| damn the william and mary admissions people! |
[24 Apr 2003|05:08pm] |
|
So, current count of people I know with acceptance letter from w&m- 7+
Total count of people I know with rejection letters from w&m -0
Me- no letter.
Conclusion: They haven't sent (or we haven't gotten rejection) rejection letters yet.
Oh well, I guess.
|
|
| Spirit Week I |
[20 Mar 2003|10:54pm] |
Well, as spirit week number one comes to an end, I'd like to recap a turning point in my senior year.
Late last week, Doc and Ross decided that Monday was pob comeback day. So, you got it, on monday, peope brought their pogs to play with.
On tuesday, the emptiness sunk in, and we realized the necessity for the idea: If we were going to survive the horrible boredom till the end of the year, we're gonna have to make an effort. So from here on out, every day is a spirit day. True, Doc did bring his ukelele, but it wasn't as fun without many participants.
Wednesday was really the crowning moment-switch clothes day. Between every period, Doc, Dan, and I rotated clothes.
Some highlights:
Andy: Hey, Dan. You weren't wearing that yellow shirt earlier. I heard you talking to Angela yesterday. You switched clothes.
Dan: What?
Andy: Don't give me any crap, you switched clothes!
Me: Riiight.
Andy's friends: (laughing at him)
Andy: I noticed, don't think I didn't.
Me: Wait, so you think we switched clothes in the middle of the day? Ha..... (Me and Dan walk off)
Andy: Bastards.....
Andy's friends: (still laughing at him)
John Stahl: Doc, weren't you wearing a yellow shirt earlier?
Doc: Hmm?
John Stahl:......Nevermind.
I'll keep you updated as the trend continues....
|
|
| War day |
[17 Mar 2003|08:32pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
awake |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
"Mrs. Potter"- the counting crows |
] |
It's been a day of not knowing stuff.
Well, it seems like we're going off to fight the fight. Are we the greatest generation, or are we greedy oil mongers? For all the debate and all the argument, I am completely unable to say. I want to trust the people in authority, but even they seem to disagree. It's a shameful moment for me, the classically opinionated quaker boy, now Speaker of the House in the model congress.
On a completely different note-I had a very surreal incident this afternoon. After rehearsal, I was dropping my stage companion at her car and I saw Lindsey walking through the Oakton parking lot. I said a quick goodbye to Angela (probably too quick, but again, it was very surreal) and drove over to say hello to Lindsey. I never even got out of the car-just talked through the window for a few moments. She was there playing tennis. She wore a skirt I'd never seen before (she only had one when we were together) and I must look completely different, what with glasses, a buzz cut, and pretty significant scruff. Even though the conversation was purely cordial, (we have nothing in common any more- I think that's why we split) I was excited to see her. After a while I said goodbye and drove off.
A strange thing has occurred to me. Despite the time it's been since we've been together- a little more than a year, I guess- the impact she had on me cannot be denied. Whenever you're with somebody, you like to feel like the only person in their life and the most important they've ever had. But everybody has histories. Even when you mean it when you say "nobody in the wolrd is like you" and "I'll never forget you" there's almost an unspoken clause shoved in at the end. A clause of perspective.
I think about the strange words and phrases and inflections I use, and the odd things I'm used to, and the typical things I'm not used to. I suppose there's a person behind every single thing about me.
Personal reminder: excellent peice of gossip that I'd rather not publicly disclose.
Ciao
|
|
| Major-Ass Update Post |
[13 Mar 2003|06:16pm] |
So things are beginning to come together.
I've talked to Kathryn a couple of times, and it's always strange. Things have changed radically, but it's still me and her, shootin the shit. We're good at that.
I had a good conversation with Mika last night. Really, good, actually. Not a lot was said, I suppose, but more than usually passes between us directly. There's a little groove of mika-ness that I like most; when it's just us talking. There's just this quality in her voice that sounds honest.
South Pacific is still terrible. I'll keep you updated. On the bright side, I do get to sing "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair" in a french accent. Seriously, who wrote this show? There must have been this big movement in the 50s and 60s- "Hey! World War II would be a great setting for an epic musical!" So you get Sound of Music and South Pacific by the same two shmucks. I mean, sure they're the greatest generation and all but please. Highlights from the show:
In the first 5 minutes, there is an enourmous musical crecendo, accompanying, on stage, in all it's theatrical glory....two people drinking cognac.
