titles are hard. (LOL)

I am skipping my second hour Geometry class to sit in a hard chair in the library and type to you today. Okay, so I’m not actually skipping. My new teacher (who is so nice) isn’t here today and because he gives us two days to work on review packets for our tests, I asked the sub if I could go to the library to use a computer because I had finished it yesterday. He said yes, but first he asked if I was planning on doing drugs in the library. “Not in the library, no,” I replied, smirking. He didn’t understand the irony (as he doesn’t know me, of course) and gave me a steel-lipped grimace. Oh well, he gave me a pass anyway.

I can’t really avoid the topic anymore, with quippy anecdotes about the irony of drugs and subs with perpetually problematic nose hair. (How good this feels, boy oh.) I haven’t blogged in a while. A month, almost. Or maybe like two weeks, let me check. Almost a month, yeah. I just… arg. Okay. I have been trying to blog about this for almost two weeks, but I’ve never been able to get the words right. So, here goes. I’ve felt like lately, my blogs haven’t been so much me. It’s no one’s fault but my own, but I feel like I was blogging for others. Actually this time, unlike the times I have talked about it before. I want to talk about what I want to talk about, without the fear that if I go “too serious”, I won’t get comments or the comments will comment on the one humorous thing I say and I’ll start to feel even worse about something that is so important to me. I just need to get past that. People want to hear the funny, the random, the amazing little things that happen to me in my strange-ass life, and I just need to ignore that nagging feeling in my brain that nobody will like it. I slowly realized that over the last month and every time I thought of blogging, I felt so conflicted.

Maybe I’m the only one who sees this, but when I read back past entries, it just doesn’t sound like me. Or, it does, I guess, but a more polished version of me. I’m not perfect, far from it, and I don’t want to come across as such. “I have really bad breath in the morning?” LOL, sorry. Okay, focus. That’s always been a problem, hasn’t it? But really, I’m not perfect. I cut myself (accidentally!) weekly in the shower. I get jealous and annoyed and I want to kick people. I’m not always happy, and I’m not always thinking crazy thoughts. People hurt my feelings and when I try to stand up for myself, I come across as a rude bitch. I ramble and talk so much when I’m with friends or on here because I don’t get paid attention to at home so much. I have a sorry body image. I regret so much from middle school. I’m awkward and I don’t know how to stop it. Boys enchant me and scare me at the same time. I fall in love too easily. I panic. I’m sad a lot of times, for no reason at all, and it’s scary. I don’t want to pretend anymore; I want to show the people who read this and care that I am more than the quirky, always-grinning M that I make myself out to be. I am that person, but I’m more. I’m not perfect.

I’m telling you all this because I just want to be honest. And today? It’s my one year anniversary of my blog. One year ago, today, I was suffering from a bout of insomnia and decided to create a blog that I knew (or thought, as it turned out) I would never keep. But, I did. I’ve never stuck with something this huge before. Just, wow. A year.

I’m going to blog again. Regularly, most likely. But I think it will be different. More honest, with more serious entries sprinkled in. I hope you guys still like me after this. Really, I do. Because I like yooooou. (Corn over porn! That was stupid.)
PS. Sorry this was so long.
PPS. I love you guys, really, all of you. Just for reading this. Thank you.

feeling like spring.

For days, but especially today, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that it’s spring. It’s so weird. I just feel that light and fluffy feeling, of the snow finally melting and jackets being shrugged off and the crisp, clear air. I could be feeling this, bathing in this feeling, and look out of the window and see the obvious snow on the ground, and the feeling won’t leave. It’s wonderful. I don’t know if it’s because the semester at is ending and it feels like a new beginning, much like spring is, but I just feel overwhelmed with this light and fuzzy happiness. And the wonderful confidence and ease with social situations that comes with it.

