Restraining Order

So have you ever wondered what it's like to be the person whom a really popular and catchy song is about? I hadn't until last night when, after listening to a cover of "Grenade" by my favorite cover band Karmin, I was like "I wonder how this girl feels about this song and if this is even how it really happened..." Which got me thinking, I could make a parody writing the girl's feelings to Bruno Mars. And so "Restraining Order" came to life. Considering I wrote it at like 12:30 in the morning, it sounded a bit weird, but after a few times of singing it I'm pretty damn proud. Plus I fit the word "rape-y" in there. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!? Anyways, I just thought I'd let you guys know and in a few weeks, if all goes well with song editing and progress, there will be an official music video for "Restraining Order" and it will be awesome.

But really, I kind of imagine the first time she heard it being like, "Dammit! He said he was going to let it go!!" And for another thing, how about Rihanna's "Only Girl In The World"? If a guy wrote that, there'd be something very wrong with him, but since RIHANNA wrote it, it's obviously musical gold. Oh wait...

Not to be in ANY way at all in Chris Brown's defense for what he did to Rihanna, because that was obviously completely wrong and NOT okay. BUT he did treat her like the only girl in the world. And since there was only ONE girl, he was bound to have so much pent up rage that he couldn't take out on random hookers that didn't matter, his actions were forced upon her. NOT RAPE.

So guess who's leaving in two days!?!? ME. Guess who's super excited!? ME. Guess who has rabies?! ME!....wait, no I don't!!! I swear! But I'm excited one, because this is my first plane ride since 6th grade, and I love planes, so this is going to be awesome. Second, I got window seats on every single one of my flights SCORE. And finally in an unrelated but totally awesome anyway note, there is a ninth season of RVB and it's AWESOME. There's only two episodes, but every Monday I will be waiting eagerly for the next installment.

You'd figure there's something wrong with a 16 year old girl to do nothing but sit at the computer in anticipation for an episode of guys in their 30s voicing over a game of Halo Reach. ....I'M NOT UGLY I SWEAR!! Video games and nerdy stuff like machinima is sexy, right? RIGHT?!?!! Which is another point in why I've only ever had two whole boyfriends in the history of my entire life. Nice.

So some weird things I notice:

I WILL notice if you have really soft and plush-y toilet paper. I don't know why, but I find that to be the greatest. If you have super soft toilet paper, you're obviously going to find a cure for Ebola Aids.

That being said, I will NOT notice if you don't have super nice toilet paper. Mostly because at my house, we don't because we're poor and cheap.

Examples:

1. At the shore house in Sea Isle that my whole family has, the family that doesn't live there in the summer, leaves really nice quilted super soft toilet paper. I proceeded to wash my hands and run out of the bathroom with the roll in my hands and shoving it in everyone's face going "FEEL HOW SOFT IT IS!!!!!!!!!!"

2. My cousin's house where I babysit. I proceeded to tell the kids I was babysitting the importance of really soft toilet paper. You probably didn't need to know that.

3. Octodad's house. Octodad is my ex-boyfriend, but we're still good friends. He was boyfriend 2. Anyways, the first time I go over Octodad's house (and the only time I've ever been there) I had to go to the bathroom halfway through our kind of date/hanging out. Once in the bathroom I noticed that they had REALLY soft toilet paper. That being said, I REALLY liked Octodad and did not want him to think I was a freak who was obsessed with really soft toilet paper. So instead of running down the stairs and screaming "YOUR TOILET PAPER IS SO SOFT!" as I normally would, I walked down sulkily and fidgeted around, trying to fight the voice screaming in my head to proclaim the glory of that soft toilet paper. I really have problems.

You may be wondering why I call boyfriend 2 Octodad. This goes back to this past December. When I went for an early eye exam to see if it was the cause of my migraines, I had an eye ultrasound. Apparently my eyes were having twins. HOW COULD I NOT HAVE KNOWN?!??! Anyways, that's not the point. The point is, that a few weeks later Octodad went for his eye exam and we found out that he was having octuplets. Hence, how he became known to me as Octodad.

Boyfriend 2 and I could have worked out if I wasn't bad at relationships, but alas, we are now just friends. Which is cool and all because he's a great person and really fun to talk to. I'm very good at friendships. But relationships, with FEELINGS, I'm like a drunken baby driving a Tonka Truck straight into the oven. Because when things that involve feelings come into my life something like this happens:

"hey this is pretty nice...feelings...not sure how I feel about this...this is getting weird...GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!!!"

This usually has nothing to do with the other person, except for boyfriend 1, it kind of had to do with him. But I don't know, I'm not good with girl things and that means feelings and emotions and all that gooey sappy stuff that I like to stab every day with a butcher knife and then laugh as their feeble and dying bodies shrivel up and turn to ashes.....Okay that was more graphic than I intended, but you get my point.

So that's about it for now. I'll keep you updated on whether I die or not during my flight, hopefully Samuel L. Jackson will just fly in and save me though. And I'll keep you updated on "Restraining Order"s progress. I hope you guys are having a great summer.

Questionable Reasoning

So guess what? I'm moving! Just kidding, but I am going on vacation for a few weeks. I get to go across the country YAY TRAVELING! So as I believe I have mentioned before, I live in Pennsylvania. (I realize this is basically asking scary people to find me, but it's okay because I have a secret team of pirates that are ready to stab people at moment's notice, YEAH) The vacation that I am going on involves a trip to visit my family in Oregon. For those of you, like me, that are wizards at finding states and capitals on maps, you can skip this next part. But for those of you, like the other half of me, that either your attention span is too short to pay attention to such unimportant details or you just don't really care because you already got an award for knowing where everything was in the US in 5th grade, this may help.

Above is a roughly drawn scale of my travel plans. NO it's not a deformed crab or birth defected elephant. It's proof that I can't draw for my life, but I DO roughly know the general shape of my own country. YAY MEMORY! So despite the fact that I will probably sit next to creepy strangers that are interested in everything I do and I'll most likely get lost on the way from my first terminal after my first flight to the second one and I'll forever be stranded in San Francisco (not a totally bad thing), I'm pretty damn excited.

See, the last time I saw said family members, I was going through my "awkward" stage. Unfortunately this stage never really ended for me, but at that point I kinda just didn't care how I looked no matter how ugly it was. I also had bangs. I HATE BANGS. Not on other people, on other people they look awesome, but on me, since my hair is really curly, they just end up looking like devil horns. And adding my short fuse and the fact that I bathe in sarcasm, you can see how this turned out. I made you another picture to demonstrate.

As you can see, things have gone downhill for me since 6th grade. But nevertheless despite the fact that 12 year old me was quite the catch, I've also remembered that considering that I've significantly changed since then, my younger cousins who were at the most 7 or 8 are now entering the dreaded years of teen-dom. Weird. But it's pretty exciting and the main reason for this post was to let everyone know (pretty much that one person that stumbled upon this blog by accident) that I'm not positive of the internet situation down there, so I'm going to make a couple more posts this week just in case there's no computer access at all.

