Clever title, right? I'm full of hilariosity. Honestly, I don't know how I live with myself.
But today isn't going to be all sunshine and roses and me being hilarious and bringing humor into your lives like a humor-bringing thing.
No. Today I'm going to moan.
If you don't like moaning, the exit is, quite literally, the X at the right or left of your screen, depending on the brand of computer you have.
Ready? Are they gone?
....
Good. If they are gone, I don't love them nearly as much as I love you all. Honestly. I love you all much more than them. Muchos kisses mi smallus amigos. (And I say that I'm in Spanish 3. What a laugh and a half.)
So let me tell you my story.
I have this issue where I was all high and mighty and didn't like anyone 'like that' for I want to say four years, which coming from a teenage girl, is like saying I've been a virgin lesbian monk for 79 years and that I have a beard and a moustache and I live in a cave in the Himalayas.
....
Obviously none of that is true, besides the bit about me not liking anyone for four years. But that is what I'm trying to get at. I haven't liked anyone for four years, which is nuts. My friends liked guys and fell out of like with guys and I was like their proverbial rock in the storm. They clung to my apparent freakish non-normal self because I had a clear head. That is clearly a lie, but I apparently offered the best advice on relationships, which is hilarious and ironic because I've never been in one. A relationship that is. Saying that I was going out with a guy for fifteen minutes in the sixth grade doesn't count.
Anyfloozle, this year I met a guy. Shocking beginning to the tale, I know. Like I said, I'm not a lesbian monk. But I met a guy. And he is really, really cool. And I guess it is a good thing he doesn't know that I have a blog, because then he would find this and he would know it was about him. And he would get a big inflated head and that is the last thing that I would want to happen. It's already inflated enough. But that's one of the reasons I like him, odd as that may sound.
I met him talking at a marching band parade. The first conversation we ever had we talked about how me and my friend Elliese have penis envy and we want to have one for one day only for the sole purpose of writing our names in the snow. This, ladies and germs, is what me and my friends think about. But he was funny. And we got to talking more. And, the blossom of LUUUURRRVVVE began to grow.
But then, the pruning sheers of horrible comments appeared. He said that he was like my brother. And I was all 'Suuuurrrreee!' and I said it with that horrible fake smile that feels like it has been plastered onto your face.
Then the flirting started. And there was a lot of it. I knew he was flirting with a lot of other girls, but me being vair vair pathetico, I thought I was different. So I kind of told him that I liked him. And then things left the Valley of the Casually Okay and entered the Mountains of the Majestically Awkward. We didn't talk for about a week and a half. Which, for those of you who don't know, is about seven years in teenage girl time.
So I wrote him a note like the romance novel heroine that I am and now we're friends again. But he's trying not to flirt with people anymore. Which sucks because I love hugging people. (I love hugging people. I love hugs. I will literally hug anyone. I don't care if I haven't known you that long, I will hug you.) And in trying not to flirt with people he's moaning to me about it.
And now I'm moaning to you. It's like the big circle of MOAN.
Or a pyramid of moan, since you can't moan to him about me moaning about him. Or if you can, please don't!
....
Wait, I didn't tell you his name, and as far as I know, none of you know him, so I'm in the free and clear!
Woopdedoo and PANTS!
Okay, moaning/storytime over. I just used all of you like a diary. Keep these secrets I have told you until you are cold and in the grave. And like Andrew Marvill said, you can't date in the grave. Or, well, Marvill didn't say that. He implied it though. I had my English midterm today - can you tell?
I feel like I've wittered on enough, like a wittering thing meant to witter away. I'll let you get back to your lives. They are probably much more interesting than mine.
Parting joke:
Two chemists walk into a bar. The first guy says to the bartender "Hey, I'll have some H2O!" The second guy goes "That sounds good. I'll have some H2O2."
The second guy died.
Love and kisses,
Jen
Showing posts with label being awkward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being awkward. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Grammar Is Important
Grammar is one of the most important things in the English language. I could argue about grammar all day. Here is some vitally important grammar in action.