I remember, all day, feeling like I had last year on this one particular day. It was the first day that I really felt, “this is spring. Holy crap, it’s here.” I was wearing this shirt that I have that reads, “It’s okay, Pluto, I’m not a planet either” for the first time and these new jeans. It was also the first day of swimming in gym, and so my hair was a bit damp for the rest of the day. That’s back when I had a lot of hair and it sort of dried in his wavy, tangled mess, but not in an unpleasant way. It was kind of nice. I remember something was special about that day, and it started early. Everything was sort of going right, I guess. I remember 7th hour History was amazing that day, everyone in the class was laughing and getting along and it just felt so nice in the air.

At the end of the day, I stepped out of the building with this massive jacket on my back, wearing my winter jacket, and it was just so nice. I took off my jacket and my sweater, and so all that was exposed was my bare arms in this tshirt and I remember how amazing the air felt on my skin. If I weren’t in the company of a hundred of so of my classmates, I probably would have spun around or something. I put in my headphones and as I walked home, I just couldn’t help grinning. When I got there, I put on a grey sweater (yeah, I remember) and hopped on my bike. I can’t wait until it’s actually spring, where I can run and bike and frolic around as I walk home instead of just stuffing my hands in my pockets and breathing against the cold wind.

But anyway, all day today I felt exactly like that. It was the weirdest thing in the world. But amazing. But then again, really freakin’ weird. To spend an entire day feeling like you’re in an entirely different time? I hardly even felt cold when I walked home. Has this happened to any of you guys before?

I don’t know why I’m telling you guys this. I just wanted to. I hope you don’t mind this uncharacteristically self-reflective and personal entry. I feel like sometimes I fall into ruts where all I talk about is quirky, MLIA-esque happenings. I want to be real, you know? I think like this all the time, and it’s only fair that I share it with the people who care enough to read this old thing. (Old thing is right, Saturday was my 11th month anniversary. Next month? Big things.)

On that note, I should probably be getting to bed. I have a test at 7:30am, and I need to be bright and bushy-tailed. I’m also kind of excited for what tomorrow is going to be like. More than usual, you know?

guilty and stupid.

I have become addicted to clementines. I am seriously sitting here, in my bed, with the laptop on my lap, and three clementines-worth of peels hangin’ out next to me. They are so thirst-quenching and juicy and delicious, and oh man, I love them. Except now the smell of them is giving me a slight headache and so I think I’m gonna take them downstairs and brush my teefz.

I’ve been thinking a lot about guilty pleasures lately. Because I have a lot of them, and have been experiencing them in my life quite frequently lately. To me, a guilty pleasure is really anything that you’d look at and think that it didn’t fit my nerdy alternative style of doing things, or something like that. Something that doesn’t sound as conceited. But the truth is, not everything I like is so different from the “average teenage girl”, whatever that may be. The truth is, I like the song Paparazzi by Lady Gaga. When I type the letter “p” into Firefox, that song on YouTube comes up first. The truth is, I like chick-lit, and bad chick-lit at that. Yesterday I sat down in my living room and read an entire “Clique” book in one sitting. And you know what? I freakin’ loved it.

The truth is, not all of the TV shows I watch are as intelligent, as cool, as filled with smart humor and stylistic effects. The truth is, while I don’t like Gossip Girl or The Hills or the ancient Laguna Beach, I like The Secret Life of the American Teenager. And I don’t care what you say. That show is absolutely amazing. It has heart, and it’s funny and it makes me yell at the TV with passion and it makes me cry and it makes me fall in love with it with every single episode. I recently got the first two seasons on DVD and oh man, I am so glad I did. See, I had previously seen the entirety of season one and about three episodes of season two, but after that? Nothing. Nada. Zippo. And I thought it would be fun to rematch and watch for the first time. And now that I have, I am not going to hide it anymore. So, suck it!

So, I wanna know. Guilty pleasures? Have ‘em? Don’t like ‘em? I have so many more, but I’ll save that for another day. ;]

Over the past few days, I have been hurting in… some areas. Haha, that sounded wrong. No! Not like that! Gross! Just, when I would get up in school, my butt would ache, and then my thigh as I walked down the hallways, and the incised of my (virtually non-existent) bicep would ache as I stretched my arms behind me, and I really didn’t know why. I’m not in Gym class right now, and so I’m not lifting weights or anything. I was very confused, and intent on figuring it out. Then, today, when I was leaning over, ignoring the rather painful thigh-jab, to retrieve a dustpan, I realized that on Thursday morning, I freaking fell down the stairs. I know, I’m such an idiot. How did I not remember that? Ugh, stupid stupid stupid. But my butt still hurts. The left cheek, to be more exact. Sneehee, you didn’t wanna know? Neither did I.

