29.8.09, Saturday.

Will I lose my dignity?

Will someone care?

Will I wake tomorrow

from this nightmare?

28.8.09, Friday.

Secret Life and writing papers.

Late night haircuts.

Even later homework.

Overslept today...

...oops.

Tons of Oreos+diet coke+hxc dance parties in the Sculpture studio=vomit.

Debit card no longer in limbo!

26.8.09, Wednesday.

164.5

Headache.

Too much homework.

Please just leave me alone...

Exhaustion.

Why can't this be easier?

25.8.09, Tuesday.

I lost two pounds!

Nothing could lift me from my good mood today.

Except:

Wire sculpture.

Creepy boys.

If I pull away from your hugs, it means I don't like you.

(Take a hint.)

Hall clean-up.

Headaches.

Chemistry tests.

Being broke.

24.8.09, Monday.

I have a love/hate realtionship with Mondays.

Good monday schedule, but I also associate Mondays with, well, shit.

Watched "Helvetica" in Graphic Design.

Fell asleep.

Skipped dinner...

(yay for self control.)

Debit card still in limbo.

Please send money.

No more Drain-O needed, thanks.

Mix-tape to look forward to!

Another open studio tomorrow...

gag.

23.8.09, Sunday.

Cake and pie....

Freak out, freak out, freak out.

I really want an Afghan Hound.

And a pet duck.

Pubelicks brand diet soda

'cause you're too broke to buy Diet Coke.

I have one dollar.

Please send money...

and Drain-O.

Happiness:

Finding comfort and peace in

knowing that love is out there,

even if it's

miles and miles and miles

away.

22.8.09, Saturday.

First week.

Tired.

Laundromat adventure!

I miss my dogs.

Forgot to sign in.

...oops.

Jealous of the dancers.

Manhunt and sardines.

Sweating.

Freezing.

Having a good time so far.

21.8.09, Friday.

Broken toilet.

Please send more Drain-O.

I fell in love with blind contour.

No need to worry about how it looks.

It's gonna suck no matter what.

Potato salad for dinner...

Freak out, freak out, freak out.

356.

20.8.09, Thursday.

Today is a very boring, very lonely day.

Friends all went out without me.

I guess they just forgot to ask.

So I sat in my dorm.

For a long time.

Watched my roomate come and go,

listened to her tell me about all the things she was doing.

And then she left again.

And I sat.

And rotted some more.

19.8.09, Wednesday.

Broken shower.

Please send Drain-O.

Ice Cream isn't friendly.

Freak out, freak out, freak out.

Will everything be OK?

Who knows?

18.8.09, Wednesday.

Monologue night is lonely when you're not an actor.

And your roomate and suitemates are.

Sometimes I look at the moon and wonder if you're looking back.

Looking at me.

17.8.09, Monday.

First day of school jitters.
Free first period.

What I do whilst in my dorm:

Eat, eat, eat.

Get fat.

Met my track today. Really fun group of people.

15.8.09, Saturday.

This room almost looks like two people live here now.

Ice Cream Social: forced intermingling of new students; just another excuse to have ice cream.

Been here four hours and have already demagnetized my dorm pass.

Funny teachers.

Way too much diet coke.

Still haven't done my summer reading.

...Oops.

14.8.09, Friday.

One day till move-in.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

Busy day today. Very, very busy.

Pack, unpack, repack. Ugh.

Packing sucks so bad.

Saying goodbye is even worse the second time around.

And so is barfing.

Double Apple is no longer so delicious.

Going-away presents are pretty awesome though.

Chocolat

Chocolate

Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus

Sagardo Corazon and Virgen de Guadalupe candles

Orbit gum

Ice Spiders

Posters

Photos

French Grocery Lists

13.8.09, Thursay.

Struggle.

Struggle.

Saying goodbye is never fun.

Especially when the person you want to see most can't be there.

Double Apple is delicious.

What a beautiful mess we're in.

12.8.09, Wednesday.

I'm a morning person; you're not.

I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast.

You're a jerk!

I know.

Laundry is my worst enemy.

Fried food is going to be the death of me, along with Taco Bell.

Harry Potter is better the second time around.

11.8.09, Tuesday.

I would absolutely love to have a retarded cat.

9.8.09, Sunday.

Margaret has purple hands and empty pockets.

Someone comments: "Welcome to the next six years of our lives!"

We start here, on this Sunday night. A week away from the rest of my life away. Away from family; away from friends.

A new adventure is waiting a week in front of me, a whole new life.