One-Man Band?

Ex Ed was fun. I guess. My arms hurt and I burned my nose and my left ear, but it wasn't too bad. Oona burned her face, Amanda developed dreadlocks, and Rachel got so sick that she started saying things like "Oh, man, it's, like, zero degrees below freezing right now." Amanda got busted smoking behind the shithole and Deanna told me, slyly, to write an editorial about the trip. The only guys on the trip were Andrew and Jeff Then, and the other girls were Molly, Paula and Alicia, so the fact that we all looked, smelled and felt like shit didn't really matter. We were all in the same boat, so to speak. Still, the nature was truly beautiful, and so was sleeping in a pile in the sunlight and being the last tent to wake up and staying up later than anyone else. I discovered that I hate being called "kiddo" and that Jack is a little bit like my dad. Oona made fun of me (in a loving way) for singing Joan Baez songs all the time and reading a lot, and it was funny because it was true. Sigh.

I also FINALLY finished Missing Angel Juan. I'd read all the other Weetzie Bat books, but it was the last one I got to, and Jack Robbins teased me so much about reading it (he quoted a passage in which My Secret Agent Lover Man and Weetzie Bat's names came up to the entire fifth grade classroom and they all laughed) that I put it away in shame and and never finished it. All it did was make me miss Harry, but it was a wonderful book anyway. The thing about her writing is that it's so simplistic and so rich that you can't help but read your own previosly-held emotions into it. I read all five of the books in the series that week. Over those three days, actually. I still identify most with Witch Baby. I think I can appreciate them much more now that I'm a little older (five years!) and have had time to experience a lot of emotions. I know I'm riddled with complexes, but I've lived a lot and understand a lot now.

OK, I wrote that yesterday but I got cut off because my parents are college nazis. I think I was about to start making a list of life-experiences I've had, but that's pretentious so I won't.

Yeah... I'm applying for a bunch of summer programs. Four total, at three different universities. I don't think I'll get into all of them, but I think I'll get two or three, and I'll be able to stay in the city and write a bit instead of being ushered around the country so often that I forget who I am all over again. I'll get to see Harry and make friends with the box-office guys at Irving Plaza again and drink cheap coffee and write.

As soon as I got back, I took a shower and headed over to Harry's house for a sweet Italian dinner. We ended up missing Matt's party (I'm sorry!) and the next day we ambled through SoHo and split a milkshake at Johnny Rocket's in a pale mockery of the Pulp Fiction scene.

Blogger rocks. A lot of people that I know don't like blogs, and a few of them have been telling my parents how they feel, so I'm officially banned until after finals. It's obviously having no effect on me, though, because Harry showed me how to install four different screens on my computer for different programs.

I feel like I ought to blog but I have nothing to write. I'm busy trying to write my Letter from the Editor and apologize to Elena for having to hang up on her because of my parents while still appearing to do homework. Grrr.

The more my perceptions of people change, the more I find myself realizing how very little you can really tell about a person from a first impression. This leads me to the conclusion that unless we labor to clear our own names, we will all be grossly misunderstood. Although time seems to fix that a bit as we get to know each other.

Wow. This was a terrible post. I'll write a better one later to cover this up.

Random question, 'cause I'm bored and I want to know:
If I were an animal, what do you think I would be?
What would you be?