Could it be another change?

Ah, when it seems like you'd just like to yell and yell, what better place to go than the deep abyss of the internet?

Not that I have too terribly much to yell about, it's been an pretty good couple of weeks... couple of months....

Yes, it's mostly been the sort of happy where you can dance like a crazy person to Come On Eileen in an insanely twirly vintage dress and turn around to find three peers watching you through the office window, waiting to take a superlative picture. Not only that kind of happy, but also the happy where it doesn't really matter that they saw you and asked "......are you alone in here.....?" like there's something wrong with that. The kind that only grows when Boy comes in and dances with you even though he doesn't know the song and mostly he's just letting you twirl because that's what dresses are for.

It's weird to think that this time last year one person could make me want to sob and angrily dance to Kelly Clarkson and kill myself and kill him all at once.
Or that two years ago, when being with him would make me physically sick even though I didn't understand or know how to think about leaving.
Or that even now I still want to vomit just thinking about him.

It is weird, yes.

Shudder, but why am I blogging? It's late... and oh, I'm supposed to be yelling! Well, I think boys and republicans are stupid, that's why I'm yelling. By boys, I don't mean Boy who writes out Burns' "My Luve is like a Red, Red, Rose" for me and is absolutely amazed when I say I already know it. No, I mean boys who try to justify why certain situations aren't rape in the lunch room. Oh, how I long to verbally kill him. Seriously, my freshman boys are more mature than he is, they know rape jokes are never funny. I also hate boys that make misogynistic movies that I have to sit through during Film and can only clutch Daw's hand so I don't get up and leave and vomit. I also hate politicians (not even just boys) who talk about my rights and use them as political tools.

But yes, everything else is good, especially pecan pie. And the show. Do you know that feeling where you're so immensely proud of everything that you have to sit backstage and sob the entire show? Not even because it's my last, it just hurts to be so in love with like 20 million different people, the audience and the cast, all at once.

What else is my life? askldjfsdkljf okay it's over I'm done.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0NJuwx5gVQ

there are stars on my ceiling but i want ours

sometimes pants blogger is new worried about the mysterious volume of apparent views from russia and random middle eastern countries not that I don't love 713 (?) views from the motherland just blogger, are you drunk? Reader: Dear Mr. Snicket, What is the best way to keep a secret? Lemony Snicket: Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding. today was one of those good days that I want to remember and don't want to muck up with thoughts of the impending failure of my psych ap thus blogs oh the blogs that exist when I type on them and russian housemothers that do the reading of them oh the grammars I employ NONE OF THE PUNCTUATION except now it looks like i'm writing emotionally charged free verse but really I'm just scared of filling up all the white space over there now it's over here ew scary no! though quinlisk told me to stop writing poetry because I suck probably true but I wasn't actually writing about bees I promise I DIDN'T FUCKING MENTION BEES boy is afraid of bees and butterflies cute boy ugh no more returns its over. why am I writing? not because i'm sad at quinlisk, no! because, as mentioned, today. one of those days where you can listen to california gurls not once, nay, but TWICE! in addition to tswift (bridging on unironically! just kidding) and hall and oates and scatman john [but like not because you're upset and dancing to popular music is the only alternative to screaming,] rather this is the genuine need to dance like a crazy person because of adorable rompers and eighty degree weather and day fives and tall boys who write out "less than three." I ATE MEXICAN FOOD TONIGHT sometimes do you ever just want kfc like i'm a veggiemonster but they have chocolate cake and it just seems like cake chicken howdo??! chicken i have to pee topeka !!!!!!!!!!!

I really like french fries.

it's 12:14
thus
a blog post
despite the distinct lack of reasons
WHO NEEDS REASONS
just kidding
i don't have anything to write about
WHO NEEDS SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT
not me, no sir.
mostly just stress
stress upon stress resulting in a half a mental health day today
that's right
all of the stress
thus
can't even properly skip school
also
no use of pronouns
don't need pronouns.
WHO NEEDS PRONOUNS
yep.
it's been a long time since blogging.
other than that
things
tall boys are nice
other boys aren't
sometimes wegmans blueberry muffins are the best muffins ever
and they're only 4 for 4 dollars
so if I were you, I'd tap that
I hear yelling outside and it's really late is that a bad sign?????
I am awake outside and it's really late is *that* a bad sign?????
I came downstairs to the computer like two hours ago because my lung hurt and I thought that I should keep myself awake in case I died but my lungs stopped hurting and I'm still here and I'm working in less than holy poopies, in less than nine hours
so I shall sleep
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/1695860/Cycadeoidea
boy :)

pants.

