February 15, 2011

I'm sitting here staring at the cursor blink and thinking about the night of making dinner with my imaginary friends (they were no help!) and I have come to a realization.

All the lonely people, where do they come from? All the lonely people where do they belong?

No just kidding.

I've come to the conclusion that my position on the food pyramid of middle school is, like, in-existent. Even loners are loners.
I'm like not there until you are my friend. Once your my friend you realize how many classes you have with me, how many times you pass me in the halls.

I've also decided that my parents have done me a big dis favor (?) by raising me where I am. All good authors, even the crappy authors, write about what they know and have their novels set where they grew up or live.
And what do I know?
I can't write about bullying, I'm not bullied.
I can't write about being popular, or about living in the big city or small town. I can't write about growing up, because I'm an alien.
So my book's are gonna be about Ellen and imaginary friends. Can you see that with an Oprah seal of approval?

Sorry I'm being so whiny. I'm on a sugar crash. I had to ride the morning bus and my mom thinks I'm a lesbian, and is determined to have the talk with me over again for our new circumstances.
She's calling it a refresher, I got the original one in 1st grade. And personally I don't think a 7 year old needs to know about blue balls.
I told her that stuff doesn't come up on the playground, but it's like once you wind her up she just keeps flipping. Until your 7 year old has been stripped of their innocence.

Oh, speaking of stripped of their innocence. God, my mind. I wanted to tell you one of my tricks on remembering certain information.
From atoms to ions- Ion's are the floozies of the elements. After an atom gives away or receives electrons, or gives away it's virginity, it becomes an ion.

And I'm the A student.

My petition to get the semi formal theme to be famous couples in history isn't working out. Everyone wants a masquerade, which is simply an invitation for some rapist in a mask to join the fun at the Italian American club. And they already have their problems. That was probably why their drinking and gambling licenses were revoked. Because you know you can only eat there now.

Something about hanging out with the cheerleaders makes you realize one of two things. Either how crap your life is, or how crap your life is. I hate myself more when I'm with them.

But then again, hanging out with my own friends, as few as they are, reminds me how crap my life is. 
I'm actually a little worried because we have to make a health triangle in health and my social side is gonna be soo small.

Have a jolly good day! And remember the H's are unnecessary in Spanish!