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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig</id>
  <title>My Mind Works Like Lightning, One Brilliant Flash and it's Gone</title>
  <subtitle>Ashley</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Ashley</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2006-04-24T02:37:49Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="4652309" username="soechtig" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:7422</id>
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    <title>Parents</title>
    <published>2006-04-24T02:37:49Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-24T02:37:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I hate my father. Though I've spoken of this before in my journal, I feel a second rant is necessary. He makes me feel like I'm nothing. Like I'm just some accident that he's had to deal with for 17 years. He stops at nothing to tell me how lazy, fat or useless I am. But the worst, is having a parent tell you that no matter how hard you try, you'll never amount to fraction of what they are. And hearing that from my father, is just telling me that no matter what, I will fail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father is nothing without my mother. She's the sole provider, she is the only means of support for what I do and the only thing that keeps me going now other then Conor. I don't know what I would do without my mother. She's the only one that has ever really supported me, ever congradulated me to the point where I felt like I actually did something right. When I'm sick, she stopped at nothing to make me better. My father? He was the one in the corner, mocking me or rolling his eyes at my mother's coddling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have only a few months left in this house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were more then just a failure to my father. I don't know why I'm such a disappointment, either. He loves his dog, his stupid misbehavied fucking dog, more then me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can someone amount to anything knowing that they rank below a pet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel safe here either. There's not a doubt in my mind that if he had the chance, he'd hurt me. I wish he would. Then, maybe my mother will see him for what he really is.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:6984</id>
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    <title>College</title>
    <published>2006-04-08T05:27:22Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-08T05:27:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This past few days I've been visiting the University of Colorado and it's finally starting to sink in... I'm almost there. In 6th grade I was counting down the days, and now it's but a few short months away. It's surreal almost. I'm so excited, but petrified all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if my roommate is ultra left-wing? Or, extremely religious? Or anti-God? I'm not going to have the courage or the heart to get a transfer. I can't rush until the spring... I dont know if I can handle 6 months of possible hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my biggest concern is Conor. My heart can't handle 4 years seperation. Part of me is happy because I want him to experience women outside me. I wouldn't be suprised that at 40 with 2 kids he may not start to wonder if he made a mistake, any guy might... I think this would avoid that situation... And I've seen the men at CU and it won't be hard to find someone to pass the time, but 4 years? I'm so happy with him, I can't imagine life without him. It would be like a void in my heart, as horribly cliche as that is. My biggest fear, of course, is him finding someone better. Someone prettier. Someone thinner. Someone smarter. The thought of something so heartbreaking brings tears to my eyes. I don't want to stay together because I know that will just cause even more heartache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are supposed to be the happiest years of my life. But how can I enjoy it when someone I love so much is in another state?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:6893</id>
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    <title>Visiters</title>
    <published>2006-01-02T07:16:34Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-02T07:16:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My head is pulsating. My whole body is sore. And I have several more days to endure of this torturous hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the second christmas we've had to share with the halacs, and it will be my last. Their twin children are now 11, an age in which you begin to start the maturity process. An age where looking cool is the ultimate objective in any given situation. These two run around screaming (pretending they're dogs sometimes, but usually just because they can) and still go into a fit of endless giggles at the word 'sex'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother, however, feels there's no reason a 17 and 18 year old shouldn't play (happily) with two screaming 11 year old boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wouldn't be as bad, except for neither Conor nor I can have any 'me time' without resulting in a talk about behaving 'unacceptably'. If we so much as grimace as the sound of their high pitched voices, we're immediatly engulfed by a series of empty threats and obsenities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, the twins aren't the only hair raising member of the family. The mother is possibly worse. I guess in Europe, there's no concept subtlty. So, if ever a reason, I'll be bumbarded with comments insulting my eating habits, hygein, attitude, or even the way I blink. On top of that, if there ever be an opportunity, she will make herself the subject of discussion. So, if she's bored with someone elses conversation, there's no sense in waiting, instead, she'll interrupt with a completely new topic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, just because it'll add a lovely twist, Chris is in town.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:6583</id>
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    <title>College Essays</title>
    <published>2005-09-30T21:56:58Z</published>
    <updated>2005-09-30T21:56:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Discuss an activity, interest, experience, or achievement in your life (this could be a book, movie, or an activity or experience at work, home, or school) that has been particularly meaningful for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought they'd be so hard, especially since the questions are so broad. I think I've spent 36 hours total trying to think of a topic or look for inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things in my life have been meaningful to me. Conor probably has been the most, followed by my cats. But I don't know how impressed the admissions board would be with an essay about a boyfriend or a few pets. I don't know what made me want to become a Doctor other then loving science and wanting a job where I go home thinking I've actually made a difference in someone's life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tip on 1 of the hundreds of websites I've browsed looking for help told me to think of some of my best qualities first. Well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can make friends pretty easily. &lt;br /&gt;Have a very good judge of character, though I don't hold someone to it, just in case I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I try not to handle a seemingly bad situation with a bad attitude. "Whether you think you can, or you think you can't, you're absolutly right"&lt;br /&gt;Average is never good enough&lt;br /&gt;I like knowing why. "It just does" is not an acceptable answer&lt;br /&gt;When I fuck up, I figure out why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really think of any more. I'll probably have Conor help me with that. Anyway, then I'm supposed to pick the best and think of a situation in my life where I showed that quality the most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom gave an interesting suggestion, maybe discuss moving around so much. But I don't really see how that was meaningful to me. It was a good thing, taught me how to adapt to new surroundings and how to make friends quickly, but not 'meaningful'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Lizzie deteriorate in front of my eyes was pretty meaningful actually. Here I saw this pretty, smart, girl who had so much potential completely throw her life away. She's destroyed her brain and her body, lord knows how many diseases he has and no one has any respect for her and probably never will. I quess it was a bit of a wake up call for me since I was heading down that path, but I saw what was happening and I didn't want it. I want to make something of myself, not a bunch of illigitimate kids. I want people to look up at me, not down. I remember her trying so hard to get attention, and everyone's look of disgust. Whenever you mention her name at Waterford, everyone's eyes roll. It scared the hell out of me. Is that what I want the risk of becoming? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I could write about that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably pushing it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could make it sound like that was my reason for getting my grades up. Though in a way, it probably was part of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm. I may be on to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad I still have 4 other college essay's to write.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:6333</id>
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    <title>Rumors</title>
    <published>2005-09-28T18:16:19Z</published>
    <updated>2005-09-28T18:16:19Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've had rumors spread about me before, and they've always been something petty like 'Ooo Ashley likes Adam! Hehehe!'. It spreads. It sucks. It's gone in 48 hours. They're also usually based on something true but due to either bad assumptions or even just mishearing, they morph into something else. Like 'Jane was talking to Mary, and Cassie over heard her say 'Bob' and 'sex''. Next thing you know, Cassie spreads around that Mary wants to have sex with Bob. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are reputation ruining rumors, something I've never had to really deal with before, and never thought I would. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I think it's funny. How little of a life can someone possess that they find it necessary to spread lies about someone they don't even know? Especially someone new, who has enough trouble trying to fit to school where everyone's known each other since the beginning of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it stops being funny when everyone, even people you don't know, look down at you because of something they were told. Or when you feel like you have to sit alone at lunch because everyone will look at you with accusitory eyes. It's worse when you don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slut. Or in some cases, a rich spoiled slut. I don't know who started it. I don't know how it happened. All I can say is that I'm not. I've never slept around, I never will. I lost my virginity to someone I loved and have said no several times. I've never compromised my morals, and have broken relationships when they tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have money, but I don't flaunt it. I even have a job so I don't have to spend my parents money now or when I go to college.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:5728</id>
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    <title>soechtig @ 2005-07-21T22:59:00</title>
    <published>2005-07-22T05:07:50Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-22T05:07:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Why is it my journal, or 'blog' as we seem to call it now, is the only one in existance that isn't full of melodramatic entries crying about how my insides are being ripped apart by the evil of the supposed outside forces? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I shouldn't really be one to talk, since I did go through a terrible few months where everything I saw was a few shades darker. I guess the only difference is when I did vent all my little angries, I did it in privacy and kept it that way. All these emo entries are just pathetic attempts at sounding like a modern day Sylvia Plath (Who, let's not forget, commited suicide) calling for attention so other people think that they're deep and talented. But really, they've just used a somewhat clever analogy and a few big words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God... Just once I want real talent to present itself. Not melodramatic emo wannabe crap that begs for attention.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:5618</id>
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    <title>Stories</title>
    <published>2005-07-07T05:35:36Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-07T05:35:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I have two different stories on here, plus one of sarahs. I'm far too lazy to retype them... so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: hey! really sry i had to hang up on you.... but i broke my phone and the spkr part is the only part that works... and alex was getting into the car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so what's your story?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Hahaha okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So it was fourth of July at like 1200 am (so I guess technically the 5th but whatever)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And we decided to do our fireworks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Now my condo is an area of 90% renters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: In fact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Probably more then taht&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And if they own, they're retired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So basically, we didn't think that 10 minutes of fireworks were going to bother anyone on a national holiday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And it wasn't that late&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So we set off like 5 and this guy comes out and asks 'are you guys gunna be doing this all night?' (are you kidding?) and we sort of looked at him a little dumbfounded and my mother said 'no, we'll be here like 10 minutes, 15 tops' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Then he said 'You know it's a little late to do this' and like 3 of us said 'it's the 4th of july!' and he snaps 'technically it's the 5th, that's how late it is'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So we just shouted back, 'look, we won't be that long, we promise'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And we weren't. We didn't have that many&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: K&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So like 4 minutes later this guy comes stomping out again telling us to stop, only he started with 'you know, this is pretty fucking obnoxious, it's very late' and we're like 'Dude, I'm sorry, it's only been 5 minutes and we're almost done!' and then he continued to tell us to fuck off, go to hell, etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: how old was he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Like 45 or 50&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Well... I don't like that. I mean, it's a god damn holiday, no one else was complaining, and actually some people came out to watch us, so just out of instinct I shot back 'Hey fuck off asshole, it's the 4th of july'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: He shouted back 'fuck you' so then after my mother yelled at me my dad started yelling at him to tell him to back off, there are kids present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And he just said 'oh fuck you, you arrogent bastard'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: what a dick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And I don't help myself. I honestly don't know where it came from and just started yelling