Why did I say fuck so much?
Hello, there blogosphere. I know we’re not really friends, more like acquantances. We were just getting into the swing of things an then I screwed things up. I know you were probably dissapointed that I gave up so easily but, I’m willing to give another half-assed try, if you’re willing to let me back into your life.
I have a puppy now. I had a couple of FML moments. I still listen to the same music as my Mom. Not much has changed, really.
Marley & Me and ME
So, I just finished watching Marley and Me. And it was really fucking sad. Mainly because that dog reminded me so much of my ‘ole poochie, and I want another one so badly :(. I think anyone who has/had a dog can relate to that movie. Fo’ Shizz.
But anywhoot, I feel like no CONSTANTLY things are popping up and reminding me “Hey, guess what, you’re life sucks.” It doesn’t really suck right now, in the moment. But it sucks because I’m thinking about how much it’s going to suck soon which is making right now suck more than it should. Follow me?
In the movie, the guy was a reporter and he was restless and his wife stopped reporting because she wanted to stay home with the chillins’ and all that crap. And it just got me thinking.
The deal is, I want to be a journalist. So fucking bad. My Dad wants me to be a teacher, or a nurse. That isn’t happening. I say absolutely, one hundred percent no to the nurse, I’m not going to be responsible for saving anyone’s life or helping them when their guts are falling out of their body. A teacher? Only if it was at an inner city school, or something like that. If there’s not a little excitement then I don’t want to do it. But I would make the worlds worst teacher, I’m such a procrastinator and grading papers would be nearly impossible for me. Unless I absolutely LOVE, LOVE, LOVE what I have to do, I’m going to procrastinate as long as necessary. When you ask me if I’m done, I’m going to say yes, and then I’m going to stay up until three in the morning because I didn’t start my Bio project until quarter after midnight because I was too busy playing bubble shooter all day. That’s just how I roll. And, I know that if I’m a teacher, or an office worker or a sandwich maker or a clown or WHATEVER, I’ll be bored. I’ll hate it. I need the variable to change. And, I never realize how much I need change until after something has changed. That’s why I want to be a journalist. Because you get to go out, and talk to people. And, if you make it big, you don’t know if you’re going to be spending the next day in South Philly or South Baghdad, which I love.
Word.
Daily Double
Wowzers, I guess I really am going full steam ahead with this puppy, aren’t I? There are so many blogging ideas runnin’ wild and crazy in mah head right now that I’ve just got to spit some of ’em out like a pumpkin seed. Lovely visual, ain’t it?
Anywhoot, I come to you this fine evening with two extremely different blogging subjects that I wish I had enough energy to share with you, however I have chosen the most superior: snot.
Currently, there is some kind of virus or cold running rabid throughout my body. Thus, causing a lot of snot and gook to get clogged up in my nose, creating the constant need to blow my nose. Now, before I go any further, it should be known that I am generally I pretty disgusting person. The best part of vomiting is seeing what it looks like in the toilet (thinking that thought made me want some Stouffer’s Mac and Cheese, which is what all vomit tastes like anyway, right?). I understand that not all people, especially sixteen year old girls, share this love of observing bodily fliuds. I know this, and I usually refrain from sharing this passion with others. HOWEVER, it truly irks me that people are willing to vocalize their disgust when I- someone who is obviously suffering- am blowing my nose. Just put the facts that I like to look at throw-up and that after I blow my nose, nothing gives me more pleasure than to feel the warm snot inside of a tissue aside for a minute, and think about what the point I am attempting to get across (boy- this song was counter-productive), who is the more disgusting one- the person who is simply trying to bounce back from an illness… OR the person who visualises and fixates on the snot pouring out of another person’s nose whenever they hear someone blowing their nose?
This is what I think about all day.
I’m weird. I think it’s important you know this early on in our relationship, future reader. If you haven’t figured this out by reading my earlier posts/ possible future posts, you will certainly be confident that the statement is true by the end of this blog. Just giving you a heads up so you can prepare yourself.