The Oxford Comma
The Oxford Comma is the difference between:
I had a party and I invited the strippers, Hitler, and Stalin.
OR
I had a party and I invited the strippers, Hitler and Stalin.
I'm sure that two evil dictators would make fine strippers. Anyone want a lap dance?
Comma Usage in General
A well placed comma is the difference between:
Let's eat, Grandma!
And
Let's eat Grandma!
Grammar. Saving grandmothers from cannibalism one comma at a time.
Capitilization and Commas
I helped my uncle, Jack, off a horse.
I helped my uncle jack off a horse.
In one instance you are helping a relative off of an equine. In the next, you are helping said relative masturbate said equine.
Like I said: Grammar is important!
The Oxford Comma
The Oxford Comma is the difference between:
I had a party and I invited the strippers, Hitler, and Stalin.
OR
I had a party and I invited the strippers, Hitler and Stalin.
I'm sure that two evil dictators would make fine strippers. Anyone want a lap dance?
Comma Usage in General
A well placed comma is the difference between:
Let's eat, Grandma!
And
Let's eat Grandma!
Grammar. Saving grandmothers from cannibalism one comma at a time.
Capitilization and Commas
I helped my uncle, Jack, off a horse.
I helped my uncle jack off a horse.
In one instance you are helping a relative off of an equine. In the next, you are helping said relative masturbate said equine.
Like I said: Grammar is important!
Monday, November 14, 2011
Things That I Find Funny That Wouldn't Be Funny To Most People
Hey There Fooligans
(Okay confession - when I wrote that, I read it in my head in the voice of Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales, because when my little brother was little, he watched all of these videos about a superhero named Larry Boy, and when Larry Boy would approach someone on the street, he would greet them by saying 'Hey There Citizen'. And I just tried to find a video on YouTube. I'M NUTS!)
I find it hilariously, ironically funny that people who watch the show Glee and call themselves Gleeks are, in fact, calling them the little bit of spit that flies out of your mouth sometimes involuntarily. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. And don't deny it. You've all done it. Don't look at me with those shifty eyes!
I find it funny that in Massachusetts, or at least around where I live (just north of Boston), that is perfectly acceptable to say very mean sarcastic things to people. And the funny thing is that everyone around you is probably thinking the same thing. Case in point - I was out with my mum the other day, and we were walking across the street and a car was coming very fast towards us, so my mother shouts (or, more accurately, says loudly. She didn't shout.) at the car "Okay, buddy, go a little faster, that's totally cool." And the three or so people who were crossing the street with all kind of went "I was just thinking that" out loud. Only in Massachusetts.
(I know that what my mother said wasn't very mean, but it was very sarcastic. Mainly, I was trying to show the same-mindedness of all of us Massholes.)
I can't wait to go to college and go to a place where it is not socially acceptable to be very openly, cruelly sarcastic. I will end up being the person who says that mean thing and have everyone be completely horrified. "But you were all thinking it!" will probably end up being my excuse, and all of my future friends (soon to be alienated future friends) will look at me in shock and horror and in unison will all say "NO WE WEREN'T!" And it will be glorious. And I will have no friends. Just like now.
*Sigh*
I will never be socially acceptable.
I think I just have to accept that fact.
I find it funny that it's 12:23 AM. As in THE MORNING! And I still have piles of homework. Hooray. I had a FOUR DAY weekend. And I waited until Monday-Freaking-Morning to do it. Winning over here, guys. Just mountains of winning. Mountains and mountains of it.
I have left the valley of the eternally screwed and entered the mountains of the royally, winningly, FUCKED.
LOVE AND KISSES ALL OF YOU!!!
Jen
(Okay confession - when I wrote that, I read it in my head in the voice of Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales, because when my little brother was little, he watched all of these videos about a superhero named Larry Boy, and when Larry Boy would approach someone on the street, he would greet them by saying 'Hey There Citizen'. And I just tried to find a video on YouTube. I'M NUTS!)