That's pretty much it. I hope you summer lovers are enjoying this god forsaken heat we've been getting everywhere. I can't wait for winter.

Why People Think I Have a Calcium Deficiency (Part 1)

I do not have a calcium deficiency. I wanted to state that before starting this post. Mostly because this post is about how I broke 3 of my bones, and how I broke 1 of them 3 times in the span of two years. I'm so serious.

So we'll start with my earliest and first break ever. My left elbow. When most people hear that I broke this bone they usually presume that it was from some freak sports accident, a car accident, or some other life threatening cause. This is not the case. I broke my elbow jumping off...are you ready? A swing. An average park swing.

It was the summer of third grade. Earlier this year we had gone to Disney Land... or World. Whichever one is in Florida. I always get those mixed up. Kind of like N' Synch and The Backstreet Boys.

Like I was saying, it was a pretty average day. Probably early July, before the 4th. In a moment you'll know why I knew this. So me, my brother, and my two favorite cousins were at my grandmother's house. Probably for some family thing. There was (and still is) a super awesome park at the top of the street. We kids decided to go there. And since this park was super awesome it had swings. Because parks without swings are depressing. Like pie without apples.

So we all piled onto the swings and tried to see who could go the highest. At some point we decided this was boring and everyone jumped off their swing. Except me. I kept on swinging as the figures of my brother and cousins began to fade into the tunneled slides. I was alarmed that I was being left behind, but had no idea how to jump off a swing properly. Because to eight year old me, for some reason jumping off a swing was the most complicated task in the world.

See now here's where I'm not quite sure why what happened, happened. I began to contemplate jumping. I even slowed the pumping of my legs so that I wasn't so high. But when I jumped, something obviously short circuited in my brain. Because while I was in the air momentarily, I celebrated a bit too early. "Holy crap I did it! I jumped! Without dying!" Not quite.

As I began to fall I did not think to position myself so that I would land gracefully like a cat on my feet. Instead I just began flailing my limbs. When I hit the ground, I fell in a crumpled heap. All 100 pounds (or however much I weighed back then because I was stick straight skinny before I hit 13) fell on my bent left arm. I heard a crunch and immediately started wailing.

Apparently my brother and cousins thought I was faking because after sitting and crying on the ground for five to ten minutes I had to pick my broken self up and go find them. When they saw my dirtied figure and crying face we all walked home. Luckily my aunt/godmother who was a nurse was there. She had me move my arm in certain directions and asked me to push her away and pull her arm closer with my hand. I didn't see what this had to do with my elbow, but I did it anyway. I was upset when I failed to move it much.

However since I had some range of movement and had stopped crying and reduced myself to occasional whimpering, she said that my elbow probably wasn't broken, but instead severely bruised. Despite the fact, it was awkward now and everyone felt bad that there wasn't anything they could do. I'm pretty sure my mother felt the worst because this was the first time this had happened to her children. Nevertheless to her youngest and only daughter. I'm pretty sure she felt like a failure.

To make up for this, I got ice cream on the way home. To me, this seemed like a great outcome. I was beginning to think that maybe getting hurt wasn't so bad. Unfortunately the small dose of children's Tylenol wore off in a few hours and around 10 or 11 pm my pain had escalated to a point where I felt I needed immediate medical attention. Since this was the first time her children had an injury that she couldn't cure, my mother rushed me to the ER at our local hospital. My brother was about 11 at the time and he came as well.

As soon as we entered the ER I realized that it was a mistake. The florescent bulbs were killing my tired eyes, the TVs were blaring different stations, almost everyone was crying, and it was as packed as a Krispy Kreme opening day. As my mother began to fill out the tedious forms, a man who had been shot in the face was rushed in. Immediately I felt my pain was insignificant and tugged at my mother's arm and begged her to go home. Unfortunately we had already been put on the waiting list 15 minutes earlier and about twenty people had arrived since then. My mom asked me if I thought I could sleep with the pain. We ended up staying.

About two hours later we were brought back, but we had to wait for a doctor. So we all stood in the slightly less busy hallway near the closed off curtains of patient beds. There was a wheelchair nearby. I had wanted to sit in and roll around in a wheelchair my whole life. But my pain and the fact that I was terrified for my life led me to just stand with my mother and hold her hand. Seizing the opportunity, however, my brother immediately sat down in the chair and began moving around. Eventually he fell asleep in it.

I began to doze off leaning against my mother only to be promptly awakened by some lady screaming bloody murder. I looked to where the screaming was coming from and found the curtained room about three rooms away. The lady sounded like she was dying. Then A LOT of liquid splashed on the ground. Back then I thought that she had died and all of her internal organs had just fallen on the ground. Considering that her screaming continued, that probably should have clicked in my brain that my idea was flawed, but it didn't. I know now that she was having a baby. Why she was having it in the emergency room I still don't know.

A good three hours after we had arrived at the ER we finally were called back by a doctor. The doctor showed me that stupid pain chart that does not accurately display pain at all. To see an example of the stupid pain chart and the pain chart that I should've received, go here. So it was about 1 in the morning, I was 8 and scared and this was my first time ever that I was put under pressure to describe exactly how I felt. I'm pretty sure they thought I was faking because I was like "umm I think it's 7, no, wait, am I describing how much pain I AM in or how much pain I'm NOT in? Mom?" So on the pain chart that the amazing Allie Brosh, author of Hyperbole and a Half, mad, which should be adopted by all medical facilities in the world, my pain was probably a 5.

The doctor had me do the same things my aunt had me do. Except this time I was positive someone thought I was faking, so I may have exaggerated...but only a little, I swear. Obviously concerned with my inability to do simple actions like bend my elbow (maybe a little isn't the right phrase...) so I got to get my first x-rays ever. To say I expected more would be putting it lightly. The x-ray room was basically supposed to look like the inside of a UFO. Instead it looked like some weird room in which I had to wear this really heavy bib thing. I didn't understand their explanation at the time and just presumed that I looked like someone who drooled constantly and apparently this bib was going to solve my slobbering problems.

I could never be an x-ray specialist. I would love to, but I could not stand to make someone place the arm or other body part in painful manner just to get a good x-ray. Apparently the x-ray lady didn't care about that. She told me to sit down and place my arm on the table. I did and felt accomplished. "This is easy!" I thought. "I'll be better by morning!" This was not the case. From the casual position on the table this lady proceeded to twist my elbow in a direction that it should not bend and told me I had to hold it there "or else..." I'm not kidding, that's really what she said.

