changes on bushberry way

Well, my first full day... wait a minute... I am typing in IE... and it's working! HOLY SH*T!

Anyway... today was my first full day at home. I woke up at 12. I had scrambled eggs. I watched GSN. I played on thefacebook. I ate dinner. I watched The Apprentice (boo for Kelly beating Jenn). I played on thefacebook again.

The life of a god, right? WRONG. In between playing on thefacebook and dinner, I experienced 2 pretty weird things at my house. First of all, my mom came home and told me all about "the facelift" our house is getting. Tomorrow, they start putting in hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs. I think it should be pretty nice, although I am not looking forward to moving crap around. Also, we are going to be painting... like EVERYTHING. My house is really open. The foyer and family room are pretty much one big open space. So we are painting the foyer wine and the family room champagne (ooh... alchohol... LOL). It's going to look REALLY different around here. I guess this place could use something to make me want to be here... but it's still no substitute for an f-ing Christmas Tree.

The second weird thing in the house was in the form of my brother walking into the house at 6:15 with keys in his hand. Yes. My little brother is driving now. IT IS SO WEIRD! I feel so old. But, I am SO glad that I don't have to play taxi anymore. At dinner he was all like, "Booooooooooy... I'm so excited! Tomorrow's Friday and I can driiiiiiiiive!" I was like, "So." Apparently it is a big deal that he is going to be able to drive a mile up the road to the basketball game to the school where he spends the whole day anyway. I guess I shouldn't be so insennsitive... it's something new to him.

Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have to be up early to move stuff out of my parents' bedroom so they can start on the floor in there in the morning. I'm looking forward to going back to CU for the basketball game tomorrow though...

panic in greer

Wow. There was about to be some serious issues here in Greer. Yeah, that's where I am. I have decided to go ahead and deal with the fact that I live in Greer. I don't live in Greenville. I live in Greenville County, but my mailing address is Greer... now that I have claimed Greer, Hoke needs to give up Clemson and go ahead and claim Seneca... at least it's not Walhalla... OR GREER!

Anyway, the panic I was talking about was in reference to not being able to post from the IE on this computer. I don't know what the dilly is here. Something is always short bus about this computer. Thankfully, I can blog using Netscape, so that is what I'll be using while I am home this break. Netscape v7.1: Preferred by Bloggers in Greer (just a little plug).

Well, I haven't written in a good long while. Exams are over. I made 3 As and 3 Bs. A 3.35. I am okay with this, although I really wanted a 3.5. Now my cumulative GPA is 3.25. I'm not happy about it either. Luckily though, I am taking 13 hours next semester, which should be 13 hours worth of As. I don't know if that will bump me up to a 3.4. That is the goal, 'cause that is cum laude.

As for graduation, I am once again at a crossroads about where I want to go next year. A lot of my friends at Clemson are trying to get me to stay. I know I would have a good time. But I REALLY don't want to be that old guy (aka Tarik... LOL). Right now, my applications to all 3 schools are only partly complete. I have to give out recommendation forms and send in money to USC and Clemson and fill out a whole 2nd part of the UGA application. I think I am going to be lazy and just not finish applying there. Seriously. I would be close to my UGA friends, and it would be a lot of fun... I dunno. I'll apply there if I get really bored and have nothing else to do... so it looks like I'll be applying there.

I thought I had more to say... I haven't written since the 8th... so I guess it's been a week. Tragic. Sorry about that. I guess I just enjoyed my time in Clemson without class and exams a little too much. But, not to worry. I am home in GrOSS now and me and Netscape are going to blog the Christmas Holidays away.

OH... THAT'S what I wanted to discuss a little. The Christmas Holidays at my house. Well, it doesn't feel like Christmas. We haven't truly done a Parks Family Christmas since I was in high school. Year by year, we have dwindled down to this year, in which we don't even have a tree. My mom was all like, well, you know we are having a lot of work done on the house. Yeah. We are painting and getting hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs... but part of me thinks that we wouldn't do a tree even if there wasn't anything going on. There used to be a time when our house was the brightest in the neighborhood. Now it's by far the dullest. Home just feels weird now. I hardly know it. I don't want to be here half the time. It's sad, 'cause I remeember in 8th grade when I LONGED to be in this house while it was being built. Eight years later, it's just my folks' house. But don't get me wrong... my apartment at The Reserve isn't home either. I think I am just ready for my own steady place. Something that I can really call mine...

...I think the want for this has sprung from episodes of How Clean is Your House? and Trading Spaces... lots more of that and other TV shows to watch over break... oh joy.

t'was the night before my last exam...

...and in a cup in my hand, was a concoction of 99 Apples and fruit punch. That is right, fellers. A toast to being done with making up that beast of a cheat sheet for Dr. Dunston's sorry exam. Wanna know how I really feel? This is the away message I made up... inspired by the "Stressed Out College Student During Exam Week" away message that has been floating around...

today we salute you, dr. dunston... a real american hero. you stepped up to be our fourth read teacher after one had a meltdown, the other was a succubus, and the next found out teaching 2 classes would stress out her pregnancy. you live all the way in athens, ga, but brave i-85 every day to come teach us pissed off 4th year elementary ed students. you taught us as much as you could in 3 weeks, and you are even allowing us to use a cheat sheet for the final! how nice, seeing how the word on the street is that your exam is going to be impossible even WITH the cheat sheet. so dr. dunston, crack open a nice cold bud light... and hope that none of your read 460 students pissed in it.

Yes. The teacher that was our "saving grace" better watch out and save her own ass. Well, I guess that isn't necessary, seeing that we can't really evaluate her because SHE HASN'T BEEN OUR TEACHER THE WHOLE TIME. I think they should just let us evaluate the entire School of Education... with one of our famous rubrics that we learned about... you know, it's so sad that they were able to turn a batch of decent, upstanding, moral, teachers-to-be into a bunch of highly intelligent, pissed off, homicidal young adults. I hope they are happy with themselves.

I'm not going to study a drop more tonight. But I do plan on indulging in a few more drops of this beverage... lol. It's a celebration. Tomorrow, I will take the last final of my undergraduate career. Wow. I'm so utterly excited. However, on January 8th, I have to take the Praxis II... not looking forward to that... a WHOLE DAY full of questions about teaching... I could cry right... but I'm too excited about being done with finals here at Clemson.

Oh well... 10:17 pm and nothing to do until 12 noon tomorrow... I think some TV and lounging is definitely in order... as well as some more of this delicous spirit...

skeezas, part ii

Well, well, well... How the sure-of-themselves have fallen. How the skeezas have proven themselves skeeza-ish.

Remember all that bitching last Tuesday when my group made up the rubric for our presentation... I'll refresh your memory... 1 to 4 point... 1 being the worst, 4 being the best... 1 point if your presentation was 2 minutes or less, 4 if your presentation was 5 minutes or more... 5 minutes was too much for some people so the griped and complained...

AND THEN WHEN THEIR TURN CAME TO PRESENT ON TUESDAY, THOSE SAME SKEEZAS TOOK FIFTEEN F-ING MINUTES!

Skeezas.

As for Dr. Kaminskeeza, she's not so bad anymore... mainly because I don't have her anymore. MUAH HA HA HA HA! And she was ever so sachharine sweet to us on Tuesday... bringing us in donuts when she wasn't sure that we were even going to get 85% of the class to do her teacher evaluation. HA! That woman, bless her heart. Did she really think that the majority of the class WASN'T going to grill her ass? She got all ones and twos from me... a couple of threes, but on the whole, she didn't do well with me. I did, however, say that she smiled a lot, which made up for the times when all of us were really mad at her. Too bad she didn't bring us donuts and stuff like every class... I think the super-sweetness of the Krispy Kreme would have overshadowed her skeeza tendencies.

