eargasms every time.....every song's like the first five times I heard Dr. Dog's cover of Heart it Races.
So anyway...yes, i'm a huge lazy slacker with an ass larger than putin's georgia fetish, but this summer has been (is? gotta hold on to those last 2 days 6hrs and 43 minutes) perhaps the most incredible of my life. I doubt there's any possible way I could explain how eight weeks of endless research on alternative energy incentives and the very small town of Hanover, New Hampshire could be so memorable, but just thinking about how its past and finished makes my eyes tear up. God, i'm such a fucking hormonal girl. Shoot me in the face.
Teenage summers are a unique thing....I doubt I'll ever make nearly as many stupid, reckless, purely idiotic decisions again, and yet they're what kept me sane. I doubt my parents can stay oblivious to their total obliviousness (damn it, its late, i can't be a walking thesaurus), yet somehow they continue to refuse to question. They grow angry when I'm innocent, and ignore the times when I so blatantly acted wrongly. I lie about nearly everything....its not as if I'm getting methed up in a dark alley, but I simply refuse to give them accurate information. I ride with horrible drivers (often without a real seat and with suspicious substances stashed around the vehicle), take breathers in graveyards where the guards can't patrol, wander my neighborhood at 4am, drunkenly stumble through churches as my friends chase the sound of the choir, and have whole heartedly begun to question each and every statement offered up by my parents. Its a period thats inherently a cliche, and yet to each of us it feels distinct and irreplaceable.
However, college apps have arrived. I now adore my life. Its really cute how I have fallen in love with a college that happens to have an acceptance rate around 14% (21% if i apply early). My college counsellor, bless her heart, snorted when i mentioned it.
I adore it. More than anything. I even researched their international relations program, spending three hours oggling over the website.
I have to get in.
I SHALL FIND A WAY.
its 1:54. I have about another four hundred pages of debate research due by monday, and that probably entails somewhere around 72 hours of work. Cute.
i worship you all. I may be the only one who read the Virgin suicides as tainted with a faint stream of hope.
Little known fact: Sarah Palin got Tom Brady pregnant, and then left him
