For the love of God, take me back! Please?!

It was been SOFREAKINGLONG since I last blogged. I meant to take a month-long break and then do BEDA. But obviously that didn't work out... I just constantly make myself seem inconsistent and non-trustworthy. In my defense 4th-quarter calculus is an ugly beast that no senior with a serious case of senioritis should ever have to battle. But I battle I did and victorious I emerged (sort of).

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this blog. I never actually had a plan or strategy so I guess that means don't expect one? Who knows. I cannot promise to remain consistent because I don't want to inadvertently lie to you all. But I will try my best to continue blogging. That may be difficult come fall because I'M STARTING COLLEGE (WOOOOOO! YEAAAAAAH BUDDY!), but I will try.

Too much has happened these past few months to try to catch you all up in one post. I'll hit the highlight quickly: I had various breakdowns involving calculus and an eleven-page research paper. I hibernated from Blogger (obv.) and wasted entirely too much time on Tumblr (link to the right). I grew closer to some friends and distanced myself from others (whine whine cry cry). I went to prom with a big group of friends and a boy who I never really talked to before and still haven't since. I discovered that grinding at school dances is uncomfortable and awkward, and invariably learned how to avoid this dance move (somewhat gracefully). I learned that as I grow older I become slightly more bitter and that time moves way too quickly. I had my last day of high school (EVER) yesterday. I will graduate on Sunday as valedictorian (LOOK AT ME NOW) with four other friends (no we did not cheat, and no our classes are not easy). I realized that what my life lacked was a place to vent, talk about whatever the hell I want without risking friendships, and just be crazy and stupid in general.

To those whose blogs I follow: I will definitely not be catching up on all the posts that I've missed. I'll most likely start reading your posts beginning sometime in April. And to everyone who cares enough to still be reading this: what's hap-hap-happenin'? Remember that this is a place for loving and venting so please do not hold back.

xoKate

What's in a name? That which we call a rose.

I was on my way to lunch with my parents today when I started to think about my friends. I thought about how my friend Jordin started spelling her name like JordIn instead of JordAn. And then I thought about how I have a friend named Jordin. And then I started think about the name and saying it over again and again in my head. Jordin. JOrdin. JorDin. JordIn. And then I started freaking out. Oh my God. I have a friend named Jordin. What the hell.

I think it was just one of those things where you say a word over and over again until the word sounds completely foreign. But for like a split second I wasn't entirely sure that my friend's name was Jordin. Because then I started thinking about all my other friends' names. They all seemed normal. Like, oh yeah, her name's definitely Morgan. Am I crazy? Is there something totally wrong with me?

I like to think I'm not a freak or weird. But, I mean, I doubted the name of a friend/second cousin that I've known for my whole life. Maybe the change in spelling is what freaked me out? However, she's been spelling it like that for four or five years now. It's really not surprising anymore.

Does this ever happen to any of you? I don't mean just when  a word starts to sound not like a word. I genuinely panicked about whether that was her name or not. If not, please say yes. I don't want to be crazy.

*title from Romeo and Juliet

Mae Mobly been a bad, bad girl.

I've been a bad, bad blogger. I don't remember the last time I even read one of the blogs I'm following.... Ughughughugh. I have so much catching up to do. And I'm not even doing it today. I'm just blogging about it so I can feel less guilty by acknowledging my laziness. I don't think my English teacher understands that I have a Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, Tumblr, and blog to maintain. I mean, who does she think she is assigning a 12-source research paper? Jeesh. Please forgive me? I promise I'll be better next time.

Where's the laugh track?

Friday night I attended an overnight thingy at the college I'll be attending next fall. Well, it was actually an overnight for next semester's freshmen who are applying for the honors program. The person I was *supposed* to be staying with was rushing a sorority that night and never showed up. I would have been panicked, but I got to hang out with a couple of my brother's friends. When it was time to go back to the dorms for the night the RA found me a room to stay in.

I go in there, meet one of the roommates and another girl staying there, and everything seems good. They're both nice. We're about to watch The Hangover. The roommate mentions that her roommate is a bit crazy and tells how she fell off the top bunk last night. The girl walks in with one of her friends and I know her. I know her. Great. Because I know her and know what she's like. And I don't like her. She chats for a couple minutes, leaves, and comes back with a group of guys who are also there for the overnight.

