Ode to Summer

August 23, 2010 § Leave a comment

It is now my last night at home before I head back to school in the morning.  And even though school does not start until the first of September, I will be busy every waking moment until then, and therefore this is my last night of summer.  This makes my face frown….

Goodbye Summer.  I will miss you dearly.  You have been such a great friend to me these past few months, but unfortunately the time has come to part ways.  No, Summer.  Please don’t cry.  You’re just going away for a little bit is all.

We both knew this day was coming, although we tried to pretend that it would never get here, and we drained every last bit from each other, but sadly, it is over.  You will be going away, but just for nine months.  That’s right, you’ll see me again soon.  And where you are going, it will be warm, while I will be freezing and missing you, counting the days until I see you once more.

But when I feel like I cannot bear it anymore, I will think of the times we’ve shared these past few months.  The long nights you gave me, and the warmth you brought me.  I will look in the mirror at my tan lines and think of you.  And even after they fade, your memory will not be lost.  Pictures from parties and vacations we attended will fill my room.  This way, I will never be able to forget you.

Do not worry about Fall, Winter, and Spring.  I know I will be spending a lot of time with them, but I promise you, they mean nothing to me.  Yes, they will try to make me happy with their breezes of coolness.  They might even take me to beautifully snow covered locations.  And flowers will definitely be used to buy my affection.  All will fail with certainty, for you are the only one for me.

I will wait for you.  Be strong dear friend.  xoxx

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An incredible edible post about nothing!

August 22, 2010 § 1 Comment

Okay, so I wouldn’t actually suggest eating this post, unless you’re a robot and computers are like a delicacy.  Then, by all means, knock your socks off… or you know, your bolts.

I literally laughed at this guy for ten minutes straight.

I have been trying to get some thoughts together for the past couple of days to write an actual blog, but the reality is that my life is insanely boring and mundane currently since it’s the summer and I live on my computer.  Honestly, my past couple of days have gone as such:

Wake up

Check blackberry for messages

Go to the bathroom and tinkle

Look at self in the mirror sideways to see if I am any skinnier (I have lost 15 pounds in fact!  It’s pretty exciting)

Go downstairs to eat breakfast

Watch Gilmore Girls (even though I’ve seen every episode a million times)

Wander upstairs and  turn Toshibie on

Lie on belly on bed for the rest of the day reading blogs, Facebook stalking, playing Solitaire

Eat dinner

More computer

Sleep

Amiss all that I have begun packing, since I am moving back to school on Tuesday.  That reminds me: I HATE PACKING!  I’m always paranoid that I will forget something monumentally important, but on top of it, I hate that it requires so much for me to live.  If I had it my way, I would take one bag with me no matter where I was going or for any duration of time.  That’s not the case though.  Last year I had my own room at school and it was a double so it was huge.  This year I have my own single and it’s tiny, so I am trying to only take what I absolutely need.  After packing and unpacking about four times, I still have a shit load of worthless crap.  I need it all.  It’s frustrating and sometimes I would like to light it all ablaze and watch with a bag of marshmallows.

Toshibie: I like to name inanimate objects in my life.  For instance, my car’s name is Gustav, because he’s a very masculine car, and I simply don’t ride girls.  My laptop’s name is Toshibie.  My father bought him for me for college, and got the largest one he could find – I still don’t understand that one – so he’s a beast.  Which implies that he’s a man.  But he’s a homosexual.  He tends to be very girly and does the dumbest things (this isn’t what I think of homosexual people BTW, just my thought process).  Plus, he’s a girl’s best friend.

Now, a letter to my laundry!

Dear Laundry,

I wish you would just do yourself.  You irritate me.  Like so much in my life, I hate that even though I wash you, I will have to wash you again in like a week – okay more like two because I have so much of you.  It seems like a colossal waste of my time in which I could be playing with Legos or playing more Solitaire on my computer.  You are keeping me from Solitaire! And it takes forever to finish you.  If you were a lover, I would have given up long ago.  And when I am at my father’s house, you are such an inconvenience because you are in the basement and I am in my room.  This means I have to travel a great distance to get to you.  And then, no matter how much I try, you always come out wrinkly in the end.  Do not even get me started on then putting you away.  I would like you to be more considerate to those around you.

