I am taking a break from the dishes. It is 1:03 in the morning, and I am taking a break from the dishes. I studied for 3 hours, then went to the dishes to which I have faithfully applied myself for over an hour. And I am only half-way done. Why?
Why am I doing the dishes? I had a moment of recklessness. Some person's Mustang was parked too close to my driveway, when it should have been parked across and down the street. I was in a hurry, and had a moment of recklessness, but you couldn't tell by looking at the outside of the car. NOT A SCRATCH. We found out the owner of this Mustang had a history of car accidents. Many members of his family had quite a history of recklessness or accidents that were "out of their hands." Later, he bills us $872 for "internal damage." Like the good Christian people we are, we accepted the bill without arguement. But not without doubt. I think people should find better places to park their cars. At least he no longer parks it in front of our driveway. He's found someone else to blame "internal damage" on.
But I digress. (wow, that is so cliche it's funny) My parents looked at the bill, and decided it was my fault. Like the good daughter I am, I said, "yes it is my fault, I'm so sorry, I'll be careful for the rest of my life!" I then shrunk into my chair, and awaited the sentence of the judges. Like the good parents they are, they decided punishment was prudent. I should have been grounded from my car. But my mom was too lazy to drive me anywhere. I should have been grounded from my friends, TV, computer, PS2. But my mom didn't like the thought of having me around the house all day. So I got to do the dishes. For the rest of my existance in this house, I get to do the dishes at least 4 days a week. No other child has had a steady dish-doing job, but everytime my mom gets tired, she says "Noelle, go do the dishes." At 11:30 most of the time. When I'm doing my homework.
Why does it take me so long? Well, we have eight people to feed in our house. We have kids that leave frosting messes all over the counter. They paint the kitchen with watercolors, and then it's my job to clean it up. My parents leave dishes from the nights it's not my job "to soak", but then they "soak" just long enough that it's dried and caked on again. "Woops!" they say. It's my problem now. It's also my problem that my mom was too tired to do them the night before, so I've got a double load. It's my problem that my mom uses extra dishes for dinner. It's my problem that the dishes don't all fit in the dishwasher, so I have to wash the rest. It's my problem that we have leftovers that I need to put away. It's my problem that the kids like to dump whole sandwiches into the sink, and watch the soggy bread get all over my hands. It's my problem that my mom likes to put disposal stuff in the wrong sink, so I have to transfer it over to the other sink. But why should she care? It's my problem. Apparently.
It also takes me a long time because I usually try to do a good job. This entails spending 2 hours just trying to fix the absolute catastrophe my mom caused in the cupboard the last time she did the dishes. I don't know how she manages it. Doing the laundry, cooking dinner, (which are pretty much the only household jobs I have ever seen her do) and making the dishes harder for me! Someday I hope to be as good at housework as my mother.
I really do love my mother. Maybe I can blame it all on a chronic illness that I can pretend she has so that I actually want to help more often. Because I have an AP test tomorrow. And my mom had better darn well need the help I'm giving, because it is now 1:22 am and I still have to do the dishes.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Saturday, April 29, 2006
I've decided it's impossible to follow my string of thought
Wow. This week. I've done way more social stuff than I'm used to, and more than I prolly shoudl have, but...I loved it. Every moment. And I milked it for all it was worth. Now? I've got to pay the price for that time. I've got to make up for that lost studying and sleep. *sigh* Why must there always be consequences? And yet...I know why. Nothing would ever be learned, ever be done. hehe Today was a great day. Fantabulous day. I'm doing such a good job! I show just enough to encourage, but not enough to scare away! And I've been understanding, funny (sometimes), and inviting. I can't be this way all the time, but I've been doing pretty darn well when it's counted lately. Hopefully I can keep it up. Because that smile is the only thing motivating me right now. Wow, that's kinda pathetic. But no, what else could get me to do the whole school dealio? I can't wait to be a mom. And yet, I'm so dang scared. So...gosh, I hope I'm not being too vain about this week...prolly am. Still, I've done almost everything right! It's so exciting! WEE! hehe
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Talking to Pickle taught me a lot. By listening to his inverse opinions, I learned a lot about myself and my situation. I actually like where I am right now! Every once in a while it really actually su@$s (hehe "swearing") but on the whole...he makes me happy. He doesn't have to ask me on a date once a week, he doesn't even have to hold my hand. In fact, why would I want him to? Ok, it'd be a totally YAY moment, but then what? It would continue on from there, or it would just fizzle. And I really don't think I'm suited for, or ever would consider a relationship in high school. It messes things up. Right now, I can flirt with everyone. Sure I don't have a date for Prom, but who cares? Ok, so I do a little, right now. But in 10 years...will that even matter? Heck no. And will it matter that I didn't ruin my relationship with him? yes. I will have saved our relationship by not having a "relationship". Wow...doesn't really make sense, but it does. *sigh* he's so adorable.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Si tu m'aime...
Je ne le comprend pas. Je pense qu'il est fou. Il dit qu'il ne m'aime jamais, mais il fait toujours les choses qui me montre qu'il m'aime beaucoup. C'EST TRES DIFFICILE! GAH! oh well. Why even bother trying to understand?
Friday, April 14, 2006
Freedom - An Analysis
THIS IS AN ANALYSIS
I am free from school for nine days. I am free from homework for none. I am to be free from parents for five days. I am to be free from supervision for none. I am free from oppression and free from generalized discrimination. I am not free to do whatever I want. I am not free from annoyances, from trials, from crime. I am free to spend my money how I want. I am free to receive a fair amount of money for my work. I am free to take the opportunity of a public education. I am not free to let that opportunity pass. I am free to learn what and how teachers and the state think fit. I am not free to learn what how and I want. Many of these restrictions are for the better...but some of them should be changed for good. So in comparison to many places and many people, I am free. But am I free? If I make myself free. If I take the restrictions with the freedoms, and if I take advantage of my opportunities to change the world around me. If I actually am a part of my world, and I work toward what I want. I can make myself free from the manipulation of the media, from the addiction of society. I am free...sort of.
I am free from school for nine days. I am free from homework for none. I am to be free from parents for five days. I am to be free from supervision for none. I am free from oppression and free from generalized discrimination. I am not free to do whatever I want. I am not free from annoyances, from trials, from crime. I am free to spend my money how I want. I am free to receive a fair amount of money for my work. I am free to take the opportunity of a public education. I am not free to let that opportunity pass. I am free to learn what and how teachers and the state think fit. I am not free to learn what how and I want. Many of these restrictions are for the better...but some of them should be changed for good. So in comparison to many places and many people, I am free. But am I free? If I make myself free. If I take the restrictions with the freedoms, and if I take advantage of my opportunities to change the world around me. If I actually am a part of my world, and I work toward what I want. I can make myself free from the manipulation of the media, from the addiction of society. I am free...sort of.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Understanding would be good
I hope one day I understand. I hope one day I will know why he loves me one day and hates me the next. I hope someday I understand why I could never let go, even when he was dragging me through broken glass. Sometime I want to understand why we both have to be so stubborn, and pretend we weren't looking. I'm going to comprehend his coldness. I'm going to have empathy for his silence. I'm going to know why he is so good, and yet cannot be a friend. Why can he sit there and cooly let me tell him how much I want to be his friend, and how I want to understand, and I want to help, but I don't know how. And then he says "That can't be any fun." Vague answers full of apathy! That's all I receive for my hours of help, my years of dedicated friendship. Whether he's afraid, resentful, or merely oblivious, I want to be able to be there for him. Still, how can I be there for someone I can't get a hold of? I am probably so vain for thinking how much I deserve from him, and how much he's robbed me of. He talks so often of basic courtesy, being kind to others, but what does he do to me?! He ignores my frequent pleas for friendship. He ignores all communication. Then once, we have a conversation like the old days. Then he goes back to ignoring me! And then, once confronted, "I must have meant you were a new experience." or "That can't be any fun." and then that's the end of it. No friendly discussion, no heart to hearts. Suppose she is right. Perhaps no good deed goes unpunished.
When the day has finally closed,
And so have my weary eyes,
I dream of music not yet composed,
Of villians I don't yet dispise.
Yet most of all through the dark peaceful hours,
I toss and I turn,
I wish and I yearn,
And all senses burn
For that beauty that once had been ours.
True, one can never relive the past.
All that, I know, is gone.
But hope for the future simply can't last
When our dream died at its dawn.
-Eliza Woodhouse
When the day has finally closed,
And so have my weary eyes,
I dream of music not yet composed,
Of villians I don't yet dispise.
Yet most of all through the dark peaceful hours,
I toss and I turn,
I wish and I yearn,
And all senses burn
For that beauty that once had been ours.
True, one can never relive the past.
All that, I know, is gone.
But hope for the future simply can't last
When our dream died at its dawn.
-Eliza Woodhouse
Thursday, April 06, 2006
COOL! WOO! BAND TOUR! It's going to be so fun. I'm so excited. Except. Except. and Except. Ok, other than those, it's going to be the best ever! Wee! Oh well, he won't have(much of) a chance to get to me! I won't let him! ha! I'll show him...ha. lol Oh well. Good friends, good times, good food, good games. I hope. If I can just build a big enough wall...
