The Science of Choice

No one wastes time at a time like this.

:: When I want to remember how to live life to its fullest, think back to how I lived right now.

Peace.

Stories 1

While my old folders are being transferred from one computer to another, I think I'll write part of the story of Kristin.

When I was young, and all the kids in the kids in the neighborhood would play together, every once in a while Jeff or Kevin Wittman would come and play with us. They both seemed extremely skilled, I remember, but part of that is because Kevin was old and Jeff was an athlete. And somehow I remember always knowing that they had a little sister named Kristin (didn't know how to spell it at the time), but I never saw her. Then Kevin left for college, Jeff got cool, and I stopped knowing about the Wittman family.

Then one day at band camp during my senior year, I saw one of the Wittman brothers standing next to a girl that looked very vaguely similar to them, and I figured it must be his little sister. I realized that I'd never talked to her before, or even seen her before. But I remember thinking that she ran with a pretty cool crew, and I knew she lived in my neighborhood, and I figured I should try talking to her sometime.

I think there may have been a couple words between, but our first real conversation was on the very last bus ride back from a band performance - December 2nd, 2006, I believe, from Pottstown, at about 10:30PM and in freezing, freezing weather. I had the choice of sitting in the front with the pit, or in the back with Kristin and her crew of freshmen that, for some reason, I had an unfairly high opinion of. I knew that I could ride with the pit during drumline season, so I went back and started talking to Kristin and her friends [including Susan and Kristen].

I can't remember everything we talked about that night - probably Matt, cereal, her family, her dad, dreams, sleeping, ATP, school, band, that sort of thing - but I remember thinking that I had a very good time and I would have liked to talked to her again, so I gave her my screenname since it was super easy to remember.

Oh, the first time she saw me was on my Emo Day, and she was afraid of me.

And between then and the next time I talked to her, I told Wasiq her group's secrets for ATP, because I just didn't think they were important.

So, I think, our second IM conversation was not a very fun one. She was very angry and betrayed and I was guilty and ashamed. And I felt like she might never talk to me again. Especially because I felt like she kept twisting my words so she could be more angry at me. But, for some reason - maybe it was the promise of cookies - she continued to talk to me.

There's a lot more to this story, but I have to go to dinner. Peace!

To Do

I only have about 48 hours left in this town [until Providence, RI becomes my mailing address], but I feel like I have a million things to do and see. I have to give the Hi-Q gift to Dr. Arensberg, I have to talk to Mr. DeMarro about payment and drumline and Tom, I have to instruct one last day of band camp and hand control over to Katie and print out the scores again because she took them, I have to go out out to dinner tonight with all of my friends at T.G.I Friday's [Painter's Crossing], I have to go for a walk with Kristin, I have to go for a drive with Gina, I have to light candles, I have to watch The Daily Show one last time, I have to write letters, I have to finish letters, I have to back up lots of information, I have to set up my computer, I have to print out pictures, I have to pack, I have to say goodbyes. I have to update this thing with stories from this summer, many of which are wonderful. I have to start writing in more detail.

Peace.

Yay!

Alright, so I finally got it so that I am all cookied up by Google/Blogger and I can just click "new post" from my desktop and I come right here, plus I actually like the design, and I think I'll actually be easily able/motivated to update here. Unfortunately it's on a website with the word "blog" in it, which is pretty much my least favorite word. And I think the cookie might run out after two weeks. We'll see how it goes.

Peace!

Still Trying to Figure This Out

This being the blog. Rm...

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