Bikini Kill is for...

Complete the sentence. I like Bikini Kill, and no, I am not gay. I feel the need to say that. I was just listening to them, first time I listened to them since the summer, them and Taking Back Sunday. I put them on the same CD. Weird couple. I also put AFI and Actionslacks on it. And this weak TrustCompany track back when I think they were 41Down. I think. Or something like that.

Yes, I finally got the scheduling sheet. So I think I'm positive on my schedule next year. Five classes. 0 period Govt/Econ. Here it is:
--Humanities
--Govt/Econ
--Physiology
--Guitar 1
--Art History AP
Hopefully I'll be out of school by lunch next year.

Last night, since I had no homework and there is nothing on TV on Wednesday nights except for Ed, I was reading some of my old, unfinished stories. How pitiful I was. Really, my stories were DUMB. Hella dumb. And what's worse is that I thought they were good at the time I was writing them. They aren't original at all. Its like I combined all these plots from movies and other books into one big ugly plot. I am so dumb. Before I pass, I just want to write a short story. A good one. It doesn't even have to be long. It can be 40 pages or whatever, but good. I was thinking this morning while I was getting ready that I guess I write well, so to grow up and not write is to waste something. I don't want to give that up. I've given a lot of things up in life, and this is the one thing that people actually think I'm good at, and I'll admit, I think I'm okay too.

But then I thought about something else. Three years ago, I went to my Uncle's house, because they had this psychic-lady over. They invited everyone. They were taking turns, there was a line of people awaiting knowledge of their destinies. Because she claimed she had spiritual powers. She claimed she could make things happen. And things happened. Really. That's what worries me. So my grandpa, one of my favorite people in the world, tells me to go up there. At first, I'm hesitant. "No," I say, "Later." But they insist, he and my grandma. What can I do? So I go up with my grandma. She says some stuff. The psychic-lady blessed me. I forget exactly what she said, and right now, I'm thinking that's suspicious. At this very moment, I'm thinking that there is a reason I forgot and this is like a movie. Eh. Anyway, so I go up there and its like she's granting me wishes. She says, "What do you want to be when you grow up." I hesitate, because I want to say "I want to be a Journalist." because at that time, I thought I was the best writer in the world, but my grandma decides to intervene and says, "She wants to be a nurse." The psychic-lady says, "Okay, you will be a nurse." I wince. "No!" I scream under my breath, in my head, and my joints buckle. Shit, I didn't want to be a nurse. So now, I'm freaked out, including in my prayers at night, that this one time, this psychic-lady can be wrong. I don't want to do that. I want to do something that I can look forward to doing most of my life.

PS the return of the Elizabeth Smart girl has reaffirmed my belief in God. I remember around the time she went missing, I was questioning. I thought, "God, you pick these children to die." And then she disappeared and I thought, "God, if you're there, why would you let this one go? [not that there was really anything special about her, but she was the one I saw on the news that night] If you exist, find her and return her to her family." Because my letters to God always seem like business letters, in which I am the peasant. So I forgot about that until I got home from Powderpuff practice yesterday. turned on the TV, changed three channels from MTV, and saw that she was back home and alive. I still don't understand why these innocent children are chosen to be taken from their families, and its really depressing. Its like, why do you choose this new life? Why would you let these things happen? All these things happen and we're supposed to fix it. I was watching Third Watch the other night, and one character said something like "If God exists, how do all these things happen? How can you still believe in God after all the things we see?" and the other character responds, "That's not the question. Its, 'How can you still believe in man?'" and I was like, "Damn that's spiffy." So he's right. Somehow, God becomes the scapegoat because people cannot except responsibility for the consequences of their actions, and people trick themselves into believing this until it has consumed them. This is so SEVENTH HEAVEN.