at this ass hole and swearing at him, my parents are like right there threatening me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So after he ended with 'you asshole' he went back inside, and we just all looked at each other and burst out laughing and then continued shooting off fireworks until we were done lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so yeah, did i ever finish my story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: okay, so i told you that today i was supposed to have a chat with alex's mom, with him present, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Right &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: okay, so she wants to talk to me because, unlike some of alex's more polite and slightly spineless friends, i refuse to sit down and talk to her for two hours when i'm there to see alex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: this is the woman who, unless she actually goes out of her house, is woken up by the phone ringing every day and talks pretty much until she goes back to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: which pisses me off, but that's another story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so anyway, alex called her abt two weeks ago when we were on our way to his place from my house, just to let her know we were gonna be there fairly shortly\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and all of a sudden she started bitching about me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: now, this woman absolutely screams into the phone. i could clearly hear both sides of that conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and basically she got angry and banned me from her house  because she thought i was being rude to her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: which is bull shit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: every time i walked into that house and she didn't have the damn phone glued to her ear, i said hello before we went into alex's room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: but she got pissed and told alex i wasn't allowed in the house any more, until we all sat down and talked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i was supposed to do that when i went over today but i couldn't bring myself to do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: the thought of talking to that woman for any length of time literally makes me shudder, never mind that i have absolutely no respect for her as a person&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so i knocked on his door, told him i wouldn't do it, and went back to my car. i guess he talked to her for a couple minutes and she said we'd take care of it when alex and i got back from boston&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i don't know what she wants to take care of or how she thinks it's gonna get done, cause i've pretty much decided that i won't talk to her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so yeah, that's pretty much my story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Good lord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she's nuts and i hate her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: She sounds awful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i mean hell, she made such a huge deal about never getting to see alex when he was in orlando, and now that he needs to take a year and live there to get himself together financially, she's charging him rent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Are you kidding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: god, i have never disliked anyone as much as i dislike this woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and i have such a hard time even talking to her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i have no respect for her, and people really have to do a lot for me to finally lose even that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: I don't like her and I don't know her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: What a bitch&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Why doesn't he live with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: my mom won't let him. she didn;t have a problem with him being here on weekends, but she won't let him stay permanently. we actually haven't told her he's moving back yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Ah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i dunno if she'll get pissed cause he'll be here to distract me or cause he wasn't as careful with money as he should have been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Hm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: How was he not careful? Just didn't keep track?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: kinda. spent a little more than he should have, never got himself a steady job.... typical college freshman mistakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Yeah I'll end up doing that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: unfortunatly he was in $500 a month campus affiliated housing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: he's gonna look for another place to stay down here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: I still can't imagine why his mother would charge him rent&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: of course, the last time he started preparing to move out his mother went nuts on him and he had to call the cops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she's a bitch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and she won't get herself a job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she claims she's looking, but she looks on job-hunting websites when she can't sleep at like 4 am and thinks that's enough. she's such a fucking hypocrit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So how does she pay for anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she has money from alimony that alex's dad is paying her, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Oh &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: plus money that her parents left her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: How much would she charge him a month&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: $200, plus she's making him get cable internet so he won't bitch at her for being on the phone 24/7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: oh, even better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: they started arguing about something once, i think about the terms of alex having guests in his room. logically, one would think that since he's paying rent he could pretty much do as he pleased as long as it's legal and not disturbing the rest of the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: but then she came back and said "No, you're not really paying rent. You're paying me what you'll cost me in extra utilities bills"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: or something to that effect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Jesus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: she actually had the gall to say to him the other day "When you said you were coming back i thought i'd have my son back, not some renter"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: it's so frustrating to deal with her. she needs so much professional help. and the best part is that she's actually a trained... either &lt;br /&gt;psychiatrist or psychologist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Oh wow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Kinda ironic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i know. it would be pretty if she wasn't crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: argh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and you know what's even more horrible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: the fact that i honestly think his life would be a billion times easier if the whole xmas debacle had been a serious suicide attempt and not an attention-getting ploy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: which is kinda sick, i know&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Yeah but its sicker to fake it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: isn't it though?