Although Kent State is known to be an excellent school, there are over 25,000 students-many of them I'm sure are wonderfully interesting, and my education will be a great deal cheaper than any other school....there are still days I feel a great deal of regret.

Not many of my close friends are going to schools other than Kent State or Akron. But, something in the back of my mind tells me I should have visited schools and found my "dream college".

By staying so close to home and even living at home, I feel like I'm not really fully submerging myself into this great new world of COLLEGE.

I have struggled with being independent ever since it began to hit me that my parents couldn't always wipe my ass for me. So much of me saying "But I don't want to [insert some task which may cause humiliation for me or an encounter with some possibly frightening stranger ALONE]"

I wouldn't even use phones for a while because I hated hearing myself awkwardly stumble over the correct wordings of average phrases. I remember, junior year, I began to lose my memory on very common phrases or words for everyday utensils or household items. It was as if I was regressing completely out of fear of moving forward.

As a child I had no fear of practically anything except bolts of lightening or episodes of Unsolved Mysteries. I loved answering the phone and taking messages for my father. I thoroughly enjoyed speaking or singing in front of big groups or people. I would draw a great deal of attention to myself due to my weird sense of humor and my urge to dance all the time.

It's funny, lately I have been starting to feel more like that old self. I guess the more I accept my day to day awkward situations the better I feel. I don't care about the stranger who saw me totally getting into some amaazing song I'm blasting in my car...or maybe the fact I am a huge clutz and I trip and stumble into things daily resulting in constant bruises on my legs.

But, am I really living out my dream by going to a school which doesn't even carry my desired major?

I realize my thoughts are very scattered, but soo much has been trying to process lately. I don't want college to begin because I am somewhat disappointed in myself already due to my poor AP scores. I always say I'll improve my studying skills and nothing happens. Classrooms filled with 150+ students...ugh. I hate feeling like just another random face to a professor. They may never call me Ana..just Anna because I may not get the chance to correct them or they'll forget. What a terribly disgusting feeling.

I want to be able to stand up for myself or go out of my way to make friends with whoever I want without worrying about their response.

Bleghhh. I need to finish my summer reading.

shock me, entertain me, make me laugh, cry, dance, most of all...do it soon.

I don't have a 3 year old to keep my frown upside down 24/7 right now.

I'm ready for something to appear...NOW.

I miss some faces...
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Understanding is the but the sum of our misunderstandings...

"You know what I'd really like to do most right now? Climb up to the top of some high place like the pyramids. The highest place I can find. Where you can see forever. Stand on the very top, look all around the world, see all the scenery, and see with my own eyes what's been lost from the world. I don't know...Maybe I don't want to see that. Maybe I don't want to see anything anymore."

-From Sputnik Sweetheart

"In the world we live in, what we know and what we don't know are like Siamese twins, inseparable, existing in a state of confusion.

Confusion, confusion.

Who can really distinguish between the sea and what's reflected in it? Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

Without any fuss, then, I gave up worrying about the difference between knowing and not knowing. That became my point of departure. A terrible place to start, perhaps-but people need a makeshift jumping-off point, right? All of which goes to explain how I started seeing dualisms such as theme and style, object and subject, cause and effect, the joints of my hand and the rest of me, not as black-and-white pairs, but as indistinguishable one from the other. Everything had spilled on the kitchen floor-the salt, pepper, flour, starch. All mixed into one fine blob."
-From Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami