Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Versatile Blogger Award!

Dear Bloggie,

    I was checking my blog today, when I noticed I had gotten a comment last week. Clicking on it, it led me to Ema Winters blog, in which she awarded me Versatile Blogger Award!  I for one am very honored. You know what's funny about this all? I had actually read her blog post when she received the award, but had completely missed my name on her list of people she was awarding! Anyway, I will keep the rules if the award. 

The rules are simple:
  1. Thank and link back to the person(s) who bestowed the award
  2. Share seven things about yourself
  3. Pass the award to fifteen bloggers who are 'versatile'
  4. Inform the recipients are seven things about me(!):

  1. The first story I ever wrote (as far as I know) was written when I was somewhere between three and five. It's was never completed, but in short it was about a green skinned, orange haired, warty nosed witch, who was married to a pale, black caped, with black hair vampire. I never got past that point, but when I found it I was so surprised. I had completely forgotten that I always had a love for writing. I always assumed that it began when I started to love reading in fourth grade, but this story brought back memories of a little me telling my mom that I didn't need to read books in order to like writing. Of course now I realize that to be a good writer you have to read.
  2. I have attend three wonderful schools in my life. Before that I attended two Catholic schools. The first was Cedar Court School, which I attended since I was three, until it closed when I was in second grade. The second was saint Brigid School. I was there from third grade until last year, when I graduated from the middle school. Now I’m at The Greater Hartford Academy of the Arts. It’s like public school, but not exactly because you can’t just go there, you need to get into the lottery. I guess it’s a public school with a focus.
  3. I had an English teacher in sixth grade that had a Boston accent. Instead of saying “garbage”, she said “gaah-bage”. When we imitated her, we would say “That’s gaah-bage!”
  4. When I was three, one of my best friends was a boy named Antonio. We met in pre-school. Almost everyday we would play house -- extreme addition! We weren’t just normal parents, but instead super spies. Our baby (which was black baby doll, while he was Spanish and I’m a mixture of white and Latina; we had a very multi cultural family) was always being kidnapped so we had to go rescue it. After we went on our death-defying missions that included crossing shark/crock tanks, we would return home so I can make us dinner. Too bad in our second year of preschool (which was for three and four year olds, making us four) he started hanging out with boys and so our close friendships ended. When I was five I discovered that I had a crush on him, but by that time he was no longer attending my school and both of my best friends had started liking him too.
  5. I have two cats, a girl named Coco and a boy named Cinnamon. My mom and I call Coco Shredder because she shreds any paper you leave near her. Cinnamon used to pee on the floor, but thankfully he seems to have gotten over that.
  6. I love living in Connecticut even though our winters and summers seem to always go to the extremes. Our winters are bitter while our summers are smoldering. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
  7. I can be very, very, VERY shy around people I don’t know. If I’m in a room with no one I know, I can seriously sit there awkwardly and hope to become one with the wallpaper. Or die. One the other hand, when I’m comfortable around people, I can be overly outgoing. So outgoing that I can be embarrassing -- to both myself and others who know me. 

Now, I don't have 15 bloggers to give this award to (sadly), but I do have 14 bloggers who are versatile(!) :

Go follow these people above. NOW! Again, much thanks to Ema!


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Weekend Update With Me

Dear Bloggie,

    So my diet is going pretty well. I mean, except for this weekend. What happened was I had my junior leader meeting on Saturday. We had a photography class at U of H (University of Hartford) from 9am to about 1pm, then we all went to Six Flags for Fright Feast. One, Fright Feast was a BIG let-down (plus people were acting like idiots and I somehow managed to trip over a tiny rock and hurt my ankle -- I've been limping since Saturday night now-- which just made things crappier), and two, there is, like, no healthy food at Six Flags. The healthiest thing is a salad, which given that their only dressing choice that I would like with it is ranch, makes it not so healthy. I've been replacing ranch with French dressing, which is a lot less calories.

   In the end I ate a grilled chicken wrap -- it's lettuce with two strips of grilled chicken on top, ranch dressing for taste, though I guess I shouldn't have added the ranch. I already had a bagel with cream cheese and a bottle of Coke earlier. Basically, Saturday was a no diet day. Sunday wasn't much better because my mom surprised me by making buttermilk pancakes since I had mentioned a couple days before how I haven't had them in a long time. My initial reaction was to turn them down -- I'm quite proud of myself for that -- but I couldn't because she made them specially for me. Thankfully, I walked around A LOT at Six Flags, so I only feel half guilty.

