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23 February 2008


I wrote my speech about DNA in a span of five hours, with four hours to spare. It turned out to be thirty seconds too long and way better than the other speeches, despite my lack of preparation. I was set to go last on the first day of "Speech Week," but I was somewhere in the middle because people are so immature as to skip class because they didn't write their speeches. Sick. So I told my class about how we are all connected by our DNA, and damn it, that's interesting! They totally could not have cared less, and it was awesome.
We have to do peer evaluations, and I hate them. When I am up there talking about whatever, I don't want to see people picking up pens and writing things. I want to know what they're writing!

I was supposed to have a draft of my research paper finished last Wednesday, but having been unable to find the perfect thesis, I couldn't do it. I have had a month to write this paper, but I haven't had any good ideas so far. I was too stressed and upset last week to really concern myself with the paper, but I did it anyway. I sat there watching all my time tick away while hopelessly losing any measure of serenity I could have hoped for. It was awful. The next day I started feeling ill, and I had a math test. It was awful still.
Now I am supposed to be writing that paper, but I still lack any useful ideas. I know I can write the paper in the short amount of time, but I have no purpose. I can usually write with no direction or purpose and own it, but I am afraid to bullshit Sylvia Plath. I can't write or hand in a bad paper. I won't do it. I am sure I have never understood the purpose of this assignment, and this is why I am having so many problems. I had that meeting with my teacher a while back, and it was supposed to be to discuss my ideas, etc., but I didn't feel any more sure after than I did before.
I am starting to feel really panicky. I don't want to be panicky.
I spent a lot of time doing research yesterday, most of my day in fact, and I still feel like I don't have enough information to write anything. Why must I demand so much of myself? WHY?!

I still feel like I need to shop for things. Small things, new things. I just want things all of a sudden, for no real reason or purpose; I just want them. I have not any idea why.
I do know, however, why I need those red, patent, sling-back pumps: they are adorable. And I have NO red shoes?! None!

My brother bought me a really, really hot pair of shoes. They are delightful, but they pinch in the toes!

I dislike people who think they are more talented than they actually are.

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