It's that time of year again. Put your heart in a ziplock bag and tuck it in the freezer. I should be used to it by now. I'm going to start hiding it from myself.

Lovin' ma Daniel. We're about to eat tacos. mmm.

W H I L E Y O U W E R E S H O P P I N G

I don't want to confuse you (you, you, not "Daniel-you" to whom this is referring).

I went furniture shopping with Daniel and his family yesterday. Daniel is getting an apartment. I want an apartment. I got a book. We were not book shopping for his apartment, though. We were book shopping for Daniel's brother, Garett, and I was book shopping for me. And Bebeh Blair told me to read this book. And I do love Bebeh, and books, and curiosity. Andbutso, it was good. I read it on eight different couches, one pallet/bed, and one vehicle. I read it yesterday, when I bought it, by "read" I mean "devoured." It was delicious. I loved it.

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Pros: I loved the narrator/main character, adorable point-of-view, perfect pace, wonderful story line and idea and just a great sense of purpose to the whole thing, nothing seemed weird or out of place at all. It all fit so perfectly it seemed real.

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Cons: It reminded me of Flowers For Algernon, which was a book I enjoyed, but they were just really similar narrators, I thought. And the whole rat thing. It was just eerie. However, I do love both books a lot.

S O M E T H I N G S

W R I T E R S & S U C H

David.

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Going to Gaga in April next year with Daniel :)

Good Morning&Goodnight.

2 R E A S O N S

Maddie Roommate in this picture, and Zack's missing shirt.

We Graduated.

Where'd you go?
I miss you so--
seems like it's been forever
that you've been gone...

I'm SO sorry. I didn't M E A N to disappear. I really didn't. I got really spoiled at school with having internet everyday. Then graduation started creeping up. And I got so busy. And, and, I'm sorry. I am sorry. You don't deserve this. Please don't leave me.

Okay, I'm back. Here's what's on the menu:

I don't have internet at home. I can blog a bit from my phone. Period. When I can, I'll make pretty posts on the computer. However, that is very very seldom.

I want to start a journey. An epic journey to and through churches in my area. I want to go to a new one every Sunday, chronicle the events, and find the perfect church. However, I'm thinking that's going to be a pretty funny account, because there are some churches I can't take seriously. Freal.

Anyway, I mean, I probably can't do that this summer. Cause, you know, I go to Jason's church with him mostly. And, I just don't think I will. "Can't" is synonymous with "won't."

I'm back. As much as I can be. I love you. Really.

C D C M E H A P P I

My junior, Anna, made me a mix CD.

I love it.

(1)Pianno Lessons--Porcupine Tree

(2)Maxwell's Silver Hammer--the Beatles

(3)Graduate--Third Eye Blind

(4)Paris Is Burning--St. Vincent

(5)Bad--Michael Jackson

(6)Water Dripping On Bread Makes Bread Taste Not So Nasty--Major Organ And The Adding Machine

(7)Sleeping In--The Postal Service

(8)Telephone (feat. Beyonce')--Lady Gaga

(9)Poem: At What Point Does A Shakespeare Say--Emilie Autumn

(11)Italian Leather Sofa--Cake

(12)Spring-Heeled Jack--Zombina & The Skeletons

(13)She Blinded Me With Science--Thomas Dolby

(14)Death to Death--Stars

(15)The Day He Didn't Die--The Mighty Might Bosstones

(16)This Hog's In Love--The Presests

(17)A-W-E-S-O-M-E--Reel Big Fish

(18)Glass Vase, Cello Case--Tattle Tale

(19)Boombox (feat. Julian Casablancas)-- The Lonely Island

(20)Two Shoes--The Car Empire

(21)The Future Soon--Jonathan Coulton

(22)Write What You Know--Stars

A S C H O L A R S H I P

My grandmother has boxes filled of write ups from when my dad was in school that say things like: “Today, your son was sent to the office for running around the room and howling like an Indian.” Needless to say, my father didn’t finish school. He got his GED and went to welding school and has been welding and pipe fitting for my entire life. He makes great money when there are jobs he can go to, but it’s not very reliable and it’s evidently very hard on him. I don’t want that for my life. Now, when my father looks at me at awards day, or when I win writing contests, I can tell he’s proud of me. I graduate high school in ten days, and hopefully graduate college in four years—I imagine on those days I’ll be excited enough to run around like an Indian, and I really hope he is, too. My father has taught me to run around and act crazy when I feel like a need to, but work hard to be all I could ever want to be, too—and I will, and I do.

That boy is a monster.

That boy is a

monster-er-er-er-er

he ate my heart!

I love that girl.

He ate my heart.

Wanna talk to her she's hawt as hell.

He ate my heart.

If anyone wants to get me either a polaroid 300 camera and film, or polaroid 600 film, I would love it. I want it for graduation day.

Clikk.

I'm going to be in an MSA promotional video, up on the website in JuneorJuly.

T H O S E F I N G E R S L E A V E M A R K S

Can we press our faces against the glass?
Leave obtuse circles on it's Windexed surface--
tap, tap,
tap our index fingers on the Internet
and scare away those men, those teenagers
eating sex like scones and feeling so sophisticated.
.
Never apologize, watch that dolphin flinch, that
man that never even knew
how to spell D-O-L-F-I-N
godhelpus--
I wish she would have turned around,
no arms, no hand to push him with,
"You can't rape an animal, they want it--
you can't rape a girl that likes it."
.
We are all animals, and I'm sweating
because it's hot outside,
but the longer I'm wrapped up
in AC units and motherboards
the more I feel like screaming
screeching crying like a dolphin
.
because when I get out there,
everyone one
with all their +1 internets
will be sitting on the curbs
smoking droopy cigarettes
and looking at me,
begging me
to walk into that smoke screen
and spend those five seconds coughing
.
press my fingers into my eyes and
let the tears fall down my face
look down
let the breasts that
sprouted spontaneously one day
overflow my shirt
and not know
if I've grown
or if I'm just supposed to look
like this.

The Look
by Sara Teasdale

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.


Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

I want to play Hey You, Pikachu S O O O bad, it really doesn't make sense at all. If you know what that is, I'm impressed and I N L O V E. I wish technology was a little slower, or nostalgia was a little shallower.

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Today, I was walking through the hall and saw some of the Visuals' art work (hello, Art School). They all had to make these boxes that were like, shadow box-type things, and there were colored lights behind them. There was one that was Where the Wild Things Are themed--there were coke bottles and pop tops, there were funny shapes and other things, but my favorite one said:

"I'm Not Nostalgic"

and it had some other random letters down at the bottom. I loved it!

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I did some asking, found out it was my roommate. Epic. It's amazing.

Poem.

C L I X

Exposed.

Scene.

I'm going to start submitting the hell out of stuff. Writing just to submit. That's what I'm doing today.

Somehow I'm going to junior college now. 2 years, yessir.

• FIREWATCH, summer job. I've always been good at not catching on fire or blowing up. It's basically my calling.
• FARMER, sellin' produce. Makin cash money.

I'm sorry, do other people have plans? I'm just catching myself before I fall, landing in whatever this is. I'm going to college. Regardless. Somewhere.

W U T H A P P N' D

W U T