Let's all jump on the band-wagon!

I just talk about my day. It's nothing terribly exciting.

I can't think of a title. Deal with it.

Today I [mostly] finished my Sony Star portfolio. I'm not happy with the cover picture and border, though. With my sophomore portfolio, it just felt right. And that sounds corny and sappy, but it's true. When I looked at it, I knew that it was done. This one feels all wrong.

I don't have to turn it in until Thursday, when I leave for festival, so I'll probably be fretting about it for the next couple of days. I've put so much work into it. It needs to feel right.

In other news, I think I have restless leg syndrome.

Last night, I got into bed around midnight, and then could not fall asleep for another hour. It wasn't because my sleep schedule was still on weekend mode. The upper half of my body was tired and ready to fall asleep. My legs, on the other hand, seemed as though they could spring to life at any moment and perform a tap dance. This isn't an odd sensation for me. It happens often. Usually I just shake my legs, hoping to tire them out. I'll kick them like I'm swimming in an ocean of blankets, but the relief it brings is usually only temporary. I just have to wait it out, drifting off to sleep very, very slowly.

My mom has it, I think, so I wouldn't be surprised if I do too. It's probably because I don't really do much moving during the day. The most I walk is around school. I really miss wandering through these suburban streets at night. I would have tonight if my life wasn't so crazy. Another thing that can exacerbate RLS is stress, so says the all-knowing website. And I guess I am stressed, but this is a feeling I know all too well. There's no relief until June.

I need sleep.

I should not be allowed to stay up late on school nights.

I've been going crazy lately.

My eyes have started freaking on me. I'm having trouble keeping my eyes focused on things. Either I am very, very tired, or my lazy eye is getting worse. It's like my eyes are too tired to work together, so sometimes my eyes just gloss over and I stare straight ahead. And sometimes one eye shifts slightly one way it shouldn't. Or I'm just tired.

I've also been misplacing things that I NEED, or have already put in a logical place [or at least, seemed logical at the time]. I'm usually not a forgetful person, and I usually don't lose stuff. But it seems I've been so careless lately, and I have no idea why. Today I spent a good hour frantically searching my car, my house, and my room for my USB stick. I knew that I had it yesterday - I put it in my purse. BUT IT WAS GONE the next day. And it was driving me crazy, because I KNOW that I put it in my purse. I eventually found it in my backpack. I probably put it in there last night, thinking that I wouldn't have time to go home before I needed to go to the community center to pick up pictures.

_


I think I'm just really, really sleep deprived.

I got to school early one morning, and since the door was locked I sat down on the ground. I rested my head against my hands, closed my eyes, and sort of drifted back to sleepland where I had been so content not an hour ago. I knew people were probably looking at me strangely - probably akin to the looks that passerbys give me when they see me playing my guitar on the driveway in the middle of the night - but I didn't really care. And then I feel a hand, and can sense somebody. It was Andrew. He asked me if I was alright, since I suppose the position I was in could be interpreted as upset. I told him I was tired, with a somewhat surprised tone in my voice, since it was a nice gesture. He gave me a me-sitting-him-crouching hug that was albeit, awkward, but really nice. As he left it reminded me of the time right before I got the stomach flu, during lunch at school. I was sitting on the steps, taking deep breaths, on the verge of tears, when Scott Rong walked by and asked if I was ok. I still have no idea why I was being so emotional that day - probably because I felt awful. Anyways, it was still a nice gesture. And it always catches me off guard when people are nice, for some reason. I have problems with trust, I guess, but that's a whole different story.

Personally, I suck at cheering people up. If people are upset, I never know what to do. Some want to be consoled, others want to be alone. And if I don't know the person that well, I don't know which type they are. And this is the reason that if I see someone I know sitting on the ground looking upset or crying, I usually walk right past them. I've always thought that if they wanted to talk about it, or needed a friend, that they would just ask. But that's really hypocritical, since when I'm upset I'd rather people comfort me without me having to ask.

But nonetheless, it's surprising that people I don't talk to much would be so caring as to walk over, kneel down, and see if everything was alright. Even if I've known them for years, I'm still taken aback.

It's kind of sad that I'm surprised when humanity actually gives a damn.

