Pictures February

Science

Today, two of my friends were discussing their honeymoon. (Ha, I almost typed homeyboom.)

Friend 1: We're not using Sandals.
Friend 2: Ahhh! Why not?
Friend 1: Because apparently Sandals is only for ridiculously hot people.
Me: (*wheeze* which you are.)
Friend 2: Which I am.

Silence, scribbling.

Friend 2: But we're not going to Germany!
Friend 1: Why not?!
Friend 2: Have you ever heard of ANYONE having --
Teacher: ALL RIGHT YOU GUYS, STFU.

Silence, more scribbling.

Me: I love science, because when you talk about it, it sounds trippy.
Teacher: RAAAAAAAWRRL. *huffs and searches for stocks*

I lol'ed.
It's shit like this that gets me addicted to chemistry.

Inspiration

Today, when I woke up, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, You are the end product of hundreds of years of fighting against racism and sexism. Oh, if you could only see the suffering that went into getting you where you are today. Remember your grandparents? "No, we don't serve Indians here?" Or your mom? "No, even though it's below freezing, you're not allowed to wear pants?"

Remember how your mom never got past geometry and your dad never got above a C in math until his junior year of college? Look at you. An 87 in precalculus. Girl, every step you take breaks stereotypes.

It was only then that I found the courage to get up and get dressed.

I am the next Woodrow Wilson.

Don't read this if you don't like curse words

FUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Fuck. My. Life. -.-

HORMONES!!!!

RAAAAAAGE!

-sigh-

J.D. Salinger

J.D. Salinger/Salisbury/Saliva is dead. Everyone at my school is so upset. If he was watching us now, which I suspect he is, he would be highly amused. I think he'd call us a bunch of phonies.

"You take a really sleepy man, Esme, and he always stands a chance of again becoming a man with all his fac -- with all his f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact."

Before Basketball

I'm in the midst of the 2.5 hours after school and before basketball, when you really don't want to commit yourself to anything super-important, but instead veg on the couch, eating dinner, checking Facebook, and registering for the SAT.

Wait, what?

The SAT?

Again?

Ugh.

Dreaming

I don't dream anymore. Or, rather, I do, but my dreams blend so seamlessly into my reality that it really isn't worth the trouble to distinguish them anymore. Last night, I dreamt I was in a sunlit room, eating cereal and writing, and then I woke up and I was in the room and just picked up writing where I had left off. I am living my dreams, which is odd, because isn't that what everyone wants to do? If I had a choice of what I wanted to do, I would never pick living my dreams.

I blame all of this on an even three-way split between powerful medication, the slow and rocky maturing of my mind, and my treacherous heart going about the process of healing itself. Bah. Love sucks. Like that hasn't been said a thousand times before. And even though I am in love, again, because I am a hopeless romantic and quite a needy person (which no one will ever believe) my mind keeps racing ahead at a thousand words a minute. It must be my calendar, because how else would I know that spring is coming? It has rained and rained in the desert, so that a river has formed behind my house and ducks have somehow appeared on its brown surface. Cold wintry rain. Unforgiving.

After Christmas, I stole a string of lights and hung them on my bedroom wall.