Life Long Dream/Nightmare

I am officially part of the Band of the Fighting Irish and I couldn't be more excited. Getting out of high school's intense schedule and musical emphasis to play in a band with an intense schedule, musical emphasis, and better perks. Oh boy.

Needless to say I'm now a little upset.

Watching a movie with my roommate on Spike.

"I was not elected ruler to watch my people die while you discuss this in a co-mmit-tee."

The Same, Really

It's crazy how wherever you go, the same type of people exist in the same roles they did from wherever you left. Trombone players up here? Exactly like they were down south. It's incredible. I'm not saying whether that's good or bad. It's just amazing to me.

Update from the dorm...

UPDATE!

From inside my dorm room!

Dream School here I come

When I applied to Notre Dame, I knew I wouldn't get in. It wasn't because I was trying to be pleasantly surprised if I was accepted, it was because I'm not Notre Dame material. When I got wait-listed at Northwestern and the University of Chicago, I wasn't surprised and I knew that my rejection letter was on its way from Notre Dame. So after I was accepted I wasn't just surprised, I was actually kind of disappointed.

I knew that in going to this school I would have to work my ass off because everyone else who goes there is part god-alien/lizard/android/saint.

And now it's time to move in. I love that campus, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to confidently say I'm a student there.

Oh well. I'm coming now. They cannot stop me. Unless they tried.

My cat is crying.

The fat cat is outside of my door just pawing senselessly at it. Trying to get in that way because, unlike his wily brother, he never figured out how to open doors.

He's just yelling at me and throwing his paws into the door. I feel like my room is a castle under siege.

But it's a cat.

Crippling Laziness

Currently I should be packing for college. Something that is pretty important. But crippling laziness got to me first. It's so damn hard to pack when you don't know what all to pack too, or where it all should go. This is frustrating.

I need to stop posting these when I'm so tired.

I sound like an ass most of the time.

Day=Not that bad.

As I lay on my car outside the gates of Independence Park at 1:30 am I saw, for the first time in my life, a meteor so close to Earth that it lasted about two seconds and had an actual tail of red and yellow flame.

"I'm sorry for my tardiness

but I've been off saving the world. One broken heart at a time.

Oh. Who am I?

Mr. Right."

That's a pickup line I just made up. Right now. And you guys got front row seats to its inception. I'd feel honored, nay, blessed to have been here for the consummation of word and genius. I'm in one of my faux-cocky moods. And I have the right to be in one of those moods. I'm an American hero.

I feel like I just drank ten pangalactic gargleblasters. There's a stupid storm front moving through that's making my sinuses loco. I'm like Rita and the front is my Power Rangers. I'm throwing a shit ton of nerdy-ass references in here. Pardon my french. The filth's just popping out like the alien from Ash's stomach. It's the headache. And the lateness.

Read two issues of TIME today. Also watched Pan's Labyrinth and Harry Potter and the Half-Assed Script. I'm just playing. I actually really enjoyed HP6, the amount of detail is meticulous. It's quite impressive.

To all of you who got to attend various concerts this weekend, know that I am jealous and that I want nothing but smooth sailing for you on your ride down to hell. I'm kidding.

I want your ride to be bumpy.

Depressed and alone at work

Well, I'm not there any longer but that's where these ideas came from:

No job makes you feel more needed than being the projectionist for a movie theatre on a weeknight. Just try wasting all of that electricity for nobody and see how it makes you sleep at night.

Facebook is an incredibly bizarre thing. Any number of people will comment on the stupidest and most useless things... as long as they're short. If something gets above 200 characters, no matter how important it is it will not be read. It could be a suicide note or a last will and testament, but nobody would read it.*

* This last thought actually gave me an idea for a story about a group of friends who are tagged in a suicide note on facebook, but none of them try and stop the guy because they don't read the note because it's too long. And then the story would backtrack over the person's life JUST before the suicide and show how no one actually cares about him. Real upper.

Went to a party

where I was everyone's hero for being the only one in the pool. But no one was joining me. So I was everyone's hero for being out of place and lonely.

I must be a fucking superhero when I'm by myself at home then.

I'm reaching the point in life when I realize that people like me because I'm absolutely ridiculous. It's great to know that no one will ever take me seriously.

Actually I don't even know if that was sarcasm. I like being outlandish.