It's a Great Day for Baseball

 

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Wednesday, July 16, 2003

 
And the madcrazy ramblings commence.

A rad girl named Dana asked on her livejournal whether or not soulmates exist, and it got me a-thinkin. Thinking Jaclyn isn't as cool as, say, Really Hyper Jaclyn or Cynical Hungry Jaclyn, but she still has some leverage in the scheme of things...

First of all, I'm not a big fan of the word "mate". It reminds me of 1) That Discovery Channel Song by the Bloodhound Gang, 2) Sweaty Australian kangaroo hunters covered in red outback dirt, and 3) pirates with bad teeth. But the word "soulmate" makes me feel all happy, like the way you feel when you first lick a huge ice cream cone, or when your feet are freezing and you finally put on really warm socks.

I've never been close to finding my soulmate. I've never looked at anyone and thought, "Oh, he's definitely the One." But I'm only seventeen years old. I have my entire life to know what love is.

Love is such a weird word. You know what word is weirder? Mugwumpery.

Love is confusing, and I haven't even been in it. I haven't even waded in it...or stuck my feet in...not even my pinky toe.

I remember when I was five and kissing on TV and in the movies was really gross and icky. In kindergarten, I had a crush on a kid named Chris'r, and every day on the bus I'd ask him if how my outfit looked and he said it was nice. That was the extent of our relationship, along with Legos and sharing crayons. Eventually, we both went our separate ways.

People have said "I love you." I've never said that. There should be fireworks and parades for every person that says "I love you" and means it. That way all the people that aren't in love get themselves a grand ole' party every day.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore. Whenever I try to talk about this whole soulmatey-love thing, I get all jumbled. Imagine me trying to express my feelings when I actually find my person. In real life, when words are meant to mean something, they always come out horribly.

"I-uh...I mean...you know...fireworks? Um...do you want a Pepsi or something?"

I guess I can hope that when the time actually comes, I say something more profound than that.

"She's my Rushmore, Max."

Am I anyone's Rushmore? No. Someday? Maybe.

:)

Sunday, July 13, 2003

 
I figured out that I'm not as shy around people when

A) I'm only with one or two other people, or

B) If we've been friends for a long time

But get me in a big group of kids, even if they're a group of my best friends, and I get all clammed up.

Parties=bane of my existence.

Stupid shyness :P

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