The start talking about how they skipped one of the "lame" presentations [how could they know if it's lame if they didn't go to it, stupid] to watch the TKEs get initiated. Now, I have nothing against fraternities or sororities. I have friends and family members who I adore greatly that are/have been in one.In fact, I might join one when I go to college. Who knows. But there's always that fraternity and that sorority which is like how they are portrayed in the movies. So they start talking about how "effing awesome" it was. And every time one of them says TKE [pronounced teek] they start chanting, "TEEK TEEK TEEK TEEK TEEK" over and over and over again. At this point I'm thinking, "Is this really my life? Am I in a sit com?" And complain how they can't go to the party.

This whole time the girl that I don't like is flirting with them, tossing her hair around, standing with her butt sticking out -- the usual.One of the boys mentions that they want to be on the football team. She says, "Well I'm on the dance squad so I'll be sitting right behind you, cheering!" *cue hair tossing and waving of the pom poms conveniently placed on the window sill*

This went on for about ten minutes before the RA, who happens to be one of my friends, saved me. In the end, I stayed in a room with two different girls. I felt bad for the other girl, she seemed really nice, but damn. Her roommate is something else. I mean, I felt like I was in Sydney White or something. I didn't want to be a prude or anything, I have been to parties and been around people like that. But I was not going to be subjected to the ridiculousness of the whole situation for the next nine hours.

Day 24

A picture of something you wish you could change.

I know I've talked about this before so I'll keep it short and sweet. But I wish I could change what happened at homecoming with my friend/date and how I handled the whole thing afterward. I handled the situation all wrong. I hurt his feelings and messed with my own head. I knew how I wanted our relationship to be (friends only) and now I have to admit, like a big girl, that I might have led him on a bit. Not on purpose. I would never do such a thing intentionally. But, nonetheless, it happened. And then I just ignored the whole thing like a big poop. I wish I could change it. But I can't. I've finally dealt with it. And I've also apologized. After the whole thing, I can't say we're friends anymore. Which sucks. However, I knew it would end up like this somehow, someway. Because I don't believe that two people can be friends when one of them has feelings for the other. The only thing I can do is move on and not put myself or anyone else through this whole mess again.

[This picture is from the homecoming game. I didn't want to post a picture of him.]

Disappoint.

You guys. You guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys. My Packers lost. We came into the play-offs with a 16-1 record, so close to the perfect season. And then in the first game we played in the play-offs we lost to the Giants. It was bad. Soooo bad. The receivers just pooped out. The top rusher was the freakin' quarterback! I feel heartbroken. And lost. I want to cry but I can't. I just. I. Ugh. No words. None of them. No more.

Abrupt subject change.

Thanks for the input about e-readers! Now I'm kind of questioning whether I want a Nook or a Kindle. At first I was like 99.99% about a Nook, but now I'm not sure. I'm going to Target tomorrow and possibly Best Buy so I'm definitely going to shop around some. And probably read up on e-readers online. I would say I'm still leaning more towards the Nook.

And now I think I might go have a good, long cry. le sigh. Until next season, I guess...

Liar, liar pants on fire.

There is one type of person in this world that I absolutely cannot stand: posers/try-hards. You know who I'm talking about. Face it, we all have these people in our lives. The girl who goes around at a party saying to guys, "I love hot wings, working on cars, and country music!" For some reason, she thinks that this will instantly make the guy attracted to her. And maybe, occasionally, it does. But what happens when he finds out that a) you only like your hot wings boneless and in BBQ sauce, b) the one thing you can do to your car is pump gas and change your oil, and c) Taylor Swift is the only country you listen to? By that point, he may not care. Good for you. But to that I say, he is obviously not the type of guy worth keeping if he stays with a girl he met based on a lie simply because he likes dat ass thinks she's pretty. [I realize that this is a country-fied version of a try-hard/poser, but you can probably catch my drift.]

I would just like to know what's wrong with this society. How has it reached the point where girls think it's necessary to go around claiming to be something they're not in order to get a guy? I don't think I'm the crazy one here. I would rather be with a guy who's interested in the things I am. Too much time and energy would be wasted on trying to be someone I'm obviously not. Not only that, but I would imagine that things could get boring fast. If you have to fake common interests with someone, that's pretty sad. I mean, if you're only doing this to get with a guy, not have a relationship, fine, whatever. It's your life. Ruin it how you please. It just seems unfair to whomever you're conning.

