THE Question

Day 2 (for me) and I have 39 minutes as of right now before it's tomorrow. Or will it be today...today is yesterday's tomorrow.

Anyways. I had double rehearsal again today. Symphony concert is tomorrow and it might get snowed out because it's blizzarding AGAIN!! Thrice in two weeks. That's good old SoDak for ya huh.

So I'm a senior right. And it's April which means less than two months before graduation. Which ALSO means that everybody I talk to is asking THE question. If you're a senior or have ever been a senior you (you being my invisible audience again) know what THE question is, but in case you don't I will tell you. THE question is: "So what college are you going to?"
The answer? "I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA!!!"
THE question just keeps coming and coming and coming and I'm starting to snap at people when they ask like it's their fault I don't know what I want to do with my life yet.
And to make things worse I got my rejection letter from Swarthmore which is where I really Really REALLY wanted to go. It must be the most perfect place ever. But they don't want me. So I guess I don't want them. BUT nobody understands that when you rejected from the most perfect place ever you DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT! Both of my parents and my uncle have said "Oh, sorry you didn't get into Swarthmore," and everyone else has been asking if I got in. Hey, if I got in I would let you know, and if not I clearly don't want to talk about. Thanks for pouring salt in the wound. And on my parents part-I can tell they aren't as sorry as they seem. They are secretly doing a jig because it means that a) they don't have to pay so much my education and b) I won't be going to the "other side of the country" (if there is another side when you're right smack dap in the middle). So thanks for pretending to be supportive mom and dad, but you can stop now. Just tell me the truth. I swear I can handle it. Promise.

Well I think that's enough of a rant for today. I have rehearsal again at 1 tomorrow. That is if it isn't snowed out. And there are 14 minutes left for day 2/3 of BEDA.

Maybe tomorrow I'll start making a list of my pet peeves. Yes? Why not.

Sorry nonexistant reader if none of this makes sense. I write how I think. I think spastically. My English teacher hates it.

Without you, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.
-"Without You" Rent

I didn't see him for a week.