The whimpering was back now and I looked at my mother with a scared expression. She just held my hand and hugged me. After the terrible expedition of x-rays was over we were told, after another half hour wait, that there was nothing wrong with me and we could go home. I couldn't believe it. What do you mean NOTHING'S WRONG?!?! There is obviously something wrong because my arm feels like it's bleeding pain. Or acid.

So my mother, still hurt from her failure to protect me, made an appointment with an arm specialist. We went to the arm specialist with our x-rays and waited. This wait took less time. In about an hour we were called back into a room with walls covered in posters of diseases and a full skeleton. I was excited. I touched the skeleton. A piece fell off. I quickly sat back down an didn't mention it. Soon two doctors came in. They set up my x-rays and turned a switch that made the film glow. They pointed out that my bone was not fully broken, but only broken halfway through and that the tissue around it was thoroughly bruised.

I was ecstatic at the fact that I had not once been called a liar yet. This doctor was awesome! Then came the next news. "We're going to put you in a cast for 2 weeks." Wait...what? B-b-but we're going down the shore in three days! My mother quickly spoke up, "Could we get a waterproof cast? We're going on vacation in a few days." The doctor acted like this request was average. "Sure! Pick out your color and we'll be right back in." I hopped off the table (because I was shorter than I am today, which is 5' 1 and 3/4") and looked at the boxes with all the different color palettes on them. I could have anything from white to florescent orange to pink or blue! Unfortunately I was not into girly colors, I knew I couldn't keep anything white for longer than five minutes, and black was boring. So I played it safe and got a cerulean color.

This cast was the cast of many soon to be casts. FOREVER. Just kidding. But having a plastic bag over your arm at the beach makes you look pretty dumb. I had fun down the shore despite the constant itch from sand that somehow mad it passed my plastic bag guard. When we got back from the shore it was time to get my cast off. Now getting your cast off for the first time is a frightening experience. Mostly because the people drag over a miniature chain saw and begin to place the blade on your cast and cut through it, sending plaster dust into your eyes and all over your clothes. AND NOTHING GETS IT OFF. However, the person taking my cast off forgot to tell me that the blade stopped when it touched skin, so I sat there the entire time waiting for my healed arm to fall off.

I was a bit upset that my arm smelled horrible and that it was much paler than my other tan arm. Also, it was stiff. BUT I had my arm back to myself and when you're 8, two weeks is like a lifetime. I was SUPPOSED to go the physical therapy, but instead I went outside and played with my brother. That was the beginning of many physical therapies that I just kind of ignored. And because my mother felt bad for not protecting me from the pain in the first place, when I said I didn't want to go to physical therapy, she didn't push the issue. That was a BIG mistake.

So that was my first adventure in breaking bones. If I only knew that I'd be injured again in only six months.

My House is Where Flies Come to Die

Flies, I would like to know what looks so enticing about my house. There are no prospective dirty foods or rancid smells that you seem to enjoy so much. There are no animals. My parents are clean freaks. I do not think that the heat/cold bothers you considering if there was a dead body outside, you would rejoice about your new toy/food. Honestly flies, do you even eat? I feel like you just fly around making that really annoying buzzing sound and just look for something to land on and get all of your potentially STD covered feet on.

Also, flies have you ever noticed that when one of you comes into my house, they never EVER come back out? I thought you'd be more concerned about Jerry and why he hasn't come home in three days. Obviously you never thought of the fact that he is DEAD. Jerry, like all other flies, sped into the shelter of our comfy home. But what seemed like a quaint place to look for dead things, turned into a nightmare. The doors and windows were all closed. There was no fresh air, no way out. No matter how many times he smashed himself into the window in a futile attempt to escape, Jerry could not find one.

Hours began to pass and Jerry no longer denied his fate. So he just perched on the window, looking outside in a sad acknowledgement that he would never feel the wind again.I went to sleep and woke up the next morning to an empty and quiet house. I went through the house, trying to find the window that Jerry had been perching on to try but alas, he was nowhere to be found. Apparently one of Jerry's friends became concerned and entered the house of doom earlier today. I do not know how long his friend has been searching, but by the time I discovered his presence, he was already downtrodden. He had figured out Jerry's fate. That same fate that was now staring him down.

I tried to help Jerry's friend. Before I go any further, I must state that I absolutely loathe flies. I don't see their purpose other than to be food for other insects and to give a reason for a fly swatter to be invented even though everyone just uses them as backscratchers. I hate flies. I really don't know why, but they just skeeve me out. Especially when it's really quiet and they just buzz right by you all of a sudden. It makes me have goosebumps and uncomfortable skin pricks for ten minutes. I mostly hate flies because from a distance I can't tell whether they're flies or bees or other things that could bite me and possibly give me things like Lyme disease.

So like I was saying, I tried to help his friend out. I opened up windows where he could potentially find a way out through a crevice (do flies even have skeletons?) or some other thing. Or die. Because for some reason when I lock flies in the space between the screen and the window they apparently have panic attacks and die or suffer some weird lack of oxygen and die. That last one doesn't even make sense, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with breathing. Anyways, despite my utter kindness, the fly still persists to find his/her own way out. I might just end it all and make it easier on everyone.

Today I had another tutor come over to give me one of my final exams. She proceeded to nonchalantly walk around my house, eat her weird pasta salad noisily, and spill her diet coke all over our dining room table. I'm not exactly positive if my test is really going to make it back to the school in tact.

Have you ever had that one food that you pretty much NEED to have around in a plentiful amount 24/7? I have. It's strawberries. I'm pretty sure if it was possible to marry strawberries, I would elope with them. There may be that slight issue of cannibalism, but it's not my fault that they taste SO DELICIOUS. Suck on that Dora.

R.I.P. JERRY THE FLY you will be missed. not really. we all actually kinda hated you. awkward.

Socks

So the other day my Spanish tutor came to my house to teach my Spanish. Normally this would not be exciting or entertaining whatsoever because this lady is very boring and a horrible teacher. Not this time.

This time, it was very funny and entertaining.

Unfortunately my Spanish teacher arrived too early. This normally wouldn't have bothered me. Mostly because we usually freak clean the house so she won't judge us the night before. However, this time, I had be really really tired the night before and promptly decided that I would clean when I woke up. I was supposed to wake up at 9:30. I actually woke up at like 1:30. Normally, this would be awesome, because sleep is great. But this day I still had to finish at least two hours worth of work plus eat meals and take my bunnies out for an hour of playtime. All of this had to occur before Spanish teacher came.

Usually, Spanish teacher comes around the times of 3:30 and 4:30. For some reason, my teacher arrived at 3:00. I had just put away my bunnies. I had not, however, cleaned. So we walk in and go to the dining room where my learning materials are. However (this is like my word of the day) where Spanish teacher would sit there happened to be a pair of socks. They were clean socks, but they were just chillin' on the table where her stuff went.