Please remember that I do love you oh so much because you are my clothes, and I love clothes, and I will bring home more friends for you soon.  Until then, stop being a pain in the ass.

Love, Me

Reasons why my computer thinks I’m a complete loser:

1.  I play Solitaire like it’s my job.  I will play for hours on end and not even realize.

1.b  Not to mention there are so many times when there is a move that is right in front of my face and I become frustrated that I don’t have a move and then Toshibie points it out to me in such a gloating way.  He’s all “Stupid biatch, the seven can go on the eight and you can win,” said in his flamboyant robotic voice.

2.  I have a million spreadsheets.  They are almost as addictive as Solitaire.  So I now look like an uber nerd.

3.  I can never find anything I save.  I’m all “I will save this as a clever specific name so it will be super easy to find when I need it at a moments notice!”  Then, I go to find it and it’s hiding.  I get upset and swear.

4.  I spend entirely too much time on my computer.  Therefore, I have no life and he mocks me.

5.  My guys friends have this lovely habit of coming over and pulling up pornography.  So now I look like a lesbian also.  Great, just peachy (no pun intended).

6.  I have an unhealthy quantity of Miley Cyrus music on my iTunes.

7.  I only have five friends on AIM.  In my defense, I used to have over 200, but because I’m in college, and like no one uses it anymore, I only use it to talk to a handful of people.  Toshibie doesn’t know this though.  He thinks I have no friends.

I think that’s all I have for now.  I promise that more will follow once I get back to school.  But now I must go see friends.

SEE TOSHIBIE!  I HAVE FRIENDS!

My secret love affair

August 20, 2010 § 1 Comment

ATTENTION WORLD (or in other words, all 1.5 readers of my blog which no one in my actual life knows I have because of posts such as this):

My addiction to Miley Cyrus music is becoming increasingly alarming for someone of my age.  I literally downloaded nothing but Miley Cyrus music the other day.  I then synced my new music to my iPod so I can take Miley on the road with me.  It’s actually quite exciting being in my car with the windows up, blaring Party in the USA and dancing while the people in cars around me have no idea that I am, in fact, a complete loser.  I also listened to her on the beach last week while sun bathing.  My friend was oblivious to the hilarity which could have occurred had anyone looked at my playlist.

My obsession has even taken a horrifying turn when I actually DVR’ed Hannah Montana.  Yes, I am 21 and I was worried that I would miss the new episode while I was having a movie night with my mother.  She was supposed to go to bed after the movie was over, and I would then be able to go to “My Recordings” and watch in shame in the dark of night.  I don’t like “Hannah’s music” and the show is admittedly pretty horrible and juvenile, but it’s a guilty pleasure, and no one was supposed to find out.  Mother, however, did not go to bed.  Mother insisted on staying in large comfy chair and snore.  I thought that this would be okay; I could just turn the volume down low which would keep her asleep longer.  It was only a thirty minute program, then I could delete the recording and no one would be any the wiser.  Then mother woke up.  Imagine awaking at midnight to witness your 21-year-old daughter curled up in a blanket, sitting on the floor in front of the television, hypnotized by Hannah Montana.  She cleared her throat and I froze, turning slowly to face my humiliation face-to-face.  Nothing is more unsettling than being judged by your mother’s disapproving laughter.

And yes, before you ask, I did go out and purchase her new movie The Last Song.  However, this was actually a rather kick-ass movie, as far as chick flicks and films-that-will-have-you-uncontrollably-sobbing-in-the-theater-with-your-best-friend go.  I bought it the day it came out.  I set a reminder on my phone calendar and everything, because I am that obsessed.

So there you have it world (or 1.5 readers), I am a closet Miley Cyrus fan.  Let the judging begin….. now.

As a side note:  I love my 1.5 readers!!!  You make my day when you leave comments and when I can watch my little statistical graph raise by your views.  However, to the reader that is only half of a person, I am sorry you only have one arm, one leg, one eye, and one ear (this is what I picture you look like).  It must make reading my randomness so very difficult, and you should know I love you the most, because you have dedication!!!

