:: 2005 31 March :: 10.40 pm
:: Music: Suzanne Vega

reflect

:: 2005 30 March :: 8.51 pm
:: Mood: I'm not sure
:: Music: Suzanne Vega

1 observation | reflect

:: 2005 28 March :: 7.13 pm
:: Mood: I like jelly beans
:: Music: Tom's Diner remix

reflect

:: 2005 16 March :: 9.43 pm

OMG
Larissa applied to Goucher.

Larissa got into Goucher.

Larissa might have been going to Goucher...but she got the same aid letter I did today. Only her's was just about empty. She didn't get any need based aid, and she didn't get any sort of merit scholarship. She can't afford to go.

I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so (etc) relieved. If she was going, I wouldn't go. It sounds stupid, that I would give up a dream just because she would be there. But I feel that strongly about her. ANY other (and I really mean any) person in my grade could go, and I would still attend. She is the one person I cannot stand to spend any more time around no matter what. Maybe if Goucher was a big school, like Rutgers...but it's barely bigger than SHS. It looks like she's going either to some random school in PA, or some random school in MD (far away from Towson, thank everything).

And thank goodness I'm smarter than her. Because if I wasn't, she might have gotten a merit scholarship like I did, and she'd probably be going there. For once, her inerit stupidity is working in my favor.

I nearly had a heart attack when my mother told me (Larissa's mom went over and sat with her during the concert I just got back from). Thank everything she's not actually going there.

reflect

:: 2005 16 March :: 3.43 pm
:: Mood: good

Yay!
I got financial aid from Goucher! $10,000 a year need-based grant, plus the $10,000 scholarship they told me about earlier. $20,000 a year. They also offered loans and a work study, though I'm going to try and avoid the loans (and maybe the workstudy for the first year until I'm comfortable enough to get a job).

This means I can go. No one's come up to me and told me that yet (no one even knows I got this letter yet), but I don't care. My one grandmother said she could cover $15,000. Tution, fees, room and board, and estimated costs for books, travel, and personal items equal about $38,450. That only leaves $3,450 a year that needs to be covered. Even if my parents can't give me a dime, I can cover some of it with the $1,200 a year I can make with workstudy, and the rest with the money I've saved (about $1000 at present, but I'll have over $2000 after working this summer, and I can always save more of what I make if I have to). Plus I have a $5000 CD, and some random educational fund my grandpa set up, and another grandma (thank you!).

So, basically, I'm going to Goucher. It's three hours away, in a cool area, and it's definitely attractive (in so many ways). Yay!

EDIT: My mother came home and pointed out that the $15,000 might be for both me AND Jennie (who costs $20,000 a year), but that might also be per semester. And Jen has a $9,000 CD, which is good. But she says I can go, and if I have to do it with loans, oh well.

1 observation | reflect

:: 2005 14 March :: 9.31 pm

I almost always have a song stuck in my head. And it's usually tied pretty well to my mood. For example, I had "Sunshine go away today" (or whatever the song is that has that line) stuck in my head for weeks after my grandpa died, even though I didn't really cry for him or express much outward sadness.

Right now I have "Nobody's Home" by Avril Lavigne stuck in my head. It's been there since the weekend. It's not exactly an example of stellar songwriting, but it's fairly descriptive:

I couldn't tell you why she felt that way,
She felt it everyday.
And I couldn't help her,
I just watched her make the same mistakes again.

What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.
Be strong, be strong now.
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

Her feelings she hides.
Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind.
She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place.
She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace.
She's all over the place.
Yeah,oh

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh
She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah

Talking to Katie today reminded me just how little time I spend happy. I said about every three weeks, which is actually more than I'm happy during the winter. It's so stupid. I've tried adjusting my attitude, but there's only so low my expectations can go, and it hasn't made me happier. I should probably see a therapist, but I honestly don't think that would help.

It's stupid to dwell on this. I'm actually not unhappy today (a few spurts, but generally happy or neutral). I don't know why I can't get rid of the song. Playing it over and over again probably isn't helping (I don't own it, but I can listen to it off of aol). I have an essay to write.

reflect

:: 2005 12 March :: 3.31 pm

Hehe, I was just reading those last two entries, it's amusing. Basically tiny things make me happy and tiny things make me depressed...I feel like a tempermental weathervane.

reflect

:: 2005 11 March :: 10.22 pm
:: Mood: irrational

Every tiny things makes me upset. It's funny, actually, in a stupid pathetic sort of way. I take every single opportunity available to hate myself. I have insanely high standards. And then I wonder why I'm unhappy.

reflect

:: 2005 9 March :: 5.20 pm

I love how little things make me happy. Like Barrett refering to me as his friend today. And feeling comfortable. Today was nice at lunch. I used to feel really incomplete without Christina, because she was the one I talked to the most. Now I spend most of my time talking to Barrett (or, rather, he talks and I add witty comments and occasionally rant about things while he very nicely pretends to care), and it's nice. He's amusing.

