Everything Old Is New

I got a new cell phone, and I emailed many of you to let you know my new number. If you didn't get an email from me about it and want the number, whether you had the old one or not, email me and I'll give it to you. I just don't really want to post it on here for all the world to see, you know. But everybody who's listed in my phone directory whose email address I had got an email, so that should cover most everyone. We'll see.

Go Boom.

You've played Minesweeper, haven't you? Sure you have. Well, I'm going to tell you this: when I was little, every time I lost a game of Minesweeper I used to wonder how come I always just happened to hit the mine that was in the little red box instead of any of the 39 mines in gray boxes. I mean, really, what are the odds?
On a similar note, I just finished exfoliating my lips with a combonation of baking soda and lemon juice, and while it stung like a bitch, my lips should now be very "soft and kissable," says Glamour. Cross your fingers.
And lastly, my comforter arrived today, ordered off Linens N' Things.Com because they didn't have it in stock in the stores. Yes it's called "Love Potion," and yes, Sara and I think I can and should use it to lure unsuspecting boys into my bed, or at least into my dorm room for a romantic Ramen dinner-for-two. Ah, college life.

Roommate Anxiety

I met my future roommate this afternoon. We met for lunch at Champps. And get this: she's nice! Really! Not only is she nice, but she's not a whore! We dispelled for each other any fears that either one of us would be bringing home boys and girls every night to have dirty sex with, and we discovered that we actually have a lot in common. Like, we both hate country music, our favorite non-Disney animated movie is Anastasia, and we both have a thing for Scottish accents. I think things will work out well. In other news, the chicken ranch wrap was really good.
I went with both my parents to see Finding Nemo tonight. They liked it, although I didn't really doubt that they would. They rarely like the same movies I do, but there's really no excuse for not liking Finding Nemo. No excuse at all.
On the way home from the movie, my mom turned around in the front seat and said to me, "Three weeks from tomorrow, you'll be starting classes." Three weeks from tomorrow. Three weeks.

'04

I have a feeling only a select few of you will be interested in this, but so be it. The 2004 American Presidential Candidate Selector. My results?

1. Kucinich, Cong. Dennis, OH - Democrat (100%)
2. Kerry, Senator John, MA - Democrat (89%)
3. Edwards, Senator John, NC - Democrat (88%)
4. Gephardt, Cong. Dick, MO - Democrat (88%)
5. Dean, Gov. Howard, VT - Democrat (82%)
6. Moseley-Braun, Former Senator Carol IL - Democrat (82%)
7. Daschle, Senate Minority Leader Tom, SD - Democrat (81%)
8. Lieberman Senator Joe CT - Democrat (80%)
9. Graham, Senator Bob, FL - Democrat (77%)
10. Sharpton, Reverend Al - Democrat (77%)
11. Bayh, Senator Evan, IN - Democrat (73%)
12. Dodd, Senator Chris, CT - Democrat (69%)
13. Hart, Former Senator Gary, CO - Democrat (23%)
14. Bush, George W. - US President (20%)

Kid Stuff

I'm in this mood that's half-restless and half-something-else, and I was thinking about what it was in the car when it hit me that I'm in the same type of mood that leads children to make forts out of furniture. I want to go into the living room and take all the cushions off the couch and build a wall, then break out the card table, drape blankets and beach towels stolen from my mom's linen closet over it to make a house, then make additional rooms out of the high-backed chairs from the dinner table. I did this all the time when I was a kid, but I never played pirates or something in it: we always played house. It sounds girlish and boring, and it was, but we didn't care. I remember pretending to be roommates in our fort in my Florida living room with my best friend Kimberly, and later I remember pretending to be neighbors in our fort in my Texas living room with my friend Mary Beth. On that occasion, we were neighbors married to celebrities--her to Brad Pitt, and me to Christian Slater (what can I say? 10-year-old!Amy went through a big "Bed Of Roses" and "Broken Arrow" phase). Oh, the life of a Hollywood wife. The forts we'd make, they'd take up the whole living room, and make all the couches unsittable and make the kitchen table chairless, but I'd insist on leaving them up for days, and sometimes my parents allowed me to and sometimes they did not. I remember sitting in a fort watching "Guts" and "Are You Afraid Of The Dark?" on Nickelodeon while eating peanut-butter-and-jelly, and this seems like such a better way to while away the hours than by reading blogs, or shopping for dorm room decor. And I'm not saying that I'm going to go tear apart my living room and turn it into a modern-day fort, but sometimes I think I'd like to, you know? That's all.