And so I am going to return to my guilty pleasureness now. Without clementines to hold my attention, nothing stands in the way of me and the birth of Amy’s baby. So. Freaking. Excited. Later, snaligators!

PS. The title makes it sound like this entry was going to be a downer, but it was so not. HA!

freaking out, under the covers. ooooh.

Hey! Oh, hey! I actually don’t have time to write this tonight. Literally, actually. I’m under the covers with my laptop and some notes and my giant World History book with a booklight because my mom wouldn’t let me stay up past my bedtime to do my homework. Oof, boy. But, it’s 9:43 and I still have a ways to go, and that’s really why I don’t have time to write this. I swear, it’s not me being all like “mnlah, let’s lie to the nice people who read this and go read a Clique book, zoooooom!” (Because I would never read a Clique book. Ever.) I actually have a shiz load of stuff to do before I get give in to these tantalizing pillows and snooze my away through another day. Or, re, night. But only one more sleep until Saturday morning!

It appears that I’m writing this anyway. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Oh well, at least I’m not on Facebook or anything. Plus, it’s halfway a writing assignment and so I’m just flexing my writing muscles. Yeah!

If you think this this Thursday evening is insane, let me tell you about the Thursday evenings that will be coming up in a few weeks. Okay, let me start from the beginning.

On regular Thursdays, the final bell rings for school and I jet out of my classroom and to my locker and out of the door as fast as possible because I’ve got to walk home, grab a snack, get my guitar, and try to make it to my lesson without being late or out of breath or worse, both. And then I usually get home at about five o’clock, and try to do my homework before my mom gets home because when she’s home she needs help with dinner and dinner takes forever and a day and I’m pretty much out of luck for getting anything done besides eating from 6pm to 7:30pm. So, after that, I try to finish my homework as quickly as possible so I can curl desperately up on my bed and read until about 9:30 or so, when I go to bed because I’ve got to wake up at 5:40. Okay, sounds hectic, right?

Starting in two weeks, I’m going to be taking Driver’s Ed every Tuesday and Thursday nights from 7-9pm. And I’m kind of freaking out, because what if I have another night like this where the homework is being piled on like floating bookcases and the only time I have to do any of it is in that little sliver of time between 5pm and 6:45pm? And then all of the studying I’m going to get done from between 9:15 to 9:30, when I’m getting ready for bed? Ooh, man, the stress level is piling on. I really don’t want to go to bed at 11 and 12 and even sometimes, freaking 1 like I did last year. I would be so tired and disgruntled and unhappy all throughout the day and it was just horrible. My whole day would suck because I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I couldn’t concentrate and it was just plain awful.

But, hey, you know what, pepple, peeps, homiez? I think it’s going to be okay. It’ll be hectic as hell (hehe!) and I might get expelled from driver’s school from doing Geometry homework in the middle of it, but you know what? Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it’ll be like an adventure, a race against time. Okay, now I’m excited. Warped self ftw.

Oh, shiz. I totally didn’t have time for this, but I ranted about nothingness anyways. Oh well! Bye!

PS. Question if you want! What is your busiest day of the week?

alligators on the floose.