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and normally i would feel kinda bad that she doesn't really have the money to get help, i don't cause it's her own damn fault&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: not only that, i was with alex that whole time.... at the hospital, when he went to pick her up from the outpatient psych center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: everything. and then that day when we got back, she had the nerve to say things to him like "Her family is stealing you away from me" and "She won't even look at me now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: i had to go sit outside the door so i wouldn't walk into the room they were in and beat her to death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: My god...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: and that whole xmas thing is pretty much what made me lose my respect. i mean, who does that to their kid? On Christmas? And i think i already told you my theory that i think she waited till we were there to set herself up, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: lol, well, you can meet her at the wedding and we can play &lt;br /&gt;practical jokes on her.... like, years from now&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: lol yay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: so i never did ask you abt your LV trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: how was that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: It was great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: lol wanna hear a funny but gross for others to hear story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: Mmmkay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So we went over to the gym because he was complaining about having not been for so long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And we got in there and it was sorta dumb. But we were horny and there was no one in the gym&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: But we decided to spare anyone that might come in, and go inthe bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So yeah... then like 10 minutes later someone came into the gym. We were like, whatever, they can't hear us. Then they knocked on the door. Mood... dead. We told them to go away. But it was like a security hotel person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And they wouldn't leave!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: We could hear their little walkie talkie thing outside the bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And he wasn't doing anything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So we're wondering 'fuck, is this illegal or something?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: So finally we came up with some stupid excuse of 'er.... hi... my um... girlfriend is kinda sick, where can we get like... pepto or something?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: OMG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: The guy just looked at us like 'ha-I-caught-you!' and basically just told us to leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: that's awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: lol when we walked out we were silent for like 10 seconds and then we just burst out laughing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: And yeah that's my other story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FridayH112387: that's hilarious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowprincess2407: lol</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:5157</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/5157.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=5157"/>
    <title>Colorado</title>
    <published>2005-06-18T03:42:24Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-18T03:42:24Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Screaming Children</lj:music>
    <content type="html">It's day 2 of my visit here in Colorado, yet it honestly feels like it's been twice that long. It seems as though the louder your environment, the longer the day drag out. Before, it was only my nephew that was the issue. But now my neice has decided that she has every right to be as much of a terror as her brother so I have had to endure 2 days of children that constantly need attention to feel important. On top of that, my poor excuse of a father goes on about how cute acting they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never will I allow my children to cry for no reason. Ever. They cry, they sit in solitary confinment until they're done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not cute acting. They're loud. They're loud and they throw things. We were in a decent resturant and sugar packets and trucks were flying across the table (which were then replaced by fries/hamburger with ketchup). And I swear to god if I get hit by a flying truck, I'll burst a blood vessel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll get yelled at for not going on about how cute it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister in law is too soft spoken for her own good. But she's beginning to crack. What I suspect is that when Julia's Drews age, she'll snap. She's too nice to repremand these kids, so eventually they'll catch on and walk all over them. I'm starting to see it too. The eyes are beginning to twitch a little, her face is turning a deeper red. Even though it's her own doing, I admire how much shit she takes from those things (whom are crying at this very momemnt actually). I'd be bald, hyperventilating and in a constant fetal position if I were her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievable.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:4946</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/4946.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4946"/>
    <title>Parents</title>
    <published>2005-05-17T03:27:27Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-17T03:27:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I wonder if it's ever occured to my mother and father that snooping in to their daughters life is wrong. I honestly wonder. Every day I hear 'I was reading your...' I'm fucking sick of it. Them reading my life is not going to make me change, all it's doing is pissing me off and making me wish the days away all the more before I'm out of this shit hole. My mother just asked "Ashley, why don't you think we get along?" A little dumbfounded that someone who went to college for as long as my mother has that she could ask something so obvious and stupid, I replied "Well, it may have to do with you not respecting my privacy" I then received "You're goddamn right we don't" Wtf? You honestly think that you snooping through everything and confronting me is going to make things better? No. Ha, let me explain how things work. You snope in my life, you can kiss our relationship good-bye. They go on about not trusting me. Well guess what, I don't trust you. But they don't care about that. They don't care that I can't even trust my own parents. Do they realize how empty that makes me feel? Who the fuck can't turn to their own parents for comfort? But I wouldn't go to them for a shoulder to cry on for anything. I don't trust their judgement, I don't trust their opinions because they are ALWAYS based on out-of-context information, I go to bed feeling like they only love me because they have to. I'm convinced my father thinks I'm a failure. My mother is constantly saying how disappointed she is in me. Honestly, I have nothing to lose. When I'm high, nothing else matters. They already don't trust me, or even like me, who the fuck cares what I do? Oh excuse me... my bad... they do becuase if I get caught, they get fucked over. Let alone my life being ruined, but in their eyes, that's just one less thing to give up their free time for. If I'm worthless to my parents, what's the point of caring? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really feel like my parents only love me because they have to. The only people I feel safe with are my siamese cats and Conor and Sarah. They're the only things I feel like no matter how badly I fuck up, they'll be there for me. And I'm lucky to have them...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:4812</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/4812.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4812"/>
