Updates

So, I know I have been a little flaky with the updates lately, sorry about that. Things have been sorta hectic around here lately. My senior year is winding down and it looks like I'll be attending my local public university in the fall. I was a bit disappointed a month ago when I realized that it was probably the best option. Since then, I've felt like I've been living outside of myself to a certain extent, like an outside observer peeking into the goings-on in my own life. I was admitted to several prestigious private universities, my first pick among them, but in the end money trumps all, and you can't beat a practically free education. Besides, I was admitted to an select "honors program" within the university which will give me access to smaller specialty classes along with some other convenient perks. All in all, it won't be terrible. But there is a certain exhilarating feeling that accompanies resignation, a feeling of losing control and surrendering to forces completely outside of your control. I've tried hard in school, not as hard as I could have, but hard enough to sneak into a select group of students who have obviously tried much harder than I have to achieve not that much more. In this way, I feel like I've maintained a certain degree of academic excellence without sacrificing my last bit of personality or creativity.

Plus, my uncle sent me a new laptop as an early graduation present, and my shallow love for technology has provided with a means for temporary escape from any subtle wallowing that might plague most kids in my situation. The other day my mother told me though that I had handled this entire decision making process with a lot of maturity and logic but I couldn't help but admit on the inside that it simply felt out of my control. I told her that I was just making the best choices for the long term. And that's true too, I suppose.

Today I took my dog, Killer, for a walk in the park. I brought along a few tennis balls to entertain myself with. And when I say "entertain myself", I do mean, quite literally, "myself". You see, for my dog, a game of fetch is not a game at all but simply practice for the day when I once again allow her to roam the streets of our town hunting down squirrels to feed her illegitimate puppies, which is what she did as a stray. So for her, its not fun and games. However, for me the story is quite different. I must confess, there are few things I find more sincerely gratifying than watching my dog practically explode with canine excitement at the mere glimpse of a fuzzy yellow ball. It is during these moments of mindless, instinctual activity that I really do question both he sanity and intelligence of my dog. I've never been on to subscribe to the romantic notion of dog as man's best friend, with keen insight and loyalty to humans. No, instead I'm forced to accept the fact that my dog's intelligence would be more aptly compared to that of a dumb fish or even a plant. I can't decide whether or not her lack of intelligence helps her to lead a more enjoyable life.