He doesn't read my blog.

theaterules: i like how you say im cooking

theaterules: :P

megkatjo: yep

theaterules: that is kinda the weekend before my bday too :P

theaterules: and the weekend before asb elections

megkatjo: and the weekend before my birthday

theaterules: mhm

theaterules: so your bday takes precedenc eover mine?

megkatjo: um, i called dibs?

megkatjo: meaning

megkatjo: i made plans before you did

megkatjo: ?

theaterules: no you cna have plans

theaterules: i just dunno if ill be available

megkatjo: kbye/

theaterules: what?

theaterules: what if i wanna do somethign for my bday?

theaterules: sorry if thats against the rules.

megkatjo: why are you giving me a hard time?

theaterules: im not

megkatjo: all i want to do is have a birthday party

theaterules: im justletting you know

theaterules: i might be elsewhere

theaterules: maybe not

megkatjo: i'm sorry that 4 people have their birthdays at the same time

theaterules: but just giving you a heads up

megkatjo: christina already took the weekend after my birthday

megkatjo: so you're saying you might not come to my party because you might have plans that might exist in the future?

theaterules: uh yes

theaterules: and thats not rude or selfish of me

theaterules: its my bday too

megkatjo: fine

megkatjo: don't come

theaterules: god youre in such a bitchy mood!

theaterules: you cnat even take a heads up with maybe a 'oh ok. ill think about an alternate plan just in case"

megkatjo: i'm on the verge of fucking tears because YOU SAY YOU WON'T PROMISE TO COME TO MY FUCKING PARTY

megkatjo: YOU DON"T EVEN HAVE A REAL REASON OR SEMIFORMED PLANS

theaterules: YE SI DO HAVE A REAL REASON

megkatjo: YOU JUST SAY HOW DARE YOU FOR DECIDING TO HAVE BIRTHDAY PARTY TWO DAYS BEFORE MINE

theaterules: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!

megkatjo: IN TWO DAYS

megkatjo: I CANT HAVE IT THE NEXT WEEKEND BECAUSE OF CHRISTINA

theaterules: NO

theaterules: I ASM NOT GOING TO CELEBRATE MY BDYA ON A MONDAY

theaterules: I AM GOING TO GO OUT ON THE WEEKEND

megkatjo: WHAT ABOUT FRIDAY?

theaterules: I HAVE TO WORK AROUND TONY TOO

theaterules: AND ABS ELECTIONS

megkatjo: if you can fit it into your fucking schedule, i'd love for you to come to my party

theaterules: AND MY BRO'S BDAY

theaterules: AN DMY MOM

theaterules: sorry, but i might not want to slave in the kitchen when i could be out partying

megkatjo: jeez

megkatjo: you don't have to cook

megkatjo: you know, you make me feel so awful sometimes

theaterules: jesus.

theaterules: this started as me just giving you a friendly heads up

megkatjo: well you came off like a jerk

theaterules: and then you cam eoff lieka raving bitch

megkatjo: as in, even though it's a month in advance, i can't promise that i'll attend a party, even though i have not made any sort of plans myself

theaterules: wtf megan

theaterules: can you not understand that?

megkatjo: no, i can't understand that

megkatjo: i know it's your birthday

megkatjo: but it's also christina's, and clifford's, and mine, and a bunch of other peoples

megkatjo: which is why i wanted to pick a date

megkatjo: now

theaterules: mhm

megkatjo: so that people would know

megkatjo: and plan their schedules accordingly

theaterules: and i know

theaterules: but

theaterules: that is a busy time for me

megkatjo: unless, of course, you don't want to go

megkatjo: find

megkatjo: if you don't want to go, don't

megkatjo: if you do, do

theaterules: oh megan, ew

theaterules: i would never want to go to your party

megkatjo: STOP BEING FUCKING SARCASTIC

theaterules: cause, gosh, youre just about the person who id least want to hang out with

megkatjo: WHEN I AM CLOSE TO CRYING

theaterules: if youre goign to attack me, ill be as sarcatsic as i want

megkatjo: i can't talk to you right now

megkatjo: this is only going to get worse








Yeah, I'm upset.

You either go to Texas or you leave Texas.

The days are going to start picking up speed. The end of the year is always so busy, but it seems this year it will be especially hectic, what with Sony Star stuff, my Senior Recital, and graduation this-and-that.

