Well, well, well kiddos. Would that be kiddoes? Well, whatever the case, I guess I should tell the tale of my epic journey at school before I move on to the deeper, more meaningful meanings of meaning.
Uhh, apart from that strange introduction, I suppose my day as been rather, dare I say it, blah. For awhile in Orchestra one girl wanted to play Avril Lavigne at our final concert, and the seniors (myself included) flatly refused to play. Every one of us. So, she started to cry in the hallway and called me some names for being frank, because, honestly, how is it fair that the seniors play something we don't want to if it is, possibly, the last concert we'll play at ever? I know that there are worse things in the world, but, yah know. So, we might play the Police, which is a good deal. I'd like to play Sting, but it's basically the same thing, isn't it? We've played the Beatles, Elton John, Norah Jones... Sting sounds good to me!
And I have the second highest average in French 5, beaten only by the German foreign exchange student who speaks French all but fluently. As nice and pretty as she is, she doesn't count! And I started the poster for the Caramel-Apple Stand for le Cercle Français (French club!) for the Crafts Show at my school on Saturday (what a mouthful! of apple!). If you attend my school, and what pommes caramels carefully and lovingly crafted by yours truly, they're only two dollars, and I'll be selling them myself from 11 am to 2 pm! We'll also be selling spiced and warmed cider and popcorn balls.
On December Fourth I've got to take my SAT 2 in Writing about thirty minutes from where I live in a place I've never seen. That kind of scares me. After the test is over, I've got to eat lunch at home, and head on over to the grocery store to ring the Salvation Army Bell for four hours! I'm excited about it, though I'll be freezing to death, and begging people for money for the poor. I like to help, though, it makes me happy! I signed up for two shifts because no one else would do it, and I would be there already, anyways. I'll be ringing with my friends, too, so it'll be more entertaining that with people that hate me and/or alone.
I think all this college stuff is making life even harder, on top of father-issues. We've established that he's abusive, but every time I have to converse with him on the phone, he tells me that I should apply to every college but Columbia. While I was filling out my application to Columbia, he made my life miserable. "Are you sure your SAT scores are high enough?... Maybe you should apply early to everywhere else, too, just in case... Do you really think you're going to get in? I don't think they're going to go easy on you, you should probably pick someplace that will definitely take you." Yes, my SAT scores are definitely high enough. No, if I apply early decision anywhere else I want to apply, it's binding, and that makes for a very messy legal situation. Yes, I think I stand a fair chance of making it in, and I know they won't go easy on me (the admissions officer made that clear). And if I apply to someplace I'm sure I'll get into, what's the point of even trying for something better in anything else? He'd do anything to keep me out of New York, anything. But it won't be long until I'm able to explain that I won't interfere with his many affairs because, honestly, I don't care.
So now I don't even mention any mail I get, because, "St. Joseph's University? You should apply there! University of South Carolina? You should go there! Savannah College of Art and Design? You should go there! UVA? You should go there!" Well, there's a lot more than just those colleges... Pennsylvania colleges seem to like me. Bryn Mawr, St. Josephs, Dusquane... I'm loved by Pennsylvania, I suppose! But, I've still got my heart set on good ol' Columbia. At least my dad doesn't want me to join the airforce. They like me almost as much as the army, apparently!
Anyway, I love getting mail from colleges, it makes me feel accomplished. But my dad can turn even that sour. And I feel like I'm just not good enough. But, you know what? God made me great, and I depend on Him far more than my father, and I know that God has something in store for my brother, my mother, and even myself, so why should I even bother with what my dad says? I've got a far better Father, a Father that my dad is going to have to reckon with for his sin one of these days. If God, and his son Jesus, perfect as they are, love me enough to help me despite my flaws, I can't be too bad of a person, can I? And that's more than I need to replenish my spirit, despite my dad.
Well! I've noticed a lot of people pitying me lately, being super-nice to me at school. And I like the attention, I really do! So, I appreciate it, because it's not just pity, it's an understanding without the words. I don't have to tell some people that something's wrong, and they set it out to make it right, and maybe I've underestimated some of my friends (and overestimated others). I think I'm finally going to break out of my little depressed slump, and start perking up! I've got to send some of that energy someplace, so I think I may just take some time out from cleaning, cleaning, cleaning to paint! I've got a big board in my room that I want to make into a wet, old street in either Paris or Ireland. But I'm bent on Paris right now, because I'd give anything to spend a week sleeping, eating, and living le Louvre.
I'm just all over classic art soudainnement! J'aime bien l'art du monde, mais je n'ai pas le temps de faire le connaissance avec tous! But I will! I will! *que malevolent (haughty French) laugh* See, if I'm doing the "English kanigits" laugh, you know I'm feeling better! So, if any of you have any good pictures of Paris or Ireland, you can email them to me at email@example.com. Because I'm in a paintin' mood!