March 29, 2011

Today something major happened. And by major I mean tiny, insignificant, a thing you don't even remember when you run into the main character in the forgotten scenario at the hardware store. That's how major.

So lets back up. Yesterday I made a list of some renewable resources and information about each one in a word document for the new city project in science that I'm doing with Kenzie and Ginger. I told Kenzie, and she gave me crap about it being a waste of time and because lists are sorta my life, it offended me. I played it cool, until I got to school and told Ginger and another girl, Mousy. They both agreed with me. All knocked out on my pride high I told my Geo teacher, and jokingly told her to yell at Kenzie when she came in next hour. That teacher loves me and I don't doubt that she went all 'sister, child' on her, but I also don't think Kenzie took it seriously. But in present time science she tells me and Ginger she's bailing.
Which leads me to a theory. My awesomeness was too strong for the young grasshopper.

I do this thing where when I want to feel sad, I usually do this when I know I'm bummed about something unimportant, I can conjure up a whole circumstance and problem and make myself cry. And I forget my original, probably stupid and petty reason for feeling bad. I do a similar thing when I'm feeling disappointed, because I'll be honest, I kinda was after Kenzie ditched, it's like being dumped over text. Ginger told me, and I had to believe it when she told me that Kenzie had said we just weren't looking for the same things out of life and it was her not me. What I do is try to pick out things about the situation that are good, and things about the person that are bad. In writing this does not sound similar at all to my previous method of reaching happiness, or more so normality.

And in the latter method I discovered that Kenzie is really boring. Straight up dull. She doesn't do anything outside of school, no dance lessons or sports, except cheer which has ended. She doesn't have a constant friend that she always talks about, like I do with Issy. Her grades are good, but she isn't the class smarty (called it!) and her family is traditional, her favorites stereotypical and her hobbies nonexistent. To me she looks like the kinda pf person a serial killer would take the identity of because of the easiness. But that's just how my mind sees it.

But I don't want to go into that because I'm fairly sure this is how most school shootings start off.

My day, other than being dumped for the first time, went well. I made a crap poster in NJHS about the spring carnival and although it started off all right it turned into all the other crummy teacher color paper posters that are ripped off the walls. Actually today I saw not one, but two posters hanging upside down, fully taped upside down. And unless there's some kindred spirit student, full of ironic poster hanging pranks, I see this as yet another sign of how much stupider humanity is getting.

I hope you had a better day than I did! And  a happy New Years too!

March 27, 2011

Long time, no bloggity.
I think I've lost my mojo. What mojo do you speak of?
I wish something glamorous and crazy had happened, but no, the Ellen shows just gonna have to wait.

There's this poster in my world Geo room that says,'Smiling means the same thing in every language.' And then it has a gorilla smiling on it, which I guess is beside the point, despite how well it explains my teacher. If there's one thing I hate, it's motivational posters. With birds flying in a perfect V, and cute kittens saying 'Arr matey!' and different colors of hands shaking. Do I have a reason? Sure. Do I need a reason? No, I hate them.
But the point is, the poster is a lie. (Just like all the others, 'Yes it will matter how I wore my hair!) A smile in one country means happiness, or that you're around someone and your supposed to look happy. In other places, for all we know, it could simply be threatening, like baring your teeth! We have no idea because we're to busy writing motivational statements and photo-shopping smiles onto gorillas.

You know what? That wasn't even my point. My real, real point was that even the simplest things can be interpreted different ways. A high five to you? An excited,'Way to go!' To me? An excuse to make physical contact....

 You'll thank me later-

Your welcome = I didn't want to, but I did because I'm trying on good person for a try, and I got angry that I ended up doing it, so I had to have the last word.

Your cute = I want to pinch your cheeks and at the same time add ie to the end of anything I call you

You look pretty today = You didn't look that great yesterday.

I missed you over the weekend = Please tell me you didn't do anything worthwhile or fun, because I ate 2 pints too many of rocky road and I need some back up.

I love your shoes = Couldn't think of anything else to compliment.

You kinda look like a drag queen = You kinda look like a drag queen

 On Thursday me and Bernie were walking down the hall and she complained about how when she walked she felt way too jiggly (I always feel so jiggly, it sucks! = Look at my breasts right now, look they're bigger then yours!) and I mentioned that whenever I walked my hair always bounced unnaturally, making me look a lot like Cassie, the head cheerleader. Which lead my English teacher to compare me to a pigeon. And later she told her entire 2nd period, not my class, that if they saw me they should ask me what I know about pigeons. All that day and then the next people have been coming up to me in the halls, in the library, everywhere! Popular people....nerds...my friends.

Ms.Heels signed all of chamber of secrets up for some fundraiser called Tea With Belle that's happening before one of the showings of Beauty and the Beast. I guess there's going to be desserts, tea, etiquette lessons, and other stuff, and all while in a dress, skirt or costume. Unfortunately she asked us after the programs were printed, so I have no choice but to look forward to it.