   There is one things I want to add before I go. I was eating lunch with my group, when I looked over and saw this sad, lonely, old man. He was sitting there by himself, food resting in front of him as he peered off into the distance with a cheerless look on his face. It appeared as if he was waiting for someone. Wife, kids, grandkids? Who knows. We were in the eating area for over thirty minutes at least, and no one showed.

   I pointed this out to the girl I was sitting with, Annalise, and she, like me, got all sad. He just looked so freaking lonely. We wished we could just go over and talk to him. Of course we couldn't; for all we knew he could have been a perverted, pedophilic, rapist. We have no way of knowing.

  Still, I wish the world was just a good place filled with people who are just straight forward with their intentions, all of them being good intentions. In that world, Annalise and I could have gone over to him and talked, either keeping him company until his family/people he was waiting for showed up, or at least talking to him and finding out why he was by himself. Poor old man. This is a good reminder on why you should treat your grandparents nicely. Remember that.


Thursday, October 21, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

  I wish boys knew how much control over a girl's heart they have. I mean, I'm might be all feminist-y, but that doesn't mean I don't like guys and don't fall hard for them. As much as I STRONGLY DISLIKE Fergie, I find that my life is similar to her song "Clumsy". I mean, I'm never not liking. I always have some crush or another. The only thing is that I never truly get over someone either, I just start liking someone else. That doesn't mean I don't like the other person, it just means that they are no longer my main like. Please don't think this sounds shallow, I'm only 14 and a half; I don't even know myself, never mind my heart.

   All I know is that I like a guy. His name is Zach. He's the one I wrote the Crushing poem for.

I personally think he's hot, except for the little moustache that teen guys always  love to grow, just to prove that they can.

   According to his Facebook profile (I friended him), he's actually 15. He must have stayed back a year somewhere along the line, but whatever. He's both a musician (i.e. the guitar above) and an artist. I've seen some of his drawings, and wow, he's good. My dream guy can draw and play an instrument -- preferably the guitar and-or piano. I also wanted someone who could write me a poem, but two out of three ain't bad. And I'm only just getting to know him, maybe he can write.

   I really like him, but of course he has one problem; he's not over his ex-girlfriend. I mean, he really thinks she's the one. But she broke up with him over a rumour and left him heartbroken. As a friend, when she came up in conversation I of course was all "She'll come around, don't worry!" Inside though, I was dying a bit. I was telling the guy I liked that his ex will come around. I hate irony.

   I mean, for God's sake, she plays the trombone! No offensives to anyone who plays the trombone, but come on! The trombone is a disgusting instrument. Serena played it for a year and I remember there is a part of it that your spit get's caught in and that you have to drain. I'm losing to that!

    Being my stalk-ish self, I went on his page to see what his ex looked liked. After seeing this picture (and clicking on her profile and seeing that she plays the trombone), I've come to the conclusion this is her.

   Obviously he doesn't have anything against chunky girls which really works in my favour. At the same time, my self-esteem just went down. If she doesn't have the best personality EVER, I'm going to seriously cry. Not to be mean, but she's geeky! And she's not even prettier than me. Yeah, she's still skinnier than me, but take away my weight, and I am so prettier than her. I'm also funny and nice and I can be the best girlfriend ever! But he is totally still in love with her.

   If he only could see that while he's crazy for a girl who has moved on, he has a girl totally crazy for him. Grrrr, it's not fair! I was looking for a song that fit my mood when I found this. I put is as my Facebook status while he was online. Not that he would ever know it was geared towards him. These are my favorite lines, the ones I used for my status.

If you only knew that I think about you
In a kinda secret way
I say kind of 'cause well it's obvious
I must be feeling these things 
Too bad you can't tell 'cause 
If you only knew
It would be a dream come true
Standing next to you
And I might go insane to know
That you feel the same as I do
If you only knew...
~ "If You Only Knew" - Savannah Outen


Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Chanting Myself For Motivation

Dear Bloggie,

    I'm going to lose weight. I'm going to lose weight. I'm going to lose weight.

