How unfortunate.

How very, very unfortunate.

Chris McCandless was no hero. I'm sorry to say so, but he just wasn't. Dying doesn't make you a hero. Dying to save others, might. Chris's story was just unfortunate. Not tragic.

So to all you wannabe Tolstoyan 15-year-olds: please don't die for want of heroism. People like me will blog about your death and eventually make an ass of you. I'm sorry, but such is the world.

On another note, the nice thing about remaining completely unnoticed is that you pick up on a lot of things. No one seems to notice or care that you're in the room, or if they do, they disregard you. "You won't say anything, right?" they ask. "'Course not," you say, but honestly you're sorely tempted. You hear about who broke up with who, and who called who a slut, and why no one likes so-and-so all of a sudden. People know that you know and they ask and maybe you tell, but for the most part you keep quiet.

I'm now in the science club. What kind of science? I'm not sure yet. Medical, please?

And also...

I miss you so much it hurts.

Jealousy

Oh yes, I'm so very happy for you. Incredibly. He's really very hot. And yes your new haircut is fabulous. I know I know I know that you know that someone will come along for me soon. I appreciate your faith. Really.


Except that I sort of feel like killing you.


Oh, and you. You. You who I swore I'd never speak to again.

I wanna talk to you.

At least I've cleaned up my desk.

Yes, We, CAN!

Today, despite its rather pitiful ending, was amazing.
I, as well as everyone else reading this right now, was alive for a historic moment in history. And hopefully, most of you witnessed it.

Barack Hussein Obama was sworn into the office of President of the United States. He is the first African-American man to hold the position.

But that's not why we should be proud of America.

We shouldn't be proud of America for electing a black president. Every other country in the world, more or less, has had somebody other than a white man in office. In that respect, we are far behing.

We should be proud of America for choosing hope.

In the words of our new President, we shall be judged on "...what you can build, not what you destroy."

In times of crisis, we panic and run to our weaponry in the hopes that it will make the problem go away.

But hope trumps fear. Always.

I have hope for our country.

Nonetheless I can't help but to feel a bit sorry for our former President George W. Bush.

Personally, I thought he was a moron. But the man has been in office for eight long years, the whole time doing what he believed to be right. I don't think it's right. And I'm not the only one.

But he got basically endless abuse over the course of his past year, and very few people will be sorry to see the back of him.

To know that that's what you're leaving behind, that's how you're going to be remembered...that just doesn't feel good. Your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, all but wasted.

So, from a completely human, non-political standpoint, my heart goes out to you, Mr. Bush. I'm sorry it couldn't have gone better.

Cinderella did not like her ball.

Rather unfortunate, says I.

But my feet hurt, I had that damn Under 21 stamp that meant I could only be in two rooms, and it wasn't a ball so much as a drunken party.

I never met that handsome stranger.

"And the last dance girl

in her first dance swirl

lays her head down on the wooden floor

won't be dancing anymore..."

--The Fratellis, Milk and Money

Why hello there.

It's lovely to meet you.


My name is Rose.


One day i'm either going to be a world-famous singer, a renowned neurologist, or a high-class hooker. Not sure what, yet.


We'll see how it plays out.


Or, and this would be preferable, an ambassador to Earth, travelling the universe with a handsome young man in a blue police phone box.


I don't know what I'm going to be, just yet. I only know what I am.


And what I am today is a young lady who's going to a ball tomorrow. A ball to commemorate the inauguration of historic president Barack Obama.


What will you be? :-)