Anyway, two more exams to go. Is it okay that I don't want to do ANYTHING anymore? I got my student teaching assignment today, so all I can think of is doing that. I am going to be at Code in Mrs. Stephens' class where I wanted to be... I am SO excited. NO CLASS whatsoever. And I talked to Christy from camp today who teaches at Code now, and she said that I am really going to enjoy student teaching. I really hope so. It will be great to get in there and do something after sitting on my duff all Christmas break... eating ice and getting yelled at for it... MOTHER, I ATE A BIG CALZONE TONIGHT, SO I'M NOT JUST EATING ICE ANYMORE...

I would never call my mother a skeeza, but I have to admit her behavior on the phone on Sunday night was definitely skeeza-ish. I am sure that she will prove herself to have many more skeeza tendencies when I go home for break... I REALLY hope I get to go up to New Jersey to visit Betsy with the gang for New Years. Oh, mommy... please don't be a skeeza when it comes to letting me go up there...

...two more exams. I don't think I'm studying for the one on Thursday. Dr. Dunston (Read Teacher v4.0) is definitely not a skeeza... she is letting us have a cheat sheet with whatever we want on it. She obviously does not know my talent with small fonts. Watch me take my whole Read notebook into that exam on that sheet of paper...

ice, ice, baby

I believe I have talked about my mom in here before... and how utterly ridiculous she can be sometimes.

This entry is nothing but a reaction to a phone call I got this evening. First of all, lemme put this into perspective for you (hold on, I feel the need to go get a cup of ice water first)...

Okay. I'm back. Anyway. Whenever I get a call from my parents, whether it be from one of their cell phones or from my house, the ring is the "Kick" tone. If you have a Nokia phone, you know what it sounds like. It kinda sounds like the "You're In Trouble" ring. Yeah. So I'm eating dinner, when all of a sudden, I hear this "kick." It's my mom. She asks me about what's going on... why I didn't go to church today... and then...

>>CRUNCH!<<

"What are you eating?" she asks. I tell her it's just ice. Then she freaks out... "Do you eat ice a lot? Are you just doing it because you were drinking something and it is done now, or have you been doing this for a while?" What kind of answer do you give to a question like this?! Well, yeah, mom, you caught me... I've been illegally crunching ice, and I know that I am under age and should not do it until it's legal at 37, but I just have to have it... I'M ADDICTED! Well, I simply told her that I always do it. I like crunching ice. Then she goes, "Well, two things: I heard that it's not good for your teeth, and I also heard if you crush ice a lot it means something." This is coming from a woman who stopped taking us to the dentist because we never had cavities and because the secretary at the dentist's office saw my dad at the mall and told him that we had a bill we needed to pay... and she is concerned about my teeth? I doubt it, highly. She is concerned I have the "something" that crushing ice "means..."

Well, yes, mommy... IT MEANS THAT I LIKE CRUNCHING ICE!

I really hate the losers who sit there in their think tanks and come up with reasons why people do little quirky things. People have their little habits because they satisfiy their need to do them. Just because someone wears a trucker hat, it doesn't mean that they are trying to attract a certain type of individual. Just because a person wears black doesn't mean they are contemplating death (my mother subscribed to both of these theories until I set her straight).

Just another thing to look forward to when I go home for a month...

a nasty dream

I said these words to my roommates this morning, and I believe they thought I was going to talk about a wet dream. If that is what you are in search of, go here. But if not, stay a while and listen to this disturbing and disgusting dream that I had last night.

First of all, I must say that if you look at my profile, you will see that I am a member of a blog entitled My Dreams. I was invited to join by Sammie... Tragically, Sammie has not kept up with it. I myself only wrote one entry in it. So, I'm not going to put this dream in there (however, the dream that I put in there DID come true... Clemson DZ's... Candie Mallory and Jourdan Davis are the only acceptable ones). Anyway...

So, I believe that it started in the parking lot of my high school... which is exactly 1 mile away from my house. I really needed to use the bathroom. But instead of going back into the school, I just decide to shoot it home as fast as I can. Well, I couldn't make it. So, I stopped at the Amoco at the light right up from my house. Normally, this Amoco station, which is infamous for outrageous gas prices, is just a puny little regular Spinx gas station. But in this dream, the Amoco had turned into a big ol' travel stop... like one of those Flying J places on the side of I-85. Anyway, I go in, and there are tons of people around. This is also weird because the gas station is in the middle of suburbia. It's about 5 miles to the highway, and there is nothing around but churches, schools, grocery stores, and hundreds of neighborhoods. Well, among the travelers stopped at the Super-Amoco is none other than Daniel Crout... a freshman tuba player in the band (who just got a bid to KKPsi--CONGRATS!). I don't have time to talk to him though, because not only do I need to use the bathroom terribly, but I am hungry and extremely thirsty. So, I grab a can of Coke and pop it open to quench my thirst before I use the bathroom... When I walk up to the bathroom, I notice that there are many, but they are all pretty crowded. I wait my turn HOPING that the bathroom that opens up when it is my turn is clean and decent. Well, when the little boy comes out ogf the bathroom, it's my turn. I didn't like the thought of leaving my Coke outside of the bathroom in the midst of all the travelers... I was afraid someone might steal it or put something in it. But I didn't want to take it into the bathroom... that just seemed... nasty. Well, I did it anyway...

That bathroom... was the sickest, nastiest, most grotesque thing I have ever dreamed in my life. The floor was dirty, and back behind the toilet against the wall there was nasty brown grimy grungy stinky stuff. The toilet was atrocious, there was bodily fluid everywhere, and it was just wet with nastiness. The bathroom was really just a stall, but it had a rusty brown paper towel dispenser on the right wall when you walked in. The left wall of the bathroom/stall wasn't a wall at all... it was nothing more than a board. Kinda like it was meant to be a stall. But this board was well above waist level, so the person on the other side could see all your junk.

Well, I held my breath as I began to use the bathroom because it stank so bad. Well, you know how sometimes you go into a stinky place and you can hold your nose, but your mouth is still open, but you don't even want to hold your mouth open because the air is so nasty tasting and you don't want to digest any of the bacteria floating around in the air? Well, that's how I felt. So, I held my nose and shut my mouth and tried to pee as fast as I could. Then, I realized that in the "stall" next to mine, there was a man with a little boy. I think the little boy was not old enough to go to the bathroom by himself, so his dad was helping him. Remember how I said there was a board that did not go down very far? Well, in this space between the board and the floor, the little boy managed to miss the toilet and hit me. I gasped at the nastiness that was occurring, which made me smell the stench of the room as well as open my mouth, so I quickly zipped up and retreated from the disgusting stall with my Coke.

But once I got out, I realized there was no use of the Coke anymore... It was contaminated with whatever was in that bathroom. So I threw it away and eyed a bag of pizza flavored Doritos that I saw before I went to the bathroom... Then I started to gag. I didn't want those Doritos anymore. I had lost my appetite and was now getting sick to my stomach.

I walked away from the food aisles and towards the door where Daniel was sitting. I was still gagging profusely when he chuckled and said, "You went into that bathroom, didn't you?" I nodded and continued to gag. Then, nauseated, I walked to my car to go home... Somewhere between getting into the car and driving home, I woke up.

It was SO ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. What does it all mean?