And I'm not trying to imply that all guys are dumb enough to fall for this stupid little game. In fact, a lot of them will probably catch on pretty fast. Pretty much two minutes into any conversation based on a "common" interest will fall apart. It will be pretty apparent whether or not she knows what she's talking about. But a lot of these guys will go along with it. I mean, hey, she's good-looking, she kind of knows what you're into, and she's good-looking. Shallow is as shallow does. I guess these people need to find each other. I just find it sad. And boring. I can't imagine getting myself into a conversation about cars. As soon as a guy starts talking cars to me I know this conversation is going nowhere good, and fast.

And that's just one of the many types of try-hards/posers that exist in this world. More specifically, the type that I have to deal with pretty much everyday of my life. If you agree with my rant, then you've most likely been picturing a certain person/type. So feel free to comment letting me know who it is that just rubs you all the wrong ways. All of the ways. If you want to rant, I want to listen!

Day 21

A picture of something you wish you could forget.

I wish I could forget this dress. I'm not going to lie, I know I look good in it. I mean, that's why I bought it for homecoming. But to be honest it never even really fit right. The whole damn dance I was constantly hitching that thing up so that I wasn't giving any free peep shows. Plus the poofy skirt was not staying poofy. I had to keep having my friend Morgan fluff it up. Which I eventually gave up on. And to top it all off I paid a somewhat ridiculous amount of money for it. Especially considering the fact that I probably won't ever wear it again. I tried to reason with myself saying that the most I've ever spent on a dress is $80 and it was my last high school homecoming. But I regret it. The one thing I do like about the dress? The extra tulle in the skirt provided an adequate barrier between me and a certain someone who I've mentioned previously. I don't want to talk about it. Yet. There will definitely come a time, probably soon, that I want to talk about it. Because it's ridiculous/hilarious/embarrassing. And for some reason I have this insane need to share all ridiculous/hilarious/embarrassing stories I have about myself. Masochist? Yes. Ashamed? A little. Regretful? Never.

Happy 11/11/11! Make your wish count! [If you believe in that stuff.]

I really just want to be alone at this point.

I think I might have made a mistake. Which would normally be totally fine because I make mistakes all the time. We all do, we're only human. Except it's not okay this time because it involves someone else and their feelings.

You know how some people say that a guy and a girl can't just be friends? That eventually one of them will end up falling for liking the other? I think I've finally come to this realization. You see, I've been pretty good friends with this sophomore boy since last year. We used to be in band together, before I quit, so we got to know each other through all the band stuff. We've hung out with a few times, with other friends present, and text each other. I should have stopped it though. He's told me multiple times that he likes me. Every time I've told him that I don't feel the same way about him. I just want to be friends. After I'd tell him that he would stop texting me, and then start again. I don't know, maybe he thought that some day he would have a chance. I know. I should have stopped it. But we were really good friends.

For a while I honestly did think that we could just be friends. That he'd finally accepted it or stopped liking me that way or something. So when he asked me to go to homecoming with him, I said I would. [Are you cringing yet? I am.] I really didn't think anything of it. Two of his friends were going with mine so I thought we were all going as friends. Now I can see this was not the case at all. The whole night he kept hitting on me. I obviously won't lie to myself, every girl likes to be hit on. But I knew this was going no where. It got to the point where I was just trying to avoid him. I mean, it was my senior homecoming, I really just wanted to dance and have a good time with my friends.

This whole time I've never wanted to be with him. There's no iffy feelings or maybe possibly I do. Trust me on this, when you know, you know. He keeps saying we should hang out sometime. He also keeps tweeting about it. Which kind of peeves me because I hate when other people know about my business without me offering it. I feel horrible about the whole thing. I never wanted to hurt him, I still don't. But I'm thinking that I have to tell him we can't even be friends anymore. It's just not possible. There's no way to do this without hurting him or making his friends hate me. Besides actually being with him, which isn't an option. I'm not going to lie to myself, him, and everyone else. In the end, that would hurt more than cutting it off now would.

I hate this feeling of regret and guiltiness. I hate how one person can make you feel so awful. I hate knowing it's mostly my fault. And I especially hate having to be the bad guy and do the dirty work.