I rarely use the “Add New Post” section of wordpress to actually write my blog. I usually use TextEdit throughout my evening to jot down paragraphs and quotes and ideas, and then finish it up in TextEdit. Then I move it over to Pages where it has a wordcount and see about how close I am. Then I read through, do a spell check, and copy and paste it over to wordpress to polish it off with some categories and tags and tile. The reason I’m telling you guys this is mostly because I am writing it in the “Add New Post” section today. Just for funsies, I guess. I know it sounds like a complicated and long-ass process, but I don’t know. It makes me feel like I’m doing something real and professional when I put all of that work into it, you know? How do you guys write your blogs, those of you who do? It doesn’t matter what website you use. =]

I’ve mentioned before how much I love projects, right? Internet-related ones, mostly, because I like doing projects that might benefit others (if that’s not way too cocky to say) and so the internet is a good place to start. Because my next project isn’t until April (BEDA 2.0, who’s going to do it again?), I wanted to do something else. I’m doing this thing in January where I have to comment on every video that comes into my subscription box. Which isn’t as hard as I thought, I just have to actually remember. But the reason I’m doing it is because I realized that I only comment on videos of people I’m actually friends with. Or people who will reply. Which is kind of dumb, actually, because it’s fun to comment. Even though, yeah, I’m not going to get a reply on a vlogbrothers video or something, it’s still fun to say, “Hank, dude, this video ruled. 5 gold stars!” I mean, yeah, maybe he won’t even read it, but if he does? It could make his day. You never know! So, it is really fun, actually. Except I kind of came into a problem today with my sexymacaroni video. I’m obviously subscribed to thesexymac, do I comment on my own video? I decided that replying to someone’s comment counted. …that counts, right? Screw that, it’s my thing, right?!

“It would be my honor… to be your new stepfather.” Sorry, guys. Okay, that actually reminds me of something. I kind of hate it that the kids who are considered “deep” in high school are the kids who post song lyrics as their Facebook status messages. Without quotations. Is it the mystique? That you don’t know if it’s their brilliance or they just know or listen to someone brilliant? It kind of gets under my skin. If you’re quoting someone, please use quotation marks. It’s just… it doesn’t make you any cooler, right? And it’s almost like you’re taking credit for someone else’s work, without the quotation marks. Is it just that the song is in your head? I know, the cure for that is posting it as a Facebook status. It just seems kind of fake to me, I guess. At least the other kids use their own words, right? I know that “bbl, homework” and “dogggg moneyyyy” aren’t the most intellectual of things to say, but come on, at least they’re being themselves. I don’t know, I really don’t mean to offend anyone who does this, but actually, wait. If you do that kind of thing, what’s your motivation? Sorry for that annoyance of the day, homiez.

Later, alligators! *rawr, snap!* …that was the sound of an alligator. Jealous, right?!

PS. I seriously meant to type “loose”, but it came out as “floose” and I thought it was nice. That’s the explanation. I know.

la la la, random title.

Call me selfish or smelly or snobby whatever, but I think it’s harder to go back to school (whether that be from summer or some kind of holiday break) when you’ve got this whole other life online. I mean, during breaks from school, my internet friends become the most frequent people in my life. And it’s so hard to go from talking to them constantly to managing to talk to them between homework and videos and after-school activities and time differences and bedtimes and… *sigh* This is the biggest break that I’ve had to get used to after summer, and I remember how hard that was. I don’t want this close feeling to go away. I just… can’t let it.

Last night, I wanted to blog pretty badly, but I got home at midnight and so it was a bit late to be typing furiously, so I didn’t. Hehe, out all night at a party. It was just a family party, and why did I insinuate just now that “all night” means “midnight”? Not the same, not at all. But it was fun. I spent the last hour Facebook messaging on my iPod, which was fun except for the slow internet and the many miscommunications because of it. The adults at the party sang a lot of bad karaoke and us kids watched and laughed and ate tacos. Not fish tacos, though, because… well… gross.

Guess what, blog readers? I memorized my library number. This is a very exciting day. Oh, and I also changed my Yahoo! Mail color scheme to purple. This day = exciting. Except for that pit in my stomach that knocks me out every time I remember that I have to wake up at 6am tomorrow and go to school. It’s not that I’m not excited to see my friends again, I am, really, I just don’t want to settle back into that same, annoying habit of homework and tests and projects and teachers I want to flick a rubber band at and… bleh. But then I started to think that maybe, just maybe, it’ll be better. Christmas break was good, and maybe it was the refresher I needed, and I can start new habits. You know?