    <title>My family</title>
    <published>2005-05-09T01:45:27Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-09T01:45:27Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Simpsons</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I have a very love-hate relationship with my parents. Mostly my father. We never spend any time together because he's always in Sandy, he never comes with my mother and I when we go on vacation, and basically never goes out of his way to be around me. But now I don't want him to. Whenever he is around, he's always sarcastic, or racist, a lot of time he's making me feel bad. I know he's kidding around, but it hurts. It hurts when he doesn't go on vacation with me. Last time we went to Florida, he said he couldn't go because of work, but then went to Atlanta the next week for a golf tournament. He only went to maybe one of my track meets, and he's just never there.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want my old family back... The one before we moved. Ever since we came to Utah, everything has gone downhill... Actually. I just want to go to college. Leave. Be on my own for once. 1 year.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:4384</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/4384.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4384"/>
    <title>Who does this?</title>
    <published>2005-05-04T23:34:57Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-04T23:34:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Okay. So I seriously thought I would never regret my first time. Never in a million years did I ever think he would turn on me. Ever. I still can't figure out what happened. I mean, I know what happened, but I can't understand why he would intentionally hurt me.... I never expected it out of him.... Breaks my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least he's immature so I get something out of it (ie self esteeme). He actually went to the extent of deleting all comments he made about me on MySpace. Who does that? Honest to christ.... I'm debating over asking him what the fuck is going on in his head. From a psycological point of view because I truely do want to know.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:4226</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/4226.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4226"/>
    <title>It's just one of those days</title>
    <published>2005-04-30T00:12:56Z</published>
    <updated>2005-04-30T00:12:56Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Fuck music</lj:music>
    <content type="html">K, this day has gone so beyond good it's not even fucking worth continuing (not in a suicidal sense). Fuck. My ap portfolio is due and I'm not even close to being ready, I was suppose to fucking get weed but Hunter is a fucking shit and flaked out even on Mike. I got to yell at him though. Fuck- that was the high light of my day. And he was fucking confused about it. Stupid fuck. Then I was supposed to go to a fucking night club with max tonight and my fucking shit ass parents don't think I can handle dancing at a fucking GAY CLUB. I don't even have to worry about rape. Fuck that shit. Fuck it. I hate parents. One more fucking year and I'm out of this shithole. I don't even fucking care about how much of a brat I sound like. Fuck it. I'm pissed off. Fuck. I need a drink.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:3685</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/3685.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3685"/>
    <title>Oops</title>
    <published>2005-04-11T21:53:30Z</published>
    <updated>2005-04-11T21:53:30Z</updated>
    <lj:music>South Park</lj:music>
    <content type="html">So in the last few weeks my parents found out I've had sex, they think I watch porn and that I lied to them (well that part I did). But that wasn't enough. Apparently while my mother was rummeging through my bag, she found my worst nightmare. Even worse when she found a condom in my wallet. She found my pipe. And I don't even know why it was in there and why I didn't see it before (I had ripped through my bag the day before looking for my glasses and she had too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in short, when my mother gets home from atlanta tonight, my life ends.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:3505</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/3505.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3505"/>
    <title>Worst day ever</title>
    <published>2005-04-01T05:11:30Z</published>
    <updated>2005-04-01T05:11:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Today was very bizzare. It was one of the worst mixed in with one of the best. I semi-quit my job, I volunteered and played with cats for an hour, I pulled my art grade up to a B+ and I think I aced my math final. It wasn't until I got home that I remembered that for every amazing thing in life, there will inevitably be something else to bring it down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon my arrival home, my mother had a very distinct tone that immediatly made me realize that she had caught me in an act I thought I'd gotten away with. Just like when she found a condom in my wallet and just like when my father read my text message about me wanting alcohol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she was about to leave for the store, she gave me the most guilt riden look I have ever received. Immediatly I asked, "what did I do" and she walked over, sat down and ask me something that made my heart sink:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Who is this chevguy7?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts : Oh fuck. How does she know about him? What did we talk about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Er... a friend. Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Well you just left the conversation you had with him open on the computer and I saw the word 'fuck'. Why were you telling him you've had sex? And that after your visit to Florida you'll be up to 4?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts: Oh shit... that's right... the first time we've ever talked 100% about sex and my mother reads it. Unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You read my conversation?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "When I see that kind of language I do. Are you having sex?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I had the following options:&lt;br /&gt;1) Admit it. Explain that yes I have had sex and now that it's all out in the open, can I go on birth control. &lt;br /&gt;Problem? The likelyhood of me ever being allowed out with a penis bearing individual with blood pumping through their vains again would be slim to none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Deny. Say that I was actually bluffing and only said those things to not sound like a total prude.&lt;br /&gt;Problem? Mother knowing I'm full of shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Come up with some elaborate story and weasle my way out.&lt;br /&gt;Problem? Impossible. Thank you mary jane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Since the idea of not being able to go out with a guy until I'm 18 haunts me, I went with choice number 2. I'm not in trouble, she's just... disappointed. And now she thinks I'm a dirty liar, but at least she can still dwell on hope that her only daughter hasn't actually turned into a nympho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the next set of news came. She explained how she was convinced I had people over on Sunday (which is odd since they were actually there on Saturday) and here are the reasons:&lt;br /&gt;1) I'd forgotten to throw away 2 pizza boxes&lt;br /&gt;2) Parent's comforter was put on upside down&lt;br /&gt;3) Mysterious stains were found on the sheets in the bed not caused by my parents.