Breakin' the Law

Last Wednesday. Ho-hum. Ever had one of those days where you look back and say, "If I had done this one little thing my day would have been ten times better." Or perhaps, " If I hadn't done this one thing I could have avoided a catastrophe mistake." Well that's how last Wednesday went for me.

It was a dark and stormy night... Okay, not so much. Actually, it was a normal day. So normal, that I really can't recall much of anything that happened that day. Or maybe this one incident just over-shadows everything else. I suppose I woke up, went to school, came home from school... And got a speeding ticket. Yep, my first ever.

The neighborhood I live in is surrounded by a golf course. Not good. I hate the golfers. For some reason they think they're all hot and stuff and can do whatever pleases them. For the purposes of this post, please refer to the drawing I have beautifully created.

 The horizontal street you see is the street I, and most of my friends in my neighborhood, take to get to and from school. Originally there was supposed to be an underground tunnel that connected both sides of the golf course underneath the street. However, due to poor planning on the park district's part, there was nay money to fund such a fairytale. Then they proposed closing the street altogether so the pretty little golfers could safely cross the street on their fatmobiles golf carts. Big no-no from the city. Instead, they put up a speed limit of 25 mph along about half of the street. The speed limit on the rest of the street is 40 mph, just as it has been for as long as I can remember. [You only have to go 25 mph when the light on the speed limit sign blinks. Which is pretty much all day.] See the street where the cop park ranger car is? Well it's pretty well known for park rangers to sit there and try to catch people speeding. This was actually the first time I've seen one there.

So I was driving along on my way home from jamming to some music. I'll be the first to admit that I don't actually go 25 mph. Usually I slow down to 30-35 mph over the cross walk and then speed back up. I mean, that's what most people do. As I turn into my neighborhood I look into my rear view mirror and see those stupid red and blue lights. At first I have this insane thought, "Okay, maybe I'm not getting pulled over. Maybe he's just trying to get around me." Duh. Of course not, I was just being stupid. He pulls over behind me and gets out of the car. "Miss, you were going so fast you were burning rubber!" Right, because tires burn rubber going 43 mph. Then he tried to tell me I didn't use my turn signal turning into my neighborhood. Which is a lie, I know I used it. [I've been told by many people I overuse my turn signal. But that's only because I hate it when people don't use it.] Mind you it wasn't even a police officer, it was a park ranger. He asks for my license and registration. And what do you know. I had forgotten my license. I think at that point I was ready to cry.

So after he comes back to my window after searching for my license number he says, "I could get you for four violations right now." Then he stopped talking and just looked at me. I think he wanted me to cry. Which I did, but that's not the point. He didn't need to be a jerk about it. Then he goes, "However, I'm only going to give you a ticket for going 43 in a 25." And, of course, he was all smug about it. I know he was being nice, but you could tell he knew he was being nice. Then I drove the 2 minutes I had left to drive to my house.

Now I have to go next Wednesday to the state attorney's office to get court supervision. Basically, if I don't get a ticket in the next six months the speeding ticket will be taken off my record. I have to pay $120 for the ticket and $100 for the court supervision. I'm so mad. Mostly at myself and a little at the park ranger. Plus any time I tell anyone I got a ticket from a park ranger they laugh. The one time I didn't get stuck behind an elderly person actually driving the speed limit there's a park ranger! Ugh.

Day 18

A picture of your biggest insecurity.

I have honestly been putting this one off for a while. I've probably mentioned this before, but I have a thyroid disease that slows down my metabolism. We first learned about it when I was ten. From that time period on my biggest insecurity has been my weight. I know I'm not obese, or even big. But there were definitely times in my life when I felt that I was. I struggled so much when I was younger with my weight. I would see all my friend and think to myself how unfair it was that they were skinny and I wasn't. Why couldn't I be like them? I would get all into exercising and eating right. Then suddenly I would ask myself why. It didn't matter how hard I tried, I'd never be like them. Because of this my weight has fluctuated a lot over the past four years.