"my heart is racing, i want to scream"

-Little Pill, Encaustic

I'm listening to them now. I love them. I was introduced to them by my friend Will Sloop. It turns out I liberated it from Patrick's car, who liberated it from Will. I took it to Beaufort over Thanksgiving break and wore the CD out. It's good.

Anyway, the line from that song really describes what's going on in the Kingdom of Congruence. King Congruence broke a Ham Rule last night. Yeah... like right after I wrote about how good I had been and how I hadn't broken any in a while.

I was at TD's with some of the Block 3 divas and some of my Gamma Sig sorors... Talk about the opposite of a sausage party (I think back freshman year, we called instances like so "biscuit parties")! Anyway, this individual from a class a while ago came up. I do believe that what was said was a product of my buddy, Bud... you know him, right? Yeah, Bud Light. Anyway, good ol' Bud made me break the Ham Rule. I actually had a crush on this person... back a while ago. Well it turns out that this person broke up with their boyfriend (I know this sounds SO absolutely terrible). My eyes lit up... not really because I was like, "Now I have a chance." I actually, didn't even realize that there was a boyfriend in the first place when I first started liking this person. I found out late last year. Anyway, some of the B3 divas were telling me that I should go for it... hrmph. Right. I may have self-proclaimed a crush, but I will not fall. Remember? I think I talked about that in one of my recent entries. So, a big no for that. As for the aforementioned individual... who knows. They are supposed to be downtown tomorrow night...

This entry was meant to be a serious one... so I don't think that I'll talk about everything that happened last night. I want the entry to be about my situation and my breaking of a Ham Rule. But I will say that I saw my friend Lindsay Kelly from high school and she really just warmed my heart. It was so good to see her... It was actually a testimony to me that even though time passes and things and people change, sometimes the change is for the better... I'm so proud of her and the woman she's become.

As for me and this road to becoming a successful man... it sure as Hell is bumpy...

skeezas

My Language Arts Methods prof, Rebecca Kaminski is a skeeza... bless her heart. A skeeza (to me) is someone who acts like they've got it all together, but in reality, they suck; they are rude, inconsiderate, and two faced. Dr. Kaminski can be nice... like, you'd think she was batting for your team... until she pulls some ish like a huge project the week before exams. Yes. That's what that ol' SKEEZA did to us... after she gave us a pizza party and got people to sell us discounted books (the discounted books were of no real importance to me though). It's okay, Dr. K... you shall be in dumb pe0ple for some idiocracy that you said today AS WELL as earlier in the semester.

The whole reason I am writing about this skeeza is not because of the assignment she gave us though... I am wondering if I am becoming a SKEEZA!? Today in class we got to make up our own rubric for this BS project. Now, I am not any more excited about it than anyone else, but I don't see what the point is in making it so ridiculously easy to get an A. My group was in charge of making the rubric up for presentation... I did most of the work. So what Dr. K asked if time should be figured into the rubric, I said, for the lowest grade, 2 minutes and under, and for the highest grade, at least 5 minutes... that is not asking a lot. But if you had been in the class, you would have thought WAY differently. People were spazzin' out throwin' stuff and cursin' (not really, but I'm just trying to add to the atmosphere)! Dr. Kaminski WANTED 10 minute presentations... I think 5 minutes is a good compromise personally.

But then I got to thinking... am I becoming an ol' skeeza in my old age? I mean, Language Arts Methods today was my second to last class of my undergraduate career ever... Am I turning into an old fashioned fogie?

Even if I do, I will NOT EVER stoop to this level...

i feel like writing...

Poor blog. What have you become?! Just a couple hundred pages sitting there in cyber space longing for the days when I had a chance to actually write in you... I'm so sorry. The past few entries, I have said over and over again how I am going to start writing more. Well, that was during the worse time of my life: THE BLOCK. I'm so glad it's over. I really do miss Mrs. Hatton's class though. It was a good learning experience. I am really looking forward to student teaching in a better situation though.

Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.

Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).

By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.

Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.

So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.

ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...

I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there.

There is a Ham Rule against using that word. Well, you know, I have kept my Ham Rules pretty well, so I'm not worried about breaking it. Now that I look at it, I think that it was a pretty stupid rule anyway. And honestly, following the Ham Rules has gotten me nowhere. I mean, I'm the same as I was when I made them up. I guess I have learned how to deal with my lack of a RELATIONSHIP over the past 4 years. But I haven't gotten any closer to one. Now that I am about to graduate and am getting closer to being out there on my own, I kinda have mixed feelings. I will be the same type of person that my Aunt Irene is... where she has tons of friends who are married and tons of friends and family who keep asking her when she is going to get married. Or, I could be like those cool single people who seem to be the main characters on prime time sitcoms... highly successful and stylish living in my small but sheik Pottery Barn decorated upper class townhome. I dunno. Everywhere I turn boyfriends and girlfriends are turning into fiancees. I guess that is what happens in the early 20s. And in the mid 20s, those fiancees are going to turn into husbands and wives. Dang. I am going to be highly delayed... the boyfriend/girlfriend stage was back at like 17-19. I haven't even reached that stage yet. I guess I'll be married by the time I'm 35... if even then.

I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...

ugh.

I feel so disgustingly Bridget Jones right now. Sitting here journaling with my hot chicken noodle soup in a mug, not a bowl (this is so weird). My throat hurts. It's hurt for a while actually. It usually happens when the seasons change. Hopefully I'll be over it soon though.

Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.

The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.

I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.

I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...

A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...

Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...

I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...

Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).

Just let me be apathetic...

fucked up fall break

1. First of all, the title of this entry is not due to the fact that I was wasted over fall break. I was quite sober, thankyouverymuch.

2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!

I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.

So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!

Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!

But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...

That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.

The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...

Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...

*Please pardon the persistent use of pungent profanity in this portion of my personal thoughts.*
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)

i have been so tragic...

CORRECTION. SCHOOL has been so tragic... and the reason why I haven't written in forever. I am so sorry. Right after I spat all that game talkin' about how awesome my blog was, I jut leave it out there to wilt away. So right now, I am lacking in the cool points. Hopefully, I can get back up there.

Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.

Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.

Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.

Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...

a little bitching never hurt anything after all

So apparently, me being a complete and udder pain to the Eugene T. Moore School of Education actually did some good. Dr. Whitaker, our Social Studies Methods teacher is going to be teaching our Read class now. Alice is back in her f-ing wonderland... LOL.

I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...

mixed emotions

I don't feel like writing a lot... it's late and I'm not in the state to really write anything truly worthwhile. But, the Seneca High School Marching Band is great. PERIOD. No one can tell me any different. That band went out and represented today... they seriously marched their asses off. I was so incredibly proud to be counted as a part of "The Sound of Seneca." The seriously make me proud, and I wou;d not want to be working with any other band... there is something special out there in far left field of the baseball field there on the Seneca High campus. I am so lucky to be a part of it.

Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...

I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.

psycho crazed suicidal nympho maniac

So I have just been brought into the light of what a disturbing journal entry sounds like... and I'd like to apologize for my last couple entries... I don't know who the hell I'm apologizing to... I mean, I don't know who reads this anymore since I don't have a link to it in my profile and I don't write as much. All that's gonna change though. Freshman year my journal used to be a place for simple little whiny entries about my lack of a love life, and I'll be damned if 3 years later I haven't progressed to writing anything more exciting. I do want to say that my sappy, whiny writing is thoughtful and worthwhile though... I have a friend who seriously feels like they are the shit and they are just so mean to EVERYONE... they have this attitude like, "I'm a bitch and I know it... and whether you like me or not, I'm way totally cool." Ha. I am nowhere near that arrogant, but I would like to say, "My blog is the shit and I know it... and whether you like it or not, it's better than yours... if you even have the competence to keep one up." LOL.

Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!

::ahem::

Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.

Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.

So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.

But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.

tehee...

Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.

wait a minute...

...that was so depressing. Too depressing. Why shouldn't I believe. What does it hurt? Besides the fact that it pulls way too hard on the heartstrings, it doesn't kill me...

But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.

It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.

drew's birthday

It's late... really late. It's 2 am. I have 2 exams in the morning. I have NOT written in here in a while. So this late night entry is justified.

My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.

Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.

Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.

Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.

So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.

Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.

This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.

It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.

See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.

10:35 = BEDTIME!!!

It's 10:35 and I am preparing to go to bed. w00t! I haven't written in a while... but I thought I'd catch you and Smouse up on a few things.

1. I wore letters today for the first time since this summer. KKcrap has kinda been at a minimum as of late. Hopefully it will stay that way.

2. Alpha Phi Omega is well underway... so is the controversy...

3. I'm not really crushing anymore... on that individual that sang in my dream... although I think Alanis Morissette said it best when she named her album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie.

4. This Year's Love is currently the song playing on the soundtrack of my life.

5. I teach my first lesson on Wednesday and I am actually pretty nervous.

6. I'm doing a pretty good job hiding all of my internal ish... as always, no one really understands me...

lets talk about something...

...because it's been a while since I have talked about ANYTHING. Last time I wrote in here, Smouse was the topic of discussion. This time, it's not going to be... We are going to tackle one of the many Ham Rules. Rule Number 9: No Self-Proclaimed Crushes. I tend to break this rule a lot. One may consider me spineless, or passive as some have said, but for some reason, I tend to break this rule a lot... this one which goes alont with Rule Number 4, The Alicia Keys Rule: Don't Fall. Yeah. I suck at these two. But I was thinking this weekend (for some VERY ODD reason, being on away band trips makes me think about things like this), what's so wrong with having a crush. I mean, I'm not saying that I have one or not. What I am saying is, I feel like I have behaved pretty well... Since being 21 and back at school, I haven't let emotional ish really drag me down a lot... I mean, the only thing that is pretty sad is my AIM profile... but it basically just gives a visual representation of a song lyric that I really relate to. Actually, I don't relate to This Year's Love at all. There is once again no love this year. Oh well. I have decided that is probably the way it is going to be.

I remember in 12th grade... like it was yesterday. We were in Teacher Cadets and Mr. T asked how many of us thought we would probably get married. I was the only one that didn't raise my hand. I have this sense... it's weird. Not just about marriage, but everything. If I can't see something in my mind happening, then I can pretty much tell it's not going to happen. Most of the time I usually apply it to taking trips and stuff. If I can't forsee it happening, I don't really look forward to it. Honestly, I never see anyone returning love for me in the way that I give them love. Like, I can see Kate and Deni walking down the aisle... I can even see my 30-something year old Aunt Irene getting married. But I can't see me doing it. Not just that, but I can't see myself even dating anyone. As sad as it sounds... I think it's the truth.

How do I feel about this? Well... it sucks. It sucks really bad. But, nuns and monks never marry. Maybe I am to be in the number with them. But that leads me to another question... Is there really anything wrong with self proclaimed crushes and falling? I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen. So if I give into the attraction, nothing is harmed right. I have already told myself that I'm going to end up being a loner (a loner in a very posh home wearing really nice clothing, mind you). There really isn't anything wrong with crushing or falling.

But frankly, it's just not very attractive... to see someone swooning over someone else. It becomes annoying and frustrating... not just for onlookers, but for the person crushing. I'm not ever doing that again. I swear from this moment (9:11 pm on Sunday September, 19, 2004). No crushing. As for falling... you can't really help that. It's a bitch, it is... but there are some things about people that just make a spot in your heart tickle when you think about them... Honestly, I had a dream last night about someone... they sang a song. Not to me, but they sang... I feel that singing is one of the most beautiful forms of expression. When I heard this individual sing, it was beautiful... I cry when some people sing... I just do. I can't take it. Some people's singing evokes emotion within me. I woke up and wanted to cry. It was only a dream... the person prolly can't sing at all... but they sang in my dream.

Anyway... call it falling... I'm not going to crush anymore. Or maybe that's backwards... don't fall, but it's okay to crush... because in all seriousness, crushing is pretty innocent. People crush on movie stars. They can't really fall for movie stars. Falling would entail knowing someone and wanting to be with them. Crushing is pretty much just a feeling felt at a distance... you see someone walking on campus and they are cute, so you crush. Yeah. So no FALLING. Crushing... that's what you can't help. As for my particular situation with this singer... is that falling or crushing? Singing, to me, is a big deal. Hellifiknow. Nothing is going to happen. Just another notch on the old oak log. Another crush that won't turn into anything but a grain of sand in my hourglass of life.

i have a clue

...and within 28 minutes, I have a guess as to your identity, Smouse. First of all, I pose this question... is it possible that you were up at 6:53 and are up now at 7:21 like me... and getting ready to go to your practicum school??? ;-)

please notice the post time...

At the bottom of this entry, it says the time that the entry was posted. Smouse, honey... I want you to take a good look at the time at the bottom of it. Yes. 6:53 am. While you were probably enjoying sweet slumber, I am up writing about you. And you know what? I SHOULD be getting ready for school. Technically, I am supposed to be at Central Elementary at 7:30... but no... you are more important to me, Smouse. Actually... your identity or lack thereof is driving me nuts.

I was talking to Erin on Saturday before the game... walking up to where we start the parade (also take not of this, Smouse... shouldn't the performance be on our minds, not the identity of a fabulous person named Smouse?), and Erin asks if I have any clue as to who you are. And I say no. Then she proceeds to tell me about how in high school, she used to get candy grams and stuff from some mysterious person named "C.M." (or something like that). She checked the yearbook for all the guys with those initials, but she came up with nothing. To this day, Erin has no clue who this character was.

Smouse, I don't want to go on living like this! THROW ME A FREAKING BONE, HERE! But I really don't want you to just come out and say it... it would be much cooler if you gave me hints. But I'll go ahead and tell you this. You are a girl, you aren't in band ('cause you posted a comment during band rehearsal), I am probably not the only person you know in band, and (of course) I think you go to Clemson. I have no idea where Smouse came from... whether it is a nickname, or some derivative of your real name, or whether you like mice (which would make me think that you are an AKA... I love them).

Anyway, Smouse, I need to go get ready so I can sit through another day of class at Central. Please take this blog to heart. With every comment you write, you lead me on like a Tri-Dilta leads on a frat pledge (as Sarah would say).

losers

I am surrounded by losers... in every shape form and fashion. I am sorry... and I don't mean to be mean. But when people are mean or just plain old intolerable, they get the title of LOSER. I am just a little upset with several people and groups of people right now. Due to the popularity of this blog and how much of an overnight celebrity I am (I know you liked my rendition earlier today), I am not going to name names and point fingers. Lets just say... George W. Bush wannabe, prehistoric animal, a bunch of retard moo cows, daytime children's programming, Designing Women, the whole R&B community... they all piss me off.

LOSERS

pen and paper

I hope that this writing thing takes me somewhere... I just realized that I am pretty much obsessed... last night in an interview with the entire chapter of Alpha PHI Omega (not Chi... those chicks kinda had it out for me after The Tiger last week), someone asked me what 3 things I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island. Without hesitation, I said a pen and paper... to document the situation. Wow. I am a writing FIEND.

