Self-discovery? Yes, please.

I'm not exactly sure on how to start. I'm nervous as I'm typing this. All I really want is to finally know what I want. Each day's post is going to be filled with all the thoughts that my peers would find boring or unimportant.

On a lighter note, Susan Boyle makes me so happy. I watch this video and I smile. Things like this make me cry and trust me, I am not a cryer. My Aunt D passed away just over a year ago, I was calm and collected for the entire service but everytime Mufasa dies in The Lion King, I bawl. Even now I can't help but think "Poor kitty.". I'm not exactly sure if that makes me insensitive, my mother seems to think so. I'll catch her tearing up while watching Extreme Home Make-Over. I always feel bad for the siblings of the "challenged" kids. Alright, little Jimmy is autistic or poor May was born without the use of her lower body but what about their brothers and sisters? That one child gets the entire show pratically dedicated to them while their siblings get a fifteen second time slot? It just seems unfair, but that may be my imaturity shining through.

I just got done reading a book called Zig Zag by Ellen Wittlinger. I'd say it's your average teenage girl book. Attractive guys, a little sex, kooky friends, troubled kids and a road trip. I enjoyed it and lent it to several friends. I always borrow books from my city's public library with the intention of reading them and giving them back right away. Them I end up letting the book circulate through my group of buddies and return the book several days late with minor damage done. I can't help it, they ask me what I'm reading and I'm not going to tell them. If they want to know the story, they have to read it for themselves. It makes me happy to see my friends reading, and to be engaging in something other than gossip.

Onto another totally unrelated topic! The Soloist came out today. :) I love music. I love the homeless. And I'm hopelessly infatuated with Robert Downey Jr. Before, during and after the drugs. <3

Ha! I'm about to air some dirty laundry. I own a Slytherin uniform. A sweater, tie, scarf, emblem, and a robe. Along with a replica of Voldemort's wand. I wear it when I'm hyper and dance to the High School Musical soundtracks. I've always been a Slytherin girl. Ever since the first book, when the story of Hogwarts was told and Salazar Slytherin was presented as the dark, powerful entity that made the dark side of the wizarding world. And I might have the tiniest crush on Draco Malfoy. I'll also admit to writing some horrible fanfiction. It was fun while it lasted and I have an on going tradition of rereading the series every summer. There's a lot of information to retain and I need refreshers every so often. The day my uniform arrived I had to take out the trash and, in a demonstration of ultimate nerdness, I pointed my wand to the sky and shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!". At that exact moment a school bus drove by on the main road of my suburb, a bus full of my school's wrestling team. My house is second from the corner. School the next day was difficult.

I think I'm going to end it here and watch Susan Boyle twenty more times.
:) Catch ya tomorrow.