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
My Nightmare about Prom
Ok, most people have already heard this, but I had a dream several nights ago...a very bad dream...a nightmare, in fact...hehe. Well, most people got asked to Prom, all except a small bunch of people no one expected to get asked anyway (15 year olds, people who hate boys, me, etc.) So, to reitorate, I did not get asked. I was pretty bummed out about the whole thing, but...I decided I wasn't going to let it ruin my life, so I decided to be happy. Until the assembly. They threw an assembly to honor the girls who had been asked to Prom. So they did a bio and a big musical number about the girls who had been asked. But, before the climax, they dragged me onto the stage, sat me on a chair, and made me hold a sign that said "Don't let this happen to you." Then they talked again about how wonderful all those girls were, and then they said, "And what's better, they're not anything like that! (and then all the girls who had been asked simulatneously pointed their fingers at me so the audience could see who they were talking about) She didn't even get asked!" And everyone giggled behind their hands. I held up very well, I think. I only teared up. Until it was over, and then I was allowed to cry. I think most people would.
In Preparation for Prom
THIS IS AN ANALYSIS
I thought it might be funny, so one day I said "Only 32 asking days until prom!" Immediately, at least 3 girls were glaring at me, and one said "Don't you even say that." I apologized profusely, not wanting to be considered a wag. Wow, I did NOT expect to get my head bitten off for a simple comment (especially one meant to be humorous). Why does Prom have such a big impact on people, especially girls?
Prom is fun. Ideally, you get asked by a good friend, or that guy you've had your eye on for a while. Then, you have plenty of time to go shopping around for your dress, shoes, and anything else you stand in need of. The night is beautiful, with dancing, friends, everyone is happy for everyone else despite usual animosity. The boys are gentlemen, all the girls look pretty. And if you put enough into it, you will too. Sometimes it works out better than others, with the time crunch, but either way, you look better than you do at school. Sweet. Why would this have a negative affect?
Obviously, the better the event, the more desire to go! And can a girl go anytime she wants? No! It happens once a year. No! The boys do the asking (unless you're going for the reform). And no one goes stag to Prom. That's just not Kosher. So, anyway, there is a bunch of stress. "Will he ask me?" "Will she say yes?" "WILL ANYONE ASK ME!?" And the closer Prom gets, the less of a chance there is to be asked.
Not only is Prom fun, but it is a way to determine the individual success of a female. Now, it is not recommended to do so, but it happens. "Wow, I didn't get asked. My guy friends must like some other girl more than me. I must not have something the girls that got asked do. What are the possibilities? Too bad I have a major crush on that guy who asked someone else. She must be prettier. Heaven knows she's thinner. She must be smarter, too. She must but more of what people want. I must be someone no one likes quite enough to take to Prom. Wow, I suck." This is not what girls should be thinking, but many of us think this way, and it ruins our self-esteem for a long time. So this is another reason why we simply NEED to be asked!
Now, many girls do not fit this description. Some of these dislike prom for other reasons. Mostly they're just jealous, but some really dislike shopping. Some dislike spending so much time getting ready. Some just hate the stress, and some just hate boys. They dislike the shallow creepiness of girls who say "Guess who asked me?" even though they dislike the boy, and only want to go because it will give them a chance to show off a revealing dress, and themselves being popular.
Do I like Prom? Heck yes! Still, as it approaches, and I still don't have a date...I don't know whether to be excited or to allow my defensive mechanisms to start kicking in...for more info, see the dream above summarized
I thought it might be funny, so one day I said "Only 32 asking days until prom!" Immediately, at least 3 girls were glaring at me, and one said "Don't you even say that." I apologized profusely, not wanting to be considered a wag. Wow, I did NOT expect to get my head bitten off for a simple comment (especially one meant to be humorous). Why does Prom have such a big impact on people, especially girls?
Prom is fun. Ideally, you get asked by a good friend, or that guy you've had your eye on for a while. Then, you have plenty of time to go shopping around for your dress, shoes, and anything else you stand in need of. The night is beautiful, with dancing, friends, everyone is happy for everyone else despite usual animosity. The boys are gentlemen, all the girls look pretty. And if you put enough into it, you will too. Sometimes it works out better than others, with the time crunch, but either way, you look better than you do at school. Sweet. Why would this have a negative affect?
Obviously, the better the event, the more desire to go! And can a girl go anytime she wants? No! It happens once a year. No! The boys do the asking (unless you're going for the reform). And no one goes stag to Prom. That's just not Kosher. So, anyway, there is a bunch of stress. "Will he ask me?" "Will she say yes?" "WILL ANYONE ASK ME!?" And the closer Prom gets, the less of a chance there is to be asked.
Not only is Prom fun, but it is a way to determine the individual success of a female. Now, it is not recommended to do so, but it happens. "Wow, I didn't get asked. My guy friends must like some other girl more than me. I must not have something the girls that got asked do. What are the possibilities? Too bad I have a major crush on that guy who asked someone else. She must be prettier. Heaven knows she's thinner. She must be smarter, too. She must but more of what people want. I must be someone no one likes quite enough to take to Prom. Wow, I suck." This is not what girls should be thinking, but many of us think this way, and it ruins our self-esteem for a long time. So this is another reason why we simply NEED to be asked!
Now, many girls do not fit this description. Some of these dislike prom for other reasons. Mostly they're just jealous, but some really dislike shopping. Some dislike spending so much time getting ready. Some just hate the stress, and some just hate boys. They dislike the shallow creepiness of girls who say "Guess who asked me?" even though they dislike the boy, and only want to go because it will give them a chance to show off a revealing dress, and themselves being popular.
Do I like Prom? Heck yes! Still, as it approaches, and I still don't have a date...I don't know whether to be excited or to allow my defensive mechanisms to start kicking in...for more info, see the dream above summarized
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Wee!!
I'm so excited! I'm so excited to raise my kids, and to clean my house, and to make my husband little presents ^_^ The cleaning and cooking won't be so fun, but it'll be awesome and worth it because of who I'll be doing it for! I'm SO excited!! But a little scared, too. What do I do when my kids fight? Will I be a good enough example? Will I slip into my old ways and be a naggy, annoying wife? And it's so close! In 3 years I could have my first child! I'M FREAKED OUT! But excited! ghghgghghghgh that was my short-circuiting. Wee! that was my excitement. I can't decide! Oh well, might as well start getting ready. Gotta be a great mom!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
North Korea
I just learned about North Korea...it was horrible. Their capital is all a show, where they've built skyscraper hotels and apartment buildings and palaces, but guess what? NO ONE LIVES THERE. There are a bunch of tour guides for the visitors that rarely, if ever, come. It was so creepy. And people that don't cooperate...I don't even want to talk about it. The government doesn't let their people see what happens outside, and they feed them rediculous fairytales about their leaders so everyone thinks they are wonderful, and that they have supernatural powers...Thousands of their children practice 6 hours a day either to perform for visitors, or simply to honor the leader. People are starving, and they build museums about how America has split their country, and how they treated people during the war...all of what they say about America is untrue, but...wow. I had no idea. How can people live like that? How can people just watch people live like that? WHY HAVE WE NOT DONE ANYTHING?!
Monday, March 27, 2006
Ice Skating
I should just ask what I did. Someday. Not now. What to say...what to say....nothing. There's nothing that hasn't already been said. Sad. He is pushing me away...Oh well. Today we went ice skating. I have wanted for a long time to be a figure skater. I know I never will, but it's just so beautiful...the way they glide, and spin, and do leaps so effortlessly. It looks like it feels so good. It just makes you long to be part of it, to create something beautiful...I love skating, and gliding across the ice. It feels great. It's great fun.
lalala
Scott - his 15 year old. Or Anna.
Doug - Rachel
Grant - Annelise
Hannah - Krystian
Kolin - Bree
Bryan - Greer
Tom - Some Asian Princess (she'll prolly make you miserable)
McKay - Bonnie (it was in a dream)
Missy - Josh
Justin - Melissa wow, cool
Caleb - You can marry Kathleen, for all I care
Jex - Britany (sorry, Janae, I know you've liked him forever, but I just don't think you two are...right for eachother)
This is a list of several of my friends, and it includes all the boys I've ever liked, and who I've put them with to marry. Some are thought out, some are blehnesses.
And the rest of you I haven't conjectured yet, don't be mad. And those of you on the list, don't be mad. These are simply what I've come up with, or haven't come up with, and...whatever. Well, yes, I'm not on the list. Ha. Ha ha. ha
wee I should write the last names
Liz/Anna Monson
Rachel Gaufin (hm...could take some getting used to)
Annelise Jones (ooo I like)
Hannah Perez (another get used to)
Bree Anne Harrision (hehe)
Greer Merrill
uh let's name her Shaniqua Heaton
Bonnie Heaton
Missy...uh...
Melissa Benson (oooo)
Kathleen Stone (meh)
Britany Jex (hm...maybe that wasn't the best choice afterall)
Scott - his 15 year old. Or Anna.
Doug - Rachel
Grant - Annelise
Hannah - Krystian
Kolin - Bree
Bryan - Greer
Tom - Some Asian Princess (she'll prolly make you miserable)
McKay - Bonnie (it was in a dream)
Missy - Josh
Justin - Melissa wow, cool
Caleb - You can marry Kathleen, for all I care
Jex - Britany (sorry, Janae, I know you've liked him forever, but I just don't think you two are...right for eachother)
This is a list of several of my friends, and it includes all the boys I've ever liked, and who I've put them with to marry. Some are thought out, some are blehnesses.
