be blew me off in a heart felt letter

the moment I started caring became the moment I stopped. Don't get me wrong, I'm curious but its funny how things happen like that. I appreciate rain a little more after last night. Just a little. I wonder how many times I'm going to have to have either of those conversations in my life. the first, probably just once. the second, every single day until January tenth. a month.
Something doesn't fit though.

how much? perhaps $27.

i hate selling myself.
that seems to be the main thing on my agenda lately.

TO DO:

college apps
sell yourself
honesty
fire √
tea √
yellow legal pad √
christmas shopping
outline for english

well... did you?

I'm sending in my post secret this weekend. 

and by the time I send it in I think I'll have my answer.... 

24vomit00

its funny how many lies I tell myself. Me not realizing how much it means to me until now freaks me out.
but some how, my yellow legal pad remains blank.
some have had eighty thousand drafts molded and crafted by five different sets of hands.
some pay hundreds of dollars to see a certain number on a website that they could hold over everyone like some numerical trophy.
some have known where they were suppose to be since they were six.
some had that fact decided for them by the last name attached to them.
some are athletically pleasing whether they can make a coherent sentence or not.

but its different for the majority of us.
it makes me laugh to think that i have held a television show in such high regard for years until i saw the flaw: now that I'm immersed in the process it becomes harder and harder to be happy for the people that have it handed to them.
Its fantastic to be impossibly good at the worst thing about adolescence but it also makes it horribly unfair. they are the people that will be our generations leaders, but will they actually be able to think for themselves? some, of course. it seems for most to be simply regurgitation. memorizing facts and waving goodbye as they leave your system.
digest.
i want somewhere to take me that lets me digest.
and that is where I'll end up.



right?

list. a bit late.

one: No math this year.

two: My nonchalant feeling about college acceptance. I'll get in where I'm suppose to get in.
three: finally feeling like the work paid off.
four: watching the amount of movies we're watching in art history
five: its totally been a year.
six: funny pentagons.
seven: a level head.
eight: special agent oso.
nine: second chances when I haven't earned them.
ten: second chances when you have earned them.
eleven: kittens inspired by kittens.
twelve: scoodaleedoo in my boobsnatch. to the max.
thirteen: ted, marshall, and barney.
fourteen: apples.
fifteen: lunches at 473.
sixteen: black sheep.
seventeen: the interest in sports that I lack.
eighteen: stubbornness.
nineteen: heres to you being okay...?
twenty: wine tasting.
twenty-one: the idea of france. even if it doesn't happen.
twenty-two: fire pits.
twenty-three: "Why did the fork talk to the spoon? So they could be friends"
twenty-four: starwars tshirt.
twenty-five: the next five months.
twenty-six: four.
twenty-seven: the best people I could ask for.

three hungry males.

my fictional sons made be cry harder last night than anything has in a long time. which is weird. but kinda awesome. this all just solidified the fact that I'm suppose to do this.

eeeeeeeevvvvvaaaaa

its all beginning to sink in. this is why this is my favorite part. the moment when being you is the same being them. when it clicks.
the next step is getting it to click for them.

but c'mon.
after this, that'll be a piece of funfetti cake.