Apparently this girl at school, Amanda, had a dream about me. She's an interesting girl, a friend of Elisse's. Well, not really, but much more her friend than she is mine. I don't respect her, but we get along and I enjoy her company.

In her dream I was sitting in seminary, in an absolute fit. I was flooded with tears, pounding the desk, slamming and rushing my head into the wood. I was screaming wretchedly, loudly. "I can't do it! I can't do it! Personality and individuality have been sacrificed on the bloodless alter of acceptance! I have no choice but to conform!" And I screamed such things throughout her dream.

huh.

How true, how true. No matter what I exist as I always end up chatting about clothes and "hot" boys. I'm such a typical teenager. I'm a bitter, cynical, sadistic person who comes across as an intellectual in the right light. I'm like the rest of them, identical except for one key characteristic: I revel in it. I love it! I'm shallow and petty and I love every second of it. This is the only time I can accurately blame my problems on my age. I know this, and plan to rape this tidbit of knowledge to my full advantage. YAY!

I'm in a good mood right now. Play went fabulously, even though I did flirt with every guy there. The male population of the drama department is so open, I adore them all. And NZ was there, of course, looking as dashing and smoldering as ever. I chatted with Dave about color coordination in the spring, and met a new hilarious actor that's afraid of me. Good times, good times.

I hate being bipolar. These feelings of elation and distraction are so liberating that confinement is that much more painful when it plunges down to meet me. I am an instant gratifier, however, so it generally tends to work itself out. Oh well.

Yeah. So: “I would die for you” by garbage is such an exceptionally sexy song that it’s almost implausible. Talk about some fine make-out music. Yes, indeed, sexy make-out music. Mmmmm….

I just read Elisse’s blog and I think she’s in Moab. I’m not sure. How do I miss something like this, dangit? Ahh- I’m so confused. I think I’ll email her, but in her blog she said she was going without communication. What? Alrighty, I suppose I’ll find out whenever she chooses to respond.

I have nothing else to write. If I did continue to write, it would most likely contain nothing but details about how I want to rip certain people’s clothes off. (Surely no one from New Zealand, I’m sure) Since all of you already know about this, I think I’ll leave you now. For your own sake, you know.