we all knew this was coming

it's two thirty in the morning and i'm still awake. i am one hundred percent packed now. even the car is packed up. that's how packed for college i am. also, i really hate using my number keypad, so don't expect anything with...digits. is that the word? i don't actually know. it's late, i'm tired, and...

i don't remember my first day of high school. or middle school, for that matter. for some reason i do remember every first day of every grade between kindergarten and sixth grade. i guess my brain is just weird like that.

well, today is about to be my first day of college. i wonder if i'll remember this one. i guess that's why i'm blogging. i really shouldn't be, i'm so tired that i can't even understand what i'm typing right now. i guess it's a free write, then. stream-of-consciousness? if only i was james joyce.

i'm actually excited to go to college - and even if i wasn't, the momster's crying fits in the container store/bed, bath & beyond/harris teeter/every public place in the world would be enough to make me excited just at the prospect of leaving her. but...

my room is empty. like, meggo's and jenibean's fans are off the walls and my bulletin board is taken down and my sheets are in the dryer still because the momster said i wouldn't want to come home to a dirty room. it's so creepy.

so now i'm sleeping on the couch. it's kind of fitting in a way. i mean, my first night in this house (my first night in a lot of houses, actually) was spent sleeping on the couch because those slacker parents of mine were too lazy to set up my bedframe. they blamed it on my picking out a bed made of wrought iron and wood. i still think they were just lazy.

i dyed my hair black yesterday. it's going to be a pain to keep up during college, but at least it isn't The Oops.

just looking at the link is enough to make me nostalgic. alas, alack. woe is me, etc. etc.

in other news, real madrid signed another midfielder and drew against a third-rate belgian team in a pointless friendly yesterday. if they keep this crap up expect lots and lots of pissed off soccer ranting from me this year.

oh, and get on oovoo. it's addictive.