Friday, April 20, 2007

Stuff I was bored about last night...

Written: 4/19/2007
Start time: 9:53 PM

My head is a spinning cavern of thoughts right now and perhaps writing about them will get them out so I can sleep easier.

Prom is May 5th. I'm not going. It's going to suck. I think all proms do. My sister hated prom. Becca hated prom. I'm going to hate prom because I hate my school, not necessarily the school (although most of the time, this is true), but the people at the school who aren't my intermediate friends. Today I revealed the plan I made 3rd block to Angela 3rd block. My plan: to get clearance to use to mom's car to go get Angela and Jessica (possibly, because I talked to her about it and she said she wants to) and take them somewhere, like dinner or something, dressed up. I told them, "We should dress up, you know, in dresses? Tuxedo for Angela." And she smiled with a laugh and said, "Hell yes" or something along those lines.


I feel like I'm neglecting Jason. I've been spending a lot of time with Abby recently, but that's just because she's only in 3rd block every now and then because she can only skip her real 3rd block every now and then to get into my 3rd block. Abby introduced me to Lucus as her wife. It doesn't bother me, even though she may love me for real, you know, in that girl-loves-girl kind of way. Not just platonic love. I don't care anymore. I'm not a homophobe (my best friend is gay, for chrissakes), and I don't care if anyone wants to think that I'm gay. I'm not, I know I'm not, and that's all that matters. I think that comes with that new confidence I woke up with one day. I don't care about what someone says about what I'm wearing, or what I say, or what I do. I just wear it, say it, do it. I don't care, and it's a lot of fun that way.

Angela (my wisband (self made word combined "wife" and "husband" because she's such a dude) kept hitting me on the ass today. I think the count reached six times. And then we punched each other's knuckles for a few minutes. I said, "You're in a fighting mood today, aren't you?" and she said, "Yup." with that "giggle" laugh of hers. It's not really a giggle because Angela doesn't really giggle, but it was close.

Next week is Senior Week, which mostly means Senior "I get to hang out with my friends for seven hours everyday for five days straight" Week. Yay.

It's at times like these that I wish Caleb were here so I could go pretend to like coffee for an hour. But, as odd as this sounds, I actually wish Jose were here. God, I barely know this guy I've never met from the other side of the country, but I'm pretty sure I think about him more than I should. Maybe it's the fact that he's awesome. Maybe it's the fact that he's constantly bringing up my "relationship thingamabob" and how it's working out for me. Maybe it's the fact that I'm just bored with my surroundings and he brings something fresh to the mix.

I just want to wake up 23 and married with our kid(s) watching TV in the living room. Hopefully in Germany.

I've said this before. I want to have a little German baby. It'll be 75% German blood because its father will be 100% German and I'm 50% German. But, in reality, it'll be 100% German because it'll be born in Germany, maybe in Mona's little village of Langerringen. Then it will be a Bavarian baby. Ha. It will learn German with a Bavarian accent, and Mona can be its godmother. And I’ll fly home on holidays and during the summer (because I’ll be teaching English classes in the German school, or perhaps World History as I’ll be teaching here), so it can speak it’s second language, English, to my parents… with a Bavarian German accent, of course.

But, the way things are turning out, I'll marry a typical American guy and have a typical American baby who will grow up to hate the current president of its teenage years and wish to be in a foreign country just as much as I wish I were right now.

Man, I really could use some sleep.

Sincerely, Susan, who is currently contemplating on how this could be turned into my next great work: “Why I Hate George W. Bush, and other stories from the American-born German, Book 1”

(Sorry I went over my 1 page limit)
Finish time: 10:27 (counting all time spent daydreaming and messing with a hangnail on my thumb)



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