Although I haven't officially decided where I'll be going to school, I pretty much know. I've wanted to go to UCLA for a while, and has edged itself above UCSD slowly but surely. I'm visiting both colleges during Spring Break, to see if I can imagine the next four years there. Then I should know.

College is equally exciting and terrifying. I'm scared to move out and away. When I leave for college, I'll be leaving home, and it will never really be my home again. But I'm also excited to be moving on. Who would want to stay in high school?

Tonight I caught a movie with the sister & pals. Sometimes I wake up in the mornings, or am palling around the house in the afternoon, and I could swear it was summer.

I applied for a job with the city, but if I don't get it I won't be heartbroken. I'd be working so many hours, and I don't want to have my summer sucked away from me. On the other hand, it'd be nice to have some extra cash for once.

This is such an interesting time.

Hello Real Life.

Today has been a good day, but now it's making me feel really anxious.

I woke up at 10:30am (CAHSEE testing schedules rock), went to lunch with Alex at St. John's, and then went to school for about an hour. After I got home from rehearsal, I saw my car sitting in front of my house! It has a new coat of paint on it, so it's looking spiffier than ever. And then I found out I got accepted to UCLA.

I have an interview tomorrow for a job to be a summer camp counselor.

So now I'm nervous about that, and about picking the right college.

I'm happy, but also extremely anxious.

Sometimes I feel like a child, do you hear me?

An unplanned night turned into a night in which I laughed more than I have in a long time.

Just some more spoiled teenager angsty stuff. Feel free to look away, it's kind of messy.

The past couple of days have been a roller coaster, as far as my emotions are concerned.

It started with the accident, of course. It was terrible, but at least I would get a rental car. I would be able to drive anywhere, and it would definitely be nicer than the van, which makes my hands smell after I drive it.

Then I talked to Mrs. Birdsall, who said that I might not be able to drive it because rental car companies usually require you to be 25. So I did research. And she was right. You had to be 25 to drive, 21 and pay a fee. So I talked to my dad. And he said he'd call the company, and that I may be right. He didn't look so worried as me.

Today I got an email from him saying he talked to AAA, and I WOULD be able to drive the car after all. I was happy, but only until we were in the car on the way over.

"So I can drive the car even though I'm a minor?"
"Yeah. I told asked the guy at AAA if my 18 and 20 year old daughters could drive the car, and he said Yeah, as long as they're covered under your policy."
"I'm 17."
"I forget how old you are sometimes."

And then I was worried. When we got there, everything seems like it will work out. And then my dad volunteers that I'm 17, and the lady behind the counter said AAA won't authorize it unless I'm 18. Becky can drive it, but I can't. To my surprise, my dad follows the lady out to the back where the cars are kept. I can't drive it - the one who is affected by all this - yet we're still renting the car? Furthermore, how were we going to get it home? Mom was at work, Becky doesn't come home for five more days, and I can't drive dad's car, which is not only a brand new Mini Cooper but also a manual. He checks it out, and agrees to rent it. While it's getting washed, my dad tries to make small talk and suggests that I ask my mom if I can drive HER car, which makes me even more upset, because knows full well that my mom would never let me drive her car. After lots of waiting, switching cars because my dad doesn't want one with a GPS system less it gets stolen, and some more waiting, we can leave. And guess who is driving the car home? ME. He drives across the street to another parking lot, gets out, and goes to retrieve his car, leaving me to drive it home.

My parents never break the rules, especially my dad. I was so mad that he was letting me drive the car home, but not ever again. I suppose we could have driven home and then driven the van back to the rental place so he could pick up his car. That would have been alright. But it was easier to just let me drive it home. But you know what would be easy? LETTING ME DRIVE IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. I don't even understand why we got the car TODAY, because it's going to sit outside until WEDNESDAY, when my sister comes home. My parents have no reason to drive it, and I CAN'T drive it. This is such bullshit.

Last night my dad wouldn't let me drive as far as Jessica's because he didn't want me to drive the van other than absolutely necessary. He was even hesitant about letting me drive it to school everyday. I found this so absurd, given the fact that he was ready to drive it up to San Fransisco last week, that I left the house and didn't return until I knew he would be asleep.

