notations.

Christmas season started last week. I can't believe I said that. I don't get crazy over much, but this is one thing worth it. We might as well just go ahead and scratch that whole Jesus thing and focus completely on the shopping; no 12 days of Christmas, make it 30. Oh, and I mean 30 BEFORE, not after like it used to be. How ridiculous.

I want to get into Governor's School so bad it seems like it's almost real; yet, I keep pushing it out of my head because subconsciously I think/know that it won't happen. These are truly the trials and tribulations of the terrible teenage years (also, I'm fantastic at alliteration).

Those of the male persuasion suck. I've decided to stop caring. Why would I want to be in a relationship with a guy anyway? Since when do I need justification from one who is inferior to me?

Creationism is not science. Discuss.

hahahaha I win.

There's a whole post on my favorite teacher's blog based on a comment I left.
PWND N00BZ ^-^

untitled.

I will be 17 years old in two days.

I'm excited, don't get me wrong; I love my birthday, but this year it really got me thinking about the significance of years.

We spend the first 20 years of our lives wishing we were older, then the rest of our lives wishing we were younger. So far, for me, the only importance a birthday has is that it indicates more possibilities, more responsibilities, more that I can do. At 12, I got to paint my nails. At 14, I was allowed to wear makeup.

This birthday means that I can legally buy tickets to an R-rated movie. Woo. I can't enjoy it, because I know what next year means, and 17 just does not measure up. At 18 I can vote. I can buy cigarettes. I can legally separate myself as an independent entity from my family. I can enter television contests. I can go to clubs. I am, in the sense of the law, an adult.

And then what? Then I spend 3 years waiting for 21, when I can legally buy and consume alcohol.

And then what? I spend years longing for 17, when my only worries were homework and stupid boys and which R-rated movie to waste my money on.

Why don't we love our birthdays for what they are? Why not celebrate with the mindset that we have learned and grown and become wiser for a whole year more? and thank God for that?

today.

Today was better.

Today I: a) almost burned my hand off with Aluminum Something Iodide Thing and b) completely froze all my other extremities while doing water quality testing down at the Eno River for AP Environmental.

Today I learned that you can put too much pressure on the contents of a titrator and make the needle end shoot off into your bottle of extremely acidic waste water.

Today I cried from laughter. And hysteria. And possibly exposure.

Today I discovered by BSing an essay for Governor's School that I have a very modernistic outlook on life.

Today I realized that my birthday is in a little over a week.

Today I dressed in all black, put black goo gel in my hair, and hid my face behind a thick layer of black paste makeup which nicely contrasted my green eyes.

Today I made a small child dressed as Spiderman sob, run to his mother's open arms, and scream that he saw a monster.

Today I sang "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings To Zion" from Messiah approximately 93274239487 times.

Today I didn't think about immature, insane, and intolerable people in my life.

Today I didn't think about yesterday.

Today was better.

things I hate about ***

He's a goddamn liar.

• Looking For: A Relationship
• We should definitely hang out more.
• I'm grounded.

He's arrogant as hell.

• I love being able to play the guitar.
• Forever fixing his hair.
• Struts like a rooster ("I'm so hot" mentality).

He uses people.

• "I miss the way you kissed me."
• Let's hang out so that I can lie to you to get something I want.
• I just told her that so she would leave me alone.

He is stupid.

• Do you really not realize you're messing with two girls who have been friends since elementary school? who talk EVERY DAY?
• Do you honestly think you can get away with this forever? with all these girls?
• Do you truly not comprehend that we could destroy you?

He got me to give him a second chance.

I think that's what I hate most.

bad, bad road.

You know what the third-worst thing is?

The third-worst thing is when a close friend whom you love dearly and talk to all the time suddenly, for one reason or another, perhaps a fallout of sorts over romantic issues, stops talking to you, so you stop talking to them. The lines of communication are readily available, but neither person reaches out and soon, the entire friendship is in question as it deteriorates before you.

You know what the second-worst thing is?

The second-worst thing is having two friends like that.

You know what the worst thing is?

Realizing how much you miss them, but being unable to take that step.

things you learn by working in a cafe.

"Organic" does not necessarily stipulate that it's fresh.

Always always always brew the espresso into the water when making an Americano, not the other way around, because the one time you get lazy and do it the backwards way, Americano Guy will come up, bitch about how the crema's not right, get you to remake it, reject it again, then storm out (but not before hollering about how Starbucks can do it better).

Customers beg to be lied to. "Is the Mozzarella and Tomato sandwich good?" "Yes, of course." A better question is which is a more accurate reason why I said that:

a. I really don't care about your lunch.
b. I get paid when you buy things. Just buy the sandwich.
c. I actually really like the Mozz & Tom.

Who knows, it could be any or all of those answers. It's probably one of the first two, though.

A customer would have to be a freaking superhuman demigod(dess) to tell the difference when I give them whole milk instead of 2% (we don't have actual 2% milk; we have to mix whole and skim. I'm not just a bad person). They deserve those extra few calories, picky bastards.

Fat people always ask for skim milk.

Pregnant women are the most awful and obnoxious people ever. I honestly don't know or care if the asiago cheese is pasteurized. No, I can't find out. Because no one knows. Well, I'm sorry you can't eat any cheese that isn't pasteurized. You know, actually, I'm pretty sure it is pasteurized. Go ahead and eat it. Your child's probably going to be defective anyway, having your genes, so what's this little bit of spoiled curd gonna do?

Children are demons. They scream. They cry. They take the frosting off of their beautifully decorated cupcakes and draw mediocre sketches on the beige wall.

Apparently, only Hispanic people know how to cook or wash dishes. Hence, Spanish is the most useful language ever. "La basura" means "the trash." "Que es eso?" means "what is this?" "Seguro que si, mi amor" means "of course, my love." Other conversation between members of the BOH (back of house) staff is usually about your ass.

Don't trust iced coffee.