tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59072322009-10-14T20:18:20.373-05:00Shadow on the sky"someone's shadow was on the sky"ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.comBlogger257125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-80057740273921448052007-06-01T10:06:00.000-05:002007-06-01T10:27:43.444-05:00When I spoke to my parents last night, they both told me to "get a good night's rest." Unfortunately, this was impossible, because of a telling and typical Daniels Hall moment. I went to bed around 11, like usual, but I was rudely awakened at 2:45 by the fire alarm. After changing from the booty shorts I wore to bed into some pj pants, I grabbed my ID and was out the door (this sounds like ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-57020629514455712492007-03-05T06:52:00.000-06:002007-03-05T06:54:16.566-06:00Last year, writing the TOK extended essay, a 4,000 word paper seemed impossible. My paper took months and I agonized over it. Yesterday, I wrote the same length in a day. Why am I not an English major?ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-51314305189774372982007-02-18T12:08:00.000-06:002007-02-18T12:14:46.890-06:00For most of my life, people have remarked about how small I was. For a long time, I was kinda like, whatever I am a normal sized person, you are just confused. But over a long period of time, I decided that I actually was smaller than the average person. I had small feet, little hands and a generally petite body. Or so I thought until I arrived at college. So far, I have not recieved one "you're ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-40974477826895984102007-02-13T09:50:00.000-06:002007-02-06T20:31:29.887-06:00One thing I am definitely appreciating in Cincinnati is the snow days. In highschool, we had an allotted number of snow days, or something, and the number was approximately zero. So, even on days when cars literally had to be dug out of the snow (Thanks, Laney), we went to school. Here, it snows and school is cancelled. Mmmm.And they're not afraid to call it a snow day, either. None of this "ok, ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-35776864687979634852007-02-05T20:49:00.000-06:002007-02-05T21:06:22.049-06:00"Andy Studenski, he's so fun!"Ok, so I realized that Studo is my best guy friend. And I also realized I have never blogged about him (actually, that's a lie, he got a brief mention in a post a few years ago). To remedy this, a post.I met Studo in 9th grade, and I had a few classes with him. I'm not entirely sure how many, because I was pretty unclear on the difference between the two Andys that ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-3010252791032920312007-01-30T18:22:00.000-06:002007-01-30T18:51:03.855-06:00soooo college. is something i have not talked about yet. i have been meaning to, really truly i have. but it seems like i spend 80% of my life telling people what happens in my life. i didn't know if i needed another time to talk about what happens to me on a day to day basis. i'm already on the phone with my parents, talking to highschool friends on the phone, chatting with college friends aboutameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1166158489165736142006-12-14T22:41:00.000-06:002006-12-15T01:37:44.103-06:00As little as I could believe a year had gone by last December, I can believe the two year mark even less. It's odd, really, marking things by years. I miss Justin at very random times, unrelated to the time of year or what I might be doing. But for some reason, anniversaries make me sit down and think, take some serious time out and remember. Today's a day when I don't feel like pushing my grief ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1143907368496590342006-04-01T09:57:00.000-06:002006-05-16T12:31:22.073-05:00Failure.After being rejected from two of the three schools I applied to I am realizing that I have never really failed before. Sure, I've failed tests or little things like that, but I have never failed in a way that would change my life.Thinking about my applications, I can see why I didn't get it, but it's still hard to accept. I tried my hardest to make a good application and I think I was a ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1140486657846593002006-02-20T19:30:00.000-06:002006-03-29T14:24:44.770-06:00I feel old. Accompanying your mom to surgery is not a little-kid thing. It's not a kid thing at all.My mom decided that she wanted me to drive her to the hospital for her heart surgery (nothing major, no worries), and I was like "okay, no problem." I didn't really expect the waking up at 5 to leave, or the moment when they say "we'll be taking her into the procedure room now" or the moment when ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1140055694554849302006-02-15T20:02:00.000-06:002006-02-15T20:08:14.556-06:00This is definitely like the eighth post I've done on this topic, but--It's official! I'm a National Merit Scholar! I got the letter today. I had been worried because they've been sending out the letters over the past week and a half and I hadn't gotten one yet. Jacob got his on the weekend and I was panicking. Now I can breathe a big sigh of relief for all the free money I'm going to get. Whew. Iameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1139536794597784042006-02-09T19:57:00.000-06:002006-04-19T13:20:45.430-05:00Wow, guys. I have to say, I love you. I'd been kinda sad that no one had commented on any of my recent blogs. Finally, I realized that I set it to 'moderate comments,' which means that i have to approve all comments before they appear. Thank you for all the lovely notes over the weeks, they made my day and made me feel much better about everything.Yeah, people will support me if I don't forget toameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1139026252558369742006-02-03T21:44:00.000-06:002006-02-09T20:06:30.016-06:00I thought I'd kicked my depression, but it still shows up in little pockets of melancholy. This past week or month I've fallen into one of those pockets and I can't seem to drag myself up by my bootstraps. I hate realizing that I don't have any right to complain about anything anymore. I already got all the sympathy one can expect for depression last year. Everyone views my sadness and related ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1138672418910300572006-01-30T19:45:00.000-06:002006-02-07T21:50:56.226-06:00People suck. Until today, I thought SLP was a relatively tolerant high school. I have lots of GLBT friends/acquaintances and they all seem conformable being out. But I need