And the rest of you I haven't conjectured yet, don't be mad. And those of you on the list, don't be mad. These are simply what I've come up with, or haven't come up with, and...whatever. Well, yes, I'm not on the list. Ha. Ha ha. ha
wee I should write the last names
Liz/Anna Monson
Rachel Gaufin (hm...could take some getting used to)
Annelise Jones (ooo I like)
Hannah Perez (another get used to)
Bree Anne Harrision (hehe)
Greer Merrill
uh let's name her Shaniqua Heaton
Bonnie Heaton
Missy...uh...
Melissa Benson (oooo)
Kathleen Stone (meh)
Britany Jex (hm...maybe that wasn't the best choice afterall)
Saturday, March 25, 2006
YES! This one isn't going to be depressed or angry!
I've been sick for the past two days, that's ok, though, I usually never have problems with health. I got to miss school, so that's happy. But it was the end of the term, so I still had to do hw while I was sick, and other things happened, so now I have bad grades. But that's ok! Yeah, today I felt better, so I did my chores, plus some other things my mom wanted me to do. Then, when I was done, I asked if I could go play, and she said I was too sick! After doing my chores, on top of other things she told me to do. But that's ok! At least I got some chores done! And then at least I had some time to be bored! I almost never get that anymore! I'm glad so many of my friends got to have so much fun, even though I wasn't there. I'm glad my mom is so protective of me! I'm so happy that she didn't let me go, even though I'm not even sick! I'm so happy! I'm especially happy that so many cool boys were there, and that they were all playing my favorite group sport, even though I couldn't be there to enjoy it! I'm SO HAPPY!
Things Change. This is an Analysis.
AN ANALYSIS
Coming rudely into the world with a breath of stale air, a seperate human being.That was a big change, and I wasn't looking forward to any more. At any change of feeling (hunger, pain, indigestion, etc.), change of climate (too hot, too cold, too wet), or change of circumstance (where's my mommy, you freaky 12-year-old sitter?!) I cried. I liked being at a status-quo, and was happy just as long as everything in the world was right.
As a child, change couldn't come sooner. Always longing for the next birthday, constantly wondering when next week was, when I would be older, when we could change rooms, paint something, when we would move, anything. Change was a welcome event. Maybe that's because I didn't like the status-quo. I didn't really like my childhood. Anyway, that changed.
I searched for change until I got it. For most who go searching for change, things change for the worst. I was extremely fortunate, and things changed for the better. After a bit of a plataeu, things changed again. I was confused. Once you find where you want to be, aren't you allowed to stay there?
Well, that outlook changed. I've got a little more of a handle on the concept of constant change, although it's still tough to handle. Now I see that life is going to rush past no matter what I do. I just have to grab whatever growth and memories I can along the way. If only it was that easy, eh?
(sorry, I'm REALLY sick, so this prolly sounds a wee bit dilusional...oh well, haha)
Coming rudely into the world with a breath of stale air, a seperate human being.That was a big change, and I wasn't looking forward to any more. At any change of feeling (hunger, pain, indigestion, etc.), change of climate (too hot, too cold, too wet), or change of circumstance (where's my mommy, you freaky 12-year-old sitter?!) I cried. I liked being at a status-quo, and was happy just as long as everything in the world was right.
As a child, change couldn't come sooner. Always longing for the next birthday, constantly wondering when next week was, when I would be older, when we could change rooms, paint something, when we would move, anything. Change was a welcome event. Maybe that's because I didn't like the status-quo. I didn't really like my childhood. Anyway, that changed.
I searched for change until I got it. For most who go searching for change, things change for the worst. I was extremely fortunate, and things changed for the better. After a bit of a plataeu, things changed again. I was confused. Once you find where you want to be, aren't you allowed to stay there?
Well, that outlook changed. I've got a little more of a handle on the concept of constant change, although it's still tough to handle. Now I see that life is going to rush past no matter what I do. I just have to grab whatever growth and memories I can along the way. If only it was that easy, eh?
(sorry, I'm REALLY sick, so this prolly sounds a wee bit dilusional...oh well, haha)
Monday, March 20, 2006
Comparing the two
So, I've been sounding pretty depressed about the whole guy situation. I don't really feel very depressed anymore! However, there has been a recent development; I hate liking two guys at the same time. I feel...unfaithful, if that makes sense. There is no romance in having a crush on two. So I suppose I must now take the time to look at myself and both of them, and look at the pros and cons (haha sounds perfectly medieval)
Talking to them both at the same time. I like them both for different reasons. One plays to my girlish fancies...an older man (ok, only slightly) who is funny, smart, handsome, sought after, talented and a really good dancer. Oh, yeah, and he can sing. *sigh* He danced with me the other night. Twice. The first time it was a swing, and I said, "Hey! Can you swing?" and he said "Teach me!" so I did, but he danced as if he had known how before...and it was SO fun. Then the second was a slow dance, and I just kinda went with the flow but he danced closer than anyone else I've danced with (and it wasn't anything scandalous, although I must admit it was a wee bit under the Book of Mormon mark...*cringes reflectively*) I think that was when I first started really liking him. It's amazing what one slow dance can do to an impressionable young girl like me...BUT ANYWAY...he talks to me all the time for hours, and he asks advice, and he gives me advice when I ask, and he's so sweet, and he begs me to do solos and he begged me to be in drumline, and he protects me from the dumb seniors who flirt shamelessly (and sometimes a little violently) but have girlfriends of their own, and he called me dear tonight (ok, that probably didn't even mean anything, but I liked it) But there is a complication. He talks a lot about how much he likes this other girl. My friend. Or...at least he did. He still behaves as if he likes her, though. So that leads me to think. Hm. *thinking* Perhaps he's toying with me.
Then the second. I've written about him vaguely for a while. He plays on exactly zero of my girlish fancies, but he does have things that are simply irresistable about him. He's handsome, I've known him for a LONG time, he plays guitar and sings, we talk for hours on end (if I can manage to keep him around anymore...I'll talk about that later) he's smarter than even I realized before, he's wiser than anyone I know, he's perfectly honest, trustworthy, patient, he surprises me everytime I talk to him, he is talented, hilarious, and just so darn cute! Mostly cute in how he acts, how he gives me that look of surprised, incredulous embarassment. How he looks out of the corners of his eyes when he's pretending to be mischievous or sarcastically disapproving. He's cute when he hides behind a fork, or hits a wrong note or misses a hit in ping pong (I think he does it to make me feel better) and makes a little squeal of amused displeasure. He's adorable when he smiles that one smile that's somehow like Gatsby's smile: he understands me but he puts up with me anyway, and he has just enough sparkle in his eye to make me laugh and just enough care in the soft curve of his mouth to make me melt. I love it when he gets excited about the gospel, and we talk about how cool one doctrine or another is. I love how he connects almost everything to the scriptures. He is so steadfast, and so laid back when it comes to people annoying him (he NEVER gets mad) but he gets so worried about being perfect himself, and to make eneryone happy, and to fulfill ALL of his responsibilities. It's great how he teases me every once in a while and it catches me off guard because he's usually so careful to be nice to me. Perhaps not out of the way nice anymore, though. There's the complication. Maybe he does it to keep us both safe. It seems like the sort of noble, valiant thing he would do. Maybe he does it to get me to find someone he would consider better for me. Maybe he just doesn't want me to get my hopes up, just to have them dashed. For whatever reason he distances himself, I cannot accuse him truthfully of being meanspirited, conceited or heartless. He just...isn't, and never has been. So I think I honestly like the first one. Yes, I have a pretty big crush on that first guy. But I just might be falling in love with the second...
Talking to them both at the same time. I like them both for different reasons. One plays to my girlish fancies...an older man (ok, only slightly) who is funny, smart, handsome, sought after, talented and a really good dancer. Oh, yeah, and he can sing. *sigh* He danced with me the other night. Twice. The first time it was a swing, and I said, "Hey! Can you swing?" and he said "Teach me!" so I did, but he danced as if he had known how before...and it was SO fun. Then the second was a slow dance, and I just kinda went with the flow but he danced closer than anyone else I've danced with (and it wasn't anything scandalous, although I must admit it was a wee bit under the Book of Mormon mark...*cringes reflectively*) I think that was when I first started really liking him. It's amazing what one slow dance can do to an impressionable young girl like me...BUT ANYWAY...he talks to me all the time for hours, and he asks advice, and he gives me advice when I ask, and he's so sweet, and he begs me to do solos and he begged me to be in drumline, and he protects me from the dumb seniors who flirt shamelessly (and sometimes a little violently) but have girlfriends of their own, and he called me dear tonight (ok, that probably didn't even mean anything, but I liked it) But there is a complication. He talks a lot about how much he likes this other girl. My friend. Or...at least he did. He still behaves as if he likes her, though. So that leads me to think. Hm. *thinking* Perhaps he's toying with me.
Then the second. I've written about him vaguely for a while. He plays on exactly zero of my girlish fancies, but he does have things that are simply irresistable about him. He's handsome, I've known him for a LONG time, he plays guitar and sings, we talk for hours on end (if I can manage to keep him around anymore...I'll talk about that later) he's smarter than even I realized before, he's wiser than anyone I know, he's perfectly honest, trustworthy, patient, he surprises me everytime I talk to him, he is talented, hilarious, and just so darn cute! Mostly cute in how he acts, how he gives me that look of surprised, incredulous embarassment. How he looks out of the corners of his eyes when he's pretending to be mischievous or sarcastically disapproving. He's cute when he hides behind a fork, or hits a wrong note or misses a hit in ping pong (I think he does it to make me feel better) and makes a little squeal of amused displeasure. He's adorable when he smiles that one smile that's somehow like Gatsby's smile: he understands me but he puts up with me anyway, and he has just enough sparkle in his eye to make me laugh and just enough care in the soft curve of his mouth to make me melt. I love it when he gets excited about the gospel, and we talk about how cool one doctrine or another is. I love how he connects almost everything to the scriptures. He is so steadfast, and so laid back when it comes to people annoying him (he NEVER gets mad) but he gets so worried about being perfect himself, and to make eneryone happy, and to fulfill ALL of his responsibilities. It's great how he teases me every once in a while and it catches me off guard because he's usually so careful to be nice to me. Perhaps not out of the way nice anymore, though. There's the complication. Maybe he does it to keep us both safe. It seems like the sort of noble, valiant thing he would do. Maybe he does it to get me to find someone he would consider better for me. Maybe he just doesn't want me to get my hopes up, just to have them dashed. For whatever reason he distances himself, I cannot accuse him truthfully of being meanspirited, conceited or heartless. He just...isn't, and never has been. So I think I honestly like the first one. Yes, I have a pretty big crush on that first guy. But I just might be falling in love with the second...
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
They're writing songs of love, but not for me...
I guess it's me. I guess I'm just not that girl. I guess I'll just have to suck it up, and accept that there's nothing about me that's attractive. Sure, you can shower me in compliments, sincere or not, but I don't think it's going to help anymore. It cuts too deeply. No matter what group of boys I hang out with (some of which I have the biggest crushes on), I have to sit and listen to them talk about all the girls they like. And whaddya know? None of them are me. And twice...I've been so sure! The first time I was right, but he is unintentionally the cruelest person I have ever known. So that obviously didn't work out for more than a single minute. Then the second time...he held me so tight...I shoudn't have entertained it, but gosh, I have my girlish fancies too! And boy did it feel good...oh MAN did it feel good...but no. I must have imagined it? I don't know! It felt...But then today was...WHO JUST DOES THAT!? *sigh* back to my guy friends. Even on dates. What the heck? The whole time, "yeah, so-and-so is so cute." Am I so horrible that I'm not even to be respected when you ask me out? What am I to you!? I can't blame my guy friends for gushing how much they like this girl or that girl, but no matter how many guys I talk to...it'll always be someone else. And I don't even get asked to dances. What is it about me? I've tried not trying, I've tried trying, maybe I'm trying too hard to not try too hard? I dunno. Maybe I lack grace, beauty, goodness, and all those things that are required...sigh. Well, that's ok. I'll just suck it up. I'll just get over it. I'll just live my own life. I don't need a boy to complete my self-esteem! ha wow...I'm such a liar
Sunday, March 12, 2006
I saw you the other day;
It all went down the same.
We laughed and grinned, but never dared
To even say the other's name.
You wonder why I'm different,
But ignore the things I say.
I have to hide the love I'm feeling
Just to make you stay.
I cry in the shower,
So I can't count my tears.
I plan for tomorrow
And silence all my fears.
Sure it seems pathetic,
But you don't have my view.
So I cry in the shower
And drown all mem'ries of you.
I know I'll never have you
But that doesn't mean I won't try.
I know there's no use chasing
After any other guy.
Yes, you may have used me
And left me here for dead,
Somehow I still can't hate you,
I love you more instead.
So I cry in the shower
So I can't count my tears.
I plan for tomorrow
And oil all my gears.
Sure, I'm lost and listless,
But since there's nothing I can do,
I cry in the shower,
Drowning all mem'ries of you.
I'm building a dam from the bottom up.
I'm drinking from the bitter cup.
Doing whatever I have to do
To rid my mind of the thought of you.
I cry in the shower
So I can't count my tears.
Planning for tomorrow
Doesn't make up for lost years.
It may not help the matter,
But what else can I do?
I cry in the shower,
So I can't count my tears.
Vow to live through one more day,
And hide my troubles from my peers.
There's no use pointing fingers,
Or giving you any clue,
So I cry in the shower
And drown all mem'ry of you.
- Eliza Woodhouse
It all went down the same.
We laughed and grinned, but never dared
To even say the other's name.
You wonder why I'm different,
But ignore the things I say.
I have to hide the love I'm feeling
Just to make you stay.
I cry in the shower,
So I can't count my tears.
I plan for tomorrow
And silence all my fears.
Sure it seems pathetic,
But you don't have my view.
So I cry in the shower
And drown all mem'ries of you.
I know I'll never have you
But that doesn't mean I won't try.
I know there's no use chasing
After any other guy.
Yes, you may have used me
And left me here for dead,
Somehow I still can't hate you,
I love you more instead.
So I cry in the shower
So I can't count my tears.
I plan for tomorrow
And oil all my gears.
Sure, I'm lost and listless,
But since there's nothing I can do,
I cry in the shower,
Drowning all mem'ries of you.
I'm building a dam from the bottom up.
I'm drinking from the bitter cup.
Doing whatever I have to do
To rid my mind of the thought of you.
I cry in the shower
So I can't count my tears.
Planning for tomorrow
Doesn't make up for lost years.
It may not help the matter,
But what else can I do?
I cry in the shower,
So I can't count my tears.
Vow to live through one more day,
And hide my troubles from my peers.
There's no use pointing fingers,
Or giving you any clue,
So I cry in the shower
And drown all mem'ry of you.
- Eliza Woodhouse
Thursday, March 09, 2006
to cry or not to cry
THIS IS AN ANALYSIS
I just love to cry. It makes me feel so much better. It makes me feel somehow justified, it makes me feel right. It makes me feel like I've won somehow. "Ha, now I've cried over you, whatcha gonna do about that, eh?" It's like a medal in some ways. Having truly cried means you've gone through something traumatic. It means that you've accepted it, it means that you've taken at least that step to making things better. Crying makes me more humble. During the time it takes for me to sob my eyes out onto the pillow, I have time to think. I think about people who have it worse than me (of course, that makes me cry harder). I think about why I'm crying, and why that would make me sad enough that I would cry over it. So what if it appears that he uses the most subtle devices of torture to get at me in every direction, and in some directions I didn't even know existed? So what if I feel like I'm disappointing myself and everyone around me? So what if I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life anymore? Why should that affect me? Crying gives me a chance to deeply think about myself, and who I am, and what I'm going to do about it. Crying gives me a chance to say, "I want to give up; I want that more than I want a lot of things. But I'm not going to." Crying gives me a chance to dip into the well of self pity and taste the bitter. Then, I want the sweet again more than ever. I can come out of crying with a better attitude, with a plan, with a purpose. So I'm going to cry. I'm not going to cry in public. But I NEED to cry. Because life isn't about crying. Life is about knowing why you're crying. Life is about taking that, and turning it into something that will make everyone's lives a little less horrible.
I just love to cry. It makes me feel so much better. It makes me feel somehow justified, it makes me feel right. It makes me feel like I've won somehow. "Ha, now I've cried over you, whatcha gonna do about that, eh?" It's like a medal in some ways. Having truly cried means you've gone through something traumatic. It means that you've accepted it, it means that you've taken at least that step to making things better. Crying makes me more humble. During the time it takes for me to sob my eyes out onto the pillow, I have time to think. I think about people who have it worse than me (of course, that makes me cry harder). I think about why I'm crying, and why that would make me sad enough that I would cry over it. So what if it appears that he uses the most subtle devices of torture to get at me in every direction, and in some directions I didn't even know existed? So what if I feel like I'm disappointing myself and everyone around me? So what if I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life anymore? Why should that affect me? Crying gives me a chance to deeply think about myself, and who I am, and what I'm going to do about it. Crying gives me a chance to say, "I want to give up; I want that more than I want a lot of things. But I'm not going to." Crying gives me a chance to dip into the well of self pity and taste the bitter. Then, I want the sweet again more than ever. I can come out of crying with a better attitude, with a plan, with a purpose. So I'm going to cry. I'm not going to cry in public. But I NEED to cry. Because life isn't about crying. Life is about knowing why you're crying. Life is about taking that, and turning it into something that will make everyone's lives a little less horrible.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Do not despair
Easy to say, hard to do. When everything says give up, how can you just say no? Will I find in myself that strength? How deep will I have to dig to find it? Or have I already? Do not despair. There are bigger things at work here, bigger than I can understand. Do not despair. Keep trying, keep finding a little more motivation each day. Continue to try new things, to make new goals, and to DO SOMETHING to improve this period of time called life. Because it's not that long. Still, do not despair. There is a greater force than my own. And it is on my side. So I will not despair. For I have a knowledge that is not of myself. I have a surety that does not come from logic, for all reasoning fails in these instances. I have a strength that cannot be built in a gym, cannot be refined in a psychiatrist's office, and cannot be broken by any amount of explosives. That strength may not be yet strong in comparison to its potential, or even in comparison to the strength of others. But I am going to need it if I'm going to survive. I need it already. I need it if I'm not going to despair.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Time - An Analysis
MR. RICH - THIS IS AN ANALYSIS
What is time?
