Disclaimer of sorts . . .

I'm sitting at my kitchen counter chewing on the toughest cheeseburger I've ever sunk my teeth into. It's rather disgusting, but when drenched in Ketchup almost anything tastes better. I've been busy all day but, I've taken a break to post a small update.
I feel I've let the real reason I've started this journal go. Not that I don't like what I've done with it or that it really matters at all, but I really started this as a place for everything I don't tell people. Not a very honest idea, but this is the place where I want to be completely honest.

So, this is a disclaimer of sorts. Just for me. And you. I do this in every journal. Even the ones I keep under my bed. Everything you might be offended by or bored by or . . . anything. I hate to alienate people because I may offend them. So here's what you may need to know:

*I have no religious affiliation. I'm slightly agnostic. I am, however, very open minded and interested in everyone else's religious ideas. I love nothing more then a healthy debate.
*I love to hear about other people from other countries, cities, anything. Makes the world a more united and smaller place when I can relate to someone so far away.
*I whine. A lot. About school, and people, and how I want to help but can't, and life, and homework. And boys. I'm sorry about that. But, I do.
*I'm pretty liberal in most of my opinions. Go gay marriage. Pro-choice. And so on.
*I can be overly vague. Although it's probably on purpose.
*I make spelling mistakes.
*I go on tangents, I write random fiction, I sound too vain, I contradict myself, I plan on posting my random photography. I love to know what you think. Good bad or in-between.
*I have promised not to censor myself.

Also, my name is Caity. I thought if we're going to be friends, you should at least know my name. What's yours?

Well, I thought I had more to say then that. Maybe I'll add more later. Anyway, onward to today's post:

Finished my ridiculous essay for English that's been waiting over my head for weeks. It felt good to print that out and hand it in. Even if she doesn't take full credit for it, I did it and that I am proud of. I still have work to do, but I feel content that I've finished what I have. Which is rather lame because I should just be expected to do that work, that should just be how life is. Exams are next week and I'm amazed how calm I am about them. I'm going through this Zen faze where I just keep thinking how everything is already in the past and I don't want to change it. I'll get the grades I get and know I probably deserve them because, while I've been working hard and been very busy, that effort hasn't been focused at school. I'll take life as it comes and enjoy it that way.

I'm afraid my goldfish is dying. Ricky O. Bob is one year, two months old and he's stopped eating. I take good care of him but, I'm afraid this is the beginning of the end.

In broadcast journalism today, (the class that is the death of me) we did a presentation for our quarter projects. Now, understand that this class is filled with talented people and run by an idiot. We all do little things to annoy her. It's our silent unity that I love about that class. I also love how I've connected with those people. I love how I have conversations and laughs with people I wouldn't have shared more then a smile with. All because I was in the video where we only had one take and I made a news story up off the top of my head about ancient manuscripts. Upon watching it, I don't think it was at all funny except for my very serious "news reporter face" I had even when talking about the first ever German Bible (i know) and the book on ancient rock climbing and the Book of Life. Not funny, but it somehow got me a reputation of being "sweet and entertaining and photogenic". Which I accepted.

(edited:)

So during our presentations, we had to write critics on everyone's projects. And my presentation was awful. I accept it. I mean, they like me in that class and so we just kinda laughed our way through it. But, I fear what they wrote about it.

Anyway, there is this boy who sits next to me. We've been friends for a while, but he didn't always sit there. He moved recently to be closer to another one of his friends, but we laugh together all the time about the videos or our journals or our teacher's obsession with his hair. Anyway, after my presentation, I wrote my critic of myself.

It simply said: Caity: Did she do any research at all?

Because that fit the theme of my critics and he showed me his.

He covered my name with his finger and it said:

Deliberately placed finger: Love Virgin Suicides. [one of the movies I had to write about] Caity's so nice to me!!?scribble

He dictated that to me and I just laughed. He set it down and got up to hold someone else's project and I saw what he had been covering.

It said, Caity: Pretty girl.

For some reason, it made happy all day. He's a nice guy.

I've also decided I want to make my journal more multimedia. . . friendly. So, I'm going to start posting a photo of the day. Or of the post. . All taken by me unless otherwise stated.

A photograph from London I'm rather fond of. I thought it was particularly funny since there were several offers from several attrative men to go get drinks after whatever we finished doing. And they were all so surprised we weren't 18.