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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| January 31, 2005: Ask Mom about O.M.
I can't help digging though early school days once in a while. Oh, 5th grade band..
Regions auditions are creeping up like a pervy old man. He's all hot and sweaty and lives in a dark corner of the school auditorium. urrgh.
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| and he waved back. Then I bent down to pick up the Amazon box off the doormat. My official SAT guide is here, sitting on the table next to me. Right inside the front cover, there's a bright yellow Errata sheet filled, front and back, with errors in the practice tests. How could you do this to me, CollegeBoard?
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| when you turn an extra page and keep reading without realizing it? I think I should put the book down and sleep. Remember DEAR time (drop everything and read)? My fourth-grade self loved it. Reading has become such a chore since then. Tragic :C It's only fun when it's on your own terms.
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| of being awake all the time. Self-evident, right?
I just thought I'd jump on the I-love-music blog bandwagon. It just hit me on the late bus home today as I sat fuming about the canceled quintet rehearsal (communication errors ftl) and my waste of an hour. Not that it hasn't hit me before, but now that school work has been piling on, I've been missing out on practice. Over the summer it was a chore, but only because I had to be reminded constantly. I regret that.
Well, it's not only the music. I miss my crafts too. My pent-up frustrations and creative energy (oh, how pretentious) need a release. I need to channel it all somewhere safe so my brain doesn't explode. Doodling half-asleep in English doesn't cut it D: I think I'll finish knitting that piano scarf. Or rather, start over, since the eight inches I finished last summer are starting to felt. Wool yarn sucks.
In other words, I'm not happy unless I'm creating something. Too much writing. Not enough art. Where's the self-expression? (I realize words are art too. Not my type. Obviously. The text box is just a text box :c ) My fingers are jittery.
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| sometimes i wish people would gossip about me. i like the attention. call me shallow, whatever.
i feel like all we ever do at jp is push to be better than everyone. better grades, better music, better OM. better work ethic. screw you, I CARE more. no, i work harder. i'm the good kid. i'm the one everyone looks up to. i deserve it. what have YOU done? excuse me, i'm off to sell my soul to collegeboard. no. what? no, really, it wasn't all just for college.
in other news, cats fascinate me. i'm not angsty, i promise.
EDIT: she's curled up in my lap and purring smugly with that little cat smirk. what elegance.
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