He knows I'm upset, and came into my room a few minutes ago to tell me that I can drive the van anywhere, as long as it's in short trips. Since Saturday, the automatic transmission fluid hasn't gone down at all, which means it should be ok, as long as I'm careful. Well jeez, I know that. I've known that. When I drove the van pre-Honda, and when I drove the van this week to get lunch, dinner, etc, I've always made sure we went somewhere within 10 miles. I've ALWAYS been concious of the fact that the van could break down. I've been taught how to refill the autmatic transmission fluid, and I won't have to call daddy if the van comes to a standstill. I'm not a helpless little girl. I got into an accident on Tuesday, and while maybe an excellently skilled driver could have avoided it, I didn't. It wasn't my fault. I was hit. I will take some of the blame for this accident. But my dad is acting like I'm the one who caused it.

"Do whatever you want."

What I want is to drive the car we were going to rent for me.

BOOM crash

Driving Old Blue again doesn't feel strange at all. In fact, it feels completely normal, like no time has passed and I never drove the Honda primarily in the first place.

What's that? You haven't heard about last Tuesday's events?

When I woke up that morning, the world seemed to be giving me little hints as to the day's progression. I started to look for a "cause" shirt for the dress up day at school, but after searching through my closet and my parents' closet and then realizing that I had to leave for school, uh, now, I abandoned my search. I walked briskly outside to the car, got in, turned it on, and turned on the windshield-wipers to scrape the dew away. But it wasn't dew! It was ICE. And instead of turning it into an amusing anecdote about how I threw snowballs at the sidewalk, I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the back seat and began scraping the ice away. My quick motions weren't very efficient, but I thought that I had scraped enough away for me to drive to school. I get in, make a u-turn, and start driving into the rising sun. Oh no, I can't see a damn thing. So I pull over, get out of my car again, grabbed the towel, and scraped vigorously this time. I was running a little late, but I'd been here before. I get back in my car, and continue on to school.

And here is where we get to the fun part.

The is a light on Monroe before you reach the intersection of Monroe and Calabazas, otherwise known as the parking lot. It's an unprotected left turn onto a street with an elementary school, so in the morning it's full of cars who sit in the left-hand lane waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic to turn left. This particular morning, there was one such car waiting to turn, backing up all the cars behind it. There was nobody in the lane ahead of mine. I was proceeding forward. "Ah! I won't be late to school!" I thought. And then I see it. The jutting out of a magentaish-colored car, no signal, no blinker. He swerves into my lane - but it's too late. I stop the car and he'll hit me - and maybe cause the cars behind me to pile up. I continue driving and he'll hit me. So guess what? He hit me. It happened really quick, and I was partially shocked. For a moment I thought that maybe it wasn't scratched at all, maybe the car was dent-proof. I tried to look out the side mirror, but I couldn't see anything. For the better, I decided to turn right onto a side street. The offending car was right behind me. "Oh, you better follow me," I thought. He did. We both pulled over. I got out. And scratched into the side of my gleaming Honda was a huge dent with flakes of magenta in it. I just stared.

"Well..." I said. The driver, a student, probably another senior, came over to me and began apologizing. I went over to his car as well, which had a smashed light and scuffs on the bumper. I called my dad, who was very quick to deal with the situation, and said he's be right there. Then I called 911. While we were waiting for the cop, the guy and I stood in a sort of awkward silence. I wanted to tell him that I was sympathetic to all he was about to go through. When I got into my first accident - that left HARDLY a scratch or even scuff, mind you - I was on the verge of tears. But my sympathy was limited, considering this guy had just put a huge dent in the side of my car. A cop got there pretty quick, and started taking our information. I actually remembered where the insurance info was kept. For that I was pretty proud of myself. My dad got there when the cop was finishing up. He asked if I was alright. I was perfectly alright. Physically, I wasn't injured. Plus, I found comfort in the fact that it wasn't my fault and would not go on my record as a point or anything. It sucked that my car was a little messed up, but in the end, everything would be ok.

I went to school - late, of course (isn't life funny?). By third period the van had replaced the car in the parking lot, AAA had been spoken to, and my car was at the shop.

