September 7, 1998

It's not that I hate the school. No, that's not it at all. I make fun of it a lot because there are a lot of things about it that one can make fun of. The things I like about it I can sum up in one paragraph. The teachers are nice, all my friends go there, it has a good music department, and the technology is sufficient enough for my needs, which aren't that demanding. When you compare me to most of the other students, I'll come out somewhere on top. For me, the aspiring young girl who wants nothing more than to get out of this town, this outcome is great.

There, that's it. That's why I can stomach getting up and going to school 183 days out of the year.

My first week was semi-exhausting. I'm a sophomore now, and I've decided that all that really means is that by now I'm expected to know everything there is to know about the school, and if I dare make a mistake, it's my ass. I should be used to everything by now, because I had all of a year to get into the swing of things when I was a freshperson. I don't have that big of a problem with this, partially because I'm definitely in the swing of things already, but mostly because I haven't had time to think about anything but homework all week. Every night I've been a victim to 4-6 hours of answering questions, taking notes on review material, and writing essays. Every night I went to bed around 11:30, and every morning I jumped out of bed at six, forcing my eyes open so I could get downstairs and do it all over again.

This schedule was fine for last week, but I'm wondering about how well I'm going to keep it over the year. You have to admit, less than six and half hours of sleep a night isn't healthy for anyone, least of all for a student with four honors classes to be attentive in the next day. Plus, add on the up-keep of this place (don't hate me if I miss a week of entries, please), my yearning to be a banjo extrodinaire, the need for some form of a social life on weekends, and anything my family wishes to pile on top of that, and you've got a very hectic Ms. Rose. I've already been told that after first semester finals, my brain with short circuit and I'll become one of those people in white robes that do nothing but eat apple sauce all day. I hope not; I think apple sauce is the most disgusting food ever created (who's sitting around one day, bored, and suddenly decides to smash apples into a chunky sauce? it's not even a creative name).

So. Am I prepared? Yeah, sure, why not. Do I want this added burden? No, not really, but the challenge does bring a certain competitive glint to my eye. Will I ever talk to you about school again? No, I'll try not to. The closest I'll get to mentioning the place would be if I decide to talk about the dances, which might not even happen, so don't get your hopes up.

I feel bad about this entry. I've neglected this place for more than a week, and now that I'm finally updating, I can't even fill a decent page? Ugh. How terrible is that? I wouldn't blame you if you ditched this section right now and went straight back to the home page. Actually, I'd encourage it, because this is the end of my weekly babble, and chances are you haven't played my all new, totally cool Game of Ob! (I thought it was a good idea, I have no idea what's with the rest of you........maybe if I offered bribes.....yeah.....) I'll love you forever if you answer the questions. (there, that should do it........yep, the responses will just come pouring in.......hmmm.....)