(Heh, funny play on title of my current favorite sappy cabaret song 'Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me'...DON'T JUDGE ME, I'M ALREADY PARANOID).
2:30 AM creeps me the F out. (It's actually 2:42 AM right now...minor technicality). I don't know why I'm still awake. Really. I don't. I have absolutely no reason to be up right now. I should be sleeping. I'm tired. I'm actually starting to get a stomachache from how tired I am, but for some reason, that's not stopping me.
But really. Silence? Is mildly creepy. I guess it can be comforting, if you're in the mood for it, but it's legit creepy. You can hear outside things rustlin' around and old things that creak... and your dog snoring (no big deal, really).
To add to creeperishness (new favorite not-word), I just discovered a cobweb streching from the corner of my room to something on my desk. I'm a terrible housekeeper. I hope to God I never become a crazy cat lady becuase my house would probably be in a condition too dangerous to be cleaned by a Haz-Mat crew. I'm afraid to know what it looks like behind my bedside table.
Plus my house is cold. Well, really, my bedroom is cold. I'm pretty sure it's the coldest room in the house, and I could never figure out why.
I had coffee. Looong time ago. That's probably not why I'm still awake because that was almost 11 hours ago.
Really. Why am I still here? Why am I wasting my time? When I'm a college student, I'm probably going to be WISHING I had taken this opportunity to sleep. Oh well. Whatever. I don't have to do anything tomorrow. The only thing pressing on my agenda for tomorrow is going with my mom to see 'New Moon'. For the third time.
DON'T JUDGE ME.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
An Open Letter to my Good Ol' Olympus Camera
Dear Olympus,
I want to start off by telling you that I’m sorry. You need to understand that I never meant to hurt you. But honestly, did you ever think that what we had was real? I don’t think we were ever made for each other.
Sure, we had some good times. And true, you were much more reliable than my old camera, although you sometimes took entirely too long to take a picture. But it’s true that you had the greatest internal memory of any camera I’ve ever met. If it hadn’t been for your marvelous internal memory, I’d have wasted $40 on a memory card a long time ago. You never were able to take adequate video, but I digress.
You were good to me for two years, but it’s over between us. What we had was never real love. Maybe infatuation, but never love. And yes, I would have missed innumerable Kodak moments without you, but truly, you never dazzled me.
I hate to say it because I sound like a whore, but I was really just playing you. That’s the truth. I was biding my time until I could find a new lover. I want to be open and honest with you now, because you certainly deserve that much.
Speaking of honesty, as for the affair, Samsung and I have really only been seeing each other on the side for about a week now. He’s the only other one, though. While we were together, I never once fantasized about another camera, I never pushed another’s buttons, I never even took another picture with one. I have been completely faithful to you up until about a week ago when I saw Samsung looking at me from across the crowded Best Buy. One look at the video of his capabilities, one twinkle of that shiny front LCD screen and I was hooked.
I really am sorry, but Samsung and I were just made for each other. We were meant to be together. We’re in love. He’s good to me, and I’ve promised to never let him schlep around in my purse, for fear of damaging his beauty. We’ve already begun finishing each other’s sentences and he can put snow on whatever picture I want, no matter the season. Never again will I have to try to take my self portrait 12 different times, because his front LCD screen allows for the perfect self portrait every time. And you know how much my friends and I take pictures of ourselves. Really. You may not think it now, but this is best for both of us.
I want the best for you, because over the past two years we have become close. I hope you live a lovely life in retirement because you deserve it after the way I used you. Please know that I will always be there if you need to talk, and I really do feel badly about the way I’ve treated you. You didn’t deserve that, and it’s clear now that I never deserved you.
I honestly hope we can still be friends.
All the best,
Alexa
I want to start off by telling you that I’m sorry. You need to understand that I never meant to hurt you. But honestly, did you ever think that what we had was real? I don’t think we were ever made for each other.
Sure, we had some good times. And true, you were much more reliable than my old camera, although you sometimes took entirely too long to take a picture. But it’s true that you had the greatest internal memory of any camera I’ve ever met. If it hadn’t been for your marvelous internal memory, I’d have wasted $40 on a memory card a long time ago. You never were able to take adequate video, but I digress.
You were good to me for two years, but it’s over between us. What we had was never real love. Maybe infatuation, but never love. And yes, I would have missed innumerable Kodak moments without you, but truly, you never dazzled me.
I hate to say it because I sound like a whore, but I was really just playing you. That’s the truth. I was biding my time until I could find a new lover. I want to be open and honest with you now, because you certainly deserve that much.
Speaking of honesty, as for the affair, Samsung and I have really only been seeing each other on the side for about a week now. He’s the only other one, though. While we were together, I never once fantasized about another camera, I never pushed another’s buttons, I never even took another picture with one. I have been completely faithful to you up until about a week ago when I saw Samsung looking at me from across the crowded Best Buy. One look at the video of his capabilities, one twinkle of that shiny front LCD screen and I was hooked.
I really am sorry, but Samsung and I were just made for each other. We were meant to be together. We’re in love. He’s good to me, and I’ve promised to never let him schlep around in my purse, for fear of damaging his beauty. We’ve already begun finishing each other’s sentences and he can put snow on whatever picture I want, no matter the season. Never again will I have to try to take my self portrait 12 different times, because his front LCD screen allows for the perfect self portrait every time. And you know how much my friends and I take pictures of ourselves. Really. You may not think it now, but this is best for both of us.
I want the best for you, because over the past two years we have become close. I hope you live a lovely life in retirement because you deserve it after the way I used you. Please know that I will always be there if you need to talk, and I really do feel badly about the way I’ve treated you. You didn’t deserve that, and it’s clear now that I never deserved you.
I honestly hope we can still be friends.
All the best,
Alexa
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Happy Christmas Eve!
I have to admit, today has been somewhat amusing. And somewhat irritating as well.
As of today, my mom and I had done almost NO Christmas shopping at all. So we basically had to do pretty much everything today. Which is bad enough on a normal day, but I woke up this morning and I'm pretty sure I have a sinus infection because the right side of my face really hurts and my head is all stuffy and my right eye seriously won't stop watering.
Oh yeah. I'm pretty today.
But it's made for some really interesting looks today, because I usually look like I'm crying, and when I don't look like I'm crying, my right eye is basically swollen shut, so I look like I'm winking constantly. Which is really entertaining because for some reason, almost every man running around today was very attractive. It just figures that the day I've got wink-eye and my hair is a Cowardly Lion-esque 12x12 mass on the top of my head (hair appointment, don't judge) that all the attractive guys would be out.
ANYWAY I thought I might entertain with a few quotes from last night/today, because the people I surround myself with are very entertaining that way.
Wuh: Why is it that the universe loves you so much?
Zach: I don't know. But I think the universe loves me in the wrong way. I feel like if the universe really loved me, it would at least give me a career path or something.
Me: So basically you're saying that the universe treats you like a cheap whore?
Zach: Basically.
Wuh: Oh, I can think of worse things...
(driving past Lighthouse Pools last night - massive amounts of Christmas trees in the display window)
Bee: Oh my God! Look at all those Christmas trees! It's like a Christmas tree epiphany.
Wuh: It's a Christmas tree orgasm.
(today, picking out Legos for my cousin)
Mom: Do you think he would like this at all?
Me: Not really. Preston never struck me as a King Arthur kind of guy. He's not so much 'What, ho! Off to battle!' kind of guy as he is a sirens and Kevlar vests kind of guy.
Me: Hey, do you think the Greeks would be horrified if I found a Mary is my Homegirl T-shirt and wore it tomorrow for Christmas?
Mom: Yes. They would be. It would go right over Yia-Yia's head, but everyone else would be horrified. Plus it's blasphemy. You might be able to get away with it Saturday though.
(text to Wuh)
Just saw Ian from the Fairways at Kohl's. Took me a minute to place him mostly because he was wearing a shirt. Awkward much?
(driving past a family outside Target)
Me: So is that a girl or a boy?
Mom: It's a cheetah.
Me: That's not what I asked you.
Mom: OH. Oh... now I see what you're talking about. Hard to tell. Sometimes it's best not to know.
Mom: I don't know about the Legos thing. We're going to have to think outside the box on this.
Me: Heh. That's funny. 'Cause Legos... come in a box.
That's about all. Things were funny because we got super-delirious and then we hit rock bottom and nothing was funny anymore. Now we're just exhausted. So I'm off to wrap things and watch 'White Christmas'. Yay.
Happy Christmasish!
As of today, my mom and I had done almost NO Christmas shopping at all. So we basically had to do pretty much everything today. Which is bad enough on a normal day, but I woke up this morning and I'm pretty sure I have a sinus infection because the right side of my face really hurts and my head is all stuffy and my right eye seriously won't stop watering.
Oh yeah. I'm pretty today.
But it's made for some really interesting looks today, because I usually look like I'm crying, and when I don't look like I'm crying, my right eye is basically swollen shut, so I look like I'm winking constantly. Which is really entertaining because for some reason, almost every man running around today was very attractive. It just figures that the day I've got wink-eye and my hair is a Cowardly Lion-esque 12x12 mass on the top of my head (hair appointment, don't judge) that all the attractive guys would be out.
ANYWAY I thought I might entertain with a few quotes from last night/today, because the people I surround myself with are very entertaining that way.
Wuh: Why is it that the universe loves you so much?
Zach: I don't know. But I think the universe loves me in the wrong way. I feel like if the universe really loved me, it would at least give me a career path or something.
Me: So basically you're saying that the universe treats you like a cheap whore?
Zach: Basically.
Wuh: Oh, I can think of worse things...
(driving past Lighthouse Pools last night - massive amounts of Christmas trees in the display window)
Bee: Oh my God! Look at all those Christmas trees! It's like a Christmas tree epiphany.
Wuh: It's a Christmas tree orgasm.
(today, picking out Legos for my cousin)
Mom: Do you think he would like this at all?
Me: Not really. Preston never struck me as a King Arthur kind of guy. He's not so much 'What, ho! Off to battle!' kind of guy as he is a sirens and Kevlar vests kind of guy.
Me: Hey, do you think the Greeks would be horrified if I found a Mary is my Homegirl T-shirt and wore it tomorrow for Christmas?
Mom: Yes. They would be. It would go right over Yia-Yia's head, but everyone else would be horrified. Plus it's blasphemy. You might be able to get away with it Saturday though.
(text to Wuh)
Just saw Ian from the Fairways at Kohl's. Took me a minute to place him mostly because he was wearing a shirt. Awkward much?
(driving past a family outside Target)
Me: So is that a girl or a boy?
Mom: It's a cheetah.
Me: That's not what I asked you.
Mom: OH. Oh... now I see what you're talking about. Hard to tell. Sometimes it's best not to know.
Mom: I don't know about the Legos thing. We're going to have to think outside the box on this.
Me: Heh. That's funny. 'Cause Legos... come in a box.
That's about all. Things were funny because we got super-delirious and then we hit rock bottom and nothing was funny anymore. Now we're just exhausted. So I'm off to wrap things and watch 'White Christmas'. Yay.
Happy Christmasish!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Quickie
(Yes, I am aware of the subtle sexual innuendo of my post title...you don't need to tell me, thanks).
I have approximately 20 minutes or less to post this, so I'm going to try to type as fast as possible and think just as quickly. Quite a challenge.
SO. I was just thinking about this holiday season and how I posted a few days (weeks?) ago that this Christmas is lame. I just wanted to set the record straight - yes, this Christmas season started off lame, but it has actually shaped up to be not so bad. At first, there was no snow, no tree, no shopping, no presents, and basically no holiday cheer. To take the place of all the happy holiday stuff, there was a lot of drama, a lot of stress, quite a few tears, and even one attempt at running away (see November's 'One of THOSE Nights').
