Never sure what to say

September 11th, 2001.
I was in second grade, and to be honest I don't remember all that much about it. I do remember a few flashes of things but nothing much as a whole. I remember that we were doing something in my classroom - I'm not sure what it was, but we were definitely in class, not at recess or at specials... And then I remember that everyone was shouting about turning on the T.V.'s in the classrooms, and I don't remember my classmates reactions, but mostly I think we were all just confused. I don't think that we understood what was going on. But a lot of the teachers were crying, just... openly sobbing. We all got sent home early that day, and even when I did get home I didn't understand it. It's sad, because thinking back on it, I think most the younger students like myself were happy that day just because they got to leave school early; they couldn't even begin to comprehend what had happened.

Today I look back on it and sometimes I just want to cry. It's not like this was something that happened so far back in time that I wasn't around when it occurred: it's not like the Holocaust or Vietnam, or anything like that - I was actually there for this. And I didn't even understand it. My mother at the time was just getting out of being a fire marshal and into teaching. I know we don't live in New York, but I'm so glad that my mother wasn't firefighting at that time anyways. It would have made me just want to cry more than I already do at the thought of it all. It's just not fair.

Then I hear things about some pastor wanting to burn copies of the Qu'ran and I think... well, that's awfully stupid of you. Way to fix the problem (and I hope you're sensing my sarcasm through text). Yes, we were attacked. But were we attacked for our religion or for our nationality? If it's for our religion, were we attacked by another religion, or by another nationality? There's so much that I want to say, so much that I want to express that I'm just... I'm not sure how to phrase it. Whenever I try to phrase what I want to say I feel as if I sound uninformed or ignorant; and it's not that at all, or at least I should hope not. I just can't seem to say it. The most that I have worked out is this:

- You're entitled to believe what you want and no one should force you to believe what they believe.
- Sometimes, things are "right" for one person, but they don't fit with another. We may all come from the same mold, but the embellishments to each of us are different and are formed as we grow and learn.
- A select group of people does not reflect the views of a majority, the one exception being perhaps the Electoral College and THOSE people do not count because they are elected by a majority. No majority of people should be ostracized or punished because of a select group of people that happen to branch off from that majority.
- There is honestly no sense in violence, ever. The only reason that it happens is because one person starts it usually for no reason or for a lack-luster excuse that they happen to have (this does not mean that violence is necessary, it is an option they choose). From then, others feel the need to retaliate, whether to "prove a point" or for defense. And then it becomes a battle that truly lacks reason.
- Revenge does nothing good. Stop fooling yourself.
- Your way is not the only way: Get the f*ck over it.
- Get some perspective. All of you.
- Last but not least, if it's so Christian to turn the other cheek... why didn't we?

My prayers and thoughts go out to the families and friends who lost loved ones in the 9/11 attacks of '01. Perhaps the thoughts and prayers of a sixteen year old high school student don't mean much... but regardless, they're there.

- Georgiana <3.

Saturday [With Little Creative License]

I honestly haven't the slightest clue of what else to write about today except for just one thing: I can't wait for cooler weather. It's September the fourth and our highs are still in the 80's-90's, and to be honest I just hate hot weather. Seriously? It's just irritating to me. I've always preferred being cold to being hot, though being comfortable is most preferred over all. But if I had to pick the extremes (or extremes for my geographical region, at least), I would prefer the cold. Thank God fall is on the way. Jeans and turtlenecks: I miss you.

- Georgiana <3

I'm the Coolest Girl.

I am the coolest girl in the whole wide world
I know it but can't show it at all.
I am sick and tired of not knowing the places where I should belong
Its about time to prove them wrong
Give me a shot to show what I've got,
I'm a hell of a whole lot more
Than this frizzy hair,
These frumpy clothes I wear.

I am done with losing, on with choosing:
The coolest girl on the face of the planet,
The coolest bitch on earth god dammit,
The coolest chick you've ever seen or heard,
And you can try to break me down
But sorry guys, I'm sticking around,
I've thought about it and I've found
That I am the coolest
Girl.


A Very Potter Sequel <3.

Epic awesomeness

It has been discovered that me and my friend Tim are made of epic awesomeness. We discovered this in our conversation on the phone, both very tired and not feeling our best near 11:44 at night before a school day. We discovered this quite easily and we have arrived at the conclusion that we form an epically awesome team, and when people see us, they cannot help but be awed by our awesomeness. They're just like "hey. god. they're so effing awesome."

Because we're epically awesome.
Obviously.

- Georgiana <3

I am me, I am not me.

Sometimes I look into a mirror and I don’t find myself looking back at me. It is my face in many ways, and yet there is something there that is completely and utterly foreign to me. It’s literally as though another person were hiding behind the glass of the mirror, and looking at me instead of my reflection. There is something peculiar about the whites of my eyes that don’t seem quite right: there is something there that stands out to me and yet blends in with the rest of my features. It is I. It is not I. I am not sure who this person is, or why they are lurking in the shadows of the whites of my eyes. I am not sure why they hide behind the darkness cast on my face by a dark curtain of hair falling in front of it. I am puzzled by the cold ring of grey that circles the green of my irises and keeps the color trapped within a wall, for that is not I, either. The more I stare at myself, the hollower I become. Shadows pitted at the shallow areas of my face, pressing deeper into my skin. Her lips part, as do mine. And yet I cannot help but thing that the two of us were going to say completely different things, following the same train of thought that lead me to this puzzling conclusion. I am me. I am not me.

