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Aug. 11th, 2007 | 07:36 pm
I feel oh-so: mellowmellow

hello all,

i just got back from camp again.  this week the campers were all really really weird.  

especially this one kid who has a phobia of breakfast cereal and totally geeks out when its near him or someone even mentions it.  the same kid also gets all of his knowledge of religion from petting and riding animals.  he also had a bull beanie baby that he would drown in kool-aid while singing 'Barbie Girl' by Aqua....then he would suck the juice out of it for the rest of the day.  

working at the stables was as fun as ever minus the getting kicked twice by the same horse.  it was nothing bad, i just got clipped in the knee a couple of times.  i was also offered a job there next summer.  i hope that works out--i cant imagine a better summer than one totally at camp, not at home.

senior pictures are on tuesday.  that should be interesting....my mom is waaay into them.

on a more serious note::
i dont know if you heard, but Brian Alioto, who just graduated from Pius, was in a really bad accident last sunday evening.  He and his girlfriends brother and cousin were in a jeep that went over the median and rolled over four or five times.  he is really beat up.  he is at Froedert hospital and they have what are called CarePages where there is a message board and picture gallery of brian.  let me know if you want to know the page name for his page to see the pictures or leave a message for him and his family.  

i hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the last couple of weeks of summer

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(no subject)

Jul. 19th, 2007 | 05:21 pm
I feel oh-so: exhaustedjet lagged

hello all,

i know i havent posted in about a million years, but there was just nothing to report.

i got a 4 on the AP US test (hurray!!) and i just got back from europe

yeah, so i'm around until august 4th-10th then for the rest of summer if anyone wants to hang out, just let me know

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(no subject)

Dec. 3rd, 2006 | 04:59 pm

hey

so i havent updated in forever.  life has been pretty crazy what with work and play practice and choir and homework and all.

so yeah, im basically not working anymore, which is ok with me except for i have to somehow pay for my europe trip.  o.0...

last night was a blast, but it was so freaking cold.  just chilling by the grill fire, hoping it didnt tip over and trying to extinguish sparks that were landing on the blankets.  yeah, the not having shoes part wasnt so great, but i survived.  i kept nodding off on the way home....i really shouldnt have been driving, but i made it ok.  yay for finally getting to spend some time with andy too.  that boy is never home, i swear.  it was nice just to talk and stuff for hours and hours.  it was a good way to spend our one month too.  yeah, im done being kinda girly.  im gonna go back to sleep....

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(no subject)

Aug. 26th, 2006 | 11:33 pm
I'm at the one and only: computer
I feel oh-so: blahnot great, but not bad
I'm hearing these voices in my head now: t.v.

So i haven't updated in a while

but i haven't been doing much that is notworthy (aka watching tv)

anyways... erin's party on the 19th was fun and it was great seeing people at orientation (for the most part)

work is the same, hot and usually boring

except for today, customers can go online and email the stores with complaints or compliments about their taco bell experience

well one customer insisted on giving his/her thoughts on everything that happened from the time he/she walked in the door to the time he/she left in order from "like most to liked least" the "liked least" was "There was a gay guy there and he kinda scared me when he talked to me"

well the only gay guy that works at our taco bell is our GM. He wrote a note to all the men at our store. "Ok men. I wasn't working that day and I don't know of any other gay men that work here. You all need to butch up and stop acting like a bunch of sissys. Today was the first time ever that I was almost ashamed to call myself gay. <3<3 Jeff

it made me so happy

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(no subject)

Jul. 30th, 2006 | 10:18 pm

so today at work was kinda boring, nothing really exciting happened, until one of my favorite ex-froshies came in....Aaron H.!! I was so excited, we talked for a little and I took their order and everything. Then later I asked him if he was glad to almost not be a freshman anymore and he was like well I was practically a sophmore last year so not really.

I just thought it was funny that when I said hi to Aaron, the guy he was with was like "Is she gonna be a sophmore, too?" Aaron goes, "No, she'll actually be a junior" and the guy goes "Hmmmmm, older....."

I was like alright....

so yeah that was the highlight of my day

and a quote

Cousin Claire (age 2 tomorrow): carrots please
Aunt Mary: Claire, you want carrots?
Claire: yes please
Mary: ok, here you go...
*Claire starts screaming*
Uncle Greg to Mary: When she says carrots, what she really means is Fruit Loops and String Cheese

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(no subject)

Jul. 28th, 2006 | 09:20 pm
I'm at the one and only: home
I feel oh-so: sadmainly for everyone else
I'm hearing these voices in my head now: t.v.

so tiny people come tomorrow, blah

they will be here for a week

im kinda sad because i have to return an uber cute homecoming dress that i fell in love with at the boston store clearance sale (stupid nylon and its tendency to get runs *shakes fist*)

im going to the state fair on thursday if anyone wants to meet up and hang out or whatever

im also probably going week after next with my friend Erik, idk though

so yeah, im gonna post this really super long thingy and again idk/idc how to make an lj cut so here it goes::
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ODE TO NICE GIRLS....


This is a tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is a homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fxck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whxre than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whxre's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slxtty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whxres and the slxts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)
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i think that it's sweet and true to some extent

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