"Nellie, I have something to tell you. I had to leave France. I killed a man." Say it out loud. It's absurd.
Finally, the lovely ladies will be augmenting the house of cards lineup in a couple of weeks. The OHS battle of the bands is coming up, to be judged my the same gusy who gave us 3rd place at the skate quest thing, mostly because the guys from the other bands all took lessons from the judges. At least that's speculation. I mean, we're not the best, but we're not crappy high school punk. But one thign has changed-Steve is now taking lessons from one of the guys. Ah, sweet justice...
|
|
| boy oh boy |
[06 Mar 2003|06:23pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
wack |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
"seatle" |
] |
So basically I have no idea what's going on. And before any of you (and I know who you are) go and try and interpret that as the standard livejournal technique of conceling very specific thoughts with grand generalizations, hold it right there. You see, not only to I probably not know what's going on with what you think I don't know what's going on, I'm clueless about tons of other stuff too.
Ok. For one thing, Kathryn seems to be as confused and conflicted about our relationship as I am. I really felt good seeing her yesterday. It helped me put things in perspective. We had a conversation after I got home that kind of turned all of that on its head. You'd think that the one advantage to being the dumpee is that you don't have to make any decisions. Generally, things are pretty totally out of your control.
Also, Mika stopped by last night, which was such a great surprise. But I can't help but feel that she was rather ambivalent towards me. Argh! I love my monkeys! A lot! I feel like I can't do anything to prove myself monkey-worthy.
It must be the week of sketchy ex-girlfriend moments or something. S.E.G.M. Go ahead, use it in conversation. "I had a serious SEGM today," or "This can only lead to a terrible SEGM." Or, my favorite, "Hell is like a really bad SEGM."
|
|
| The streak is over |
[01 Mar 2003|07:25pm] |
There were no cliches, amazingly enogh. No "It's not you, it's me." No "You don't listen to me." No "I think we should be friends," though the sentiment was certainly there, on both sides. No "I think we should see other people," because as of right now, I don't think either one of us could date anybody else. I was too invested.
Last night was, amazingly, two people realizing that they may simply have a genuinely inexplicable personality conflict. We fit but we don't click. We could be married but we can't date. Ostensibly, neither of these statements makes any sense, and yet they describe this perfectly. All you need is love? I guess not, not when dealing with this.
Is it just that we've changed, or grown apart? Or has this always been there, lurking, unbeknownst to the two little monkeys frolicking in ignorance. Is this just a shifting, violent time in our lives that prevents people from focusing on one other person that intensely? I don't think so. And so the overwhelming sentiment is that I've failed at something. You take something great and lose it, set it down somewhere, forget to pick it up.
Things are funnier when you're breaking up. She said to me, "If I had to conceive of the perfect guy, you would be him." And I replied "Yeah, I'd be mine too..."
After the declaration of intents, I decided that we neede dot do something ridiculously fun. After a few moments of pandering about, we settled on Homestar Runner. She mentioned that sometimes, after the cartoons, if you waited long enough, patiently, something else wonderful might happen that you didn't expect. She got up to leave. We launched one more time into the wisdom of the idea, but we were defeated once again. She looked over at the screen.
"I guess nothing is gonna happen," she said.
"That's it," I agreed.
"It's over."
"Done."
"Fine," she said, and we started to laugh.
|
|
| Ice, ice, baby |
[26 Feb 2003|07:28pm] |
The roads, as slick as they were, provided the most exciting moment of today. After picking up some things at Shelley's house, the three of us, (Doc being the 3rd), were driving out of her neighborhood. Coming around a gentle bend, a mini van driven by a tall woman in a head shawl was stopped at an intersection. I start to turn the wheel, but there is no traction at all. We begin to slip, and we skid right towards the driver's door. I'm cranking the wheel as hard as I can, and braking as hard as I can (which I realize is bad driving technique, but it was a panicy moment) and it's not helping. Everything were extremely slow. In the final 10 feet I see the woman's face-confused but not frightened. I begin to comfort myself, saying-it's ok, you don't have a lot of experience driving on ice. Don't freak out Sam, don't freak out. The strangest part was that I assumed the driver of the van would be badly injured, and I recognized that I would be at fault for her harm, maybe her life. I didn't even think about he being hurt. I was more afraid of the guilt than anything else.