"Cheers, queers."

I'm a little bit disgusted in myself about just how much I enjoyed tonight's episode of Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. I mean, I figured it would be just another lame TLC show, only on NBC instead of TLC, but I was highly amused. And despite his sexual orientation, I think I have a little crush on Kyan Douglas, the gay guy in charge of grooming. Hey, he's hot! And after watching the show, I have to say that gay guys are much cooler than straight guys. Much.

Additionally, there's an interesting article about the Madstone, that theater in Sandy Springs, in the North Fulton section of today's AJC. I think we should start going there more often, despite the fact that Sandy Springs provides for difficult driving and that Laura and I almost got lost finding it.

Thursday Drive

It's partly crazy and partly comforting when you can navigate your way around the greater Alpharetta-Roswell area by thinking, "Okay, I've been lost here before, so I turn left here," and "I recognize this place from the last time I was lost here, so I know exactly how to get home." I'm lost a lot.
Today I went driving, hoping to find the elusive Bargain City that Pennington's raved about, but knowing that since she'd never told me exactly where it was, I would probably wind up lost in Roswell. Which I did, but that's not the point. The point is, I was driving around downtown Alpharetta and Roswell, and all of a sudden everywhere I looked were memories. I could just glance at a storefront or restaurant and I'd be bombarded with a barrage of memories of times we'd shopped there or eaten there or driven past there or discussed going there. It was nice to feel nostalgic. Of course, it was a little bit sad, too, thinking about how we're all leaving shortly and that we'd likely never go back to those restaurants or stores or shopping centers. It was a pleasant change of pace, though, from pushing all my memories away in hopes of staying happy. It's nice to remember.
It's also nice to have plans, and I am quite excited because I have lots of plans for the coming week or so. But before the summer's over, before college, before we all move on and away, I want to hang out with you. That's right, you. Call me and we shall make this happen.

Beyond Limbo

So I got my room and roommate assignment in the mail today. I'm in Brumby still, room 917, rooming with a girl from Marietta named Jessica Katz. Is there some connection here between the ninth floor of Brumby and the nine levels of Hell? I'm thinking yes.
I don't want to go to college.

The Ol' Switcheroo

We're different. You noticed? I realize that I practically just changed from the old Floating Boxes template to the Water Lilies one, but A) I'm tired of that one, and B) I wanted something simpler. This is simpler. Run your mouse over the colored blocks; I love it. So I'm hoping this one will stick, at least for a significant amount of time. I was going to wait to change until right before school starts, but I sort of fell in love with this template and decided not to wait any longer. It's kind of a bitch to edit, but it's mine and I love it.

Arg, Ye Maties.

I saw Pirates Of The Caribbean with Laura this afternoon, and I've got to admit it was quite a bit better than I'd expected it to be. Johnny Depp was rather badass as Cap'n Jack Sparrow, and I believe my opinion of Orlando Bloom has been completely turned around. He seems to be a fine young lad. But writing blogs about Pirates Of The Caribbean has become a bit redundant, don't you think? So I'll just say it was good and leave it at that.
Having left it at that, however, I find myself with nothing else to say. It seems that when life is boring, the blog becomes boring as well; my apologies. When something starts to happen again, this place'll be just bustling with activity, I promise.

You Got It, Dude.

