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The first week of school was wonderful. I'll admit, I expected myself to like this year better than all the others, but even so I am still in shock over how much I do. I really hope this feeling stays. I want to remember the last year fondly, no matter how unremarkable it may turn out to be.

On the other hand, it's only the first week and I already feel like I've been going to school for four months straight already. Guess the got it right when they decided on twelve years of school, ha ha.

By the way, I should be writing two college essay rough drafts and a "mathography", but let's just keep that under wraps for now.

I've been reading a lot a British s**t lately. I'm going to come to school one day and use some sort of British expression and not realize because I'm so damn used to reading them.

Yes, all my vocabulary comes from books. I actually see words when people speak to me. Not consciously, but I realized this about myself a few years ago. It's very calming in a way.

And I'm not weird no matter what you say.

So, I got to see everybody I didn't talk to all summer. It was very nice. I've always said I need a "hibernation period" where I just don't talk to people for a long period of time, but this has gotten marginally shorter over the last couple of years. I was ready to go back to school halfway through July this year to be honest. I like to think that's me progressing out of my social-phobic shell. The inner me that doesn't lie no matter if you ******** like it or not? Knows that it's just me becoming a more self-centered human being craving attention.

I'm considering being some sort of doctor. It just popped into my head unbidden on friday. I have never in my life, and that is not an exaggeration, considered being a doctor. Of course it crossed my mind at one point. It has to, when you're in kindergarten and the teacher tells you to write down what you want to be when you grow up and you have to filter through the, maybe ten, jobs that you think are an option when you're a child.

I kind of miss that. Believing that you're going to be a doctor, cook, scientist, firefighter, policeman, etc. as a child and not knowing that there are hundreds of thousand of job options you'll have to consider when you get older.

I hate this keyboard.

I like typing in time to the music that I'm listening to.

Wait, what was I talking about before? Oh, but yeah. It was just strange that for a few minutes in my life, I (semi)seriously considered going into the medical field.

But not as a nurse. Ugh. Not for me, no offense to nurses meant.

Anyway, it was strange. I don't remember where I was going with that, but it was. Aaaah, too many open documents! *burnout*

I have an awful feeling that this journal won't accomplish anything rambly, just random comments and apologies for not staying on a subject.

Now, to be contrary, as I have been all weekend, that will NOT be the case.

Sorry.

Did you know that there is Jon Stewart/Stephen Colbert slash? And it's a kind of a little bit hot? Oh, you didn't need to know that? I do apologize, but I was so giddy that it really existed that I just had to type it somewhere since I could never tell anyone in real life. At least not to their face. I'm looking at you Roxy. <3

And no, I didn't accidentally stumble upon it. Rule 32, my dears, has driven my sick curiosity for many a year now.

So far on my essays? One sentence... on one essay. Oh, this is going to delightful.

Random fact of the journal entry(because I always feel like I stick one in there):
I have an extreme not-thing for blondes.

Seriously. Blondes and me have had a problem since I was born. Blonds seem to naturally be nasty more often than any other hair color if you ask me. Oh, of course I have met many a sweet blond, my best friend is a blonde (HIROXYLOVE~ I actually love your hair, especially since you started growing it out), but generally? They tend to be assholes and/or creeps. Mostly and. Maybe it's just Californian blondes.

Plus, blondes have this horrible physical generalization, in my mind, where they either are rather, well, unpleasant to look at or have this completely fake look about them. And sorry, but if there is one thing in this world I hate, it's people who lie, fake, and steal. Especially when it comes to the big things.

God that was bitchy and shallow. I'm letting my journal get the best of me today.

I hasten to add that, like every rule, there are exceptions. And I am not only referring to you Roxyface. (I keep talking to you, hope you're not feeling too awkward!)

(s**t, now I have several subjects I wanna discuss. DAMN YOU CONTRARINESS)

Hoooo s**t, I almost didn't even get to the random reason I even started TALKING about blondes! I actually had to go back and add this! Ah! *smacksself*

This is going to involve slight fangirling. You do not approve? ******** off. Or, you know, just skip the next couple of paragraphs. I'm not picky really.

So I watch NCIS. A lot A ridiculous amount. A ******** ridiculous amount. Capslocked ridiculous. I love it more than any other show, I love the characters more than any others, and just, guh! It's such a brilliant show. But that's not what I want to go on about.

You know the character Ducky? The old ME who rambles hella much? Yeah, he's awesome. But, oh, about the second week I started watching NCIS my mom was looking and recognized him from an old show she used to watch. We looked him up on IMDB because she couldn't remember what it was called or whatever. I didn't pay much attention except for when she read that he's like 75 years old or something and I was completely "Holy s**t are you serious?!" Because dude! Yes he looks old, but I was willing to guess he was early sixties at most!

Goddamn, I just can't get to a point can I?

