost inevitable that a time will come when we simply won't call each other at all, and eventually we may never speak again.

It's not just Lisa that concerns me. In fact, she may be the one I'm least concerned with. The thing is, I can already see myself growing apart from a couple of my other friends, some who've been with me for years and years. These are the friends I've counted on the most since the time when it really mattered whether or not you had close friends. We honestly thought we'd always be together our whole lives no matter what happened. It's not like they were far away either, like Lisa was. They were here all summer and hardly made an effort to maintain contact. I know they won't when the school year starts either, and that's what bothers me. I know people get busy with things, but it really doesn't take too much effort to make a simple phone call or short e-mail just to say hey. I tried too, although maybe not hard enough. I did try harder than they did though. I hate to think of losing these people as friends, especially with no explanation, no last phone call. Oh well, now I'm going on and on and repeating myself.

I just have this fear that things will change so much and we will only continue to grow apart and talk less and less. My friends have always been my anchor. When things get crazy and out of control and I feel like I just want to scream, I've always had a friend to call, someone to depend on. What will happen when I lose nearly all the closeness I once had with these people? I suppose by then I will have better friends at college, but even if that does happen, I don't want to lose the friends I already have. My mom always tells me that even today she is better friends with people from her college than from high school. I can't imagine that being the case for me, I mean no one from my college lives within miles and miles of me. There are probably less than 20 people from my whole state at my college. I know that I will get to know people at college better and I'm sure that when it's all said and done I will have some close friends there, but it makes my stomach hurt to think of them replacing my current friends.

I know this is just me latching onto things and resisting change as I so frequently do. I always knew that this would happen someday, I just tried to avoid thinking about it for as long as possible. I know everything will work out okay, it's just kind of sad to think about. *Sigh*, growing up can be so rough sometimes.

At first I felt kind of bad for writing all this because I'm sure no one really cares. Then I realized that this is my page to write whatever I want. So sorry, I don't feel that bad about it.

The Olympics are on now, which is pretty neat. I saw the opening ceremonies, and they were quite a production. The history of Greece represented by people resembling Greek art was rather fascinating, as were the people running/flying above the ground. My favorite things to watch are gymnastics, swimming, and diving. Track and field is okay too. It's just so weird because so many of the athletes are so close my age. When I was younger, they seemed infinitely older than me.

I got to see my best friend from my high school this weekend, one day of the whole entire week she'll actually be home before going back up north to WVU. I hadn't seen her in a year, so I was incredibly excited to see her. We caught up on the generalities of each other's year in about 3 1/2 hours, and it was uncanny how many of the same experiences we had. We had taken many of the same classes, been in the same sort of situations, and had some of the same obstacles. I suppose someone could think I was stupid for being excited that so much of the same stuff happened to both of us, because it is college, and maybe it's pretty much the same everywhere, but I don't want to try to make some big generalization. I was just glad that we still had so much in common and were still so comfortable with each other despite only talking once or twice in the past year.

I despise my job more than anything else on the entire planet. It sucks away my energy and happiness and leaves me an angry, bitter, contemptuous shell lacking even a trace of the once pleasant and agreeble state of mind I strove to maintain. I wish I was quitting a week earlier instead of working right up until the Friday before I leave.

I finally got to see The Village, and it was a bit of a disappointment.

Exactly two weeks from this moment, I will be sitting in my dorm room, probably still in front of my computer. Crazy.

What did the fish say when he hit the concrete wall?







Dam.

Working 8 1/2 hours on 3 hours of sleep is neither logical nor pleasant. It is not something I would recommend to anyone else.

Speaking of sleep, that reminds me of all the interesting dreams I've been having. I'll spare the details, because I think that listening to other people's dreams is pretty boring unless they're exceptionally funny, weird, or they include me in some way. It was just so bizarre that I had two different dreams on the same exact subject two nights in a row. Of course that makes sense because it was something I'd been thinking about much of the day, especially right before I fell asleep. I've found that it's very probable that if you're thinking hard about something right before you fall asleep, then you will have a dream about it, sort of a continuation of what you were thinking while you were awake. My dreams were so interesting because they brought to my attention a few previously subconscious concerns that I never realized existed.

