Wow… Hey. Hey me. How’s it going? You’re old. You know, you’re also not the person that I thought you would be. Yeah, there are a lot of cool things about you, but doesn’t it occur to you that you’re a little empty? Anyway. I know you’re working on it. Teddy was certainly a step in the right direction. So was going to back to school.

I do feel kind of empty sometimes. I feel like I can’t stop running after things. I can’t keep up. There’s so much. I think I’m happy. It’s hard to tell when I don’t slow down.

Every once in a while I think very deeply upon a matter. That’s when I start getting confused. And that’s when I stop thinking deeply.

I wish, just for ONCE, that there was no drama in this world. Just for a week or so. Yes, I’ll get bored and probably do something freakishly stupid, thereby causing the drama for next week. But I really need time to get my head together.

My hand is freaking killing me; I think I might have broken it. I did an impromptu 2-tile break tonight, and now it hurts to move my fingers. It’s not easy to type with one hand. But that was one of the most awesome breaks that I’ve ever done.
I also turned in the application for the Honors Program. Now I’m absolutely certain it wasn’t good enough. Who knows if I’m just freaking out unnecessarily or if my concern is actually legitimate.
Hate this hand.

I don’t really want to go back. I don’t want to go home and become an engineer and get married when I’m 25 and be stuck in the same place forever. I don’t care how comfortable it is. I really don’t know how to get out of it – except to do something completely drastic. I won’t say I don’t have any ideas, but I don’t think I’m that brave. It would really be so much easier to go back and do this. I’d pretty much have an assured future.
I wonder if maybe I don’t want a home.

This is so weird. I’m in ____, living with Sean and his roommate David. And I like it. I kind of feel like a bachelor now. And, YES, I know the technical term is bachelorette, but I HATE that word.
I feel like a mess. Yeah, I get it, I just went through my first year of college with incredible grades, but I really have no idea what I want to do next. And certain other aspects of my life are just wearing me down. Curse you, Sean. Your thinking habit is rubbing off.
GAAHH!!!! NO THINKING!!!!!
I love grapes!!! But rats, I’m out. I just read a great book – Empress, by Shan Sa. A bit disturbing in places though. Makes you wonder if Shan Sa cringed at all while she was writing it.
I miss home. I think I want to write though for now. I finally have time – and inclination – to write. Last night – or maybe it was the night before – Sean said that just once, he wanted to see someone who didn’t have “hanging out with friends” listed among their favorite things to do. Naturally, I could hardly oblige him. I miss my friends. A lot. It hasn’t even been a week. I think physical distance changes things a bit.
I’m listening to Pat Benatar. I think that’s a bad idea. It reminds me a bit of the Bad Days. And the bad days were bad indeed.
There. That’s much better. No, you would laugh if I told you what I’m listening to now. And I don’t feel like being laughed at right now. Give me another 27 seconds.

Man, it was so good to see Sean again. And tomorrow I’m going to move in. WOWWWWWW. Little Bridget growing up!
I need to find my specialty. So many people I know have one already. For my dad, it’s computers. For Kevin, it’s knives. For another guy I know it’s history and travel. Now, I like history, travel, computers, and knives. Ask anyone I know. But I don’t have a specialty. Nothing I’m really passionate about. Except thunderstorms. And what good will something like that do? That’s why I don’t count it as a specialty. Oh well. I’ll figure it out. Right? I hate it when people say I have years to figure this stuff out. What if I don’t?
My mom is kind of upset over me leaving. She got really mad this morning because I wanted to stop by Kevin’s and say goodbye. Said I was selfish and all that jazz. She got over it pretty fast though, once we got home and started loading up the vehicle. And then – what do you know? – Kevin pulls into my driveway with Leah and Devon. I knew he was coming, but I didn’t know he was bringing the rest of them. I could have kissed every one of them. Even Devon, who messes with my hair and thinks I’m a little kid. It was a little like the time Kevin came to my black belt test with two of his cousins.
Crap. I won’t see them much this summer, if at all. OWWWW. Those guys are my best friends.

I mean, seriously, what kind of job am I going to be doing that requires this? I get why we do the word problems and all that, but do I really want to find the death count of an earthquake disaster in one city compared to another, when the ratio is this to that and it’s divisible by this number? Sheesh. Getting kind of morbid, aren’t we?

That was me (talking about algebra) a couple of years ago. And now I’m in calculus.

For some reason, it’s always when I should be doing homework that I want to write, read, or blog. I wonder if this is natural for humans or if it’s just another of the many manifestations of my… oh blast… there IS a word for it… but I can’t remember it right now… GAAH!!!!!
ANYWAY, back to the point. Which is that I want to blog. Oh, I’m at school, BTW. In one of the computer labs. I wonder if people can see what I’m writing. STOP LOOKING, PEOPLE!!!
Oh, never mind, the only person who’s behind me is too short to see above her (his?) computer. Now I feel silly.
My back is KILLING me. And so are my legs. Why is myself killing me??? What have I ever done to it? Well, besides feed it junk food, put it through torturous weight lifting routines, and force it to undergo ruthless tests of agility. And deprive it of sleep. NEVERTHELESS, it’s got no business killing me. And I can’t even kill it to get back at it.
Blast, I wish it was 2:30. 2:30 is such a nice time on these sorts of days. It means SCHOOL’S OUT FOR EVERYBODY AND MY BEST FRIEND CAN COME AND PICK ME UP AND SAVE ME FROM THIS DIABOLICAL NEST OF GENIUSES!!!! Perhaps he will be late. What then?
Silly Bridget. You know what then. Your mind shall be instantly taken over by erroneous beings carrying light sabers and popsicles. So you had better hope with all your cells that he shows up on time.
Note to self: look up the meaning of the word, “erroneous.”
Now I want to talk about the 202nd Panzer division. Was there a 202nd Panzer division? I don’t know. I kind of hope so, because otherwise I’ll be talking about nothing. But I kind of hope not, because if there is, I know nothing about it, and in the process of writing absolute lies about it I will be sure to be picked up not by my best friend but by some sort of organization devoted to eradicating (YES, I know what that word means) all people who tell absolute lies about their beloved 202nd Panzer division.
Oh, goodness. Kevin, pick me up soon. This is rapidly going downhill.
Why can’t I write stories as well I as I can write brainlessness and insanity?
AHA! I have discovered the answer! To write stories takes genius! To write about stupidity does not! Therefore, since I can write about stupidity but not about the lives of fictional people, I…
Never mind. That cannot be the answer.

Blegh. This week has NOT been the best in my life.
Why not, Bridget?
Why not? You are why not. You and your incessant thinking – or lack thereof, in the matter of the D+ – are ruining my life.
I can’t believe you’re blaming me for that grade! You are the one who should have studied more!
Really? I thought I was just the innocent observer. Duh, I should have studied more. But you weren’t exactly cooperative that night.
And what about what you said that night?
What night?
You know darn well what night.
Did you just stoop to using a curse word?
In fact, you were pretty much a bitch that entire day.
Okay, I get it. Shut up.
Don’t tell me, tell him.
Tell him to shut up?
NO! Tell him that you get it that you were a bitch.
I think that he gets it.
Tell him that you get it.
I don’t think he wants to hear it again.
No wonder; the way you act, I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wants to hear anything from you again.
Hey, I’ve talked to him since and he didn’t seem mad.
Things aren’t right and you know it.
Go away. You’re not helping. Just go away.
It’s good for everyone that you’re leaving this summer.
Okay, THAT is CROSSING THE LINE!!! GET THE **** OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!
Both of you just SHUT UP!!! I’m trying to sleep! And would one of you mind shutting the blinds?