Hey guys, would you like to do me a favor? I really hate to ask, but I am friends with a really talented YouTuber, Steve, and he’s wonderful. One of his resolutions this year is to hopefully get some more subscribers on his channel, and I think that’s really kinda cute. So, I’m going to ask anybody who’s looking for a quirky, new nerd to watch to check out his fizzylimon channel. You don’t have to subscribe if you don’t want to, but maybe if you like him, you can?

Sorry for mentioning it on my blog, I know not everyone who reads this is into YouTube. I’m probably going to mention him in my next passionateforwords video, which will be this week sometime, but I wanted to kinda get his name out here right now. I don’t want to do it on my sexymacaroni video, because that just seems wrong, you know? That is my time to talk to those guys, and it seems like such a sacred time, and I want to give all of my attention to them. Coz I love them.

And like every night when I write this, I feel so much better about things like school tomorrow and the toe ache I was feeling earlier and all of that jazz. So I bid you adieu. Later, people of awesome! <3

PS. Oh! And if you do end up subscribing, maybe leave some variation of, "passionateforwords, that sexy mongrel, sent me!"? Totally kidding about the sexy mongel part, though.

resolutions and such.

So, you may have noticed, if you are so inclined to be observant of the things I do and do not post, that I didn’t post any kind of “last day before the new year, gotta reflect and tell you guys what I’m gonna do differently” kind of blog, and I’ll tell you why. I’ve never really been a big fan of the whole New Year’s resolution thingy. I was talking about this with Nora the other day, and homesliz, I’m sorry that you’re going to have to hear it twice. Here is an amusing link to hold your attention for the next few minutes.

The thing is, I’ve always been the type of person that kind of just does things. If I want to become a better person and start complimenting people more, I’m not going to wait until the New Year. I’m just going to do it. If I want to lose three pounds and stop eating corndogs, I’m going to stop eating corndogs. So what if it’s December 28th? I’m going to start doing it. Right now. I guess I’m just more of a man of action. I mean, err, a woman of action. Not a word I would have otherwise used to describe myself, but oh well. Roll with the flow, as I always say. (Fact. I never say this.)

And it’s not that I think that making a New Year’s resolution is a bad thing, or dumb, or smelly, or produces any kind of informal funk whatsoever! It’s just not for me. I definitely see the good in it. Not everyone is as “screw the interlocking bonds of time” as I am. Some people see the new year as a fresh canvas, a clean slate. A time to really start over and leave all of that other stuff behind. Me, I do this with a shocking haircut or a bellybutton ring, but that’s just the inter-workings of a loon. And some people make resolutions that are definitely time-bound. Not just things that you want to change for yourself. For example, in 2008, Kristina Horner of the fiveawesomegirls wanted to read 50 books in a year. That’s definitely something she had to wait to do. But if it were me, I would just… read more. But like I said, I’m weird and kooky, idiotic and absurd. (I’ve been reading the thesaurus I got for Christmas… have you noticed?!)

So, I guess, my question to you is as follows. New Years resolutions? Have ‘em? Want ‘em? Don’t give a flying papoopey? (That one wasn’t in my thesaurus. Hehehe.)

PS. I kind of love doing entries like this, you know, where I talk about one thing and not a collection of random and shockingly strange things. I know, I know, just two or three days ago I was talking about how much I loved the collection of random paragraphs, and that’s still true. I love them both. Can’t I love them both?!
PPS. Woah. I just had a horrifying thought. What if someone in the comments tells me that my New Years resolution should be to stop acting so crazy and throw out my thesaurus?! For the record, I don’t use it as I’m writing my blog, the words are just in my head from all of the word-consuming I’ve been doing. Yum, words.
PPPS. Yes, I do realize that all of these post-scripts have been kind of cheats to the whole “one topic” thing. I hate you. (But not really!)
PPPPS. Oh, and I dunno if this is at all relevant, but I wrote this at 4:13am on December 31st. Insomniac Post or what? xD

boogermonsters of doom.

I just sneezed and the boogermonsters got all over my glasses. Oh, how lovely. Not like whole ones, just slobbery ones. Oh man, I hope nobody just ate before reading this. I am not trying to make you lose your lunch, readers, I promise.