So about a week ago, about 3-4 months after looking about Mr David McCallum (for that is the man's name) I got curious about how he used to look when he was younger. Just one of those things that comes to mind and I acted on it. So I type in David McCallum and lucky me, the internet seems to only contain pictures of him in the days when my mom watched him 30 some odd years ago.

And my. Oh. My.

I can't tell you why, but when I looked at a picture of him... Well, the first thing that popped into my mind was either "Dayuuuum!" or an incoherent tiger growl of pleasure.

This is bordering on TMI, I told you you could skip it.

I don't know though! It really shouldn't appeal to me! He's blond (and I'm quite taken by his hair), his nose is not all that impressive (nose fetish, I have one), and he wears a turtleneck in one photo and damn if I don't like that best best on him.

(Next to a suit that is.)

******** you, don't judge. I didn't ask for infatuation with the 30-40 year old version of a 70 year old man. *pouts*

I remembered just now something I've been planning for a few weeks now to write a journal entry about. Yes, halfway through the entry and I'm only now just getting a real point going, shut your FACE.

Like you read me mention above? One thing I cannot stand is liars, fakers, and thieves. Especially when it comes to big things. I won't even dare to be pretentious and say I haven't dabbled in varying degrees of all three. Since it is myself I am talking about though, I will admit I have justified most of these instances in my mind or blamed the rest on human nature. (Part of which is selfishness, dontcha know)

When I lie, it usually only involves the little things. I'm not a very good liar on principle, though I have surprised myself a few times, and always haven't been. I hate being weaker than other people and this disadvantage is probably the root of my hate for liars and such. Little white lies, ones that do no real harm, I've never had a problem with. You're tired and don't want to go out? Say you have homework. Would rather not eat the steak your uncle cooked? Say you just ate and so on and so forth.

The bigger things on the other hand? I don't care WHY you're lying, the truth is always better and has to come out eventually. You don't say you've been somewhere, done something, unless you have. You're building a connection when you say these sorts of things or you're just bragging. Either way, it should ******** be real. You don't tell someone a blatantly false fact, especially if you can't keep up the facade. And you don't, you just ******** do NOT, tell someone you love them or even love them best, unless you mean it.

My own personal experience that stands out most for me (MY therapy dears, you aren't obligated to read it) is when I had a completely shitty day, one of the worst. I had been so emotionally and physically exhausted and bruised that day that I ended up breaking down in front of a friend for no real reason in the end. Well, there was a reason, but it was one of the stupid little things that just send you over the edge. And my friend, yeah, they were worried because I basically started sobbing in the hallway when we were okay just moments before. They tried to ask what was wrong, but we had to get to class and I told them to just drop it. The hugged me asked me to talk to them if I wanted to, (told them, I wouldn't, stop worrying) and sent me off.

After school they texted me a message saying "you'll get through this because you are a strong person" or something. Now, I didn't really believe IN the message, but I liked the person who sent it, trusted them as much as I trust most people, and really, it did make me feel better if only a smidge.

Next day, I had mostly gotten over my issues and I saw my friend again. We were fine the asked if I was doing any better and I said yeah, then thanked them for the message. Please don't judge me too harshly on this, this is the part I was getting to, but that's when the laughed a bit and said they knew how to make anyone feel better.

God, that's not the exact words, you might get it better then, but I swear I went cold at that. I nearly shoved the person away from me and called them an a*****e for telling me that, though I didn't. But... they had basically just told me they didn't even think about the message they sent me, just picked the first comforting crap that came to mind, even though THEY didn't even believe it and sent it.

And just... god, it pissed me off so much. I would rather a person told me I was weak, spineless, a big crybaby and actually MEAN it, than send me a meant-to-be comforting lie that didn't even think true. And now I... ********, it wiped all respect and trust I had for that person. I haven't trusted them since, I'm actually still friends with them. But let me tell you how ******** glad that I've never confided anything in them. I might never have gotten out of the slump I had that day if I had told them and they still treat me so carelessly.

s**t, I didn't explain this well at all. It all sound selfish and conceded in the end. Sorry about that.

*an hour passes*

I'm thinking about doing some sort of daily/weekly journal thing where I answer 5-10 questions. Not because I think anyone would be interested to read them, but because the things I've always loved best are the little memories you only remember twice after the fact, but are still so special you wish they;d be there forever.

Or maybe I'd just do 5-10 facts or memories a week.

Hell! It'll be a grab bag thing! Like I actually have enough will to choose anyway!

I'm feeling foolishly sentimental today. And last night. I blame Brad for being an a** that makes me enjoy his company no matter how much I don't want to. ******** made me spend the night then insulted my music taste. *ribs him*

Yeah, I should cut this off before I don't get any of my essays accomplished (which I haven't) and make this entry any worse (omg that's possible?!).

But, yeah, really. I kinda want to delete this. I won't though, because then I never have to talk about these subjects again. There.

I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take. When people run in circles it's a very, very... mad world

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