Hours, seconds, days, and months are all of human creation. Measurements of time, according to the sun and moon. Yet, how can we pretend to measure something so intangible? There is no ruler, no thermometer, no physical way to measure. It is a miracle that the world has become standardized in their measurement, for there is nothing to relate time to. You can say: one liter is the amount of water contained in 100cm3, and that one meter is equal to one ten-millionth of the distance between the poles. However, there is no such way to talk of time. How can you prove that something lasted one hour, when you can only say so out of one or two people's measurements? Repitition of experiments in time are impossible; that time period is gone.
Age is another human measurement, measuring the amount of time one has lived. An estimate of the life experience, and an instant, lasting label. Still, the human body and mind defy age at every turn. Some getting old sooner than others, some remaining youthful in mind and not body, or body and not mind. There is no way to measure experience, depth of thought, ability, maturity, wisdom, or even common sense. So, we measure a person in relation to the number of times the earth has gone around the sun (or the number of times we believe it has) since he or she was born.
There isn't enough time in the day. Have that done by noon. Meet me at 2. Time. I've got time to spare. Can we really have time? Or do we just spend it? We plan to spend time even before we have it, measuring the amount of time we have left in the day, using it like a credit card. We can save time, but that only will do us good if we use that right away. There is no way to earn more time than we are allowed. It is said that time is our most precious resource. I say that the worth of time is not the amount, but its use.
Is there any way to seperate one's mind from the concept of time? In our society, it is rare to spend a day without planning, or organizing our activities parallel to the clock. I'm going to lay in bed all day. I can wait until 3 to do homework. My day is already gone, I'm planning on going to a service project all day. Instead, perhaps we should first think of what we need to acomplish, then let time pass as it will. After all, why worry about something we can't control?
What is time?
Hours, seconds, days, and months are all of human creation. Measurements of time, according to the sun and moon. Yet, how can we pretend to measure something so intangible? There is no ruler, no thermometer, no physical way to measure. It is a miracle that the world has become standardized in their measurement, for there is nothing to relate time to. You can say: one liter is the amount of water contained in 100cm3, and that one meter is equal to one ten-millionth of the distance between the poles. However, there is no such way to talk of time. How can you prove that something lasted one hour, when you can only say so out of one or two people's measurements? Repitition of experiments in time are impossible; that time period is gone.
Age is another human measurement, measuring the amount of time one has lived. An estimate of the life experience, and an instant, lasting label. Still, the human body and mind defy age at every turn. Some getting old sooner than others, some remaining youthful in mind and not body, or body and not mind. There is no way to measure experience, depth of thought, ability, maturity, wisdom, or even common sense. So, we measure a person in relation to the number of times the earth has gone around the sun (or the number of times we believe it has) since he or she was born.
There isn't enough time in the day. Have that done by noon. Meet me at 2. Time. I've got time to spare. Can we really have time? Or do we just spend it? We plan to spend time even before we have it, measuring the amount of time we have left in the day, using it like a credit card. We can save time, but that only will do us good if we use that right away. There is no way to earn more time than we are allowed. It is said that time is our most precious resource. I say that the worth of time is not the amount, but its use.
Is there any way to seperate one's mind from the concept of time? In our society, it is rare to spend a day without planning, or organizing our activities parallel to the clock. I'm going to lay in bed all day. I can wait until 3 to do homework. My day is already gone, I'm planning on going to a service project all day. Instead, perhaps we should first think of what we need to acomplish, then let time pass as it will. After all, why worry about something we can't control?
Friday, March 03, 2006
Suddenly I'm scratched out, suddenly I'm penciled in
I love weekends. They are the best ever. I'm so glad to not have anything to remember. I've been forgetting things left and right...*sigh* I need to get a handle on myself. A nice long weekend with music, friends, laughter, and the Sabbath will help me get my head on straight. Hopefully.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
MR. RICH - Please read
I just wanted to remind you that this blog is not purely my English blog. Most of my blogs are actually for me and my friends...like that poem there. Mostly for me. I guess you can read them if you really want, but the blogs I'm writing for your class have the word Analysis or Analyzing etc. in the title.
Thanks,
The Orange
Thanks,
The Orange
Friday, February 24, 2006
IMPOSSIBLE
Boys are weird. I don't understand them. He...is...IMPOSSIBLE. The more I try to like someone more reasonable, someone who is actually nice to me, the more he pops into my head, and the more I just want to cry because I've got it so bad. If I ever get out of it, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind...I would try to explain it, but I just can't find the words, and I get so angry when I think about it anyway. I want to hate him, but I don't know how...
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Finding Happiness
It never was simple.
There was always something more;
Something else I always wanted,
Desire to settle one more score.
Have I found it yet?
Only a fool would tell you so.
What I've found is something else,
Lessons to learn and time to grow.
I've found good friends,
I've found laughs, smiles, and tears.
I've found a foundation to hold me
To guide, strengthen, and silence fear.
I have found myself
I now know better who I am
My face no longer a smiling facade
My life no longer deceite, a sham.
I've found someone to love
E'en if there's naught in return.
Someone to edify and teach,
E'en if jealousy doth burn.
Of course there's sadness.
Good never comes without strife.
Though I've found bitterness, cruelty, spite,
I smile, for I've found LIFE.
-Eliza Woodhouse
There was always something more;
Something else I always wanted,
Desire to settle one more score.
Have I found it yet?
Only a fool would tell you so.
What I've found is something else,
Lessons to learn and time to grow.
I've found good friends,
I've found laughs, smiles, and tears.
I've found a foundation to hold me
To guide, strengthen, and silence fear.
I have found myself
I now know better who I am
My face no longer a smiling facade
My life no longer deceite, a sham.
I've found someone to love
E'en if there's naught in return.
Someone to edify and teach,
E'en if jealousy doth burn.
Of course there's sadness.
Good never comes without strife.
Though I've found bitterness, cruelty, spite,
I smile, for I've found LIFE.
-Eliza Woodhouse
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Booyah - read it, especially the last 3/4
**Most important parts are colored. Ok, not in dark blue or black
WOOO! Done with the English project! No more Riching for a good week. Maybe the presentation wasn't as imformative or involving as it could have been. But I don't care! I'm done! Now I just have to go to concerto night (ew ew ew ew ew 3 hours on the stage, and I barely play at all, and what I do have to play I have to transcribe in my head. EW) and then I can relax for a while. ooo! Dance. April 22nd. I need songs. Anyone that reads this blog (and anyone that doesn't) needs to send me a list of songs they want played, and maybe any other suggestions. It's going to be in my culdisac, and it's going to be SO much fun. No bad music, no gross dancing, and plenty of fun people, and hopefully LOTS of boys. Even some from other schools. I'm so excited. Very pumped. So, any ideas, send them! And talk to all your friends about it (especially the guys) It's going to be the best ever. Really. Alright, well...I'm happy. I feel all bubbly inside. Good friends, good times, good gracious, I'm going to go. Have fun!
WOOO! Done with the English project! No more Riching for a good week. Maybe the presentation wasn't as imformative or involving as it could have been. But I don't care! I'm done! Now I just have to go to concerto night (ew ew ew ew ew 3 hours on the stage, and I barely play at all, and what I do have to play I have to transcribe in my head. EW) and then I can relax for a while. ooo! Dance. April 22nd. I need songs. Anyone that reads this blog (and anyone that doesn't) needs to send me a list of songs they want played, and maybe any other suggestions. It's going to be in my culdisac, and it's going to be SO much fun. No bad music, no gross dancing, and plenty of fun people, and hopefully LOTS of boys. Even some from other schools. I'm so excited. Very pumped. So, any ideas, send them! And talk to all your friends about it (especially the guys) It's going to be the best ever. Really. Alright, well...I'm happy. I feel all bubbly inside. Good friends, good times, good gracious, I'm going to go. Have fun!
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Analysis of My Future
Wow. I'm assuming an awful lot here. Meaning assuming I won't die or become horribly disfigured, paralyzed, terminally ill, or something else before my future comes along. Still, I have a pretty good feeling that's not going to happen. What do I want to do with my life? Or will I let it remain an unused resource, waiting to take form?
I wanted to be a writer. Since I was eight years old. I felt sure I was going to be a writer. I wrote short stories. Usually the focus was on humor, but I wrote and wrote.
I wanted to be an architect. I felt sure this was my calling. I love to draw, and I love to design. I love architecture, and the physics behind it. Since seventh grade I wanted to be an architect. I drew, and drew, designing and inventing, and studying physics and drafting so I would be ready.
I want to be a musician. Since I was sixteen I've wanted to be a musician. I love music. I feel right when I am making it. I feel like I am finally doing something beautiful, expressing the beauty inside me by letting something beautiful come out. I play and play. I take every chance I get to be part of music, to make it and to listen to others make theirs. Each of my former attempts at prediction have led me to this path.
I still write words, creating worlds, people, and emotion with the English language. But I really want to be a writer, composing the phrases and conversations and stories through music. The rests and downbeats the punctuation, and the use of color and tone to imitate the human voice and to tell a story. I love intertwining melodies, and I love to write parts that fit together, flowing together, but each saying the same thing in a totally different way.
