Thing I've Learned #84: Without Change, There Would Be No Butterflies

Cheesy title, I know.

So here I am. In college. Just got back from classes. Funny how things happen so quickly sometimes. Seems like graduation was just yesterday. And then summer, and now...boom. College.

Honestly though, I'm scared to death of being on my own. Scared of what exactly, I don't know, but scared none the less. I cried like a baby my first night alone in the dorm. (Fortunately, my roommate hadn't arrived yet.) But I've felt increasingly better since then. And I know things will get easier now that classes have started. Especially because I have pretty awesome classes. All fun nerd stuff.

Intro to Ancient History was good. Or, it will be once we start doing things. Same with Art History II, though I'd much rather be in Art History I. Oh well. I like Bernini. :) Italian, however...well I showed up to the room and the lights were off and the door was locked. Uwahh....? I guess I'll just show up again Wednesday? Also, my textbooks should be here today. They aren't. Hopefully they'll arrive tomorrow, or I'm screwed.

So, first day of college, check. Hurray! xD Now let me go eat food and nap.

Yep, college kid to the bone.

Thing I've Learned #83: No Matter How Bad Thursday Gets, Friday is Always Better

Sometimes, it is a glorious thing to be wrong.

I thought he was clueless, I thought it was her and not me. I was wrong. It is me, and I am going on a date for the first time in my life. With a man who actually has the decency to open doors.

Now this is really starting to sound like bad chick lit. So I'm shutting up.

hing I've Learned #82: Boys are Oblivious, Girls are Cruel, and Both Suffer Delusions

I cried over a boy for the first time in my life today.

And the bad thing is that it wasn't even anything the dumb bastard said or did. He's the most perfect gentleman I've ever met, and I am oh so in like with him. And for a while, I let myself hope. He was kind and called me beautiful and I thought, perhaps, that he cared like I did. But he acts like a puppy around a girl who is not me, tripping over himself in eagerness to show off his art project. I didn't even notice. But we left the art room, and Sarah said, "You can tell how much he likes her." Somehow, I had let myself forget. And that little bit of hope died.

I don't know if her cruelty was an accident, or an intentional act of jealousy, but God it hurt.

I knew he liked her, but I was stupid and I forgot. I got halfway through a phone conversation with McKenzie before the tears started. She didn't even notice I was crying.

I know that this sounds like a page from a bad chick lit novel, the kind I never touch. And I feel like saying "heartbroken" is cliche and a total exaggeration...but I've gained a vague understanding of the concept. I liked him so much and I made the whole damn thing up in my head, just like a damn, stupid girl.

It was just...one of those days.

Thing I've Learned #81: Everyone and Their Little Brother is Gay These Days

It must be something in the water.

Not that I'm condemning it. My two very best friends are bi and I myself have had a wayward female experiment or two, after all. I'm just pointing out that it's something I've noticed.

Nor do I buy all this "depravity in society" crap. Um, hello, Roman senators were complaining about "kids these days!"

Anyway, the whole reason I'm bringing this up is because a friend of mine recently came out that he was bi, and none of his guy friends were too happy about it. So I spent 7th period doing damage control. It kills me to see people look at someone differently after finding out they're gay. That they can't seem to get around their prejudice to see that their "former" friend is still the same person they always were.

Let me tell you a story.

I grew up in a little nowhere town in central Pennsylvania. It's one of those places where shotguns are common place, roadkill is dinner, and you fit in, love Jesus, and be conservative, or else. My best friend, who I've literally known all my life, has always been what They'd call "different." She's an artist, a little bohemian, and an anime freak. She always had a rough time with other kids, but she has a few dear friends, and I'm proud to call myself one of them.

Last summer she started dating this girl, sweet, "different," everything she needs and more. Well now the whole fuckin' town's in an uproar, because, holy Jesus, there's a damn homosexual liberal on the loose! Call the priest, call the police, we got a sit-u-ation on our hands! After they had time to cool off, her family's been pretty chill with it. (I always told her her mom was cool. She never believed me.) Her girlfriend's parents, however, were so freaked out they forbid them from seeing each other outside of school. High school, especially high school in hillbilly hell, is not so forgiving. Almost none of her friends associate with her anymore.

She called me about a month ago to tell me that a mutual friend of ours, and very, very dear friend that we'd both been close to since childhood, was no longer speaking to her because of her girlfriend. I cried in the shower for almost an hour.

Anyway, that was a rambling and roundabout way of saying this, but it really upsets me to see friendships ruined by bigoted hatred. It upsets me to see bigoted hatred in general. I feel like I can't even talk to my other friend anymore, because I don't want her to force me to take sides. And yet, I feel like she already has. I'm not going to side with her against my best friend. I'm not. I can't. But I don't want to lose her either. She's been very dear to me for a very long time. I wish there was some way to get some sense through that thick, close minded, Catholic skull of hers. Make her see that there's nothing wrong with love. That she's still the same person that she's been having sleepovers with and giggling over Disney movies with since age 10. I didn't know what to do when my friend told me about this mess, and I don't know what to do now.

I'm sorry I turned this into such a rant. It's not worth your time anyway.

