Weekdays: a whiny rant

I just feel worn down and beaten up.

There’s always something to do and I feel guilty if I’m not doing anything. When I take naps, my heart beats rapidly because I know I could be doing something. I’m not even going to try napping today; I know the guilt will consume me. Guess I’m still recovering from yet another crazy Monday.

I barely have time to breathe on Mondays. I have class from 9:30–11:20, a small break for lunch, then class from 1:30–2:20. I go right from there to work in the dean’s office from 2:30–5:00. Yesterday, my work time ran into about quarter after five, lessening my time considerably. I have a meeting each Monday from 6:00–approximately 8:00. Top that with the cherry of discovering I register for classes TODAY (a very unexpected event) and some statistics homework I will never understand and you get the idea of how yesterday was for me. I’m exhausted. And Tuesdays aren’t a breath of fresh air, either.

I wake up on Tuesdays and have to be with a team that clearly does not get along. Nobody on my team says “Hi, how are you?” or “Good morning!” to anyone. I’m lucky if I even make eye contact with some people. It makes me miserable to think about those Tuesday/Thursday mornings with those people. I wish so badly that things could be different. In high school, the girl’s cross-country team had differences with the guy’s team, but at least we were all friends.

It’ll be exciting to welcome the recruits in this August. Maybe they can turn things around for the better.

For now, I’ll endure those early morning weight room sessions and try hard to keep my snide comments to myself.

A DJ, a gym and some glow sticks

At 7:o0 yesterday morning, “Into The Ocean” by Blue October started bursting out of the speakers on my triangular iHome. I continually hit the “snooze” button until I could do so no longer. I gave up at 7:30 and dragged my sorry butt out of bed to face what would turn into an extremely long day.

This weekend was Homecoming weekend. The problem was, I hadn’t given Homecoming a single thought because I had a huge obstacle to get through first. Conveniently, we had a cross-country meet in the freezing cold wind and mud. And, my race was to be the last race of the day. We left at 8:30 in order to get there by 10:00, and I didn’t run until 2:30. All of this equals one long and cold day.

I ran well, and yes, hanging out with the team is always fun. I finally met the guy that has been taking pictures at meets (in which I sometimes appeared) for years, and coincidentally he is also one of my employers. I got to snuggle with five of my teammates to build up the warmth we so desperately sought and got to experience one crazy bus ride.

After my race, we [my family] left immediately. After a few stops along the way, we finally got home at 5:00, and my boyfriend was to be at the house at 6:30 to get some pictures taken beforehand.

The dance was fun. My only complaint was the complete lack of slow songs. He (one of my brother’s friends who played the DJ) must have wanted to keep up with the “rave” theme Student Council had whipped up, but he only played three slow songs and I, along with many others, was disappointed. The entire gym smelled like bare feet and glow stick fluid because people kept breaking open the complimentary glow sticks everyone wore around their necks. A friend of mine actually got squirted in the eye with one at the very beginning of the dance, and she commented that it was very painful.

Afterward, we headed up to a friend’s house to attempt an all-nighter. Everyone but my boyfriend, my friend and me fell asleep. At five o’clock, we decided to get back in the hot tub and didn’t end up surfacing from it until seven. And yes, we got very prune-y.

It was a fun night. I was happy that my boyfriend and I matched perfectly and it’s always a treat to see classmates all dolled up instead of just sauntering around in their pajamas or jeans during the average school day.

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Sorry, Dorothy

Remember my blog entry about not knowing which road to take? The pretty yellow brick one that was anything but practical versus the solid red brick one? (If not, here it is: https://blackbyrd.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/follow-the-yellow-brick-road/.) Well, I’ve chosen one. Are you curious to know which one I’ve decided to venture down?

This past week was theater camp week. I didn’t really want to go because it seemed like a waste of time. People were working their batooties off on their mud-covered houses and I was stuck inside the high school’s auditorium where it seemed like nothing was wrong. But there was something wrong. A lot of something wrong.

I had to do it, though. I needed to for my own sanity. I’ve been trying to choose what career path to take; the one full of glamour and spotlights (which isn’t even guaranteed) or the sensible one where I am behind the scenes with a pen in my hand? This past week has convinced me that the yellow brick road would not be a wise choice. It may look pretty, but looks can definitely be deceiving. What if I start on my way down it and the path breaks in half because, though the bricks are beautiful, they are cheap? The red brick seems more stable. I’m going for that one.

I enjoyed the singing immensely. It’s the acting that I can’t stand anymore. I’m beginning to think that actors and actresses act like other people because they aren’t okay with themselves. I have become so comfortable with myself and have such high self esteem that I don’t need nor do I want to act like anyone but myself. As I was getting instructed to do certain dance moves and stand in a certain spot and have a certain face on, I grew extremely tired of it. I wouldn’t last in that kind of environment where I am getting told what to look like, how to act, how to sound, and where to go. That’s not me. That doesn’t sound like a desirable future.

And so, I’ve decided that I’m done with theater. I’ll keep my part in the musical, consider taking part in the play (I’ll end up doing it, I know), but I’m not doing anything extra anymore. Sure, our performance might have cheered people up yesterday, but one way to really help them out is to get dirty and help clean up our village. All this week I was wasting my days with the learning of music and dance moves that aren’t even relevant to my future.

I’m done.