I had to put a really addictive book down to write this. I mean, it’s not like it’s a chore, I’m excited to write this. I just kind of hate when you’re getting really into a book and you get drawn away. In class, when the teacher starts talking and gives you that warning, the cocked eyebrow and the head jerk. At dinner, when you have to stop reading and do KP- kitchen patrol, as we call it in my house. Or when you’re laying in bed on that lovely Saturday morning and you get called downstairs to do some chores. Suckfests, no argument.

I like asking, “what flavor?” instead of “what color?” or “what kind?”. It definitely spices up a conversation. Ha ha ha, pun totally intended. Get it, “spices”?! Oh man, I am so funny. (Not.) Are there any phrases that you guys like to use, even if it confuses other people or makes them look at you like you have six heads or perhaps a fragrant fungus on your nose?

Oh shiz! Do you guys ever come home from an event or an outing of some kind, hang up or throw your bag/purse/thing on your bed or doorknob or whatever and forget your phone in there for hours? I always do that, especially when I come from from school. And then two hours later, I realize that my phone is in there and what if someone called? Or texted? What if there is an emergency? And I guess it’s kind of funny, because even though those questions I just asked, especially the latter, would make you think that I would rush over to get my phone, but this scenario is indeed happening right now and I am explaining all of this to you at a very leisurely pace. I’ll go get that now. What do you know? Beef called. For the sixth time today. Without leaving a message.

That’s another thing. I kind of hate it when people call continually and don’t leave a message. I mean, if you didn’t leave a message, I’m going to assume that it’s not important and not call you back. And that would be good and dandy, except this person keeps calling, over and over again, and will not leave a message. The first two times, I was sleeping and then showering and so I missed her calls. After that, I wanted to see how long it would take for her to give up and leave a message. It has not happened. *headdesk*

I think I actually managed to forget how amazing this crazy internet world is. I mean, I made a video and a blog the other day, and all day yesterday I kept getting comments and messages, and all of that neat stuff. And it just makes me grin and grin and be all goofy with high socks and dance moves.

For Christmas this evening, my uncle and his girlfriend got me Snow Leopard, the new operating system for Macs. I am so freakin’ excited to download it. So, I do think I shall do that right now, and read my book while it’s installing. Oh, the wonders of Christmas break. I hope you never ever end.

PS. I think I’m going to keep the snow until all of the snow leaves the ground where I live. Which can take as late as May, unfortunately. Or until wordpress takes it off. Whatever comes first, really. xD

a lopsided collection of thoughts.

Hi. *blushes and hides* I know, I know. I haven’t blogged in a long, long, interminable time. And that sucks, really. But I do have a good reason, I swear. I just… ugh, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a long story and it’s weird and nutty as a fruitcake, and so I won’t. I’ll just apologize and reassure you that I’m here for good now, and move onto the bananas. (Bananas being a synonym for “insane” or “loco”, not the fruit. I don’t really like bananas, actually!)

So, sometimes I just sit at desk with my bulky headphones on my head, singing The Mudbloods pretty loud and playing with scissors. I’ve never cut myself, they’re the safety ones with the rounded tip, but sometimes I’ll stop singing, look around to make sure the boogeyman isn’t watching me (he takes up residence under my bed a few times a week) and notice that one of my fingers is in between two blades. Yikes. Does that make me a weirdo? Or, er, weirder than normal? ;]

I’m absolutely addicted to GoodReads. It’s basically this website where you can rate and categorize books that you’ve read, are currently reading, or want to read. I spent a totally of about three hours on it last night rating and adding all of the books from my bookshelf at my dad’s house and looking through lists to try and get some/a lot of the ones at my mom’s house. I can’t wait until my books aren’t packed away into boxes for moving time so I can add all of those. It’s so fun. I’ll link my profile here and if any of you guys have accounts, we can be friends! And then I can add to my scarily large “to-read” list.