    I'm telling myself now, not just hoping. I'm tired of being fat. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and totally be comfortable with my body. I'm not saying I hate myself right now, no, I don't have that bad of a confidence, but I feel like my weight holds me back.

   Any ounce of shyness I have, resonates from my weight problem. I'm always scared that people are going to judge me for that and not for who I am. I mean, I'm crazy and can be a bitch (does that make me a crazy bitch? Have to sleep on that startling conclusion...) but I'm also crazy loyal too. Which is actually bit of a bad thing, as seem by anyone who has read about my friendships problems on this blog.

   The point being, if I were skinnier I would be more comfortable. If someone doesn't like me -- in a friendship and/or a romantic way -- I want it to be because, well, they don't like me. Not that they are all "She's that fat girl." No, I'm tired of that. 

   OK, to begin with weight lose is a lot easier said than done. According to internet/Doctor-y things, my weight should be between 127 to 141 is I'm average to medium framed, or 137 to 155 if I'm just big boned. I'm not sure which one I am seeing as the only time in my life that I was skinny to average was when I was a baby. By the time I hit two, I was already packing on the pounds. Still, when your two it's cute to be chunky. You have a Pooh belly, as my mother used to call it. When your 14, it's NOT cute AT ALL. 

    Taking this all into consideration, I've decided that my ideal weight is 130. That's how much I want to weigh. Considering what my weight is, I have a long way to go. I'm not going to say how much I exactly weigh, but to be happy enough with myself by my 16th birthday, I have to lose 100 pounds. Yes, you read that correctly. 

   The summer before seventh grade I was at camp with Serena and we were part of many programs. One of them was called Healthy Choices. That summer, I lost about 10 to 15 founds in six weeks. And that was with only exercising three or four days a week. If I work out from Monday to Thursday, when again on Saturday, I think I can meet my goal. 

   Of course I have to eat healthy too. I mean, I can work out for ten hours at the gym (I like treadmills, those bike things, and stair steppers, plus my mom's best friend and her daughter -- I've mentioned them before, my Aunt Cathy and Sam -- are thinking of joining a Zumba class, and they have invited me along), but if I eat stuff that is totally unhealthy for me, I might as well do nothing. I love salads, really I do. So that's a start. I also love cherries and green grapes. Now, if I could only eat  more of those foods and none of the foods that are fattening, then I can get somewhere. 

   Wish me luck. Tomorrow I officially start my diet. Let's hope it works. 


Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Laughing At Life

Dear Bloggie,

  I was checking Meg Cabot's blog before going to sleep when I read about a site (and book) called Mortified. It's a site (and book) compiled of pictures or diary entries written by people when they were younger about things that were embarrassing then, or are now to look back at. Check it out, it's extremely funny. What's even funnier is the readings they have up on YouTube. I seriously laughed until it hurt.

   With that in mind, I decided to look through my own diary to see if I had anything I could summit. I found two things, a poem about a former crush, and a diary entry from 5th grade about a girl I hated with a burning passion.  Let me tell you, what hurt and was dramatic back them, now is as funny as hell. I wrote the poem in 5th grade about my crush, and at the time, the man I was sure I would marry. Because, you know, it was true love. The whole soul mate thing. :)

Without further ado, I present my masterpiece (exactly how I wrote it on the page)

Basketball + cute
Really cute and funny
Ever so cute
Nothing but cute
Nice and cute
Always cute
Never not cute


  Yes, I was a master poet even back then. I'm not sure what I had in mind with the "B". I mean, what does basketball have to do with anything? I don't even like sports! Now, onto the diary entry. The beginning is about a serious thing, but by the end, trust me, it's just...EHHH! Just read. :)

(Again, I'm coping everything off the page -- thoughts, misspellings, and all. Enjoy.)
                                             EVIL = Megan
                             4/15/07                            4/16/07
                           11:24 p.m.                         12:15a.m.

