Writing to Strangers

I cannot explain the mixture of

anxiety, nausia, nervous-ness, and hype I’m feeling right now. I FEEL LIKE IM OVER PACKING SHIT.

and one ants have invaded my room eating away at the very thin nylon stiches of my cheer clothing. It’s going to be a huge death range in my room tomorrow. Notice: I do not promote this kind of lifestyle, I hate ants, and I hate unkempt areas. SICK SICK SICK

Me and the Vacuum cleaner have a date early mornin’ :]

being sore. It lets me know I’ve actually accomplished something. WHOO HOO!

I will be immobile.

Edit://
10:02 PM

ANYWAYS. First day of cheer practice ended up being something unexpected..Like a surprise party that was well planned. Along with meeting Coach Barns, we had good o’ Assistant coach Den come by and visit only to give us a tear jerking speech on how she was no longer with the cheerleading program. ‘tis quite an upset, my eyes did water. No lie.

Along with a heartfelt and monotoned speech from Coach Barns himself, he comes OUT with the surprise. A test of endurance really, and this test will continue to follow us every 6 weeks. Beccause along with being a cheerleader, Physical ability comes first. WHOOT HOOT DAWG.

Only not really. Seniors opened up with a gay warm up routine, and of course since I was staring off, I told everyone to touch their toes! which was warming us up for the worst 4 hour practice to start off thus far. THEN comes in the jump routines, and a scale, NOT any scale, but the “ability” scale telling us our technique, form, and flexability. 1-10 10 being the best. No one got a 9 or a 10. I did however manage a 7, so YAY! then came in the crunches, the full on ones, you know where someone counts and someones tying you down to the ground, yeah those. THEN WE HAD FOOD! :] best part. but then we had pushups, a mile run, and TUMBLING after running a mile. wonderful.

ANYWAYS
moral of the story is:
Kristina can do a roundoff Toe-touch, kthnx.

This year,

I’m going to:

-Love cheer
-Know a best friend
-Trust people more.
-Accept things I cannot change.
-Show mommy and daddy that their baby girl still loves them.
-Find someone to thread my eyebrows, someone super sanitary. please.
-Not kick Waffle off the bed.

gross look cute.

Envy us. I love Egg fryer shopping dates/ necklace hunting/ outfit matching (by accident)/ mum parties/ baking parties/ jello eating/ salmonella!

I pulled out a really really old diary. It dated back to my elementary years, quite exciting, no? 1. I was a dsylexic child, and spelling was no easy task for me.
2. I was constantly angry when I wrote in this thing, and it was always about the riffs that my brother and I shared…er didn’t want to share.

then I pulled out the one during my middle school transition to high school. I don’t think I’ve read anything sadder than my June 24th 2005 entry.

And I quote

“Linda’s packing, Mommy’s packing, Daddy’s crying, Alex is quite, I’m shaking. I don’t know what to pack, let alone what to do . I’m running, I’m pacing, I’m doing something, I’m writing. I’m letting thoughts run by, and I’m letting memories arise. Stop stop stop. We’re getting in the car now. (3 hours 56 minutes later) It’s not her. it’s not her. Stop talking, it’s not her. Mom stop talking to me, dad stop crying, grandpa stop talking, everyone shut up.

I don’t want to believe you’re dead, because you’re laying right in front of me. You’re not dead. You’re right here, sleeping. You’re not dead. You’re suppose to be okay. You’re not dead. You’re not dead. You’re not dead. just STOP IT. (later that night)

I’m at uncle Dang’s house. I don’t believe them. Kristina…shut up.”

Okay, it may not be tear jerking to you, but it was quite emotional for me.
and although i never had the time to really sit and write something about her, I just wanted to remember this and only this, I love you, as much as you loved me, and I promise promise promise to make you happy.

You

1. Thank you for picking up your phone in the odd hours of the night to leave stupid comments on people’s pages with. Thank you for searching up stupid war quotes with me, supressing whatever angry thought we had before, and for painting pictures with me, even if you end up having a tumor in your legs and I have crooked arms. Thank you for being the friend that I’ve wanted for so so long.

2.Thank you for letting me live at your place 24/7 from good days and bad days. Thank you for being the twin that’s made every problem seem so little and so easy to get over. Thank you for your carefree air and your spontaneous fun.

3. Thank you for your random texts that get my phone taken up. Thank you for your 1 A.M visits, your contagious laughter, your awful jokes, your warm hugs and your loving personality. Thank you for being you.

4. Thank you for your opinions, your agreement, even when things aren’t suppose to be agreed on. Thanks for the style checks, the good talks, the odd gossip, the blunt edge the everything.

5. and I’d like to thank you for love.

I’m in a good mood. Don’t ruin it.

typically don’t like it when they see their daughters develope the ability to control their own lives, to live independently. It turns them into spectators, watching as their daughter lives.

I try to incorporate my father in the parts of my life, but I think to make the seperation between us a bit easier, he’s being mean so that things like these won’t hurt as much when I walk out that door.

I’m sorry dad.