I find it hilariously, ironically funny that people who watch the show Glee and call themselves Gleeks are, in fact, calling them the little bit of spit that flies out of your mouth sometimes involuntarily. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. And don't deny it. You've all done it. Don't look at me with those shifty eyes!
I find it funny that in Massachusetts, or at least around where I live (just north of Boston), that is perfectly acceptable to say very mean sarcastic things to people. And the funny thing is that everyone around you is probably thinking the same thing. Case in point - I was out with my mum the other day, and we were walking across the street and a car was coming very fast towards us, so my mother shouts (or, more accurately, says loudly. She didn't shout.) at the car "Okay, buddy, go a little faster, that's totally cool." And the three or so people who were crossing the street with all kind of went "I was just thinking that" out loud. Only in Massachusetts.
(I know that what my mother said wasn't very mean, but it was very sarcastic. Mainly, I was trying to show the same-mindedness of all of us Massholes.)
I can't wait to go to college and go to a place where it is not socially acceptable to be very openly, cruelly sarcastic. I will end up being the person who says that mean thing and have everyone be completely horrified. "But you were all thinking it!" will probably end up being my excuse, and all of my future friends (soon to be alienated future friends) will look at me in shock and horror and in unison will all say "NO WE WEREN'T!" And it will be glorious. And I will have no friends. Just like now.
*Sigh*
I will never be socially acceptable.
I think I just have to accept that fact.
I find it funny that it's 12:23 AM. As in THE MORNING! And I still have piles of homework. Hooray. I had a FOUR DAY weekend. And I waited until Monday-Freaking-Morning to do it. Winning over here, guys. Just mountains of winning. Mountains and mountains of it.
I have left the valley of the eternally screwed and entered the mountains of the royally, winningly, FUCKED.
LOVE AND KISSES ALL OF YOU!!!
Jen
Monday, November 7, 2011
A Realization In The Shower
And no, that wasn't a ploy to get you all to think of my washing my hair, but you are all now thinking of that, aren't you? I am a diabolical mastermind.
Anyway, as I was realizing that one of my second toes is longer than my big toe, but the other one isn't, I had a realization.
Most of the people on YouTube are all Liberal Arts majors that have happened or are waiting to happen. The makes me fear greatly for my job in the future, because I am in now way, shape, or form, as talented as them.
This makes me feel kind of insignificant.
Oh, the existential thoughts I think in the tub at 6:00 in the morning.
God, I hate talented people.
Ah, well, Tararara!
Love and kisses,
L.
Anyway, as I was realizing that one of my second toes is longer than my big toe, but the other one isn't, I had a realization.
Most of the people on YouTube are all Liberal Arts majors that have happened or are waiting to happen. The makes me fear greatly for my job in the future, because I am in now way, shape, or form, as talented as them.
This makes me feel kind of insignificant.
Oh, the existential thoughts I think in the tub at 6:00 in the morning.
God, I hate talented people.
Ah, well, Tararara!
Love and kisses,
L.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sorry That I Haven't Posted In A While, Lovelypoos...
It's just that I've been mad busy and stuff, being a teenager and all that jazz.
I got a callback for my school play, so that's good!
I froze my butt off at a football game yesterday, and I slammed my knee into one of the drums. I have a bruise the size of Kansas. Quite enjoyable. Really. I love not being able to bend my knee *SARCASM*.
Watch this.
I don't care if you don't like Doctor Who, or the Proclaimers. You will love this video or I will find you and make you love it. Well that sounded sufficiently rape-y, so...
You like jazz?
I digress.
Anyway, so now that I've shared that...What did I do today? I was a cool kid. I went to an Academic Decathlon Qualifying Test. We didn't make it, but still. Fun experience.
