I think I might go to UAF. I'd kind of feel like a pathetic failure if I did. I don't know what to do.

pros: if I went there I would major in petroleum engineering, so

• almost-guaranteed job when I graduate
• it would be a job that I didn't hate
• with an average starting salary of $60,000
• graduate with no debt
• could possibly get my pilot's licence too
• still be in alaska

cons:

• really cold and dark (I would probably get fat and super depressed from being shut inside all the time)
• feel like a failure
• still be in alaska
• see no new places, meet no new people
• possibly have less opportunity to travel

urgh. I have to finish that Tufts application...

mom: all this stuff about me not moving fast enough
me: I know I know I know terrible horrible I'm the worst ever
mom: OMG ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY YOU'RE TERRIBLE HORRIBLE THE WORST EVER
newsflash, mom: I already hate myself. I really don't need your help.
I'm really hurt that she didn't get me anything for christmas. she spent all this time picking out tons of stuff especially for C, and what did I get? nothing! some socks! (and a laptop. which I said I DIDNT WANT because I DONT FUCKING NEED ONE because there's one that works. now this thing is just leverage for all her guilt trips. I fucking HATE it when she buys me expensive things. this is why I always feel guilty whenever anyone does anything nice for me... I'll always have to pay for it some way later)
lets see, what did I get exactly? a pair of gloves, socks, a mini hair straightener (wtf? I don't need or want a flatiron. never asked for one, shown any interest, ect. I think I looked a little confused bc mom says, "well, it was a freebie when I bought C's"), a debit card to pay for gas with, a laptop (see above), and a necklace (in my stocking, and DAD was the one who got it for me. it was the best thing I got by a long shot). from C I got some lotion that she wanted, a three-sizes-too-big flannel shirt and a plain black hoodie with too short sleeves (they were from f21, which is really cheap, and I've never worn anything like either one. it's like she just grabbed some random things)
what did C get? all three seasons of chuck, the first season of glee, a bunch of stuff from sally beauty supply and a $25 gift card, two pairs of boots and two different necklaces from me (which I spent MY OWN MONEY on, mom GAVE her money for my gift. what the fuck! she spends at least $200 every WEEK I think she can spend a LITTLE bit on someone else), a pair of turquoise earrings (which mom spent months looking for), a pair of beaded earrings (which mom picked out for her), a very nice flat iron (she's ASIAN. her hair is already as STRAIGHT as hair can naturally be), and $200. (they bought C a computer for her birthday). she got a shitload of stuff from the other family (incl a new coach bag, stupid rich fuckers.) and a new kindle, and a $50 gift card...
it has nothing to do with how much money you spent. I just wanted something that you had actually picked out for ME, you know, something with a thought behind it. anything! some cheap earrings that you thought I might like! some pyjamas you thought I would wear! (no one can say I'm hard to shop for! I've always liked all the things you've bought me!) and then you give C $200 cash? what the fuck? and the way she pulled it out and counted it, and you just laughed (if I had done that, you would have fucking killed me) you know she's not going to save it for her trip. why are you running around giving her money all the time? she's irresponsible, immature, and she spends all her money on expensive clothing that she doesn't wear more than twice. she spends like crazy, and has no concept of saving or planning ahead. I have always been very careful with my money. you have never given me money like that. if you do, it comes with the "you will not spend this on anything but an EMERGENCY and you will pay it back" don't fucking lie. dont say "I never said that, allie". you didn't, but I assumed that from your behavior and guess what? I was always right! (why do I do that, you ask? why, its because I'm supposed to know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING and be able to know exactly what you're thinking WITHOUT EVER ASKING)
what have I done now?