- Georgiana <3

Well, it's not Hogwarts

That's for sure. First day of school was today, and it actually wasn't too terribly bad. I really think that I'm going to like my writing through literature class, as well as my chorus class - my teacher is a new one, and he seems pretty damn cool to me. We're allowed to call him Mr. G, and for the purposes of this blog that's what I'm going to call him. I think I'm going to like that class best, maybe tied with writing through literature. Most my chorus class (me included) thinks that he's gay - not that we're bothered by it, we just want to know, you know? We're a school for the arts, so we're very tolerant and more accepting than most other schools, I think. But there's no way we'd ask - we're not going to be rude, and it's not really any of our business, even if we are dying to know.

And this yer my plan is to try to be much more organized and well rounded than I was last year. I don't want to sacrifice my free time outside of school, but this is my junior year, and I HAVE to get good grades. I seriously might just die if I don't - cause this is, of course, the year they count for college. That kind of sucks, but I mean I knew that life was going to catch up with me eventually... anyways.

I woke up this morning nervous about my junior year. The first thing I told myself was "there's no use in being scared", and quickly realized that I was right. There really isn't any use in being scared - there might be reason for it, sure, but no use. And after that I felt okay. Hopefully I've found my new mantra for the new school year - gotta love it.

- Georgiana <3

The Heart: It beats, it freezes, it breaks.

Me? Yeah. I've got a problem with love. I've got a major problem with love, and you know what the sad part about it is? Most of my problems with it that I've had previously with it all aren't even my fucking problems. They're everyone elses. EVERY. ONE. ELSES. I'd like to think that I'm the kind of person that people can come to with their problems and things like that. I like to think that I'm the kind of person that people can be seriously honest with about things. And that makes me happy sometimes because it makes me think that I must have done something right, that I must have done something to give them a reason to trust me.

But sometimes its just like... wow. I've been hearing the same things from the same people for so long, that I already know what they're going to say before they say it. As soon as I see that expression on their faces, or notice the way that they're typing something... I know exactly what the problem is. You know, I'd love to say that my first instinct is to become gravely worried about them. But it's not. It's the desire to slap them and scream "GET THE FUCK OVER IT ALL READY GOD DAMMIT I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THIS SHIT FOR MONTHS AND ITS ALWAYS THE SAME THING, IT'S NOT EVEN A NEW PROBLEM! YOU SAY THINGS OVER AND OVER AGAIN WORD FOR WORD AND I AM SICK OF IT! IT'S MAKING MY EARS BLEED!" But to be honest, I'm too nice of a person to say that. I can be a bitch sometimes, and I'll admit it. I won't try to deny that - it would be pointless to. But I'm too nice to do that. Especially to someone I care about.

I mean, it isn't that I don't care. I do, obviously I do, or I wouldn't be sloshing through something on that note with someone. I do care. But there is only so much that one person can take of one topic for so long, you know what I mean? It's like having a song on repeat for a few days, or even only a few hours - by that point you know all the words, you've heard the melody before, and eventually you just get sick of it, and you can't listen to that song one more fucking time, or your brain might explode. There's just only so much one person can take. And trust me, at the moment, this is just barely touching the tip of the heap that is currently on my mind - and god is it smothering. It's just pressing down on my brain and my heart, and my lungs, and it's making me feel ridiculously low, over something(s) that is probably ridiculous to feel this way over.

And then there's the fact that everywhere I seem to turn I'm seeing romance. Fine. Whatver. That's great. Good for you. But do me a favor and get some class, keep it private so the rest of us don't have to see it. Just because you're saying something online and you aren't right next to the other person doesn't mean that PDA over the computer isn't still PDA. So just cut it out or keep it private, because either way, you're making me fucking wretch. Kthnx.

And then there's the whole kind of issue with the me always being alone in the fact that I don't date. No one else gets it. They say they do, but no, they honestly don't. They might sympathize or empathize with me, for a while, but they don't understand it. At all. And there's no way that they ever possible could because they aren't me. Someone can say that they don't date, but going on hiatus, or taking a break doesn't mean that you don't date. It just means you're taking a break. When I say I don't date, I mean that I have not as well as I will not. I don't plan on it. It's not the way that my mind operates. Or my body for that matter. No one will understand the fear that comes along with me considering dating. If I know someone like-likes me, I get nervous and twitchy. If that goes away and I get comfortable with the idea, because I realize I have control over what happens, well it doesn't last long especially if I actually get asked out. Then I feel absolutely terrible. Full-blown panic attack. Shaking knees, sick to my stomach, sweaty palms, and if it gets really bad, even a fever. It just happens. I literally get sick, especially if I say yes. The one time I said yes to someone in seventh grade, that's what happened.

In seventh or eighth grade when I thought I might give a guy a chance, the same thing happened, though it didn't help he kept trying to kiss me when I didn't want to be kissed. So yes, I am sixteen. No I do not date. Yes, I have never been kissed. And the vast majority of the time I am perfectly okay with this - It doesn't bother me, and in fact I prefer it. It's a good sense of freedom, you know?

And yet even then throughout all of this, I am still an absolute sap. I'm a hopeless romantic. Mostly? It's just not fair. I have these great and beautiful fantasies of things that I'd want to have happen to me. But I get so scared, and because of that I half think they never will. Maybe my fantasies are far too great to live up to any realistic expectations. Maybe it doesn't help that somewhere in the back of my mind I think there's a part of me that thinks all boys have ulterior motives. Maybe I just think the world is fucked up. I don't know. But it makes me sad to think that I'm so scared of change that it will never happen. And it makes me sad to think that I'll always be alone. There's nothing you can say, no matter who you are, to make me believe otherwise in this sense. I know you're there for me. But sometimes a person needs more.