I was really close to buying Mary Kate And Ashley's Greatest Hits, Vol. 3 in Target today. Very close. But then, thankfully, I came to my senses and decided against it. And honestly--can a pair of eight year olds really have "greatest hits?" Or any hits, for that matter? Granted, they're closer to eighteen than to eight, but still.
Speaking of the Olsen twins, what's going to happen when they actually become real live human beings one day? I mean, their entire career is based on the cuteness factor. But when one of them gets a DUI and the other gets arrested for cocaine possession, do you really think their audience is going to look past that? In a sick way, I'm looking forward to that day.

About ANTH 1002

So next year I'm taking Anthropology, as I said in my last entry. Of course, I'm really not sure what Anthropology is. Oh, sure, I know the definition; I know it's the study of culture, blah blah, man, blah blah, blah blah blah. But I don't actually know what I'll be learning or anything. I have two impressions of the subject of Anthropology:

1. Anthropologie, the store in Lennox Mall. It's a great store, overpriced, but still nice. Though I've never bought anything there--something like $50 for a pair of pajama pants or $25 for a coaster never appealed to me. I don't think, however, that we'll be learning about overpriced trendy bohemian clothing and home decor.

2. "Saved By The Bell: The College Years." Who watched that show? Admit it. Pretty much anybody who watched "Saved By The Bell" went on to at least watch a few episodes of this incarnation of the show, although most viewers realized how much it sucked before the station realized it and cancelled it (but remember "Saved By The Bell: Wedding In Las Vegas"? At least it went out with a bang?) Point being, the only class they ever showed on "The College Years" (because, as I'm sure you've noticed with things like Boy Meets World and DeGrassi, on TV shows that take place in a school they rarely ever show more than one or two classes) was Anthropology with Professor Jonathan. I'm sure he had a last name, but I don't remember it because he asked Kelly to call him Jonathan when she babysat for his daughter and then they had sex. Of course, they may not have actually had sex, but I believe there was an affair between Ms. Kapowski and said professor. This, once again, doesn't shed much light onto the subject of Anthropology itself.

So what I've learned is that I'll be taking a class that's not about expensive clothes and that's not about student-teacher affairs. I think. Maybe. Perhaps. (Of course, if the professor's hot...no. Yuck.) Alright, fine--I have no idea. But at least it fulfills a core requirement. We'll see how it goes.

Greetings from the UGA Library!

Orientation's over, pretty much. I just got finished registering for next semester's classes, and now I'm sitting in the library feeling out of place, and feeling like the keys on this keyboard are clacking way louder than everyone else's. In any case, my schedule is as follows:

(By the way, a guy with a shirt that said "Library Security" in big block letters just marched up to a girl and told her to throw away her popcorn. College is weird.)

Honors English Composition and Literature--MWF, boring required class, but one I definitely want to take early, as it's the prerequisite for everything in the English department.
Honors Intro to Astronomy--TR, the last science I'll ever be required to take.
Intro to Anthropology--TR, to get a social science credit out of the way, because nearly everything else (Psychology, Sociology, et cetera) was full.
Italian--MWTR, because I didn't feel like taking Spanish ever again. I hear they're similar, anyway.

Additionally, I'm taking a 1-credit-hour Honors seminar that's required for all Honors program freshmen, and a 1-credit-hour Freshman seminar on Shakespeare's Measure For Measure. I sound busier than I actually am.
And now I'm dying of thirst, so I'm going to probably go loiter in the student center until Bidwell gets out of class, and then later we're going to go to dinner, and then I'm coming home. If you don't hear from me for a week or so, just tell them to trace my steps from the Library to Tate. You'll find my heat-stricken, water-deprived, collapsed body somewhere along the path. It's 275 degrees over here. I'm not joking. I can't see why anyone voluntarily lives in this climate.

