Sleeping with Dogs

Never would have I imagined me sleeping with dogs. I've always been a good girl (though there was that one incident involving the water heater, but that is a whole other blog! LOL). No one, I'm sure, would think I could get myself into this mess.

But I have. I, Stasia Marie Porter, have gotten myself tangled in a mass of canines. Or rather, one canine.

I guess you're scratching your head at this point, right? You're thinking, what the hell is this girl going on about? She can't possibly be talking about "dogs" aka "mafia"! Can she?????

That depends on your point of view, I suppose.



The dog I'm talking about is sly, cunning, conniving, and manipulative (truly Slytherin worthy). So much, in fact, she managed to weasel her way into my covers the night I spent with her on the couch.

Yes, that's right, I'm speaking of Mackenzie; Jack Russel Extraordinaire! She's not only Slytherin worthy. She's in a whole other league of her own when it comes to deception and sneakiness... though one thing does differ from her and the green wearing Hogwarts students... she hates snakes. But, other than that, they're identical! I swear it!

To prove a point, here is a pic of her moments after I caught her in the act of STEALING my bed...



She is the image of an angel... an angel with a cape, forked tail and, okay she doesn't have beady eyes, but you get the picture... LOL

The point is that when you sleep with dogs you get your belongings stolen, you opinions changed, and a ache in your neck because the pup somehow managed to take up half the couch even though she's barely bigger than a soccer ball!

That's my lesson for the day folks. Don't listen to that story about "when you sleep when dogs you get flees" no, the truth is that "when you sleep with dogs you get played."

Happy New Years Everyone!!!

Until next time,
Stasia

NOTE TO READER: This blog was purely for entertainment purposes only. Though Mackenzie is indeed Slytherin worthy, and she can manipulate a bald man into buying shampoo, I adore her with my whole heart *grin*

Ho Ho Horrible Holidays...

That's a cheerful title isn't it? Ho Ho Horrible Holidays! I'm afraid that the title I've chosen is the perfect explanation for my Christmas morning. Not only for me, but I know that this time of year is stressful for everyone. Gifts to be, cookies to bake, turkey dinners to prepare, and guests to play host to... it's bound to wear people thin and I hate to admit that I was one of those people.

But, my holiday wasn't all bad. I am a Wiccan and therefore celebrate Yule - the Winter Solstice. On the 22 I lit a candle, said a prayer, and had a merry night. However, my grandma celebrates Christmas, and advidly if I may say so... but wait? I did say previously that my gram would be out of town, didn't I? Yes, that is correct. I was to be alone with Mackenzie, the pup, for the holidays. But, because of the large snow PA and MD got my gram was unable to continue with her previously made plans. So, I spent my holidays with her. The morning started out good... though Mackenzie was the only one with any presents to open. I apologize for the fuzziness of the video. I made it with my phone and it doesn't do the best of jobs. But here is Mackenzie "opening" her bones. Mom and I also got her a plush soccer ball... which she already tore most of the stuffing out before this video was taken LOL



Once the Christmas presents were opened... Mac was the only one with any to open seeing as my family isn't good with waiting until Christmas morning. I got mine the night before (Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince WOOOHOOO!!!!) So, after that, we set out to start making dinner (we were eating uncommonly early because Mom and I had to hit the road before it got too bad outside. That's when disaster hit.

That morning our neighbors walked over and asked if we had any butter. They needed it for their stuffing. Not thinking about it, Grandma gave them the butter we desperately needed for our mashed potatoes.

So, we were butter-less!

I've already pointed out that holidays are stressful times for everyone. My mom tends to be the most stressed out of anyone I've ever met during this time of year. So this oversight caused her to turn red. Me, being the peace keeper, made plans to solve the problem. I got bundled up (which, by the way, goes against my #1 rule for Christmas/Yule, which is: PAJAMAS ONLY!) and went next door to see if they had any left.

The air was chilled and my breath could be seen as I wandered up to the road and took sanctuary on the plowed pavement. My boots, which weren't made for bad weather but instead were made for fashion, slid a little on the slush and ice. But, while gripping my coat with white knuckles, I made it to their porch... only to find that they had run out of our butter.

But, not to worry, Terry had sent her husband out to search for butter... and she'll bring us over some in 10-20 minutes.