I’m sitting at my desk right now, quite obviously, and I’m wearing this big, blue sweater/cardigan thing that my mom got me for Christmas. It’s so warm and cozy, and it has these little pockets. Leaping lizards, I love sweaters. Almost as much as I love socks. Which I got six pairs of for Christmas. Tomorrow, I am going to wear the favorite of the bunch and show them off in my sexymacaroni video. Because even though probably nobody else will care, waggling my feet around on video will make me sniggle. *cheesy grin*

I love when my dad isn’t home. That sounds bad, I know, but I just love being able to sing as loud as I want to. I’ll write a few sentences, and sometimes even mid-sentence, I’ll stop to sing aloud a particularly amazing part, leaning forward and grinning towards an imaginary camera. And I’ll realize how dorky I must look, and I’ll laugh and sing louder, and then it’ll kind of piddle out as I start writing again. And the glorious cycle will restart. Over and over.

My favorite part of blogging is just the collection of random tidbits that I can talk about in small, chunky paragraphs and stick together in a buggy, certifiable, lopsided collection of random thoughts. And then I can pass it off to amuse others. (Hopefully. ) And myself, because really, that’s the number one most important thing. I want to talk about things that make me happy, because really? I blog for myself. And that sounds bad, but I really don’t mean it to. When I started blogging, that ten or so months ago, I didn’t have anyone reading. I just did it because it was fun. And that’s really why I still do it.

Although don’t get me wrong, the comments and readers and happy giddy feeling of sharing thoughts and souls is really neat too. ;D

if you write wink too many times…

I am so very busy this evening, three tests tomorrow, head shaving an hour ago, and I still want to lay down and read a bit at some point, I can barely sit still. But I’m sitting here in the company of The Mudbloods to write to you folks, because, well… I’m dedicated to this craft of insanity. And it’s so fun. Actually, I wanted to talk about that. Someone asked me a few days ago how blogging could possibly be fun. They were like, “so you have to sit down and crank out like 600 words every other day? It’s like homework…” Uh, no, it’s not. It’s not a chore. I don’t think it is, at least. Maybe I’m naturally good at it (I meant good at the discipline of it, not the actual writing, because, uh, *snort obnoxiously*) or whatever, but it’s just fun. Sitting down with music blasting and sharing the quirky things that make up my life… fun. I love it. It’s like completing a project every day I do it. It makes me feel worthwhile.

So, I know it makes me sound crazy, but macaroni and cheese always tastes better in shapes. Spongebob, Pokémon, Scooby Doo, you name it. Always tastes better. Don’t deny, yo.

Another grueling day at school is tomorrow. Bright and early. Blech. I’m in a bit of a school rut at the moment, to be honest. I can’t think of one class that I’m excited about. Yeah, I’m doing well, but it’s kind of at that point in the year where I’m just not excited anymore. And I don’t really have classes with any of my close friends. Actually, scratch that. I have one class with two of my close friends. And the subject matter and teacher are the worst, so those things just cancel each other out to make a bland, boring class like all of the rest of them. I’m just bored. There isn’t anything to really do in my classes except write notes and read and tap my fingers on the desk. I want to talk. I want to laugh and smile and make secret, amused glances across the room to that goofy friend. Last year, I had that in almost every class. Now I barely have it now. Blech!

To move on from that horrid blech-ness, I would like to inform all of you that I have finished Scrubs Season 8 and I now moved back to watching Friends. I’m on the third season, and it’s around all of those awkward episodes after the breakup of Rachel and Ross and… I’m just so excited for Season 4. I freakin’ love Friends. Proper noun and not. (*insert gooey friendship feeling here to all of y’all*) Wtf? I am not southern. At least I do not think. What the hell was that? I really don’t understand.

I love winking. I winked yesterday in my sexymacaroni video, and again today at my friend. Not sexually, at them or anything, I was just making a sexual joke. My friend suggested that I wink at the guy I like, randomly. Guys, would you find it sexy if some random girl turned around in the middle of math class and winked at you? Perhaps added a sexalicious whispering of, “hey, boi”? No? Yeah. I’ve found that sexual jokes are often spiced up with a sultry look. And it really goes along with my lifelong quest for irony, as I am completely not the person who you’d expect to wink seductively. Or am I?

G’damn winking.