Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I learned the truth at thirteen...

I wanted this blog to be about issues, so I am going to tell you about a lesson I learned not too long ago...

For most of my life, I've held on to the same belief most girls have- If we get a boyfriend or fall in love, suddenly, our lives will be perfect and all the little holes in our life will suddenly be filled up with the face of this utterly perfect guy. It doesn't sound unreasonable if you don't think about it. After all, every Hollywood movie tells us so, when the couples get back together no matter what due to the awesome powers of love and their lives are nothing but happy afterwards. By the time I was thirteen I expected to have an amazing boyfriend. I didn't see how ridiculous this was, when I was a social outcast in school and none of my friends were guys. I listen jealously to the popular girls talk about their two week boyfriends and complain about how they were so young when they got their first kiss (only eleven, dear god!). I didn't realize they were victims, too, going from guy to guy so quickly.

Every crush was suddenly the love of my life and I'd pretend he'd like me back, twisting every move into a sign of deep romance, only to move on to someone else. It was fun yet so childish and stupid. Most of the guys in school didn't even notice me or if they did, they thought I was a freak. Maybe in teen movies a girl like me always gets the guy, but those movies are marketed towards freaky chicks who can't get dates; it's not reality.

One day, as I lay on my bed thinking about my crush, it hit me. It was something I thought all girls needed to know:
We were all bimbos:changing ourselves, tugging at our shirts, slathering on make up in colors we disliked all to make some skinny, pubescent, jerkfacish guy fall madly in love with us and thinking somewhere under that pimply skin is a knight in shining armor. There were many girls my age- drop dead gorgeous ones- without boyfriends. A lot of people don't date till their fifteen or sixteen. Most people won't find true love till they reach adulthood; they could be really old when they find it. Yet, most of us expect once we hit puberty, when guys are at their most idiotic point, to find true love. Why? Because we feel we need some guy to make us beautiful. If a guy doesn't tell us, we're ugly. We do this because we expect some miracle to rain down upon us and make our lives perfect. That day I saw the truth. I learned that no guy is the key to happiness; you're the key. We should be happy with ourselves, before we're concerned with what any guy thinks.
I also learned that love is very complicated. There is not just true love or no love between a guy or a girl. And besides that kind of love, there is love of all kinds: for the earth, for friends, for family, for life and these types of love are just as powerful.
Back then, I thought I knew everything, but I guess I don't. I still catch myself acting bimbo-ish sometimes. We all do. But, now, I try a little harder not to.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Urggeee... Just Another Pointless Postage

I don't even like to type, but anything to avoid homework. I'm such a procrastinator. I command myself to get off NOW. no.....now. Seriously,now. Listen to yourself! Now this is just silly. I shan't carry on this way.


Why don't I edit my posts before I publish them?

Why I did it

When I started this blog, I expected to writing about important things (...issues...subjects...), but I'll I do is write short posts in juice bright hues that are filled to the inch with self-absorbed babble about made-up words, combat boots, and why I don't blog too often. None of my friends really know me as as a truly thoughtful person who really cares about major things...the type of person who ponders the mysteries of the world, instead of living trapped in them. It's a side myself of I seldom show and I don't know why. I just don't get the chance, too. I'm very radical thinker ( at least according to myself) and I created this blog to get those thoughts out there. Yet, they are still writhing within me. I can't think of much else needed to be said in this post. Look out for new posts ( perhaps more socially conscious ones)

Saturday, May 23, 2009

My christmas list as of May....

Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmm. Red and Green. Festive?!!!

I already know my christmas list:

Ipod with Itunes giftcard

Vegan Combat Boots

A dress from Modcloth would be nice-ish, too, but I doubt anyone in my family or friends would spend over 50 bucks for dress for me.

I really have to get to my chores. Really, truly. But I'm ace at putting thingypies off.

So thats bye, then, isn't it.


Me-Ictionary Continued

I forgot some words. Oh, the horror! No, not really.
Anyhow-Anyway, here are some additions:

Chapette- female version of chap, isn't it fun to say? Just go "ELLO CHAPETTE!" to a friend in an awful, fake brit accent.

Spork Hoedown- What you'll get for messing with me, which involves multiple stabs with a spork. JK! I'm a very peaceful person. Peace out kiddos, all the way!

Tata and have a wonderful existence!

Monday, May 18, 2009


I make up my own words and phrases so here's a dictionary of me-isms!

Whackmuffin/Whackmuffins- can be an adjective (as in "Are you whackmuffins?) or a noun, describing someone crazy, if you are a whackmuffin with butter, you are extra craxy

Bizkit- bussiness

Sex Bandit- slutty girl who steals all the good guys

Shizzlestix- just me, cutesying up curses, because curses just aren't pretty sounding

Fuxcy- cutesying curses again ( mind you, I hardly ever curse)

Thingette/ Thingypie- thing

Babble-lation- my area of expertise- babbling

Luvvies- little rays of love I send my friends, real friends i.e. not people from the net, also for things I love
ex. "Luvvies for hot chocolate!"
" Luvvies for my bff"
Space Traveling- going off into my imagination

Now, you can understand me!