However, it has gotten better. There's officially snow on the ground, our tree is decorated, we've made dozens of cookies, and decorated them like crazy bitches (oh, wait...), I have some (not a lot, not even most, but some) shopping done (I know, okay? Don't judge), and I've been surviving on peppermint mochas from Starbucks since mid-November.
Now, I'm jamming to some Christmas tunes and getting ready for the girls to come over so we can eat orange chicken from Tasty Garden (best Chinese place EVER)(although you always hear people say this, 'It's the best Chinese place ever, I think they even serve real chicken, not cat!')(perhaps it's just me)(anyway...), open gifts and chill out. And perhaps go check out the house in neighboring Avondale that has a giant preying mantis statue in the front yard. Am not kidding. Could not make this up. It doesn't even light up, so I don't really see what the point is, and they don't have it up any other time of year but Christmas. WTF?
Anyway, my quickie (heh, I'm mature - actually another good post for another day might be how I used to be ten times as mature as I am now when I was 13) point is that, well...'it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.'
I have approximately 20 minutes or less to post this, so I'm going to try to type as fast as possible and think just as quickly. Quite a challenge.
SO. I was just thinking about this holiday season and how I posted a few days (weeks?) ago that this Christmas is lame. I just wanted to set the record straight - yes, this Christmas season started off lame, but it has actually shaped up to be not so bad. At first, there was no snow, no tree, no shopping, no presents, and basically no holiday cheer. To take the place of all the happy holiday stuff, there was a lot of drama, a lot of stress, quite a few tears, and even one attempt at running away (see November's 'One of THOSE Nights').
However, it has gotten better. There's officially snow on the ground, our tree is decorated, we've made dozens of cookies, and decorated them like crazy bitches (oh, wait...), I have some (not a lot, not even most, but some) shopping done (I know, okay? Don't judge), and I've been surviving on peppermint mochas from Starbucks since mid-November.
Now, I'm jamming to some Christmas tunes and getting ready for the girls to come over so we can eat orange chicken from Tasty Garden (best Chinese place EVER)(although you always hear people say this, 'It's the best Chinese place ever, I think they even serve real chicken, not cat!')(perhaps it's just me)(anyway...), open gifts and chill out. And perhaps go check out the house in neighboring Avondale that has a giant preying mantis statue in the front yard. Am not kidding. Could not make this up. It doesn't even light up, so I don't really see what the point is, and they don't have it up any other time of year but Christmas. WTF?
Anyway, my quickie (heh, I'm mature - actually another good post for another day might be how I used to be ten times as mature as I am now when I was 13) point is that, well...'it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.'
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
We've Almost Made It
We are officially in the last few days of this year. Scratch that. We are officially in the last few days of this decade. Ooooh.
It's crazy, really. It seems like just yesterday that everybody was worried that we were all going to die because of the new millenium. It doesn't feel like 10 years ago that everybody was freaking out about Y2K, but perhaps it's because everyone is now freaking out about us all dying in 2012.
Anyway, moving on. This decade has been most of my life. Probably much of what I remember happened in this decade. A lot of things can happen in ten years. I've changed a lot in ten years. But so much has stayed the same.
When I was little, I was involved in theater. The truth is, I'm not anymore, and I constantly wish I was. But good life lesson, I suppose.
When I was little, I loved to write. I got the idea in my head in second grade that I was going to write "The Adventures of Icey and Snowy," which was about two kittens in Washington DC. Today, I still love it. Being on newspaper staff and in AP English force me to write, and I love it. It's something that has stayed with me, and will probably always stay with me.
I met my best friends in first grade. Yes, we've had a lot of fights, and maybe we don't always get along, and we've made a lot of new friends, and even lost some, but I know that they will honestly be there for me forever.
We've lost a lot of people in the last 10 years, but we've gained a lot of new people too. We've combatted a lot of drama and hard times, and we've come out on the other side stronger. We've traveled a lot, to new places and old favorite places. We've laughed, we've cried, we've laughed till we cried. We've fought, we've loved, we've run away. We've kept secrets, we've told truths, we've told lies. We've won, we've lost, we've competed. We've done so much over the years, and we have so much left to go.
So even thought it sounds cliche, yes, this is an end. But January 1 starts a new beginning. It starts a new year, which is time enough for great (or not so great) things to happen, but it also starts a new decade. Ten years is a long time. Think about how old you'll be in ten years. Think about how much you'll have accomplished in ten years. Think about where you want to be in ten years, and start taking steps to make it happen.
It's crazy, really. It seems like just yesterday that everybody was worried that we were all going to die because of the new millenium. It doesn't feel like 10 years ago that everybody was freaking out about Y2K, but perhaps it's because everyone is now freaking out about us all dying in 2012.
Anyway, moving on. This decade has been most of my life. Probably much of what I remember happened in this decade. A lot of things can happen in ten years. I've changed a lot in ten years. But so much has stayed the same.
When I was little, I was involved in theater. The truth is, I'm not anymore, and I constantly wish I was. But good life lesson, I suppose.
When I was little, I loved to write. I got the idea in my head in second grade that I was going to write "The Adventures of Icey and Snowy," which was about two kittens in Washington DC. Today, I still love it. Being on newspaper staff and in AP English force me to write, and I love it. It's something that has stayed with me, and will probably always stay with me.
I met my best friends in first grade. Yes, we've had a lot of fights, and maybe we don't always get along, and we've made a lot of new friends, and even lost some, but I know that they will honestly be there for me forever.
We've lost a lot of people in the last 10 years, but we've gained a lot of new people too. We've combatted a lot of drama and hard times, and we've come out on the other side stronger. We've traveled a lot, to new places and old favorite places. We've laughed, we've cried, we've laughed till we cried. We've fought, we've loved, we've run away. We've kept secrets, we've told truths, we've told lies. We've won, we've lost, we've competed. We've done so much over the years, and we have so much left to go.
So even thought it sounds cliche, yes, this is an end. But January 1 starts a new beginning. It starts a new year, which is time enough for great (or not so great) things to happen, but it also starts a new decade. Ten years is a long time. Think about how old you'll be in ten years. Think about how much you'll have accomplished in ten years. Think about where you want to be in ten years, and start taking steps to make it happen.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Am I Crazy? I Might End Up Crazy.
...Hold on a second.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Okay. Sorry. I needed that. I should be exhausted right now, and I think somewhere under the surface, I am. But I'm ridiculously high strung right now, mostly because I just had dinner not that long ago, plus a bunch of sugar, and now I'm just running on basically pure adrenaline because I was multitasking in a major way and rushing through everything. So I'm just like freaking out.
Exams start tomorrow. AHHH.
I randomly broke out into hives last night...WTF?
I am super pretty right now because I'm battling three cystic zits, which is waht I end up with when I'm under stress. Cool.
Today the school beefed up security because there was a school shooting threat. Yeah, uniformed police officers and administration in running shoes made for interesting school day.
It's nine days away from Christmas...like, what?
I'm shaking right now for no good reason. Awesome.
Life is just generally insane...dealing with my own drama (which sucks, by the way. I usually don't battle drama, but right now I kind of am and I DON'T LIKE IT) and other peoples' drama (which I do all the time, so no big deal).
But I'll get over it.
This is a really unimportant blog post but I thought maybe manic typing might help get out some of the craziness and the jumpiness and make me stop screaming every 7 minutes or so. I just keep like screaming or exasperatedly shouting something every time something is about to explode or I knock something over or I think of something important.
But really, I need to sleep or something so that I can effectively not fail both my exams tomorrow.
So...until a time when I'm slightly more sane.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Okay. Sorry. I needed that. I should be exhausted right now, and I think somewhere under the surface, I am. But I'm ridiculously high strung right now, mostly because I just had dinner not that long ago, plus a bunch of sugar, and now I'm just running on basically pure adrenaline because I was multitasking in a major way and rushing through everything. So I'm just like freaking out.
Exams start tomorrow. AHHH.
I randomly broke out into hives last night...WTF?
I am super pretty right now because I'm battling three cystic zits, which is waht I end up with when I'm under stress. Cool.
Today the school beefed up security because there was a school shooting threat. Yeah, uniformed police officers and administration in running shoes made for interesting school day.
It's nine days away from Christmas...like, what?
I'm shaking right now for no good reason. Awesome.
Life is just generally insane...dealing with my own drama (which sucks, by the way. I usually don't battle drama, but right now I kind of am and I DON'T LIKE IT) and other peoples' drama (which I do all the time, so no big deal).
But I'll get over it.
This is a really unimportant blog post but I thought maybe manic typing might help get out some of the craziness and the jumpiness and make me stop screaming every 7 minutes or so. I just keep like screaming or exasperatedly shouting something every time something is about to explode or I knock something over or I think of something important.
But really, I need to sleep or something so that I can effectively not fail both my exams tomorrow.
So...until a time when I'm slightly more sane.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Is Love Alive?
"This is my winter song, December never felt so wrong."
(From my new favorite song, "Winter Song" by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. Check it out).
So we're 10 days away from Christmas.
Whaaaat?
I'm totally confused by this. Exams start the day after tomorrow, and I'm not freaking out yet. I usually freak majorly, but I'm oddly numb.
Anyway, that's not really my point at all.
My point is that even though I've been jamming to my Christmas station on my Pandora since early November, it still does not feel like the Christmas season at all.
We just got our tree yesterday. We didn't even get it at a tree farm like we usually do. It's usually this whole big outing, complete with snowball fights, hot chocolate, sledding, swearing, snow, and trees. My parents got the tree from Lowes. It's not decorated yet. It's ridiculous. I'm not happy about it.
I've hardly done any shopping, there have been zero shopping marathon days with my mom, we haven't made cookies together.
For God's sake, my mom and I haven't even watched 'Rudolph' and 'Charlie Brown' together. We do that EVERY year.
Issue 4 of "The Viking Views" comes out tomorrow, and in it is my column about all my awesome holiday traditions and why they make Christmas Christmas for me. I realized that I haven't done one of them yet.
And so far, this Christmas is lame.
(From my new favorite song, "Winter Song" by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. Check it out).
So we're 10 days away from Christmas.
Whaaaat?
I'm totally confused by this. Exams start the day after tomorrow, and I'm not freaking out yet. I usually freak majorly, but I'm oddly numb.
Anyway, that's not really my point at all.
My point is that even though I've been jamming to my Christmas station on my Pandora since early November, it still does not feel like the Christmas season at all.
We just got our tree yesterday. We didn't even get it at a tree farm like we usually do. It's usually this whole big outing, complete with snowball fights, hot chocolate, sledding, swearing, snow, and trees. My parents got the tree from Lowes. It's not decorated yet. It's ridiculous. I'm not happy about it.
I've hardly done any shopping, there have been zero shopping marathon days with my mom, we haven't made cookies together.
For God's sake, my mom and I haven't even watched 'Rudolph' and 'Charlie Brown' together. We do that EVERY year.
Issue 4 of "The Viking Views" comes out tomorrow, and in it is my column about all my awesome holiday traditions and why they make Christmas Christmas for me. I realized that I haven't done one of them yet.
And so far, this Christmas is lame.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Send in the Clowns
Tonight I attended the North Canton tree lighting ceremony with my friends.
Tonight I drove around North Canton with the windows of the car rolled down belting Josh Groban's version of 'O Holy Night' with my best friend's boyfriend.
Tonight I sang along with the Christmas carols of the Hoover Hi-Los.
Tonight I sprinted over a hill in an attempt to see Santa being driven down Main Street in a fire truck.
