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It's getting to the end of the trimester now, the end of November marks it. my school runs on a trimester schedule, which is very cool and matriarchal (not that that was their intention), but it also means there are pregnancy jokes to make down every avenue you turn. I could get pregnant in September and literally drop a baby out on graduation. imagine though, the valedictorian or whoever giving a speech on the amazingness of our class and I just try to quietly have a baby in my cap and gown. very punk rock, i know, but I would never do that.
But the shit thing about being in a trimester schedule is that the winter is fuck-long. Fuck-long is a new word I just made up to describe things that are very long. i'm expecting it to appear in the Merriam-Webster dictionary in about three years.
man. trimester? i hardly know her.
It also means colleges are going to zero in on my zeroes (or what will hopefully become an absence of zeroes once i get off SpaceHey and start actually doing my missing assignments) and then choose whether or not to admit me into their establishments.
and it will work. they'll just be overtaken by a wanting to admit me. and they will. and it will be amazing.
manifestation? more like "admit me to college please".
good luck with y'alls schools.
this is more of a side note, but I feel like a great midwestern emo song could be made about like a guy's ex-girlfriend having a baby on graduation day and he's upset because it means she got with a guy at the beginning of the school year (and that was when they were dating). It could include some uncertainty about the baby's father...some introspectiveness on the jealousy...
capital records should hire me as a songwriter.
peace out
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