I was aimlessly surfing through the internet this past weekend and came across this site. By doing a few simple calculations on your birth date, it gives you a brief description of your past life. Obviously, it's not very accurate if anything could even have the ability to tell something like that correctly, but it's still really interesting. This is what it told me:

Your past life diagnosis:
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I don't know how you feel about it, but you were male in your last earthly incarnation.
You were born somewhere in the territory of modern Mongolia around the year 800.
Your profession was that of a warrior, hunter, fisherman or executor of sacrifices.
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Your brief psychological profile in your past life:
You were a sane, practical person, a materialist with no spiritual consciousness. Your simple wisdom helped the weaker and the poor.
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The lesson that your last past life brought to your present incarnation:
You should develop self-love and ability to implant hope into hearts of people. Ambition is not everything. True wealth is buried in your soul.
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Do you remember now?

Posted at 10:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yesterday was an absolute fiasco.

Drama class was filled with drama which lead a few to tears, but the problem was finally sorted out. And, lucky me, I don't have to be in my own movie anymore as a slutty dumb maid! Yay! I'll still be helping with the filming and editing but now I don't have to feel extremely degraded. And I still get to act, just in a different movie.

I still think they should have cut out the maid completely. But no, some people are too attached to stupid characters...

Juliet was supposed to arrive at the airport yesterday just before 5:00, but she missed her last flight, and so had to take a flight to Appleton instead of Madison, and then be transported by one of the airport's vans to Madison. I was already asleep when she got home, and she's still sleeping now, so I haven't seen her yet.

We were originally going to leave last night for Bloomington, but because of Juliet's late arrival, bad weather around Chicago, horrible traffic conditions, and the fact that my mom was sandwiched by two cars while they were going around 20 miles an hour (nice going person-who-was-responsible-for-damaging-our-car), we decided to leave this morning. I hate traveling by car during the day. It's much more boring than at night. But hopefully we'll get down there (sans Juliet and my mother, by the way) before dinner starts. And I do say hopefully.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. Travel safely, don't act like you're too old to play in the snow if you have it, and stuff yourselves with whatever meal you'll be having tonight. Or this afternoon.

Oh, and our local Pizza Hut should really think about changing their uniforms to devil costumes. And yes, there is a story behind that random comment.

Posted at 9:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

About a month before Halloween, my parents picked up a few pumpkins from the patch at one of my dad's lab's parties. I thought it was a little odd at the time, considering it was nowhere near Halloween. Plus, the last time I actually remember carving pumpkins was a few years after my little sister was born, which means I was, oh, seven years old. So for nine years now, I haven't carved a single pumpkin. Actually, no one in my family has.

It turns out that my mom only wanted them to put on our porch, but she put them out the night of Halloween. I thought she'd get rid of them in a week, but she decided that they were excellent fall decorations. So, now we're about halfway through November, and those pumpkins are still sitting out there, but they've changed...

They've become the squirrels' main course.

It's really quite gross, actually. Every single one of the pumpkins has a huge hole that looks like someone punched it with a bat, and most of the insides are empty, not because they were eaten, but because they're now strewn across our porch. It looks so trashy, and I'm afraid they're beginning to rot just a little.

I would clean it up if it weren't for the huge movie fiasco that will be going on for the next month, but I'll complain about that later on.

Posted at 6:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This week has been really stressful for me: family problems, time issues, due dates, work, work, and yet more work. I thought that everyone understood that I didn't have enough time to do everything that I need to, such as washing the dishes on night. I guess I was wrong.

My mom and I just had a huge fight that was originally a small dispute over cheese. Cheese of all things started this major battle that is now at a temporary cease-fire, but will most likely start up again as soon as either of us tries to start peace talks. I can't believe that I actually ended up crying during this fight... Yeah, things between my mom and I definitely couldn't be described as perfect, or even pretty good for that matter. But I don't usually get this emotional over just one argument.

Maybe it's because I felt as if she was accusing me of thinking less of her than of my father, which isn't true, or maybe it's because I felt as if she was just accusing me of everything that's wrong in the world. I don't know how she did it, but that's what I felt. Apparently she must have felt I was doing the same to her, because I haven't seen her since she stalked off still screaming at the top of her lungs at me.

I hate fights. I really do hate all the yelling and the horrible feelings, but there's just been so much of it lately between her and me. This past Sunday, she dragged me down from getting dressed after my shower to the back door to yell at me that I needed to pick up the dog poop right that moment. Obviously I couldn't because part of my ensemble was my towel, and even though I kept pointing out that that was the reason why I had to go back upstairs, all she could say was "Don't care about drying your hair! Comb it out and get the hell down here!!" So I slammed the door and went upstairs to do what needed to be done. Maybe not the best approach, but I was extremely frustrated.

Why doesn't Mom realize that teenage daughters will automatically yell at their mothers? It's just in our genetics! I don't purposefully look for chances to yell and start a fight, but they happen anyway, and things would go a lot smoother if she didn't act like a teen herself and retaliate by screaming and yelling even more than me, and saying hurtful things that I would never say to her. That's when I hate the fighting most, because you can't turn back the clock and take those words back. They're hanging over your head at just the right height so that you can never wipe them away.

Posted at 8:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Winter is not my season. Yes, I love snow (who couldn't), but I hate that it turns to slush. I love taking winter walks at night, looking at the stars or just relishing the cozy feeling I get when the sky is blanketed in clouds. I love decorating our tree with the special music box cd playing in the background, and making reindeer cookies. I love the fact that, usually, everyone is in a happy (if not jolly) mood.

But I hate the cold.