A girl in a man’s world

August 16, 2010 § 2 Comments

I swear to God that I am not a feminist, in fact, I love men in general, but they irritate the ever living snot out of me at times.  This whole misogynistic attitude they carry around putting down anything feminine they deem unacceptable.  That’s what they do.  Now before you jump down my back, and say “Nah-uh, you crazy white girl!” think about it.  When there is a new female fad out that they don’t like, they make it known, and mock us for it.  Case and example: Twilight.  OH MY GOD, if I hear one more guy bitch about how “All you women are getting entirely too caught up in this whole thing.  It’s an unrealistic expectation of what a guy is, and you aren’t going to find that,” I might hit myself in the head with a frying pan.

A friend showed me a blog posting of this guy she knows, and it infuriated me.  Click here to be infuriated.  (Pardon the use of the c-word everywhere.)  He goes on a rampage about how he thinks women have unrealistic expectations of how men are going to act in a relationship – “bringing roses and diamonds and all that cliche shit” – and that’s why guys can’t find anyone decent.  *Laugh out Loud*  NEWS FLASH ASSHOLE: it’s not as if men are incapable of doing said things for women, and it’s not as if you don’t know that’s what we want (not so much the materialism of the item as much as the gesture of the act itself) because you do.  That’s the thing I don’t understand, the media lays out exactly what to do!!!! So many guys are getting upset that their girlfriends are “in love with Edward Cullen”.  Granted, I would be upset if my partner left me for a fictional character, but if they are simply admiring how he treats Bella in the books, and wishing that you would step up your game a bit more than blowing your belch away from her when you’re sitting in your tightie whities on the couch playing madden on a Friday night which just so happens to be Valentine’s Day as well as your anniversary and her birthday, then I think it’s completely justified.  Now I could go on for hours about how much of an egotistical prick this guy really is, but I will let it be at that.

It’s so frustrating being a woman in a man’s world though, I should know.  My brothers did it to me growing up.  It was all “Blah, blah blah, that’s a stupid girl show and we’re not going to stand for it being on in the house so you better brush up on your Ninja Turtles cause that’s what we want to watch so get used to it”.  Don’t get me wrong, Ninja Turtles was the shit, but I would have enjoyed to not have had to hide in a corner in order to watch the Olsen Twins when they left for guys stuff outside, or have been mocked because I wanted to play with Barbies.  I honestly wasn’t allowed to be a girl growing up.  Around my mother, yeah, but most of the time, it was simply unacceptable.  Then it just became easier to completely disregard all my feminine ways in order to impress my brothers/father.  They seemed to like me better that way.  Plus, I thought it was what guys wanted.  A girl who was “one of the guys”.  Yeah, no.  I forced myself into hating the color pink, chick flicks, pop music, makeup, etc.  Instead I insisted that I loved action movies, and hard rock and blue.  Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy all those things, and blue is definitely my signature color, but I missed so much of the girl life I was supposed to get as a kid.

Now, I go to an all girls college where not being a girl is simply not okay.  It’s not so much that the girls are all lip gloss and stilettos, but they want to watch chick flicks, and I learned real quick, that mocking chick flicks, in a room full of girls, at an all girls school, was so not going to fly.  Over the last two years, I realize how much I do enjoy these things though, and I am starting to admit it to the world outside of school life.  Which is why I expect more from the men I am with.  They don’t have to be fairy tale princes or anything, but I would settle for a tangible gentleman.

I’m ALIVE!

August 16, 2010 § 3 Comments

So I realize that I sort of dropped off the face of the planet there for a few days.  And even the posts that I did put up were really nothing great, just random thoughts that came to mind.  I promise, I am still alive though.

Last week I spent three days at the beach with a friend from school and her family.  By family, I mean every person in their bloodline (basically).  I have never seen anything like it.  To my complete surprise when I arrived Tuesday afternoon Sarah said “Oh, the family is coming over for dinner.”  I must have looked perplexed wondering how that was possible since I had met her entire immediate family only weeks prior, so she added, “My extended family is down here this week too.  We all rent within a ten block radius of each other and hang out the whole week”.  To anyone else, this would have been completely normal, but to me, it was so foreign.