I braved the cold once more and got back home. Mom was not pleased, so 10 minutes later when we were still without butter she made us get bundled up again and this time set out in the Jeep to get butter from up the road. However, I saw our neighbors truck pulling into their driveway.

We drove over and THANK THE GODS, they had two sticks of blue bonnet butter for us :D

That, my friends, was the great and cold butter exchange of Christmas 2009.

After that we ate, watched movies, let the drama die down, and we relaxed... until we had to drive home. That wasn't very fun. I couldn't see at all and I wasn't the one who was driving. Mom had Bubby on her (the bird) and he was being a nasty little bugger. I was scared we were going to go pivoting off the road... but we made it. We made it safe and sound back to our apartment just in time to hear the fire whistle go off.

I hope all of you had a great, safe, and butter-filled holiday!

Stay warm!

Until next time,
Stasia

Santa Clause is coming to Town

He see’s you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good… so be good for goodness sakes!

For those of you who don’t know, I write a letter to Santa every year on the night of Yule. Well, I write it before then… but the 21st of December is when I send it out to Santa and the Divine. And yes, I do realize that Yule isn’t until tomorrow, but I have a good reason for posting this a day earlier than I’d originally planned. See, as I’ve already said in one of my other blogs, my grandma is going out of town over the holidays and that leaves poor puppy (HA!) Mackenzie all by her lonesome. I can’t have that. We’d planned to have her come stay with us… but Mom and I thought a little more on that and decided against it. I love my apartment, but I know Mac will not. And, besides that, our neighbors are loud and have a dog of their own; and Mac will NOT like that AT ALL. She’ll bark all night and none of us will get any sleep.



So, to make a long story short, I’m going to spend the first week of my winter break at my grandma’s house with Mackenzie. And, since my grandma does not have the internet, I wanted to get this post out before I left (tomorrow after school).

Anyway, let’s get back to the most important thing here: my letter to Santa!

Sometimes I write in one loose leaf paper, or printer paper, or sometimes I go to Walmart and buy some stationary… it doesn’t matter what it’s written on as long as I’m able to put it on my alter for the night and then store it in my treasure chest for the following year.

Now, before I go any further I want to tell you that I don’t see a Santa letter as a way to ask mom for presents. To be completely serious, Yule isn’t seen as a time to get presents in my house. We sing carols, drink hot chocolate, bake cookies, and generally just spend time together and watch the sun set on the shortest day of the year. Then, as the sun sets, we celebrate in knowing that the sun will now be staying out longer.

Instead of a list of “what I want for Christmas” I use my letter as a list of “what I want for the year”. It’s kind of like New Year’s resolutions, except instead of things I want to accomplish or stop doing, I write a list of things that I want to come my way.

I make up my letter and send it to Santa and the Divine; knowing that what I’ve written on my list is now being taken care of by them. I know my wants will come to be because I have faith that what I have sent out into the universe (my wants) will come back to me 3 times (aka the Law of Three).

Now, if those aren’t your beliefs that it totally cool. But, writing a Santa letter isn’t a tradition owned by a single religion. Santa Clause can be traced in every culture, every religion, and every nation. So, whether you are Wiccan, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Celtic, Atheist, etc I encourage you to write a Santa Letter this year.

Below, I’ve included my Santa Letter for the year 2010:

Dear Santa,

First, thank you for all the joy and love and creativity you have sent my way in the previous year. I am truly grateful. You’ve guided the muses my way and helped me through some tough spots. Without you and your comforting energy I wouldn’t have made it out as well as I had. You are truly amazing!

I know you’re busy so I’ll get right down to business:

For the coming year, as always, I want lots of creative energy. Allow the muses to visit me almost constantly so I may write quickly, confidently and without hesitation or frustration. Let the words flow from my mind and thoughts right through my fingers and onto the Word document. I’d love for some steady cash flow to make its way into my life; so please ensure that at least 2 of my books are published this year!

To be more specific:

In the year 2010, Santa, I need you to help me write 3 novels. I need the plots to be precise and clear, the conflict amazing and strong, and the characters brave, loyal and relatable.

I wish for happiness, love, and creativity to flow without bounds through my apartment and in the life’s of me and my mom.

In addition to work, I wish for my driver’s license and I wish for both the car and the jeep to run smoothly and beautifully.

Oh, and please help me with my forensics speeches and competitions. I’d like to make the school and myself proud by placing and making it to at least States.