&lt;br /&gt;4) A pornographic film had been purchased some time on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't watch porn. I think it's very low class and unrealistic and an utter waste of my time. So even though I was drunk, I know I wouldn't have done that no matter what. Everyone else had left by Sunday except 2 people. The fuckwits that had sex in my parents bedroom (whom apparently didn't have the decency to use a bloody condom). What inconsiderate moron would order porn at someone elses home? Did they think we wouldn't notice? A bill does come to the house every month. Unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. My mother now assumes that I had a party Sunday, fucked someone, watched porn, plan to fuck more people (which is fair assumption I suppose) in Florida and that I smoke weed in my car. Yes I forgot to mention that, she's insesent about my car smelling of weed. It doesn't. Nothing even close. Who smokes in their car? Well. Probably the same type that order porn at someone else's home and fuck in the host's parent's bedroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quote homer : "I don't care if someone accuses me of lying when I just got finished lying or am about to, but not when I'm telling the truth"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh a lighter note, I almost hit two pedestrians today. They dumbasses weren't paying attention to where they were going and I was explaining to my boss that school is more important then a stupid job. They yelled at me. I ignored them.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:3250</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/3250.html"/>
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    <title>Correction</title>
    <published>2005-02-03T21:54:47Z</published>
    <updated>2005-02-03T21:54:47Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Collective Soul - To Where the River Flows</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Yeah I feel a little bad about my previous entry. I had just come from work and it was a very very boring night which puts me in a semi bad mood. 50% of my issue was my cabin actually. Oh god. My cabin. Not everyone was horrible, there were 5 exceptions. Everyone else made me cry a little everytime they spoke. Let's start with Camielle or whatever the hell her name was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will probably sound immature and a very mundane thing to bitch about... but I get upset with undeserving appraisal. She had a laugh that I honest to god was like a fog horn. And what was worse was how everyone loved it. They recorded it and continued to play it after she left. I shit you not. Who does that? Honestly? Whenever something funny happened and started to get into a good mood... she would laugh it immediatly became a painful experience again. It's astounding that someone could possess a power like that. Incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Anna. Ah yes. She made me understand the reasoning behind homicide. In fact. There aren't words to describe the feelings I had towards that particular individual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had some good times. Like the time it rained wicked ass hard and my days in Joslyn's cabin and listening to everyone be talented and play the guitar while me and Joslyn crocheted. But as a whole I felt very... empty actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the fuck does someone feel empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Useless! Ha there you go. I actually wasn't going to tell anyone I was leaving because I was convinced no one would notice for at least 2 days. But then I realized that was really mean. But yeah... Just sayin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after reading my past livejournal entries, I guess I am self depricating still, but mentally I have way WAY more confidence then I ever have before</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:3021</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/3021.html"/>
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    <title>Hmm</title>
    <published>2005-02-02T05:18:09Z</published>
    <updated>2005-02-02T05:22:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Well. It's been a good several months since I've babbled on about my feelings to a computer screen. Inspired by my many naps in math class, I shall spill about my now finally sort thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I moved, keeping a steady group of friends had been a joke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my Interlochen friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two summers ago I bonded very tightly with several very odd girls and a few guys, and I was happier then I could ever remember being since I'd lived in Utah. Then out of no where, my last summer was 6 weeks of absolute hell. What was worse, is that I had built up all this excitement in me and only to have it be crushed with 7 words: 'Oh my god, Anni's in my cabin!' When those words escaped Lisbet's mouth, I knew my camp experience would be an utter waste of time. My two closest friends, from what I saw, ditched me completely, as I knew they would, having not been bunked with them. Although I did get a lot of fun time in with Joslyn, it wasn't the same because I can see her whenever I want. So for a few weeks I went through this weird guilt trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do to make them desert me? And so suddenly? Did I piss them off? I've never been a squealy girly girl that freaks out when I see a friend. It's just not who I am. But is that why? So I started to consider changing the way I act so I could finally fit in again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after several discussions with what turned out to be an obsessive boyfriend, it was then I realized that they could all burn in the deepest ring of hell. Being selfdepricating would get me no where in life. And somehow, from a very negative situation, a new me erupted. I no longer play the 'Oh it must be me' crap. As a result, I'm a much happier person (but that also relates to the amount of weed I smoke). If the only way I can continue being friends with someone is by changing, then it's not worth my time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is my story about how my inforunatly horrible camp experience made me who I am till the next change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep in mind that I'm very tired so please excuse the grammitical abomination I just gave birth to.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:2564</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/2564.html"/>
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    <title>!</title>
    <published>2004-10-14T03:50:35Z</published>
    <updated>2004-10-14T03:50:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I have an announcement to make. I have given birth to two new healthy love handles. I think we can all say with true inner feeling....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what the hell is God family republic?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:2419</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/2419.html"/>
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    <title>I am feel fat and sassy</title>
    <published>2004-10-14T03:47:32Z</published>
    <updated>2004-10-14T03:47:32Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Yeah that subject came straight from the ass. Actually it's from the rejected cartoons. Whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got this letter the other day that said 'you have been selected to participate in a miss young america beauty pagent' or something. You know. I think I'm going to do it. I figure it'll give me a little bit of confidence, help me lose weight, and most importantly, give me something to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other story involves the upcoming dance. It's girls choice, so I decided, what the hell, I should ask Tom. Well I had a plan all figured out (I was going to write him a note and have Cadance put it on his car because I'm a pussy and didnt have the balls to say anything to his face) and I was actually going to go through with it. Then I dropped some girl off at her friend's house after practice on Tuesday. Yeah. So apparently not only has been asked, he's been asked twice. And probably by now three times. I was sad but thankfully I found this out before I got humiliated. I talked to him today in math but he was in a bad mood. Something tells me though he knows I like him and is kidna weirded out by it. I don't know why, but I get that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I had guts in my head. That's the only place, but they were there.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:2260</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/2260.html"/>