Tonight I ran (yeah, that's legit) from Bitzer Park to Caffe Gelato to try to get coffee to warm up.
Tonight I arrived at Caffe Gelato with my friends just as they were locking the doors.
Tonight I was hit on by an eighth-grade boy.
Tonight I thought my lungs were collapsing after running to Caffe Gelato.
Tonight I tried to drive my friends to Starbucks to get coffee after our failed attempt at Caffe Gelato.
Tonight I had to turn around when we were almost at Starbucks to because Chelsea was locked out of her house and was on her roof trying to break into her parents' bedroom window.
Tonight I had to go rescue my friend from the freezing cold after she jumped off the roof of her sunroom.
Tonight I blasted 'Christmas Bells' from 'Rent' with my frozen ninja friend on the ride the way back to Wuh's house.
Tonight I had to tackle my friends in order to get my car keys back from them as they tossed them back and forth between each other.
Tonight I had a lot of fun for the first time in a while, but for the second night in a row.
Tonight I am completely entertained by my life.
Tonight I drove around North Canton with the windows of the car rolled down belting Josh Groban's version of 'O Holy Night' with my best friend's boyfriend.
Tonight I sang along with the Christmas carols of the Hoover Hi-Los.
Tonight I sprinted over a hill in an attempt to see Santa being driven down Main Street in a fire truck.
Tonight I ran (yeah, that's legit) from Bitzer Park to Caffe Gelato to try to get coffee to warm up.
Tonight I arrived at Caffe Gelato with my friends just as they were locking the doors.
Tonight I was hit on by an eighth-grade boy.
Tonight I thought my lungs were collapsing after running to Caffe Gelato.
Tonight I tried to drive my friends to Starbucks to get coffee after our failed attempt at Caffe Gelato.
Tonight I had to turn around when we were almost at Starbucks to because Chelsea was locked out of her house and was on her roof trying to break into her parents' bedroom window.
Tonight I had to go rescue my friend from the freezing cold after she jumped off the roof of her sunroom.
Tonight I blasted 'Christmas Bells' from 'Rent' with my frozen ninja friend on the ride the way back to Wuh's house.
Tonight I had to tackle my friends in order to get my car keys back from them as they tossed them back and forth between each other.
Tonight I had a lot of fun for the first time in a while, but for the second night in a row.
Tonight I am completely entertained by my life.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Home is Where the Heart Is
There is this house in Hartville that has seen better days.
It's a rather large house but it's not flashy. It can easily go unnoticed. If you look past its fading, chipping paint, overgrown grass and shrubs, and cracked windows, you can tell that it once was beautiful, and could be beautiful again.
You can tell that someone once loved it and that it unwittingly but unconditionally loved back. Its walls must have lovingly bared pictures and holiday decorations and been witness to family gatherings and mother to family heirlooms. It was once, maybe not so long ago, filled with laughter and light and love.
Now it appears hauntingly empty. You get the feeling that whoever left it didn't do so willingly. It was some tragedy that forced them out, and their only option was to leave the empty shell behind. Its only hope for improvement is the Howard-Hanna sign perched in the front lawn. Maybe someday soon it will rally and become a home again, instead of just a house.
It's a rather large house but it's not flashy. It can easily go unnoticed. If you look past its fading, chipping paint, overgrown grass and shrubs, and cracked windows, you can tell that it once was beautiful, and could be beautiful again.
You can tell that someone once loved it and that it unwittingly but unconditionally loved back. Its walls must have lovingly bared pictures and holiday decorations and been witness to family gatherings and mother to family heirlooms. It was once, maybe not so long ago, filled with laughter and light and love.
Now it appears hauntingly empty. You get the feeling that whoever left it didn't do so willingly. It was some tragedy that forced them out, and their only option was to leave the empty shell behind. Its only hope for improvement is the Howard-Hanna sign perched in the front lawn. Maybe someday soon it will rally and become a home again, instead of just a house.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Let's Be Realistic...
Today I realized that most of my goals in life are completely unrealistic or have been based off of completely unrealistic expectations.
Part of me is troubled by this. Most of me is not.
I guess these goals would more accurately be 'dreams.' So here's a brief list:
- Own a pony.
- Tour every Starbucks in the world until I find a Latte Boy...named Taylor.
- Be a part of a company that comes up with the names for nail polish colors. Seriously. They are so crafty.
- Go into print journalism (I know, doesn't that SOUND realistic? But who knows how much longer print journalismm will be alive).
- Be a part of at least one more musical before I die.
- Eat all the Hershey's Kisses I wanted and not gain a pound. Ever.
- Achieve the perfect self-manicure that would not start chipping less than 12 hours after its completion.
- Pass Spanish IV.
- Get an 8 on an AP English Essay.
- Do an open mic night at Caffe Gelato or some random adorable cafe such as that.
- Befriend someone famous.
- Read "The Bell Jar."
- Partake in a magical day of shopping where everything I like miraculously fits perfectly AND is on sale.
- Find a unicorn.
- Make Snuggies socially acceptable.
- Fall in love. And not get hurt.
- Understand why Crocs have not yet been banned from the universe.
- Write and publish a memoir.
- Persuade some poor network to make a sit-com based off my life.
- Own and restore classic cars. I don't know why but I have this thing for them.
- Be as admirable and adorable as some of my favorite book/movie characters.
- Never sacrifice who I am.
That's all for now. I should start writing this stuff down when I come up with it. It would be better that way.
Oh well. Good night!
Part of me is troubled by this. Most of me is not.
I guess these goals would more accurately be 'dreams.' So here's a brief list:
- Own a pony.
- Tour every Starbucks in the world until I find a Latte Boy...named Taylor.
- Be a part of a company that comes up with the names for nail polish colors. Seriously. They are so crafty.
- Go into print journalism (I know, doesn't that SOUND realistic? But who knows how much longer print journalismm will be alive).
- Be a part of at least one more musical before I die.
- Eat all the Hershey's Kisses I wanted and not gain a pound. Ever.
- Achieve the perfect self-manicure that would not start chipping less than 12 hours after its completion.
- Pass Spanish IV.
- Get an 8 on an AP English Essay.
- Do an open mic night at Caffe Gelato or some random adorable cafe such as that.
- Befriend someone famous.
- Read "The Bell Jar."
- Partake in a magical day of shopping where everything I like miraculously fits perfectly AND is on sale.
- Find a unicorn.
- Make Snuggies socially acceptable.
- Fall in love. And not get hurt.
- Understand why Crocs have not yet been banned from the universe.
- Write and publish a memoir.
- Persuade some poor network to make a sit-com based off my life.
- Own and restore classic cars. I don't know why but I have this thing for them.
- Be as admirable and adorable as some of my favorite book/movie characters.
- Never sacrifice who I am.
That's all for now. I should start writing this stuff down when I come up with it. It would be better that way.
Oh well. Good night!
Friday, November 27, 2009
"Aren't You Tired of Being the Strong One?"
Tonight, I saw "Wicked" for the third time.
My love for musicals is big. But "Wicked" and I have a special relationship. It's how I fell in love with musicals. I guess it's like shopping for wedding dresses - no matter how many you try on, how many fit, how many you like or love, even, it's usually the first one that sticks.
It doesn't get old. I still physically shake every time I see "Defying Gravity" performed live. I cry every time during "For Good." Every time I sit and watch it, I think of how it all started - the soundtrack that I got for my 13th birthday. The next year was the trip to Chicago to see it, which I consider to be one of the best days of my life. My 15th birthday when my parents got me tickets to see it in Cleveland. Last birthday was pretty "Wicked"less, but we did see "Legally Blonde," which was fun too. And this year, seeing it with the grandparents birthday eve.
It's been a while since I listened to the music, and I totally forgot how much I love it. I love the characters, I love the complexity of the story line, I love the costumes. I love the idea that there's always two sides to every story, just like there's two sides to every coin.I love that there's a little bit of Elphaba in all of us, maybe some more than others. And I love that tonight when I walked in there, I felt the strongest connecton to her character that I have ever felt. I don't know why. But I loved the feeling anyway.
I'm old now. It has officially been my birthday for 43 minutes. I'm exhausted. I've been up for nearly 20 hours with Black Friday shopping and all. I think it's time for me to sleep now that my eyes are starting to cross and I'm seeing double of everything.
Nite. :)
My love for musicals is big. But "Wicked" and I have a special relationship. It's how I fell in love with musicals. I guess it's like shopping for wedding dresses - no matter how many you try on, how many fit, how many you like or love, even, it's usually the first one that sticks.
It doesn't get old. I still physically shake every time I see "Defying Gravity" performed live. I cry every time during "For Good." Every time I sit and watch it, I think of how it all started - the soundtrack that I got for my 13th birthday. The next year was the trip to Chicago to see it, which I consider to be one of the best days of my life. My 15th birthday when my parents got me tickets to see it in Cleveland. Last birthday was pretty "Wicked"less, but we did see "Legally Blonde," which was fun too. And this year, seeing it with the grandparents birthday eve.
It's been a while since I listened to the music, and I totally forgot how much I love it. I love the characters, I love the complexity of the story line, I love the costumes. I love the idea that there's always two sides to every story, just like there's two sides to every coin.I love that there's a little bit of Elphaba in all of us, maybe some more than others. And I love that tonight when I walked in there, I felt the strongest connecton to her character that I have ever felt. I don't know why. But I loved the feeling anyway.
I'm old now. It has officially been my birthday for 43 minutes. I'm exhausted. I've been up for nearly 20 hours with Black Friday shopping and all. I think it's time for me to sleep now that my eyes are starting to cross and I'm seeing double of everything.
Nite. :)
Monday, November 23, 2009
One of THOSE Nights
Um...so I kind of just recovered from a major meltdown. Which, y'know, okay. Whatever. It's been over a year since I had one. But that doesn't make it any better.
I hate having meltdowns. I scare myself. At like 10 after 7 tonight I sat down on my bed and literally started hyperventilating. Then I just started to sob into my Snuggie. It was really ugly. I cried off every bit of my makeup and I freaked both of my parents and my dog out. It was awful.
I'm terrified. Completely terrified of everything. I'm terrified that it's junior year, and I'm terrified of my National Honor Society application. I'm terrified of Spanish IV. I'm terrified because I feel like I'm not doing as well as I should be in my classes. I'm terrified of going to college in the next few years. I'm terrified of money issues, of leaving everything behind, of being on my own. I'm terrified because I won't know how to live my life without these people. I'm terrified that I really was convinced that the solution was to start distancing myself from everyone, everything now because I thought it would be easier once the time actually comes for us all to go in separate directions. I'm terrified that I sometimes feel like no one wants me. I'm terrified that I sometimes feel like nobody needs me. I'm terrified because sometimes I'm not even certain that my friends like me. I'm terrified because I don't break down like this - I'm the glue, I fix everyone else's problems. I'm the one they go to when they need help. I'm terrifed that I have no one to talk to...that no one seems to care. I'm terrified of turning 17. I'm terrified because I'm starting to cry again.
I temporarily ran away. I've threatened to do that twice this year, but tonight I actually left and drove around for almost an hour. It was only temporary. Really. I got completely lost three times, but somehow always came out and discovered I'd made basically a complete circle all three times.
I am sufficiently freaked out right now, but I'm glad I wrote it all out. But I should probably sleep now.
I hate having meltdowns. I scare myself. At like 10 after 7 tonight I sat down on my bed and literally started hyperventilating. Then I just started to sob into my Snuggie. It was really ugly. I cried off every bit of my makeup and I freaked both of my parents and my dog out. It was awful.