Send me the self discipline to eat healthier and drink lots more water. I want to exercise more. Please allow the winter to be short so I can get back to running instead of just working out inside.

And, as always, I reserve the right to change and alter this list at any time during the year.

Love,
Stasia

I hope all of you have a Fantastic holiday!

Until next time,
Stasia

Forensics

You're about to step into a world of suits, heels for girls, ties for boys, and the art of talking to walls. That's right, you're entering the land of Forensics Meets.

The bus rolls into the campus, we get out and face the bitter December wind, snow, and ice that have come out to greet us, and then head inside... and find that their school hasn't dismissed yet. That means that we had to practically tiptoe down the hall to the cafeteria (which was the meeting ground for the forensics teams).

We sat, prepared, taught my mom the ins and outs of judging a forensics round, and watched the other teams come in and do the same. That's when my category was called out of the room... and also when the fire alarm went off.

Standing up, people went to leave through the nearest exit (obviously thinking a fire alarm meant there actually was a fire in the building... silly rabbits... but no, apparently the fire alarm was just excited we were all there. That's the only reason for the disruption I could think of).

The extemporaneous (my category) and commentary were then taken to the library upstairs.

Now, remember, the fire alarm went off. It's still going. Every three minutes or so it comes back, then turns off, then comes back on, and then goes off. Then this guy comes on the loud speakers and says, "Please pardon the interruption but the fire alarm is going to go off, but please do not exit the building." A little late, don't you think?

Anyway, finally the noise dies down and we are free to get our instructions for extemp and com (forensics names for the long names of the categories).

We are told that soon we will draw for speaking order and then the competitors, in the order they are speaking, will come up and choose their topics.

But, let me explain extemp and com. These two categories are different than any other category in Forensics. First, we don't have a speech to memories prior to the meet. No, we actually get our topics when we get there. When our numbers are called (not our names, but our assigned numbers) we approach the table and choose three of the dozen face down slips of paper. Then, from the three, we can pick one of the topics. That will be the topic of our speech. Then we have 30 minutes after picking our topics to make our speeches. We have a single index card, which we can only have 50 words on, to take to the round with us. This happens three times (a new speech for each round).

With extemp our topics will be a question. One of mine was "Is enough being done to prevent the spread of H1N1?". For com, they have a word. The person who did com for my school had the topic of "Patrick Swayze".

So, anyway, there we are. There are about 16 competitors in the library. 12 are for com and the other 4 are for extemp.

After getting our speaking order, gradually people are being called up to choose their topics. That's when the action starts.

When people hear forensics (my mom thought about crime scenes, but... anyway) people think about speeches. But really, there's a ton of stuff that goes on. One girl kept redoing her hair. A boy (who, by the way, won nationals last year) is organizing his files and then highlighting in new magazines (wow!) and then there's this other girl who just sits and stares at everyone.

Me, I was reading since there wasn't anything else to do at that time since I had yet to get my topic. That's when I felt the need to use the restroom. That's also when my number was called to pick my topic. So, for the next 40 minutes I wrote out my speech, talked to the wall (which is how all forensics kids recite their speeches before their round) and wishing I could go to the bathroom.

Here are the times for each of my rounds:
Round 1: 3:14
Round 2: 5:17
Round 3: 4:04

My best and favorite round was Round 2. I had a political question "What is the probability of there being a national vote in Iraq in January?"

I wasn't nervous, but during my last round I was really restless. I was starving! and my feet were killing me. Thankfully I still didn't have to use the bathroom at that time because I went between the rounds.

At this time I'd like to point out that I was in the room from 1:30 to 5:45 except when I took 4 minute trips downstairs to the restroom.

After the 3 rounds I went downstairs, my team ordered pizza, and then the awards ceremony started.

I got 3rd place in Extemp!!! I was SOOO excited, seeing as this was my first time ever doing extemp.

Until next time,
Stasia

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Soccer's my Sport

I believe, in a previous blog, that when it comes to gym class soccer is my demise. It's not that I'm not a good player. Actually, to toot my own horn, I must admit that soccer is my game and I can play it hands down (hehe get it?).

But, anyway, let me get to today's point. Soccer is my sport, but my current gym class has a strange practice when it comes to the game. Let me paint you a picture:

First thing you need to know is that we play soccer inside. Yep, you read right, we play soccer INSIDE. Personally I think that should be against the law, but whatever *shrug*. But that's not even the worst thing. My coach has us play with a plastic bouncy ball.

