Well I suppose that talking is in order...

I wish Lindsay would start blogging again. I really do. I'm so glad to be back and to be writing again that I wish everyone could feel that way. Lately, really, I've just been wanting people to feel as happy and lucky as I do.

I was reading my journal from freshman year a few days ago, all my hopes and dreams and fears about high school. I had recorded everything anyone ever told me to expect, regarding teachers and being a cheerleader and just plain getting through. And, of course, there was that typical line, that cheesy one that adults like to repeat like a mantra, as though it can turn them back into a teenager again -- "High school was the best years of my life."

I've realized that everything I was told was not correct; people dramatize and they embellish. There were no presumptions against cheerleaders, teachers that I went into a class fearing proved their merit, and I usually don't look at my classes as just something to get through. Except math. And why would high school be the best years of my life? Isn't that kind of sad when the happiest times a person can remember are the football games and pep rallies and worrying about exams? There is so much that comes afterward...I feel terribly for those people who think that life starts to decline after high school.

There is so much more.

Get out. Grow up.

Win and lose. Hopefully more winning.

I registered for my classes yesterday. I got into my acting class, and I'm on the waitlist for the journalism one.

Off to see a movie.

Tootles.

Natalie