I do what I do, baby.

My skin feels sticky. Sticky upon sticky. Outside in the sweltering sun, the heat leaves me sweaty and frizzy-haired. Inside in the air conditioned car or house, I dry, sticky with sweat. Outside again, heat again. Repeat. Repeat.

Other than that, I feel alright. Yes, vague adjective. But the feeling is vague. Staring at the word vague, makes me think of the word vagina and plague. In my world, the word vague would mean a vagina plague. I'm unsure if there would be a something plaguing the vagina or if the vagina was plaguing something else. I'll keep you updated on the details.

Today I've successfully gone out to eat with Monica and Cristina at McAlister's Deli.

Oh. Wait. Should there be more? Because that's all I have to offer.

Now Monica and I are in the same room on our respective laptops.

Welcome to the exciting life of Kristine. I'm really not as spiteful as I sound, I swear. I'm actually quite content.

Orientation's coming up next week. I'll be there the entire week probably, picking classes and picking the direction of my life. No biggie really.

"Labels for this post: e.g. scooters, vacation, fall"
Who writes about scooters? I can see vacation being a topic. And by fall, do they mean autumn or is it more of a fall down the stairs kind of thing?

I think the reason I have trouble with narrative style of writing lately is because nothing is really happening. I guess that's not true, because when something did happen, I was still only able to write how I felt and not of what actually happened. My head automatically tagged it as a defense mechanism, but that's just the psychiatrist in me talking. And automatically afterwards, disregarded the idea. All in all, what can be taken from this series of thoughts is that I'm really fucking weird.

I just got my letter from the Engineering program explaining that I have to write a thank you to those providing my scholarship. In other words, I must contrive another BS compilation of what I've done throughout my high school career alongside another BS thank you to someone I could care less about. I suppose I should be thankful. They are providing me a doorway to a higher education. Or something like that.

I was watching some show about starting college on TV the other day. No, it wasn't that god-awful Greek show, idealizing the fraternity/sorority aspect of college. It was something on The-N. And surprisingly, it was actually somewhat relatable. Take that, sitcoms of the past. Unfortunately, someone died in the show, so I'm hoping it isn't completely relatable to. And someone had to die -- as relatable as it may be, it is still on TV. Sensationalism, folks. Is that even sensationalism? I'm pretty sure sensationalism involved the news media & tabloids. Aka Yellow Journalism. Wikipedia that shit. Yeah, that's my history term for the week. Funny how the only time I've used that tidbit of knowledge has been in a blog. I suppose that says something about all we've learned at school. Makes it all seem worthless. In reality, it's what we do with said knowledge. God, that's pretty cliche, even for me.

I should probably learn to be brief. Which brings to mind two things for me:
-- A cutout from a newspaper hanging on my wall of Shakespeare in his briefs with a speaking bubble saying "'Tis better to be brief"
-- My former AP English teacher, Mrs. Langford who preached that "Brevity is your enemy."

Huh. Those sort of contradict each other, don't they?

My father just said in a sort of obnoxious accent, "I beat you in all the games." Then there was the resounding and ever-present "You lil nasty." They're playing the Wii, if I forgot to mention that little tidbit of information.

We might head to Bagheri's tonight, which will be delightful since I haven't been there since they moved. I ought to cash one of my checks though. I'm awful broke.

Bye, Graduation money, ta. It was good while you lasted.