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    <title>Heh...</title>
    <published>2004-10-09T05:04:59Z</published>
    <updated>2004-10-09T05:04:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Well, it's been a while... I've been pretty swamped with school. Here's the thing though. I'm awesome. Yeah, so I was at the football game today and do you know who pulled me aside? Kevin. Yeah. That's right. So maybe it only had to do with tutoring... still! He talked to me and it was in public, so he's not embarassed by me. That's pretty damn cool. And he was so nice, smiling and whatnot. Course. He has a girlfriend too... But I saw them and she was doing everything. She grabbed his hand and he was pretty stand offish. This could very well be just in my head, but you know what, it makes me happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the game I got on to myspace to see if I was cool enough to make new friends. I had! And with a hot '18' year old! Oh ho ho, I was thinking, damn girl! I'm havin the best day! So I emailed him asking if he went to Park City High. He said yeah, I think i'm in your 3-d animation class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooops...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I emailed back apologizing saying I didn't know anyone and that I was stuck in a corner with a bunch of nerds. I then asked what other classes he was taking. Then I flipped through his pictures (He looks really good in them) and clicked on one to read the comments. Oh God. I kept seeing the name 'Alex' and thinking, hey, he looks like a kid I know named Alex. Then I saw Lindsay had posted a lot. Then I realized Lindsay's little brother's name is Alex. And he looks a lot like... oh fuck... Yeah,I had no idea that was him. He lied though. He is so not 18. He's not even 16. He's probably going to read my email a think 'you fucking moron' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be one thing if he was just in that class with me. It's quite another when you spend the entire night with him when you couldn't sleep at your friend's house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did make me laugh, as embarassed as I am. Oh well, I had a good day. And it's the weekend!!!! SLEEP!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:1939</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/1939.html"/>
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    <title>soechtig @ 2004-10-01T17:05:00</title>
    <published>2004-10-01T23:43:27Z</published>
    <updated>2004-10-01T23:43:27Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Live - Lightning Crashes</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Well. I'm not sure if this is good news or bad news. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to take my chemistry test today (at 6 am. I had to get out of bed at 520. Fucking early morning class) but I didn't get finished in the hour or so before they were doing a lab that I needed to participate in. So I get to finish the test monday. I have 3 more days to study! So as I sat down to do the lab, I was next to Derek and he asked me how the I thought the test went. I twitched and muttered something about being in way over my head. So he looked at me sympathetically and asked me if I needed any help. So then he asked for my number and asked me to call him so he could help me! I was so happy! I've been wanting to ask him for help for so long! And he asked ME! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This moment of sheer bliss lasts for another hour! A whole hour of happy. Then he kept talking. But I figured something out. He's bi. And horny. Guess how I figured this gem out. HE HAS A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. More twitching. But he's so nice to me. He saw me at lunch... alone... doing math and sat with me and we talked for a little while. And before that, I talked with Tom. He's such a cute kid. And I think he's single but I really don't know. Wishful thinking... Anyway, I'm gunna try to get on him. I can't tell if he's hitting on me but to keep me happy I'm going to say he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so alone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in my head I'm not!!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:1774</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/1774.html"/>
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    <title>Bam</title>
    <published>2004-09-29T21:55:48Z</published>
    <updated>2004-09-29T21:55:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It finally happened. At 2 in the morning last night, I was still learning things for the first time. My eyes weren't focusing, so I took a break and reviewed what I had learned in my head. Only something was very wrong. I coudln't remember anything. I couldn't even remember how to balance a basic redox reaction when the equation was given. In the mists of my panic, I fell asleep and woke up 2 hours later from coughing so hard. I burst out in near tears and shaking how unprepared I was for this exam so my mother agreed to let me stay at home and catch up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 8 I woke up drenched in sweat. What was weird is that I hadn't had a nightmare. My head hurt and my chest hurt. And it hit me. My God. I had a heart attack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or... more realisticly... I had a panic attack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did learn some things though. You can't cram in high school. I may have already said that, but now I know why. The stress you were feeling from the test is now multiplied because you feel rushed. And since 9 out of 10 times you're going to go into that test unprepared anyway because who actually can soak high school material in over night (and you know it), you now have three helpings of stress instead of maybe just one. Or for the responsible students out there, none at all. So maybe it's time for me to organize my room. Maybe it's time to review my subjects. Especially my APs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it's time I get laid and stop trying to think I'm something I'm not.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:1460</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/1460.html"/>
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    <title>High School in a nutshell</title>
    <published>2004-09-28T22:07:08Z</published>
    <updated>2004-09-28T22:07:08Z</updated>
    <lj:music>The humming of my computer</lj:music>
    <content type="html">5 am. That's what time this day began for me. Instead of studying over the weekend for my AP Bio test, I chose to cram the night before. Here's the thing about mornings. I can't stand them. My body simply doesn't function. But, because the 4 hours I put in to learning two chapters worth of material for, suprisingly wasn't enough, I decided an extra hour and a half or so wouldn't be such a bad idea. If it's at all possible, I think I was more prepared for that test before I went to bed. It also occured to me at 5am that I hadn't actually done anything with Chapter 5. In a panic I attempt to read my notes, but aside from my brain, my eyes are the last thing that wakes up. This includes my eyelides. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I get to school (and although I was up 2 and a half hours before school started, I still managed to be 5 minutes late) and go to my frist period. 3-D animation. Last Friday I had finally began to understand how the fuck that program works. 