Hello Internet.
My laptop is out of commission at the moment. I get to write blogs on my desktop for a while. Which makes me sort of feel like I'm cheating on my laptop. My laptop has speakers that work, and everything bookmarked so that I can get to what I want when I want it. My desktop is the "I need to check something right now" computer for me. I don't write on this thing since I got my laptop. I'm rambling...I digress.
School is kicking my butt this week. I'm all out of witty commentary and adorable sarcasm, so I'm not even going to try to make this into more than it is, which is just an update.
Wah wah wah. I'm gonna finish my frozen pizza now. Yummeh!
January 20, 2011
January 13, 2011
Murphy's Law makes me want to punch something.
When it rains, it pours.
If you wake up and it's way too hot, you will inevitably also have gut-wrenching cramps that make you turn into a raging dragon woman.
If you need to take a shower, there will be no hot water left, and as you try to shampoo your hair, you will do the "Ice Water Dance", in which you dodge around the shower as nimbly as possible without falling to a slippery death, and pray to God that that frigid water will STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM YOU until you're good and ready to hear your own teeth chatter.
If you survive the shower, your hair will tangle and frizz until you are more focused on trying to make the bedhead look work than actually trying to look like a put-together human being.
When your hair gets as close to cooperating as possible without just saying, "Fuck it," grabbing the clippers, and shaving it all off, you will then find that you have nothing to wear in your closet that doesn't make you look like a beached whale escaped from Sea World.
And when you finally look into the mirror at the result of this catastrophe of a morning....
...you realize you don't have to be awake for another 2 hours....
P.S. And then you realize that your zodiac sign of nearly 20 years is now changed....except in comparison with the rest of the day, it's pretty much a non-issue....
If you wake up and it's way too hot, you will inevitably also have gut-wrenching cramps that make you turn into a raging dragon woman.
If you need to take a shower, there will be no hot water left, and as you try to shampoo your hair, you will do the "Ice Water Dance", in which you dodge around the shower as nimbly as possible without falling to a slippery death, and pray to God that that frigid water will STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM YOU until you're good and ready to hear your own teeth chatter.
If you survive the shower, your hair will tangle and frizz until you are more focused on trying to make the bedhead look work than actually trying to look like a put-together human being.
When your hair gets as close to cooperating as possible without just saying, "Fuck it," grabbing the clippers, and shaving it all off, you will then find that you have nothing to wear in your closet that doesn't make you look like a beached whale escaped from Sea World.
And when you finally look into the mirror at the result of this catastrophe of a morning....
...you realize you don't have to be awake for another 2 hours....
P.S. And then you realize that your zodiac sign of nearly 20 years is now changed....except in comparison with the rest of the day, it's pretty much a non-issue....
January 9, 2011
Snow was way more exciting when I was little.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not hating on snow.
In fact, snow is pretty cool as long as I don't have to drive in it.
But when I was little, snow was FUCKING AWESOME.
Snow days always began the same way. I would wake up at some unholy hour for school (back when I still thought getting up at 6 AM made me a total badass), and I'd stare out the window. Most days, there was absolutely nothing exciting going on outside. At this point, I would sulk around the house in a pitiful slump all morning, dragging my feet and getting dressed as slowly as possible, just in case some fleeting flakes would come down. In theory, this was probably a really dumb idea, because any snow that would've come at that point would be nowhere near enough to make any sort of impact on my ability to go to school that day....but I digress.
But on the mornings when I could see snow on the ground, it was on. Once the news confirmed that there would be no school on that day (and there never was, because this is Texas after all), I became a snow-crazed, attention deficit, hyperactive force of God made for nothing more than tearing into that snow like my entire existence was dependent on it.
But before I could barrage my way through the front door like Indiana Jones looking for the Crystal Skull, I had to endure the massive wardrobe session that came with being five years old and determined to trek through mountains of freezing cold slush for hours on end.
By the time I was decked out in layers upon layers of sweaters, jackets, sweatpants, boots, mittens, and any other various winter items I could find in my closet, I was hardly mobile. I should probably point out that I was insistent on dressing myself for these winter wonderland extravaganzas. The result was something akin to what I imagine my closet exploding would look like. But I was warm, and since I was five, my mother likely assumed it couldn't hurt anything to let me go out looking something like Rainbow Brite on crack.
When I would finally bust through the front door into the glorious, magnificent snow that I'd waited so long for, there was no stopping me. I made snow angels, snowmen, snowballs, snow forts -- if it could be fashioned from snow and required less than 3 minutes of my attention, I would create it. Every few minutes, my mother would peek out to check on us and make sure that in my hell bent attempts to conquer snow, I wasn't managing to get myself or my sister hurt. This was fine with me, because I had no intentions of hurting anyone. My only goal in life was to make that snow my bitch for as long as I could endure the cold wind whipping in my face and the melting snow seeping into my pant legs.
Inevitably, the constant sprinting across the yard tethered down by what was probably half my weight in clothing would tire me out. My sister and I would make one last attempt at snow angels before shaking the snow from our hair, pants, and sweaters.
The rest of the day would be consumed by hot chocolate, cartoons, and sleep. I wouldn't be able to feel my feet for the rest of the day. But those moments in the snow were so worth it. The front yard became a snow castle. And I was the snow queen.
UPDATE: Major kudos to my dad for hunting down this picture:
It gets (slightly) bigger if you click it. That's my sister on the left, me on the right. No, I'm not five in this picture. But you get the idea.
Champion wardrobe, self. Truly.
I'm not hating on snow.
In fact, snow is pretty cool as long as I don't have to drive in it.
