(no subject)

i am in my happy place. i'm well fed, decently chilled, laughing at the idiocy of my sister and sitting in vague shock. because i just bought me and my cousin's tickets to England. WE ARE A GO FOR ENGLAND IN SEPTEMBER. you have no idea how happy this makes me.

in fact, it would make me even happier if andy didn't come visit me like he says he is this year... and put it off til next year so i can look hot and sexy and you know... take him to a beach or something and wow him with my physique that is currently hidden under a lot of padding. hee. seriously though. if my andy doesn't come visit me, i'll be happier. cause you know what'll happen if he comes here??? instead of falling in like with me instead of his precious jewel (hahah... punny), he'll fall in like with the gads and scads of single JW girls here who are tiny and slim and ditzy enough to not be such a cunt. that is, to say, i'm a negative little shit and mean as all get-out if i like a person. CAN ANYONE SAY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, MUCH?

but. I HAVE TICKETS FOR ENGLAND. and i'm having to re-save because now i have to get my passport. and my train pass. and you know... spending cash. yeesh.


in other news, i got advised today. and saw the 'program for french major' sheet that i have basically on my computer now in a much better and more accessible format. but. woohoo. got advised which means i can take 10 hours this summer (so sad i can't take more...), and 12 hours this fall and i can sign up for them all next week! woohoo. and the chick advising me was all proud at how well i was prepared. girl please. i've been prepared for over a month. i'm just stuck on deciding whether to say pfft or piffle to you. because i only needed to go because i haven't declared a major yet. and i didn't declare because my gpa is still too low. *sigh* that's why i'm repeating a class and not going insane.



but. if andy does come, i'll have to make sure my brother can keep him company while i work, because i'll have 12-5 daily... at least. and DISTANCE ED classes (which is soo much better than taking classes because i can do much more if i'm not required to actually, you know, show up somewhere....). so. i'll still be away from him, but i can dedicate weekends to him, and if he makes his decision final, i'll make sure i give up so many hours, and dedicate from like... wednesday to sunday to him and work awful, awful hours on monday and tuesday. like... all day. cause that's so smart. and he can be entertained if i'm not there for 2 days a week, right? *hates on work, credit cards, english visiting schedules, and cheap cheap jobs* thank god i'm not at ups anymore, though. cause i'd be half dead. for reals.



my notebook makes me want to fall in love. even though it's a bxastard sometimes and stays on though i don't want it to. why won't you hibernate, you piece of shit?



all this is brought to you by poptarts, apple juice, dr. pepper, mountain dew, and a lack of restful sleep. god save us.

drowning!Ophelia Growing Up

I feel like I'm finally growing up. I'm not the little girl I used to be; the one with the bitten-down fingernails and the 2 French braids and the clunky flat shoes. I'm finally growing up and becoming a young woman.

I looked down for the first time in a long time and was surprised at the way my hands fit my body finally. The nails are grown out, just this side of unmanageable for a girl who hasn't had more than a smidgen of white at the tips even when she was getting them done professionally. It's more than strange to look down and see the bangles at my wrists actually hanging down loosely over my palm, like they're ready to slide off. Or my school ring moving from my right ring finger to my left middle finger, in that natural progression of looseness. It's uncanny and strange and vaguely satisfying to know that my body is growing accustomed to a womanly figure. Dainty, for the first time in a long, long time.

Imagine my surprise, also, when I was able to move around in 4 inch heels for the majority of Sunday. It's been a long time in coming as well. Hours and hours on end, where I could actually stand and walk around in heels. Swaying my hips so that, yes, I do look like a girl sometimes. I can wear a dress that's slinky around me and high high heels that look vaguely unstable, even though you mostly see me in jeans and dirty flat shoes and dinky hoodies that may or may not belong to my brother.

I'm finally growing up and turning into a young woman. There's still my little failings where I am not turning out like my mother would probably want me to be. I still keep my wallet in my back pocket, and I don't think I've quite gotten the hang of painting my nails a proper color. My nails still chip at the edge and I bite them down to little nubs again, if only to make them start growing evenly. At dressy functions, I'm bending the rules still and pairing a full length dress with pants, which may or may not be aging me decades, but it makes for a very comfortable dance atmosphere when I'm stuck asking girls out onto the floor just like my brother instead of a guy asking me onto the floor (like he's supposed to. No one said this was a Sadie Hawkins Dance...).

I'm finally growing up. And, hey. It's not turning out so bad.