So she looks at me and goes, "calcetines?" and I, having suddenly forgotten my Spanish 1 vocabulary go, "socks." She looks at me strangely and goes, "calcetines?" and I'm like, "no socks." And this woman was adamant because she looked at me again and went, "Tus calcetines?" and I'm angry now and I go "NO, SOCKS. S-O-C-K-S. SOCKS."

By this time my teacher finally realized that I could not remember that "calcetines" meant socks in Spanish. Needless to say, she didn't stay very long. She looked at me strangely for about five minutes without saying anything. Then she handed me my papers and left.

My dad comes upstairs and he's like "who were you yelling at?" So I tell him what happened and he's like "Jess, calcetines means socks." I stood there red faced and angry. "SO WHY WOULDN'T SHE JUST ADMIT THAT SHE WAS WRONG?!!?" I'm not really sure why I got so upset over this, but I was determined to prove that somehow my teacher was wrong in the situation. I'm pretty sure my father is now ashamed of me considering he is from El Salvador and his own daughter can't say "socks" in Spanish without having a brain seizure.

I'm pretty sure my Spanish teacher isn't coming back anymore.

This sounds less funny than it actually was, because looking back on it, it was hilarious. I'm probably going to fail Spanish 2 now, but I'm pretty sure it was totally worth it. That's all.

This was Only Supposed to be a Short Recap

You can totally skip this and not read it. This was supposed to be a post about the funniest thing that happened between me and my Spanish tutor today, but I got sidetracked. Only read this if you want to know why I'm sick and not going to school. This is not very funny at all whatsoever but it has it's moments. I think it's lively. But seriously just skip it, I promise it won't hurt my feelings. Also this is EXTREMELY LONG, sorry about that. You can skip to about 3/4ths of the way down and there should be an actual short recap of what this whole post was about in about two paragraphs if you really wanna know but don't have the time. You probably don't. I wouldn't. 

So as I've mentioned earlier I have tutors come to my house. I don't think I really explained why exactly that happens. So here's a short recap on something I've probably never fully explained.

Around the beginning of August of 2010 I began to get daily headaches. Like right out of the blue. Well not right out of the blue, but it came from a generally blue like area. I had been really sick during the whole summer because I'd gotten Mononucleosis in May of last year. I know what you're thinking "I bet she kisses ALL the boys." No. That statement is entirely false. But I've heard it so much from anybody who's heard this story that I'm no longer angry about it. No, I got mono from sharing a water bottle in gym class. But I'm not really sure you can call it "sharing" when the other person(s) just takes your water bottle when your not looking and dumps all of their diseased saliva on it and then NEVER TELLS YOU. Thanks.

Anyways, if you don't know what mono is or you've never had it, mono is basically mini cancer. Except you can survive it. But it's basically cancer. It NEVER leaves your system, even after you're done with that whole terrible month or two months of practically dying. Mono's like "hmm it's been about a month and this place is getting kind of old and I'm tired of fighting off all these antibodies. I know what I'll do...I'll just stop being harmful and just absorb myself into the system. And this will be my home. FOREVER. And I'll spread my demon spawn babies whenever this person gets a fever and shares drinks/saliva with other people. AND THEN WE'LL TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!"

I wish I was joking, but that's the monologue I repeated in my head for about five months AFTER the mono bastard of a disease sunk its way into my immune system. So anyways, mono. It basically happened like this: I was at school one day and I was like "my throat's been killing me for a month now, I BET IT'S CANCER" Because whenever anything seems to be moderately wrong with me and can't be diagnosed, to me, it's cancer. Which is stupid because cancer is obviously diagnosed at some point. By the way, I'm still holding out that these headaches are the beginning of brain cancer. Just saying.

But so I'd been to the doctor a few days before and they concluded that I did not have strep throat but sent off my lovely saliva/disease/shit that was on my throat off to a lab to be cultured and tested for other diseases. Just as I whip out my phone my mother calls me. This is convenient because she was who I had planned to call. As a side note, when I'd been at the doctors and described my symptoms as: sleepy, sleepy, really painful sore throat, sleepy and headaches, she was like "oh it's probably mono, you know, the kissing disease" and then she gives me this weird look that I'm sure was supposed to mean something but because I'm really bad at being a girl and understanding girl things I just sat there with my head tilted to the side in confusion and looked at my mom and begged her to tell me what the lady said.

So after we established that I had not kissed anyone ever, we left in high hopes that it was cancer. Just kidding, we hoped it was just a bad virus. Now as another side note, I would just like to state that before I got diagnosed with mono, which is coming up, I had the best immune system in the whole world. Once a year for about two or three days I would get one, really bad sickness. Now this sickness could range from the flu to a stomach virus to strep throat in which I can't swallow which is almost as bad as a stomach virus where my mother starves me so that I stop puking and damaging my internal organs. But nevertheless, after the two or three days were over, I'd have a two day recovery period. I really only needed one day, but I took two, just to be sure. And then for the rest of the year I was totally 100% healthy.

So I answer the phone and instead of being greeted with the usual "hey, how was your day?" I was instead greeted with "guess who has mono?" Now obviously this isn't something you should tell you teenage daughter who thinks that any disease that isn't common to her is cancer. But that's how I found out. And I proceeded to freak out and look around nervously like some giant death bomb was going to be thrown at me because I'd been diagnosed with "The Kissing Disease." So I go home and crawl into bed for my routine nap. I usually don't take naps, but mono makes naps seem like the greatest things in the whole world. Naps are basically Jesus. And if Jesus came down, right then and there and offered to take all your troubles and pains away and give you the greatest life ever and you had to choose between Jesus and Naps, Jesus would lose.

The bad thing about these naps that I would take, however, was that when I would wake up (I came home at like 3ish) it would be about 7. But since you're terribly sick with some brain numbing disease you freak out because, since all the blinds are closed, you think it's 7 AM instead of PM and wonder why in God's name no one woke you for school. So you run down stairs, proud of yourself that you miraculously fell asleep in school clothes (nice one brain) and run into the living room shouting about how you're going to be late and that you need a ride NOW.

And then you see your mother curled up on the couch with a blanket and ice cream watching Nurse Jackie and your brother on his laptop on the other couch. Both are staring at you like you have cancer. And so a part of you starts freaking out because their looks obviously confirmed your fear that you have cancer and that you only have a week to live and there's so much you haven't done. Unfortunately you don't realize that in your horror you've slowly and begun saying "noooooo" and now it's really loud and you're about to cry. So now your mother is frantically trying to calm you down as you cry about how you're not ready to die and that you need to travel to see the world in the next week before you die or you'll go to hell.