With new school years... comes new confusion.
Oysh gabibble.
I just read the last year or so in my blogs (mind you, that's like a grand total of three posts) and after that... it's like, "WOW, MURIE, DID YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND OR SOMETHING?" Well cheah.
So that ended.
On my terms.
Fun stuff.
So school is exhausting. For the majority of the last weeks, I've spent over 12 hours at school a day. I am so tired. My schedule is wake up, school, rehearsal, yearbook, psatprep, home, homework, try to sleep. Lather rinse repeat....
...which is why I'm blogging.
Speaking of rehearsal. Mrs. Shomper is at it again with Romeo and Juliet, yours truly starring as the title character... the Nurse. But no, seriously, the nurse is what's up. She's making it neo modern. All boys in skinny jeans. You want monks? No, you get matrixesque religiousmaybe figures. I want to wear momjeans so bad.
I miss nysssa. I miss being with those people every day because I can feel myself growing apart from certain kids and ahhh. Sometimes I'll just look up in class and say to myself "Gosh, it's 8:52. I'm late to being early to movement class." And it's so weird to not have coffee in my hand, striding up the stairs to the dance studio in my rehearsal skirt and legwarmers, ready learn how to minuet.
I never posted all summer. Huh. I was going to have a nysssa blog. But I was too busy... hahaha. I thought I would have time to blog... yeeeeah.
Camp Cory was, as ever, a success. My cabin kicked butt, and I believe that I was the king of the counselors, as, that's right, I won the Game. The ace of diamonds is now named after me.
These have abruptly stopped being funny. maybe I should journal for real HA THAT'D BE REAL OLDSCHOOL.

New Post

Blogging. It happens.
New school year, new stress.
After NYSSSA, of course, this is all busy work.
I miss the days when the most horrifying thing was Lizzy, who, despite my lingering terror, I think I love to death. Oh, to be yelled at for schmacting, or for masturbating on stage, or for not telling my story truthfully. Oh, to be making the eiffel tower out of ice cream, oh to be seducing josef. Why did I have to leave? Life changing. It was life changing.
Did you know that I am horribly shy? That I can't stand to be in the spotlight if I have to be myself? That all previous conceptions of love I had were incorrect? That snorting powdered sugar you found lying around in the common room is a great idea? That I have made some of the best friends I will ever have? That maybe, just maybe, I, as just me, will always be enough?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjFaenf1T-Y
Well, that was a nice crying rant I just went on.
Junior Year. Is happening.
I am so busy, my entire week went like this: rehearsal for R&J, yearbook, homecoming responsibilities.
Last night was fun though. The dance was a sock hop, which most people hated. I loved it. I finally got to make a poodle skirt, a pursuit I lost all hope of when my best friend in fourth grade told me that "everyone does that, it's tacky" we all went out for milkshakes and everyone dressed up and we danced the night away - the twist, charleston, lindy, swing.
On a silly note, Juniors lost homecoming. Again.
The skit got second place though, so I'm fine. Whatever.
Okay, I'm mostly done. Thing of note: confusion. I wish I was asexual. Like a lot.

the three gs of imperialism: gold, glory, god... and girls!

remember that time, oh, that time when i auditioned for nysssa?
and i really, really, sucked?

i am one of thirty students, chosen from all of new york, who has been invited to the new york state summer school of the art's school of theater. not toe damned bad.
i'm a champion.
no one reads this, so i'd just like to take an un-judged second to just stew in how excellent this is. i was chosen, out of over 450 students. 6% of those kiddos were chosen. .2% of those kiddos are me.
mindblowing.
i'm still so shocked.
i might be kinda really good at this acting thing.
okay so i'm done.

i don't even know what else to write.

oh, the yearbook is indeed finished. (i'm just running over with grand news.) and i was indeed credited as an editor - the sole editor - of the minimag. fwa-cha!... and stuff.

i saw dr horribles live the other day. it was interesting. dr horrible had a ponytail. the bad horse chorus was positively wonderful though. speaking of musicals, godspell is coming up. i do declare that everything sucks, except for possibly everything that has to do with jeremy. he is such a delight.

enough rambling. i'm not even going to read this over. i'm sure it's less than... stellar, but you know.