Well I'll be off to Orientation in a few short hours. It actually starts tomorrow but we're driving down late this afternoon so we don't have to do drive to Athens in the ungodly hours of tomorrow morning. I've heard conflicting reports on Orientation at UGA--from Michelle, it was a horrible version of hell, while from Lindsey, it was a really fun couple of days. But I figure, even if it does turn out to be awful and I don't have anyone to talk to, at least I'll be able to register for classes and then it'll be over and I'll be here for the rest of the summer. And I'm going to visit Bidwell while I'm up there at the summer program, so that should be entertaining enough. It'll be fine.
I tried to take all of my senior letters, smooth them out, lay them between the pages of my yearbook yesterday. I wanted for one thing, everything to be together in a neat little package. But mainly, I wanted everyone's letters right next to their Senior Ad or yearbook picture, for sentimental purposes. This was a risky idea, because I knew that even glancing at the Red Envelope that's been lying half-forgotten underneath a pile of magazines might make me lose what little excitement about the future I might have. But I decided to try it anyway. Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate that some of the letters are thicker than they should be, nor did I want to part with the individual envelopes, so by the time I'd gotten about half the letters in the yearbook refused to close. I suppose they'll all be left in their Red Envelope home.
Well, I still have to go pack, cash some checks, make some phone calls, take a shower, et cetera, so I'll be going now. I won't be back until Thursday night but anyone who feels like it is free to call me anyway to say Hi while I'm away. Bye!

A Tribute To Jewish Chuck And The Good Ol' Days?

Tonight at Trivia (where we are most definitely no longer Jewish Chuck), the question was something along the lines of "What is the Jewish holiday that falls in the springtime where you're practically required to get drunk?" Another team's answer: "Spring Break for Jewish Chuck." We'll take that as a shout-out, thanks.

Do I have a sign on my back that says "Hey stranger, talk to me!" or something today? First there was the hot guy with the tattoo in the religion section of Waldenbooks (okay, so I didn't mind that one so much), and then there was the elderly mall employee who was riding up the UP escalator as I was walking down the DOWN one, who saw fit to inform me, "Hon, that thing'll take you down, you don't need to walk it!", and then of course one of the many popular girls from our high school class that we weren't sure were going to graduate in the Discovery Channel Store. That's not to mention the employees at Linens 'N' Things and at MediaPlay who seem to love to chat with me. Maybe I'm just extra-hot today, or something. Yeah, or something.
On a related note, why do people say "What's up?" or "How's it going?" or "How are you?" when they don't actually want to know how you are? You know, when people say one of the aforementioned phrases before promptly walking away. Why not just say "Hi" if you don't intend on starting a conversation?
Additionally, it really was just my luck that the one day that there are sixty thousand hot guys in the Waldenbooks at the mall, I'm buying a big box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I mean, really. Couldn't all the hot guys show up on a day when I'm buying a critically acclaimed work of literary merit that we can discuss in depth, or at the very least a book from the Humor section that would act as a conversation starter. But no. I'm buying glorified jelly-beans, and no hot guy wants to talk to girl who's buying glorified jelly-beans. Woe is I.
Edited to add: I am so teaching myself how to knit. You can definitely expect something completely made out of yarn for your next birthday/Christmas/other gift-giving holiday. That is all.

BARELY LEGAL

Today I am eighteen.
I've never been one of those kids who expected one age to feel different than the previous, so no musings on how eighteen feels no different than seventeen or sixteen or fifteen here. In fact, I'll probably still be answering "Seventeen" to people who ask how old I am for the next five or six months.
I'm not a huge fan of birthdays, mainly because everyone always sort of expects their birthday to be good and special, and it almost always turns out to be just like any other day, only with a few more phone calls and a couple of presents. I mean, sure, birthdays are cool and all, but they're not all their cracked up to be. I guess I'm just thankful my parents decided to forego the public humiliation route this year. Why is it that birthdays are always associated with public humiliation? I mean, really. I don't think I need to get up in front of a restaurant full of people and swing a cloth napkin over my head as a group of waiters chant the birthday song to me in order to celebrate. And now I am tired and sort of just want to go to sleep, but instead I am going to go back downstairs to the basement and watch "Legally Blonde" with Sarah and Ian, and probably not go to sleep for many hours. Thus is the plight of the eighteen-year-old.

Following Ashleigh's and Kelly's lead, I took the My Little Pony personality test. Results?