to express my dissatisfaction with the world today. I was passing out a survey for the gay/straight alliance (see the 'straight' in that name? that's me), and people decided it was acceptable to heckle me.I'm not sure how it ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1137355001831850222006-01-15T13:00:00.000-06:002006-01-21T23:41:11.650-06:002006. I never thought this year would actually come. I've never planned much further than the end of this year. Sure, I have huge goals for college, but past that I don't have any goals about life. I have a few years to figure it out, but then I have to have some life plan. Do I want to get married? Have kids? Live in LA? Live in NY? It's like MASH. (Which, strangely, says that I'm going to marryameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1134592482450569262005-12-14T20:00:00.000-06:002006-01-14T13:51:01.046-06:00525,600 minutes.It's been an entire year since Justin died. Definitely the hardest year of my life. I don't know what to say; I've accepted that he's gone, and that I can't do anything about it. I'm trying to accept that it was an accident, that people die daily, that shit happens. I say trying, because I haven't gotten there yet. Because I know that I will never be able to detach myself from ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1132377509127431322005-11-18T22:32:00.000-06:002005-11-18T23:18:29.193-06:00One of my least favorite feelings is of acute embarrassment. I know that everyone must feel that they get more embarrassed than other people, so I can't say that it's worse for me.But I hate the feeling when you realize that you've said something horribly wrong, or you've forgotten something, or you've missed the point of something, or you have done something you shouldn't have. What comes ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1130465783192302352005-10-27T20:54:00.000-05:002005-10-27T21:16:23.226-05:00Woah. It's been a while since I've blogged.It looks like I'm going to graduate, which rocks. Seriously, it rocks. GED class is obnoxious but feasible. The teacher seems nice, and the curriculum is a critique on mainstream textbooks. I get to personalize what I learn, which means that I can focus on cultural shifts instead of presidents and wars. Apparently, I'm applying to Cincinnati this weekendameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1129163870445791462005-10-12T18:45:00.000-05:002005-10-12T19:37:50.493-05:00Life. Right. Senior year is tough, I'm still praying that US History will work out and I'll get to graduate. There are several little details to be worked out, such as: I'm not in a US History class, and I don't graduate if I don't take it; I'm supposed to take a GED class during theater time; it's in Hopkins, and I have no ride; and I really, REALLY don't want to take it. As I say, little ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1127007195653534052005-09-17T20:20:00.000-05:002005-09-17T20:33:15.660-05:00[Warning: Incredibly Braggy Post will Follow]I am in such a crazy-happy mood it's not even funny. Woah. I'm one of two (two!) National Merit Scholar Semifinalists from SLP. It might sound kinda bad "only Semifinalist?" you ask "why not Finalist?" But, the best part is, at this point, Semifinalist is the best there is. All the Semis compete to be Finalists, and most of them get it. It's basically ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1126321683013269072005-09-09T21:52:00.000-05:002005-09-09T22:08:03.106-05:00I'm really bleary right now, because I didn't sleep as much as I should have last night. But I feel the need to blog about school.My schedule got figured out (kinda, but everyone has some issues), and I think I'll like all of my teachers. Score. No Mr. Psych or Mrs. Borscht this year! College is still frightening, but I'm dealing with the idea.In retrospect, my summer was pretty good. I was lazy ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1124576558647572412005-08-20T17:11:00.000-05:002005-08-20T17:22:38.653-05:00"Well, you've still got a year," says my mother of college. Um... I'd love to believe that, but the truth is, I don't. I'm not worrying about the actual GOING to college. I think I will be able to deal with being away from my family and making new friends. What I'm currently flipping out about is getting into college. I'm taking the SAT again, and the SAT IIs. Both need to be studied for. I have ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1124338940641891862005-08-17T23:12:00.000-05:002005-08-17T23:22:20.646-05:00Coon Bi is the hub of all crazy people in the Twin Cities. This includes, but is not limited to, those who use public transportation. I've been walking to the bus every couple of days, and I can't make it the whole six blocks to the stop without some random man (or two, or three) honking at me. I'm fairly certain this isn't caused by me suddenly becoming 900x more attractive, but perhaps because ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1123705542214353842005-08-10T14:16:00.000-05:002005-08-10T15:25:42.236-05:00The Killers rocked. Louis XIV (the opening act) did not. Having to wait forever did not. But The Killers were amazing. I screamed my lungs out and sang along with all the songs I knew. It was delicious, unlike the watered-down Coke I bought. Brandon Flowers was adorable. The band was great. The drummer (whatever his name is...) is even more impressive in person. It was my first real concert, so ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1123290207883892602005-08-05T19:51:00.000-05:002005-08-05T20:03:27.890-05:00My braces are gone, and I'm discovering that I hate retainers almost as much as I hated braces.For one thing, retainers hurt when you first get them on. Ok, so do braces. But braces don't make you nauseous or give you headaches. Retainers can.For another, they suck when you want to eat. You have to find this huge ugly plastic case (which doesn't fit into a pocket) and take out the retainers, ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5907232.post-1122432961949401112005-07-26T21:44:00.000-05:002005-07-26T21:56:01.956-05:00So I'm not joining the Army. I know this doesn't come as a surprise to most of you, but the Army hasn't quite figured it out yet.The recruiters call me every couple of weeks. If I'm lucky, I'm not at home when that happens, but every now and then I have to talk to one. A couple of days ago, I took a call from a recruiter. As soon as they identify themselves, I always reply "I'm not interested, ameliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15952743854936340827noreply@blogger.com3