I'm terrified. Completely terrified of everything. I'm terrified that it's junior year, and I'm terrified of my National Honor Society application. I'm terrified of Spanish IV. I'm terrified because I feel like I'm not doing as well as I should be in my classes. I'm terrified of going to college in the next few years. I'm terrified of money issues, of leaving everything behind, of being on my own. I'm terrified because I won't know how to live my life without these people. I'm terrified that I really was convinced that the solution was to start distancing myself from everyone, everything now because I thought it would be easier once the time actually comes for us all to go in separate directions. I'm terrified that I sometimes feel like no one wants me. I'm terrified that I sometimes feel like nobody needs me. I'm terrified because sometimes I'm not even certain that my friends like me. I'm terrified because I don't break down like this - I'm the glue, I fix everyone else's problems. I'm the one they go to when they need help. I'm terrifed that I have no one to talk to...that no one seems to care. I'm terrified of turning 17. I'm terrified because I'm starting to cry again.
I temporarily ran away. I've threatened to do that twice this year, but tonight I actually left and drove around for almost an hour. It was only temporary. Really. I got completely lost three times, but somehow always came out and discovered I'd made basically a complete circle all three times.
I am sufficiently freaked out right now, but I'm glad I wrote it all out. But I should probably sleep now.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friends and Family
I apologize deeply for my immature tantrum yesterday. With that being said...
Do you want to know what's funnier than watching an episode of "Friends" in English class? Watching your English teacher watch one of her favorite episodes of "Friends" in English class.
Today we kicked off our 'family' unit in English with a free-write about our families and a special viewing of an episode of "Friends" (obviously), which was really amusing. I was mildly entertained with my free write, and I think it might be kind of fun to expand on it, so that's what I'm going to do right now.
My family is...
weird. But I challenge you to find me one that would be considered 'normal.'
There's my mom, who is currently way more excited about the release of "New Moon" than I am. That confuses me. I'm the hormonal teenager in the house - I should be the obsessed one. Last night, she got 20-some points in a game of Scrabble with the word 'vagina.' She patiently taught me how to drive, makes me laugh constantly, and just this morning informed me that she thinks she needs therapy so that she can be more tolerant of people who are incompetent. I guess I'm quite like her in that repsect. She's my BFF, the Lorelai to my Rory. She doesn't judge me for my nerdy music taste or my Christmas Pandora station that I listen to more frequently than I should two weeks before Thanksgiving although I constantly judge her for her bizarre appreciation for both classic rock and raunchy rap music. She has recently convinced herself that she is going to re-learn how to ice skate and that I'm going to be very jealous of her when she can do perfect figure eights to the 'Figure Eight' song from Schoolhouse Rock. But that's just typical Mom.
Then there's my dad, who is a freak. He's super-smart but he often has really funny ways of showing it. I like him anyway. He respects me and my rare 'teen' moments, although the constant tapping on my bedroom door every five minutes while I'm doing homework to ask me about my day or what I think we should do for dinner loses its charm very, very quickly. He just went back to work at a legit job, so my homework gets done a little faster now. When I was little, I had myself convinced that he would go on 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' one day and win us a bunch of money because he knew all the answers anyway. He has yet to lose faith in the Cleveland Browns and will forever worship the ground on which Bernie Kosar walks. His love for the boys from the Rat Pack greatly influenced my nerdy taste in music, though in my defense, it's pretty hard not to respect Frank Sinatra when you're dancing around with your father every night to 'Fly Me to the Moon' at four years old.
And then there's my dog, a golden retriever mix of some sort who has effectively chewed off a good 75-80% of her fur do to allergies and a staph infection. She used to be covered in beautiful white and gold fur, but now most of the fur is gone and she's still adorable. She sleeps probably 21 out of the 24 hours in the day, but we have accepted this as a fact of life. We rescued her from the pound when she was a puppy and had to fight many battles including her intense separation anxiety and all of her cage issues, which included slicing her paw open on it (twice) and occasionally getting out of it and tearing up furniture/doors. But we eventually came out victorious and are quite positive that she didn't turn out half bad for having us as owners.
It's an unfortunate thing to note that there is basically no one still kickin' on my mom's side of the family, which would constitute as the 'fun' side. My aunt rocks - she's hilarious and a lot like my mom. She's married to a guy who I had to take for a beer run the other night and who just became a fan of Sarah Palin on Facebook. Their kids can be obnoxious, but I love them anyway. Preston, the 9-year-old love of a child (usually - he recently locked one of my friends in an outhouse while we were at a pumpkin patch) and Bailey, a 7-year-old recovering kleptomaniac. Also on my mom's side is my grandfather, a very Conservative, very loving gentle giant with a wicked-awful sense of humor, and his wife, my 'step-grandma' who is as obsessed with shopping as I am.
Then there's my dad's side of the family. The irritatingly loud and dramatic, most times intolerable Greeks who don't really appreciate me that much. I do like my grandparents; my Yia-Yia is a QVC addict and my Papou, an ancient little Greek man who is probably president AND vice president of my fan club. My aunts are both nuts, my Godmother is an adorable little woman with the biggest heart in the world. She and her husband have adopted two little girls who happen to be sisters. They're both absolutely sweethearts no matter how 'bad' they are compared to the standards of my crazy aunts. Then there are innumerable cousins and aunts and uncles and who I could never accurately discribe in the space allowed here, no matter how expansive.
That's all that can really be said for my biological family, and if I went on a tangent about my unbiological family, my friends, I would be here forever.
Goodnight, all.
Do you want to know what's funnier than watching an episode of "Friends" in English class? Watching your English teacher watch one of her favorite episodes of "Friends" in English class.
Today we kicked off our 'family' unit in English with a free-write about our families and a special viewing of an episode of "Friends" (obviously), which was really amusing. I was mildly entertained with my free write, and I think it might be kind of fun to expand on it, so that's what I'm going to do right now.
My family is...
weird. But I challenge you to find me one that would be considered 'normal.'
There's my mom, who is currently way more excited about the release of "New Moon" than I am. That confuses me. I'm the hormonal teenager in the house - I should be the obsessed one. Last night, she got 20-some points in a game of Scrabble with the word 'vagina.' She patiently taught me how to drive, makes me laugh constantly, and just this morning informed me that she thinks she needs therapy so that she can be more tolerant of people who are incompetent. I guess I'm quite like her in that repsect. She's my BFF, the Lorelai to my Rory. She doesn't judge me for my nerdy music taste or my Christmas Pandora station that I listen to more frequently than I should two weeks before Thanksgiving although I constantly judge her for her bizarre appreciation for both classic rock and raunchy rap music. She has recently convinced herself that she is going to re-learn how to ice skate and that I'm going to be very jealous of her when she can do perfect figure eights to the 'Figure Eight' song from Schoolhouse Rock. But that's just typical Mom.
Then there's my dad, who is a freak. He's super-smart but he often has really funny ways of showing it. I like him anyway. He respects me and my rare 'teen' moments, although the constant tapping on my bedroom door every five minutes while I'm doing homework to ask me about my day or what I think we should do for dinner loses its charm very, very quickly. He just went back to work at a legit job, so my homework gets done a little faster now. When I was little, I had myself convinced that he would go on 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' one day and win us a bunch of money because he knew all the answers anyway. He has yet to lose faith in the Cleveland Browns and will forever worship the ground on which Bernie Kosar walks. His love for the boys from the Rat Pack greatly influenced my nerdy taste in music, though in my defense, it's pretty hard not to respect Frank Sinatra when you're dancing around with your father every night to 'Fly Me to the Moon' at four years old.
And then there's my dog, a golden retriever mix of some sort who has effectively chewed off a good 75-80% of her fur do to allergies and a staph infection. She used to be covered in beautiful white and gold fur, but now most of the fur is gone and she's still adorable. She sleeps probably 21 out of the 24 hours in the day, but we have accepted this as a fact of life. We rescued her from the pound when she was a puppy and had to fight many battles including her intense separation anxiety and all of her cage issues, which included slicing her paw open on it (twice) and occasionally getting out of it and tearing up furniture/doors. But we eventually came out victorious and are quite positive that she didn't turn out half bad for having us as owners.
It's an unfortunate thing to note that there is basically no one still kickin' on my mom's side of the family, which would constitute as the 'fun' side. My aunt rocks - she's hilarious and a lot like my mom. She's married to a guy who I had to take for a beer run the other night and who just became a fan of Sarah Palin on Facebook. Their kids can be obnoxious, but I love them anyway. Preston, the 9-year-old love of a child (usually - he recently locked one of my friends in an outhouse while we were at a pumpkin patch) and Bailey, a 7-year-old recovering kleptomaniac. Also on my mom's side is my grandfather, a very Conservative, very loving gentle giant with a wicked-awful sense of humor, and his wife, my 'step-grandma' who is as obsessed with shopping as I am.
Then there's my dad's side of the family. The irritatingly loud and dramatic, most times intolerable Greeks who don't really appreciate me that much. I do like my grandparents; my Yia-Yia is a QVC addict and my Papou, an ancient little Greek man who is probably president AND vice president of my fan club. My aunts are both nuts, my Godmother is an adorable little woman with the biggest heart in the world. She and her husband have adopted two little girls who happen to be sisters. They're both absolutely sweethearts no matter how 'bad' they are compared to the standards of my crazy aunts. Then there are innumerable cousins and aunts and uncles and who I could never accurately discribe in the space allowed here, no matter how expansive.
That's all that can really be said for my biological family, and if I went on a tangent about my unbiological family, my friends, I would be here forever.
Goodnight, all.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
A Good Mistake
Today I decided that I believe that every day has its own separate 'rock bottom.' I have to say that judging by the fact that I'm sitting here in my Snuggie, writing in my blog, listening to Lily Allen's 'F**k You', and playing with a lighter I just found, I have officially hit today's rock bottom.
I guess I'll blame it on hormones. Yeah, there's a little more, such as my inferiority complex that won't go away, especially right now after having helped all my musically inclined friends prepare for their musical auditions. I decided not to audition. I KNOW it was the right choice, and I'm not regretting anything because they hate me anyway, but it hasn't stopped the annoying stinging feeling of not being good enough.
Whatever. No big deal. It's a hormonal thing I swear. How else can you explain the random urge to burst into tears for about 35 of the 43 minutes of Spanish class today? It's just one of those days where everything sucks mildly. And Judy Garland isn't really helping right now. It's just making me feel worse. Mehh.
I wish I could stop being such a whiny bitch right now because I'm really annoying myself. And I'm starving, but it's too close to voice for me to eat anything.
On the bright side, our third issue of "The Viking Views" came in today. Which means I got to smell them. I can't explain why I love the smell of them, but I do. I was half tempted to go talk to Mrs. O after school and ask her if I could smell them for a confidence boost, but then we left so I didn't do that. They just smell so good.
This blog post has no point. It's just me whining and I hate when people do nothing but bitch about their lives in their blogs. So I guess I'm done here.
I guess I'll blame it on hormones. Yeah, there's a little more, such as my inferiority complex that won't go away, especially right now after having helped all my musically inclined friends prepare for their musical auditions. I decided not to audition. I KNOW it was the right choice, and I'm not regretting anything because they hate me anyway, but it hasn't stopped the annoying stinging feeling of not being good enough.
Whatever. No big deal. It's a hormonal thing I swear. How else can you explain the random urge to burst into tears for about 35 of the 43 minutes of Spanish class today? It's just one of those days where everything sucks mildly. And Judy Garland isn't really helping right now. It's just making me feel worse. Mehh.
I wish I could stop being such a whiny bitch right now because I'm really annoying myself. And I'm starving, but it's too close to voice for me to eat anything.
