I was so overjoyed when I turned on the news this morning. Obama is supporting gay marriage. He certainly has my vote, if only I were eighteen! I just really, really hope that he gets reelected since Mitt Romney won't budge on his stand against gay marriage. I probably shouldn't be basing my opinions of political candidates solely on their view of gays, but eh. I don't really care about anything else relating to government. Everybody's always all, "Oh that's bad, you should be interested in your government so you can be educated and not ignorant." Well I'm not.
My AP Calculus exam destroyed me. It tore my brain into shriveled tidbits and slam-dunked said tidbits in the trash can. Seriously, it was awful. All the problems gave us certain bits of information and then expected us to find solutions when the information wasn't even helpful! I studied for this, I prepared for it, but fuck, nothing could've prepared me for THAT. And I wasn't alone. Nobody felt confident about how they did. I never should've signed up for it. I felt like a total dumb ass. Worst test I've ever taken.
I came back to school after the exam just for journalism and Brittany. And she looked so happy to see me! She couldn't stop smiling, asking where I was and junk. We got our last issue ever yesterday and my story about Brittany looked awesome. She looks stunning in her senior picture we used. And today I saw people wearing our final issue as hats. I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not. But I'm proud to have spent a year in journalism. It was great. I met awesome people, I sharpened my writing skills, broadened my horizons. I just really wish it hadn't been cut from the curriculum. That still makes my blood boil. There really is no justification for it.
Today we had a little farewell party for the newspaper staff. I was telling Brittany about my awesome visit to my number one college, and she said she was gonna check it out, that she was interested in liberal arts colleges in the state. HOLY FUCK, could you imagine us going to the same college? I would just die. I would burst.
Also, I had a cutesie dream about her last night. I dreamed we were in the backseat of a car full of our friends, and I slipped my hand into hers all sneakily and smooth-like. But we made sure that nobody could see us holding hands, being all secretive and junk. So I felt really melt-y and happy when I woke up this morning.
I've recently taken up an interest in reading The New Yorker, Psychology Today, and Revolver, which is a rock magazine that I didn't even know existed. I only picked up Revolver because Manson was on the cover. But yeah, these magazines are interesting. If I could afford it I would subscribe to them, but alas, I'm still mostly jobless. I feel super pretentious when I read The New Yorker in school, like everybody sees me reading it and thinks I'm a snob who's too good for Seventeen or Vogue. Which I am. But it teaches me a lot about the goings-on of the world. I didn't know anything about the political uncertainty in Egypt, now I know a bit more about it. Makes me feel all cultured and shit.
I have to write an entire argumentative essay for AP English by tomorrow. So I should probably do that. Oh, what a procrastinator I am.