And there were other little nice things today too. It was a completely average day, except for these tiny things, but it's made such a difference.

Plus I did my gold award flyer. That might be part of it.

This entry doesn't have much of a point. Basically I just feel normal. Slightly happy, optimistic, energized (despite not being able to sleep again lately). It's nice.

reflect

:: 2005 7 March :: 9.13 pm

Things lately
Play on Friday was fun. Got depressed anyway.

Went to musuem in Spanish Harlem with Grandma, sister, and uncles. Saw pretty paintings, saw the Central Park gates (pretty orange fabric), ate at a Puerto Rican restaurant that had no menus and a waitress that didn't speak English. Discovered that my youngest uncle speaks pretty decent Spanglish. Still happy that someone in the kitchen spoke English.

Had dinner with Jennie at a nice restaurant with gift certificate. Tried escargot, very chewy.

Went shopping on Sunday. Got bras...stupid chest shrinking and forcing me to get new ones. Got new shoes (black and sneakerish).

Had several hours of forced family interaction Sunday afternoon to Sunday night with (paternal) Grandma and Aunt. Got guilt-tripped about not visiting more often. Got criticized for stupid things, including eating too many carrots and not writing scholarship essays yet. Got depressed. Parents stressed out, started fighting over stupid things in the car, was very happy I had my mp3 player to drown out the silence.

And today pretty much sucked.

reflect

:: 2005 5 March :: 4.48 pm

one of the more annoying surveys i've actually filled out

reflect

:: 2005 4 March :: 10.49 pm

I should probably go to bed
I feel so stupid. I always want more. I have a nice moment, and, instead of savoring it, I just want more. And it's stupid of me.

The key to happiness is being happy with what you have. Either what you have changes, or you change your attitude. But it feels like settling to me. I don't want to hang out alone all the time just doing nothing. And the moment I have a taste of being social, I want more. Which is stupid, because when I spend too much time with other people, I do idiotic things like cut myself. I have spent so many "happy" times surrounded by other people feeling completely miserable. So I cut myself off from other people (not even completely by choice anymore), but it doesn't work.

In summary: I'm unhappy alone. I'm unhappy with other people. Everytime I should be happy, I just focus on how unhappy I am every other time. Which, of course, is stupid, because it doesn't add to my state of well-being. And I keep on with the same stupid cycle, because I don't know how to stop it, and because the only thing I can think of is a bit too permanent of a solution (plus it would make me a hyprocrite).

reflect

:: 2005 4 March :: 3.56 pm

I was in a horrible mood at lunch today. I got in late, so I didn't even bother with the lunch line. I just sat down, opened my notebook, and wrote stuff down. And then I played with my pencil and worried people. I wasn't going to eat, but I wanted a lunch tray to break so I got a slice of pizza. Probably a bad idea, because I spent the rest of the day feeling like I was going to throw up. I almost did throw up.

And I have no good reason for this. I know when I started feeling horrible today, but it can't just be because of Teen Arts. Today's the play, so maybe it's lack-of-Stina. That can't be all, though. I hate when I can't figure out exactly what's bothering me. I can't deal with things if I don't understand them.

But I do know that I really don't want to deal with the Teen Arts thing. I'm not even going to write in detail about it, that's dealing with it. And then I feel guilty, because other people at my lunch table had their own private crisises today, both more pressing than mine.

And then I start thinking again. I want to know what I mean to people. Would the people I eat lunch with actually care if I wasn't there? I'm pretty sure they don't mind me being there, but I think they might be more neutral on the subject than anything else.

This is so, so stupid. I am not okay. The smallest thing and I fall apart. I don't want to deal with people at all. I don't even really want to be here. And I don't have any good reasons for the way I continuously fall apart.

reflect

:: 2005 2 March :: 5.15 pm

Valentine for Earnest Mann
----------------------------------
You can't order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two,"
and expect it to be handed to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
So I'll tell you a secret instead:
Poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn't understand why she was crying.
"I thought they had such beautiful eyes."
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. He really
liked those skunks. So he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.

-Naomi Shihab Nye

I just rediscovered this poem today. I heard it for the first time two summers ago when I had a writing group at camp. I like the first part best.

reflect

:: 2005 1 March :: 8.32 pm
:: Music: Weezer

reflect