Fly Like Paper, Get High Like Planes

I fly like paper, get high like planes.

...

Not really, I don't do drugs (but I guess my last post could counter that last statement. Oh well, I don't care if you judge me.) I just like MIA's song "Paper Planes". It's catchy. And played on shuffle. And it made for a nice, tranquil ride home.

Yeah, so after I got home from chillin' with that clay splattering bestie of mine, my mom ordered pizza for the family. I always get Round Table because I like this certain type, and I pretty much don't eat any other kind of pizza ((pan crust, spinach, olive, and white sauce (yeah yeah, you immature pervs, white sauce)); my mom and her boyfriend got Big Daddy's pizza (which, coincidentally, my neighbors own). So, I leave to pick up the orders - since my mom is seemingly against delivery - and after I get my pizza, I drive off to get Big Daddy's. I like going the back ways to places because I like listening to the radio (and Bruno Mars' "Grenade" is too much fun to sing), and so on my way there, I drive past my local Vons market.

And guess who is there, pushing carts back to the automatic doors? My own personal nemesis, whom we shall call "Janice". And no, Janice is not a woman. He used to be a good friend, until some drama erupted, and I haven't talked to him since Spring Break of my Junior year. No, Janice is not a woman, but he has the hormones of one, despite biologically being a man. I'm over our little dispute, but seeing him still brings out some bitterness.

So, I stared a little as I drove by, but quickly turned my head as he noticed me driving past him in the family car. As I turned the corner, I kind of smirked, but it got me thinking.

I finally get to the other pizza place, and I see an old classmate of mine working there. He lived up my street a while ago (his name's Wes). He was kind of a dick, but some people just naturally are, so you can't really help it. Life just throws you curveballs, and sometimes you end up catching them without a baseball glove...which really frackin' hurts. Thus life is: something that hurts, yet you end up gaining something through your mistakes. When I went to school with Wes, we didn't really talk that much, except in summer school, and that was a long-ass time ago. However, he'd always call my friend "Anime Fag" and overall just be...a dick.

Anyway.

He apparently works at the pizza place. We managed to make some small talk, which killed any awkwardness that could haver permeated the air, but I bought the pizza and left. As I walked to the car, I started thinking some more.

So, I got home, ate my pizza while watching America's Next Top Model (lmfao I'm unconventional), and planned out this post.

I'm graduating this upcoming Thursday - actually, I may be short 5 effing math credits - and in August I (hopefully) start my new life as a college student. From there on, I suppose I plan on getting a journalism degree, writing degree of some sort, or English degree, or English teaching degree. I said screw it to Biology. Writing is way more fun anyway. And that means that I don't have to see math ever again except for my taxes and grocery expenses.

I presented a speech in class yesterday, and my teacher told me that I'll become one of the journalists for Time Magazine one day because of my writing skills. Hopefully, if I can make it that far, I'll become the person people expect me to be - hopefully, I'll be the person I expect myself to be. Do I want to be the one bagging the groceries, or making the pizzas? Would I be able to support myself, and all my dreams, on a simple wage of eight dollars an hour? I can only wait and see how my life turns out; and hopefully, when I see Janice bagging my groceries twenty years from now, when I'm back from some battle zone for an interview with America's top army general, I can tell him to give me paper bags, and to "Suck it, bitch."

Heh, aren't we all just optimistic for the future.

[I'm not bashing minimun wage jobs, I'm just emphasizing a thought with a real-life experience. I'll kill (not really, freako) for a job right now. Gas isn't cheap.]