So, obviously I never got into the game that much in gym class. Indoors and with a bouncy ball. What has the world come to?

But, that is not the story today (or last week because I am a little late with this blog post). Today my coach brought out a REAL soccer ball. We were still going to play inside, but this opened up a whole other world for me. The world I love and cherish. The world of soccer.

Before I continue, I need to warn you about something. The kids at my school are under the impression that I am a calm, little, quiet, polite girl. Now, I am a very polite and respectful person, but I'm rarely quiet when I'm outside of those concrete walls of BV High School. But, that's how they know me. I like to keep out of every one's way so the day goes by without a hitch. So, it wouldn't be far off the marker to say that my classmates were a little shocked when I literally elbowed (not hit mind you, but elbowed) one of the opposing players out of my way and stole the ball right out from under her feet.

That's right, soccer is my sport. I take no mercy, take the game as serious as a heart attack, and am in it to win it.

Which, we did, by the way. My team won :D

Well, that's is my blog for today. Next time I'll make sure the story I tell is humorous instead of informative.

Until next time,
Stasia

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

Well, really it’s a Yule Tree, but... Details *shrugs*. It’s a purple Yule tree to be exact.




After writing a few pages, I got to thinking. Okay, so I was surfing around on youtube listening to songs that popped into my head. That’s when I found Aly and AJ’s Christmas CD. Now, I do in fact own this CD, but at that particular moment in time I had to be on my best behavior; meaning that I had to be quiet because Mom was taking a nap before heading to work. Seeing as I couldn’t blare it from my stereo, I settled for playing it softly on my computer.

That’s when the Yuletide spirit hit me.

Before any of you say it I will tell you: I am not procrastinating. I repeat: I am not procrastinating.

Okay, maybe I am just a little LOL



Usually I decorate the tree at my grandma’s house. It’s practically a law that I’m the only one who can touch it… primarily because I’m the only one who knows how to set the thing up… but anyway… this year mom and I are having Yule/Christmas alone. Grandma is heading to Baltimore, MD to visit with some family, so I don’t really get to decorate over at her house.

But, that doesn’t mean I don’t get to decorate.

The apartment Mom and I live in is relatively small… okay it’s very small… but we got ourselves a Yule Tree. It was only $15 at Walmart. Can you beat that? It’s purple, it’s pretty, and to me it was exactly what we needed to ensure we have a magickal holiday *grin*
So, with Aly and AJ’s “Rocking around the Christmas Tree” “Deck the Halls” “Drummer Boy” and “Jingle Bell Rock” playing in the background I got to work on getting the house in the spirit. (I refuse to play “Let it Snow” because that’s the last thing I want to happen right now. Sure, I love snow, but the apartment isn’t equip yet for snow ((I’ll spell it out for you: the apartment is drafty, cold, and DRAFTY!) LOL )

The first thing I started with was Bran. Yes, that is Bran in the picture. A gorgeous statue that Mom bought me over the summer, he represents an Alpha to me. And yes, that is a Santa “Angel” hat on his head. I couldn’t help myself… though I don’t think he’s that pleased HAHAHA

Bran sits by my desk so now whenever I look at him, I can smile and remember that Yule is here *grin*



Then, I got out the purple Yule tree and the select few ornaments that we have. This is the first year we’re not having Christmas at my grandma’s (she’s traveling as I’ve already said) so I don’t have all the decorations I normally have at my beck and call… but that’s okay. These three decorations: the 101 Dalmatians, The Wild Thornberries and Tigger, are enough to make my smile never ending!

Now I am off to make some hot chocolate… because nothing to me says Yule more than hot chocolate *grin*



I hope you all have a great holiday!
Happy Yule,
Stasia Porter

Speech Writing

Anyone out there a senior? If so, then you understand the horror and aggravation that comes with senior projects. ICK! Now, before I go further into my rant let me explain exactly what my school defines as a senior project. At Blacklick Valley a senior project includes a powerpoint presentation of what you’re going to do with your life after high school graduation and a speech to go along with it.

Yep, that’s it. Exciting, huh? Nope, not at all.

I finished the powerpoint a month ago, but couldn’t get into writing the speech. Go figure; a writer who can’t write a damn speech. Well, you have to understand where I’m coming from. My job is to talk in front of my class and keep them from falling asleep. Do you know how hard that is?!? So, I was kind of stressing.