Sweet Stuff is a thoughtful and perceptive pony, with a knack for looking beyond the obvious. Unfortunately, she has a tendency to dwell on her failure and inabilities rather than her accomplishments. She's a rather social pony and likes to have a good time with her friends.

Quote: "Be glad you are who you are"

Hmm.

Additionally, everyone's aware of what tomorrow is, yes? Hehe. Yes.

"Can you hear me smiling as I sing this song for you and only you?"

I have to echo Ms. Pennington's sentiments when I say that I feel like everything is finally going right right now. Despite any minor upsets, everything is good. It's great! I'm actually very happy with everything, with all of it, which is really, really nice. It's nice to be in a good mood more often than a bad mood. I think I like the way everything is going, so with any luck it will stay as-is for the rest of the summer at least. Lucky for me, a good portion of my clique/support group of late will be staying close by in the fall anyway (Ashleigh, transfer to UGA this instant!), so with any luck things will continue to go smoothly well into next year.
But of course I hope so. I hope this good mood doesn't wear off anytime soon.
In other though slightly related news, "Legally Blonde 2: Red, White, and Blonde" is the best movie I've seen in quite a long while. I certainly had more fun than any of you "Terminator 3" losers. (Just kidding! You're not losers! But you would probably have been a lot happier seeing "Legally Blonde 2" than "T3," you've got to admit.)
I'm babysitting Sarah for the next four or five days, so I can't promise that I'll be updating often. (Surprise, surprise--when do I ever update often?) Also, I would like to remind everyone that my birthday is in 3 days (not to pound it into your heads or anything, but I've found that people are more likely to remember if you pester them consistently about something)! So, well, yes. G'night!

Shock: (shok) n. 1. Something that jars the mind or emotions as if with a violent unexpected blow.

My mom finally agreed to let me call in to find out my AP scores about twenty minutes ago, and so of course I wanted to do so straight away. However, the internet put a crimp in my plans--the CollegeBoard website was down! How cheap! And of course, by this time I've worked myself into some sort of tizzy envisioning the mechanical voice telling me all about how I got three dashes and how the AP readers actually pitied me because my essays were so bad, and then the mechanical voice would laugh at me and tell me I was stupid. I was also afraid that if I ever got to call, the recording would tell me something along the lines of: "We're sorry, we only report passing grades. Your grades were too low; our computers are not capable of pronouncing negative numbers. Please wait for your grades in the mail." So I'm very nervous about all this, and I figure who better to tell than Brynnlee? So I tell her about my predicament--how I'm unable to find out the number to call through the CollegeBoard website and all. And of course, Brynnlee saves the day in the strangest way possible--by telling me that she knows the number. Scenarios of Brynnlee programming the CollegeBoard AP Scores Hotline number into her cell phone directory are dancing in my head, until she tells me it's just in the History of her cell phone, which makes infinitely more sense. She gives me the number, I thank her, and nervously dial. Of course the number won't work for me the first two times I try it. Of course. Finally, we figure out that I have to put a 1 in front of it although she didn't, I give Mechanical Sue (I named her that) my SS#, et cetera, and she begins to announce my scores:

Hem, hem.

AP Literature: 4
AP Government: 3
AP Environmental Science: 4

What. The. Fuck. I was honestly expecting no higher than a 3 in Lit, no higher than a 2 in APES, and no lower than a 4 in Government. So I'm baffled. I had Sue repeat my APES score three times. She did, in fact, say four, and not "negative four" (which as I said, their computers likely cannot pronounce). But hey, at least I passed everything! And I get credit for everything (technically--since I already have three credit hours in English 1101 for my [honestly not very high] SAT II Writing score, I could only have gotten additional English credit had I gotten a 5, the idea of which flew out the window the moment I started writing about King Lear for my Open Question and couldn't remember which brother was the bastard [I honestly erased and changed it at least three times.]), so that's good enough for me.
Man. A four in Environmental Science. So I guess this is what shock feels like.
Yay for having twelve hours of college out of the way!