but would you kiss your mother with that mouth?

... i really like that statement.
i think i'm gonna use it as a story title,
once my lazy ass gets around to actually posting another story.
so i'm basically just really bored,
and i can't sleep, and i can't write, and i can't read,
'cause i'm getting distracted pretty easily right now.
i've just got a million and one things running through my head.
i'm apparently going for coffee tomorrow with a guy i've met once, on a fluke, and i don't even like him, really.
and i'm still hung up on my douche-bag ex,
who, apparently things are okay with, again, though i've talked to him a grand total of, like, three times since the day after christmas.
which was when he got mad at me for buying belt buckle.
yes, you read that right, a belt-buckle.
long story short,
i called him a pansy and he didn't talk to me for two weeks.
but i still wear the belt buckle.
haha.
and school is back in full swing, and totally kicking my ass.
i don't know how i'm going to keep up.
ive got a whole book report and all the research to do for my theology report,
and exactly three days to do them.
one of which, i'm going on this "date" that i don't want to be on,
and another i'm going to a local show.
ironically enough, the guy i don't like is coming, too.
me and my big mouth.
i have to get my wisdom teeth pulled at the end of the month.
and i have to get signed up for the ACT's, which, apparently, i'm taking in april.
i have yet to decide whether i am going to take the writing portion or not.
i think i will,
'cause i want to apply to NYU, so it will look good.
hopfully.
and there's a whole other source of stress.
in less than ten months, i have to turn in a college application.
and that makes me really excited and really fucking scared at the same time.
i wanna go off to college and grow up and have a career and a life,
but i wanna stay sixteen forever at the same time.
i'm so scared that i won't get into NYU.
i mean,
it's fucking NYU.
it's not community college,
it's not the local state university;
it's NY-fuckingU.
i mean.
i hope to hell i'm not getting in over my head with this.
i'm so scared.
i just want to go to sleep for a while,
and wake up twenty-one, with a bachelors in the fine arts for live sound or music recording, or both,
and just have a great job, in the city somewhere,
and just.
i want so much,
and i think i'm willing to work for it,
but i'm so god damned scared that i'm gonna fail.
so scared.
like, you have no idea.
it makes me want to just cry. like, i seriously just want to crawl under my covers and cry.
when did i turn sixteen? when did i get my liscence? when did i become a junior, and a straight-a, 3.74GPA, AP and honors classes, hardcore student?
what the hell?
can't i just go back to the simplicity of, like, the second grade,
when i could read books all day, and boys still had cooties, and it was okay for girls to climb trees and not brush their hair,
and we didnt' have to worry about shaving our legs, having our periods, or breakouts,
and pizza and ice cream was suitable for each and every meal, without worrying about gaining a pound.
god.
i hate growing up.
but i love it at the same time.
i just need, like, some kind of stress relief.
so that this knot growing in and around my stomach [possibly my stomach in and of itself]
can disentangle itself and relax.
and i can think of a few things, two of which would be really bad for track season.
and my general health.
the other being running. running and working out. which is perfect for track season.
so i guess i just have to throw myself into it, heart and soul.
but that's hard for me to do,
'cause i'm one of the upperclassmen on stage crew, and a techie, so that means that i have to be at most, if not all, of the cast rehersals so that i can run the tech end of it for them.
so that's gonna be taking up a shit load of my time.
there goes pre-season running, along with most of my grades.
shit.
i'm so.
ugh.
i don't even know.
and, to top it off, i'm, totally spacing in all of my classes.
i don't pay attention,
don't take notes.
instead i write, or read.
which is dandy, except i'm gonna, like, fail.
i need some comfort.
and not in the form of ice cream and soppy movies [which now just make me depressed and miss him, not to mention pissed off at the unusually happy/almost impossible couples.]
and not in the form of a good cheesy romance novel [which rarely does anything different than the soppy movies].
maybe, just...
i don't even know.
i just need a guy who's willing to listen to me blabber, so that i don't end up posting my rantings all over mibba and myspace.
hah.
figures.

[oh, the irony.]

peace, love, and skittles.
xxlindz