How do I feel? Like killing someone......

  To those of you who don't know; I row, or crew, or scull, or whatever you know it as. I row a double, meaning TWO people. We have 8's and 4's and the like too. Last week my other person NEVER came to practice and then expected me to hop into a boat with her after a week of sitting on my ass in the coaches’ launch... Not. Gonna. Happen. Thankfully they canceled our race. Nut now, this very weekend, we are attending the largest regatta of our season, with 42 boats in our race as opposed to the norm of two boats including us, and she won't listen to me. I hold the seat of power in the boat, aka bow seat. I steer, I call commands. Stroke seat is supposed to keep their eyes in the boat, face forward, mouth shut and set the pace for our race. I know what you’re thinking; WHAT'S THE POINT?! Here it is.

   Yesterday we head downstairs for practice. We get the boat, get on the water and everything is fine and dandy. "From now on Anna," I hear from the front of the boat, "We aren't going to say anything but port, starboard, or power ten." I got that sinking feeling. "WE?" I was ready to turn s around in a flash if she so much as gave me an unwanted seat movement. (This power struggle has been going a while. Can you tell?) "Well I mean you. I'm stroke seat. I'm not supposed to talk." YES! BREAK THROUGH! I was happier than a bird with a French fry as I rowed us up to our starting point. I turned and we began our race piece. I began to sense something was off, but I thought it was just the fact that something is always off and I was just used to it. But then... "Anna," She said turning around backwards to face me, "You need to lay back." The race pace went down to more of a lazy, 'Oh look, NATURE!' style rowing. I grudgingly responded and began to lay back more wincing at the pain it created in my lower back.

   The practice wore on. Every few minutes I would get a new gem of information that I apparently didn't know even though I've been rowing longer. I was learning all kinds of new things! Like the fact that Stern and Bow apparently switched places while I wasn't looking, as she now seemed to think SHE was in the power seat. We growled and bickered and bitched till the end of the practice. When we finally got back to the dock and got it end I thought it was all over. I was wrong... SO WRONG.

    When walking a boat in to our bay and onto its rack, one must walk it in BOW FIRST. The riggers, aka the things that hold the oars, are behind me. I cannot see them, unless I sprout an eye in the back of my head. As I'm walking I hear this wonderful noise echoing through our extremely expansive fiberglass hull; KUR-THUNK. I hear another coxswain try and laugh it off but my partner decides to blame me. I hear this conversation behind me (yes I have bleeped her name);

Coxswain: I saw that M****!

M****: "M****!? ANNA CAN TILT JUST LIKE I CAN!"

   Is it son unobvious to her that I don't have eyes in the back of my head? REALLY?!? I had had enough. I yelled over my shoulder that I couldn't really see the riggers and if we were going to hit something she needed to tell me and this is the response I get: "Whatever Anna, What. Ever."

    **UPDATE**: I may end up in jail guys. She confronted me about it at school today. Apparently it "isn't my job" to confront the coach about problems she and I obviously can't solve together. I may just take her down after school today.

And here comes the......

Angst. I was too nervous and embarrassed. Why? Well we were not only surrounded by the whole teams parents but my mom was watching from the car. Literally WATCHING. So there's that. And now, for more angst. Every time something goes fantastic, something goes lovely, or something goes right in my world; something catastrophic happens. So this month has been wonderful. No APR's, 2 silver medals, the best boyfriend in the world, and my normal family was back. Last night my world crumbled. It was 8 dinner had just finished and I had restarted on my homework when I heard the yelling. No not yelling, screaming. "Fuck this, fuck you, and fuck everything!" My father continuously repeated this sentence. Soon it got worse. I went and hid in my bath room, it's the only place you can't hear or see them, sat down and started to talk to people. Anyone who could or would talk. I heard him. In my sanctuary, my safe place. He had infiltrated it, and I was not about to have it. I got up and stormed out, determined to do this. He yelled at me and I yelled back and before my brain even had time to think my hand hit his face and the slap echoed around the now silent house. I felt as though I was free of this perpetual anger I had been wadding up since last September. Finally he knew EXACTLY how I felt. The fight continued on for hours. 10:30 finally rolled around and dad came downstairs again, this time calm. We talked. He told me how proud he was of me. I had stood up to him for the first time in my life. I still feel like angsty shit though

PSAT, Fall Break, Grades... Oh what is a private school girl to do?

lsakdjfhskljhfasd... That means "hi" in I-took-the-PSAT-this-morning-ese. My brain is fried. The only thought I've had all day is the notion of how close it is to crew time, which in turn makes me nervous. Why? Well it's been a month and this is probably the most serious relationship I've ever had (comparitive to both my boyfriends and girlfriends) so I'm taking the next step. Today at crew I'll be kissing Mr. Awesome. No, no. No kiss-n-tell. Just look for the post that's all jibberish or all angst depending on how it goes.