Funny story of my awkwardness commencing. We were exiting the theater where the orientation had been given, and I just noticed that the walls, I kid you not, were hung with chain mail drapery. Chain mail drapery! Do you know how amazingly wonderful and weird that is? Very, is the answer. If you didn't answer as such, go die in a hole. Chain mail is freaking awesome. Anyway, I noticed, and I had a mini freak out over how awesome it was. I kept poking it and telling my friends Aniket and Ryan how cool it was, and how they should touch it. Then the guy who was facilitating our test taps me on the shoulder, and said "You do know that you are being filmed, don't you?"
THERE WAS A VIDEOGRAPHER RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOORWAY WATCHING ME HAVE A ME-TYPE MOMENT WITH THE CHAIN MAIL DRAPES!!!!!
Oh, Moses and the Israelites I was SO embarrassed. I couldn't stop giggling and my face went beet red. (I don't get that phrase. Beets are pink.) My face when beet pink, then, brain. Blushed like a blushing thing that blushes. It was what I was meant to do. Baby I was born this way! Enough.
So embarrassing.
Oh, and it gets weirder! On our way out after the test was over, I saw the same videographer! And he smiled oh so creepily at me. I very nearly flipped him off. But I didn't. Because that would have put me in the 'Not Normal' category, and that category was probably the only one that my team won. We were all cashe, in like jeans and t-shirts. Ryan was wearing sweat pants. Everyone else there was wearing like matching shirts and button downs with ties and dress shoes. Ultimate nobheads. Seriously. So I didn't flip off the videographer, no matter how dearly I wanted to. I restrained. I'm a lady. Mostly.
So I have callbacks for the play tomorrow. I'm excited, but at the same time kind of nervous. First time I've ever gotten callbacks before, so this is entirely new for me. I guess it means that my directors finally think that I'm good enough to be something other than extra number five. Which would be awesome. Really truly awesome. So wish me luck, lovelypoos!
Here is a song for you all to listen to. I want reviews in the comments. Keep in mind, I love this song, so don't say anything mean or I will write nasty things about your cat.
Henrietta, The Fratellis
LOVE LOVE LOVE this song. I love that whole cd. And that band. So, enjoy!
Parting Joke:
Two women walked into a department store, stopped at the perfume counter and picked up a sample bottle. One sprayed the perfume on her wrist and smelled it. "That's nice, isn't it?" Sharon said waving her arm under her friend's nose. "Yeah. What's it called?" "Viens a moi." "Viens a moi? What's that mean?" A clerk offered some help. "Viens a moi, ladies, is French for 'come to me.'" Sharon took another sniff. "That doesn't smell like come to me," she said, offering her arm to her friend again. "Does that smell like come to you?"
Enjoy!
Best wishes!
Love and kisses,
L.
I got a callback for my school play, so that's good!
I froze my butt off at a football game yesterday, and I slammed my knee into one of the drums. I have a bruise the size of Kansas. Quite enjoyable. Really. I love not being able to bend my knee *SARCASM*.
Watch this.
I don't care if you don't like Doctor Who, or the Proclaimers. You will love this video or I will find you and make you love it. Well that sounded sufficiently rape-y, so...
You like jazz?
I digress.
Anyway, so now that I've shared that...What did I do today? I was a cool kid. I went to an Academic Decathlon Qualifying Test. We didn't make it, but still. Fun experience.
Funny story of my awkwardness commencing. We were exiting the theater where the orientation had been given, and I just noticed that the walls, I kid you not, were hung with chain mail drapery. Chain mail drapery! Do you know how amazingly wonderful and weird that is? Very, is the answer. If you didn't answer as such, go die in a hole. Chain mail is freaking awesome. Anyway, I noticed, and I had a mini freak out over how awesome it was. I kept poking it and telling my friends Aniket and Ryan how cool it was, and how they should touch it. Then the guy who was facilitating our test taps me on the shoulder, and said "You do know that you are being filmed, don't you?"
THERE WAS A VIDEOGRAPHER RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOORWAY WATCHING ME HAVE A ME-TYPE MOMENT WITH THE CHAIN MAIL DRAPES!!!!!