I babysat this weekend, from 3:30 to 11, my 7 year old next door neighbor. She's gotten a lot better about being annoying and bratty, and a little bit like a mini Specs. But she got over it, and I suppose there will forever be only one Specs. Which I think deserves a celebration.

This morning I woke up feeling like scorpions were crawling all over me and as though I had only been asleep 5 minutes. I guess that's what you get for spending your weekend at the Jersey Shore. I'll know for next time.

I hope you have a pigeon free day, and remember in middle school resistance is futile. Do you see a t-shirt out of that?

March 23, 2011

Today my grandma explained to me that to get angry you needed a lot of energy, and I was far to lazy to get angry.

So I guess we all understand now.

So as you may have noticed, what with the fact that I have a blog (that isn't at all like Gossip Girl) that I'm flying under the middle school radar. So when someone openly dislikes me, and they aren't someone I have purposely teased, things get a little off balance. Like when Red hated me, but I think that's resolved.
Anyway my new enemy, or correctly nemesis, is no loser ginger, take some offense ginger people. She's the cheer captain. The wholly unfairly charming and pretty, white, hand crafted, suburbia personified, blond haired (I mean no harm, blonds) frakin' cheer captain! Cassie.....

I'm fairly sure she unfriended me on the Facebook. If I cursed I would say that something just hit the fan. But I don't, so you know, things just got worse. Is what I'm saying. Now by her name, which took me half an hour of time I had to waste to find, says underneath it 84 mutual friends.

Her best friend just happens to be headlining today too. And this is just as out of the ordinary. Most of the cheerleaders are in advanced dance (3rd hour) and apparently while in the dressing room they talk. I've never been watching them or anything so I wouldn't know, because obviously I'm not creepy or anything. And somehow the annual student survey comes up, in which you can leave your own personal comment on your school at the bottom.
I put -Our school gets alright once you learn to deal with its quirks.
One year Bernie wrote a novel on the dress code and then went in and thesaurused every word to make herself sound smart and ended up sounding like a child trying to sound smart. School=academy. Heart= myogenic muscular organ

And, I guess, this girl, Chelsae, said that in her comment she complained about the fact that all the zoned kids were Mexicans, and they were all really rude and like super annoying and the school should be, totally, magnet. I'm paraphrasing here. (I wonder if she knows what that means.)


So Issy, the same girl who beat up German, the most popular boy in school when he shoved me into the lockers, basically had a BF. If you know what I mean. She went crazy, and Issy isn't Mexican, she wasn't personally attacked, she just isn't, well, Chelsae. She ranted for about the rest of the time in the locker room, which by now was completely silent and watched Chelsae's bird face screw itself up and rush out the door.


Chelsea later ran into me and said, loudly and cheerfully, 'Hey O!' I told Issy that I didn't think she knew my name, she told me Cassie probably talks about me a lot.

But the moral isn't that white chicks be crazy, and racist, as easy as that is to jump to, and true. Because just like the girl from UCLA, we can point our finger at an individual, but come on. Chelsea is just another product of our society. Just because I was raised with family meals and she was raised with a convertible waiting in the garage for her doesn't mean she's all bad. What I'm saying is that girls like her are as middle school, and sadly American, as crying yourself to sleep and apple pie.

I mean how funny is it that she tried to say hi to me after the fact thinking that I'd report that she was all good to Issy?

I guess I'll go wallow in one less friend, out of my 7, excuse me, 6, and hold back the tears. But whats new?

I hope you had a less cold, drama filled day than I did. Because I called dibs!

March 21, 2011

Just got back from the pre festival concert. According to Facebook it was terrible, which only slightly bummed me out considering the size of the house. It wasn't like anyone was there to see us.

In health with a capital H we rolled paper cigarettes today and held them in our mouth or hand all hour. It was seriously scary how real some of them looked. Like, now I know what you do with your weekend.

Issy had braces this morning and Kenzie couldn't stop talking about how bad she felt for her. Like, girl, as if. We all know that secretly those who already have braces are thrilled when a new one joins their cult. Like when girls see a girl with really short, Emma Watson style, hair and think to themselves, one less girl to compete with. I'm not saying it's right. I'm just saying its true.

See, we all have little things that we slyly think and believe that influence our decisions.
That's middle school.
Mine?

1. When people say 'no homo,' Yeah I did go there, and I am not taking that back.
2.  No offense. Unless you are going to say,'No offense, you're so pretty,' shut your mouth. Specs...
3. People with one piercing who aren't gay or pirates. Am I right?
4. Guys with perfect finger nails.
5. People (I almost deleted that and said girls, but let's be honest) that make little deformed hearts with their hands.
6. People who add terms of endearment to make you feel stupid, 'No, honey, it's actually -32.'
7. Not having a picture of Ellen in your wallet. Automatic turn off.
8. People who wear headbands across their foreheads. Am I the only one that thinks this is wrong?
9. Jonas Brothers. Need I say more?
10. Clip in flowers. I think this was like an acquired hatred after starting to associate them with people like Specs.

