BOOYAH

SCHOOL IS OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS.

NO MORE 9 HOUR DAYS, NO MORE QUESTIONABLE FOOD, NO MORE EVIL TEACHE- well, wait a minute, I still got college... nm.

BUT STILL!

My class basically spent the day either skipping or goofing off. They made me sing the Star-Spangled Banner for them. I think less than half of the Amercian population knows all the words to that song. Good thing I'm one of them, hunh?

And I got a note from a friend that made me feel really good. She said that I completely changed her idea of the typical American, after being offended by the media and our idiot politicians. Someone now thinks better of America because of me. That. Thats really nice to hear, you know?

Sometimes, though, I feel like a selfish asshole because I don't get teary during big goodbyes. I'm not really sentimental, period. Its really strange. I actually will get excited/scared/sad/whatever a few days before the big event. And then once the big upheaval occurs, I'm like, 'Alrighty then. Enough wibbling, lets do this!'

Although, somehow? I don't think my homecoming thing can really be experianced ahead of time. So I may just drop like a shot bird the moment I realize that everyone around me is speaking English.

But anyway. French school was never my favorite thing, but this one beat the Catholic school I had to attend in September by a fucking landslide. The 9 hour days were rough, and while it got easier to ignore, you never really forgot. I thought I was going to die at the start of it, and there were days in the later months where I wasn't any less convinced. But this school gave me my network of friends, and really, gave me less class hours. I was there for 9 hours, but I never had class all the day. Sure, the library ladies grated on my nerves, and some days, air molecules grated on my nerves. But all in all, school wasn't too bad.

THANK GOD ITS DONE.

So. I've bid my friends goodbye, because chances are good that I'll never see them again. And when the final bell rang, I ran like hell.

::blink::

Anyone else realize that today was a Friday the 13th?

Me niether.

I just woke up from two seperate dreams. One was like a really strange mystery story where I was a black woman fighting against racism in a old Southern town. There were submarines involved.

The second one was a total anxienty dream about my going back to America, and I kept getting really sad about the fact that I'd never see my host family again. Oh course, I was comparing my dream!family to my host family, and when you're dreaming, logic doesn't always apply. For some reason, my bed frame has vanished from my room, there were small blonde children everywhere, and I didn't have my catapillar slippers.

But all in all, I kinda need a hug.

Writer's Block: The Eternal Nocturnal Struggle

[Error: unknown template qotd]Werewolves.
I got reasons, see. Vampires? They're emo. Gothic emos, even. It seems that no matter how well-adjusted they are, they always have to angst about living forever, taking the blood of others, never seeing the sun... Anne Rice, I'm lookin' at you.

Werewolves, on the other hand? They're a lot more fun. In the usual way, you get the abnormal strength, the superquick healing. And? You don't attract the whiney, self-mutilating goth crowd. No, you attract the furries, which is something way different, but in my opinion, infinately preferable.

However, when they live in my neighborhood, I don't give a damn how cool they are in comparison to the living dead. I'm packin' me some silver. kthnxbai.

Someone explain this whole adult female thing to me.

I'm watching House, right? And Chase?

OMG. And I mean, GUH.

Okay? Good. NOW EXPLAIN THIS REACTION TO ME. He's a freakin' blondish Australian prettyboy workaholic doctor with Daddy and insecurity issues out the ass, and I. Can't. Look. Away.

Is it the accent? I spent the better part of a week with an Australian boy who talked just like Chase, and he didn't even blip on my radar. Mostly because I am so not competitive and this boy was only one of three in our 20-something group. But still.

Its not the prettyboy. I don't like prettyboys. For a long time, I didn't even like boys, and I'm still not entirely convinced!

Is it that he's smart?

... oh shit, I think thats it. I want him for his Aussie-flavored brain!

... ANYBODY WANT AN EXTRA OVARY OR SOMETHING, BECAUSE MINE ARE FREAKING ME OUT.