On the bright side, our third issue of "The Viking Views" came in today. Which means I got to smell them. I can't explain why I love the smell of them, but I do. I was half tempted to go talk to Mrs. O after school and ask her if I could smell them for a confidence boost, but then we left so I didn't do that. They just smell so good.
This blog post has no point. It's just me whining and I hate when people do nothing but bitch about their lives in their blogs. So I guess I'm done here.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
I Should Have Just Stayed in Bed
I love Halloween. I really do. But this year, I feel like it might have been so much better if I had just gone into hibernation.
Honestly. This has been the weekend from purgatory. With the exception of last night. Which was awesome. Well, actually the beginning of the night sucked.
I was supposed to meet Taylor for dinner at Panera and then we were going to go back to her house and watch Halloween-themed movies and eat Jell-O powder and cookies and a bunch of crap, basically. Which was going to be super fun. Except I got a call from her at 5:00 saying that someone had offered her a ticket to Band Prom, so she was going. But I must have misunderstood her on the phone. I thought she said she was still going to meet me at Panera at 5:30
So there I sat. At Panera. In my flapper Halloween costume (shut up, okay?). For half an hour. Waiting for Taylor to show up. She never showed. THEN I found out that one of the guys from school works at Panera, and despite my black bob wig, he recognized me. And asked me if I went trick-or-treating (I didn't) and if I was meeting someone there (well, I THOUGHT I was). It was awkward.
So I called Chelsea and told her I was coming to pick her up. I stopped along the way to pick up Wuh's flapper-esque dance costume. I got out of the car at Chelsea's with the dress.
"I'm having a bad night, just put on the damn dress."
So she did. And I love her for it. So we then proceeded to run around the mall and Starbucks wearing our flapper costumes. It was so much fun. Two people thought my wig was my real hair. It was a blast.
And then today I had to finish writing my choir paper - my make-up assignment for missing the concert. And after that I got into a huge fight with my friends over going to see "Astroboy."
Sucks.
I don't really want to talk about it anymore.
Honestly. This has been the weekend from purgatory. With the exception of last night. Which was awesome. Well, actually the beginning of the night sucked.
I was supposed to meet Taylor for dinner at Panera and then we were going to go back to her house and watch Halloween-themed movies and eat Jell-O powder and cookies and a bunch of crap, basically. Which was going to be super fun. Except I got a call from her at 5:00 saying that someone had offered her a ticket to Band Prom, so she was going. But I must have misunderstood her on the phone. I thought she said she was still going to meet me at Panera at 5:30
So there I sat. At Panera. In my flapper Halloween costume (shut up, okay?). For half an hour. Waiting for Taylor to show up. She never showed. THEN I found out that one of the guys from school works at Panera, and despite my black bob wig, he recognized me. And asked me if I went trick-or-treating (I didn't) and if I was meeting someone there (well, I THOUGHT I was). It was awkward.
So I called Chelsea and told her I was coming to pick her up. I stopped along the way to pick up Wuh's flapper-esque dance costume. I got out of the car at Chelsea's with the dress.
"I'm having a bad night, just put on the damn dress."
So she did. And I love her for it. So we then proceeded to run around the mall and Starbucks wearing our flapper costumes. It was so much fun. Two people thought my wig was my real hair. It was a blast.
And then today I had to finish writing my choir paper - my make-up assignment for missing the concert. And after that I got into a huge fight with my friends over going to see "Astroboy."
Sucks.
I don't really want to talk about it anymore.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Puff the Magic Dragon
Dear World,
I wish you could see how awesome I look right now.
I'm wearing a hoodie, my favorite pajama pants (which are a mile too long and look like someone on a REALLY bad acid trip designed them), no makeup at all, my Snuggie and to top it all off, a nice knit scarf (as instructed by my vocal teacher).
Yes. I have fallen victim to one of the many sicknesses floating around. Today was my third day off school with what was today diagnosed as bronchitis. Tomorrow will be my fourth because my doctor wrote me an excuse which does not allow for me to return to school until Friday. Which means I'm missing my choir concert tomorrow night. I deeply fear what's going to happen next. Which brings me to today's rant:
Doctors.
I understand that they're necessary. I respect them. I respect them a lot, actually. I'm just not such a big fan right now (although that may have something to do with the concert bitterness and me possibly failing choir, which, hi, how sad is THAT?).
Anyway, it seems that all doctors do is insult you. They tell you you're fat (which hurts even if you are). They tell you you're too thin (which hurts even if you are). Sometimes they can't figure out what's wrong with you. They sometimes perscribe drugs that make you want to kill yourself, or give you strange sexual urges, or make you lose your appetite.
Those are just general things. But honestly, I was thinking about this earlier:
The first strike the doctors had against them for me was when I had to get shots. In my hip. I couldn't walk/stand/sit without a pillow cushioning me for days. It was terrible.
When I was in fifth grade, I blew my knee out. I had to get it drained twice. It was just before the second draining that the doctor promised me if I let him drain it again, I would be able to play softball again that season. He lied.
In seventh grade, I asked them to write me a doctor's note so I could join Weight Watchers. They didn't dispute it or anything. They didn't say 'You don't need to diet' or 'Give it time - you're a growing girl' or anything. They simply wrote the note. Thanks, guys. I think this was the year I also had to go to a stat care in Hilton Head when I sliced my thumb open on a can of refried beans and had to get a tetnus shot and spent 5 minutes sobbing, begging the doctor not to stitch it. I should have just let him.
In eighth grade, I got another shot. The nurse must have nicked a vein or something because a huge purple, blue, grey, ugly bruise formed and wouldn't go away. For four months. I wore long sleeves most of the time for fear that someone would call child services.
In ninth grade, I had to get the Gardasil shots. When I got my first one, there was a weird bump at the injection site. I poked it. It bubbled. I'm fairly certain some of the serum didn't make it all the way into my arm, so when I pushed on the bump, everything ... bubbled it's way in. It was disgusting.
Tenth grade was when I had some sort of bizarre attack in Biology. I think my sugar levels dropped WAY low randomly, and the world got fuzzy and dark and all the sound was muted and I almost blacked out, so I had to leave school. A few weeks later, I went to the doctor and she told me she had no idea what was wrong with me, so she gave me a free test kit to test my sugar levels for a few days. AND she sent me to have bloodwork done immediately. My mom made me drive us to stat care to have the blood tests done even after I insisted (repeatedly) that my blood was probably happy where it was and that I would really like to keep all of it. That bitch stuck me in BOTH arms. And didn't give me a cookie or anything afterward. I then had to continue to slice my finger open and test my sugar for two days before she called to tell me that my blood work came back PERFECT and that I could stop cutting myself. For medical purposes. You know what I mean.
Last week I had to go in for my seasonal flu shot. They told me I was fat. And short. And they poked me with a needle. But they gave me a sparkley, holographic silver band-aid, which made me feel pretty BA.
Which brings us to today. They gave me antibiotics (yay) and a temporary inhaler. It's weird. I don't like it because it makes me feel like a druggie every time I use it. And they gave me a doctor's excuse. Through tomorrow. Which consequently makes me miss the concert. Whatever. At least I don't have swine flu.
I feel like I've skipped a lot of important stuff. Maybe someday I'll fill in the blanks of the past week and a half. But right now, I'm tired, my neck hurts, my throat hurts, my head hurts, I'm upset, and I'd really like to take this scarf off.
Las
I wish you could see how awesome I look right now.
I'm wearing a hoodie, my favorite pajama pants (which are a mile too long and look like someone on a REALLY bad acid trip designed them), no makeup at all, my Snuggie and to top it all off, a nice knit scarf (as instructed by my vocal teacher).
Yes. I have fallen victim to one of the many sicknesses floating around. Today was my third day off school with what was today diagnosed as bronchitis. Tomorrow will be my fourth because my doctor wrote me an excuse which does not allow for me to return to school until Friday. Which means I'm missing my choir concert tomorrow night. I deeply fear what's going to happen next. Which brings me to today's rant:
Doctors.
I understand that they're necessary. I respect them. I respect them a lot, actually. I'm just not such a big fan right now (although that may have something to do with the concert bitterness and me possibly failing choir, which, hi, how sad is THAT?).
Anyway, it seems that all doctors do is insult you. They tell you you're fat (which hurts even if you are). They tell you you're too thin (which hurts even if you are). Sometimes they can't figure out what's wrong with you. They sometimes perscribe drugs that make you want to kill yourself, or give you strange sexual urges, or make you lose your appetite.
Those are just general things. But honestly, I was thinking about this earlier:
The first strike the doctors had against them for me was when I had to get shots. In my hip. I couldn't walk/stand/sit without a pillow cushioning me for days. It was terrible.
When I was in fifth grade, I blew my knee out. I had to get it drained twice. It was just before the second draining that the doctor promised me if I let him drain it again, I would be able to play softball again that season. He lied.
In seventh grade, I asked them to write me a doctor's note so I could join Weight Watchers. They didn't dispute it or anything. They didn't say 'You don't need to diet' or 'Give it time - you're a growing girl' or anything. They simply wrote the note. Thanks, guys. I think this was the year I also had to go to a stat care in Hilton Head when I sliced my thumb open on a can of refried beans and had to get a tetnus shot and spent 5 minutes sobbing, begging the doctor not to stitch it. I should have just let him.
In eighth grade, I got another shot. The nurse must have nicked a vein or something because a huge purple, blue, grey, ugly bruise formed and wouldn't go away. For four months. I wore long sleeves most of the time for fear that someone would call child services.
In ninth grade, I had to get the Gardasil shots. When I got my first one, there was a weird bump at the injection site. I poked it. It bubbled. I'm fairly certain some of the serum didn't make it all the way into my arm, so when I pushed on the bump, everything ... bubbled it's way in. It was disgusting.
Tenth grade was when I had some sort of bizarre attack in Biology. I think my sugar levels dropped WAY low randomly, and the world got fuzzy and dark and all the sound was muted and I almost blacked out, so I had to leave school. A few weeks later, I went to the doctor and she told me she had no idea what was wrong with me, so she gave me a free test kit to test my sugar levels for a few days. AND she sent me to have bloodwork done immediately. My mom made me drive us to stat care to have the blood tests done even after I insisted (repeatedly) that my blood was probably happy where it was and that I would really like to keep all of it. That bitch stuck me in BOTH arms. And didn't give me a cookie or anything afterward. I then had to continue to slice my finger open and test my sugar for two days before she called to tell me that my blood work came back PERFECT and that I could stop cutting myself. For medical purposes. You know what I mean.
Last week I had to go in for my seasonal flu shot. They told me I was fat. And short. And they poked me with a needle. But they gave me a sparkley, holographic silver band-aid, which made me feel pretty BA.
Which brings us to today. They gave me antibiotics (yay) and a temporary inhaler. It's weird. I don't like it because it makes me feel like a druggie every time I use it. And they gave me a doctor's excuse. Through tomorrow. Which consequently makes me miss the concert. Whatever. At least I don't have swine flu.
I feel like I've skipped a lot of important stuff. Maybe someday I'll fill in the blanks of the past week and a half. But right now, I'm tired, my neck hurts, my throat hurts, my head hurts, I'm upset, and I'd really like to take this scarf off.
Las
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wired
For anyone who is still on the fence - I can finally attest to the fact that drinking coffee with liquified candy corns at 7 PM is really not a good idea.
So, now that we're clear...
We can move on.
I was informed yesterday that Zach thinks I'm intimidating.
What?
I feel like I'm possibly the least intimidating person I know. I'm not quite sure what he meant by 'intimidating' and the jury's still out on whether it's a good or bad thing. I don't know if he means intimidating like in a sense that I'm confident... which would be false. I'm also the least confident person I know. But, over the course of my 16 not confident years, I have become DAMN good at faking it.