Dear Dee,
   On Saturday Zach B's dad dies. I found out on Monday 4/9/07. Sam, Brandon, Tia Cathy, my Mommy, and I whent to the wake. When we got there we saw EVIL. Sam and EVIL whent to hang out in a romm. EVIL hates me and I hate EVIL. Well, me and EVIL got into a fight and she called me names. I steped on her foot and I told her when we die I will de in the list that says that that pearson might go to heaven or might go to hell and she be in the begining of the list for hell and whe sh dies she will go to the front of the line.  Think she will become the Devels Queen there and he will tell Jack the Ripper (Side note: At the time I didn't really know who Jack the Ripper was. All I knew was  that he had killed people and wasal together considered a bad person bad.) that whan he did had the same amount of evil in one of EVIL'S finger. Sam told me that she thought I was unforgiving and that I had a stone cold heart. Me and Sam made up later at Stop and Shop. I really hate Megan = EVIL. You would  too. The six graders thin she is dumb. The fith graders thinks she is dumb! 
                                                                                         (My Name)
   Obviously I didn't like Megan (and that my spelling and grammar skills were atrocious). Though I guess stepping on her foot and saying she's the Devil's Queen (not to mention the thing about her having more evil in a finger, than Jack the Ripper possessed in his whole body) was a bit over dramatic....? Nah, if you knew Megan you would know I wasn't far from the mark.  

  She was always a bitch to me and truthfully, she treated my cousin Sam like crap. I never understood how Sam put up with it. Still, if I ever argued with her or stood up for Sam, Sam would always take her side. These scenarios were my inspiration for Missy in C.O.A.O.P. and how she is treated like crap by Sabrina (girl who is mean to Angela in the beginning of the novel, during the shopping scene) but still chooses her over Angela because she's desperate for her friendship, whatever the coast. 

   So now it's late and I have shared with you an embarrassing antidote, so I'm going to bed. I'm definitely post more entries when I get the chance. Goodnight. 


P.S. I just realized this is my 69th post. HAHAHAH! Sorry, my mind is dirty. It's weird, but I've come to see that kids who go to Catholic school have dirtier minds than public school kids. Isn't that ironic? :)

Monday, October 11, 2010

Inspired By The Count Himself

Dear Bloggie,

   One of my all-time favorite movies is The Count Of Monte Cristo. It all starts with an uneducated, innocent and painfully naïve clerk’s son named Edmond Dantès who finds himself betrayed by his best friend, a rich man named Fernand Mondego. Fernando, despite his wealth, power, and suave, is not happy with what he has. Even worse, he is extremely jealous of Edmond for being happy with what little he does have. So, as a way to not only remove the source of his jealousy, and to take Edmond’s beautiful, kind, and smart fiancée, Mercedès Iguanada, he has Edmond thrown in prison for treason.


   I might be spoiling it a bit, but I might as well tell you just a bit more. After years of imprisonment, he finally was able to escape (with the help of a dear friend, and in an interesting way).  A few chance encounters (meaning an awesome fight, a couple years of being a pirate, and whole lot of money) later, he become the Count of Monte Cristo. Rich and educated -- both in the mind and in his fighting skills -- he is no longer naïve. Instead he is hell bent on revenge for what Mondego and his accomplices have done to him.


   Though I have heard the movie is the not the best version of the book, and that it is actually quite different from the original story, I can’t help but love it. It takes place in the 1800’s, which is my favorite century EVER! I swear, if I couple go back in time, I would live in 19 century Europe. Mainly England and France, with the occasional trips to places like Italy, and Greece, and Ireland, and Portugal, and Spain. Maybe even Germany, it was good back then. OK, so I love Europe as a whole. Well, I love western Europe, anyways.


   So onto why I’m talking about this. After the Count becomes, well, a count, he throws a lavish ball, inviting anyone who is anyone to meet him. Including he enemies, of course. The invitations he sends out are just breathtakingly beautiful. The theme for my sixteenth birthday (only about a year and a half away!) is a masquerade. When I saw the invitations I was stunned; I want them. But how and where do I get them? And really, shouldn’t I be thinking of other things like losing weight (a lot of weight) so I can fit into a beautiful ball gown.  I mean, I found this site that makes gowns for Sweet Fifteen’s (or Quinceanera as the Spanish say) and Sweet Sixteen's. They have my size, but I don’t want to be the fat girl in the beautiful gown. No, I want to be the beautiful girl in the gown which is beautiful, but can not compare to her beauty. OK, so maybe that’s taking it a bit far, but the point is that I want the dress to compliment me, not be what people see, saying to themselves “Wow, that dress is so beautiful. Too bad it can’t make her more beautiful.”