Mother is worried and does not know what to say. And now you're crying about how you're even going to be late for school on the day you got diagnosed with cancer and the world is ending. Then everything in mother's head clicks and makes sense. "Sweetie, what are you talking about. You're not late for school. You came home four hours ago, it's nighttime." And as you finally take notice of your surroundings you realize that it is indeed darkish out and you realize that you DID go to school and aren't going to be late. But you're suspicious, so you stop crying and look confusedly at her and go, "So I don't have cancer?" And then everybody laughs at you and you feel a great weight lifted off your chest and what is a better way to celebrate this miracle than to go take another nap.

This happened about twice a week. I'm not joking. So number one, mono makes you tired as shit. It's like some little gremlin creeps into your room each night and uses some magical didgeridoo to suck all of your energy and life away from you so that you wake up in the morning unrefreshed and still tired despite the fact that you got like 15 hours of sleep. You want to sleep ALL THE TIME. Eating breakfast? How about a quick nap. Lunch? I'll eat up in my bed. Dinner? I just stopped eating dinner and woke up with hunger pangs in the morning.

As if the tiredness isn't bad enough, your throat WILL hurt. I'm not saying it hurts ridiculously bad, mine didn't, but it doesn't feel like a normal, healthy throat. Also, you develop what is apparently a "sexy voice" to your boyfriend at the time. Maybe that's why you broke up with him. Anyways, but if you want a perk I guess there's one. It wasn't a sexy voice, it was pretty much that sandpaper-y voice that you get when you're REALLY REALLY REALLY tired and all you want to do is sleep but boyfriend keeps calling you and demands to talk to you for hours and so you probably fall asleep during a rant of his but wake up in time to say goodnight.

Mono makes it hard to focus. I now know why kids who get mono just don't come to school for two weeks. I, on the other hand, was forced by my mother and my goddamn brain to go to school on the days that I wasn't completely dying, but only partially dying. On these days I usually fell asleep in class and got zero assignments done. I'm pretty sure I gave all my teachers another reason to hate freshmen.

Finally school ended and soon mono released my from it deathly clutches only to throw me into a pit of constant sickness. And see, here's the thing, mono symptoms don't just stop. Like it's not like one day you wake up and you're like "I FEEL INVINCIBLE!!" No. You wake up each day and slowly you are less tired, but that doesn't mean you take less naps. And your headaches slowly stop happening like every time the medicine you took wears off. And eventually one day you're like "I don't NEED constant naps, but I'm totally going to still take them until I stop feeling like this. Finally two months later (July-ish) you're like "I'M ALMOST NORMAL!!!" And you celebrate, because you're down the shore and you're going to the beach and getting a tan and reading books because you can actually focus!

But then in two weeks it's August, and one day you're just watching TV and suddenly you get this headache. And you're like, it's probably nothing and you take some Motrin or Tylenol and continue watching TV. The headache goes away in time and you're fine. But then the next day you have another headache, and this one's worse than that one you had yesterday and this time the pain meds don't really help as much. And this cycle continues until one day about a week later, you have constant headaches that are 24/7 (I say that because when I say "constant" people still ask me if I was ever "headache free." Apparently people don't know what the true meaning of "constant" is.)

So you go to sleep with a headache and then wake up with the same headache and you've even upgraded to Excedrin Migraine, but alas, nothing is working. The pediatrician has also diagnosed you with strep throat. So suddenly you're happy, because in your head you're like "this is only because of a virus. when the virus goes away, so will the headaches!" and you get really excited. You finally come to the day when you take your last steroid (no, I don't play sports, and even if I did, I doubt that having a lot of muscle would help my coordination. I'm pretty sure I would just injure people more than I already do) but these are medical steroids that don't give you moon face and beards. YAY! You're a little concerned, because the headaches haven't really improved, but you're positive that all it will take is this last pill and tomorrow everything will be all smiles and sunshine.

You were wrong. Your throat feels much better and you can talk without coughing up a fit every two seconds. But the headaches are still there. Now we're about the 3rd week of August. Last year there were five weeks in August because two were half weeks. Anyways, you're getting concerned, because you convinced your mother to drive you up to Reading, which is a good two hours away, with your best friend to go see your favorite band of all time live at the 2010 Uproar Festival. You know that if you tell mother that you're not getting better she'll cancel this. But this is basically the greatest event of your whole life. But you can't lie either, because if this gets worse, then she won't take you seriously and you'll die of something like cancerous aids.

So instead of lying or telling her, you just don't tell her anything and slowly the days that count up the concert are less and less and soon it's two days before the concert. You've by now been diagnosed by what it most likely just Viral triggered migraines that will go away on their own. You're still taking Excedrin even though it doesn't do much for you, not because you're a drug addict, but because it does more than what regular pain meds do. So you dress up and head out for the best concert of your life. Which it was. It was fucking awesome. But you also are forced to leave early. Avenged was not the headliner, they were co-headlining because of Jimmy's recent death. So after their set it done, you've done enough screaming/singing and headbanging to call up an 8/10 headache. This is not good. You've already taken Excedrin and have nothing left. So you stay for a few Disturbed songs and then decide that their seizure inducing lights and headbanging rhythms are probably making things worse. So since you don't want another visit to the emergency room, you peel out. Best Friend doesn't mind because she really only wanted to see Avenged as well. Mother hates all music that I love and eagerly drags us out.

I just realized that this was supposed to be just a "short quick recap" and that it is not. This has spiraled out into a monster of the shitty things that have happened in my life. So here's the quick version:

I got mono from gym class which I already despised, not because I hate exercise, but I hated that I got all sweaty and then had to get dressed and go to my last class smelly and sweaty like nothing happened. Then I was sick for two and a half months. Then I got strep throat which was accompanied by headaches. I got steroids for the strep. They took away the strep, not the headaches. I went to the emergency room for some liquid morphine and then left before they took my headaches away because I didn't like being in the hospital. Then Sophomore year started. I was absent. A LOT. Then I went to multiple neurologists. They diagnosed me with chronic migraines. But my case was peculiar because they just started out of the blue and were pretty much always there from the start. First neurologist is hooked on the fact that it's a viral spiked migraine and gives me a shitload of preventatives and steroids that don't work. Second neurologist is supposed to be the greatest neurologist in the area but becomes fixated on the fact that I was "mentally scarred" from being bullied from the end of school into the summer. He made me cry a lot.

Finally we arrive at my third and current neurologist. His name is Brad. We like Brad. Brad made my constant 24/7 headaches that were 8/10 all the time become 5/10 all the time. This is the greatest success we've seen in five months. But then headaches go back up. So we go back in for IV Infusion (it sounds cool as hell, but it's really not. it's basically the worst three days of your life. and i had to do it. TWICE) this time bringing it down to a 3/10. It doesn't sound like much but it is. Unfortunately you've missed like 50 days of school and are so behind in classes that it's physically and emotionally tolling to get up and go to school every day. This makes you sad. So you just stop going to school. Unfortunately you can't just up and stop school. You have to enter this thing called "Homebound Schooling".