Wait. That sounded mildly dirty.
But, over the course of my 16 not confident years, I have become DAMN good at making myself appear confident, even when I'm a panicky nervous wreck on the inside.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter. The point is that I don't think I'm an intimidating person. I'm short and chubby and I have crazy hair and my former journalism teacher seems to think I'm mildly ugly (mugly) (another story for another day).
So - really epic BA story:
Today during newspaper, Tori, AJ and I went around harassing people and dragging them out of their study halls to help us with the shot for the cover. Since we're doing a High School Survival Guide for our Focus section, our cover is a little freshman running away from a group of sophomores, juniors and seniors with papers and mass chaos going on behind him. So we got this adorable little dweeby freshman and a group of people and go to this secluded hallway and start running and chasing and throwing papers and snapping pictures.
It was amazing.
By the end of our shoot, there were papers literally ALL OVER THE HALLWAY. And there was like four minutes left in the class period. Our newspaper adviser's husband, who's the culinary arts teacher comes into the hallway and says, "You guys have about four minutes left and the administration is on their way down here with a representative from OSU."
Woops. So here's this group of twelve of us scrambling to get all the papers back into the recycling bin and sprinting back to class. It was hilarious and I'm pretty sure AJ got some good shots. So hooray. But yes. That was the most entertaining part of my day.
Okay. Even though I'm still a little hopped up on my coffee, I'm going to try to get to sleep because I was exhausted before the caffeine took effect. So wish me luck!
So, now that we're clear...
We can move on.
I was informed yesterday that Zach thinks I'm intimidating.
What?
I feel like I'm possibly the least intimidating person I know. I'm not quite sure what he meant by 'intimidating' and the jury's still out on whether it's a good or bad thing. I don't know if he means intimidating like in a sense that I'm confident... which would be false. I'm also the least confident person I know. But, over the course of my 16 not confident years, I have become DAMN good at faking it.
Wait. That sounded mildly dirty.
But, over the course of my 16 not confident years, I have become DAMN good at making myself appear confident, even when I'm a panicky nervous wreck on the inside.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter. The point is that I don't think I'm an intimidating person. I'm short and chubby and I have crazy hair and my former journalism teacher seems to think I'm mildly ugly (mugly) (another story for another day).
So - really epic BA story:
Today during newspaper, Tori, AJ and I went around harassing people and dragging them out of their study halls to help us with the shot for the cover. Since we're doing a High School Survival Guide for our Focus section, our cover is a little freshman running away from a group of sophomores, juniors and seniors with papers and mass chaos going on behind him. So we got this adorable little dweeby freshman and a group of people and go to this secluded hallway and start running and chasing and throwing papers and snapping pictures.
It was amazing.
By the end of our shoot, there were papers literally ALL OVER THE HALLWAY. And there was like four minutes left in the class period. Our newspaper adviser's husband, who's the culinary arts teacher comes into the hallway and says, "You guys have about four minutes left and the administration is on their way down here with a representative from OSU."
Woops. So here's this group of twelve of us scrambling to get all the papers back into the recycling bin and sprinting back to class. It was hilarious and I'm pretty sure AJ got some good shots. So hooray. But yes. That was the most entertaining part of my day.
Okay. Even though I'm still a little hopped up on my coffee, I'm going to try to get to sleep because I was exhausted before the caffeine took effect. So wish me luck!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
We're OLD
Tonight, I attended my first college fair.
It was interesting. And scary. It was weird because I went with my parents, but Wuh and Manda and Bee and Chelsea were all there. So it was like we were all running around to the colleges that piqued our interests, which were frequently not the same. I was going to journalism-y places, Manda was going to science schools (and somehow wound up with a Catholic brochure), Chelsea was looking at basically everything, including theatre, Bee was looking at art schools and such, and Wuh was going through English and French programs. So we didn't see a whole lot of each other, and the night was filled with phone calls and texts messages wondering 'Where are you?' or 'At the BW booth, where are YOU?'.
But the moments that we were together, we were our typical 'us'. Cracking jokes and making inappropriate comments and talking smack about the religious schools (shh, don't tell). When we were together, I couldn't help but think 'I can't ever imagine being away from these people. I love them too much.' That was the scariest part.
So...awkward. We ran into somebody I went to pre-school with. He and his mom were looking at schools. I have NO recollection of his mother, but I do remember him and his sister. However, he doesn't remember me at all. THAT was uncomfortable. But also kind of interesting. I don't ever see any of those people anymore so it was kind of fascinating to see how they turn out. For instance, in this case, tall, gangly, awkward and rather anti-social. But I won't judge.
After the fair, my parents and I went to my dad's friend's restaurant. Normally this would be an insignificant detail about my day, but I was put at ease by one thing:
A few tables next to us, there was this group of four women who were having the best time in the place. They were laughing and talking and eating and just having a blast. They reminded me of us. And now I'm convinced that everything will be okay.
It was interesting. And scary. It was weird because I went with my parents, but Wuh and Manda and Bee and Chelsea were all there. So it was like we were all running around to the colleges that piqued our interests, which were frequently not the same. I was going to journalism-y places, Manda was going to science schools (and somehow wound up with a Catholic brochure), Chelsea was looking at basically everything, including theatre, Bee was looking at art schools and such, and Wuh was going through English and French programs. So we didn't see a whole lot of each other, and the night was filled with phone calls and texts messages wondering 'Where are you?' or 'At the BW booth, where are YOU?'.
But the moments that we were together, we were our typical 'us'. Cracking jokes and making inappropriate comments and talking smack about the religious schools (shh, don't tell). When we were together, I couldn't help but think 'I can't ever imagine being away from these people. I love them too much.' That was the scariest part.
So...awkward. We ran into somebody I went to pre-school with. He and his mom were looking at schools. I have NO recollection of his mother, but I do remember him and his sister. However, he doesn't remember me at all. THAT was uncomfortable. But also kind of interesting. I don't ever see any of those people anymore so it was kind of fascinating to see how they turn out. For instance, in this case, tall, gangly, awkward and rather anti-social. But I won't judge.
After the fair, my parents and I went to my dad's friend's restaurant. Normally this would be an insignificant detail about my day, but I was put at ease by one thing:
A few tables next to us, there was this group of four women who were having the best time in the place. They were laughing and talking and eating and just having a blast. They reminded me of us. And now I'm convinced that everything will be okay.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Homecoming Drama
Typical high school.
Homecoming is this weekend. Initially, I wasn't going to be able to attend, because my...cousin's (I think) wedding was the same day as Homecoming. But I guess no one actually stopped to think that it actually would be plausible (and actually easier) if I stayed home and went to Homecoming so that traveling would be less of a hassle and I could be around for the dog.
So, yeah. My mom informed me and Chelsea and Zach at Kohl's the other night when we randomly ran into her in front of the lingerie section that they were going to let me go to Homecoming. Yay!
But.
(There's always a but. Why is there always a but?)
See, we have this issue. Which is where the typical high school drama comes into play. So Manda's got a boyfriend, Blake. And Manda and Blake are going in one group. Originally, the idea was that Manda would have more fun if we could somehow get ourselves into their group, except we're not allowed to go without dates. Which... is kind of douche-y if you ask me. But whatever. So Blake's BFF, Donny asked Bee to go with him so they could be in the same group and party together. Except then the asshat leader of their group, Nick, said that their group was already too big and it wouldn't be fair for them to be the exception and added in later.
So now Bee and Donny are going with DJ and Lauren and so Manda and Bee will be enjoying super-awkward homecoming dinners together, but apart.
Meanwhile, Wuh and I (I think) are going to Taylor's because she's cooking and we'll take pictures and all.
So, all the single ladies, put your hands up, because I'm fairly certain we won this round.
Except...
it's just one more event/occasion where we're apart.
Shocker.
Because, y'know. It's not like we haven't spent any good quality time together in two frigging months or anything.
Not that I'm bitter. Or anything.
Also - YES I have a dress and NO it is not my Snuggie, okay?
Homecoming is this weekend. Initially, I wasn't going to be able to attend, because my...cousin's (I think) wedding was the same day as Homecoming. But I guess no one actually stopped to think that it actually would be plausible (and actually easier) if I stayed home and went to Homecoming so that traveling would be less of a hassle and I could be around for the dog.
So, yeah. My mom informed me and Chelsea and Zach at Kohl's the other night when we randomly ran into her in front of the lingerie section that they were going to let me go to Homecoming. Yay!
But.
(There's always a but. Why is there always a but?)
See, we have this issue. Which is where the typical high school drama comes into play. So Manda's got a boyfriend, Blake. And Manda and Blake are going in one group. Originally, the idea was that Manda would have more fun if we could somehow get ourselves into their group, except we're not allowed to go without dates. Which... is kind of douche-y if you ask me. But whatever. So Blake's BFF, Donny asked Bee to go with him so they could be in the same group and party together. Except then the asshat leader of their group, Nick, said that their group was already too big and it wouldn't be fair for them to be the exception and added in later.
So now Bee and Donny are going with DJ and Lauren and so Manda and Bee will be enjoying super-awkward homecoming dinners together, but apart.
Meanwhile, Wuh and I (I think) are going to Taylor's because she's cooking and we'll take pictures and all.
So, all the single ladies, put your hands up, because I'm fairly certain we won this round.
Except...
it's just one more event/occasion where we're apart.
Shocker.
Because, y'know. It's not like we haven't spent any good quality time together in two frigging months or anything.
Not that I'm bitter. Or anything.
Also - YES I have a dress and NO it is not my Snuggie, okay?
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Thank You for Being a Friend
So.
Tonight, for the first time in an exceptionally long time, my friends and I spent an extended period of time together. Just the four of us. We realized last weekend that we hadn't spent time together alone since Roscoe Village, which was almost two months ago. We don't do stuff like that. We used to be together every minute of every day.
But really. There's something inexplicably amazing about sitting outside a dressing room listening to two of your friends bicker over whether or not one of them had worn a milkmaid-esque headband to school the day before while listening to the other quietly mumble along to "Hey Jude".
I miss my life with them.
Tonight, for the first time in an exceptionally long time, my friends and I spent an extended period of time together. Just the four of us. We realized last weekend that we hadn't spent time together alone since Roscoe Village, which was almost two months ago. We don't do stuff like that. We used to be together every minute of every day.
But really. There's something inexplicably amazing about sitting outside a dressing room listening to two of your friends bicker over whether or not one of them had worn a milkmaid-esque headband to school the day before while listening to the other quietly mumble along to "Hey Jude".
I miss my life with them.
Monday, September 21, 2009
An Open Note to Everyone I Know
Alright, getting a little personal again.
Don't tell me not to worry.
It's what I do. I worry. I frequently express a level of concern that could probably be considered 'too much'.
Whatever.
Don't bother telling me you're 'fine'. Until you can prove it to me, I won't believe it. It's just how I am. I can't change it. Also, don't not tell me things just because you're afraid I'll worry. I'll just worry that there's something you're not telling me, so you lose either way. Suck it up and tell the truth. And deal with the fact that I worry. Habitually.
Don't tell me not to worry.
It's what I do. I worry. I frequently express a level of concern that could probably be considered 'too much'.
Whatever.
Don't bother telling me you're 'fine'. Until you can prove it to me, I won't believe it. It's just how I am. I can't change it. Also, don't not tell me things just because you're afraid I'll worry. I'll just worry that there's something you're not telling me, so you lose either way. Suck it up and tell the truth. And deal with the fact that I worry. Habitually.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Also a Delicious Candy...
So... here's where I get kind of personal.