It didn’t help either that Mom just got promoted and her hours now coincided with mine. Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom! She’s my best friend! But now she’s always home when I’m home. That means that as soon as I sit down at the computer and get in the mood to throw words at the screen I hear, “Stace, come here.” “Stace, come see this.” “Stace, what are we having for dinner?” which then means I have to get up and make said dinner. “

The list could go on and on and on, but I won’t bore you with all of them. The point is that I haven’t gotten ANY writing done in days. Not just writing my speech… ANY writing.

So, today, I came up with a solution. I grabbed my laptop and went into the one room she couldn’t follow me into. That’s right, I’m closet writing again. HAHAH

But, I did it. I finally finished the speech. All 3 pages of it.

Until next time, after I make up the other writing I got behind in,
Stasia

Gym class = war!

How many of you out there have suffered during high school (or any school) gym class? Just me... well don't I feel stupid. No, really, I'm pretty positive that this is not a rare thing. In some point of your life I'm sure something during gym class has scarred you for life. For me, it's always been when we play soccer.

When I attended Sparrows Point high school in Balt. PA, this kid on my team (we'll call him Bob) went to pass me the ball. Let me just say that we were less than four feet apart. He kicked with his laces! His laces! What do you think happened? Take a wild guess. You've got it... the ball hit me right in the stomach. I went down and all the air left my lungs. How wonderful. The coach sent me straight to the nurse *rolls eyes*

However, this time it wasn't soccer where I was taken down. On Thursday we played football in gym.

We were 3 to 4 (tooting my own horn, I'd like to point out that I'd scored 1 of those 4 scores LOL and assisted in another) when I was passed the ball. Catching it and clutching it tight, I took off running.



I was tagged three feet away from the line and then slammed into from the side. And man, let me tell you, I went down... but I still kept a hold of the ball!

But, don't worry, it didn't hurt. Really, I thought it was very entertaining. Maria, the girl who double tagged me, hugged me profusely afterwards. She's great, a good friend, and an AWESOME football player *grin*

Oh, and that pic is not from gym class. At Blacklick (my current school) I have never once had gym class outside. That is actually a picture (taken by my friend Wiggy) of my school's Powderpuff football game: where the girls play and the boys cheer. I helped the band raise energy in the bleachers, but didn't get to play. I was actually injured. My shoulder was totally messed up (it's good now *grin*)

Gym isn't all that bad... except when we play soccer... which is done INDOORS with a BOUNCY BALL! Seriously, what has this world come to??? HAHAHA

Mom tells me to just stay on the side lines and keep out of the way of the ball, but can you really see that happening? I certainly can't. I've always been a very competitive person as well as an athlete, and I always will be!!! *grin*

I hope all your gym classes are just as fun as mine... but minus the injuries LOL

Until next time,
Stasia

A Special Announcement

Or, at least, that would have been the Special Announcement if I'd been home alone. However, that is not the case as you can see...



So, really the Special Announcement is: Popcorn without butter is INSANE!

Get your careers here! Come get your careers!

Come one come all to the Cambria County Career Fair! We'll get you set on the path to your future in a half an hour or less. You have questions? Well, we have answers! Tell your friends, tell your parents, and tell those who are in need of a wake up call. This is your future. Don't be lazy about it!

I had you going there didn't I? I bet you were scrolling up and down making sure you had the right blog. You might have even left and came back to be 100% sure you hadn't wandered onto Cambria County's site. Well, you haven't. This is still The Sorta, Maybe, Hopefully Happily Ever After blog by Stasia Porter.

So, what was that whole intro about, you ask? Well that's a good question. And like I said earlier, I have answers (LOL I'm having fun with this. TIP: while you read this use a fake sounding announcer voice. It's ALL the more fun!!! *grin*)

Today is Monday November 9th. While that may mean nothing to you, it meant something to my school's guidance counselor. Mr. G planned out a trip for the senior class. You guessed it: we're going to Disney Land!!!

Okay, I lied. Really, we were going to the Cambria County Career Fair. Can you say WHOOPI!!! No? If that was your answer, don't worry about it. So was mine. But, I was determined to go... if only for the fact that it got me out of gym class (normally I'm all for gym but we're just walking laps. If we'd been playing volleyball yet then I'd have NEVER signed up to go!).