Until recently I couldn't deal with the emotional stress of being overweight, and then not, and then being overweight again. And so on. Now I find it easier to accept that, yeah, I may never be skinny. I may never be a size 2 or even a 6 or 8. But that's okay. The most important thing to me now is just being healthy. Eating right because I feel good and whole afterward. Running not because I enjoy running, but because I have more energy. Don't get me wrong, in doing these things I do hope to be more slender. I also haven't completely thrown my weight issues out of the window either. I don't think I ever will. But I am able to make myself understand that I'm not perfect and neither is anyone else. Comparing myself to others isn't healthy, and no good can ultimately come out of it.

*This picture is from my eighth grade trip to Washington, D.C. I consider this the low point of my self-esteem problems.

Where various things, including half-naked Chris Evans, are on fire.

Three things today, people! I would firstly like to point out my kind of old brand spankin' new tab called Off the Shelf. If you would kindly tab over you will find a list of books that I have read and, down at the bottom, a cover of the book I am currently reading. And you can fully expect a commentary on the book I'm reading at this moment. [When I say commentary I mean rant.]

Today while I was having my yearly checkup at the doctor's office I was reminded of my first experience giving blood at school. As you know, if you've ever given blood, it takes awhile for them to get all the blood they need from you. However, I started to grow impatient when I noticed it was taking a little bit longer to get my blood. That's when the irrational side of my brain came out to play. As I lay there looking at the ceiling I all but convinced myself that I had been forgotten. Panic began to set in as I imagined what would soon happen. Eventually all of my blood would be emptied from my body and I would, obviously, die. I know, this is ridiculous. First, the bags aren't big enough to allow this to happen. And, second, they probably wouldn't forget someone. But I couldn't help thinking it. Have you guys ever thought this? Or is there some other irrational fear/experience that you have? Sometimes you just can't help but think of disastrous things that could happen. I will not allow this to keep me from giving blood again.

And, finally, Lex has bestowed upon me and four others an award. It is perhaps my favorite because it's called the Blog on Fire Award. And I am a pyromaniac born from a pyromaniac family. So this makes me happy. I feel slightly undeserving to do my lack of posts lately, but hey, it's summer. There's my excuse. I know I've done the 5 things about me do-dad a couple times, but bear with me.

1. I have a slight addiction to googling things. For example, I just googled the expression 'bear with me.' Apparently, 'bear with me' means a request for forbearance or patience. 'Bare with me' would be an invitation to undress.
2. I have a tan. I HAVE A TAN! And it's not fake.
3. My confirmation name is Cecilia after St. Cecilia the patron of music.
4. I love all things Mario Brothers and Nintendo. [Hence the new banner.]
5. In order to prevent my fear from becoming real, hoarding, I have taken a step in the opposite direction. My name is Kate and I am a compulsive cleaner. [I just googled compulsive. So I guess that makes me a compulsive googler, also.]

 I will grant this honor to the following:

allyson kate

Free to Dance

Imagine Me Complexly

Vicoria's World

Life As I Know It

"Bare with me?"

Oooooops.

Oh haaaaaaaay! Well this place looks slightly familiar. I didn't intend on taking a break at all. None whatsoever. But. However. Here we are. It sort of happened like this:

• "I'll just catch up on things tomorrow."
• The next day: "You know, I'm kind of tired today. Tomorrow, definitely."
• The next next day: "A couple days that's it, I swear."
• A week later: "Ah shit. Okay, tomorrow. Yep, for sure."
• A couple weeks later: "I am a terrible person."
• Today: "Get the eff over it."

And here we are. I apologize immensely. I'm hoping sure you guys understand. I have this terrible problem with procrastination. Speaking of which I have four different essays to write for my college applications... Tomorrow. I will get right on that. For sure. Definitely. Yes.

Sadly, tomorrow also happens to be my last day of baby sitting. Sadface. I will admit I was looking forward to this day for the past couple weeks. But now that I'm practically on top of it, I'm kind of sad. I mean, I've been hanging out with this kid four days a week, all summer long. As corny as it sounds, I really will miss him. I've never really had a baby sitting job before, but I do know enough to know how lucky I got. He listens to everything I say, does whatever I ask him to, and never acts like a brat. Plus he is just the sweetest thing in the world.

And, of course, school starts next Thursday. Senior year starts next Thursday. Yikes, I really don't feel old enough. But then again I do. Now I'm off to try and catch up on all the different blogs I'm following. This might take a while. (The next blog will not be twenty-one days from now. It will be up within a week.) (If you are following my tumblr or twitter you would have known that I am still alive. Links over in the side bar.)