And on that note, Fuck you, provincial hometown of mine. I hope you look at me, and her, and know that you failed in your narrow minded indoctrination. I hope you realize that we are strong, and you are afraid. I hope that when you open your eyes enough to look up out of your Bible and into the rest of the world, you shit yourself in fear. I hope you learn your lesson. I hope you learn it hard.

Go to hell.

Thing I've Learned #80: When in Doubt, Ask Yourself, "What Would D'Artagnan Do?"

True, he's arrogant, brash, swaggering, and a bit of a brat, but no one compares to D'Artagnan when it comes to literary feats of bravery and loyalty. Except perhaps for his three famous companions.

I've finally gotten around to reading The Three Musketeers. I attempted to start a few years back, but it was FCAT week, and I had a head cold, and just...bleeerrgh. It didn't happen. So, I picked it up again a few weeks ago and started reading it again.

Okay, okay, so that's a bit of a lie. I did have an ulterior motive for choosing now to read it. You see, I just recently read another lovely book named All For One, a spin off musketeer novel by Nicki Bennett and Ariel Tachna, based on the idea that the three musketeers were, well, lovers.

Ah, could you expect anything more from me? :D

So, I finished that and dove straight for the original. And I just finished watching the movie with Sarah not a half an hour ago. And let me tell you, its humor value increases tenfold when you are watching it with a threesome in mind! Heh heh...

Oh, what a horrid child I am! As it is said in The Thirteen Clocks, "We all have flaws, and mine is being wicked."

I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind my dearest McKenzie that you swore to name your firstborn son D'Artagnan...I intend to hold you to that.

Thing I've Learned #79: It is Absolutely Possible to Become Addicted to Books

Don't laugh. It's true.

I suffer from said book addiction. Fiercely. I eat, sleep, and breathe slash novels. (Especially ones that involve the British Royal Navy. Sexy men, period clothing, and boats? Oh, yes please.) I realized today it's been about three months since I got new books and I nearly had a coronary. I went immediately to Amazon.com to remedy the situation.

You see, I've been craving new books for some weeks now, but the problem is this: what am I going to do with all my m/m erotica novels in college? Well obviously I intend to bring them, so the more accurate problem is, how the hell do I get them there with my mother being none the wiser?

So, since I already have more of these novels than I'd care to admit, I have refrained from buying anymore. Or, that was my intent.

I have no willpower. My soul is weak. And I'm buying literary porn. Oh yeah, I'm going to hell. :)

As for the more normal aspects of my life, government projects are pointless, AP lit work is annoying, the AP art history exam looms, and I increasingly wonder what the point of fourth quarter is for seniors. And yesterday, I got to play dress up. We drove out to Brooksville to take my senior pictures with Kali. And let me tell you, I could be a model. Change clothes four times a day, have someone do your hair and makeup for you, stand around and look pretty....cake. Anyone can do that. And Kali cooperated quite nicely. Well, mostly. She got kind of annoyed with standing still after a while, haha. But it was tons of fun and I can't wait to see how they turned out.

And we didn't get home until 10:30. Which is AWESOME. And also means I should have gone to bed earlier today. I meant to. But you know what they say, the best laid plans...

So, hello, Advil...sleeping pills...bed...

Thing I've Learned #78: April is FAIL

'Nuff said.

Seriously though. Whoever invented April needs to just die. Or, correction, whoever invented AP exams needs to just die.

It is three weeks to the day until my AP Art History exam. Do you know where we are? The Baroque period! That's where we were supposed to be at Christmas. CHRISTMAS!

Holy mother of God we're fucked.

On the bright side, I'm doing my senior pictures tomorrow, which means I get to skip (part of) school (again) and play dress up. :D I think I packed like half of my wardrobe to bring with me, haha! I'm such a girl some days. Not that that's a bad thing, considering I am, in fact, female.

Also, I feel like death warmed over. Every muscle in my body aches for no fathomable reason. The only rational explaination I can come up with is that I must fight crime in my sleep. O.o

Oh hell, I just remembered I have a test on Thursday. And a shitload of other work to do this week.

Oh fuck. I hate April.

Thing I've Learned #77: Don't Hit Your Kid or He'll Become a Serial Killer

Today's lecture in forensics was "The Macdonald Triad, or, Mrs. Stevens Notes on Parenting." Basically, it covered two things:
One, if you beat your child and destroy his self confidence, you're setting him up for a future of murder.
Two, children understand more than you think.

Is this significant? No, not really. Not until you have kids, at least. It was just something I learned.

In other news, going to New York today to spend the weekend with family I don't particularly like. And that I just saw a week ago. Extended family is a necessary evil, I understand and accept this fact. However, that comes with the acknowledgement that you are only supposed to see them at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and maybe one or two other assorted times throughout the year. Twice in a week...that's a little much for a girl to handle. Especially when they are drunk and/or Catholic and one of your cousins is a lesbian and no one wants to talk about it which makes for awkward conversations and the littlest ones are screaming annoyances and the middle ones are preteen brats and all you want to do is sit and read your books and have FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE AND QUIET. FIVE MINUTES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

I love my family. I really do. But they are Italian and I wish they had a volume button.

