"Call · me."

Do I seriously have that little going on in my life that the only thing worth writing about is what's already been written?

Anyway, mini back-story: my...freshman year of college, I had met this amazingly witty, hilarious, sensitive, perfect guy, who, for some reason, fell completely head-over heels for me. I remember one night we were both at a lame/smelly/debauchery-filled house party, pretending we were *those kids* who actually enjoyed such scenes, but realized early on that we were both far too socially inept and self-conscious to let loose and get in on the seedy action...so we left and went driving. Three hours later we were God-knows-where, having unveiled every secret and story from our respective lives, literally hoarse from the easy and perfect verbal ping-ponging, but still managing our own version of The Postal Service's "Nothing Better."

http://snc.facebook.com/photos.php?id=59000293

Now with witty commentary!

::breaks into chorus of "Belle" from Beauty & the Beast::

Between waiting to hear back from schools and planning some exotic post-graduation travels (that won't happen) for my *final summer off* I'm getting itchy. Itchy and illogical. Perhaps exactly what I need right about now is a trip to...say...Tulsa, OK...perhaps from 6 am Saturday, May 5th, through 2 pm Sunday, May 6th? Granted, that is the weekend immediately before finals...the weekend I should spend either learning Spanish (seeing as I've put it off all semester long) or at least locked away in my room, feigning productivity. On the other hand, how very invigorating would a crazy cross-country adventure with two of my favorite people to see my favorite boys be? I'm pretty sure an acoustic Madeline serenade could inspire some end-of-semester brilliance, yes? 

Although...if I get accepted to NYU (or Columbia or Denver...doesn't really matter), perhaps my groupie fantasizing will quell, and instead manifest itself in a more mature, more constructive way, when I channel all of my energy into moving cross-country to puruse a passion, a sense of independence (!), a (real) education, and (::hopehopehope::) a career. Hm. 

I could seriously throw up I'm so nervous. 

If I'm rejected from everywhere, I'm going to Tulsa. End of story. 

</worthless drivel>

Current Mood:	anxious
Current Music:	Taylor to me: "OMG, your eyes are so beautiful..."

bombay_gin

jealousmuch

1. Whenever I'm walking alone and think there may be the potential for some form of social interaction - no matter how minuscule - I maintain a sort of running dialogue in my mind as I anticipate what people could say to me, and what I could say back. I aim for witty banter, but sometimes it's just as innocuous as that which would come out if I didn't sweat so much over rehearsing. And sometimes it's just something that's completely untrue, but may (or may not) sound interesting. As if Cashier #1 I encounter at Target cares if he gets a "Just fine, thanks" reply or "Fabulous! I just found out that I won an all-expense paid trip around the globe, and thought this here Nair and Seashell nail polish would come in handy as I'm traipsing bare foot on the sands of St. Bart's." No seriously.

2. Since I've lost my laptop to porn-inflicted viruses (or whatever) you'd think I'd be sleeping better. Nope - still up well into the wee hours of the early morning, wasting brain cells either on Nick @ Night, miscellaneous E! countdowns or THS, or Boy Meets World. Or Golden Girls, Girls Next Door, or Sex & the City. Oooor Parental Control or Next... 

3. Okay that last one wasn't interesting, unique or even unknown. And it was a lie. If I'm up that late, I'm probably situated in front of my 50x's magnification mirror, plucking everything in sight. Not because I'm a hairy bastard, but because I have this weird obsession with perfecting everything in my power to perfect: as if by eliminating every misappropriated whisker, I can uncover the glassy-smooth, porceline skin that should cover my 22-year-old face. Should.

4. Part of me is really narcissistic and thinks my looks are the greatest thing since sliced bread...part of me is pretty horrified, slightly embarrassed, and largely disappointed whenever I see myself in pictures. Nevertheless, whenever I'm feeling particularly attractive, I try to capture what I feel I look like. Usually, this just results in a bunch of lame MySpace-esque headshots that are deleted shortly after I've flipped through them...as I'm pretty sure Facebook photo albums are better used for other things. (Note: see below)

5. Sometimes there's nothing I like to do more than go to Barnes & Noble and page through wedding magazines. No intention of buying a book or drinking a coffee at Starbucks: I just like to sit and loiter and gum up the pictures with my dirty little fingers. Go ahead and judge - my wedding will be spectacular.

