Well, here we are. My mother and I, off on a wild adventure. An hour and a half drive. In the car. Alone. With my mother. BESTROADTRIPEVER!!!!
Soundtrack: razia's shadow. :-*
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, February 17, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Life is mellow in the great land of Izzania. Well, of course it would be mellow if the izzanians would make up their minds. It's either "Oh no, I'm so lonely! I need someone to snuggle with," or "why am I getting close to you? I don't even like you that much," The latter thought snuck into my mind when I was hanging out with pocket over the weekend. He's just so easy to lead on, because he's always there. I feel so empowered that I can just snap my fingers and his heart would be a little dead puddle on the floor. Oh, I'm so bad! I've never quite felt the thrill of malice.
I just adore the problems one creates for oneself. It's all in the mind, I assure you, we're just too caught up in the excitement that we don't care to look at the bigger picture. I rejoice in this mess of overdramatic partying, mostly because I told myself I wouldn't get mixed up in such petty things, but now I understand why people purposely throw themselves into the skirmishes that take place every which way. It fills the days. Days of which I've spent glaring at mr. Brown who thinks he has the audacity to go out with my "Jane," she's had three boyfriends since summer ended and it's driving me up the wall. And it doesn't help to know that "Marcus" and miss Gracey are having a wonderful time.
Speaking of "Marcus," I had the most nicest conversation with him while walking to my mother's automobile. Once when I passed him on such a trip he simply made a face at me and made me laugh, but this time, this time he said, "hey,"
And I responded with a "hey," back. He asked me how it was going and I told him it was going good. He then proceeded to inform me about how much he liked my purple sneakers and socks with rainbow dragonflies on them. I might've exploded just a little, and not just in my heart.
On the other side of my brain is D, who has finally confessed his feelings for me and told me he can't be with me because I could do so much better and that he is jealous of himself and wants to wage . . war . . . Against himself? something like that. The prick can't make up his mind and yet he has me Melting at the knees. Funny, I distinctly recall typing that I couldn't make up my mind either. How alike we are, it was destined to be. I just have to nag some more courage into the boy and he'll be stuck with me forever. The happiness fountain won't stop gushing!!
Now to more medically important matters. It seems that screaming at your glee club cause you to lose your voice in such a way that your director won't let you perform your lines during your one scene in the rehearsals for west side story. Huh, who knew right? My remedy is gulping down flavored acids, eating ice cream, and carrying around a whiteboard so I don't have to talk to people. Oh how I hate people, they are all after my oboe I know it!
Now before you suggest it, yes, I have thought about therapy. Until next time my little doves :-*
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I just adore the problems one creates for oneself. It's all in the mind, I assure you, we're just too caught up in the excitement that we don't care to look at the bigger picture. I rejoice in this mess of overdramatic partying, mostly because I told myself I wouldn't get mixed up in such petty things, but now I understand why people purposely throw themselves into the skirmishes that take place every which way. It fills the days. Days of which I've spent glaring at mr. Brown who thinks he has the audacity to go out with my "Jane," she's had three boyfriends since summer ended and it's driving me up the wall. And it doesn't help to know that "Marcus" and miss Gracey are having a wonderful time.
Speaking of "Marcus," I had the most nicest conversation with him while walking to my mother's automobile. Once when I passed him on such a trip he simply made a face at me and made me laugh, but this time, this time he said, "hey,"
And I responded with a "hey," back. He asked me how it was going and I told him it was going good. He then proceeded to inform me about how much he liked my purple sneakers and socks with rainbow dragonflies on them. I might've exploded just a little, and not just in my heart.
On the other side of my brain is D, who has finally confessed his feelings for me and told me he can't be with me because I could do so much better and that he is jealous of himself and wants to wage . . war . . . Against himself? something like that. The prick can't make up his mind and yet he has me Melting at the knees. Funny, I distinctly recall typing that I couldn't make up my mind either. How alike we are, it was destined to be. I just have to nag some more courage into the boy and he'll be stuck with me forever. The happiness fountain won't stop gushing!!
Now to more medically important matters. It seems that screaming at your glee club cause you to lose your voice in such a way that your director won't let you perform your lines during your one scene in the rehearsals for west side story. Huh, who knew right? My remedy is gulping down flavored acids, eating ice cream, and carrying around a whiteboard so I don't have to talk to people. Oh how I hate people, they are all after my oboe I know it!
Now before you suggest it, yes, I have thought about therapy. Until next time my little doves :-*
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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