Not in a creepy way, but in the way that you get to learn more about me. Even though anyone out there reading this probably already knows me (and if you don't... umm...hi?), but I felt the need to post about me.
I'm a nerd.
I won't lie. I'm friends with a bunch of nerds. The other night, my mom came home from Parent's Night and told me about a conversation she had with my friend Zach's mom. Here's what she said to me:
"So I was talking to Zach's mom and she told me about the speech she gave you the other night when you picked Zach up to go shopping. The whole 'no drugs, no alcohol, no sex' bit. I told her we didn't really have anything to worry about. You're all a bunch of nerds."
Thanks, Mom.
No, really. If that wasn't completely true, I would be offended. But it is true. I own up to it. So I've decided to make a nice little list of all the things that make me nerdy.
- I am a complete Broadway Baby. I won't pretend it's not true. And I know it's not exactly a 'cool' music taste, but I don't care AND I ADORE IT.
- Going along with music tastes, I have completely let my father's music tastes impact my own. I'm almost embarrassed to admit to the Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin that has made its way onto my iPod. Also the Judy Garland, but she's my own obsession.
- I blast my showtunes while I'm driving around town.
- I have a Snuggie.
- I wear my Snuggie more often than necessary.
- I wore my Snuggie in public. Once.
- Just today I decided to drop my only study hall and go join 3rd period Newspaper. That means I go to Newspaper twice a day. Turns out, I'm kind of a junkie.
- During the holiday season, I frequently wear reindeer antlers in public with a ridiculously large amount of pride.
- I occasionally wear a blinking red nose with the same ridiculously large amount of pride.
- I don't swear in my Facebook statuses. But I'm pretty sure this is due to the sentry my Grandma (who has a Facebook) serves.
- I just used the word sentry in my blog.
- I have a blog.
- I am currently sitting at home with my dad and my dog while my mom is out partying with my aunt at a David Cook concert.
- Speaking of concerts, in my 16 years, I've been to one: Idina Menzel.
- I find my Government class really interesting.
- The other day my friends and I had a conversation about one of our friend's new relationships. He is a very positive person, and she is quite the Debbie Downer. We spent a good 2 or 3 minutes trying to decide if he was going to happy her up, or if she was going to drag him down with her. The final decision? Even though opposites attract, a positive and a negative make a negative.
- We watch 'Avatar'. A lot.
- My 15th birthday party was a My Little Pony theme. Complete with crowns and bracelets.
I'm sure there's more. I'm sure I'll add more. I'm running out of ideas though and am done for the night.
Not in a creepy way, but in the way that you get to learn more about me. Even though anyone out there reading this probably already knows me (and if you don't... umm...hi?), but I felt the need to post about me.
I'm a nerd.
I won't lie. I'm friends with a bunch of nerds. The other night, my mom came home from Parent's Night and told me about a conversation she had with my friend Zach's mom. Here's what she said to me:
"So I was talking to Zach's mom and she told me about the speech she gave you the other night when you picked Zach up to go shopping. The whole 'no drugs, no alcohol, no sex' bit. I told her we didn't really have anything to worry about. You're all a bunch of nerds."
Thanks, Mom.
No, really. If that wasn't completely true, I would be offended. But it is true. I own up to it. So I've decided to make a nice little list of all the things that make me nerdy.
- I am a complete Broadway Baby. I won't pretend it's not true. And I know it's not exactly a 'cool' music taste, but I don't care AND I ADORE IT.
- Going along with music tastes, I have completely let my father's music tastes impact my own. I'm almost embarrassed to admit to the Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin that has made its way onto my iPod. Also the Judy Garland, but she's my own obsession.
- I blast my showtunes while I'm driving around town.
- I have a Snuggie.
- I wear my Snuggie more often than necessary.
- I wore my Snuggie in public. Once.
- Just today I decided to drop my only study hall and go join 3rd period Newspaper. That means I go to Newspaper twice a day. Turns out, I'm kind of a junkie.
- During the holiday season, I frequently wear reindeer antlers in public with a ridiculously large amount of pride.
- I occasionally wear a blinking red nose with the same ridiculously large amount of pride.
- I don't swear in my Facebook statuses. But I'm pretty sure this is due to the sentry my Grandma (who has a Facebook) serves.
- I just used the word sentry in my blog.
- I have a blog.
- I am currently sitting at home with my dad and my dog while my mom is out partying with my aunt at a David Cook concert.
- Speaking of concerts, in my 16 years, I've been to one: Idina Menzel.
- I find my Government class really interesting.
- The other day my friends and I had a conversation about one of our friend's new relationships. He is a very positive person, and she is quite the Debbie Downer. We spent a good 2 or 3 minutes trying to decide if he was going to happy her up, or if she was going to drag him down with her. The final decision? Even though opposites attract, a positive and a negative make a negative.
- We watch 'Avatar'. A lot.
- My 15th birthday party was a My Little Pony theme. Complete with crowns and bracelets.
I'm sure there's more. I'm sure I'll add more. I'm running out of ideas though and am done for the night.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Woops...
Oh, and I forgot. Since everyone's talking about the whole Kanye West taking the microphone from Taylor Swift to talk up Beyonce thing at the VMAs, I figured I'd weigh in.
Kanye's being an asshat.
Yesterday at lunch we were discussing it:
Candice: I just don't understand. She's TAYLOR SWIFT. And you don't f*** with T. Swift. You just don't. Damn you, Kanye. Just, damn you."
Also, I like what Kelly Clarkson said about how "It's absolutely fascinating how much I don't like you" because it totally sounds like something I would say.
And kudos to the tactless move Jay Leno made by bringing Kanye's late mother into the mix. I bet that got him thinking.
"What would your mother say if she saw you do that?"
Dead silence.
(No pun intended).
Snaps to Leno.
Kanye's being an asshat.
Yesterday at lunch we were discussing it:
Candice: I just don't understand. She's TAYLOR SWIFT. And you don't f*** with T. Swift. You just don't. Damn you, Kanye. Just, damn you."
Also, I like what Kelly Clarkson said about how "It's absolutely fascinating how much I don't like you" because it totally sounds like something I would say.
And kudos to the tactless move Jay Leno made by bringing Kanye's late mother into the mix. I bet that got him thinking.
"What would your mother say if she saw you do that?"
Dead silence.
(No pun intended).
Snaps to Leno.
What Doesn't Kill Me...
makes me stronger, right? I'm not so sure. I'm testing it out. Today was a good testing day. It was a good testing day, but all around it was the kind of day that made me want to kick puppies. (Not really, but, you know...).
Anyway, my string of bad luck literally started the minute I got up this morning. I was putting my make-up on this morning when my phone made its cute little 'Hey, you have a new text message sound'. I knew it couldn't be anyone other than Chelsea to update me on the posting of the 'Beauty and the Beast' cast list because I'm too lazy (and too chicken) to look at it myself.
I won't lie. My expectations were low. I mostly expected another spectacular failure - which IS what I got. Still. No matter how many times I say I don't really care, it does still hurt. And not just a little. Just so you know.
Anyway, this was the succession of text messages:
Chelsea - If it helps at all I'm REALLY upset.
Me - Uh oh.
Chelsea - I'm just... Wow. Not impressed. Just. Wow.
Me - Hmm. I'm half-tempted to check it out.
Not that I did. Still haven't. So that kind of set the tone for the day. Apparently the cast is WAY jacked up and Chelsea seems to everything was poor judgment on their part.
Whatever.
When I got to school, I had to take a horrendous Spanish test, complete with two essay questions that needed to be answered entirely in Espanol. 'Nuff said.
Then I went to English and had to churn out a really sad essay about all the tragedies and such in "The Grapes of Wrath", which, pathetically, was probably one of the highest points of my day. The essay's tone seemed to match my general mood, so we got along pretty well. Although, GOD ONLY KNOWS how well I did on THAT because I got an 86 on my memoir. I'm REALLY disappointed with myself. I just feel like everything so far this year has progressed in a rapidly spinning downward spiral and I'm really not too happy about it.
However, I do have to admit that watching 'Forensic Files' in Chem was pretty amusing, even though I'd already seen one of the episodes she played for us (which, WTF? I've watched 'Forensic Files' probably twice in my life... HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?). Choir was typical and we had to do the creepy back massage thing which I am still not comfortable with. And then, newspaper, which I thought to be my reprive, betrayed me. Rather, AOL betrayed me and wouldn't let me in to get to my e-mail so my plan for the day was shot. But going to take staff headshots was rather entertaining.
And yes, it did brighten my life a little bit when I walked into Gov. to find Mr. Cummings jamming to some Frank Sinatra. But then I had to go to math, and remembered that I was experiencing a completely different downward spiral in that class.
Happy happy joy joy.
So anyway, to go back to the beginning, I think 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger' is a lie. I don't think I've gained anything through today. I really just want to curl up in my Snuggie and cry for a while and eat the remaining Halloween Oreos that are sitting on the top of the stove. However, I won't do that because then I really would gain something - pounds. I think 'Next to Normal' says it better:
"What doesn't kill me doesn't kill me." And maybe that's all.
Anyway, my string of bad luck literally started the minute I got up this morning. I was putting my make-up on this morning when my phone made its cute little 'Hey, you have a new text message sound'. I knew it couldn't be anyone other than Chelsea to update me on the posting of the 'Beauty and the Beast' cast list because I'm too lazy (and too chicken) to look at it myself.
I won't lie. My expectations were low. I mostly expected another spectacular failure - which IS what I got. Still. No matter how many times I say I don't really care, it does still hurt. And not just a little. Just so you know.
Anyway, this was the succession of text messages:
Chelsea - If it helps at all I'm REALLY upset.
Me - Uh oh.
Chelsea - I'm just... Wow. Not impressed. Just. Wow.
Me - Hmm. I'm half-tempted to check it out.
Not that I did. Still haven't. So that kind of set the tone for the day. Apparently the cast is WAY jacked up and Chelsea seems to everything was poor judgment on their part.
Whatever.
When I got to school, I had to take a horrendous Spanish test, complete with two essay questions that needed to be answered entirely in Espanol. 'Nuff said.
Then I went to English and had to churn out a really sad essay about all the tragedies and such in "The Grapes of Wrath", which, pathetically, was probably one of the highest points of my day. The essay's tone seemed to match my general mood, so we got along pretty well. Although, GOD ONLY KNOWS how well I did on THAT because I got an 86 on my memoir. I'm REALLY disappointed with myself. I just feel like everything so far this year has progressed in a rapidly spinning downward spiral and I'm really not too happy about it.
However, I do have to admit that watching 'Forensic Files' in Chem was pretty amusing, even though I'd already seen one of the episodes she played for us (which, WTF? I've watched 'Forensic Files' probably twice in my life... HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?). Choir was typical and we had to do the creepy back massage thing which I am still not comfortable with. And then, newspaper, which I thought to be my reprive, betrayed me. Rather, AOL betrayed me and wouldn't let me in to get to my e-mail so my plan for the day was shot. But going to take staff headshots was rather entertaining.
And yes, it did brighten my life a little bit when I walked into Gov. to find Mr. Cummings jamming to some Frank Sinatra. But then I had to go to math, and remembered that I was experiencing a completely different downward spiral in that class.
Happy happy joy joy.
So anyway, to go back to the beginning, I think 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger' is a lie. I don't think I've gained anything through today. I really just want to curl up in my Snuggie and cry for a while and eat the remaining Halloween Oreos that are sitting on the top of the stove. However, I won't do that because then I really would gain something - pounds. I think 'Next to Normal' says it better:
"What doesn't kill me doesn't kill me." And maybe that's all.
Friday, September 11, 2009
What IS This Feeling...?
I seem to have forgotten what it is.