So, I was sick yesterday, and I came back to school today feeling completely brain dead. Forced to cope with the people who take Volleyball way to seriously in gym, my mind began to wander. And, I noticed, that many times in gym volleyball, since everyone except for that one really arrogant person on every team (yeah, you know the one) sucks, the ball frequently ends up on the wrong court and then the other team has to toss it back over. However, a lot of times this happens to two teams at the same time, causing each court to be in possession of the opposite court’s ball (the balls in their court!), and instead of everyone keeping the ball that is in their court at that moment in time, you swap back so everyone has the same ball that they began with. Why? With most other games, I make a little sense out of this. Since this is public school, some of the balls can get to be in really bad shape, so there is a certain seniority that goes along with getting the good balls (get past all the dirtiness here and stay with me), however it’s kind of difficult to destroy a volleyball, so all of them are pretty much equal in appearance and performance. It’s just kind of weird. But THEN, that got me thinking about a Mitchell Davis video ( http://www.youtube.com/user/livelavalive ), where he mentions how it bothers him that large groups of white people cannot clap in sync. Another strange white person phenomenon for you to ponder. Speaking of white person phenomenons… stuff white people like.com is amazing. I suggest you check it out.
I had about a million and fifty nine thousand other things that I wanted to talk about… herumph, I’ve forgotten them all. In that case, I’m off to do some math homework, take a nap, and then I may return if I remember what I wanted to discuss with y’all.
Hugs not Drugs,
CTW
I’ll find a new way, baby
La… la la la, Ulysses.
This is sort of my last ditch attempt at being artsy. Not really last ditch, because I’m sure I’ll try and fail to do it here and then restart all over again. I just wanted to say last ditch because that makes it seem like I’m really into this and passionate about it and if this time things don’t work out my entire life will spiral into a deep, dark depression. That’s not what will happen, instead I will just switch to another blogging site and eat some cheesedoodles.
I had another blog, but I forgot the password (don’t judge), and it was on blogspot which I wasn’t loving too much. I like the layout of wordpress better, even if it confuses me a little bit. But that’s okay, I’m a fast learner.
Here’s the diddle dee doop down-low:
- I’m sixteen.
- My town is boring.
- My friends are amazing; other kids… not so much.
- I can’t wait to spend sometime away from my house (aka go to college), it doesn’t need to be far, in fact I know it won’t be, but it just needs to be a good fifteen minutes away. My mother and grandmother have this lovely habit of talking in circles and over explaining everything they do, and everything that I need to do, which is driving me up a wall at the moment. Fun.
- At this very moment in time, I’m a little bit boy crazy. Not a lot, and not at most other moments in time, but right now, yes. Next week I will probably be back to hanging out with my barely-straight guy friends.
- My favorite color is green.
- I want to be a journalist. But, I hate that it seems to be the hot, trendy career at the moment. This is extremely selfish… but I’m actually getting journalistic experience, I’ve immersed myself in it; and half of the people I’ve talked to about it don’t know what a nutgaf is. Just sayin’.
- I’ve got a passion for music. But, I have no actual musical talent, and I have no money to support my constant need for new music. I refuse to steal music off the internet, especially if it’s an indie band or something. If I’ve got the new Beyonce song stuck in my head I don’t feel guilty about it, but I feel bad if I limewire the music of a starving artist.
- I probably sound really ostentatious right now. I apologize.
- I’m really bad at organizing my thoughts with bullet points.
That is all for now.
Keep each other safe, and keep the faith. ❤
Welcome to the world of the not-so-interesting
Check it.
Blogging is an interesting phenomenon, when you think about it. In some ways, it’s like a soap opera, but in most ways it’s not. You get hooked into someone’s life. You check their updates, try to find out what the haps are. The thing is, a blogger has the chance to control what people learn about them; unlike a soap opera character. You dig?
I’m going to attempt to break out of the mold I’ve created for myself. See if I can attract a few people to read my soap opera. I can tell you right now that part of that is going to be awful grammar and monstrous catch phrases. Maybe you’ll like it, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll love it.
CheckTheWhether. 