My car will be in the shop for the next 16 days while $4,000 worth of repair is done to replace the left side of the vehicle. On Friday I'm going to get a rental car, which is the only upside to the whole situation. I'd be okay with driving the van as long as I was sure it wouldn't stop working on me without so much as a warning. Plus, it might be a nice car. Or at least a nice change for a while. I'm hopeful.

Anyways, it's getting late and I have school in the morning, so I'll catch you up on other aspects of my life another time. Deal?

I couldn't let the weekend end.

I made plans to go up to San Fransisco long before I woke up Thursday morning with post-nasal drip. I stayed away from milk, drank lots of water, and blew my nose often. I figured it'd be okay to go.

I went to Heidi's Friday night. And while I did have lots of fun, I also got sicker. I'm glad I got to hang out with the girls, but was more than happy to be leaving the next morning. I got home around 2:30 on Saturday, took a shower, watched an episode of NSCIS, and then fell asleep for four hours. Waking up in darkness when you fell asleep in daylight is always strange. I ate dinner, watched Clue, and went back to bed.

And there went Saturday. Today I woke up late; whether that was due to my sickness or the fact that I hadn't slept well or often, I don't know. I started my Sony Star project. That's about all I did.

And I'm not going to school tomorrow. I probably could go, but I think another day would do me good. Plus, I've got stuff to do that I didn't have time to do this weekend.

And nobody likes Mondays.

Today is awesome because

the video Alex and I made of You and I got posted on some guy's blog and jumped from less than 100 views to 7,000 views in less than 40 hours.

I wish

he was a better friend.


First her, then him.

Great.

I don't why, I don't know why.

Every day after I come home from school, for two hours I have the house completely to myself. I can use the television in the front room! I can get a soda! I can play the piano or guitar without somebody popping their head through the door just to look at me for two seconds, ask some inane question like, "How was your day?" I respond pretty monosyllabicly, because I'm in the middle of something, like an episode of House, playing my ukulele, or even [gasp!] homework.

It's not that I don't love my parents or want to be a complete hermit, I just sometimes like having my space.

Yesterday after rehearsal I decided that although the weather sucked I would venture to the grocery store to buy my week's upcoming dinners and snack things I could throw into school lunches. I had a plan for when I got home. As soon as I got home I would turn on the TV, thereby claiming it for the next half hour. I'd start my mac n' cheese while I cued up the latest episode of Flight of the Conchords. I only had a limited amount of time to do this, because anything past 6 meant that the TV could easily be taken by the parents. When I got home, it was quiet in the front room, so either my dad was out or he was in his room hiding. Perfect!, I thought. But as I'm walking back from dropping off my backback in my room my dad starts following me to the kitchen. As I pull out a pot he pulls out frozen vegetables and a cylinder of sausage. Alas, I am foiled! It's not that I object to him watching the show with me - he probably wouldn't like it, but I never entered that stage where I would turn off the TV as soon as anybody entered the room like Becky did. It's just that he was noisy. I just wanted some me time, that's all. And then, before the episode even ended, my mom came home. So they were talking, being loud, still cooking.

And I just get so annoyed. I dread when either of my parents come home because they always pop their heads in my door to STARE at me for a while. I just look at them like, "YES?! WHAT CAN YOU POSSIBLY WANT?!" And then they leave.

I'd like to have a week or even just a weekend to myself once and a while. Perhaps I'm just really ready to move out. I'm pretty self-sufficient these days. Except for money, I provide for myself. I always make my own meals, mostly out of necessity or because they don't know how to cook. I could be on my own.


In two weeks, I'll know that I got into Davis.

Picture, courtesy of Miss Sarah Lyn from Saturday night's show:





Today I got to wake up later than usual, which was nice. School was uneventful. Rehearsal was pointless. And we didn't do a read thru! I've never done a play where we didn't have a first rehearsal read thru! Furthermore, whoever made the schedule didn't do a very good job. The only day I'm called this week is Thursday, and that's when me and all the other leads will be in San Fransisco until 5. And it was on my conflict calendar. He also scheduled Act 1 and 2 run thrus when Jo, Amy, Prof. Bhaer, Laurie, and Marmee will be in Ontario. That's just not going to work.

In less than a month, I'll know where I'll be spending the next four years of my life.

R&R Brainwaves

Last night I had an amazing show, so I should put up pictures or videos.

But instead....