We go a blogging...

I'm really not one for this whole blogging bizzykit.
I mean you type and then, your hands hurt and read what you wrote and go "oh my god, I'm terribly boring!" But that's not why I don't every single whatsit. It's that:
A. I'm forgetful
B. I'm always tired
C. I have lots of homework
D. I enjoy making up excuses
So that's in case you were wondering!

Saturday, April 4, 2009

A Summer Lullaby

Perhaps, because of school, I always find myself waiting for summer. It lays like a foreign promise on the horizon, from the melodramatic moan of life I find myself trapped within. Summer is so sweet and easy like a kindergarten boyfriend; it lingers in the air like a kiss you can't forget. As the days grow weary and yawn, you can't help but wait for summer to give you it's brief freedom.

Living in a beach town, summer is always more of a vacation for me, than for people in other parts of the world. They come to where I live to experiance every letter of the word: summer. s....the salty brine of water envelopes me as I dive within the ocean, polychromatic goddess that changes from deep blue to the green of a broken beer bottle. When I was younger, i was afraid of the titantic waves, but now I am brave. I hear the tourists scream as they as see an approaching wave; I dive right under the great white curve, dancing with bliss in the womb of the wave. In the water, I experiance a complete happiness. I can't understand people who don't like swimming in the ocean.

u....the rough wood of the boardwalk can be felt under my feet as I walk along. The summer sun caresses my skin, covering it with sensual kisses of golden light. In my hand, cool, dairy ribbons unfurl from cracks of sugar cone-my favorite mint, chocolate chip ice cream. I try to lick it up, before it melts every. I taste the sugary, creamy texture of it on my tongue. Now, the ice cream shop with the odd flavors is open: caramel corn, bacon, georgia peach, african vanilla, a parade of tastes from eccentric to gourmet to classic. A seagull flys off with a french fry, gawking happily and begging the naive tourist who fed him for more. I am as happy as that bird, today.

m... this is what the fragrant and kindred spirit of summer is all about: the sun tanning your legs, the cotton of tee shirts stitched into your side, pink juice running down your face as you eat wedges of watermelon on the porch, falling in love and getting your heart broken. Today, I will ride the ferris wheel and hope that I get the seat with the silver roof. As it swoops up in the air, I see the ocean spread out, below. I scream as loud as I can and reach out my feet to see if I can touch the bushes, below. This is the closest I'll get to flying.

m...I spend a lot of time at my grandmother's house in the tranquility of the seaside. These will be the idyllic memories of my childhood. No one will bother me. I make friends with a girl at the beach, just for a day. I'll fall in love with a guy at the beach, just for an hour. I climb a tree to the highest spot and take in the sea breeze. Then, I go home and watch a classic movie. Every morning, my grandmother (the reason I hate IHOP) makes us homemade pancakes with Jiffy mix. I'll eat about ten.

m...book pages turn and summer days come and go. I'll explore my grandmother's attic and find the old oujjia board, that told her exactly who she would marry. Maybe, I'm home. I'll go for a bike ride or invite a friend to the neighboorhood pool. I'll duck under when horse flys land on my head. Then, me and my friend will walk home, reeking of chlorine and talkiong about guys we like, who will never like us back.

e...I'll rock'n roll. I'll sing in the heat and wear fishnets under my denim bermuda shorts. I'll fall in love will a guy who won't even notice. I'll spend all year hoping, wishing, waiting. Next summer, he is gone. In a day, I won't remember why I liked him.

r...these are my cherished summers. I have always said Spring and Fall are my favorite months, but summer is my refuge. I will always long for summer. But for now, I open my textbook and my fingers run together in sunshiny memories

Saturday, March 28, 2009

So I'm starting a blog....obviously

I'm writing to you in fire-hot lipstick red. It's a daring, confident color and completely matches how I feel, as of the moment. Afterall, I'm doing something I never thought I'd do (write a blog). I've been doing a lot of that, lately.
In the past, I was opposed to blogging, because it was way to personal for me. I already keep a diary. I seriously can't believe I'm hear, sitting here in a satin slip, smellin of musk perfume, typing out these roses of words- blooms of emotion, philosophy, artistic passion. However, I have vowed to myself never to dicuss any detail to private for the whole world to hear (or at least who ever ventures upon this blog.)
God, I sound so effin formal. How ironic for someone like me! I'm eccentric for heaven sakes- a happy-go-lucky, spurr of the moment type chapette. This post is altogether boring me. I better stop rattling off before the world explodes.