to the place inside

mood: sad
music: da doing god-knows-what to the shower
CPCetc: the moping alarm is about to go off in three...two...one...

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We had to write this really random essay in AP Wang yesterday. I actually managed to write one that I liked, even if it was completely pointless. And I decided I was going to put it up yesterday but didn't get the chance. So... yeah. Here it is.

My first four days as a senior are behind me and I couldn’t be happier. Honestly, this week has been ridiculously long and I’ve been dying for next week to show up. Whilst I’m still trying to adjust to the whole ‘school’ ordeal, I’ve been bored out of my mind. Next week, however, interesting things actually start happening! It’s mad!
For example:
Next week we start Madrigal rehearsals. This is where a relatively small group of people get together to sing incredibly old music and dream about eating tasty food. Not just any food, mind. No, we dream of tasty food. Hence why ‘tasty’ is used as an adjective in that sentence. (Adjectives are important in an English class. Or so I’m told.) Also, next week births the newest year of theatre here at University High School. We have a meeting on Tuesday, where we get to meet all the little freshmen, and then auditions on Wednesday, where we get to run around and make complete fools of ourselves. If there’s anything Theatre Kids like best, it’s making complete fools of themselves.
However this week had no such nougats of joy. This week, of course, school began, which is all well and good. Except starting school after three heavenly months of happy leisure-time is about as easy as pulling cavities out of a very hungry and increasingly annoyed crocodile. Or at least I assume so. I’ve never actually met a crocodile, annoyed or otherwise. But the point still remains that starting school after three heavenly months of happy leisure-time is no easy task. Not only must one start school, but one must start schoolwork. And if one is as off as I, one must begin seven o’clock dance classes. Therein begins the never ending struggle of why it was, exactly, that one began attending those seven o’clock dance classes when one should most assuredly be in bed or in the shower or perhaps in the kitchen eating Frosted Mini-Wheats. One must take into account one’s fiber, after all.
But I digress.
It’s not that I want the school year to end, because ending the school year actually entails making decisions. I’d just rather not have to begin school at all. That’s a fair desire, isn’t it? School can be incredibly tiresome some days, especially right after the start of it. That, and senior year is, apparently, the most important year of your life. You have to decide where to go for university and what to do after university and other sorts of terribly difficult and time-consuming matters. Personally, I’m still of the opinion that I’m about ten years old and have no reason whatsoever in thinking about ‘adult’ things. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t agree with me.
In short, this entire essay has been a complete oxymoron. For while I’m exceedingly happy that the dreaded First Week of School is coming to a close, I have no interest in actually completely the equally dreaded Last Year of School. I suppose that means you ought to disregard everything I’ve said, other than the fact that I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting a crocodile.

Paiga and Erik's party was really fun last night. We had pizza and 'party games' and an all-around good time. And then I came home. And I took Marion all her stuff back. And the good feeling died.

So as a warning to all of you who will be forced into hanging around my physical prescence for any length of time, I'm going to be rather depressed for a week or so, maybe/probably more. So if I go off into my own little world and start looking all pathetic, feel free to ignore me. I'm sure I'll go away eventually.

Christie! I need to steal Amelie from you! That is all!!!