Oh, Moses and the Israelites I was SO embarrassed. I couldn't stop giggling and my face went beet red. (I don't get that phrase. Beets are pink.) My face when beet pink, then, brain. Blushed like a blushing thing that blushes. It was what I was meant to do. Baby I was born this way! Enough.
So embarrassing.
Oh, and it gets weirder! On our way out after the test was over, I saw the same videographer! And he smiled oh so creepily at me. I very nearly flipped him off. But I didn't. Because that would have put me in the 'Not Normal' category, and that category was probably the only one that my team won. We were all cashe, in like jeans and t-shirts. Ryan was wearing sweat pants. Everyone else there was wearing like matching shirts and button downs with ties and dress shoes. Ultimate nobheads. Seriously. So I didn't flip off the videographer, no matter how dearly I wanted to. I restrained. I'm a lady. Mostly.
So I have callbacks for the play tomorrow. I'm excited, but at the same time kind of nervous. First time I've ever gotten callbacks before, so this is entirely new for me. I guess it means that my directors finally think that I'm good enough to be something other than extra number five. Which would be awesome. Really truly awesome. So wish me luck, lovelypoos!
Here is a song for you all to listen to. I want reviews in the comments. Keep in mind, I love this song, so don't say anything mean or I will write nasty things about your cat.
Henrietta, The Fratellis
LOVE LOVE LOVE this song. I love that whole cd. And that band. So, enjoy!
Parting Joke:
Two women walked into a department store, stopped at the perfume counter and picked up a sample bottle. One sprayed the perfume on her wrist and smelled it. "That's nice, isn't it?" Sharon said waving her arm under her friend's nose. "Yeah. What's it called?" "Viens a moi." "Viens a moi? What's that mean?" A clerk offered some help. "Viens a moi, ladies, is French for 'come to me.'" Sharon took another sniff. "That doesn't smell like come to me," she said, offering her arm to her friend again. "Does that smell like come to you?"
Enjoy!
Best wishes!
Love and kisses,
L.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
MORE LINKS TO CLICK!!! CLICK THEM CLICK THEM CLICK THEM!!!!
You know how I wrote that thing about glee give a note?
And how if you clicked the link I would give you a place in my government when I take over the world? Something like that?
Yeah, that still applies.
CLICKY THE LINKY!
CLICK ME I'M A LINK!
But in addition to helping my school win some cashola for music, and you all know how important music is, I'm giving you lovelypoos another link to click. And you will hear the sound of my voice for possibly the first time. Grab onto your socks, pants, hats, anything that could be blown off, because I am about to BLOW YOUR MIND.
Click this and follow the sound of my voice.
I appear at I think around the 1 minute mark. Be forewarned - I was not told that I would be used for filming that day, so I'm wearing no makeup and my acorn hat. You will see why I call it an acorn hat if you click the link. You will also see that I'm really bad at improvising.
But I thought you might enjoy this. My school is quite hilarious. I'm proud to be part of the band! Even if we are clumsy. You will get it if you click the link! Promise!
That's right.
I'm in the band!
Love and kisses,
L.
P.S. That thing about the squirrel? Not a lie. If you click the link, you will know what I'm talking about!
P.P.S. The pads bit made my think of sanitary pads. It was awkward, because it is funny, and if you think of that, it makes it funnier. CLICKTHELINKIFYOUWANTTOKNOWWHATIMTALKINGABOUT!!!!
P.P.S. I really want you to click the link, can you tell? Because 1. I want you to like my school and vote for us for the glee thing, and 2. I want you to see that I'm an awkward awkwarder who likes to awkward and that I'm wearing a hat. And that I exist. So, click the links, yeah?
And how if you clicked the link I would give you a place in my government when I take over the world? Something like that?
Yeah, that still applies.
CLICKY THE LINKY!
CLICK ME I'M A LINK!