I don't know what to do, I don't know where to go. I hate myself. I don't do anything. I'm not good at anything. I'm not smart enough or talented enough or pretty enough to be worth anything. I just kind of sit here and take up space and use oxygen and feel myself getting older and uglier by the minute. it's pathetic.

shoot me now. I'll never get into those schools.

well, whine whine whine, blah blah blah, it doesn't reaaalllly matter what schoool you want to go to....why do you even waant to go to a good school? oh, I don't know. because I WANT TO FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE, SO I'M NOT JUST A USELESS PIECE OF SHIT USING UP OXYGEN.

so close and yet so far. I still have to finish writing those essays.
one for Rensselaer.
add to the common app one.
edit the common app one for Embry-Riddle.
the two supplements and the extra for Tufts...

I have to wait to send in my transcripts. This really bothers me.

I'm very sick but I looked lovely today. my hair is absolutely perfect for some reason. normally, I'm sad that I didn't look pretty for a more significant occasion, but I saw J when I was out today so that almost makes it worth it. (we didn't get to stop and chat, but he waved and said hello)

WHY THE FUCKING FUCK DO ALL SCHOOL WEBSITES USE OUTLOOK? IT DOESN'T FUCKING WORK. IT NEVER FUCKING WORKS. ITS A FUCKING PAIN IN THE ASS FOR EVERY FUCKING PERSON WHO TRIES TO USE IT. THIS IS THE GODDAMNED TWENTY-FIRST-FUCKING CENTURY. GET THE FUCK WITH THE PROGRAM.

today, on the way to choir:
J: A, you look really cute today. (or did he say nice? I'm pretty sure he said cute. more than once. which, you know, is not really a guy word)
Me: aw, thank you.
J: actually, I've never seen you not look cute. just, you always look cute. you have so many nice clothes... yeah...(he says in his awkward, adorable way)
Me: oh thanks! I'm so flattered, haha. (I'm probably blushing now)
it was something like this. why can't I remember it exactly? I should have talked to J longer, but we had to go to our sections... and neither of us are really the type to wander around during choir...
but. compliments are awkward. but it was nice that something nice happened on such a sucky day.
I wasn't on the callback list. but that means I might have already been cast... I would really just like a little part, but I probably won't get a part at all, because there were so many people at tryouts! I'm so happy that Kc was on the callback list! and H and N too... I hope they all get parts. H and N will, of course, but my fingers are crossed for Kc.

to my mother:
you are not perfect, so don't act like you are.
I am not perfect, so don't expect me to be.
stop using every conversation we have as an opportunity to criticize me about something.
stop laughing at me, and stop making fun of me when you don't want to talk. it's just an excuse to belittle me so whatever I'm saying seems silly, or write it off as "look at my little baby being a teenager".
stop playing the "well, you're lucky I'm not like some other parents" card.
stop blaming me for everything.
stop always assuming the worst about people.
stop dismissing any emotion I have as me being tired or sick.
stop ignoring me. yes, I do those things too sometimes-- when I really don't care. (you telling me to do chores is not a conversation. I'm sorry, but I don't care that your coworker's acquaintance's mother's aunt is ill. I don't have the slightest clue who any of those people are)
stop treating me like I'm stupid.
I am never good enough-- nothing I do ever gets your approval. there is always something terribly wrong with me.
this is me, and you are just going to have to come to terms with that at some point. I will never be the bubbly cheerleader whom everybody knows and loves. I am awkward and a little shy. I cannot change my entire personality.
you are not an expert on how I act in social situations. I behave very differently when I'm not with you.
you say that you were trying to be a good listener. a good listener at least tries to act like they care. if I wanted your brand of "listening" I would be better off talking to a wall. you say "well, you attack me when I say something" why is that? because you say useless things like "you sound angry" or tell me things that indicate you think I am stupid. I am angry. you tell me I shouldn't be angry, and that I shouldn't express my opinions. perhaps I wouldn't be so angry if I wasn't constantly ignored and told to be quiet.
aren't teenagers supposed to be angry, irresponsible, disrespectful, and selfish? I think I should get a little more credit. you should be grateful for how polite, responsible, helpful, and well-behaved I am.
whenever I have a problem, you use it as an opportunity to tell me how irresponsible/ disrespectful/selfish/emotionally/socially retarded I am, and that absolutely everything bad in the world is completely my fault, and how you are worried about the rest of my life because of how terrible I am at X. believe it or not, I get tired of hearing this.

you should be happy that your child is aware of and cares about the outside world, instead of worrying about how their opinions affect their social life.

