Chaos Ensues (A Post That Should Have Happened Over a Month Ago).

I hate it when so much has happened since my last post that I don't know what points to highlight and elaborate upon. Usually when it happens, I chicken out and procrastinate for as long as possible. I nearly wrote this last night, but I stayed awake until six and didn't consider blogging until four. I don't trust myself to make decisions that late at night, because it would probably derail into how much I love a guy who can cutely pull off a fishnet shirt, and that's a post for another time. I'm also being pestered to write on boobs sometime (hi Dillion), so.. I suppose that will also happen eventually. Dearie me.

Excerpts of Semi-Significant Conversations From the Last Two Days.

*Monday, during lunch, in the theatre stairwell.

Simon: *walks in, looks to the left to see a little Andrea who has been creeper-staring at him from behind the window in the door for the last several minutes, then proceeds to sit down next to the trash can.*
Lauren: "Oh, Andrea, tell Simon the good news!"
Andrea: *is standing facing Lauren, turns to her right to Simon.* "I'm pregnant."
Simon: *look of kind-of-okay-ness*
Lauren: "Whatnddfgkg the OTHER good news."
Andrea: "It's not yours."
Simon: *same reaction, nod.*
Lauren: "The BETTER news."
Andrea: "It's Fox's."
Lauren: "... Y'know, I don't even know if GSA is above or below that... Ummm..."
Andrea: "Oh by the way I got into GSA."

Oblige me by not Actually Reading This Rant.

I think, in fancy-psychology-people terms, there should be a word for teenage-girl-specific bipolarity. Over the weekend and today, I've barely been able to spend an hour within the same mood. I started sending the anonymous llama online to calm myself down after a fight with Lauren, and that helped, but tonight I'm just... Argh.

Cyberbullying and Some Angst Regarding the Silent Treatment.

Augh. Has somebody coined the term "second semester blues" yet? I'm becoming rather suspicious about this, because second semester last year was also quite a drag... I blame Honors classes. SO. MUCH. It's only a week in, and I feel like I have no other life! And once I'm frustrated with one thing, everything else becomes much more frustrating and it goes on and on and on.

There was an assembly today during Links regarding cyberbullying and how to prevent it. Now, because a friend of mine, and fairly recognizable figure throughout my grade, was suspended about a week ago, and he has been harassed all throughout high school, I know a lot of people were angered by the hypocrisy within the assembly. We're supposed to report bullying that goes on, directed at us or not, and what happens when we do? "Avoid them." In some cases, that's really just not enough. It wasn't for Zach, anyway. Sometimes it feels like the homophobia is around every corner. I'm not a lesbian, but I've seen the hate speech around. Diva or not, it's not something he deserves to be harassed for. Apparently the Advanced Drama class discussed it during 4th period, right afterward, and were fairly frustrated by the amount of homophobia, racism, and mental-disorder-related bullying here. I'm not in that class, but some approaches to the matter have been brought up.

I, on the other hand, have been looking inwardly and yelling at myself for my own hypocrisy. It's not necessarily cyberbullying, but I am a horribly feisty person and lately have noticed that the people I used to be close to hate me now, or at least are becoming rather distant. Some I don't care too much about, but in a bout of intense frustration, I called Simon earlier tonight to apologize. I left him a short voicemail message (and possibly screwed myself over by mentioning that I don't expect forgiveness? Fawk.), but I doubt he listened to it. If he did, I doubt he cares. I don't expect, or really deserve forgiveness. But not being acknowledged kind of just pisses me off. He probably thinks I want something out of him. But he should also know by now that I never know what I want. That's what got us into this latest mess in the first place!!

I don't know how to fix the pain I've caused him. I don't know if I can. For all I know, even if we do begin speaking again, it'll just be the next cycle of the never ending process of us being friends, then friends with a lot of sexual tension, then hating each other because we can't deal with each other's issues. Blaaaaah I need tissues for my issues, along with some sleep.

In a state of super-duper turmoil,
Andrea! <3

Semi-Surviving.