That reminded me of this article a read a couple days ago from Newsweek called What Dreams are Made of. I was excited about the article because dreams have always fascinated me. I've always wondered if they have some sort of real significance, a hidden symbolical meaning just waiting to be deciphered. Maybe figuring out a dream will give you some sort of guidance or direction in your life, perhaps even be prophetic. I don't really believe that, but sometimes it's funny to think about. Anyway, I was rather disappointed by the article because it was mostly about scientific psychological studies, a lot of things I'd already heard before, and ultimately ended with the conclusion that still yet, no one knows exactly why people dream the things they do and what their dreams mean. It did suggest that people who are more introverted and psychologically oriented tend to have more vivid dreams and remember them better than more practical thinkers. I suppose I fit into the former category, so that could be a theory as to why I have so many dreams that I remember so well. Although it makes sense that my mind would be in constant use while I'm asleep. I mean, my mind never ever stops thinking about things over and over again all day everyday, so why should it stop while I'm asleep?

I'm sure my shopping adventures are not the most interesting thing to read about, but oh well. It was tax free weekend, and although I had to work all 3 days of the weekend, I still found time to take advantage of the event. Sunday I was actually lucky enough to get to work a morning shift, after spending weeks working only evenings (which I truly hate!). I love walking to work in the morning because everything is so quiet and peaceful. No cars on the road, no people out walking around. It's like everyone else is asleep and you get the privilege of wandering around seeing your environment in it's natural state. Nothing but the sound of birds chirping, the sight dew on the grass and dripping off the leaves of plants, the mist floating from the tops of the trees to the highest mountains and up into the sky. Morning also has it's own distinct smell. I can't really describe it, but everytime you breathe in, it just smells like morning and nothing else. I love morning walks, especially in the winter (but that's a whole different story). Anyway, this morning I had to open and was running late, so it was more like a morning jog/run than a walk. But I made it there a minute early! I open two more days this week, so I should get a couple of nice walks in.

Since I was lucky enough to get a day shift today, Mom and I drove to the Huntington Mall to go to Old Navy. It's a 45 minute drive or so to the nearest Old Navy that I know of (which is my favorite store for clothes or I wouldn't make such a big deal about it). It's sort of a ritual thing for my Mom and I. We've always planned mother-daughter shopping trips to Huntington, and although it's smaller than the Charleston Town Center Mall, we both like it better. Plus the car ride is half the fun. I think I have the best conversations with my mom, the ones where I tell her everything I'm thinking about, worrying about, or hoping for, occur when we're driving in the car. We usually go there twice a year, once in the summer and once in the winter, and I always look forward to it more than any other shopping trip.

So basically I went crazy shopping there and spent a very large undisclosed amount of money. Actually, my mom spent it, I'm such a spoiled only child about things like that. Then I feel bad because I feel like I should be paying for some of it, but I don't feel bad enough to write my mom a check to make up for part of it, which makes me feel even worse. I love having my parents pay for my stuff, but at the same time feel guilty for not feeling bad enough to force myself to pay for it with my own money. Oh well, I should be happy my parents are so cool about it. I have a feeling if I want anymore clothes I'll have to pay for them myself though.

My other favorite thing about the Huntington Mall is Borders, which I greatly prefer to Books-A-Million. Unfortunately, by the time I finished in Old Navy, I only had 15 minutes (which I turned into a half hour) until Borders closed. I wasn't going to buy anything when I walked in, but then there were books everywhere, and a lot of them were buy one get one 50% off, so how could I resist? I mean, I'm in the middle of about five books right now because I got back into the annoying habit of reading part of a book then starting another one, and I'm afraid I'll end up not finishing any of them this summer. But I had to buy more anyway. So I spent much more in a bookstore than anyone should be able to spend in a 15-30 minute time period. I was also very upset because I hardly had any time to look around. I swear I think I could spend hours in a bookstore and never get bored. I bought more books in hopes of having time to read them once I go back to school, although I'm sure that's a joke with me having two English and two history classes. A girl can always dream, right?

Clothes, shoes, books, and dinner at the Olive Garden. Life can't get much better than that.

By the way, I knew it was a great idea for me to start this page. Why You Should Keep a Journal
I've kept written journals since I was in 7th grade, and they are absolutely hilarious to go back and read. I can't believe the stuff I thought about and the stuff I worried about back then. It was all so silly, and now I laugh out loud everytime I read it. I'm sure in a few years I'll go back and laugh at everything I've written now.

