I am going to try hard from now on. Not just to succeed in this semester, but I am going to try to cultivate attitudes and skills that I can use forever to be successful.

Today I am going to buy a planner. Though it was tiresome, a planner did help me stay aware of what was going on when I was in high school.

As soon as I can, I am going to sign up for housing next fall. That way I have something to look forward to. I am going to ask my crush to be my roommate next year. Either that will drive him into my arms or convince me I don't want him. He also is very studious, so it'll be a good example and maybe I can get him to do work for me.

I am going to email my professors and grovel for everything I can get.

I am going to pay my 60 dollar library fine so I can sign up for next semester's classes.

I feel very sad right now. If someone asked me how I was, I'd say I was fine. But that denies the reason I am sad. I'm sad because I'm all alone. I want someone to be worried about me, but I feel like no one cares.

I understand my crush doesn't like me at all, but when I feel the way I do now, all I want to do is see him. I really just want to see someone and have hope. I just want male attention from males who aren't going to drain me. It's sad for me that my crush doesn't like me. If he could love me, I would have been so right for him.

And what am I supposed to do? I feel unable to just let go, and every time he sees me and is nice out of policy, I am going to read into it way too much. I don't want to go to my classes for the rest of the day, but I feel I should because I don't want to fail. But really I just want to lay down and die and wait until tomorrow when I can go out with my friends and hopefully get the attention I want.

I feel ruined by the guys I gave everything to but who didn't want me. I have exploited myself and revealed every weakness and I have nothing to show for it.

I kind of wish I was authentically crazy, like with psychosis or something. That way, I wouldn't have to "play" the victim.

I really just wish I had an actual reason to be hurt by these guys other than me being ######6 insane, and I wish they'd apologize. I wish a guy would visit me or look for me when I'm not in the mood to make myself known.

But if a guy did that, I can guess I'd be compelled to pretend to be more damaged than I might actually be.

I just wish there was a guy thinking of me all the time. I am so unhappy.

I went to Chicago with my floor this weekend. Because I had surgery over my actual spring break, I decided to make this my remedial spring break. We were allowed to have as many people in our rooms as we wanted, but I kicked my assigned roommates from my room so my best friend could stay with me. We had the room to ourselves except for the first night.

Since we were going to party, I brought a water bottle of vodka I had gotten the night before and took a shot or two before we went sightseeing. A woman asked me for a cigarette, and I asked her to buy us vodka. She agreed, but my supervisor was like "time to go" before we could follow her to the store. When asked who she was, I said I knew her from twitter. I have an easy time lying when I'm drunk, and it made me realize I'm a really good liar. My rule is that good liars tell the truth. It sounds like an oxymoron but if you try to apply the rule, you'll understand.

So we went sightseeing and then slipped away from the group. I was lighting a cigarette when someone asked for a light. Before he could leave, I asked him to buy us vodka. He agreed when I told him I turned 21 in two months (I'm only 19).

So we went back that night and partied. I sang for three hours straight. At one point I peed and got pee all over my shorts, so I took them off and lounged in my underwear until someone said something about it. I remember doing this, but I don't remember seeing myself with no pants. Weird.

There was a pizza party, and apparently no one was sober. I asked my RA if pepperoni was a real meat, and he said it was. I said I didn't believe him because pepperoni rhymes with bologna and bologna isn't a real meat. He said bologna was a real meat and I TORE INTO HIM LIKE NO OTHER. I called his girlfriend a butterface and said he was a liar with no morals who thought he was a good person for being in a frat when really he's just conceited. Talk about a can of worms! I apologized a few minutes later and he said we were friends.

Surprisingly, I have a good preservation of my health when I'm drunk. I was able to feel myself slipping away and decided to tell my friends I'd had enough, and then I drank water for the rest of the night, which prevented a hangover.