  I’m not saying I want to a stick or look sick. God no, I think those models that are size 00’s are too skinny. But I would love to  definitely be under a size ten, basically around six and eight. That means, that for my body type ( I am bigger boned than most, like Jordan Sparks or Khloe Kardashian, except -- sadly -- without the super model height) I should be somewhere between the 130’s to 150’s. I’m 5’5, almost 5’6 so I can pull it off easily. Maybe I’ll finally get an ass, unlike the flat thing I have right now.


   Basically, I’m asking, does anyone have any diet tips? The gym won’t let me sign up until I’m fifteen (which I am SO doing when I turn fifteen), but until then I need help. I’m looking for more on things that are healthy for me to eat. Excise isn’t easily attainable for me, so I’m hoping that eating well and getting excise on Fridays during my three hours of dance classes (they serve as my gym credits at an art school) and my daily walk up and down stairs, through the campus to the Commons Building where I have lunch, then back to the main building and up the stairs again to class, will be enough until I turn fifteen. I would tell you my weight, but I’m not sure what it is. The last time I weighed myself was mid-summer when I had that ear infection and had to go to a walk in clinic; my doctor was closed seeing as it was a Sunday, but I was in too much pain not to go. They needed to get all my health info, so they weighed me. Let me tell you, I’m not proud at all. Even worse, I know I’ve gained weight since.


   I’ve been eating salad at school either once or twice a week, depending on how unappetizing the food sounds. My school is not know for it’s cuisine. I really like salad, but only romaine and/or iceberg lettuce. Add ranch and I’m good. Add in that my school also offers deli mean with it and the salad is awesome. Deli meat turkey on it tastes a lot better than it sounds, trust me, I know food. The only problem, with the weather cooling down, I want something warmer. So I brave the cafeteria food, even though it looks disgusting, is ehhh, and is probably not very good for you. Life is conflicting.



Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Writing Wisdom Has Come True

Dear Bloggie,

    They were right. You know, all those people who say that the best thing a writer who is stuck or doesn't like how the book  is going can do is step back and give it time. Well, they're right. I have given Becoming room all summer, and now I have finally figured out how I want it to end. The only thing is that this change alters almost everything I had planned for the following books. But that's OK, I already had plans to alter most of the first book, so why not alter the whole series. At least I don't have re-write any of the other books like I will have to with Becoming.

  I hope to pick back up with Becoming in the Spring, if not by the time the summer begins. Well, that's my dream plan. Who knows how life will go.


P.S. Here's the new cover I made for it. :)

Monday, October 4, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

   It's that time of year again. You know, zombies, vampires, and witches, oh my. And how can we forget the warm juicy turkey? But first, between Halloween and Thanksgiving, there is something uber important we music take notice of.


   For those who don't know what that is, well, just keeping reading. NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's the time of year where you sit yourself down for 30 days and night and make yourself write a novel. Some people can accomplish this, some can't. Some can just reach the word count goal (50,00 for the teen/adult site; whatever you want for the kid/pre-teen/teen site) and some find themselves passing it.

  Last year I signed up, but I was so busy/sucked into Becoming that I was unable to pull myself away to write another book. Because, for NaNoWriMo, you MUST start off with a totally unwritten book on November 1st. OK, so if you don't they won't know, but just think of it as a challenge; wouldn't you rather do it and win knowing your really that tough, instead of lying to others and more importantly yourself?

  So for right now C.O.A.O.P. is on hold. I probably get to it until after the New Year. If I use all of November to write, I will probably not be done with the book yet so I'll continue into December. After that I will edit and if I like it enough I'm sending it to a publishing house called Medallion Press Inc. They opened up a YaYa division (Young Adults writing for Young Adults: Teens writing for teens) which really excites me.

   I was reading their "About" area, and  let me tell you, it sounds really awesome. I like that they care about covers just as much as the books. I put so much time into making my own mock covers, that one day, when I'm published, I really hope I have great covers.

  I might as well just show you the cover and story I'm working with.


   When fourteen-year-old Addie Baudelaire made the choice to attend art school across town, she knew she would be in for a change. While most of her friends are attending Northeast Catholic for high school, Addie took a chance to follow her dreams as a writer.

Enter Danny Moretti.