No, your parents don't get to teach you. You get assigned tutors that you go and meet at the local library for an hour per tutor each week. But wait, you also have elective classes this semester! Homebound program does not teach electives. But you need electives as prerequisites for the classes you want to take next year. So you make a deal with your two teachers to continue by yourself. One teacher works on an honor basis and sends all work and tests home. It's a lot but you love that class. Other teacher decides, out of the goodness of her heart, to come to your house for an hour every week and teach you Spanish.

The story that was supposed to be posted her was about what went on today between me and my Spanish teacher and it was the greatest thing ever. But I would have had to explain this sooner or later so I'll post about that tomorrow.  

Fluffy

HE IS THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS!!

So I apparently have followers in Germany, which is pretty dang cool considering I'm pretty much a nobody even in real life, so MY GERMAN FRIENDS ROCK!!!!!!!! Seriously though, you're really awesome and I appreciate it. Not that I care any less about my common folk back home, but I'm sorry you'll never be as cool as the Germans. If you're Jewish I'm really sorry about that comment.

Anyways so I understand why all feral cat mothers and other mother figure type creatures (hell even including humans) are so protective of their kittens, meeses (baby meese [I DON'T CARE IF IT'S "MOOSE"]), babies etc. The way I figured this out is because twice a day, every day, I take my bunnies out for an our each time so they can get exercise, pets and do their crazy jumps and play with their toys. Whilst sitting there with Olivia in my arms that ugly cat that I hate that I told you about named Gloria just waltzes right up on our porch (where BunnyLand is set up) like she owns the place. I quickly put Olivia down behind me and moved Oliver behind me as well. Then I yelled and charged towards said cat. Needless to say I was pretty much willing to stab that kitty in the eyes if I protected my bunnies from harm. I also threw a stick at her. But it was tiny and it missed and served its purpose of scaring her away.

Not to say that I don't think cats, dogs, etc. aren't cute, but ever since I saw that cat eat that baby bird I will no longer ever want a pet that is not an herbivore.

Also, I've decided that I'm going to start hosting night long Bunny Raves. I feel like I should trademark that before someone else decides to and if any of you steal my BR trademark I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND CUT YOU.

Today I'm pretty sure I looked like I just escaped from a mental institute and robbed some girl that was obviously taller than me because her clothes fit weird on me and I was nervously glancing around. So what happened was today I was supposed to go meet my English tutor for our final tutoring session so that I could be done with English for the year. So about five minutes before I would have to leave if I was walking my father informs me that no, he can't drive me to the library. This is bad.

This gives me about five minutes to go find shorts that are long enough to be seen underneath my long shirt (I was wearing pants because the air conditioning was freezing in our house.) Now of course all of said needed shorts are either not clean (and by not clean I mean so dirty that they could pass for something I stole from a homeless person) or they're somewhere in the washer. So I just throw on shorts that in seconds are consumed by my obnoxious shirt and am faced with the decision of whether in the next thirty seconds I could find another shirt or whether I wanted to just go for that "no pants" look. Instead of choosing I just tied an awkward knot in my shirt which showed some of my stomach and instead of feeling self conscious or worrying about being thought of as a whore I threw on my sunglasses, grabbed my backpack and freaking RAN to the library located half an hour away. When I left it was 2:40. I had to be there by 3. You can see my dilemma.

So (with the amazing help of my favorite running music Hollywood Undead) I miraculously made it to the library at 2:58. I felt proud of my 18 minute mile considering I haven't exercised in three months. That doesn't mean that I didn't arrive at the library an air sucking sweaty mess with shifty eyes and labored breathing. Especially considering I was running so fast that I ran smack into the "pull" door that I thought in my haste was a "push" door. Needless to say, the librarians and occupants all thought I was running from the police or medics. I smoothed my hair down, even though I knew there was no saving it, and sat down at my usual table to wait. By 3:15 I was nervous, and looked around frantically. I constantly rearranged my books and straightened my papers.

I tried texting my brother or mother to find out if someone could tell me if I'd gotten the time wrong or if my tutor had called or emailed saying he would be late. Unfortunately he hadn't and my mother wasn't answering me. By 3:30 I was starting to think that I wasn't supposed to be there UNTIL 3:30 and had arrived a half hour early. So I waited for ten minutes. By that time three librarians had asked me if I needed help with something, why I was there (I love how this was asked to me, the 16 year old student and not that loud snoring hobo that's chillin in the corner with a newspaper over his face) and if I needed to make a phone call.

So as I saw the next librarian get up to harass me, I stood up and walked out, feeling stupid and awkward. How dare my tutor stand me up! I was also hurt, because this was the first time I'd been stood up in my whole life and it was emotionally upsetting to me, mostly because it was done by a teacher, someone who's supposed to support you and be there for you ON TIME. I even thought I saw his car pull in as I walked away and after arguing out loud with myself (that got a LOT of stares) I decided to turn around and go see if it was truly my teacher. I mean I'd waited this long, if he was going to be there then I wasn't going to make another trip tomorrow to drop off papers and books.

So I awkwardly shuffled back into the library and since I'm short I had to go through that spiny gate thing to fully see if he was sitting at one of the many desks. He wasn't and now everyone was staring at me trying to figure out why I'd walked back in and what the hell I was looking for and not finding. So I shamefully and angrily put on my sunglasses and again walked out. It was like being stood up twice in less than ten minutes! It was horrible. I put on Avenged Sevenfold's Waking The Fallen and let M. Shadows' voice soothe my hurt soul.

And now it was hotter outside than when I'd first ran to the library and my thighs were rubbing up against each other with every step which was ridiculously uncomfortable and people in cars kept yelling things at me as they zoomed past. They could obviously see that I had earphones in and sunglasses on so I obviously could not hear what they were saying. WHAT WERE THEY SAYING?!?! I'll never know.

Today my bunnies were really excited and started having happy seizures. Just kidding, they were binkies. What are binkies? They are the chewy things that you give to your baby otherwise known as pacifiers. Just kidding, I'm talking about bunny binkies. Just as weird sounding, but totally different in meaning. Bunny Binkies are expressions of joy that your bunny(ies) will express by running around quickly and simultaneously jumping in the air and twisting their bodies. AKA the cutest seizures in the world.

Except Olivia doesn't seem to be aware that while binkying she can get hurt or hurt Ollie and has multiple times smashed into the side of BunnyLand and kept going or accidentally kicked/landed on Ollie's face. He kinda acts like nothing happened though, so maybe it doesn't hurt? I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure I'd be upset if one of my friends got excited and was running and jumping around and happened to kick me in the face. Someone'd be getting cut. Just kidding, I don't really cut people. Most of the time. Just kidding I'd bite them, REALLY HARD.  I'm not kidding.