Some argue that being cold is better than being hot because you can always cuddle up in a warm blanket, and honestly, that's a great point. Curling up with a blanket is one of the best things in the world. However, I can't forget the fact that no matter how thick my gloves and socks are, my hands and feet always end up getting numb during the extremely short walk to school. My hands are usually cold anyway, so it's no fun to go from cold to numbingly cold, and then back to cold. No fun at all.

I know I wouldn't give up spending winter in a snowy region of the world for anything - well, almost anything - but I really hate the biting wind and cold that seems to chill you all the way to the bone. I could really do without that... But if it means I have to just deal with being cold in order to make a snow angel, then fine. I'll deal.

Posted at 8:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Last night I had to take out the compost. I really hate doing that at night. No, I'm not scared of the dark. I'm scared of the dark bushes and trees around the compost container. Anything could be hiding in them, from skunks about to attack, to psycho killers. So for good measure, I let our two dogs out with me to scare away those creepy things. And they took their job seriously.

As soon as we were out the door, they started racing around the yard, barking and playing with each other. That was kind of annoying, since it was already 8:30 at night, but it didn't really bug me, so I just kept walking over to the compost container. All of a sudden, the dogs stopped in their tracks, turned to face the garage, and ran barking and whimpering over to it. Now, our garage has a space underneath it in the back because it sits on top of a hill. So, of course, I immediately freaked out and thought "serial killer!"

I decided to go get my dad, so I ran over to the door and tried to make the dogs come in, but they wouldn't budge. They were desperately trying to get underneath the garage to whatever was there. At one point, one of them actually got under, and all I could hear was him scrambling on the rocks and sometimes a little whimper-like noise. Finally he came out, and he seemed to not be hurt, but he wouldn't stay still long enough for me to check - he just kept trying to get back under.

Finally my dad came out with his heavy-duty flashlight, and, at a safe distance away, we looked under.

It was a possum.



The poor thing must have been extremely freaked out! First the dogs barking and scrambling to get at it, then a dog actually succeeding in coming in at it, and then a bright light shining right in its face. We finally got the dogs to go inside, and I finished taking out the compost.

Later on today, I'm going to go out to see if it had the good sense to leave our yard. I really hope it did... Our dogs have killed animals before that had the misfortune of seeking refuge in our shrubbery.

Posted at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Ahh, Christmas music.

I'm absolutely in love with Christmas music. Not even just Christmas music, since I'm not really religious, even though technically I should be, but all seasonal music! And besides, Christmas carols don't really bother me. Yes, they're all "God is the King, rejoice and sing!" and what not, but the melodies are timeless and the harmonies are beautiful. And they're just so much fun to sing.

The reason why I'm bringing this up at the beginning of November? Just a few years ago I'd kick myself for thinking of one holiday before another one has even passed, but since high school I haven't minded. In fact, I've been required to think about the Christmas season before Thanksgiving for my classes. It's all because of the Capitol Pageant.

It's a pageant that has been held in the Wisconsin Capitol for somewhere around 80 years now, and the same songs have been sung the entire time. Choirs from the local high school are asked to sing, band members are asked to accompany, and students just looking for an excuse to get makeup caked on their faces are asked to "act out" the story of Christmas in the background.

Since the singers must memorize their music, it's best if you start working on the songs in November. And thus the early Christmas spirit.

As much as I love the songs, there's something that I love even more about the Capitol Pageant: walking home from the one or two rehearsals held before the performance. Rehearsals have always been held since I started doing the pageant at my high school, and since I live a mere two blocks from there, I always end up walking, which really isn't that bad, even though it's always cold and slushy. But after spending an hour singing in a hot auditorium, it just fills me with so much happiness to simply walk home in the dark. It's really not all that dark, though. By then, people have begun putting up lights, and if we're lucky there's some snow on the ground. Sometimes the moon is shining, other times the sky is blanketed in clouds. No matter what, it's always cozy and comforting. Just the memory of it makes me smile.

Posted at 6:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Last night was our Wisconsin Singers performance, and we actually did alright. Not bad, but not awesome either. Meh, that's the way things go. After our performance, we moved up to the balcony to watch the show choir from another high school and then the Wisconsin Singers perform. I ended up sitting between two of my friends, Clint and Molly. I was having a lot of fun watching the WI Singers, but between every break in the music, Clint, or Molly, or both of them would lean over me to talk with the other. They would always whisper and giggle and pretty soon I got annoyed. Later on, I got really pissed. I'm sorry, but if you're going to flirt, PLEASE don't do it right in front of me, over my lap! And Molly! You have a boyfriend already! Yes, Clint is just the kind of guy you end up flirting with, but you shouldn't drag him on like that!

Grr, it made me so mad that I ended up leaving during the intermission because I didn't want to get stuck between them again, or even see them during the performance constantly leaning over to each other.

But it didn't just make me mad. It also brought to attention how frustrated I am with my love life. I don't have a boyfriend, which isn't the worst thing in the world to some, but when the point of life to me is to find love, it's pretty depressing. I love all of my guy friends - they're great people and so much fun to be around. But almost every single one of them flirts with me. Not in the way that Clint and Molly were flirting - these guys flirt with me just for fun and to make me smile. Sometimes they'll come up to me and make suggestive comments, which really is just funny when they do it (no one else get the idea). Other times, they'll just come up, give me a huge hug, maybe try and get me to do a swing dance move with them, and tell me how great I am. And then they turn around and go off to their girlfriends. Thanks guys for making me feel great for a few minutes, but it's almost as if they're teasing me by showing me just what I'm missing by not having a boyfriend. And it's not that I don't have crushes on any of the guys here. I do! But they either already have a girlfriend, or keep telling me that they're looking for love, and yes, I should take the risk and just put myself out on a limb for love, but then also say that they wish they could meet someone new.

Guys, tell me what's going on in your heads when you do this to girls like me!

Posted at 9:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)