As for The Tiger, I have gotten a vast assortment of reactions from it... most people LOVED it. Some other people didn't enjoy it so much... you know, those sorors of the lyre... After talking to Cassie and Kate about it, I decided to apologize to the president, because even though I didn't mention her name or Alpha Chi Omega, the entire Greek community knows who it is about. The funny thing is... DAMN... that's a buttload of people. So, nest week in The Tiger, I'm going to talk about how small Clemson really is... and how easy it is to get 150 girls mad at you.

Which leads me to my next observation... Dang a lot of people know me. Not EVEN trying to boast. I mean seriously. There are just an immense amount of people who claim to know me. I was talking to Rachie the other day and she said that being in the band means that you don't have a personal life... Well, along with being in the band, being a drum major, and now being a columnist in The Tiger, everyone seems to know Hamilton. I am beginning to feel the way I felt last year... as Alanis Morrissette says in "Not the Doctor:" "I don't want to be your idol, you see this pedastal is high and I'm afraid of heights." AND NOW BEFORE YOU GO THINKIN' I'M HOT ISH, Jason Grygier told me that that was how I was feeling... I don't think I'm an idol... you little groundling, you...

Anyway, another song comes to mind when I think of living in the limelight... "Overnight Celebrity."

Why don't we...
Write somethin' these ho's will like?
Write shit that's so damn tight
Ham P, you told 'em right?
I can make you a celebrity overnight
Give you ice with the blogs I write
Everybody thinks they know me, right?
Every Saturday I wear white
Holy shit! I'm a celebrity overnight

Seriously... I'm not trying to have a big head. But I just can't get over how many people claimed to know me after my article last week. Ironically though (and this will be addressed in next week's article), at Clemson, everyone is pretty much a celebrity... it just takes you doing something that draws attention to you for you to notice...

sounding off

I am pissed. Why? Well, it is not because of our dear friend Adria, nor is it because I don't know the identity of the wonderful person that is Smouse. I am pissed because I am not black enough? No, don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be as dark as James Hanna... according to some people, he is not black enough either (how in the hell, I have no idea).

The reason James and I are not black enough apparently has nothing to do with the color of our skin. I don't know when black started being defined as a lifestyle, not just a race. But apparently, I deny my blackness. I don't live like a black individual ought. But then again, I guess the whole reason that I don't is because I am ignorant... I don't know HOW a black individual ought.

Now, if one of these utterly tragic people who are telling me that I deny my blackness thinks that because I don't hang out with only black people, talk a certain way, walk a certain way, eat certain foods, or live a certain way, then they are a disgrace to the ever so fabulous color that is their skin. Being black is not about what you do, wear, say, eat, or live. Being black is simply that... being black. Why can't people see that walking around in a diverse community wearing a skin color that is not the majority is a beautiful thing? That is special enough. Why is it that some black people feel that they must make a name for themselves, or (THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH) for EVERYONE. They have to all congregate together because "nobody knows the trouble (we)'ve seen / nobody knows (our) sorrow." My GOD! Grow up and get your mind out of your little afro-centric mind. This is not a black and white world. This is a world of MANY colors and types of people... to shut oneself off to only the people that are like them is ridiculous.

Now, even saying all of this, I guess that I am not the most valid source of opinion. I was raised in a predominantly white community and have always had more white friends than black friends... but you know one thing? Never in my existence, have I ever wanted to be white. What kind of person would I be if I was white? I would not be the person that I am today. I have learned so much about life from being black, and I am proud to say that I am one. I am NOT proud, however, to associate with black individuals that are so shallow to think that ALL black people are supposed to hang out with one another and be the ever so strong backbone for each other because it's such a cruel world and the white man is all about trampling all over us and seeing us fail! Forgive me please, but BULL SHIT!

If ANYONE is prejudice... it is black people. I am quite serious when I say this. In the past, white individuals were people who looked down on blacks and did not like to see us prosper. But thanks to individuals like Martin Luther King, Jr. who not only wanted to see black people succeed, but see blacks and whites live together harmoniously, many white people have learned from the ways of their forfathers and accept blacks and other minorities as fellow human beings. The world is too diverse for them to truly think that they as white people are a superior race. There are so many different races and cultures with wonderful things about them for whites to think that. Of course there are some who are still grand wizards and grand dragons and stuff, but the decent white people FAR outweigh the indecent ones. As for the black community, I am almost certain that there are more of them that are prejudiced against white people than whites that are prejudiced against them. How do I know this? Why is it common to see a couple black people scattered amongst a group of white people, but when there are a few white people in the midst of many black people, people start scratching their heads? Why are there colleges and universities, and then there are historically black colleges and universities? Why do I get looked down on by individuals at South Carolina State, because there are more black people at their entire school than there are at my school? Why is it okay to have BET, when if there was a WET, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would raise hell and call a boycott for cable television?

I'm not saying that there needs to be a WET or there need to be schools solely for white individuals. All I'm saying is, the time has passed for segregation. Look at this... George W. Bush, Gen. Colin Powell, and Condoleeza Rice; Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson (they even got a latina up in there!); Jay Leno and Kevin Eubanks. I mean, come on. OPEN YOUR EYES, PEOPLE. THE WORLD IS NOT AS TERRIBLE AS YOU THINK IT IS. IT IS OKAY TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT AREN'T EXACTLY LIKE YOU!

And the next time you think I am denying my blackness, ask yourself, if you are just denying yourself as a human being.

smouse

Okay, now you faithful readers know that it is not uncommon for me to devote a whole entry to one person... that is what I am doing in this case. Smouse... whoever you are... I love you. I am serious. I don't mean the play play kind of love that people say to their friends when they sign letters, or the type of love that people say when they say the obligatory "Love ya!" Just for future reference, that type of love is pretty much just hearsay... if someone really loves you, they would say "I love you." As I have just said to this Smouse individual.

Smouse, I love you in the way that means if you were about to get hit by a car, I would run out and push you out of the way and put my own life in danger. I love you so much that if I had to choose between money and you, I'd choose you. Yes. I love you that much. Why? Well, its obviously because I have no earthly idea who you are, but you still motivate me through your little messages. I mean, dang... I really do feel like I have a fairy godmother (by the way, Smouse... that just told me that you are obviously a girl... thanks for that). The only scary thing about this is that this person probably sees me and I have no clue about it. Weird. It's kinda like how I ended up on the back of The Orange & White and I didn't even see anyone take my picture.

Anyway, thank you Smouse... for the anonymous encouragement. It is HIGHLY appreciated. And just so you know, Smouse, Tiger Band is definitely ready to "Shake the Southland" this afternoon at the First Friday parade and pep rally and tomorrow at the football game. I have a whole new outlook on the show since Wednesday, Smouse. I talked to Jeff Norman, our visual consultant and drum major coach and he told me that I need to get back into the show. Apparently, he and other people in the band have been able to tell that I haven't been as excited about the piece since before the pre-season performance 2 Saturdays ago. A lot of the problem with the show and the tempo problems and stuff aren't my fault. Actually, it's not really one person's fault or one section's fault. Everyone is doing their best, Smouse... it's just that in a way we are all trying so hard that we aren't really all on the same page. The thing that is going to make things a lot better is an INSANELY tight connection with the drumline and a RIDICULOUSLY tight connection between the band and me... ME... NOT the drumline. No, Smouse, I don't want all the attention on me, it's just that they are listening down and not watching. And now that I think about it, they need to be watching A drum major... not necessarily me, but either Kate, Leroy, or Lindsey would work too.