So I think I'm going to make The Miracle Worker 2, except it's going to be about a small boy with polio and an eyepatch. I'm going to cure him of it. IT'S GONNA BE FREAKING AWESOME. Stay tuned for the first picture/story.

MY LEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I don't know about you but around where I live (that cardboard box outside the nearest Walgreen's because I'm poor) there's this thing going around where people go "the awkward moment when..." and then fill in the blank. But from what I've heard so far the moments aren't exactly awkward at all. Cause someone will be like "the awkward moment when you're a stranger and you don't know me and I start talking to you" and in your head you're thinking like "who the hell is this guy and why is he talking to me?!?!" and he's laughing like HAHAHAHAHA so you slap him really hard and just stand there. And then you go "the awkward moment when I just slapped you." and now no one thinks it's funny and you look like a terrorist. 

Not really. But I mean really, come on. You wanna know a REALLY awkward moment? 

"The awkward moment when you run outside of your house naked and everyone's outside having a block party." 

BOOM. 

Now casually speaking this would never happen. Unless perhaps we all lived in the magical world of Inception where we thought it was a dream but then we woke up and were extremely embarrassed just to find out that that was a dream inside a dream inside a dream inside another endless dream!

The awkward moment when you're at a funeral and someone screams out "MY LEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

The awkward moment when you call someone a nazi and they're german.

The awkward moment when you tell someone their parents don't love them and find out they're adopted.

I could go on all day with REAL awkward moments. Really, I could. 

 Or rather I should say all night considering the depth of darkness outside. But anyways I've just found this AMAAAAZZZINGG blogger that some of you may or may not know named Hyperbole And A Half and this woman is amazing. If any of you know Megan Prietzal from megansquared then you will LOVE Hyperbole And A Half. I try not to have too many heroes because it really diminishes the point. Like you're supposed to look up to a few people, not the world. 

So my list of heroes goes as follows: 

1. Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan

2.Mike Birbiglia

3. Megan Prietzal

4. Allison somethingofhyperboleandahalf

 And that's about it. OH WAIT. 6. My big brother

Why did I skip 5? BECAUSE 5 IS A CRAPPY NUMBER DEAL WITH IT. Honestly I have nothing against the number five, except for the fact that it interrupts my enjoyment of the number 6, also I'm not fond of the number 7 for the exact same reason. Which is interesting considering my favorite band is Avenged Sevenfold. ANYWAYS.

So I wish I had awesome artist skills. Whippersnapper is pretty snazzy with art and so is Popcorn. Thankfully V and I both have pretty low art skills so I don't feel undermined by ALL of my friends.  I HAVE LOWER BACK PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!

I really do. GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. So I love when you leave your contacts in too long and you know that you have to take them out but you're also really afraid because you know how much it's going to hurt when you take them out and how much more it's going to hurt if you don't. So you slowly reach up to your eye and take out the contact and you're like "please don't hurt please don't hurt please don't hurt.... *out comes contact* aaaaa-- HEY IT DOESN'T HURT!!!!!!!!" So you get all excited and in your excitement you just reach up and take out the other one and suddenly lava from the deepest pits of Hell have been unleashed on your eyes. 

"AAAHHHHHH OH MY GOD MY EYES IT BURNS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" and then your family yells at you the next day because it happened to be four in the morning when said events transpired. 

So I realize that these posts used to be like waaaaaaaaaaaaaay better when I first started and are slowly spiraling down in a depression BUT FEAR NOT because I have good news. My fruits and I have finished relationship counseling. 

Apparently the fruits thought that I was going too fast and wanted me to listen to their feelings before I proceeded to eat them. I'm still going to eat them just as fast. I'M NOT A BAD PERSON I'M JUST HUNGRY.

 So today's post is short and a little unbalanced but like I said, check out Hyperbole and a Half and Megansquared. Also if you've got some free time on your hands and you're looking for a new TV show to become infatuated with try Reaper starring Bret Harrison (SO HOT). It's really funny and the plot is well thought out in the first season. You really fall in love with it, so give it a go. 

OLLO

Ahhh so MegaMind was like the best movie ever!!! I watched it like six thousand times like REWIND!!!!!! Ahh the hyperness that comes with 11 pm posts, gotta love it.

So the other thing you gotta love is that awkward time between 9 and 10 pm where your body's all  "dude I don't know, it's kinda late to be reacting that strongly, let's just take a break" and so for the next hour you watch the most suspenseful show ever and something dramatic happens and in your head you're like "DUDE! YOU CAN'T DO THAT??!?!?! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!" But in reality you're just hugging a pillow really tightly to your chest and slightly drooling. Attractive. And then like ten minutes later during the commercial for Miracle Whip you finally freak out like "OH MY GOD WTF?!!?!?" And everyone's like "dude that happened like twenty minutes ago what are you doing??" and you're like "pshh well OBVIOUSLY I'm just making sure that everyone knew that something dramatic didn't just happen, duh. And obviously I was right so just - oh hey look the show it's on the screen." "but dude what were you say-" "SHUT UP IT WAS NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!" And then everyone's all scared of you just because you're SLIGHTLY foaming at the mouth and possibly growling a little

Or maybe that was just my stomach. But anyways I can't help it if I get the munchies, so deal. So apparently "the munchies" is a term for when people are high and they just get severely hungry. I wish someone had told me that earlier. ALTHOUGH it does explain the horrified look I got from this group of people I was talking to when I was pondering aloud how the children in Africa dealt with having the munchies 24/7. I DIDN'T THINK THEY WERE HIGH I SWEAR!!! So now I think those people think I hate children in Africa and that's totally not true. I love children in Africa! I do hate, however, children in Uzbekistan but that's only because I can NEVER find that country on a map and when I can't find things I either hate them or act like they just don't exist.  AFRICA! I BEEN TO AFRICA! AFRICA! I SAW A SNAKE!

So anyways I've realized recently that it's like REALLY hard to stay focused on school work when you're home alone and the interwebz and On Demand programs are calling to you. Like recently I've started homebound schooling (for medical reasons, don't worry I'm not dying...at least I think so.) and I got to the library like twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays and spend exactly 1hr and 15mins learning English and Gov't. And the rest of my days I'm supposed to spend four hours a day teaching myself things. And let me tell you, I am a terrible teacher. Cause I'll be like "the conjugated form of tener in the imperfect is...OH MY GOD WE GOT A NEW EMAIL!!!!!!!!!" and like ten minutes later I start again, "the imperfect yo form of ser is....OH MY GOD GLEE IS ON DEMAND!!!" and then like an hour later it's lunch time and that's another hour. So you see my dilemma.