But in addition to helping my school win some cashola for music, and you all know how important music is, I'm giving you lovelypoos another link to click. And you will hear the sound of my voice for possibly the first time. Grab onto your socks, pants, hats, anything that could be blown off, because I am about to BLOW YOUR MIND.
Click this and follow the sound of my voice.
I appear at I think around the 1 minute mark. Be forewarned - I was not told that I would be used for filming that day, so I'm wearing no makeup and my acorn hat. You will see why I call it an acorn hat if you click the link. You will also see that I'm really bad at improvising.
But I thought you might enjoy this. My school is quite hilarious. I'm proud to be part of the band! Even if we are clumsy. You will get it if you click the link! Promise!
That's right.
I'm in the band!
Love and kisses,
L.
P.S. That thing about the squirrel? Not a lie. If you click the link, you will know what I'm talking about!
P.P.S. The pads bit made my think of sanitary pads. It was awkward, because it is funny, and if you think of that, it makes it funnier. CLICKTHELINKIFYOUWANTTOKNOWWHATIMTALKINGABOUT!!!!
P.P.S. I really want you to click the link, can you tell? Because 1. I want you to like my school and vote for us for the glee thing, and 2. I want you to see that I'm an awkward awkwarder who likes to awkward and that I'm wearing a hat. And that I exist. So, click the links, yeah?
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Life Is An STD That Is Always Fatal
Lovelypoos! I'm back! I'm not dead! I didn't fall off the face of the earth! I wasn't eaten by rabid walruses! I just had a really big history project due, and that took up all of my time. It won't happen again. Kidding, it probably will happen. All the time. So sorry about that.
I'm going to confess something to you all that I haven't actually confessed out loud, not even when I'm talking to myself.
Prepare yourselves for what may seem like deep-rooted self esteem issues mixed in with some adolescent hormonal moaning. But don't worry; It's just sleep deprivation.
I'm afraid that I'm defective. I know that that sounds awful and terrible, but I do. I have two friends, yes? I have them in most of my classes, and during PE we sit in the corner of the gymnasium on the mats and talk about stuff (yes, for all of you who are wondering, I'm passing this class with an A, thank you very much). Mostly the stuff we talk about is boys, because we are girls.
Now my two friends, both of them openly have crushes on boys, I guess is the way to put it. Both of them have had multiple boyfriends and they both get boys to like them really easily.
Here is where I feel like I'm defective. I can't get a guy to like me. Like ever. I've had a grand total of one boyfriend, and that was for fifteen minutes in the sixth grade. I've never been kissed, and I doubt any self-respecting guy has even thought about kissing me, regardless of how horny he was.
And I don't feel a need to always like a guy. I haven't 'had a crush' since sixth grade. At least on anyone attainable. I have 'idea crushes', as in, I love the idea of someone, like a celebrity. Or I get really attached to a voice. Or a character in a book. But not on anyone real. Does that make me defective? Or weird?
I am kind of worried that I'm going to end up lonely and alone because I have trouble making connections with people. I feel like people think that I'm aloof. I guess sometimes I do act like that. It's my own fault. I act aloof and use caustic sarcasm as a way to hide the fact that I have no idea how to act and that I actually am quite shy.
People have said that one of my great qualities is no fear to talk to strangers and a vast knowledge that allows me to relate to anyone. If only they knew.
Okay, so that was deeply personal, I'm so sorry that I just subjected you to that.
I love you all. Seriously.
Parting joke:
Why did the dolphin commit suicide?
Because his life had no porpoise!
Love and kisses,
L.
I'm going to confess something to you all that I haven't actually confessed out loud, not even when I'm talking to myself.
Prepare yourselves for what may seem like deep-rooted self esteem issues mixed in with some adolescent hormonal moaning. But don't worry; It's just sleep deprivation.
I'm afraid that I'm defective. I know that that sounds awful and terrible, but I do. I have two friends, yes? I have them in most of my classes, and during PE we sit in the corner of the gymnasium on the mats and talk about stuff (yes, for all of you who are wondering, I'm passing this class with an A, thank you very much). Mostly the stuff we talk about is boys, because we are girls.