I’m partial to lycans

I’ve seen the Underworld movies too many times to even count. Over the years, Kate Beckinsale has become a hero of mine. Not many women can kick ass in a skin-tight leather suit – thus, she’s one of my heroes. When I found out that they were coming out with a prequel, I was a little apprehensive. No Kate Beckinsale? C’mon! How could they possibly do this to me? Well, they did. And you know what? It was still effin’ awesome.

We don’t go to the movie theaters very often, so I knew that I would never have a chance to see the new movie in theaters (just like how I know I won’t see the Wolverine movie until I can get my hands on the DVD). So, I have been waiting for the movie to come out on DVD. Adam bought it yesterday, and finally (FINALLY!) we watched it tonight.

Wow. WOW! I’ve always been partial to the lycans more than the vampires, and this movie just confirmed my love for them. In the first movie, Lucian became my hero. For some odd reason, I fell in love with him. In the second movie when they revealed hints of his troubled past, my love grew deeper. Now that I know the whole story, he’s like a Gawd to me. Sure, I liked Michael too, but Lucian always remained my favorite.

Along with confirming my hate for the vampires, this movie set my hate for Viktor in stone. What kind of father burns his daughter alive? (Yeah, yeah, I know it’s only fictional…but still.) I remember being thrilled when Selene sliced his head in half in Underworld: Evolution, and now I have even more reason to enjoy that killing.

There was no Kate Beckinsale (well, barely any). So what? It was still enjoyable for me. And I still love Lucian.

“We are going to pick ourselves up, and dust ourselves off”

Today my brother and I were supposed to be at the orthodontist at exactly twelve o’clock to let them torture us. My mother called the office yesterday and informed them that we would not be attending our appointment. We all wished to watch Barack Obama’s Inauguration.

Every classroom I entered today had either their TV or their SMART Board tuned into the news, watching this historical event.

In 7/8 period Global, we sat down and began writing the thematic essays for our mid-term examination. I finished mine, and sat twiddling my thumbs (well, I read) until my teacher, Mr. Leous decided it was finally time to turn on his TV. “You can put your essays away now,” he said.

We watched. And watched. And watched. I mouthed the Lord’s prayer along with the man who recited it, and then Aretha Franklin got up and sang her heart out. The bell rang just as she started singing, so my friend and I hustled to the Chorus Room, and turned on the TV. We stood around the piano until Mr. Lerew entered the room, switched the channel to a station without any static and told us we could watch it for the whole period as long as he could have five minutes at the end.

Biden became Vice President (when they said “would everyone please rise,” we rose and when Mr. Lerew came along and motioned for us to sit down, we simply told him that they told us to stand), and then came the short performance with the lovely violin and Yo Yo Ma on cello. My jaw dropped, and at 12:01 it was announced that though Obama had not been sworn in yet, he was now our new president.

His speech was beautiful. I hung onto his every word and was thanking God that it wasn’t Hilary I was listening to at that moment. The way he talks makes me believe that he is an extremely smart man – there were and are never any stutters or silences. I had tears in my eyes as he spoke, and was so relieved that he is our president. I feel so much better about our country now that he is in charge.

I will never forget that historical moment for as long as I live. I sat in a choir room filled with friends and watched the TV with such interest as the subtitles (which we attempted to take away, but to no avail) echoed everything he said. When I am older and my kids are learning about this moment from their history textbooks, I can smile and tell them that I witnessed it as it happened. I will always remember what happened today.

The end

Today is over. It came and went. Everything that I predicted came true, but there were also a few twists.

I woke up at ten o’clock, just like any other gorgeous summer morning. I rolled around on my bed for a little while before I decided that it really was time to get up. No use wasting the day, right?

The sky today was crystal clear, as was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. Absolutely no clouds in sight. I wallowed around the house, munching a bowl full of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and looking out the window. I finally stepped outside at one o’clock to get my hair cut.

I walked out of The Chop Shop (local hair place – run by a family friend) a whole new person, my hair shorter and more wild with curls. Of course, I had to ruin it by putting it into tiny little piggy tails for cross country practice.

Practice was hell. H-E-double-hockey sticks. We ran over to Prison Hill, and did hill repeats… In the blistering heat. We did six and then my friend and I ran back to the school together with our shirts lifted up, trying to catch even the slightest hint of a breeze.

I got home and took a dip in the pool (which was FREEZING), and then made breffast fo’ dinna. I barely had enough energy to enjoy the meal I had made, I was so wiped out from practice.

As promised, after dinner my mother drove me to the gravel pit to get a good view of the sun drowning in the sky. We had a hard time getting a good view without burning our eyes out of our sockets, but we eventually settled in and watched the sun disappear.

Now, here I am. My tummy is full, my body is tired, and my eyes are droopy with sleepiness. My hair is wild, my nails are perfectly groomed and polished, and my eyebrows have been plucked to perfection (by who else but moi?). My mother is talking on the phone behind me, I hear the sounds of the TV displaying baseball in the next room, watched by who else but my baseball-crazed dad. I can hear the movie my brother is watching from here because of the insane surround sound system he hooked up. I am tired, and there are noises all around me. I am so glad that I actually did keep my promise and watch the sunset, but now, all I want to do is curl up with a book and read until I am cross-eyed. My body is tired, and I am ready to retire to my bedroom where I will greet the new day. My friend instant messaged me and asked me if I am ready for hell tomorrow. I guess I will have to live through a day and decide whether this year will be hell or not. As of now, I really cannot judge.

Quote of the day:

“When it rains, it fricken pours!”