That mailbox had it coming!

Yep. I did it again. Near death experience, what number is this? Dos, tres, cuatro? Who really knows at this point. I'm really not that bad of a driver! I know, I know, at this point it is very questionable. But see how I say near death experience? I'm still here aren't I?! And no damage done that's undoable.

Last night I saw Cars 2 with my friend Morgan; her brother Michael and sister Allison; our friend Collins, and my friend Kayla. [The movie was sooo cute. Every time I see the Disney castle and hear that music it brings me back to my childhood.] We had all met at Morgan's house so we could just take two cars. Well we got back after the movie and my friend Kayla needed a ride home because she lost her license for two months. I offered to take her, she lives like 5 minutes away.

It was sort of raining, more like a drizzle. On the way back I wasn't really worried because it had all but stopped. Of course, I forgot about the puddles. And the wet roads. I might have taken a turn just a tad too fast. Next thing I know I'm hydroplaning and start fishtailing towards a house. Mind you this is out in the country, on a pretty much deserted county back road where there's a house every 5 minutes. While trying not to freak out I start correcting it, when I over correct and head straight into a ditch on the other side of the road.

It all happened so fast. All I know is I saw of flash of red and thought I took out a mailbox. Those mailboxes are built to withstand combines, tractors, weather, anything. I'm thinking, okay, this could be really, really bad. Do I get out and check my car? No. Because I watch TV, I've seen the movies. I am not going to get killed by a psycho, drugged up killer. Luckily, Morgan's house was like a minute away, so I drove out of the ditch [thank God for Jeeps] and to her house. Where I walked into their living room and promptly burst into tears in front of her and Collins. They consoled me until I was able to tell them what happened. And, God bless them, they started telling jokes and stories about accidents they've had to try and calm me down.

When I finally calmed down I called my dad and then we went out and inspected my car. Considering I thought I just murdered a mailbox the damage really wasn't bad at all. I busted the casing of my right front headlight and the front bumper sagged a little. My Jeep being old those pieces will be easy to replace, the expense not too bad. My dad got there, checked it out, and we went home.

We went back to the scene of the crime this afternoon because it's "the right thing to do." [My dad's big on that.] He was going to offer to buy the people a new mailbox. But when we got there we discovered that I actually didn't hit the mailbox. I came within inches of the stupid thing, but didn't even touch it. I guess it didn't go flying, I did. We knocked on the people's door anyways, but they weren't home. The only thing that ended up injured was my headlight. Oh, and my pride. Sigh. I'm just wondering how many more lucky shots I'm going to get.

Pantuflas!

*This post has nothing to do with pantuflas. And everything to do with prom. We've been reviewing for the Spanish final and I can't get the word out of my head.*

Prompromprom.

Kayla, Me, Jordin, Blake

This basically describes our friendship

Morgan had to go with her boyfriends group [plus this shows how super tall I was]

Prom was actually pretty fun. Of course, some parts weren't so good. He showed up late to my house to pick me up. Which was the first bad thing. Mostly because I hate being late, hate hate hate it. My friends were mad at me, but they're usually the late ones so I didn't really mind it. This alone wouldn't have been that bad, except he didn't get me a corsage. Really, I mean really?! So that was awkward seeing as how I got him a boutonniere. [I told my cousin Josh and he was really mad. I'm basically the youngest cousin so they all feel really protective of me.] When we, finally, got to the fountain it went fine. I kind of feel like it was awkward for him, but I was having fun with my friends and their dates so I really just didn't even care. It's his own fault if he doesn't know how to be social.

We went to Fuji for dinner which is a Japanese steakhouse. They have hibachi grills or you can sit at a table and get sushi. We sat at a table and ate sushi. The plus side is that my friend Blake is a hostess there and all the chefs love her so they gave us a bunch of free food. Score! It might have been a bad time for him. He didn't even make an effort! I don't know if he's just socially awkward or what. Don't be thinking I was being a bitch to him, I really did try. But I didn't want to spend my whole night babysitting so I ended up giving up on it. But it was weird because on the drive to the dance he was really talkative. I just don't get him.

