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I should have done all of my homework last night, but I sat up making mix tapes instead. Or, actually, mix cds, which aren't nearly as cool, but which everyone now prefers because they've all thrown away their tape players or something. Isn't part of the experience of the mix having to either sit through the songs you like not-so-much as well as the ones you love or spend endless amounts of time blindly fast-forwarding and rewinding to find the things you like? Don't you bond with your music like I do? Kids today. I tell ya. One of them is for Tristan, the other's for Gabe, who randomly came up to me the other day and said he wanted me to make him a mix and burn him cds. So, that was odd...when was the last time I really spoke to him in depth? Two years ago, perhaps? How does he know about my musical preferences? Very strange indeed. He was really, really unspecific about what he wanted, too, so I've no idea where to start. Mr. Newitt is really, really obsessed with that cheesy crackle-effect spray. It looks awful, and I'm pretty sure he wants me to spray it over everything I've ever done. He's a very odd man. The play is going to be really, really awkward, and I can't decide whether or not it will be even worse than last year's. Yes, granted, kissing Jason was incestuous and I don't even want to think about it, but at least it didn't last for an entire page of dialogue. Eesh! -- Anne I'm listening to: Song Against Sex - NMH
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The cast list for the school play ( While the Lights Were Out) has been posted - Jason, Leah, and I, all got leads, which is good. However, I think I have one of those parts with lots of "kissing marvelously", which is bound to be exceedingly awkward. I think I have to marvelously kiss two people, as well. Uncool. Stevenson, that bitch, she knows how uncomfortable that makes me! I think she gets some kind of morbid pleasure out of making me do these things. Honestly, I would be more comfortable having sex on stage than kissing someone on stage. Yeah, that's weird, I know, but sex would be something I could detach myself from - it's not quite as personal and intimate for me. Ew. Ew. Ew. *frets* I've also lost my voice, so the readthrough tomorrow should be interesting. Indeed. ~~Anne I'm feeling: intimidated I'm listening to: "My New York" - Reclinerland
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Art at school is actually a lot better than I thought it would be. Taking it independently is totally the way to go. No obnoxious types around, no Newitt looming over me, I can eat my lunch, listen to my music...it's like having a lunch period but nicer. I have to censor my sketchbook, though. Wow I wish it wasn't a Catholic school. Speaking of school, I got into Mastersingers. I guess that's good. It should've happend two year ago, but it matters not. I have to tell Anderson I can't be in Madrigals now, which is not cool...they have Renaissance garb as their uniform. I think Mastersingers should, too. Sufjan Stevens was in the New York Times Magazine today. He had two full beautiful glossy pages. I didn't realize he was gorgeous, too. Strange days, my friends. Watch the skies. I can barely speak, let alone type well tonight. Alas. ~~Anne I'm feeling: restless I'm listening to: "The Improbable Solution" - The Cassettes
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First day of school was on Thursday – a half day, so it was relatively painless, but still something to be suffered through. I don’t seem to have classes with anybody I had classes with last year, and I have nearly no classes with anybody I would actually enjoy...classing with. o_0 I apologize for any incomprehensible moments in this post; I didn’t get much sleep last night. Anyway, my schedule, in all it’s sucktastic glory: AP Calculus AB – Coté NOTES: Meh, this class seems like it could be worse. I mean, obviously it’s going to be hella hard and taxing and ohgodi’mnotthinkingabouththat. But the teacher seems nice, and Maja is in this class with me, so I have moral support in math class for the first time ever. American Literature – Rescigna NOTES: I’d just like to point out—asking students to tell you their goals for the year as an introductory exercise is a bad idea. I don’t come to school with a goal for the year planned! I need time to think it through! I DON’T DEAL WELL UNDER PRESSURE. >_O I’m sitting with Jen Camp and Elinor in this class; they are both nice people. However, this class is also full of slackers. Oh god, why. I could have been in Ms. Sell’s class, but no...it sucks to be me. Chemistry – Rush NOTES: I like Dr. Rush. She’s nice. Sort of monotonous, but nice, and it’s not her fault that she seems less interested in the material than we are, because I know she is interested. HER ROOM HAS DRUGS IN THE WALLS, THOUGH. I’m serious, I start to feel like a dirt clod as soon as I walk in the door, and then I start to fall asleep, and being a sleeping dirt clod while you should be learning chemistry is not a good idea. Latin III – Messinger NOTES: I love Mr. Messinger, and love Latin significantly more than I have ever loved any other language, so of course this class is going to be fine. Despite the fact that I don’t remember a single Latin word. Or declension. Actually, what the hell is a declension? Save me, I’m screwed. AP Biology – Gupta/Whatsernamethesubstitute. NOTES: Kill me now. U.S. History – Lober NOTES: Drugs in the walls again. Not so much with the dirt-clod-ness, though, more of a cat-like transformation. ...okay, actually, just ignore that. I’m not worried about this class. AP Language – Towers NOTES: I wouldn’t know how this class is going to be, because we spent the first day playing whiffle ball. Our summer reading is not due for another two weeks or so; goddamn you, Ms. Towers, I worked on that WHILE I WAS IN AUSTRALIA. I COULD HAVE HAD A NICE VACATION BUT NO YOU MADE ME WORK AND NOW IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER. Oh well. As Phil would say, we’ll all be dead in 50 years anyway. I hope everybody notes just how CRAPPY this schedule is. It sucks. There is no other way to describe the complete and utter assholic nature of this thing. It’s like a beast. An evil beast, with teeth and claws and all that shit. A mad, hairy beast of a schedule, of which not even a paw is shared with some kind and loving soul who might rescue me from my teenage cesspit. Alas. I really need to angst less. My schoolbag this year is orange, which was some comfort throughout the hard, often harrowing four hours of Thursday’s school day. Crush-boy (he’s still crush-boy, because I haven’t talked to him yet. Status subject to change.) cut all of his hair off over the summer. I am, as of yet, neither horrified or delighted, merely shocked. HIS HAIR. Crush-boy! Phil will not have sex with you anymore! No, don’t be so sad. It’s okay. He’s very particular. Please, seriously, don’t be upset, he would probably do you anyway. I have an excellent locker this year, though; it’s on the end of a row, so I won’t be squished in between people. Oooooh, I’m telling you, this locker makes up for EVERYTHING. </pathetic> ( On a brighter note, Phil and Sarah, two of my friends from CTY who live right outside of Philadelphia, came down to visit me yesterday... )This entry is disgustingly long. -- Allie
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