6. In all reality, I'm pretty sure John Mayer would want to marry me if he ever met me. Or at least read my Livejournal (seeing as his blog is largely what convinced me) Also, I'm pretty sure Nicole Richie would want to be my best friend. And I used to think that about Hilary Duff...but then a friend of mine pointed out that a) she wasn't actually Lizzie McGuire, and b) even I couldn't handle the two of us together, being all teen scene and trendy. 

And no, I don't want to expand my social circle beyond the pages of Us Weekly, thank you very much. 

7. I'm having a really difficult time thinking of anything that doesn't directly relate to Livejournal or the Internet...so I'll continue to run with that...Even though I don't have the capacity for millions of userpics (or the motivation to change them every thirty seconds), I still hoard them like a fiend because I think some of them would make neat charms for a bracelet. And you know a Livejournal userpic charm bracelet would be infinitely cooler than one of those stupid Italian charm bracelets (which I hate with a passion for absolutely no reason...my deepest apologies to anyone who loves them...please find solace in the fact that I want a Livejournal userpic charm bracelet)

8. Even though I have literally drawers upon drawers upon Rubbermaid containers filled with lotions, body splashes, eau de parfums, and eau de toilettes, I still drown myself (and whomever I'm with) in at least fifteen different fragrances whenever I pass by a perfume counter (which I will sometimes go out of my way to do). At the moment, my favorites include Chanel CoCo Mademoiselle, Lancome Miracle, Donna Karan Be Delicious, and Britney Spears Fantasy (hush, you).

9. I used to join LJ communities (ratings, Hanson, ANTM/Project Runway/AI forums...etc) just for the sake of comments and random dialogue. However, when my real friends leave me emails, voicemails, or messages via the Facebook, I'll typically stew for days before replying. As if my friends would prefer some well-planned response to the off-the-cuff Katy Standard?

10. I'm really weird about spending and saving money: between last summer and Christmas, I (finally) paid off the $5,000 debt I accrued (over one year) with Limited Brands for various bras, panties, dresses, necklaces, faux engagement rings, and fragrance giftsets...and essentially vowed to never shop again. Since then I've worked my tail off serving tables, even going so far as to not rest until I had exactly $1,000 in cash to show for spring break alone. (I've since rested - go me) After that, I began marking off all these financial benchmarks in my day planner, budgeting everything from gas to insurance to Diet Mountain Dew - just to ensure my success. Of course, then I got in a car accident, was forced to pay off a surprise tuition bill, and botched my hair color...but I'm still of the mentality that everything must be budgeted!

::phew:: That was exhausting. And now, as promised in #4...it's me!

::whispers:: I'm not really applying the lipgloss...I actually did that prior to snapping the picture...but, seriously, how convincing am I?

"Only on your back, Blanche. That way, everything slides back and you look like you've just had a facelift."

"Oh, you're right - I'm gorgeous!"

"Of course, not only does your face slide back, but your chest does, too. Back -- and off to the side."

Ah yes...the elusively perfect closed-eyes "candid"...that definitely took about 75 attempts to get juuuuuuust right.

Current Mood:	awake
Current Music:	Hanson "Been There Before" <--makes me the happiest clam

::sadface::

It's really a shame that I've invested so much hope in this rather intangible prospect (NYU? Come on Katy) - and hardly invested much effort at all into actually cranking out quality applications instead of these pseudo-intellectual/"LOOK AT HOW QUIRKY AND UNIQUE I AM!"-pieces of disjointed garbage. I honestly don't know what to do if I am rejected from these programs though. I'm graduating in less than two months with a completely useless degree (English and Women & Gender Studies) and have literally run out of ideas beyond these publishing institutes.

(It's really a shame that that is the beginning and end of my life-planning)

It's really a shame that I've allowed myself to believe that I will walk across that stage commencement day, accept my diploma, shake the dean's hand, and *poof!* magically, I will be Carrie Bradshaw.

Silly talentless Katy.

It's really a shame that even that sounds frighteningly un-appealing...at least "professionally"...seeing as college has sucked the joy out of writing for me. Hence the need (needneedneed) for me to get into these programs so that I can leach off of other people's talents...yessssss...

It's really a shame I have no (other?) marketable skills.

Current Mood:	melancholy
Current Music:	Ben Harper "Serve Your Soul"

That is all.