Okay, Smouse... sorry to bore you with more band stuff. Speaking of band though, Smouse... today, the band was liberated from years of scrutiny and persecution. My editorial about dear Alpha Chi president was published... although you and everyone else should know, Smouse, that I did not say that it was the Alpha Chi president. I said that it was "a sorority president." No names were mentioned, so I did not slander that tragic girl in front of the entire Clemson community. But, I will slander her here online... the whole internet community. MUAH HA HA HA HA! Sorry, Smouse... I got carried away there. Anyway, Betsy and Erin both left me messages saying that it was a good article. Willene just called me saying she had to give me my props about the article and she said the girl had what was coming to her. HAHA! I haven't even seen the thing in print yet. We went to campus at midnight last night to see if they had put any out yet, but they hadn't. So, I am waiting on Nick to get home with one so I can see it... and the tragic picture I took Wednesday after being in the classroom all day and a 2 hour band practice...

So anyway Smouse, once again, thanks a lot for being there... wherever you are. You rock my face off. I want to be you for halloween.

the problem with captain

OMG. And the saga continues... Captain from Castille. Dr. Spede only wants the captain heading west at say... 20 knots. The band wants the captain heading west at like 220 knots. So today, I decided to talk to good ol' Spedie about this dilemma and he told me that for practice sake, we need to take it slow... and that it is too early in the season to take it that pre-season performance/Madison Scouts speed. Okay, I said. We both got up on the podium (I hate it when he stands up there with me... I get so nervous) and he said, "Lemme see 168 (which is the supposed tempo of Captain)." I showed it to him, and he agreed that it was correct. Okay, so we are on the same page... I start out the song... "tweeeet... tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet." WHAT THE HELL?! The drummers have taken control of the captain's ship, turned it around and have it heading toward land at like 300 knots! And at this point, even I was scared it was going to fall apart.

Well, after THAT was over, there was tons of cheers... the band and even some of the people sitting on the sidelines LOVED it. I'm serious... CHEERS. At the next water break, there were kudos all around. I couldn't even take credit for it. It was the drummers. I am so appreciative of them, but why did they do it?

Even with how great it was, I feel like I don't have any control of it.

DM/CUD practice is tomorrow... answers, please...

And also... answers as to who Smouse is! Thanks for the comment... I appreciated it. But, who are you?

the last weekend of freedom

Well, this is it... the final Saturday before football season. In all honesty, I have to say that I am ready for a little football. But, today has been really nice. I got to sleep in, then go to THE BRAND NEW WAL MART IN CENTRAL (I kid you not... that is how excited I am about that place). Nick and I went there with Bobby, who would definitely have to be coolest freshman so far. We went to tragic Anderson Mall too. It was all together a really good day. Right now, I am takin' a little load off, since I just got done cleaning up Justin's and my bathroom (it's ironic how I don't mind doing it here, but I HATE doing it when I'm at home).

Anyway, I know that I have become severely tragic when it comes to updating this thing. My life is really busy, and while I can't make any promises really, I promise to write at least once a week. As for dumb pe0ple... I see dumb pe0ple living on in The Tiger this year. I mean, I did write about a dumb person for my first column. It was about the re-re Alpha Chi president. Love Alpha Chi... just not her.

In other news, Tiger Band is going well (I know you were wondering... it seems like all anyone ever asks me anymore is "How is band?"). I think by Saturday, we will be krunk like no other. We are definitely getting there. The only problem I have is with my song. Yes... f-ing Captain. It's a GREAT song... don't get me wrong (yay for a rhyme), but I feel like Dr. Spede is stifling how great it could be! Yesterday at practice, I was so pissed. He told me that I was too excited and that I was pushing the band on too much. He also said that last Saturday at the pre-season performance, it was incredibly too fast. The ironic thing about this, is that EVERYONE in the band thought that it was so much better that fast. Dr. Spede almost had an anxiety attack, but in the end it turned out really well. I can clearly remember Dr. Buyer telling me good job as soon as I got down from the podium. It was fast, but I had it in control. Yesterday, he basically told me that I was pushing them too much and that I was making them go too fast. What I don't understand is how I could start the right speed and then all of a sudden speed up in different parts of the song... There are no accelerandos in the song. I'll tell you what my theory is... I start out the tragically slow tempo that Dr. Spede wants it and the drums, who have told me before, take it at the speed they know it to be. That means that even if I start it super slow or outrageously fast, they are going to pretty much play it the speed it is supposed to be... UNLESS a "Crazy in Love" moment happens... where I hear the drum captain tell the line to take it at whatever speed I want it to be and they just follow along (that happened at 90 minutes before kickoff once last year). Anyway, I start really slow because Dr. Spede wants me to, and the drums take it faster because they can... the rest of the band pretty much has all concentration between marching and their music... so I am pretty much aware that they are not watching me... BUT the drummers are... and they expect me to be with them because they ARE looking at me... despite whether the tempo I counted off was to their approval or not. So, I end up wuRkeng it hard up on the podium, while the band who is not watching me listens down to the super-psychotic drummers who are hacking at whatever speed they feel is necessary. You see the pattern? It's confusing I know, but I do believe this is the problem. And this is the solution: PLAY THE SONG FASTER. Everyone will enjoy it faster... mainly the drummers and I, 'cause I feel that the winds are gonna go with whatever we do. So, I think I'm going to talk to Spede about maybe taking it the actual Madison Scouts speed.

Sorry to bore you non-musical readers with that band mumbo jumbo. Maybe when people ask me "How's band?" I should just bore them with stuff like that. However, I do see people asking in the future, "How is teaching?" and possibly even "How is pledging?"

white flag

So it is Sunday afternoon... a pretty one. I'm sitting here in my room with pretty much nothing to do. But, I am listening to White Flag by Dido... you know a song from The Crush miniseries. There is no crush right now... but it is a really pretty song. Very strong words in it. It shows that just because a relationship is over, that doesn't mean that there can't be feelings of love still there as well.

I don't know why I went and got all emotional like that. I'm sorry. Anyway, band camp is over. I'm glad. I think band is actually becoming a bit of a hassle for me. In the past, I would want nothing more than to be on the practice field all day long every day of the week. This year, I had to push myself (or P.U.S.H. as Dr. Buyer said). I dunno. Is it my age? It's a little disheartening to realize that the one thing that made me so excited is now something that I have to push myself to do. Hopefully that will get better as the season progresses.

And now, my brain is empty.

I was going to write about a certain sorority president, but it would be better suited in dumb pe0ple. But, it is going to be BEST suited in my first opinions column in The Tiger... muah ha ha.

greetings from the apartmeezy

Hello there... I am writing from the comfort of my bedroom in 101 A The Reserve. Can I just say that I LOVE living here. Living off campus with friends is like having a constant party! It's so much fun. I really don't think I could have better roomies. I just hope that it doesn't interfere with classes and work. Judging from the first couple days of class, the block is going to be a bitch. Therefore, I will hereafter refer to the block as "the bitch." This is going to be so serious.

Anyway, it's been a while. Let's see... band is great. I love it. Some people in the band and KKPsi are getting on my nucking ferves... but this year, I have vowed not to act up or involve myself in fraternity drama... but when it comes to the band, I have a responsibilty as drum major to make sure that people aren't being shitty. The biggest problem is people thinking they are better than other people and yelling at them and talking down to them and getting attitudes... and then some people just act up too much. Yes, band is supposed to be fun, but we have work to do... LOTS of it... Poor Captain from Castille... I think the captain and his fleet of ships sank yesterday at practice... we are struggling. I feel like I am only conducting the drumline because the wind players are SO into trying to get the right spot on the field and/or playing the right notes that they aren't really paying attention to the tempo. I feel a little helpless... I've felt this way before about band... as drum major, sometimes you feel so disconnected from the players being up there and on that podium... especially when people say they don't pay attention to you anyway... yeah, thanks for that.

