February 22, 2011

So I heard from Issy's mom on Sunday that each cheerleader was getting a special purse filled with notes from their family and friends. I find, this extremely unnecessary. But I was asked to write one, and so I tried. Only no matter what I did I sounded like all the other girls in my class. All emoticons and odd numbers of exclamation points.
Everything I typed seemed unbelievably, well, unbelievable. It was all mushy and gushy and falling action of a movie cheesy.

I think I'll print it out and put it onto an other paper with lots of pictures or something in order to distract from the artificial smiley faces.

I think I'm actually going to her game on Friday. And that should be the only time I stay after this week. No NJHS today. In fact, I haven't been to a meeting in a month and a half. Whats the point of  a honor club when the only thing people are worried about is t-shirts that insist on our good deeds and deciding whether a pie toss or cake walk is a better idea for an nonexistent spring carnival.

Speaking of superficial, and I say that in the nicest way, when I came into English this morning, Bernie was already there. One of her eyes looked more cow like than usual (apparently she didn't take that as a compliment) and the other had no white showing. It was scrunched up and unbearably red.

I, too, was injured today. My right wrist was wrapped up and my right elbow is aching in the joint. I told everyone that I had visited the Jersey Shore, was at this crazy party and hurt myself fist pumping. I told them Snookie could be very maternal in a time of crisis.

The honestly sad part was that most people just burst out laughing. And worse, sometimes they didn't get it, looked at me blankly, took it seriously and told me that they couldn't imagine me at that kind of party.

Such people must be forgiven for their stupidity.

It was to late to post this yesterday, but while on THE facebook yesterday I came across this post.
crying my fucking eyes out .... 
I hope your happy
Followed by this comment from her boyfriend   
 so am i
And perhaps you don't find this as funny as I do. And I don't think that other peoples pain is funny, it's just that despite my lack of a love life I think that what you do with the ones you 'love' should not be posted on Facebook. Granted, those that are popular want the world to know they're popular. But this post was almost immediately followed by a terrible review of Justin Beiber's new hair cut. 


So here's my tip of the day- When you post about you love life-
A. Mention names, because creepers like me want our work made easy. (Actual tip-never mention names.)
B. Use proper grammar and stray from three, slash, less-thans if you can. (Seriously that was it.)

Lucky for me. I don't have to worry about my serious and not serious (depending on how severe you consider celebrity haircuts) mixing. All my posts are about Justin Beiber. He's mine.

I leave you on that note.
Oh, and hey. My mom wears crocs.