I thought at the dance he would just ditch me, I mean that's why I said I'd go with him. But I'd be having a blast dancing with my friends and suddenly he'd just be there. Helloooo creeper status. I basically just kept blowing him off. I'll admit at first I felt like a bitch, but then I just didn't care. We slow danced and he was doing that thing where they try to very nonchalantly pull you closer to themselves. But I was doing this little shuffle thing backward at the same time so I ended up closer to the couple who was dancing behind me [they were friends of mine, don't think I was being the awkward one]. Other than that the dance was sooo much fun. I'm usually not much of a dancer [because I'm terrible], but when you realize that, hey, so is everyone else you just don't care anymore. [I mean, let's be honest, most white girls from the middle of nowhere can't dance.] I was sweating by the end of the dance.

After the dance is post prom at the sports center. They have blow up obstacle courses, soccer, basketball, volleyball, indoor golfing, rock wall climbing, and at the end of the night a hypnotist. He dropped me off at my house to change with my friend Kayla and her date Jamal. I was gonna try and hitch a ride with them but he came back to pick me up. [On the way there we listened to some weird ass music. Usually I'm not one to judge, but this was freaky. Some guy was moaning about killing someone and a bunch of other stuff I don't care to describe.] I didn't see him pretty much the whole night, post prom's from 11pm to 6am. We did all the stuff in 3 hours so we were really tired about halfway through. It was cool though, because we ended up chilling on the blowup obstacle course and talking. That's when I know I have good friends, all you can be doing is just talking and that's fun. It's enough, there really isn't any effort in it.

I realize this is a really long post, so I'm almost done. After post prom my friends, their dates, and I decided we wanted to get McDonald's breakfast. This puts the final nail in my bitchiness to him, but oh well. As we were walking out I go, "Oh by the way, I'm gonna go get breakfast with them. Bye!" Yeah. Don't even tell me. I already know. But in my defense he hadn't been all that gracious either! Like my friend Morgan said, I probably would have been better off going by myself. [Or my friend Chase. Doh! Why didn't I think of him?!]
I'm happy to say this will probably be the last time you hear me speak of him. And no, I don't mean Voldemort [anybody? anyone?] All in all, a fun, if slightly awkward, prom. Nothing more or less than I expected.

WAH WAH WAH.

WAAANT.

My life since Sunday:

• Got home at 7am from post prom. Sleep until 2 pm. Woke up with a cold.
• Battling this cold with tons of coffee, clementines, and cold meds.
• Still haven't made up on lost sleep from the past 3 weeks. Kate is zombie.
• Army recruiter came to P.E. class and made us do PT exercises. Kate is zombie with sore muscles.
• Every time I sneeze my abs feel like they're trying to give birth.
• Ran the mile today. On the track outside in 50 degree, windy weather during 1st hour.
• Because of the extreme coldness it felt like my thighs were being pricked with needles before I ceased to have any feeling in them at all. [Or that bitch Cassie who's been talking about me has a voodoo doll and decided to torture me as I ran the mile. No resentment there. As my friend J.B. says, she's just mad because she looks like a cheeseburger. Don't ask how it's possible, it just is.]
• After running the mile it felt like I was breathing in thumbtacks while trying to stem the river that was pouring out of my nose [that's gross, but it's the truth.]

So as you can guess I'm a pretty sight right now.

• I'm walking like an idiot right now because on top of having lost a bunch of sleep I'm sore from the PT exercises and running a mile.
• I walk around school with that awkward face one makes when about to sneeze. But of course I don't acutally sneeze that often so I just look like a dumb ass.
• I have bags under my eyes [see first bullet].
• My hair needs to be trimmed. [This has nothing to do with my week, but still.]

Not that I'm complaining or anything! The plus side? No school on Friday because of the band trip to St. Louis. Wooh! And I promise promise promise that I'll post my prom pictures soon. I just haven't gotten around to uploading them to my computer.

Or maybe it's the same either way.

I could feel the heat climbing up my face. I was sure my face had to be a lovely shade of flaming red. I mean, it's not like people were out and out staring--but I could feel their glances life needle pricks on my skin. Sneaking a peek now and then, trying to be sneaky about it. I don't know which is worse. Or maybe it's the same either way.

As the class seemed to drag on, they were getting more and more blatant about it. Waiting two or three seconds longer each time to turn their heads away after I looked at them. It happens so often, I know it shouldn't bother me anymore. But all I could think about is how bad I wanted to get out of there. I needed an escape.