   Smooth talking and popular, sophomore Danny catches Addie’s attention the first day. Even more importantly, she catches his. Romantic and irrespirable, it’s no wonder Addie – level headed, mature, and always responsible Addie – falls head over heels for him.

   But as their relationship deepens, transformations start to take place in Danny. As her world turns to darkness, Addie may very soon have to choose between saving her love and saving her life.


  This story is about abusive (mentally, emotionally, and physically) relationships. I had been working on another cover Saturday night, when I cam across the pictures. Somehow, they just morphed together to a point that I knew I had a story. Even though I'm nuts most of the time, I must say I sometimes like how I think. :)

  I always have authors that inspire each book I write. Becoming it was Stephenie Meyer and Kelly Armstrong, C.O.A.O.P. it is Louise Rennison and Meg Cabot, and for The Many Scars of Addie Baudelaire, it is Judy Blume and Sarah Dessen. I love their books and love how they write about real teen problems and issues. Sex, death, puberty, suicide, pregnancy, ect. They have been there. 

  I was doing some research on real life stories of teen girls being in abusive relationship, when I came across the statistics. They say that one in five girls will be in a relationship that their partner will hit, punch, or harm in any other violent way. I couldn't believe it. Why is there not more books on this? Why is there not more discussions? One in five is a lot.

  So in a way, I am also trying to raise awareness. As they commercial (that they kept airing last week on Teen Mom because Amber was abusing -- physically and mentally and emotionally with her words -- her ex-fiancé, Gary) says, love is respect. Violence is not respect. 

  In short, respect others. Please. Pretty please with a cherry on top, just for me. **Flutters eyelashes** I hope you listen. 


Sunday, October 3, 2010

Life Plans & My Crazy Schemes

Dear Bloggie,

   I'm the type of person who has a life plan. Really, I've had one for years now. Probably since I was eleven or twelve. My plan was get into GHAA (that was added last year) and have a good four years (hopefully have a publishing deal as I leave for college), then get into Columbia or NYU and meet my dream guy there. After college (all six years because I need to get my masters), we would travel around the world before returning to NY.

    We would  get married by the time I'm 28-29 and then honeymoon in Paris. Around 32 I want to have my first child. I want to have about six children (I've got five of the names picked out; I need at least three girls and two boys, the sixth can be either or as long as it's healthy), so they would be close in age. After my first child we would move back to Connecticut  or Massachusetts or maybe even up-state New York. All I know is that I don't want to raise my children in the city and I would just LOVE to live in a small historical town. Like books and TV are always portraying New England to be.

    The public school system in the city isn't the best, so that would mean I would have to either put them in Catholic school or expensive private schools. I'm OK with catholic or private school when you're younger, but I want them to experience public high school like I am.

    Basically, I have a dream and I want to reach it. Of course I want to be a published writer, so I hope that after having my children I can be a stay at home mom. This way I could be part of their lives and have time to write. And with the money I would have coming in from writing, would hire a maid. I like to cook, but cleaning is a job that you basically couldn't pay me to do.

   This is my life. It's simple, but it's a full life complete with two different worlds to live in (historical small town and busy and fast paced New York), many children (which would hopefully lead to many grandchildren), travel, and most importantly love. I just want to give my own children everything I don't have right now for myself. I have a loving mother, but I wish I had a dad. I want to be strangely and freakishly normal. Yeah, it sounds odd, but wanting to have a crazy family that keeps life entertaining while still being the normal Mom, Dad, and kids, is what I want.

 (Downtown Amherst: Doesn't it just look so cute and quaint?!) 

   But now I'm thinking about changing things around. I'm starting to consider going to Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts. It's a smaller college than NYU or Columbia, located in a college town where most people there are under thirty. Plus, according to my awesome Aunt Carla who know allot about colleges,  it's a very creative college which is what I want.

   She was telling me that I should probably do four years in a small school for my bachelors so I can get more one on one with the professors (meaning I would be able to fine tune my writing) and then, if I  want, I can go somewhere bigger like NYU or Columbia for my masters. I think that sounds wonderful. I love Massachusetts and would love to live there for a while. I just don't love Boston. I went there over the summer and hated it.

   Now that I'm in high school I have to really start thing about my future and what I want from it. And the scares the shit out me.