1. my informal poses: for the people who know me, you probably know i was trying (unfortunately to no avail) to prove something. haha. you see, i'm a huge critic of the whole princess thing (sorry princess friends, but you know how i am), so i decided to "act" like one. that includes wearing ridiculous accessories (the star clip) and posing ditzily (ok, i know most "princesses" are smart, but i'm playing with the stereotype). again, I'M NOT LIKE THAT, REALLY.
2. my prophecy: the class prophecy should be written by a couple of assigned students but since my lazy ass class wanted the easy way out, we passed around a sheet of paper wherein we wrote what we want to happen to ourselves in the future. i think there has been a mistake. it says there, "julie is going to be a comedy icon known only by her first name". i distinctly remember having written "first lady, known only by my first name (kinda like evita)" i am not comedienne. i will never be a comedienne. howkay? so don't approach me asking for a joke. i don't invent them, i get them from people with unlimitxt.
3. formal grad pic: i don't know, it's just wrong.
so there. because i'm a lazy ass, arrogant idealist, my yearbook page is all screwed.
so far, none of my plans for this sem has pushed through. i love how i never get things done right, if i get them done at all. nagseself-pity nako niyan.
ay pakshet i can't believe i almost forgot to completely tear our yearbook apart in my blog. julie, what a shame. see, i'm losing my, what do you call it, meanness? yeah i'm declaring that a word from now on. i can't seem to say anything cleverly evil anymore. aww.
until the yearbook came out. what a *toooooooting**toooooting* heap of *tooooot*. two years? two frickin' years? it took them two years to create a pile of... would've only taken me around ten minutes. what really, really got to me, was the 3-page events section. wow. so that about raps up the four supposedly absofuckinglutely fun fun fun years of our lives? dayum, we're lotsafun aren't we?
wow. something's up with me, really. i actually feel guilty about the things i just wrote. pam quizon! if you're reading this. i love you. you made me realize (with your palanca) how badly i need to, uhm, bitch myself up again.