I still draw. I still imagine and create buildings in my head. I still can calculate the physics behind thermodynamics, and metal tension, stone compression, and other things that make up the architect's world. I can draw a building with less than 1/16'' margin of error. But I want to be an architect, building the structure of a piece of music, putting up the frame of the chord progression, and the sheetrock of the phrasing, the roof of the melody, and the paint of the articulation and dynamics. I want to build a home to house emotion. I want the entire world to visit that home, and maybe to keep coming back.
I want to be a musician. I want my music to dance like Wilson, to glide like Michelle Kwan, and paint like Van Gogh. I want to do something beautiful. I want to say what I feel, and I can't say it with words half as well as I can say it through a ballad. I want to learn which intervals make people feel a certain way, and I want to manipulate my audience, and lead them through a vision, an image I will create. I want to be a musician.
I wanted to be a writer. Since I was eight years old. I felt sure I was going to be a writer. I wrote short stories. Usually the focus was on humor, but I wrote and wrote.
I wanted to be an architect. I felt sure this was my calling. I love to draw, and I love to design. I love architecture, and the physics behind it. Since seventh grade I wanted to be an architect. I drew, and drew, designing and inventing, and studying physics and drafting so I would be ready.
I want to be a musician. Since I was sixteen I've wanted to be a musician. I love music. I feel right when I am making it. I feel like I am finally doing something beautiful, expressing the beauty inside me by letting something beautiful come out. I play and play. I take every chance I get to be part of music, to make it and to listen to others make theirs. Each of my former attempts at prediction have led me to this path.
I still write words, creating worlds, people, and emotion with the English language. But I really want to be a writer, composing the phrases and conversations and stories through music. The rests and downbeats the punctuation, and the use of color and tone to imitate the human voice and to tell a story. I love intertwining melodies, and I love to write parts that fit together, flowing together, but each saying the same thing in a totally different way.
I still draw. I still imagine and create buildings in my head. I still can calculate the physics behind thermodynamics, and metal tension, stone compression, and other things that make up the architect's world. I can draw a building with less than 1/16'' margin of error. But I want to be an architect, building the structure of a piece of music, putting up the frame of the chord progression, and the sheetrock of the phrasing, the roof of the melody, and the paint of the articulation and dynamics. I want to build a home to house emotion. I want the entire world to visit that home, and maybe to keep coming back.
I want to be a musician. I want my music to dance like Wilson, to glide like Michelle Kwan, and paint like Van Gogh. I want to do something beautiful. I want to say what I feel, and I can't say it with words half as well as I can say it through a ballad. I want to learn which intervals make people feel a certain way, and I want to manipulate my audience, and lead them through a vision, an image I will create. I want to be a musician.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Bad Mood
How often do I snap at people? Pretty much never. These past two days, though...SAD day (Singles' Awareness Day) is totally understandable for me, because I seem to define my success as a person on how much people include me in things. SAD day, I don't get roses, or balloons, or chocolates, or...ok, I really don't want a steady relationship, but it'd be really nice if all my guy friends didn't just talk about other girls around me. It's like I'm not even there, even when I'm their date! They're great guys, but in that respect it's a little disheartening. I see guys like a certain kind of girl, and even if I wanted to be like that, I couldn't change myself. I want to be myself, and be liked for it. I should be greatful for my AWESOME friends, because I have so many people who rescue me when I need it. I'm not feeling particularly grateful, though. It's not like I don't show any interest in those guys...anyway...Today was also bad. I mean, the whole deciding on a project thing, and then the confusion, the failing the outline, and then the rush to get it done, and then...staying up till 3am doing something that I won't have to present until next week. I just hate it when I do things like this. The worst part, though, is that I have to redo it because it's too long. And now, when I'm stressing over how to make this movie shorter, the one person that gets on my nerves wants to get in and do a presentation with us. Now, we have the same topic. But, he wanted to do his own project, he should do his own presentation. There won't be enough time. Even if I cut my movie in half, There will NOT be enough time to present the topic and both projects. Radish wants to be nice, though, and just can't say no to him, so of course he's up for the idea. It's just not going to work. Besides, I can't see myself working with that other boy. He drives me insane, and the only reason I have been fine with him in the past is because I never have to interact with him outside of that class. Maybe it's just right now. Maybe I'm just taking it all out on him because I don't want to take it out on Radish, and no one else has anything to do with it. So, even worse, when I'm mad, I snap at people, get depressed, and mess up on everything else! So, here I am stressed about one thing, and then that causes a million other things to go wrong, and suddenly people are getting me mad when I'd be perfectly fine with it any other day. I was so fed up with myself and with the situation that I skipped the first few minutes of Jazz Band and just cried. It felt really good. Then, Sanny came and made me feel a lot better. I should take a nap.
Monday, February 13, 2006
That's it!
I don't deserve him.
I don't know why I try.
I don't have any feature
To draw his reverred eye.
I'm done!
I don't deserve him.
I simply don't have the time
To sit, and think, and plan and dream
Of what never can be mine.
No more.
I don't deserve him.
To fire with all false hope
Yet my attempts to cleanse my heart are vain
Like washing with filthy soap.
-Eliza Woodhouse
I don't deserve him.
I don't know why I try.
I don't have any feature
To draw his reverred eye.
I'm done!
I don't deserve him.
I simply don't have the time
To sit, and think, and plan and dream
Of what never can be mine.
No more.
I don't deserve him.
To fire with all false hope
Yet my attempts to cleanse my heart are vain
Like washing with filthy soap.
-Eliza Woodhouse
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Before giving anyone a piece of your mind, make sure you have enough of it to spare
So, today was pretty great. Stake conference was awesome, then we had a party for my wee sister. I had time to relax, and to NOT think about school and...other things. I even got to read for a little while, and have a mancala tournament with my brother. I wrote a song for Radish. I also had french toast for lunch. Isn't that great? yes. I got the pictures back from our pity party, which is awesome in itself! Oh yeah, I haven't blogged about that. Well, in trying to make everyone jealous because we had a party and all they got to do was go to silly sweethearts, we got carried away. We made dates out of cardboard. It was pretty much the funnest thing I've done all week. We even had pictures taken with them just like a real date dance. It was absolutely hilarious. Now I'm going to show all my friends the pictures the same day they get theirs, and I won't feel like such a loser :D Weeeell, I should get goin. I've got a wee bit more relaxing to do.
An Analysis of Varying Reactions
In taking the ACT, and seeing others take it the same day, I was reminded of how differently people respond to the exact same event.
Strawberry prepared using books, online tests, practice tests, friends, and probably other things. Before the test, she had difficulty relaxing enough to get to sleep. Kicky says she didn't study at all, and the day of the test she was calm and looked as if she felt prepared. Alissa studied a moderate amount, taking online tests and practice tests, but the day of the test she was frazzled, saying the tests hadn't prepared her as much as she had needed. I was in the middle. I studied a little with Strawberry, and a little on my own, but right before the test I felt illprepared. During the test, however, I was calm and had little to no stress about the entire situation.
Of course, our personalities caused us to prepare differently and to react differently. Our levels of preparation may have also had an effect, but overall, it was our attitudes.
This applies to almost every situation I can think of. Our personality and previous experiences help us to form our attitude. Our attitude forms our actions and our reactions. Of course, certain attitudes are preferable to others in certain situations, and it is possible to change our attitude.
Strawberry prepared using books, online tests, practice tests, friends, and probably other things. Before the test, she had difficulty relaxing enough to get to sleep. Kicky says she didn't study at all, and the day of the test she was calm and looked as if she felt prepared. Alissa studied a moderate amount, taking online tests and practice tests, but the day of the test she was frazzled, saying the tests hadn't prepared her as much as she had needed. I was in the middle. I studied a little with Strawberry, and a little on my own, but right before the test I felt illprepared. During the test, however, I was calm and had little to no stress about the entire situation.
Of course, our personalities caused us to prepare differently and to react differently. Our levels of preparation may have also had an effect, but overall, it was our attitudes.
This applies to almost every situation I can think of. Our personality and previous experiences help us to form our attitude. Our attitude forms our actions and our reactions. Of course, certain attitudes are preferable to others in certain situations, and it is possible to change our attitude.
Friday, February 03, 2006
An Unorganized Analysis of My Inability to Cope
How does life go like this?! The only possible answer I can come up with is that it's meant to be. It seems that everyone and her dog has an innate desire to torture me!! I'm trying to be good! I'm trying to not be jealous! But no!! What do I have to do?! I've done everything I can possibly think of, and I turn out just like every other girl in the school. Every girl I meet has a crush on him. I admit I'm exaggerating a little, but let me count. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11 that I can think of right on the spot. Why does this torture me? How could they possibly have any effect on me? Their shared "secrets", friendship, and better odds of winning all get under my skin in a way that I may not be able to describe.
These girls take me into their confidence. They tell me I'm their friend. Sometimes I don't want to be. They mostly just want someone to gush to. They go on and on about him, and how cute he is, and how he smiled at them, or what super nice thing he did for them today, how they felt so giggly, and how they're sure that he likes them in return. "Ooo I must be in love with him." Bah! Then they tell me about how their friend likes him too, and how they both are fighting over it. I sit there. I listen. I say things like "aw" and "how cute" and "congratulations". All the while I want to scream. I feel sick, and sometimes I do get physically sick. I think to myself "How dare you? How DARE you speak of him in such a manner? Your disrespect and taking for granted his admiration is sickening, your thoughtless words make him seem shallow, and how do you DARE to imagine yourself with such a person? He is of a caliber far greater than anything you could ever hope to achieve!" It hurts that I can't say anything. They would hate me for it. They would try to make it even more difficult for me than it already is.