Today was such a wonderful day! I was so nervous because I had to go to the dentist and I thought for sure he was going to make me get my wisdom teeth taken out, but it turns out everything is just great and I don't have to go back. Yay! After that I finally got to go shopping. I've worked all summer and haven't bought anything other than a cd and a book, so I was really itching to spend some money. I spent hours in Target and spent a just barely under $100 and it was wonderful. I absolutely adore Target. I think I could live in one if I had to. I mostly bought stuff for my dorm room because they have the most awesome decorating stuff there. For all that I bought (most of which I could probably have done without, but hey, decorating is the most fun part of living in a dorm. Besides, Nina and I have spent all summer planning on how to have the coolest room on west quad, so I just thought I'd get a head start!) there was twice as much that my mom had to pry out of my hands because it would have been superfluous and probably wouldn't have fit in the room. I could buy the store out of trivial items like small decorative lamps, chairs and cushions, brightly colored storage devices, picture frames, string lights, and worst of all, pillows of all shapes and sizes. I love pillows! And I love decorating! It's so exciting. Anyway, that's pretty much all I did all day, but it was lovely, my first really big shopping trip of the summer. Haha, just wait until I go clothes shopping! That'll be a crazy day! I know I'm excited. :) Plus I don't have to work tomorrow anymore! I traded with someone because I'm so nice. ;) Now I have to work Friday and Saturday night thought. Eh, whatever, it's not like I have much of a social life anymore anyway. Besides, I get more hours that way.

I watched this movie called Ned Kelly today. I'd never heard of it before, but it was new in the movie store so I picked it up. It was about Irish outlaws in Australia during the 1870s. Sound strange? It did to me at first, but turned out to be pretty interesting. This guy, Ned Kelly, was the leader of four Irish outlaws who were running from the police of the British Victorian colonies, but instead of being feared, all the Irish people loved him. He was a crusader for the rights of the Irish living in the British colonies in Australia, sort of a Robin Hood, standing up for the poor Irish against the injustice of the British police (or so it was portrayed in the movie). Poor Irish people. They had trouble being accepted everywhere they went. Well, unbeknownst to me, the movie was based on a true story. There really was a guy named Ned Kelly who did many of those things and he's like a national icon in Australia. There are tons of movies and books written about him and everyone knows about the legend. He's so much of an icon that they even had a tribute to him during the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. Interesting. It's funny the things you don't know and never had any idea existed. It really makes you wonder what other interesting little tidbits are out there.

Happy August!

Sorry, nothing else political to post. Haha, I know how everyone loves that!

overabundance of work+lack of social opportunies=me feeling apathetic toward everything

Sunday I helped my friend pack up, drive away, and move into her dorm to start her RA training. Such a sudden and unexpected move came as quite a shock to both of us. Even though its only 20 minutes away, it's still a little sad. Not because I won't see her anymore, we'll probably see each other just as frequently and I will definitely be over there to spend the night. It was mostly upsetting because it signifies the end of summer. She's the first to go, next weekend several more people are leaving, then the next weekend and following days even more people are leaving, then it'll just be me for awhile until I must pack up and leave as well. Ugh, I hate packing! Oh summer, where have you gone to? Why must you fade away so quickly, like an ice cube melting in the hot sun? I thought I would be much more excited than this to go back. Oh well, knowing me in a week or two I'll be jumping up and down with excitement and anticipation.

As promised, a tribute to our last true evening of summer, a.k.a. what happens when we stay up half the night talking, gossiping, and being goofy, which no one else will probably think is funny because most repeated conversations are not funny unless you were originally there or involved somehow. Oh well, we thought it was hilarious. So ha.

Andrea: He looked like a Hawaiian Eskimo.

Andrea: My whole life my mom has told me that someday we're going to a Chippendale's show.
Me: Hahaha! Mother-daughter bonding over male strippers!

Me: You have the drinks and desserts menu right next to the Bible?!
Andrea: Oops...um...let's put a little more space between those two. (which would be even funnier if it was general knowledge where the menu came from and how it was acquired)

And there was probably more, but I can't remember because I was so tired!

I really really really really really really want to go shopping! That's the best part of going back to school! ;)