Thing I've Learned #76: The Smallest Things Can Make You the Happiest

Every time I read Captain's Surrender, I squeak. I must have read it three, four, five times by now, and everytime, I positively squeal at the words, "Peter Kenyon, will you marry me?"

It's gotten to the point where I read the book just for the pleasure of those six words.

It's a silly thing, really. A mere trifle. And yet every time, it delights me to the core. I can't help but grin from the sheer romance of it. The beauty of it, just...oh!

If you have something like that, something silly and simple that makes you so happy you could cry...well, that's special. Don't ever let it go.

Thing I've Learned #75: Historical Drama is Way Better Than Real Life Drama

Allow me to present two facts today.

Thing Number One: I have spent my entire high school career avoiding drama.

Thing Number Two: Today Sarah and I watched the premiere episode of The Borgias.

These things may seem unrrealated, but I assure you they are not. First of all, let me say that I wholly approve of this show. (So far.) It's rare that actors portray historical figures the way I perceive them in my head, and with the exception of maybe two people, Borgias is spot on. Juan is perhaps the best. Slimy, rotten cockroach. Perfect!

But how does this tie into the lack of drama in my life? As proof that we have no social life, my friends and I gossip about historical persons more than real living people. For instence, Sarah and I spent much of the show muttering about how Lucrezia needed to jump off a cliff and Giulia Farnese is such a whore. Just like "normal" teenagers do when they watch Gossip Girls, or whatever it is high school girls watch these days. Historical drama is really the only drama I can tolerate. Girls that sit around whining about their boyfriends or skip class to go sob in the bathroom, I just want to punch them in the face and be like, WOW, GET A LIFE.

So, at the end of the day, I went home and read Cantarella. Oh, Cesare Borgia <3 Please marry me.

Thing I've Learned #74: Everyone Awesome is Going to Die Before I Get to Meet Them

FIRST BRIAN JACQUES, NOW DIANA WYNNE JONES?! WHAT THE FUCK?! I'd better hurry up and publish a novel before ALL THE AWESOME WRITERS OF THE WORLD DROP FRIGGIN DEAD! SERIOUSLY GOD, KNOCK IT OFF! WHO'S NEXT, SHERWOOD FREAKING SMITH?

No. Knock on wood. I never said that. Don't even think about it.

Thing I've Learned #73: Angels Are Badass

Been readin' me some Paradise Lost. And finally got around to reading Cassandra Clare's City of Glass, which has been sitting on my shelf for approximately half a year. And you know what? I don't buy that angels-sitting-on-fluffy-white-clouds-playing-serene-harp-music crap. Nuh uh. Uh, hello? They're like God's army. Hosts of heaven and flaming swords and all that. They're supposed to be scary. "Haha, Lucifer, my hoards of lovely women dressed in white will sing you to death!" Um, no. Just no. They're that good kind of frightening. The kind of frightening that makes your jaw drop in awe, but also makes you think you don't ever, ever want to piss them off.

More beautiful and terrible than the dawn. But I digress, that's Tolkien, not Milton.

Thing I've Learned #72: I Do Not Like the Nose Pot

I think I'm getting a sinus infection. Boo.

I've had a headache for like a week now. And I never get headaches. My head just feels like...asdjfhdufhadkfjgdf. Just like that. Plus my temperature is like 99. Which isn't exactly a fever but not exactly normal either. Maybe I just run warm. Or I'm unknowingly incubating aliens. Yeah. It's probably that.

So you've probably heard of the weird mini teapot that you use to pour saline through you sinuses? I hate it. So much. And I don't really get its purpose anyway. Clean out your sinuses? IT'S SALT WATER. TAKE A DECONGESTANT. So why did I use it? I really don't even know. Vain hope. And the fact that I already took a decongestant. Damn you, pseudophedrine and phenylephrine. Damn you to hell.

Can you tell that I'm not feeling well? The less well I feel the less sense I make. I'm liable to start spouting off nonsense about, oh I don't know, combustible bunnies or some such nonsense.

Thing I've Learned #71: Sometimes It's Good to Stress Over Little Things

Hey there blog world, it's been a while! What prompted this sudden returned to online ranting? Who knows. But it's good to get things off your chest, one way or another. Got the last of my college letters yesterday. From Brown. Didn't get in. Annoyed, yes. Devastated, no. In a way I'm almost glad. It makes my decision that much easier. So, now I'm 99.9% sure I'll be going to Ohio Wesleyan University. Of which I love everything about except the Ohio part. Ah well, two out of three ain't bad.

Now that I'm done fretting and worrying over college decisions, I can stress over something much more mundane and feminine: Prom dresses! Considering ordering one online, but it's coming from Hong Kong so I don't know if it'll be here in time, but so far I hate all the ones I've found in stores...so, minor stressing ensues. No big. It's nice to worry about something inconsequential for once.

In other news, it's spring break this week, and the weather is positively rotten. Way to go, Florida. Also, I have a shitload of retarded AP Lit homework to do. Eh, I think I'll go watch a movie.