For the girls who really are my friends, I give in to their pleas, and I help them. I help them to win him! And they cannot possibly understand how it consumes me, how it burns to the core. I am torn with indecision. Is it better to help my friend, or to save my sanity? They cannot catch me trying to win him. They would think me an unfaithful friend. So I keep quiet. I help them win him. Secretly, though, I still win. Because none of them ever have won him.
Eventually, however, I lose. The odds are good that I lose. 12 bidders (just in my range of knowledge alone). 1 item. I don't have much to offer. I lose. What I do have to offer, I give to my friends to bid. I lose. I lose him. I lose the game, I lose my sanity, I lose half of the reason, the purpose, and who can run on only half their mental and emotional capacities? I think of them, I ask them mentally what makes them so brash as to go for him. I think of myself, and want to dash myself against a wall for thinking myself halfway good enough to be that girl. There is a part of me, however, that thinks I AM good enough. That brings me to the most tortured citizen of my soul.
I am bitter. I am jealous. I could not win. It's all about me, and I gave up my everything to have him. I did for one moment. I had him. But despite my sacrifices, despite all my change of heart, my progress toward perfection, I am still imperfect because I lost him and I'm bitter. I don't deserve him because of the way I am without him. Anyone can be perfect in his presence. I wish I could find it within me to be worthy of him while he's away.
I hate to listen to their gushing. I hate to help them with their games. I hate to think of uncertain future. Must it always end the same? I am a pathetic teenager and I know it! I am immature, with melodrama coming out the lumbago, but I can't get myself to see reason! I can get myself to think "duh, once high school's over, that's it. He goes on his mission, and once he's back, at least one of us will have forgotten the other completely. That's the way this sort of thing always works." I believe it all. I know it all. But there's no getting my emotions to change. I cannot cope. I cannot adapt. Will I simply wallow in selfpity until there's nothing else of me left? I am not entirely sure I will be able to do anything else.
These girls take me into their confidence. They tell me I'm their friend. Sometimes I don't want to be. They mostly just want someone to gush to. They go on and on about him, and how cute he is, and how he smiled at them, or what super nice thing he did for them today, how they felt so giggly, and how they're sure that he likes them in return. "Ooo I must be in love with him." Bah! Then they tell me about how their friend likes him too, and how they both are fighting over it. I sit there. I listen. I say things like "aw" and "how cute" and "congratulations". All the while I want to scream. I feel sick, and sometimes I do get physically sick. I think to myself "How dare you? How DARE you speak of him in such a manner? Your disrespect and taking for granted his admiration is sickening, your thoughtless words make him seem shallow, and how do you DARE to imagine yourself with such a person? He is of a caliber far greater than anything you could ever hope to achieve!" It hurts that I can't say anything. They would hate me for it. They would try to make it even more difficult for me than it already is.
For the girls who really are my friends, I give in to their pleas, and I help them. I help them to win him! And they cannot possibly understand how it consumes me, how it burns to the core. I am torn with indecision. Is it better to help my friend, or to save my sanity? They cannot catch me trying to win him. They would think me an unfaithful friend. So I keep quiet. I help them win him. Secretly, though, I still win. Because none of them ever have won him.
Eventually, however, I lose. The odds are good that I lose. 12 bidders (just in my range of knowledge alone). 1 item. I don't have much to offer. I lose. What I do have to offer, I give to my friends to bid. I lose. I lose him. I lose the game, I lose my sanity, I lose half of the reason, the purpose, and who can run on only half their mental and emotional capacities? I think of them, I ask them mentally what makes them so brash as to go for him. I think of myself, and want to dash myself against a wall for thinking myself halfway good enough to be that girl. There is a part of me, however, that thinks I AM good enough. That brings me to the most tortured citizen of my soul.
I am bitter. I am jealous. I could not win. It's all about me, and I gave up my everything to have him. I did for one moment. I had him. But despite my sacrifices, despite all my change of heart, my progress toward perfection, I am still imperfect because I lost him and I'm bitter. I don't deserve him because of the way I am without him. Anyone can be perfect in his presence. I wish I could find it within me to be worthy of him while he's away.
I hate to listen to their gushing. I hate to help them with their games. I hate to think of uncertain future. Must it always end the same? I am a pathetic teenager and I know it! I am immature, with melodrama coming out the lumbago, but I can't get myself to see reason! I can get myself to think "duh, once high school's over, that's it. He goes on his mission, and once he's back, at least one of us will have forgotten the other completely. That's the way this sort of thing always works." I believe it all. I know it all. But there's no getting my emotions to change. I cannot cope. I cannot adapt. Will I simply wallow in selfpity until there's nothing else of me left? I am not entirely sure I will be able to do anything else.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
For Good
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you.
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew youI have been changed for good
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend.
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
Because I knew you
I have been changed for good
And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for
But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
And none of it seems to matter anymore
Like a comet pulled Like a ship blown
From orbit as it Off it's mooring
Passes a sun, like By a wind off the
A stream that meets Sea, like a seed
A boulder, half-way Dropped by a
Through the wood Bird in the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better.
And because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
I have been changed FOR GOOD.
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you.
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew youI have been changed for good
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend.
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
Because I knew you
I have been changed for good
And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for
But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
And none of it seems to matter anymore
Like a comet pulled Like a ship blown
From orbit as it Off it's mooring
Passes a sun, like By a wind off the
A stream that meets Sea, like a seed
A boulder, half-way Dropped by a
Through the wood Bird in the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better.
And because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
I have been changed FOR GOOD.
Monday, January 30, 2006
LIfe is weird
One jealousy traded for another. An enemy turned into a friend. People who say they get over someone, but we all know the truth. People who don't like who you think they would be most perfect for. Finding hope in the hopeless. Doing better than you expected, but not as well as is expected of you. Seeing through the blindness, and feeling your say out. Loving then hating then loving again. Wanting, not wanting, wanting again. Happiness crushed. Sadness chased away. Wondering if you just might be right. People knowing everything about you, but you know nothing about them. Having a hunch. Acting on it, and being right in one way, but totally messing up anyway. Never quite sure if you're doing the right thing. Never quite sure.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Wow, it's late, and I'm Analyzing
Being stupid. Why is it so much fun? I'm going to try to find out.
Breaking social norms. What could be more liberating? What can make you feel more unique than to do something that no one else does, even if you have to make a fool out of yourself? When you think out of the box, and do something so unexpeted, the reaction of other people brings a feeling of fresh independence and freedom. Rebellion is best when it's socially wrong but not legally wrong. Then, the only consequences are felt by those with low self-esteem (which are usually not the people doing the stupid stuff to begin with)
Laughing with friends. There is no better, more natural feeling. You are around people who accept you, and when you are being stupid, they are being stupid with you, and so you know they aren't just your friend because of your wild intelligence, ha. They are also being rebellious social outcasts with you, so you don't feel left out, but even more included. Besides, seeing the reaction on people's faces is HILARIOUS, or even if the reaction isn't all that great, we make fun of it until it is great. I love being stupid with my friends.
Taking a break from the world. It's a hard world. There are people with good intentions that hurt us sometimes. They are called parents and friends and physical trainers. Good thing they make us happy the rest of the time, and good thing we love them. There are also bad people. These people are trying to hurt us every day. They are called politicians, molestors, the media, and teachers. When you take a break, forget the bad people, and make fun of the good people (all in good fun, so no one gets hurt) it helps to alleviate the stress that was building up, and to give you a better outlook on the stress that's coming up.
Overall, being stupid is a good idea. Well...moderation in all things. Don't be stupid at important times. Don't be REALLY stupid. Don't be stupid too often. There we go.
Breaking social norms. What could be more liberating? What can make you feel more unique than to do something that no one else does, even if you have to make a fool out of yourself? When you think out of the box, and do something so unexpeted, the reaction of other people brings a feeling of fresh independence and freedom. Rebellion is best when it's socially wrong but not legally wrong. Then, the only consequences are felt by those with low self-esteem (which are usually not the people doing the stupid stuff to begin with)
Laughing with friends. There is no better, more natural feeling. You are around people who accept you, and when you are being stupid, they are being stupid with you, and so you know they aren't just your friend because of your wild intelligence, ha. They are also being rebellious social outcasts with you, so you don't feel left out, but even more included. Besides, seeing the reaction on people's faces is HILARIOUS, or even if the reaction isn't all that great, we make fun of it until it is great. I love being stupid with my friends.
Taking a break from the world. It's a hard world. There are people with good intentions that hurt us sometimes. They are called parents and friends and physical trainers. Good thing they make us happy the rest of the time, and good thing we love them. There are also bad people. These people are trying to hurt us every day. They are called politicians, molestors, the media, and teachers. When you take a break, forget the bad people, and make fun of the good people (all in good fun, so no one gets hurt) it helps to alleviate the stress that was building up, and to give you a better outlook on the stress that's coming up.