Now my two friends, both of them openly have crushes on boys, I guess is the way to put it. Both of them have had multiple boyfriends and they both get boys to like them really easily.
Here is where I feel like I'm defective. I can't get a guy to like me. Like ever. I've had a grand total of one boyfriend, and that was for fifteen minutes in the sixth grade. I've never been kissed, and I doubt any self-respecting guy has even thought about kissing me, regardless of how horny he was.
And I don't feel a need to always like a guy. I haven't 'had a crush' since sixth grade. At least on anyone attainable. I have 'idea crushes', as in, I love the idea of someone, like a celebrity. Or I get really attached to a voice. Or a character in a book. But not on anyone real. Does that make me defective? Or weird?
I am kind of worried that I'm going to end up lonely and alone because I have trouble making connections with people. I feel like people think that I'm aloof. I guess sometimes I do act like that. It's my own fault. I act aloof and use caustic sarcasm as a way to hide the fact that I have no idea how to act and that I actually am quite shy.
People have said that one of my great qualities is no fear to talk to strangers and a vast knowledge that allows me to relate to anyone. If only they knew.
Okay, so that was deeply personal, I'm so sorry that I just subjected you to that.
I love you all. Seriously.
Parting joke:
Why did the dolphin commit suicide?
Because his life had no porpoise!
Love and kisses,
L.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Random Thoughts From My Random Mind...Enjoy Sparingly With Cheese
None of this is real. Not your shoes. Not your face. Not your fake IQ. We are all in the dream of some great strange sneeze beast somewhere in the universe. So go be absolutely crazy.
Ball sack is becoming my swearword of choice. I don't know why. I say balls when I'm in the company of others, but when I'm alone. It's just all about the ball sack. Why, I'll never really know.
I love the word orugulous. It means prideful. It was my word of the day today. And I just spell checked it, and apparently orugulous is too awesome for blogger. I've beaten the Internets. Can I get a what what? (off in the distance) WHAT WHAT?!
I find out what musical my high school is doing this year tomorrow. I'm quite excited, but at the same time I'm a bit, I don't know, eh. I know what part I'll be getting. Ensemble. Again. Just like last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. But I'm totally okay with that, because I get to hang out with cool people and do just about nothing two days after school until February, and then suddenly it all comes together in a pillar of awesome and it is really good. Just a dead good job, you know what I mean?
I got an 84 on my latest Algebra II test! I feel like I beat the system. My friend got a one hundred. How she did, I've no idea. I'm just pleased I passed. I basically failed the first test. It was a 65, which is a D. But it is still a D, and a D is unacceptable. Neither is an 84, really, in my mind, but that is going to change. I'm getting As in math this year, you guys. It is going to happen. My grandfather was a freaking mathematician and an engineer. Some of that smartness must have trickled down, right?! RIGHT?!!!!!
This whole post is a lie. Your face is a lie. Your dog is a lie. Your non-existent dog is a lie. Your pet rock is a lie. THE CAKE IS A LIE.
My head is doing loads better, for any of you who care. The headaches are getting super manageable, which is dead brilliant, and I'm really excited to be able to say that I'm normal. Two days ago, though, I went to the dentist to get a filling (my first one, ever. I'm such a fail at dental hygiene.) and they stabbed me twice with needles and I didn't enjoy that. My face hurt so much that I had to take ibuprofen. And if that wasn't the stupidest thing I've ever done, ever. Yesterday, I had a headache for twelve hours. TWELVE HOURS. I HAD A HEADACHE FOR HALF A DAY. I'm feeling a lot better today, but now I know how my body reacts to ibuprofen (e.g. BADLY) so I'm never going to take any, ever again. And I should be all the better for it.
I am currently obsessed with hats. I'm growing my hair out, since it is really short and I miss doing it and stuff, but it is getting into that awkward stage where I always have to where a hat because it is just really weird looking. So I'm knitting a hat and I have all of these cool ones and I'm very excited.