   Tomorrow is my last day of school before Fall Break. I have Friday and Monday off......... What a break..... The best part? I have NO plans. I'm with my grandma the whole time. Someone in my Spanish class is flying down to Mexico in her family's private jet, someone else is going to California. I'm staying here. I'll do homework during the day and star gaze at night I suppose. Maybe I'll sleep outside. The weather's finally nice enough. My grades come out next week too. Goody. Say bye bye to your friendly neighborhood blogger. I'll probably be out of commission for a while. These won't be pretty.

Super happy but unfortunatly also super sick

I'm sitting here in PJ's. My glasses are hiding the deep black circles under my eyes from my eyeliner and the fact I couldn't sleep last night thanks to not being able to breathe. But I still happy. Why? Because I had a fantastic day yesterday. I saw an old friend. I drove for the first time since recieving my learners. I spent 8 fantastic hours with Mr. Awesome and I have not stop smiling since. Even when I collapsed and passed out I had a smile on my face. Even though I would love to be at school and crew today, I'm content laying here. For now. But I can tell you that right now I'm definitly the happiest and the luckiest girl on the planet and that won't be changing anytime soon.

I am....

I am…
Random
Deep
A hopless romantic
Accidently In Love
Just a scared little kid stuck in the adult world
Crazy
Wise
Full of ideas
Sickened at the world
Amazed by the violence in human nature
shocked at how much you lose when you become an adult
never going to grow up

Potassium: I needz it

I woke up this morning with a HORRID sore throat, a pounding head ache, and the nervous shakes. It's going to be a long day.... I arrived at school and while sitting in Spanish class I recieved a horrid surprise when my eye began to twitch in the "I've been staring at my screen while typing and drawing too much in the past twelve hours" aka the crazy ex-girlfirend "if I can't have, him no one can" eye twitch. It's been two hours and every five seconds my eye twitches. It's rather fun to smile at the underclassmen in the halls. They run really fast. Like I'm carrying a knife. Which technically, if you ventured a glance in my back pack you'd fine one on my key ring. None of my friends really seem to have noticed though... which worries me.... since, ya' know, that means they think it looks normal which makes me crazy and weird.... hm....... I'll have a banana at lunch. That'll fix this.... hopefully.....

Worry wart

I'm here at school today, worrying about my dad. My father is a firefighter and I could remember all the times that the static would run through the radio clipped to his belt, afterwards he would run off to grab a bag and run out the door, my mother calling to him to be safe and that she loved him. As a small child the fear never registered. But one night when I was 10, it happened. The radio shot static over the room and out the door my dad ran. It was about 8 pm when this happened and I had never been up past 10, but tonight I would. I waited awake, holding up my tiny head with one fist and flipping between cartoons with the other. I would see dad before I went to bed, I would. I couldn't sleep if I didn't. Midnight rolled around and still no dad. I began to panic. I went to mom and asked her where dad was, the answer of course being "At the fire, baby. They needed his help. He'll be home soon." I walked slowly back to my room, my mind going 100 miles a minute. The next day was Saturday and when I woke up, I saw dad. He was home. Finally. My brain started to rest, but then I found out why he had taken so long. To this day this story is still the most terrifying thing I can imagine, it sends shivers down my spine. He was at the fire, which turned out to be an arson, while they were putting it out the man who started it was being searched for by the police. Little did they know he was just under their noses, a top a hill across the street, with his shotgun by his side. He was ready to make this situation much worse. To those of you who don't know, firefighters wear the SCBA's like a scuba diver, they are compressed oxygen and therefore not only HIGHLY flammable but also extremely explosive. My dad had just come out of the building and had gone behind the truck so he could hide from the blaze and cool down a bit. He had been on the front lines for nearly two hours. As he stood behind the truck, his back to the hill, he removed his mask. A shotgun was leveled, it was focused in on the firefighter behind the truck. His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to fire. A paramedic came to check my father for smoke inhalation. The shooter had it planned perfectly. The explosion from that firefighter's SCBA would spark the truck's gas tank and everyone would go up. The police man, the firefighters, the medics, and the innocent bystanders gathered around. A bullet sped down through the air, my father hit the ground the paramedic to his right. A bullet hole now graced the side of the new fire truck. The shooter was apprehended shortly after. Everyone went home safe. He's not out there anymore as we have just received a new Volkswagen plant and they needed a fire chief, but I still worry everyday that he leaves for work.