Today Tina, the violist I sometimes talk too had her 14th birthday. She was carrying around a cupcake in a little case, but other than that you couldn't tell.  Me, her and Tim were all sitting next to each other and she asked him for a piece of gum. He wouldn't give it to her. So she left, pouted and cried! I mean, I know it's your birthday, but child please, you can cry, but not over that.

And I never got the cupcake she was going to drop off....

When I got to my geography teachers room for NJHS, no one else was there. I asked her why, and she told me that they had all said they would be coming. So no meeting, what with the forum being alone. And when she asked me and the couple of other kids (who were working on late work) if we were hungry, I didn't get any, because it was chicken and mashed potatoes.

So I did nothing for 2 and a half hours. But then again, what would I have done otherwise?

In that 2 and half hours I did some deep soul searching and realized that even if the cheer captain hates me, I'll be okay. Oh? I didn't mention that? Yes...she hates me. Thinks I'm stuck up (probably,) a teachers pet (I'm not the one giving out gifts at St.Patrick's Day,) and that I act like I'm smarter than all my teachers (some things aren't acting...)

And while that did hurt, it wasn't nearly the same as being hated by my math teacher, who after finding out I don't know my 8's, yelled at me and told me to come back when I figured it out. It was like when they tell you they're disappointed in you. It's a burn.

I hope you all had a good first half of the week. Because it's hump day! I just like saying that...

March 16, 2011

Greetings and salutations my lovely Croc wearers.

I came to a realization today, while home alone and walking around naked, that despite all out efforts, we aren't gonna be just exactly like our idols. It's sad, but true. I have a few idols, some are fictional, some are real. Well, actually only two that are real, that aren't my mom, and they're both in high school. In fact, they're kind of opposite each other. One is so nice, almost too nice, and she's pretty and put together and polite. And I want to have that charm, it'll help me with the ladies. And the other is a dancer, with sloppy hair and rebellious attitudes and impulsive actions. Also, help with the ladies.

My others consist of the character -Blair Waldorf, whose dream job is simply to be a powerful women.
The actress-Blake Lively, because, well just Google it. Wink Wink Nudge Nudge

And that's just a few. But they're all so different, and I try so hard to be like them all. It's rather pathetic when thought about for long enough, like light beer and cat caption pictures.

Take my weekend, I was at this outdoor mall with Kenzie (surprise!) and we went in to a few stores, and as I shop I always ask myself if one or more of my idols would approve. In some ways this protects me and the public from a Lady Gagaesque malfunction. But in other ways, I have no idea what kind of clothes I like to wear. I like t shirts, sure, and I always check the jeans 'n ts box in personality quizzes, but who doesn't? Does anyone check the mini skirt and fish nets box?

Anyway, my point is. Because yes, Mom, I have one. (It's not revealing, it's individuality!) Is that no matter how hard we try we aren't gonna be replicas of our idols. And, think about it, it wouldn't be that great anyway. That way, we couldn't be idols ourselves.
God, I'm good.

So here's my tip. Get an idol, a wholesome one, with morals and values. Like me. Oh, Charlie and Brittany, how you will lead me to greatness. And follow their examples, not their lives. Because, from my limited experience, looking through the binoculars isn't that great. And getting screamed at by Miley Cyrus in the middle of the night with sirens steadily approaching isn't that great either.

As I stealthily mentioned I did spend my Saturday afternoon with Kenzie, with the lights out and only the bad soundtrack of Beastly to be heard. Does Vanessa Ann Hudgens voice provoke cramps for anyone else? And then window shopping. Life's good. I think she's gonna invite me over next weekend. And I swear this whole friendship is a parade of awkwardly inserted hugs, sarcastic comments, and carefully chosen outfits. But whose isn't?

I feel like I kinda abandoned you this past week. And I'd love to tell you I was busy, but I like to be as honest as possible while on the Internet, no Google image My Space pics for this girl. Id love to tell you I had tests, or a thriving social life. Or that Ellen called one night and sent a private jet to my street with Jane Lynch inside waiting to take me to Fiji for a special broadcast of Ellen's show which would feature...sorry that was unexpected. But I can tell you none of this. Basically I've been lazier than usual.
That sounded just as sad in my head as it does in writing.

So I'll leave you with two things. And you can pray that I come back or, because I swear by being honest online, that I don't.
1- Cat Caption Pictures? No.
Lemur Caption Photos? Boss (Sorry, I can't say it out loud with out people beating me up, so here all I get is cyber punches)
http://funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/263066/Chill+Lemur/

2- Why is there a late night with Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon? Do you know who your viewers are? I'm a freaking genius and I'm confused. 

My best wishes, and I hope you don't get hit with any radioactive rain!
Who am I kidding? We need more Hulks and Supermen.