So I survived, as shown above, the first three days of second semester, despite the sudden onslaught of homework, massive English class divided very frustratingly in its work ethic, and the utter lack of cute boys. I'm not going to say it's Hell or prison or anything like that. I'm not that typical. But I really can't say I'm feelin' this semester yet. I guess we'll see!

I also survived Ali's birthday party yesterday. Ali said she was so proud of me for not killing anybody. Two of the three people who despise me weren't there, as after inviting them, they assisted in pulling some crap which neither of us appreciated, but Simon was still there. I nearly lost it once, so I kinda went and bummed around in Ali's room for a couple minutes. I don't know. He and I are both kind of attention whores, but he still has the more powerful presence and it tends to piss me off. I had to come back before anybody came to retrieve me, though. Plus we were playing this game (link for rules that I'm too incomprehensible to explain. Our game was a little different, though. We didn't use sentences; we took random words and phrases), and it's far too hilarious a game to pass up.

The eleven of us (Simon, Little Simon who we speculate wants in Ali's pants, nice guy though, Ella, David, T, Ashli, Stephanie, Erin, and Ali's mom, Ali, and I) all seem to have rather odd imaginations and/or drawing skills that render all shapes ambiguous, so most everything became pretty convoluted by the end of the night. We managed to avoid a lot of perversion (minus a man with an elephant trunk for a penis, Ali's magnificent butt, and the implications of putting an Asian schoolgirl and an octopus together, amongst other things), though. "A classy velociraptor" somehow became "milkstache," though. I credit this to Ali's mother's velociraptor-drawing skills.

Overall, everything went well (even if my pride went down the drain realizing that Simon and Simon have better Just Dance skills than I do), and I'm sure we're all relieved. I spent the night there, along with Ella, and didn't realize beforehand that I ought to bring clothes, so now Ali's Tom Brady jersey is at my house... If they won, then I'm going to pretend to be a fan right now. There's stuff relating to the playoff's everywhere, and frankly, I could care less.

Okay I can't deny my hunger any longer. I need food,
Andrea! <3

Poetic and Parasitic Worries and Rants.

Today was the last day of first semester. I have one final to take, in Stagecraft, so I need to attend for first period on Friday and that's it. I also need to pick up my recommendation letters and application for GSA then. GSA is Governor's School of the Arts, a three-week arts program over the summer which West Virginian sophomores can apply to. Approximately 100 of us will make it in. I've decided to apply in creative writing, with a poetry portfolio (God knows how, 'cause I certainly don't). I have been panicking over this since October. I believe I have enough poetry, but because 8 pages, double-spaced, is not nearly as much room as it might sound like, I must be incredibly selective. And I have to think, will the judges like the same things I like? Is my sometimes risque or defiantly bitter nature pushing it a too far? Should I vary the poems' subjects, or should I try to stick to an overall theme? Soooooo many questions. Luckily, the portfolio isn't actually due until March at the time of the actual auditions. I just hope my theatre directors writes me up a good recommendation letter. I'm not worried about my English teacher from last year whom taught me almost all I know about poetry. She loves me (oddly enough, because I was always talking throughout that class). There's also my essay to deal with. It constitutes EXACTLY 500 words, the word limit. It just drives me ca-raaaaaaaaazy.

Part of the reason I'm so worried about this is because I can be very competitive when it comes down to it. I'm not nearly feisty as I once was; however, I won't let myself live it down if I don't make it, especially if anybody else within the creative writing field does (I only know of two others in it; one of whom I'm sometimes vitriolic best friends with), or the first of my two ex-boyfriends does, just because he beyond irritates me. I wanna stab him in the eye with my stilettos every time I see him anymore, which is quite the problem seeing as we have several mutual best friends and share a love of the theatre. It's as if he's some species of subconscious parasite and is everywhere I am. I can't stand his face, and if he makes it in and I don't (despite being in two different categories), I'll never show my face to myself ever again. HIDE THE MIRRORS AND THE WATER. I CAN'T DO IT.

As I've said at least one other time in my life, spite is the best motivator.

Love, a horrible person living off anger tonight,
Andrea <3