Location: At my desk
Music: Deep by Nine Inch Nails
Mood: Agitated

So, I just had a fight with one of my closest friends. Fuck.

The beginning was this. I needed to know where the tournament was; I basically have the fast food chains of most schools in the area inputted into my head, and I needed to know where I'd be eating on Saturday. And here came the reply:

"Dunno. lol."

Something snapped in me.

If you know who I am, then you know exactly who I had a fight with.

Yup. My debate partner.

I guess I always felt guilty to Ian. Everytime we didn't do well, I always blamed myself. I'm weighing him down, I thought. It's my fault we didn't do so well. I should have done better. It's me.

The year came and went. I went off to university; and away from the midst of things, I began to learn something.

Maybe... just maybe... it wasn't my fault?

Mr. Clark never tries, and I can understand why. In a way he's a complex creature, but in so many ways he's excessively immature. Because he cannot handle defeat, he refuses to try; that way he always has the excuse "I didn't try hard, so I didn't do so well. If I try hard, I can do this."

I'd know. I used to do that. And the awful thing is... the longer you say it, the longer that "not-trying failure me" gets stuck, and when you do try you fail anyway. And then what are you going to do?

He's brilliant, I'll give that to anyone. But he's wasting talent that I have craved, the talent that no matter how hard I tried, I could not achieve. It's almost like you're starving, and you're seeing through a window a guy who has a basket full of food and is purposefully throwing it away.

And THAT... just pissed me OFF.

Something snapped in me, and every agonizing jealousy I felt, that insane, gripping obsession, burst from the deepest hole I kept it shut in, and poured over me like some kind of acidic rain. Out of my mind tumbled out the harshest words I ever knew, the most painful phrases one can say to anyone.

Despite my constant whining and moaning about my classes, I am actually at where I want to be. My life is half-set. I will qualify as a physician, become one of the respected human beings who will know power, respect, and wealth.

But it didn't come easy. I begged, cried, cheated, stole, worked for it.

Actually, everything I have I've begged, cried, cheated, stole, and worked for.

He's just drifting through. And despite the fact that he has done well so far, there is always a big hole somewhere dug deeply into the earth. And while someone like I can climb up and hobble on because I've fallen over so many times that I'm just used to it, people like him aren't. They fall, because everyone does, and then they can't climb up.

But gah! I screwed up. And currently I'm so overwhelmed with schoolwork that I don't even know where to begin the patching.

Actually, right now, I really don't feel like it either. Hopefully he'll become hurt enough to actually start working...

Location: On my bed
Music: She Moves by Karaja
Mood: KNACKERED

As I look back at this semester, I have to say ONE thing... it went by with a WHOOSH. It just went by. And as we learned knew bitterness, loneliness, joy and victory, we grew up just a little bit.

Each day passed with me learning something new about myself; my weaknesses, my strength, just me. I cried. I laughed.

And here I am...

After the final and rather traumatizing session with none other than Dr. David Payne Esq (no, he's not an esquire, I just tagged that on), I am FINALLY FINISHED with Mammalian Biology, since I'm going home next Friday and I'll be at Fenwick around this time (YEAH!). Let's see. What was so traumatizing today?

Oh, I remember now. The fact that people use (or used) yogurt as contraceptive.

Now I can't eat yogurt.

"Now, Dr. Fashionista, how on earth do you use yogurt as a contraceptive?" You might ask. Alas, dear readers, it's not taken orally.

That's right. You just read that correctly. It's taken... down there.

EWWWWWW!

Not only that, I finally learned why some types of cats yowl at the final moment of sexual intercourse. No, it's not a yowl of pleasure, or protest against the act's finish. Oh no. It's something much... much... worse.... (and if you don't want to read it, I suggest you stop NOW before you sue me).

Apparently, some cats' erectile male reproductive organ (and yes, I could have said that in one word) HAS BARBS AT THE TIP.

OUCH!

And... well, that's why the female cat yowls. It's nothing but a screaming agony of pain (and any woman would be screaming too, if that happened to them).

So that was the extent of my education in mammalian biology. I think I just wasted 10 weeks worth of lecture time...