I think I am in love with J, just a tiny bit.
we were all at the valley hotel after the madrigal, and it was really late.
H: ...feminism is annoying sometimes.
Me: why would you say something like that?(or something like this) sexism still exists...ect
H: well, feminism is... blah blah blah
C: *insert christian guy stuff about how "men and women are different!" *
H: well, what if a woman wants to have 7 kids and stay at home?
Me: well then she should do that! it is her choice what she wants to do with her life. that's the whole point!
C: well, how are women still unequal? I mean, look at hilary clinton and sarah palin! ect.
*argument about women in politics, and how you can't use one example for everyone. plus bullshit about "maybe they just don't want to"*
Me: stuff about how women are still unequal, get paid less, ect.
J joins us, and C asks him what he thinks.
J: oh yeah, women get paid less than men...
Me: thank you!
J agreed with me, argued on my side, and even had a source for the " women get paid less than men" thing. later, he said he just didn't really like organized religion. and I said "oh my gosh, I think my eyes are turning into little hearts" and he was like "why?" and I said" because you're agreeing with me and that doesn't happen very often!" I kept talking about politics, even when H didn't want to. I hope I didn't look rude. I kind of tried to explain why. (I'm so embarrassed. so so embarrassed)
and then religion. he's the type who really wants to be religious, but he has "never had an experience with god" (hmm, I wonder why) and so he sort of stopped going, because he didn't believe....? later, H says "charity is good, but its whats at the core that matters." like "charity" is just one of those things that you should do, not very important. what is the core?.....worshiping this being? why? shouldn't the core be doing good for your fellow human beings? no, I don't volunteer because charity is a part of my religion. I do it because it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. I like helping people, it's as simple as that. I don't need some religion to make me do it, just like I don't need religion to prevent me from killing and lying and stealing. or as a reason not to drink and do drugs.
later J said something about not telling his mom anything. about "stuff". and then he was like " oh no, that's probably pretty enticing, isn't it?" and I was like "haha, yeah, you probably shouldn't say things like that when you don't want to tell" and I was just going to leave it at that, but he said "well, you know, like girls and drugs and drinking and stuff" kc said "I tell my parents everything" I said "I don't tell them anything..." and then we had to leave and it was a little awkward.
why why why do all the cute guys who share my views have to drink/do drugs? it seems like you've got two choices: ultra religious conservative, no drugs. not super religious sorta liberal, drugs. I hate organized religion and I'm ultra liberal, that doesn't mean I run around being crazy. I have no grand moral objections to these things, I just don't see the point. and no, you cannot talk me into doing it.
then I wanted to talk to mom but I couldn't because she was too busy being mad at me for forgetting my phone.
I love my parents and they love me; I don't really feel the need to rebel against the rules, I don't hate adults. so this seems to make me less relatable.
but I am angry. I'm angry at the world for all this religion crap. and all the sexism, and the blind faith and stupidity. it's just, other people here don't think that way.
"well, what do we do? where do we go from here?" well, for starters, we don't go around pretending things don't exist. we don't say stupid things. and most of all, we don't just give up, because I'm pretty sure that will get absolutely nothing done, and will probably end up with us going backwards.