Lord of the Smells

Tenth Grade English required in class book: Lord of The Flies

    We just finished reading this...... *eh-hum* INTERESTING..... book. And as we sit here discussing it I am distracted by the smell. Yes the smell. Old books, mingled with mint (love to know where this one came from), a strange sweet smell, and the smell as though someone brought in a pregnant feral raccoon and rubbed it on every flat surface and then left poor Porkie, this is what I named my imaginary raccoon friend, in the cupboard under the shelf in the back so she could have her babies in "peace". I wish I knew exactly what it was... It's very interesting. I have a feeling it's coming from two rooms over where the other day my New Testament teacher left her window open over the weekend and a cat showed up, climbed in and PEED on EVERYTHING. My teacher then decided to attempt to cover up the smell by bringing in flowers. Not just any flowers either. Huge, smelly flowers. Sickly sweet smelling flowers plus feral cat pee ends up making a class of 13 girls feel very sick and begging you to let them leave class. So teachers please remember don't cover up feral cat pee smell in your room with flowers. Your class will thank you.

WARNING: DEEP POST!

It's early. Too early. I'm sitting in my religion class, praying for the bell. I don't know why we have to take this stupid class... It's not a big deal or required in colledge. I would know. I made sure to research it. I found that unless you're planning on going to bible colledge or majoring in religion or something of the sort THEN and only then would you need this class. I go to a private school that likes to focus on gender idenity as laid out by the Bible. So I began to think; Why would we focus on this? Why can't we just be who we want to be? I have several friends that are girls and would perfer to be a boy, and know too many boys to count who wish they were girls. So why do we have to know what the gender we were born with is sterotyped to do? Women are sterotyped into cooking, cleaning, having and raising children; but I don't want that. I don't want to be a stay home mom with three kids a white picket fence, 2 dogs, and a husband with no flaws. I want adversity. I want to work. I want to help my husband (or wife. Whatever what happens, happens right?) save the money for our kids colledge. I want to show the world that this tiny southern girl can handle it. That I don't need anyone to protect me. I'm a big girl now. But I'm not rushing a head of my life. I have school to focus on, my art, my social life, my sport, and the thing that makes my world go round? my Wesley. It's three weeks today, and some people say I'm moving too fast. But he makes my day. I don't think I've ever smiled this much. Thanks hun. You're amazing.

Here. Goes. Nothing.

   I'm new at this so it'll take me a bit to get in the groove, please be patient. I've been posting notes and writing and arguing stuff for forever. I have finally made a blog. Finally. Since this is my opening post it won't be deep or anything. So instead all be nice and funny. I guess I'll just vary posts and I'll be posting several times a day. So yeah. here goes nothing and be warnned I have a sick twisted sense of humor.
       So that we can get to know each other I'm going to write a post about me, and then you can shoot me an email or comment and tell me about you.This way you'll know me and I'll know you and we'll be comfortable with each other.  HI, I'm Anna and I've been addicted to nerds for three years now. If could I'd be nerdy ALL THE TIME. But I can't. Because I have school. So basiclly. I have no life. I am about as dorky as they come. This includes the typical love of Harry Potter, the nerdly love of all things Science related, but then factor in my strange friends and strangeness and you get a love of dinosaurs and zombies. Thus here I am. On Rainbow Zombie Burps. Which came from no where. Well, it came from somewhere just not somewhere important my story.So there's my story. One more post today. Though it's not very fun. It's more.... serious/deep. So yeah.