Blue Roses

Well, I feel fairly confident about the quiz. I bet I got at least a C. <.g> Really, I thought it went well, indeed.

What was not fun was mom calling right as I was outside waiting for Meghan. When I answered and she sounded rather upset, I immediately assumed that she was steeling me for bad news. Which she kinda was, but not the no-nsync thing I had first imagined. <.g> Still no word. But no, she was telling me how Mayor Daley had cut into the 5pm news with the announcement that they shouldn't be alarmed, but we should be prepared for more attacks in the next few days. Wow, SO not what I wanted to hear. I mean, seriously. That's terrifying and horrible and awful, and I'm scared. Mom and Dad want me to come home. I don't want to. This was my week, damn it. I called this week, starting tomorrow to be my week of bliss. I was going to get my two assignments done, and I was going to get ahead. I was going to have fun. Going home does not figure into that, unless it's coming home at 5am Saturday morning after partying with nsync, only to leave a few hours later.

This is so stupid, but I feel guilty. All along, I insisted to mom that no more attacks could happen until the week of the 15th, because that's the only time where I could work in dealing with it into my schedule. I didn't MEAN it! I don't want ANY more attacks, and I never did. And I don't think my witchiness caused it, but I hate that I said it, and here we are.

<.shallow>
I don't care if Chicago is a target or not, if I can meet Lance Bass, I will. I will be there, attacks or no.
<./shallow>

I'm not going to let myself get overwhelmingly afraid or anxious. There is nothing I can do if people are planning to attack us again. If there was, I'd do it, but there's nothing. Being afraid won't change what's going to happen, good or bad. So I won't be. I'm going to keep on living my life, shallow bits and all, because what else is there?