September 8th, 2004


(no subject)

I hate driving when it rains. I just had a major freakout and a near miss that I'm not ready to talk about. I don't think the first day of school would have been as horrible without it.
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Published Bush/Kerry fic. (In the New Yorker!) I think I wet my pants laughing.
Donald and I were clutching each other’s shoulders, hopping up and down, squealing, wondering which of us he’d choose. “Oh, but you’re so much smarter and tougher,” I insisted. “But you were a cheerleader,” he told me, ruefully. “That’s true,” I admitted, trying not to sound smug. “Stop smiling like that,” Donald snapped, grabbing the pictures back.

In other obnoxious news, I can't believe that my English teacher wants us to write the last two lines of a Shakespeare sonnet. As if I could actually write anything that could come close. *cries and feels inferior*

stolen from caecilia
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    cranky cranky