And in the last 2 inches, a breath away from the car, the tires catch just a little, and my littl prius scoots away and into a snow bank on the other side of the road. Of course we laughed hysterically for like 10 minutes, and got out to see if we had actually missed the car, after it had seemed so certain that we would in for it.
Feeling that for just those few seconds, those 50 feet, was truly strange. Even though I was muttering "shit shit shit shit" I was basically calm. I was doing what I could, or what I thought I could, to correct the error. I didn't scream or cry or shut my eyes. I was just totally there for that moment.
This is yet another example of my remarkable ability to get myself out of trouble. Luuucky.
|
|
| Back to school. |
[24 Feb 2003|07:09pm] |
Well, it's hard to post today. It's hard to post because it was not a happy day, but more because Doc posted the post of all posts, and has out-posted even my best ideas. So instead I'll jsut briefly discuss the past few days.
Saturday was another stupid House of Cards gig. We played on old person birthday party, where we were basically ignored. Better yet, because the room was so much smaller than promised, we were forced to improvise and perform as House of Cards Lite, a turned-down, half drum set version of our wanna-be-rockin selves. Initially the reaction I had was one of dismay. We don't play real shows. We don't know how to play real shows. This is no fun. But now I'm feeling refreshed and ready to rock out.
At least I was, until I got to school today. I have to make up one math test, take another after school because of all the snow. The two day physics test starts thrusday, I have two (count 'em, 2) english papers due this week, and, to top it all off, VHSL states is on saturday. So I spent anothe rlong day with an elevated heartrate, except for two bright moments.
First-Sarcastic Calculus Monday. It's a tradition. SO if you're doing a series, converge and diverge mean DIFFERENT THINGS than if you're doing integration. Why could't they pick different words? Also, why isn't 1/sin equal to cos? That woudl be perfect!
Second-I believe I resolved, or at least discussed, the issue I've been having with Tiffany. Rehearsal met a peak of conflict today, and talking about it was nice. A big releif, if only because it shows that I do care. So that made me feel better.
On to rockin out. I hope.
|
|
| The bandwagon |
[22 Feb 2003|01:46am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
awake |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
"the cause" |
] |
I had an excellent excuse not to have a livejournal for the longest time; I didn't have a code. My friends went about their daily business, assuming that I would not want a livejournal. For the most part they are right. The chances of me continuing journaling consistantly are slim. I have, however, been writing more and more frequently, so I suppose it is possible that I keep this thing updated.
Also, I suppose I can't bitch about people doing this wrong if I don't do it right myself.
There are a few things I have come to realize in the past 15 minutes, which is perhaps why this journal thing seems like such a good idea. The first thing is that I have realized that my dearest friends are people I genuinely admire. I oddly admire all of them for their intelligence and wit, so I'll leave those two things out of this completely.
Dan, your dedication to being happy is truly inspiring. I should give you less crap. I'm sorry.
Mika, thank you for your kindness, but espeicailly for you quiet, simple confidence.
Kathryn (better known as K-funk), I aspire to your incessant warmth and your genuine foundation, and I thank you for being able to show me all the things about me that I can change.
Doc, I am in constant awe of your sense of perspective and relativity. I wish I could see the world the way you do.
Rossifer, your curiousity is impeccable, your disregard for the tried-and-true is bitchin.
Tiffany, I don't know how you care for that many people, that much of the time. The reason we say you're like a mom is because you seem lightyears ahead in your wisdom and your ability to comfort.
Rose- you always seem to have every base covered-a regular renaissance woman.
So, in light of having such an excellent cast of recurring characters, I suppose my mission for my journal is this; learn as much from all you fools as I possibly can. It's better than beating myself up for the things I don't like about me. I love you all.
One more thing: On the way to Teocalli Tamale for lunch after band practice today, Ross, Doc, and I were reminded that every time you step into a car, you're making a black history moment.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
samattack's journal