it starts with me arriving at N's house. her house is enormous and open, and it looks out over a lake. it is her birthday; she and J have been together for a while now. there is something (it looks like a small flying machine?) that is broken. I know I can fix it, so I take it down the hallway into a room. the room is filled with all sorts of things, small animals in jars, wheels and gears and strange contraptions, fancy pillows and old tapestries... I set about fixing the machine, and then I suddenly realize that I cannot remember what it looks like. so strange, because I think I was the one who made it in the first place. I have been here before, many times. there is a jar with a toad in it sitting on the windowsill. I look out at the lake, wondering how it could live there. J comes in. the room seems brighter while he is here. we talk for a while, about something I can't remember. someone makes a joke about him being alone with someone who he isn't with. we ignore them. neither of us would want to hurt N. he leaves, unable to help me reconstruct the machine. a girl is sent in. she is about my age, with dark hair and a pretty face. I ask if she can help me, and she is sulllen and unwilling. soon enough, we get into an argument. both of us are so angry and I don't understand why. she throws one of the jars at me, and I dodge it, hurling one back. it cracks open by her feet, the yellowish liquid pooling on the wooden floor. I hope desperately that neither of us is hit with one, but I reach for the jar with the toad in it and she begins to cry. she tells me it was her pet toad, and I set it down, explaining that I didn't kill it, it was whoever owns this room. I hug her and she cries on my shoulder for a while. I understand how it is to lose a pet. I like toads too, and I tell her the stories of my mom's pet toad. she smiles and wipes her eyes and we get back to work. we walk down to the other side of the room (it's more like an enormous study) in search of some pieces we need. the items in this side of the room are more sinister in nature: bones, skeletons, preserved body parts, a partially- dissected human head. there is a mound on the floor by the door. I look at it and realize that somehow I know it was boy from my school. the horrifically deformed skull hardly looks human anymore, except for the blank eyes staring from its sockets. the rest of the body looks as if the bones stretched and twisted, and the flesh melted off of them, blackened. it acted quickly on him. the girl puts the spine and the skull onto a tray, to dispose of them. "no wait!" I cry. I have seen the back of his head on the floor: he had two faces. we both shudder and she picks up the other half. "we have to take all of it" I say, thinking that the rest of the bones might be contagious as well. there seems to be far more matter than there should be for a person of his size. I help her load it up and carry it out to the hallway. I walk back down the hallway and see a painter in the process of putting a mural on the wall. he is painting a small seal. I look closer at the border and realize that it is made of bones which have grown up through the wall. I point to them wordlessly and he says "I know. they thought I wouldn't notice." I help him to pick the bones away from the wall, hoping I can dispose of them before someone else is infected. too late. I was not paying enough attention, having become overconfident in my abilities to deal with the disease and it's components. I feel a pinch and a tug as one of the spiked vertebrae cuts into my hand. I have an inch long cut on my index finger. it is deep, and as I stare at it, it is almost as if I can feel the poison beginning it's route through my veins. I am going to die. the painter looks at me, horrified, but I don't care. I stand up and run out into the room where all the people are, hoping to find them and speak with them before I collapse. the first person I find is F. he is talking to K and another boy. by this point, I feel as though my limbs are turning to jelly; I feel woozy and dizzy and I can't quite think straight. I take his face in my hands and say "F, may I kiss you?" he just stares at me. I smile and say "F, I am dying". I go to kiss him and he doesn't respond; he has a very confused look on his face. I laugh and simply hug him, pressing my face into his chest. he laughs too, and hugs me back, still confused. I say something about how I love him even in spite of his crazy religiousness, then run off to find some of the others. I see a girl. I know she is infected as well, although she is holding up far better than I. she stumbles only a little. she looks familiar, and in hindsight I realize that she might have been the girl that was helping me. she is one of the origins, that's why she's been able to preserve herself for so long. she got it directly from the lake. she is talking to J and Kc and some of my other friends; I see the black spikes on her fingers and I think I run to her. she attacks me and we stumble outside, struggling weakly, both of our bodies wracked with disease. she is angry that I deprived her of some of her prey. I can't let her continue to infect them, my friends and classmates, all oblivious to the threat. I push her out into the road and she falls there. a car is coming. the driver knows what she is, they will try to hit her. at the last moment, I pull her out of the way. the car comes back, and for some reason, I cannot bear to let this happen to her so I drag her back inside. her body is deteriorating rapidly now, and she simply lays there, face down on the rug, her hair spread out around her. she moans, and grasps at my ankles, but I am quicker, and I stumble out of reach. I go looking for J again, hoping to find him before I turn into one of them. I see him there, standing with all of my dearest friends. J turns and smiles at me, but before I reach them, I wake.