A lot of descriptive ranting

I'm very happy, although I'm pretty much dying and coughing up a lung right now. Sugar is once more sleeping in a fuzzy heap of cuteness on my feet and my head is cloudy with ghosts of homework past. I just finished writing a 5 page literary analysis of Harrison Bergeron, which I must say was a great accomplishment and I'm quite pleased with myself. Not only that, but in addition to my brilliant masterpiece of literary wit, in a few short hours I also accomplished filling out one of Mr. Kohl's infamous and meticulous double-sided graphic organizers, created a political cartoon, and took extensive notes for my online college Sociology class. So, yes I'm feeling quite smug and self-important. Oh goodness, Sugar's ears are so silky. A funny sidenote: if you bite her ears very lightly, she'll turn her head and smother your lips and nostrils in wet and tender kisses. It's quite nice; makes me feel loved. I'm at the present reading The Mists of Avalon, which I'm finding a very satisfying read. Knowing that I descended from these kinds of barbarian people makes me feel very important and savage. When I'm sitting in school learning about things that do not pertain whatsoever to my career of choice, I often dream of a time instead where I might have painted myself blue and donned deerskins, and then I'd run all over the place and dance around mystical fires. This livens up my Government class considerably. I used to, in fact, have an imaginary boyfriend (claiming that's the best kind, and I've learned the hard way and can say now with perfect certainty that it is indeed true) named Jimothy who flew me away from class to exotic locations such as Australia where we would have great adventures and mixed drinks. These out of body experiences were usually enough to keep me awake. I find that in addition to fantasy worlds inside your head, there are other worlds you can enter as well, in a similar mystical fashion. One of the great ones is music. For example: I left school today feeling downtrodden and unloved. It had been a very long day, and many depressing things happened. One particularly disturbing thing nagging at my brain had pretty much enveloped me in a cloud of bitter and lonely angst. And then, I went to violin lessons with Fritz. The next 45 minutes erased all thoughts from my head except for long bowstrokes and the delicate technique of executing a flawless vibrato. I had entered the misty world of music, and coaxing those rich and otherworldly tones from the cheap violin upon which my face rested euphorically was my only true care. I forgot about everything else and spent almost a full delicious hour emersed in that beautiful and elusive state of mind. Once I started my car for the drive home, I was blasted by the loud chorus of Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm and was shaken out of my musical reverie. It was sad. This much to say that when normal life is boring, it's possible to transport yourself somewhere else. Not in a bizarre and blasphemous 'I sleep with crystals under my pillow and pray to dogs with eight and a half legs growing out of their backs' kind of way, but just a frame of mind. I find this also happens when you spend time with God. This ancient ritual, existent from the dawn of time and the birth of this wretched planet, of communing with the all-seeing, omniscient, omnipresent and all-powerful God of the universe will of course take you to a different place. Because God is so much the opposite of the world we live in, save for the pure creation such as nature, it is only to be expected that when you are spending personal time with him, that you would forget about the world you're currently living in and enter another. These extra worlds are what get me through the mundane and petty rituals of life. I know what I'm meant for and what God wants me to do with my life, but in order to achieve it I must be stuck in this pitiful thing called high school, and it's awful. If I could seriously just go to a place where I learned and studied without the impediment of arrogant teachers and small-minded, shallow students, I'd be a much happier woman. But rather than focusing on practical things and big pictures, I spend my time like this- a whole hour in my Advanced Composition class listening to loud conversations about superficial and illegal things that repulse me, wondering why the teacher doesn't teach us. Seriously, if I'm doing all the work and the teacher hands out the books and tells you 'don't ask me any questions, look it up' then shouldn't I be getting paid a teacher's salary? Well...I've done my fair share of ranting and such, and now all I'm really thinking is that my eyebrows are getting out of control. And that my foot's fallen asleep. But anyway...that's pretty much it for tonight, I hope that my ramblings of ridiculously detailed and dramatic nature have quenched your thirst for a scuba dive into Ciara's brain. As usual...
Much love and awkward hugs
Ciara