We got there around 9:45 and were immediately greeted with a woman named Ginger. Happy and uplifting, she had me believing my doubts were unjustified. However, after meeting the wonderful hostess, we were ushered into a room that, though was quite large, was only half full of careers. Half! There was tons of space, but instead of spreading out the presentations they had them squished together so it was impossible for more than three people to huddle around a table at a time... unless you wanted to brave the hungry and obviously sugar deprived teenagers who were running to the Wound Healing table where the two ladies were handing out Jolly Ranchers.



If only they had a career there about directing traffic. That would have fixed everything. But, alas, we were out of luck. LOL

That's when I met him = the primary reason behind thie blog. And no, before you ask, I'm not talking about some cute guy. I'm talking about a presenter that puts car salesmen to shame... or he would if I wasn't so stubborn LOL.

By this time me and my friend had already made the rounds three times (and gotten ourselves a jolly rancher each time hehe) and were merely waiting for the clock to strike 10:30. We mingled, chatted with friends, and stared strangely at the bones sitting on the physical therapy table (fake bones, I assure you). That's when my friend led me to the Mount Aloysius College table. She'd gone to summer camp there and wanted to show me some things on the map. That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was not leaving as soon as she'd pointed out what she wanted to show me. We should have fled... ran like the wind. But, we didn't so we were stuck.

Now, just so you know, the guy manning the table had previously been sitting behind his tall poster boards (hiding it appeared) as he texted. Who he was hiding from is a mystery, considering he didn't seem that shy around students.

We'd stood there two seconds longer when he jumped up from his chair and exclaimed, in a fake chipper tone, "Hey there!"

For the next ten minutes I was engrossed in a debate with this man; explaining that I already had a major and college picked out and that, NO I wasn't going to change my mind simply because Aloysius is a good school.

So, there you have it: my day at a career fair. Did I learn about the career I'm interested in? No. Did I wind up meeting the love of my life? No. Did Dorothy Morrison show up as an unexpected guest? NO *pout*. But, it was worth it because I got candy! HAHA


Until Next Time,
Stasia

Finally... I'm here

Let me just say that I've spent the last hour working on this blog. There were arguments (between me and the computer), breaks to make and then eat dinner, and the trials of getting my twitter updates on here... but I did it. I'm finally on blogger.

This post isn't going to be about the constant drama of my life, or the fact that mom nearly burnt the place down this morning while trying to make a grilled cheese. No, this is merely an introduction.

So, without further ado, I present myself.

My name is Stasia Porter and I am a professional day dreamer. You think that's funny? Well, that's probably because you think I'm kidding. Technically that's what I get paid to do. I'm an author. I write the stories my mind makes up - aka professional daydreamer.

You want to know a little more....? okay, but remember you asked for it. My story is long and full of twists, even though it's only been 18 years that I've been alive. Let's start from the beginning. I was named Stasia, presumably after my mom's favorite Aunt. But, I don't believe that. I have no doubt that I was named Stasia because the Divine wanted just another way to link me to Russia (we'll get more into that in a bit).

Born in Baltimore, MD I am a natural speed-talker and world champion gesticulator (meaning I talk with my hands LOL). My family is loud... so loud in fact that I learned early on that if I wanted to tell my story I had to be louder than everyone else. That's just how it goes around my family. So, if you are ever talking to me and I tend to get louder, I'm certainly not yelling at you or anyone else. It's just natural for me, my mom, my grandma... etc to do that.

Moving on... and I mean literally too. I'm 18 and I've had 10+ houses. Mom and I have gypsy blood running through out veins. Whether or not that's actually true is besides the point. The point is that I can't stand staying in the same place for too long. I get bored... and I hate being bored.

Currently I live in Nanty Glo, PA: what I refer to as the "smallest of small towns" with my mom and her bird Bubby. I am a senior in high school and am more than ready to jump into the college life next year. I don't mean partying. I doubt I'll go to more than one party in my four years of college. I'm just totally jazzed about majoring in Russian.

Why do I love Russia, you ask? See the thing is, I can't ever explain why I love Russia. I just always have. Whether it's their history, culture or language, I'm obsessed! It doesn't matter what I'm doing: watching TV, surfing the net, or reading a good: I find something concerning Russia. They pop up all over the place where I'm concerned! I'm not kidding, ask my mom. LOL

Well, that's my basic story.

Until next time,
Stasia Porter