Fun fact of the day: Whenever I type a blog to you's guys, when I'm hearing the words in my head, I hear them in an English/Scottish/Irish accent (it all depends on my mood.). The voice in my head speaks with a British accent. I'm just that cool. Or mad. I guess it depends on your view of things.
This blog was a lot longer than I intended it to be. So, I guess that's good, yeah?
Brilliant!
Parting joke:
Why does Cinderella suck at sports?
Because she's always running away from the ball!
HAHAHA GOOD CLEAN HUMOR!!!!
Love and kisses,
L.
P.S. Guess who has twenty followers? I HAVE TWENTY FOLLOWERS!!! YAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I LOVE ALL OF YOU TO PIECES, I REALLY DO!!!!
Extra-special love and kisses
L.
Ball sack is becoming my swearword of choice. I don't know why. I say balls when I'm in the company of others, but when I'm alone. It's just all about the ball sack. Why, I'll never really know.
I love the word orugulous. It means prideful. It was my word of the day today. And I just spell checked it, and apparently orugulous is too awesome for blogger. I've beaten the Internets. Can I get a what what? (off in the distance) WHAT WHAT?!
I find out what musical my high school is doing this year tomorrow. I'm quite excited, but at the same time I'm a bit, I don't know, eh. I know what part I'll be getting. Ensemble. Again. Just like last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. But I'm totally okay with that, because I get to hang out with cool people and do just about nothing two days after school until February, and then suddenly it all comes together in a pillar of awesome and it is really good. Just a dead good job, you know what I mean?
I got an 84 on my latest Algebra II test! I feel like I beat the system. My friend got a one hundred. How she did, I've no idea. I'm just pleased I passed. I basically failed the first test. It was a 65, which is a D. But it is still a D, and a D is unacceptable. Neither is an 84, really, in my mind, but that is going to change. I'm getting As in math this year, you guys. It is going to happen. My grandfather was a freaking mathematician and an engineer. Some of that smartness must have trickled down, right?! RIGHT?!!!!!
This whole post is a lie. Your face is a lie. Your dog is a lie. Your non-existent dog is a lie. Your pet rock is a lie. THE CAKE IS A LIE.
My head is doing loads better, for any of you who care. The headaches are getting super manageable, which is dead brilliant, and I'm really excited to be able to say that I'm normal. Two days ago, though, I went to the dentist to get a filling (my first one, ever. I'm such a fail at dental hygiene.) and they stabbed me twice with needles and I didn't enjoy that. My face hurt so much that I had to take ibuprofen. And if that wasn't the stupidest thing I've ever done, ever. Yesterday, I had a headache for twelve hours. TWELVE HOURS. I HAD A HEADACHE FOR HALF A DAY. I'm feeling a lot better today, but now I know how my body reacts to ibuprofen (e.g. BADLY) so I'm never going to take any, ever again. And I should be all the better for it.
I am currently obsessed with hats. I'm growing my hair out, since it is really short and I miss doing it and stuff, but it is getting into that awkward stage where I always have to where a hat because it is just really weird looking. So I'm knitting a hat and I have all of these cool ones and I'm very excited.
Fun fact of the day: Whenever I type a blog to you's guys, when I'm hearing the words in my head, I hear them in an English/Scottish/Irish accent (it all depends on my mood.). The voice in my head speaks with a British accent. I'm just that cool. Or mad. I guess it depends on your view of things.
This blog was a lot longer than I intended it to be. So, I guess that's good, yeah?
Brilliant!
Parting joke:
Why does Cinderella suck at sports?
Because she's always running away from the ball!
HAHAHA GOOD CLEAN HUMOR!!!!
Love and kisses,
L.
P.S. Guess who has twenty followers? I HAVE TWENTY FOLLOWERS!!! YAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I LOVE ALL OF YOU TO PIECES, I REALLY DO!!!!
Extra-special love and kisses
L.
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