So my life is pretty boring right now. Fat slob I am, on my computer yet again, tapping away on my keyboard, my brain turned to mush. The paper I was supposed to be working on for English hasn’t been touched yet. Cystic fibrosis can wait for one night, and so can all those depressing stories about self-cannibalistic children or deranged and psychotic old men with the appearance of Tourette’s. But I guess I deserve that for going to a school of science. All the crazy that comes with the medicine, or the never-ending chemistry classes. Not to mention I’m signing up for college classes next week. Yoga, English 101, and Math 141 (Pre-calculus). At first Mrs. Sullivan had signed me up for Math 146 (Intro to Statistics), and I’m not ready for a class like that. But I guess it wouldn’t have been that difficult. I can usually handle anything while keeping my composure, most of the time….
I’m in a nostalgic sort of mood tonight, verging on depressed and listening to Mr. and Mrs. Beautiful (The Workday Release), The A-Team (Ed Shearan), Be Here Now (David Lehr), and I Won’t Give Up (Jason Mraz). Oh and Such Great Heights (Iron and Wine). I’m so very lonely all the time, and I can’t really talk about the serious stuff with my friends, and I lost my one true friend who listened and helped. I thought I had alienated him but I was wrong, he pushed me away, and acts like I’m the weird one. He kinda makes me upset, and I don’t enjoy being around him. His stupid jokes or back-biting attitude. Not to mention I can’t ask a question without the annoying air of superiority and condescension enter his voice.
So I’m settling for a group of highly dysfunctional and irrational (or can I say stupid) immature girls who care more about what other people think about them and whether or not someone can take a joke. They have no boundaries for feelings and are completely insensitive. And I don’t know what I can say for Makenzie and Lydia’s relationship. It’s on the rocks at best, all over a ridiculous misunderstanding. All involving Makenzie making a joke about Lydia’s weight and refusing to apologize. And yes I am talking about 17 year old girls, which means the infantile behavior is excusable. So our group is on a weird spiral that I don’t want to get into too much, with Amber and I on the sidelines while everyone else’s relationships go up in smoke…
Prom was this weekend. I believe it gives seniors the change to dress all fancy and stand in a smelly gym drinking crappy punch. I don’t look forward to my own prom in two years. I’m just strange like that, plus I look bad in dresses. And I’m commonly allergic to big crowds, but I don’t believe I’m claustrophobic. My brain has a lot to say, a lot more than I wanted it to say. I guess I’m better at typing my thoughts than writing them with a pencil onto a piece of paper. All my journals are only half full, I rarely ever commit, and when I do it’s a miracle. Following through isn’t my strong suit, unreliability runs its course yet again.
Looking back at my old journal from the seventh grade I couldn’t believe how petty I was. How silly I was always being. And I’m sure when I read this in a few years I’ll think I was just as stupid. This scenario probably fits in somewhere with the evolution of mankind. We believe all of our mistakes were stupid, and we have regrets, most of the time for our thoughts than actual actions.
My purpose right now is to lose weight. I’m chubby, and I hate myself. I weigh 154 pounds and wish I weighed 100. Maybe this summer will finally be the summer, where I prove everyone wrong. Where I make jaws drop when I come back to school. But I highly doubt it. I’m just hoping my boobs shrink.
My sister starts high school in the fall as a little freshman. I remember my first day of freshman year to be extremely embarrassing. I walked in about 5 minutes late, had the eye of every student on me. And I bumped metal chairs around making a lot of racket in a 100% silent room. I got over it, and now I blend. No one notices me at school no one really even listens. That’s why I need a new friend. One that doesn’t exist to anyone else. Almost like I would be schizophrenic. And sometimes I even wish I was, so I could be admitted to a mental hospital and be treated differently. Maybe then someone would listen to me. But that’s a stretch, and I doubt it’ll happen. The incessant cutting didn’t send me there. Plus I’m not schizophrenic.
I need to call Patriarch Graham so that I can get my blessing; it’s what I’ve worked hard for since I was 12. And now I’m 16, and completely ready for it. I kind of want to know what my husband will be like. But it doesn’t tell the future, it’s just a roadmap.
I want an epic love story, but those don’t exist in the real world do they? I want letters not texts, I want walks in the park, and I want someone to fight for me without sounding like an idiot. I want him to be handsome like Cary Grant or even sexy like James Dean. Adorably cute like Rock Hudson works as well. I’m kind of a pathetic little love sap in this sense. Or always am, but then I’m real and don’t ever actually expect stuff like that to happen.
I want to go to a wild party as well. I don’t want to get drunk, but I want to observe human nature. Teenagers in their natural habitat. I almost want a partner in crime to make fun of them with me. But then maybe I could be the one that parties, let’s go of her rules for one night. But that’s ridiculous and not very safe. I like safe.
If someone looked at the wall in my room they could probably figure out exactly what I’m like.
I got my young woman’s medallion today, I’m wearing it right now and listening to Helena Beat by Foster the People. Bandeau is on my right side and I’m not wearing pants.
Well I’m done for tonight.
- Current Location:United States, ,
- Current Mood: anxious
- Current Music:I Feel Like Dancin' - All Time Low
I'm not f-ing around with Friday the 13th ever again.
- Current Music:Teenage Dream - Katy Perry
I would want to be magicked into a time warp with a random hot stranger and as we took on the different times and spaces we'd fall in love, and eventually stop in 1953, where i could be a housewife that baked pies and raised two well behaved boys :D
- Current Location:my bedroom
- Current Mood: calm
- Current Music:Hero/Heroine - Boys Like Girls
i'd bring nothing except for my clothes because i'd play survivor man and live off the land for a week and im sure by the end of it i'd have no clothes left because i either burned them or got mauled by a tiger/walrus hybrid!