It's a Friday night. 8:35. A time when people are out partying or drinking coffee or watching movies or shows or whatever else it is normal people do. And here I am in my house, wearing really comfy blue sweatpants, fuzzy mismatched socks, wrapped entirely in my royal blue Snuggie (don't judge - it's awesome) because the current temperature of my house is just a few degrees shy of rivaling that of Antarctica. I'm contemplating putting on gloves, but with my luck, all I would be able to find would be mittens which, while toasty, are not exactly condusive to blog writing.
So here I sit. The girls are at the football game in Lexington (aka GOD KNOWS WHERE). On a Friday night such as this, I, too, would ordinarily be at the game, however I am not tonight, considering it's roughly 85 miles away. Chelsea's out with some other friends. I have no idea what the rest of my friends are doing but now it's almost 9:00 and I would be laughed at if I asked someone to meet me for coffee.
Plus my current wardrobe choice would make going out awfully tricky, and I'm too lazy to change.
I have no real, pressing homework. I don't have to go to work tomorrow, so I have nothing to vent and whine and complain about. I can't even think of any projects that I've been wanting to get to but just haven't because I've been busy. I could be coloring but I'm not really inspired (although you would think a girl with a 120 pack of crayons would be constantly inspired). I could paint my toes but my feet are still cold and I really don't feel like taking off my non-matching socks. I could paint my finger nails, too, but when I do, it always comes out looking like someone with Parkinson's did the job for me.
I could try to finish "The Time Traveler's Wife" and start "A Thousand Splendid Suns" but I've already read over 100 pages today and my brain is about to explode. Plus, I'm pretty sure I've figured out what happens at the end of "The Time Traveler's Wife" and now am not all that anxious to finish it.
I already watched my DVRed episode of "Project Runway" from last night. And my father has taken control of the TV anyway, so even if I hadn't that wouldn't be an option.
So back to the words of "Wicked"...
"What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"
I believe it's called boredom.
I don't know what to do with myself.
It's a Friday night. 8:35. A time when people are out partying or drinking coffee or watching movies or shows or whatever else it is normal people do. And here I am in my house, wearing really comfy blue sweatpants, fuzzy mismatched socks, wrapped entirely in my royal blue Snuggie (don't judge - it's awesome) because the current temperature of my house is just a few degrees shy of rivaling that of Antarctica. I'm contemplating putting on gloves, but with my luck, all I would be able to find would be mittens which, while toasty, are not exactly condusive to blog writing.
So here I sit. The girls are at the football game in Lexington (aka GOD KNOWS WHERE). On a Friday night such as this, I, too, would ordinarily be at the game, however I am not tonight, considering it's roughly 85 miles away. Chelsea's out with some other friends. I have no idea what the rest of my friends are doing but now it's almost 9:00 and I would be laughed at if I asked someone to meet me for coffee.
Plus my current wardrobe choice would make going out awfully tricky, and I'm too lazy to change.
I have no real, pressing homework. I don't have to go to work tomorrow, so I have nothing to vent and whine and complain about. I can't even think of any projects that I've been wanting to get to but just haven't because I've been busy. I could be coloring but I'm not really inspired (although you would think a girl with a 120 pack of crayons would be constantly inspired). I could paint my toes but my feet are still cold and I really don't feel like taking off my non-matching socks. I could paint my finger nails, too, but when I do, it always comes out looking like someone with Parkinson's did the job for me.
I could try to finish "The Time Traveler's Wife" and start "A Thousand Splendid Suns" but I've already read over 100 pages today and my brain is about to explode. Plus, I'm pretty sure I've figured out what happens at the end of "The Time Traveler's Wife" and now am not all that anxious to finish it.
I already watched my DVRed episode of "Project Runway" from last night. And my father has taken control of the TV anyway, so even if I hadn't that wouldn't be an option.
So back to the words of "Wicked"...
"What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"
I believe it's called boredom.
I don't know what to do with myself.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Sigh
Sorry about the second blog post in one day, but I felt like this situation says a lot about my life, so I decided to share it.
For newspaper, my beat is the Board of Education. For this, I have to attend the Board of Education meetings every month. Last week, I sent an e-mail to one of the board members to find out when the next board meeting was, and he told me that they would have a preliminary meeting about their budget at 6:00 tonight, and the regular meeting would begin at 7:00. I decided that the regular meeting was more of a concern to me, so I decided just to go then.
I arrived at the school at 6:50 and was excited because I thought I was early.
Wrong.
I took my seat in the library just in time for them to introduce the very last order of business and adjourn the meeting. Then I realized that the agenda I had said 'September 10 Rescheduled Meeting - 6:00'.
ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
I missed the whole thing! Not only did I miss the whole thing, I showed up in my zebra print dress with leggings and huge 80s hair, and a bow headband in my hair, so I basically looked like a floozy (true, this could have been avoided, but I didn't feel it necessary to change - I felt if I could present myself professionally, the hair/outfit wouldn't matter - oops).
Anyway, I'm home now, almost an hour before I thought I would be and watching a recorded episode of 'Househusbands of Hollywood'. And I feel like a fool.
Peace.
For newspaper, my beat is the Board of Education. For this, I have to attend the Board of Education meetings every month. Last week, I sent an e-mail to one of the board members to find out when the next board meeting was, and he told me that they would have a preliminary meeting about their budget at 6:00 tonight, and the regular meeting would begin at 7:00. I decided that the regular meeting was more of a concern to me, so I decided just to go then.
I arrived at the school at 6:50 and was excited because I thought I was early.
Wrong.
I took my seat in the library just in time for them to introduce the very last order of business and adjourn the meeting. Then I realized that the agenda I had said 'September 10 Rescheduled Meeting - 6:00'.
ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
I missed the whole thing! Not only did I miss the whole thing, I showed up in my zebra print dress with leggings and huge 80s hair, and a bow headband in my hair, so I basically looked like a floozy (true, this could have been avoided, but I didn't feel it necessary to change - I felt if I could present myself professionally, the hair/outfit wouldn't matter - oops).
Anyway, I'm home now, almost an hour before I thought I would be and watching a recorded episode of 'Househusbands of Hollywood'. And I feel like a fool.
Peace.
You're So Vain
Before I get around to my actual ranting post, I do want to tell you something:
In case you're too chicken to find out yourself, YES, first degree burns DO HURT!
Found that out the hard way in Chemistry today when I decided it would be a really fantastic idea to try to pick up the piece of glass I was trying to bend a little too close to the middle. Awesome. So I can't really feel the tip of my right thumb, which is really quite inconvenient because I'm right-handed. Boo.
Is it bad that I'm updating my blog from school? I feel a little scandalous, when it's really nothing compared to the short skirts some girls wear and all the texting that the teachers seem to be oblivious to. Plus, there's nothing in the handbook that says 'No updating blogs while you're at school'. I mean, yeah, it's not exactly the most productive use of time, but considering I'm here for an extra 45 minutes waiting for my friends to get out of band and I have no other homework, I don't really feel all that guilty about it because I would wind up doing it at home later anyway.
ANYWAY. You know what I really, really can't stand? Stupid vanity plates. My hatred for them grows stronger every day, each time I see one. I hate, hate, haaaaate them. I really don't care if you love your cat, and if you're a doctor, I would rather discover this by going to your practice rather than driving behind you on the expressway. Seriously? STOP PUTTING STUPID CRAP ON YOUR LICENSE PLATE! Chances are that you are the only one who understands it, and why would you pay good money to have a private joke with yourself and broadcast it to the world? It's ridiculous.
For instance, one time my dad and I were driving behind someone with a license plate that read 'C U N CORT'. Great. Do you know what I know about the guy driving this car? He's probably a lawyer (okay, maybe he's a judge) AND he's probably going to get the snot beat out of him at some point. Also, I'm 99% sure he's prick.
A few weeks ago I pulled into a parking spot at Giant Eagle next to someone with the license plate 'C8PE COD'. C8pe Cod? That doesn't even make sense. CateP Cod? WTF? Honestly, if 'CAPE COD' is taken, MOVE ON. Look, I'm sorry your dreams are shattered, but there's no reason for your to add unnecessary syllables to your favorite vacation spot just for the satisfaction of knowing that everyone else driving around you (people who don't care in the first place) knows you love Cape Cod.
Alright, I'm out of energy to rant anymore about this particular subject, but I assure you there will be more rants to come.
In case you're too chicken to find out yourself, YES, first degree burns DO HURT!
Found that out the hard way in Chemistry today when I decided it would be a really fantastic idea to try to pick up the piece of glass I was trying to bend a little too close to the middle. Awesome. So I can't really feel the tip of my right thumb, which is really quite inconvenient because I'm right-handed. Boo.
Is it bad that I'm updating my blog from school? I feel a little scandalous, when it's really nothing compared to the short skirts some girls wear and all the texting that the teachers seem to be oblivious to. Plus, there's nothing in the handbook that says 'No updating blogs while you're at school'. I mean, yeah, it's not exactly the most productive use of time, but considering I'm here for an extra 45 minutes waiting for my friends to get out of band and I have no other homework, I don't really feel all that guilty about it because I would wind up doing it at home later anyway.
ANYWAY. You know what I really, really can't stand? Stupid vanity plates. My hatred for them grows stronger every day, each time I see one. I hate, hate, haaaaate them. I really don't care if you love your cat, and if you're a doctor, I would rather discover this by going to your practice rather than driving behind you on the expressway. Seriously? STOP PUTTING STUPID CRAP ON YOUR LICENSE PLATE! Chances are that you are the only one who understands it, and why would you pay good money to have a private joke with yourself and broadcast it to the world? It's ridiculous.
For instance, one time my dad and I were driving behind someone with a license plate that read 'C U N CORT'. Great. Do you know what I know about the guy driving this car? He's probably a lawyer (okay, maybe he's a judge) AND he's probably going to get the snot beat out of him at some point. Also, I'm 99% sure he's prick.
A few weeks ago I pulled into a parking spot at Giant Eagle next to someone with the license plate 'C8PE COD'. C8pe Cod? That doesn't even make sense. CateP Cod? WTF? Honestly, if 'CAPE COD' is taken, MOVE ON. Look, I'm sorry your dreams are shattered, but there's no reason for your to add unnecessary syllables to your favorite vacation spot just for the satisfaction of knowing that everyone else driving around you (people who don't care in the first place) knows you love Cape Cod.
Alright, I'm out of energy to rant anymore about this particular subject, but I assure you there will be more rants to come.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Let's Try This Again...
Hey everyone. So I actually tried this whole blogging thing once, but I'm pretty sure the website changed their terms and I was locked out of my blog, and I believe it no longer exists. No great loss, though, because I'm pretty sure it only had like three or four posts.
Anyway, hi. I'm Alexa. My blog is called Double Epiphany because my original blog was called Epiphany. However, to anyone who knows me, who are probably the only people who are reading this, it probably sounds REALLY inappropriate. Truthfully, that pretty much sums up my life.
So about this blog. Ideally, this will be a place for me to record all of my profound, prolific thoughts and ideas (probably few and far between). However, its dual purpose will most likely be my ranting place.
Well, I seem to be running very low on creative ideas, but I'll try to update this soon. Adios!
Anyway, hi. I'm Alexa. My blog is called Double Epiphany because my original blog was called Epiphany. However, to anyone who knows me, who are probably the only people who are reading this, it probably sounds REALLY inappropriate. Truthfully, that pretty much sums up my life.
So about this blog. Ideally, this will be a place for me to record all of my profound, prolific thoughts and ideas (probably few and far between). However, its dual purpose will most likely be my ranting place.
Well, I seem to be running very low on creative ideas, but I'll try to update this soon. Adios!
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