Overall, being stupid is a good idea. Well...moderation in all things. Don't be stupid at important times. Don't be REALLY stupid. Don't be stupid too often. There we go.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Faults, and ways to overcome them
I'm not being self detrimental. I have faults like the rest of the human race, and by recognizing them I will be able to better combat them. These are the things I think I have the most trouble with.
Vain
Foolish
Judgemental
Dishonest (usually with myself, which is worst)
Thoughtless
Self-centered
Idle
Ok. I might add to this list later, but for now, this is plenty to start working on. I just hope my stupid weakness doesn't come back and make me go backwards instead of forward.
Vain
Foolish
Judgemental
Dishonest (usually with myself, which is worst)
Thoughtless
Self-centered
Idle
Ok. I might add to this list later, but for now, this is plenty to start working on. I just hope my stupid weakness doesn't come back and make me go backwards instead of forward.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
An Epic (sorta)
I gave without thought of return;
It sounds trite, though true.
Did I any deference earn?
I did, but not from you.
I was utterly selfless.
You took it all as naught.
I repulsed darts when you were helpless,
And all your battles faught.
You barely even mentioned
The perils that I faced:
The enemy castles bastioned,
The evil and abased.
You took my good and broke it
As the soft wing of a dove.
I am sorry that I spoke it,
Who can glory just in love?
You've taken my gifts and sold them,
Or left them on the shelf.
If I was ever bold then,
I'd have assaulted you myself.
Do I deserve to be ground in the dirt?
Left for the great black birds?
Did I cause you any hurt?
Give you any but soft loving words?
My pride has awakened
In all its blind rage.
I won't be forsaken,
Nor put in a cage!
You've played with a fire,
Though it was just coals,
You'll see what you acquire
From spurned good souls!
Your negligence kindling
Your mean words the bellows
Your protection is dwindling,
Don't look to your fellows!
They cannot protect you
As I have once done
You'll get just what is due,
And won't it be fun?
Wait, what is that?
A caring smile?
I'm engaged in combat!
Couldn't it wait just a while?
My anger is gone.
My love has returned.
Was I ever cheated?
Was I ever spurned?
I just can't remember,
All I see are your eyes,
I'll wait to dismember,
Put off the goodbyes.
-Eliza Woodhouse
It sounds trite, though true.
Did I any deference earn?
I did, but not from you.
I was utterly selfless.
You took it all as naught.
I repulsed darts when you were helpless,
And all your battles faught.
You barely even mentioned
The perils that I faced:
The enemy castles bastioned,
The evil and abased.
You took my good and broke it
As the soft wing of a dove.
I am sorry that I spoke it,
Who can glory just in love?
You've taken my gifts and sold them,
Or left them on the shelf.
If I was ever bold then,
I'd have assaulted you myself.
Do I deserve to be ground in the dirt?
Left for the great black birds?
Did I cause you any hurt?
Give you any but soft loving words?
My pride has awakened
In all its blind rage.
I won't be forsaken,
Nor put in a cage!
You've played with a fire,
Though it was just coals,
You'll see what you acquire
From spurned good souls!
Your negligence kindling
Your mean words the bellows
Your protection is dwindling,
Don't look to your fellows!
They cannot protect you
As I have once done
You'll get just what is due,
And won't it be fun?
Wait, what is that?
A caring smile?
I'm engaged in combat!
Couldn't it wait just a while?
My anger is gone.
My love has returned.
Was I ever cheated?
Was I ever spurned?
I just can't remember,
All I see are your eyes,
I'll wait to dismember,
Put off the goodbyes.
-Eliza Woodhouse
Saturday, January 07, 2006
An Analyis of Dreams, Goals, and Accomplishment
Glinda the Good said that "Happiness is what happens when all your dreams come true." What is a dream? How does that differ from a goal? Why would accomlishing them make one happy?
The first step to accomplishment is a dream. To dream is something so common, it may even surpass jeans in acceptance. Fantasies and wishful thinking take up about 60% of the average American's brain capacity, leaving less and less room for reality. Being so cosmopolitan, only an infintesimal amount of dreams are taken seriously, even by the dreamer. That means that an even smaller ratio of those fantasies and wishes are accomplished.
This brings us to the second step: a goal. Dreams must be transformed into goals using the magic elixir, commitment. When we bring those dreams into the light decide they would be worth while enough to use time and energy to accomplish them, they become goals. Unfortunately, goals include a colossal gamet of levels of commitment. To think that someday you are going to be an astronaut is a goal just as much as the goal to do 100 situps every night. The differences between dreams that turn into goals and goals that turn into accomplishment are a plan, action, and pereverance.
The finish line is finally reached, and the goal has turned into accomplishment. Usually, this event brings with it an added measure of confidence, a sense of pride in the accomplishment, and a desire to make other accomplishments to add to the collection. However, there are other times when the accomplishment brings the realization that the result did not match up to the expectations of the dream, or perhaps that the accomplishment was one that you should not have dreamed in the first place. Perhaps we must only remember to watch our dreams, that our accomplishments are what we really wanted.
I couldn't be happier
Though it is, I admit
The tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
Well - not "simply":
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of cost
A couple of things get lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still -
With this perfect finale
The cheers and ballyhoo
Who wouldn't be happier?
So I couldn't be happier
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true
Well, isn't it?
This is my 100th post!
The first step to accomplishment is a dream. To dream is something so common, it may even surpass jeans in acceptance. Fantasies and wishful thinking take up about 60% of the average American's brain capacity, leaving less and less room for reality. Being so cosmopolitan, only an infintesimal amount of dreams are taken seriously, even by the dreamer. That means that an even smaller ratio of those fantasies and wishes are accomplished.
This brings us to the second step: a goal. Dreams must be transformed into goals using the magic elixir, commitment. When we bring those dreams into the light decide they would be worth while enough to use time and energy to accomplish them, they become goals. Unfortunately, goals include a colossal gamet of levels of commitment. To think that someday you are going to be an astronaut is a goal just as much as the goal to do 100 situps every night. The differences between dreams that turn into goals and goals that turn into accomplishment are a plan, action, and pereverance.
The finish line is finally reached, and the goal has turned into accomplishment. Usually, this event brings with it an added measure of confidence, a sense of pride in the accomplishment, and a desire to make other accomplishments to add to the collection. However, there are other times when the accomplishment brings the realization that the result did not match up to the expectations of the dream, or perhaps that the accomplishment was one that you should not have dreamed in the first place. Perhaps we must only remember to watch our dreams, that our accomplishments are what we really wanted.
I couldn't be happier
Though it is, I admit
The tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
Well - not "simply":
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of cost
A couple of things get lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still -
With this perfect finale
The cheers and ballyhoo
Who wouldn't be happier?
So I couldn't be happier
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true
Well, isn't it?
This is my 100th post!
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Yay!
I'm writing again! I had a HUGE gap in between, but I'm writing again, mostly because Radish inspired me with his birthday present. It was really cool, it was a wooden pen that he MADE. I felt special to get it. So I'm only on the 13th page, but that's ok, because I have nearly 6,000 words, and for me and my hectic schedule and scattered brain that's really saying something. What's even better is that Strawberry and Radish are me editors. Well, better keep going on it!
Monday, January 02, 2006
List of 40 kinds of sadness
The title before gave me an idea. In order to give myself something to do, and in order to fully prove my disgusting, hopelessness and obsession, I'm going to list those different kinds of sadness. Hopefully I'll be able to think of them all. Ready? These are all the feelings I have when he is not around, when he's off having his White Christmas, not making the least effort to contact me, despite how easy, how natural and right it would be...Things should be different.
1. Without purpose
2. Cheerless
3. Listless
4. Unhappy (obviously)
5. Forlorn
6. Forsaken
7. Dismal
8. Morose
9. Despondent
10. Lugubrious
11. Apologetic
12. Disconsolate
13. Doleful
14. Bereaved
15. Heartsick
16. Lonely
17. Depressed
18. Mournful
19. Indignant
20. Bitter
21. Tortured
22. Tender
23. Resentful
24. Stricken
25. Attritional
26. Tumultuous
27. Passionate
28. Prehensile
29. Crestfallen
30. Envious
31. Vain (I could explain why that was sadness)
32. Sadistic
33. Pensive
34. Importunate
35. Exhausted
36. Frustrated
37. Relinquished
38. Empty
39. Perplexed
40. Afraid
Yay! I did it! And I can even think of more, but I don't think I will extend this list any farther. Enjoy, because I'm going to go test out different contingencies of my future using my trusty simulator. Bye!
1. Without purpose
2. Cheerless
3. Listless
4. Unhappy (obviously)
5. Forlorn
6. Forsaken
7. Dismal
8. Morose
9. Despondent
10. Lugubrious
11. Apologetic
12. Disconsolate
13. Doleful
14. Bereaved
15. Heartsick
16. Lonely
17. Depressed
18. Mournful
19. Indignant
20. Bitter
21. Tortured
22. Tender
23. Resentful
24. Stricken
25. Attritional
26. Tumultuous
27. Passionate
28. Prehensile
29. Crestfallen
30. Envious
31. Vain (I could explain why that was sadness)
32. Sadistic
33. Pensive
34. Importunate
35. Exhausted
36. Frustrated
37. Relinquished
38. Empty
39. Perplexed
40. Afraid
Yay! I did it! And I can even think of more, but I don't think I will extend this list any farther. Enjoy, because I'm going to go test out different contingencies of my future using my trusty simulator. Bye!
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