We went to see a ballet the next evening. I was drunk, more than I thought I was. I couldn't see where I was sitting so I found my RA and asked if I could sit there. He said no (because seats were reserved and he didn't want to cause trouble) but before he could explain himself I walked away. I was enraged! They called my name so one person could switch with me but I kept walking because I was trying to teach them a lesson about how to treat me.

During the second act I started crying because I thought I was out of vodka.

I'll tell more of this story later.

Today I spontaneously decided to change what bus I got on after my class, and guess who was there? My crush. I took the seat next to him, and I think he acknowledged me before I acknowledged him. When I did acknowledge him, I decided to ask something I would regret not asking if I didn't ask it. I asked him if he got my texts.

He said no, because he has to pay his own phone bill now and no longer gets texting. He told me at the beginning of the year that he barely texted, so I believe that it would have been an expendable luxury for him.

I explained what my texts from yesterday were about, and I also explained how him not having texting explained a lot to me--I told him about how I assume people think I'm insane if they don't respond, though not in those same words. He was so cute! It would be really nice if he was the man I ended up marrying someday. He has acne an average amount of acne, and though I am usually grossed out by that stuff, it made me like him more, and in a more realistic way because I like that he's a human with problems that unlucky teens have to face. It makes me feel like if I were in a relationship with him, I might not have to hide the zits I get. He also has a little bit of a mustache. Usually it grosses me out when guys have mustaches, like the youthful and thin mustache, but I appreciate his. It makes him in some ways more mature than me--I cannot grow a mustache (I am blessed with very sparse body hair).

And because he doesn't get texts, he never saw the worst parts I showed him. That's why he didn't know I'd stolen his name tags, even when I told him over text. Because he doesn't text, only the good parts of our relationship exists and that is wonderful. He still sees me as who I was at the beginning.

And now that I know he won't get my texts, I no longer feel the pressure of having to keep in touch with him all the time or of having to be involved every second of every day. I can also fantasize about him as much as I want, because we are only getting closer. Before this, I was discouraging fantasy of him because I felt we were falling apart due to what I said in text.

If you were wondering, my texts to him hardly seemed angry or anything, but they were frequent and sometimes I'd say things that were effectively manipulative.

A week from today I have a University mandated psychological evaluation because of things I said when I was stoned. We'll see how that goes.

Ever since I read The Hunger Games, I've had a fascination with the character Glimmer. The first poem I ever wrote and read to an audience was actually about her, and the praise I got from it is what inspired me to keep writing. Poetry is really the only interest of mine that hasn't wavered since.

Anyway, I think I like Glimmer because she is very consistent with the HPD prototype. She doesn't last long in the games, but the memory of her death haunts the protagonist for the rest of the series.

I embody a lot of her characteristics as kind of my last resort, or when I'm feeling desperate. I become extra flirtatious and outgoing and usually it's successful in getting me some temporary security. Today, as I was listening to the playlist I made, that was inspired by Glimmer, I began to think of how I could go about my life in a way that was emulative of her.

And I couldn't think of one way that wasn't what I was already doing--groveling through each day on empty promises and praises from guys. But then I thought of reality TV. I love reality TV. Survivor has always been a favorite of mine, but this past summer made me really like Big Brother, too. Because of some health issues, Big Brother is by default the show I could get on more easily.

And The Hunger Games is partially inspired by reality television. Glimmer was a career tribute, meaning she spent her entire life training to compete in the games. And that's kind of what I've been doing, though preconsciously. I've been fostering a personality that is entertaining for the masses.

So when I'm 21, I'm going to go to open casting calls for Big Brother and show them what I've got. I think I will seem unique to them. I don't care about winning. All I care about is the attention I would get, and the competition aspect of the show. I would obviously prefer to go far into the game, but I ultimately would be willing, if not eager, to join an alliance that only intended to get me fourth place. The attention and notoriety would be worth it. I'll be sensational.

Until I'm 21, I'm going to prepare my pitch and the persona I want to convey.