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Well. Here I go again. Right now I'm just trying to write as much as I can so this doesn't look so pathetic. But really, I have nothing to say, or write, for that matter. Wow. I can't believe it's already the end of July. You know what that means: school in thirty days. Last year I was so excited that I would be starting college this year. But now that the time has come, I don't want to go anymore. I don't think I'm nervous, well, I am, but that's not the problem. First off, by going to Penn State, I won't know anyone. Reason being, I went to school in Kansas. This also poses a problem because I'm not familiar with the campus.. so the chances of me not finding my classroom and stumbling in fifteen minutes late are through the roof. Also, there has been talk of a 'special' Friday schedule. Let me just tell you, I had enough trouble with a block schedule in high school. If you make me switch between two totally different schedules in one week, you will find me crying in a fetal position in my closet by the second week. Besides what has already been mentioned, they screwed up my schedule and they expect me to fix it!
"Go online and schedule the classes you want!" so says the counselor.So. You see why I'm not looking forward to my four year sentence. In light of all this, and recently seeing Pirates of the Caribbean, I've decided to skip college and become a scourge of the seven seas. Well.. maybe, I will look into it. My dentist bill would probably be expensive. Anyway, I don't have anything else to write, but I can't leave these few lines at the end. It just wouldn't feel right. I could have nightmares about this post's abrupt end. This is good though. This is okay.
"It won't accept what I enter." I say.
"That's because we decided to make your major Sociology instead of Psychology!" says the counselor.
~scribbled by jen sometime around 6:00 PM
Sigh. Why does Pvt. Lynch get a Bronze Star?? What did she actually do? I understand that it must have been frightening for her, but she did nothing heroic. There are many POWs that have been rescued and do they get stars? No. Maybe they award the Bronze Star for being at the wrong place at the wrong time and living. Or maybe for having amnesia when they really, really want you to. But you know what really bothers me? It's not the Bronze Star, it's all the Hollywood glam that comes with it. I can almost see it.. movies, books, guest appearances. She got away from the fighting early because she was captured. And she was lucky enough to be rescued. And while she sits at home deciding who to sell the movies rights to, competent soldiers are still risking their lives. I don't entirely blame Jessica, I blame the media. This is a person who didn't want to fight in the military, yet wanted the benefits. It pisses me off, not because of her or what she did, or what actually happened to her, but because there are about 168 other American soldiers, as well as British, who've died in Iraq. I can't tell you one of their names.
~scribbled by jen sometime around 4:30 PM
Blah. This is what happens when I grow bored. I make things. Usually they're not even good things.. I mean, when I make them I'm like, "Whoa, I am a GENIUS." Then, when I'm no longer bored, I look at them and ask myself, "What were you ON?" Well, I can assure you, I'm not on anything.. so please don't ask me to 'hook you up'. Because I won't. I don't even know you. There are a lot of people I don't know.. I used to think it would be so cool to know everyone that lived in my city. Just to be able to say, "Hey! How's it going? Did you ever get over that rash?" to people I know that have rashes. But I don't know anyone like that. I kind of wish I did. If I knew everyone in my city, I'm sure I would know someone with a rash. But now I realize, if I did know everyone in the city of Beaver Falls, I'd have to buy a lot of Christmas presents. Not to mention rash cream.. Maybe if I go to sleep now, I won't have to edit this post as much when I'm no longer bored.
~scribbled by jen sometime around 3:35 AM