But when I was little, snow was FUCKING AWESOME.
Snow days always began the same way. I would wake up at some unholy hour for school (back when I still thought getting up at 6 AM made me a total badass), and I'd stare out the window. Most days, there was absolutely nothing exciting going on outside. At this point, I would sulk around the house in a pitiful slump all morning, dragging my feet and getting dressed as slowly as possible, just in case some fleeting flakes would come down. In theory, this was probably a really dumb idea, because any snow that would've come at that point would be nowhere near enough to make any sort of impact on my ability to go to school that day....but I digress.
But on the mornings when I could see snow on the ground, it was on. Once the news confirmed that there would be no school on that day (and there never was, because this is Texas after all), I became a snow-crazed, attention deficit, hyperactive force of God made for nothing more than tearing into that snow like my entire existence was dependent on it.
But before I could barrage my way through the front door like Indiana Jones looking for the Crystal Skull, I had to endure the massive wardrobe session that came with being five years old and determined to trek through mountains of freezing cold slush for hours on end.
By the time I was decked out in layers upon layers of sweaters, jackets, sweatpants, boots, mittens, and any other various winter items I could find in my closet, I was hardly mobile. I should probably point out that I was insistent on dressing myself for these winter wonderland extravaganzas. The result was something akin to what I imagine my closet exploding would look like. But I was warm, and since I was five, my mother likely assumed it couldn't hurt anything to let me go out looking something like Rainbow Brite on crack.
When I would finally bust through the front door into the glorious, magnificent snow that I'd waited so long for, there was no stopping me. I made snow angels, snowmen, snowballs, snow forts -- if it could be fashioned from snow and required less than 3 minutes of my attention, I would create it. Every few minutes, my mother would peek out to check on us and make sure that in my hell bent attempts to conquer snow, I wasn't managing to get myself or my sister hurt. This was fine with me, because I had no intentions of hurting anyone. My only goal in life was to make that snow my bitch for as long as I could endure the cold wind whipping in my face and the melting snow seeping into my pant legs.
Inevitably, the constant sprinting across the yard tethered down by what was probably half my weight in clothing would tire me out. My sister and I would make one last attempt at snow angels before shaking the snow from our hair, pants, and sweaters.
The rest of the day would be consumed by hot chocolate, cartoons, and sleep. I wouldn't be able to feel my feet for the rest of the day. But those moments in the snow were so worth it. The front yard became a snow castle. And I was the snow queen.
UPDATE: Major kudos to my dad for hunting down this picture:
It gets (slightly) bigger if you click it. That's my sister on the left, me on the right. No, I'm not five in this picture. But you get the idea.
Champion wardrobe, self. Truly.
January 7, 2011
Everything Sucks.
I started a blog. And I'm in a bad mood.
I started a blog, while in a bad mood.
We all know what will come of this.
Everything sucks. The fact that I spent half my shift today staring off into space because I had literally nothing to do sucks.
Having my wallet stolen and therefore having to bum money off my mom every time I need cigarettes or gas sucks.
The fact that I am breaking out sucks.
The fact that I have not seen my boyfriend in two days, and my best friend in three, REALLY sucks.
Being the only person in this house that still smokes sucks.
Winter sucks. Just sucks, period, end of statement. Give me my 8 months of Texas summer back, stat.
My endless irritation with the general population of my suburban bubble sucks.
Degrassi sucks. Ok, not really. I sort of like Degrassi. But right now, this dumb bitch sending her boyfriend naked pictures is about to get royally fucked over, and we all know it. So Degrassi, you suck for writing such a stupid moronic idiot of a character. Oh, but this is Degrassi. They go there (which I'm pretty sure hasn't been their slogan since I was in high school).
Insomnia sucks.
My room being too hot right now sucks.
The fact that I am always FUCKING HUNGRY these days sucks.
BUT.
You know what doesn't suck? My family. They've been chilling in the living room, playing Wii and eating dinner and being awesome all night.
And there's the silver lining.
I started a blog, while in a bad mood.
We all know what will come of this.
Everything sucks. The fact that I spent half my shift today staring off into space because I had literally nothing to do sucks.
Having my wallet stolen and therefore having to bum money off my mom every time I need cigarettes or gas sucks.
The fact that I am breaking out sucks.
The fact that I have not seen my boyfriend in two days, and my best friend in three, REALLY sucks.
Being the only person in this house that still smokes sucks.
Winter sucks. Just sucks, period, end of statement. Give me my 8 months of Texas summer back, stat.
My endless irritation with the general population of my suburban bubble sucks.
Degrassi sucks. Ok, not really. I sort of like Degrassi. But right now, this dumb bitch sending her boyfriend naked pictures is about to get royally fucked over, and we all know it. So Degrassi, you suck for writing such a stupid moronic idiot of a character. Oh, but this is Degrassi. They go there (which I'm pretty sure hasn't been their slogan since I was in high school).
Insomnia sucks.
My room being too hot right now sucks.
The fact that I am always FUCKING HUNGRY these days sucks.
BUT.
You know what doesn't suck? My family. They've been chilling in the living room, playing Wii and eating dinner and being awesome all night.
And there's the silver lining.
New blog (yes, I can hear you all groaning.)
Yes, I started a new blog.
No, I don't know why.
JUST LET ME ENJOY THE DELUSION THAT SOMEONE ACTUALLY CARES.
This is probably going to turn into a huge festival of complaining and cynicism.
No, I don't know why.
JUST LET ME ENJOY THE DELUSION THAT SOMEONE ACTUALLY CARES.
This is probably going to turn into a huge festival of complaining and cynicism.
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