3 weeks it took me. And, today, my project was near completion. I did 2 weeks of work in an hour. Then, somewhere in the mists of my excitement, I made a wrong click. When working with graphics, the slightest mistake can cause utter distruction. I witnessed this first hand. As I played my 3 seconds of brilliance (3 weeks to make 3 god damn seconds) I noticed something very very wrong. My ball no longer bounced. It flew. And not just in a straight line. Imagine if you dropped a feather off a building and a gust of wind blew. I still have no idea what I did. Frantically, (instead of asking for help) I tried to fix it and ended up deleting the ball altogether. Right there, at that very moment, is when I should have just gotten in my car and driven home. The bell rang, and all I could muster up was another ball. That's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second period. The test. His first few words made me thing maybe this day would turn out okay "Class, here's your test. 100 questions, no essays. All multiple choice" Now I hate multiple choice. But I knew enough about the material that I figured maybe this won't be so bad. 40 minutes into the test, he announced that by this time, we should at least be on number 60. I was on 20. I also noticed a very distinct pattern in these questions. They were all the same. I think I had every question on the test twice, and then they came up several more times reworded. That's only good when you're positive you're right to begin with. If I mixed a single concept up, I'm fucked. And since there's no doubt in my mind that I did, I'm looking at two F's. I have never failed a class before. Ever. I never planned to. I always used to say to myself, How could anyone ever fail a class? ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two periods were long but nothing of any importance took place, although my stress level slowly began to rise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving has confirmed evolution. 200 teenagers in a parking lot trying to leave at the same time out one road is nothing more then a giant group of monkeys. About 10 minutes after getting in my car, I finally leave, only to be stopped by another line of cars trying to do the very same thing. As I'm sitting listening to Flogging Molly, I said to myself, you know, I think I do want a hamburger. I had been debating all afternoon between my left over trout, tacos or Burger King. So I take Kearns out and drive along waiting for my lunch to appear. After driving for 5 minutes I started to think maybe I went to far. Did that make me turn around? Hell no. Instincts are for pussies. I drove a good 10 miles out of my way for a burger and fries. By now my eye was twitching and my knuckles were turning various shades of white. And just for laughs, I didn't get ketchup. So I ate dry fries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the first half of my day, here comes the next. Actually, it's the first quarter, because I'll be damned if I can afford to sleep. Good night everyone.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:1269</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/1269.html"/>
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    <title>Dad's Birthday</title>
    <published>2004-09-28T05:08:37Z</published>
    <updated>2004-09-28T05:08:37Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Listening to the music in my head</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Tonight was actually pretty entertaining. We went to River Horse, and for a while, I just focused on the two very attractive waiters around me. That alone made the night worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me take a minute to digress. I dread getting old. I really do. The idea that I could potentially bend over and a) not be able to get back up or b) step on my sagging tit; makes me wonder whether Dr Kevorkian was on to something. But aside from your body going to hell, everything you do, something else must cancel that action out. For example, the expression 'What goes up must come down'. This could very well have everything to do with the elderly. If you get up, something must inevitably come back out. My family and I witnessed this in it's finest form. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman of about 70 was walking back from the restroom, and to return to her table, had to pass ours by. As she did, the curse of the old broke loose. An eruption of the ass took place and with in seconds, our table was in tears. What made me laugh even harder was the woman's uncaring attitude of what had just occured. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next event was getting into the car. As I was putting my seat belt on, my uncle said 'Get out of the car, Ashley, right now' I asked why and he repeated 'Get out of the car right now' I looked around to try and figure out why (like if the car was on fire or something) and I saw two men that looked a little like the homeless, staring at me. I thought we were being robbed. I jumped out, frightened to death, but only to discover that next to the grubby gentlemen, was a giant owl on a large man's arm. I can't tell you how good it feels for your heart to start pumping again after a good long break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I need to sleep, I plan on getting up at 5 to study for a Bio test that I'm 50% ready for. I forgot about an entire chapter because I'm just that disorganized. I'll write tomorrow.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:1023</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/1023.html"/>
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    <title>Derek</title>
    <published>2004-09-27T22:20:23Z</published>
    <updated>2004-09-27T22:31:36Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Dido - Don't Leave Home</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I've been at PCHS for 3 weeks. Within those 3 weeks, I developed a pretty stable crush on a kid named Derek. I was blown away with how sweet and how brilliantly articulate he is. And he's attractive. Well, I tried to play the eye locking game, and eventually I started to think, maybe I have a chance. Then, at 7:15 in the morning, part of me died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's gay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I didn't believe what I heard. Then I took a closer look at him. There, on his neck, was a necklace with a rainbow ring hanging from the chain. On his wrist, rested a rainbow bracelet. Clean finger nails. And on his backpack was a rainbow pin with a purple triangle. With a slight twitch in my eye, I returned to my seat and rested my head on my Chemistry notebook and muttered 'fuck me' several hundred times until the bell rang. Any doubts that I may have still had, were resolved when I discovered he was the head of the GSA. He asked me to join, so I did, in a futile attempt to see whether maybe he swings both directions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned something though. If a boy exibits most or all of the following, one must immediatly question his sexuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Articulate&lt;br /&gt;2. Understanding/listens when you talk&lt;br /&gt;3. Smart or works hard&lt;br /&gt;4. Clean&lt;br /&gt;5. Stands up straight&lt;br /&gt;6. Does things for others without being asked</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:soechtig:549</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://soechtig.livejournal.com/549.html"/>
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    <title>Chemistry</title>
    <published>2004-09-27T00:22:55Z</published>
    <updated>2004-09-27T00:22:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I learned something about switching schools in the middle of high school. You come to find out different teachers teach the same material very differently. Adapting to these changes is a royal pain in the ass. Right now I'm attempting to do my chemistry homework, and for the first 6 problems, I was fine. Assuming the books answer on number 4 is incorrect. Everything after that is basically like reading chinese, so I turn to the book. God forbid the book would cover problems in the study guide based on that chapter. Maybe I'm reaching too far here, but aren't AP books here to teach us all there is to know about chemsistry? Not going over one concept 400 times and then moving on expecting us to read between the lines? Well as of right now, I won't have to even worry about the AP test because by the time May comes around, I will be dead.</content>
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