The Acronym Stands For Nothing.
Friday. 12.4.09 10:05 pm
listening to: my own humming
SATs are tomorrow. Who's pumped?! (Katie is!)
Because this is the easiest step towards college ever! You just do it and hope for the best! Not too much preparation, no year-round learning... You just review some old stuff, take a couple of practice tests, then get up one day and knock that sucker out!
What could be simpler? I mean, other things you have to do to get into college deal with asking teachers for references, writing long essays about vague subjects, and actually doing well in school. That, and knowing every detail the colleges want to know about you. such as social security numbers, e-mails of people, courses, parents' colleges, parents' work stuff...
This is the easiest part. Just sitting down, taking something that was originally an IQ test.
So simple. Let's do this thing.
SAT has stood for a lot of things, but they changed it to mean nothing. Now it's just a meaningless acronym.
That makes me more nervous than the test itself.
Friday. 11.27.09 12:33 pm
listening to: "Id Engager"
The other day, a couple of kids were walking through Michael's with foam swords. As I walk past, one of the kids looks back at her mom, then quickly stabs me and keeps walking.
Never in my life have I had so much hope for the next group of youngsters.
I've bound together my ticket, a PowerBar, a bundle of number two pencils, and a list of things to remember to bring for the SATs. It doesn't take long to become a veteran of this trade.
Here's hoping for a 2200. My writing score is about as boss as it will ever get, so I really have to focus on owning the heck out of math.
Otherwise, the last holiday hurdle has been jumped, and we're running towards the big kahuna. Time to get presents together, and make sure no one was left off the list. Time to hope and pray that everything gets here on time, and that everyone who gets something will like that something...or those somethings.
Which reminds me: I finally gave Seth a dreamcatcher I made him a LONG time ago. That's the thing about them, though; once I make a dreamcatcher with someone in mind, it isn't mine, or anyone else's. It is that one person's dreamcatcher, forever.
Sometimes, I wish that wasn't true. But usually, it's a beautiful thing, and a good motivator.
He seems to like it.
Time to go somewhere.
Sunday. 11.8.09 2:54 pm
listening to: American Names
mood: Unusually inspired
thinking about: This filthy room. Obsessing is more accurate.
Somehow, my mother managed to fight with me about a frozen pizza.
I am significantly bothered. It's understandable, because she's been out of town as of late, that she might be a bit crazier than usual on return. I expected this. Entirely, yes.
Just one more year, I tell myself. One more year and I will be away at college. One more year and I don't necessarily ever have to come home again. Just to visit.
Oh, sweet words.
This neighborhood has kind of morphed with the children. We used to basically have toddlers to middle school kids. Not many kids have been born since that time, so we're all kind of growing up and moving out. It's weird how your neighborhood sometimes follows you in its changes. Instead car pools trudging off to drop kids at their respective schools, there are idiot teenagers zipping around like cats don't cross streets all the time. Kids don't pop around outside as much. Things seems a little bit colder, and I'm considering just living in the country, where there aren't really neighborhoods. Just streets.
Anyway. >.> What's been going on. Er...
The biggest things I've been thinking about: goals, SAT scores, and school.
It's a pretty lame mentality. It would be really nice to go back to the time when fleshing out thoughts about life was my "thing." But now it just seems like a weird waste of time. We complicate things so much. We want so terribly to leave our marks on the world.
I just want to make a good living and do everything on my life list (some of the bullets: Ride an elephant. Blow up some sort of fruit by any means necessary. Serenade some as he/she stands on a balcony). That's all I want! And to feel young even when I'm fifty-seven.
The thing about lists is that they keep me sane. They keep me...goal-oriented. I don't honestly know what would happen without my big book of lists.
Probably go crazy.
Anyone else just have something that keeps him or her sane? It seems like we all cling to something for sanity.
Best Reaction Ever
Friday. 10.9.09 9:28 pm
Me: "...Today was my mom's birthday..."
Steigen: "How old is she?"
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