Enough about the band though... we have a lot of shit to put up with. Last night I listened to the president of Clemson's Alpha Chi Omega chapter talk trash about the band. I'm not going to go into it... She got what she deserved last night... and I just WISH someone would trash talk us again... it kinda shocks people when I get pissed, but after I have said my peace, they get the picture. Alpha Chi Omega only has 3 things going for it now as far as I'm concerned... Kate Moon, Kate Ramage, and Cassie Owens. The president... whoever the ho is... she can get hit by a CAT bus for all I care.

I think that is all... this is going to be a busy semester, so I don't know how often I will write... and the internet here at The Reserve is not extremely dependable. Plus I will be writing for The Tiger also... so who knows. I might be ending delightful* a little sooner than I had expected.... or maybe just at least for this season... I have been having Delia, Mishelle, and Elle withdrawal. I am going to write this afternoon though... we got out of class early because the lady never showed up. HEE HEE. Anyway... I have until 3:15 to sit around and do nothing... then I go see my kids at Seneca High! I have missed them so!

I'll try not to be a stranger...

moving day

Sunday, August 15, 2004.
Saturday, August 7, 2004.
Thursday, May 27, 2004.
Monday, May 10, 2004.

All of these days make up the moving days of the summer. They sucked. Well, the first date is today's date. I don't really know if it is going to suck, but I am almost certain that it will. I am addressing you from the living room of Club 1-Tweezy. I am sitting on the sofa, which I will attempt to sleep on shortly. Miriam, Renata, Sammie, and Karen have so graciously allowed me to stay here all week. I am actually blogging on Karen's computer. It really makes me appreciate my brothers... even if today, the first day of outdoor rehearsal, people got all hot and bothered. I didn't though. My approach for this year is to not say anything. So with that...

We move in at noon... this sucks. Not only is it at the heat of the day, but it only gives us an hour and a half before we have to be at the band room for rehearsal. On top of that, I have to go to rehearsal nicely dressed because I have a scholarship dinner at 5:30... luckily, this year I will be able to attend. In the past, band got in the way, but this year, things are working out perfectly. Anyway, I will probably have to conduct Captain during rehearsal tomorrow as well. So if I'm not sweaty from moving, I will be from that. After dinner, there is outdoor rehearsal, which is mainly going to be pre-game. That won't be terrible, although I lack patience for watching the band do things that I really can't be involved in. After all that, I finally get to move in whatever I didn't get moved in at noon. Then I can stay up until only God knows when, cuttin' up with the roomies and trying to unpack. And at 9 on Monday, there's more band.

::sigh::

I love it.

And on a side note... Damn, Vanessa Huxtable has got a mess of hair on this episode.

twenty one

Greetings... from the land of the legal. I am 21 years old and it feels great. Just to know that I can walk into a bar and order a beer and it will be perfectly fine to do so (don't worry, I am not planning on turning into a lush). But, yeah, the day is finally here, and ironically, I am more excited about the next 4 days than I am about today. I mean, I will be 21 all year... I will be legal for the rest of my life. But the first day of my last year in band will only come once, and so will the day that I move into my first apartment. I honestly can't wait, and the excitement about these two events is overshadowing the pleasure of being 21.

That is pretty much all I have to say... I mean, things are good. I am at home in Greenville right now, but this week, I am staying at Club 1-Tweezy (Miriam, Renata, Sammie, and Karen's) so I wouldn't have to carry all my stuff back here to Greenville. It is a lot of fun staying there, and I am SO grateful to have brothers like them that will let me crash there for a whole week. Just like Hoke, they personify the word "brother."

I think that is all... I am seriously more interested in the life of Miss Delia Johnson right now... I have been writing in there lots more than in here...

OH!!! I got the BEST birthday present yesterday... Well, since Club 1-Tweezy has DirecTV, there are like a seventy-leven billion stations on there. I was watching Oxygen yesterday, and THE FINAL EPISODE OF ROSEANNE AIRED! I was in heaven! Seeing how I haven't even watched regular episodes in like 2 weeks because of Dookieblue not having cable the last stretch of camp, I was completely overjoyed to watch it. It was just as touching as I imagined... when Roseanne explained the whole thing about Dan and his heart attack, I kinda teared up a little... ugh... that show. It really does something to me. I am a Roseanne freak... and damn proud of it!

Okay... see, the entry wasn't so short after all. You got a little more than you bargained for. Well, I hope this holds all you readers for a little while... I don't have much access to a computer right now, seeing how mine is sitting on the floor in pieces at Club 1-Tweezy. I am sure once band starts, I will have lots and lots to talk about. Until next time...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MIRIAM AND ME!

...and actor, Will Friedel who starred as Eric on Boy Meets World. Yes... the television was my babysitter.

night 1 of 2...

...left here in Dookieblue (for all of you who failed to catch on that I renamed this crackhouse of a dorm Dookieblue, I am talking about Mauldin Hall). I have NEVER been more excited to leave a place in my life... except for maybe leaving Claflin that week when I went there for camp the summer before 9th grade.

Anyway... I don't have much on my mind. I talked to my mom and dad both today... Sadly (yes, I realize that what I am about to say is sad), whenever I talk to them on the phone, my spirits sink... like, I could be talking to some friends or something and carrying on a good, fun conversation, and then one of them calls, I answer the phone and just plummet into a pit of monotonous auto-chat. It shouldn't be that way. I should be glad to talk to my parents... but I'm not. As a matter of fact, my dad called while we were playing a game this evening and I looked at the phone, rolled my eyes, and turned the phone off. I did call him back though... when I did, he called to ask about a day that the two of us could get together and do something... by something, I mean something, 'cause I really didn't know what he was talking about. He asked when I was coming home, and I told him that I really didn't have any plans of coming home except on my birthday to drop off stuff that I won't need for the apartment and pick up some of the things that are still there at the house. He got (excuse me) sounded upset that I wasn't going to be available past the 11th... but I told him (in an equally frustrated tone) that it wasn't my fault that band starts the 12th... I really think that a lot of this freaking out by my parents is an effect of one or a combination of these upcoming events:

1. August 11, 2004 - The 21st Birthday... If 18 didn't mean I was an adult, 21 really does... ALCOHOL.
2. May 13, 2005 - Graduation... I will have a bachelors degree... the same thing my mom has... does she think that I think that will make us equal??? Please, I know better.
3. August/September 2005 - Grad School... They will have to let go again... and they will have to get over the fact that I will be in a completely different state.

The main cause being... I AM GROWING UP. I might be wrong, but I don't think they can handle it.

Anyway... what else was I going to write about??? Oh. Grad school... Well, as for Australia, I am not even motivated to try... my parents are freaking out that I am about to start a new chapter in my life here in the same country, so I don't even want to begin thinking about "reasoning" with them about Australia. I was set on UGA... but ever since going up to New Brunswick, Rutgers has been looking more and more appealing. It is far away but close to my godparents, in a completely different part of the country, has a really good school of education, EXACTLY what I want to major in, and the opportunity to start all over again and make completely new friends (not that I don't like my friends here at Clemson... I just didn't get to start fresh since so many people came here from Eastside). At any rate, both UGA and Rutgers have their perks... I will go first to the school that I get accepted to, and then to the school that is cheaper.