They began to show up around 6pm, and at first I was only expecting maybe ten people tops, considering it was a three bedroom, one level condo.  Within a half an hour there were at least thirty people crowding in waiting for dinner to be served.  They were all incredibly nice and welcoming to myself and her brother’s best friend Larry (being the only two people not related), but it was none-the-less overwhelming.  This is when I realized a few things about myself.  1)  I am not good with kids.  Babies, yes.  But children, no.  I never really understood that either.  It’s not that I don’t try, because I definitely do, copying what I see my friends/brothers do with kids that they seem to enjoy, but it always comes off fake and kids can tell.  They just don’t want to be around me.  From the time their born until about three years old, they’re cool, then until their in about middle school, we just don’t click.  Once their about ten/eleven, we do fine again though.  It’s weird.  2)  My family is not really family-ish.  I can never explain this to people, its more something that you just have to see.  3)  I am extremely uncomfortable in large crowds, and it’s made worse around people I do not know.  I’m even uncomfortable around my own extended family because I haven’t been close to them growing up.  4)  I’m all too aware that people will judge me.  I never act myself in situations such as these.  I put on an act, and become shy and quiet.  It’s weird.  (More on all of this later)

So anyways, I left there Thursday afternoon to head home, when I was struck down by the worst menstrual cramps known to mankind.  I cried the entire three hours it took me to get home, gripping the steering wheel to keep from driving into on-coming traffic.  I actually considered at one point that the devil must have placed his anti-Christ child in me while I was asleep the night before and it was not attempting to birth itself Alien-style (straight through my stomach).  When I arrived home, I immediately overdosed on pain killers and Pepsi, grabbed my heating pad from the drawer, and crawled into bed to wait out the pain.  I spent the remainder of the day reading every post on this site, which if you have yet to check out, you are seriously deprived.  Anyways, the pain finally subsided a few hours later, and I went to bed that night feeling fine.

The next morning I woke up with a sore throat.  I thought maybe it would go away with some cough drops, until that afternoon when the body aches kicked in.  I knew I was now very sick.  Here’s the thing about me and sickness.  I can never just get a cough or a cold that I am still functional with.  When I get something, I get it all, and I’m down for the count for days.  Not to mention, I am the biggest baby alive when it comes to being sick.  I always cry and think I’m dying.  So I have been in bed since Thursday now, unable to stomach more than bagels, downing the world’s supply of Halls cough drops, and on a six hourly regimen on NyQuil.  I haven’t had a fever yet today, and I am feeling much better than I have in days, so let’s just keep those fingers crossed that this is me taking a turn for the better!

Unexpected Message

August 12, 2010 § 1 Comment

Why do some men have to be so unbelievably creepy?  And why on Earth must they all find me?  Do I have some sort of loser rapist magnetic field in my system which pulls them to me?  It’s ridiculous.

Here I am, minding my own business, enjoying cramp-free-ness for the first time all day when I get a Facebook message.  My initial instinct is “Huzzah!  Somebody loves me!”  When I open it however it’s not one of my friends.  No, it’s my sixth grade homeroom teacher who made a pass on me in seventh grade when he took me into his room and “hugged me inappropriately” with the doors locked after school hours because he thought I was upset about something.  Yeah, that one.  This is his message:

I discovered an envelope today in which I found a school picture of you. On the back was written:

To my favorite middle school teacher!!
🙂 🙂

Anyway, it made me smile and think about you. I hope all is going well with you.
God bless.

Okay, a few things.  I was in sixth grade at the time I gave him that.  What the hell did I know?  Besides, it was just something you did.  You were supposed to give your teacher your picture and then they’re supposed to go and throw them all away at the end of the year (or later that day).  Also, WTF is a grown man doing holding onto my picture that long?!

This immediately made me put down my Frosted Cheerios which I was enjoying oh so much since I haven’t been up to eating all day.  Now I want to vomit… and shower again, even though I just took one an hour ago.

tick… tick… tick…

August 11, 2010 § Leave a comment

The problem with being a woman is that no matter how much you know you snould’nt have kids when you’re 21, still in college, not in a serious relationship, etc, when you hit a certain age your body starts to want one. So many or my friends have them and a when I’m around them I want them. When I go through a target and pass the baby stuff I turn to moosh.

My friends from school all think I’m crazy for wanting kids at “such a young age”. One friend actually told me you should consider even getting married until your thirty. THIRTY! My parents had my brothers and I when they were in their early twenties and were able to keep up with us as kids. Honestly I think that if more people had their kids young when they could run around with then still, there would be less children on add medication.

I want to have my kids before I hit thirty which worries me since I am still in school with no hope of having a boyfriend until after graduation. But I’ve still got hope. As long as my biological clock doesn’t tick out of control.

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