It was me looking at Rutgers and their band program that brought me all the way back to the sound of the psi. They don't have a KKPsi chapter... or at least an active one. Want some juicy KKPsi gossip? Go here and read the story of Mu Upsilon Alpha. It kinda made me think... if I go to Rutgers, my KKPsi days this year will truly be my last. There is no way that I would ever join the organization they have there... it violates my vows. Then I was just overcome with the simple fact that, "I am a brother of KKPsi..." And NOTHING EVER can change that. There is no way that I can erase the events of March 28, 2002 from my mind... every day since that date, I have been a brother of this organization... even as an active brother in a chapter full of drama, I wear the letters of the organization... even as an inactive brother, I am just that... INACTIVE, but still a brother of KKPsi... there is no getting around it. And there is no reason to deny that which I am... it would be like me saying that I am not my parents' child... despite all of my issues with them, I am still Brenda and Toney's kid... their soon to be 21 year old kid, but their kid, yet and still.

and at the end of the day, blue is still blue...

So I just got back from New Jersey... like seriously only 30 minutes ago. I am really tired, but in a really thoughtful mood... so, here goes.

I really do think my parents loathe me... and for good reason. Apparently, I am nothing that they raised me to be. I am not respectful, too logical, and don't present myself well... according to them, that is. Once when I was home, I was told that I didn't participate in things with the family enough... like when I came home, all I did was sit at the computer (I can't help it, i like to write). Well, it seems that everytime a conversation (CONVERSATION, NOT ARGUMENT) started on this weekend's trip, it turned into something negative. I don't mind talking to them, I just think that they don't realize that when I talk, I am doing just that... TALKING. I have no intention on getting into a heated argument. I can't even think of one specific incident where this occurred... but all you need to know is that it happened.

I suppose that covers how I am disrespectful... my conversations are apparently taken as me "talking back." They just got done warning me that it was inapporpriate to talk back to people older than me in the real world. Do they really think that I am going to carry on like that with people who are in positions above me? I mean, I would assume that in a CONVERSATION with my parents, a little humorous arrogance would be welcome. I guess not... so once again, back to the computer when I am at home for extended periods of time.

Anyway, that leads me to how I present myself. This was nothing more than insulting. Seriously. My parents think that I am incapable of dressing appropriately. I found this out when I went to church in my brown sandals... or flip flops as my mom informed me. You know, they were the nice brown kind... not like electric blue and green or anything. I wore them with my khakis, brown belt, and brand new J. Crew yellow polo shirt. This apparently and all of a sudden, is inappropriate for church... ALL MY LIFE, I have been told that for church, God welcomes you to "come as you are." I mean, if I was coming as I was, I think I was coming pretty nicely. I have to admit, I would have liked to wear shoes, but I didn't pack any and when I went to the mall to find some, I didn't see any that I liked. So, I ATTEMPTED to go to church in my sandals, but my mom made me put on my brothers Firkenstocks (yes, Firkenstocks with an F... they are so knock offs). Anyway, at brunch later that afternoon, I was informed that I am to always wear a tie to church... THAT IS THE REASON WHY PEOPLE DON'T GO TO CHURCH RIGHT THERE!!! 'CAUSE PEOPLE ARE TOO HUNG UP ON WHAT PEOPLE ARE WEARING (this has lead me to a breakthrough in my Christianity, which I will address shortly). Anyway, my dad told me to ask my godfather, who is the GM of the Hyatt we were staying at, who would get farther in an interview, J. Crew me, or the model tie wearing black Baptist church member Donovan. Larry said, "Well, Donovan would definitely get farther in the interview." Yes. Thank you, Larry. Honestly though, if I was coming to interview at the Hyatt, I would wear a tie... but WAS I? NO! And I didn't dare bring this point to my dad's attention, because that would have been considered reasoning... which I do too much of. SO... I have come to tell myself, instead of Teddy Roosevelt's "Speak softly and carry a big stick," "Don't speak at all and carry a duffle bag full of humility." It just doesn't make any sense to try to carry on a conversation with them if all I am going to do is be considered disrespectful and too logical. My dad says that I will argue my way out of a paper bag... I DON'T ARGUE WITH PEOPLE! If anything, he should know how much of a personal person that I am... if it weren't for this blog, so many people would really not know how to take me... then again, I can talk to my friends without them thinking I'm trying to argue with them.

Lastly, my Christianity... I have decided from this trip, that I cannot stand the whole be like everyone else mindset. Yes, I am a Christian, but I am no where as devout as my dad the Master of Divinity and my mom the preacher's wife. I feel like I have to be as praying out loud and Bible reading as them... I shouldn't have to feel that way. In all honesty, I believe that a person's relationship with God is just that... THEIRS. No one should feel obligated to do anything. Like, my mom... she always tells me that when I'm in church I should smile. WHY SHOULD I SMILE WHEN THERE IS NOTHING TO SMILE ABOUT? I am sitting there listening to what is going on... why should I paint on the grin of a Cheshire cat... so other people in the audience can look at me and say, "Lawd'a mercy that boy's got the spirit comin' outta his ears! JEEEESUS, look at that smile! Hallelujah!" Frankly... I don't care what Sista So-and-so says about me... I go to church for God... not to parade around in leatheri shoes and a silk tie or so everyone can see my Crest smile.

Okay. I think I'm done. I said all of that to say, "and at the end of the day, blue is still blue." Blue is my favorite color and it is something that defines me. In the color blue I find peace and happiness. I could honestly stare smiling at a cloudless sky all day long (I guess that is how you could get me to smile in church). Just like blue is my favorite color, and day in and day out it will remain blue, I will be me... regardless of what anyone says. I hate that I come off as disrespectful and too logical, but it isn't my intention... I can only be me.

new brunswick

Well, I am here in the computer lab of the Hyatt Regency, New Brunswick and I just have a couple of things to report. I have to hurry because there is a hottie that needs in here in about 15 minutes!

1. New Brunswick is a very cool city. I lived here with my godparents the entire summer before 11th grade, but surprisingly enough, I have learned and seen more this weekend than I did all that summer.

2. Among what I learned, I learned that Rutgers University which is here in New Brunswick has one of the best graduate schools of education in the country... including my area or specialization. So, I am going to apply here as well as UGA. It should be good because I need a backup school to UGA and also, if I came here, I would really be getting out of my element.

3. Speaking of out of my element, I love the north. There are so many different types of people. It isn't just black and white... it's so diverse here and I absolutely love it (another plus for Rutgers). I went to New York City today... exciting, but honestly, WAY TOO BIG FOR ME!

4. I do not like sports. Call me a wus, pussy, pansy, loser... but I can't get into sports the way some people can. Being around my cousin and brother drives me insane though because all they do is watch SportsCenter all the time... I swear, if I hear anything else about Nomar Garciaparra, I will choke a bitch...

5. This vacation has been brought to you by my parents. My sanity has also been taken away by them.

6. I am ready to go back to camp... pack it up, and get it out! Important dates coming up...

8/7 - last day of camp, Missy's birthday
8/11 - MIRIAM AND MY 21st BIRTHDAY... YES... BRING OUT THE BUBBLY!
8/12 - section eaders and assistants report for band camp
8/13 - EVERYONE for band camp!
8/15 - THE RESERVE WITH THE COOLEST ROOMMATES KNOWN TO MANKIND!

Okay, that cutie can come back here and kick me out now! See you back down below the Mason Dixon...