So don't you just love it when you're watching really super scary intense shows like The Haunted and you're home alone and all of a sudden your cell phone goes off and you scream really loud and fall off the couch?? Me too. For example:

"the Manns family had been experiencing paranormal activity and decided to call in an investigative scene. This is footage of that investigation. *door creaks as the team enters and they begin to set up their equipment* the team feels the temperature of the room significantly drop and suddenly a distant giggling is heard from the upstairs and SEIZE THE DAY OR DIE REGRETTING

ME: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD WHAT JUST... oh it's mom *heart can stop its palpitations* 

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I die a little each time she calls me. 

You know I think it's like really weird that The Haunted comes on Animal Planet. Like don't get me wrong it's a great channel and a great show but I would expect that show to be on Sci-Fi or whatever channel the other ghost shows come on. You know what a great AP show is? The Monster Inside Me. Ever since I watched an episode down the shore I've been hooked. And now everytime someone I know has some weird disease I'm like "You should totally be on The Monster Inside Me!!" and then it turns out that they have like Cancer or something and I'm like "You should totally not go on that show. Cancer's not a monster, you'd be the most boring episode ever. There's even like a cure for you, god! What's wrong with you!? Why can't your disease be exciting like everyone else?!?!" 

Just kidding kids, cancer's a serious disease and should not be taken lightly. It's also not boring. But all I'm saying is it would be a horrible episode. Anyways since I've got some mystery disease I just realized today I was like "I should totally be on The Monster Inside Me!!! Except I don't want to be the person that has the horrible disease, I kinda just want to be the main story that they never end up figuring out because the second case that comes on is like really serious and like cancerous worms that can only be cured within the first 6 hours or the person dies. And then I could totally give my shout out to my mom and my best friends and my brother and be on my jolly way while the other person dies.The end." 

Sounds like the best episode ever to me. Just saying. 

So Mothers Day is coming up and my mom is like THE HARDEST person ever to buy for because she waits until the day before Mothers Day to decide that she's still not sure what she wants but if we want to make her breakfast and take her out to dinner that'd be enough. Yeah, make reservations on the day before Mothers Day, thanks mom. But anyways I will be posting a short special post in a shout out to my own mother dearest in the form of a song. I will be rapping, so be prepared for my homie G gangsta status to blow you away with my 9mm that I secretly have on the small of my back and the razorblades that I'm going to store in my weave so BACK UP OFF ME BITCH. 

CURSES

GAAAAHHH so there WAS another post here but the site was freaking out like FHQWHGADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I was like I NEED TO GO WATCH TEEN GIRL SQUAD. So instead of trying to adapt the byte and pixelation of the site I spent a good hour reliving my childhood. It was gts. 

BUT now I feel I kinda have to write to make up for that post that disappeared into the interwebz world of communism. DON"T ASK, just trust me. I'll save you from all the evil pirates and ninjas that say they're my friends and then punch me in the arm...but then they give me apple juice WHICH IS THE JUICE OF GODS and all is well. So on second thought, maybe I'll give you to them as a present because my tummy has the rumblies that only hands can satisfy! ....Come to think of it, I'm just going to eat your hands. I really hope you don't need them.

So HI EVERYBODY!! HI DOCTOR NICK! That was a Simpson's reference. 

Anyways I'm feeling pretty darn chill cause I'm GOING OUTSIDE!!!!!! .....tomorrow! If this is the first post you're reading then let me fill you in. I enjoy eating bread. Unfortunately bread makes you fat. So because I love bread too much, I've decided that I'm just never going to go outside again. BUT V and I are headed to the malls tomorrow and I'll probably just buy some bread whilst I'm there, so no worries. And on occasion I don't eat my bread in proper portions so we run out and then I have to get fat the old fashioned way. NOT COOL. 

So we currently have Dead Rising 2 at our house right now and I'm pretty sure killing zombies has never been so fun since Dead Rising 1. Especially the Spike Bat. You can kill EVERYTHING with it! It's such a multipurpose weapon. And it's so fun combining tools to make Knife Gloves or Flamethrowers or Rocket Launchers. SO MUCH BLOOD AND GORE AND DEATH. YAY! 

But not the point. The point is that it's only okay to kill people like this if they're  zombies, because then technically, it's not murder. There are only 2 exceptions to this rule. 1: if they're just REALLY and I mean god-forsaken annoying, then it's totally okay to kill them like they're zombies. You can even get creative and close your eyes and pretend they're zombies! And exception #2: if you're Repoman. Because let's face it, if you're a blood thirsty Anthony Stewart Head AND you're going to sing in the process, you can do whatever the hell you want!

Now to get away from blood and gore and death, let's talk about TIN MAN!! Tin Man is an evil person who, you guessed it: wears TIN. He also resembles Jason a little with his hockey mask and finger blades. But he's pretty chill. All he wants is to damn us all for our sins NBD. 

You know who I'd call? MEGAMAN because he's a BOSS. Not literally though, because as Megaman, you're purpose is to defeat bosses. 

I really wish I had muffin hands. I mean sure it'd be difficult to type or write or do anything useful, but I'd NEVER be hungry! Because the benefit of having baked goods for hands? THEY REGENERATE! Yeah! So you'd be the proud owner of muffin hands...FOREVER. And yeah you'd get some weird looks and people would think you're a freak and just maybe a cannibal, especially considering the fact that you're, you know, eating your hands. But hey, who needs to care what people think when you have MUFFIN HANDS?! 

You know what would be  better than muffin hands? CAKE HANDS. 

So I've been thinking lately and I've decided that as terrible as it sounds I'd like to wish you all a Happy Good Friday!!!! Despite the fact of the rather horrid associations with this day, it's nonetheless a Friday and who doesn't love Fridays? Especially after the devil's own spawn Rebecca Black came our with the most ingenious song ever, Friday. You ever notice how on Good Friday it's NEVER sunny or nice and all la-dee-dah fantastic? I think that kinda sucks. Mostly because not everyone in the world is Catholic/Christian and maybe they wanted to have a picnic today and it's all Doom and Gloom and all. I'd personally be kinda pissed. 

But that's a story for another day. Today I decided that I'm offically making my brother make me food for the rest of my life. Despite the fact that he can only cook all of three things, I'm pretty sure I'm okay with that. Those three things being: pizza, pork roll and cereal. I'm pretty sure I could survive off a diet like that. 

So today I went to go to deliver the misdelivered mail that the mail man screwed up on to my neighbor's house and the moment I stepped outside the Ice Cream man decided to speed down my street and almost kill me. Gee thanks Mr. Softy, I USED TO LOVE YOU. This isn't a Guns N' Roses song, you know? Just because you USED to love me doesn't at all mean that you HAVE to kill me.

By the way, everytime that I've tried to eat fruit in the past two weeks, it's tried to commit suicide on me and I'm starting to get really depressed about it. Like what is it about my stomach that's so horrible? You'd figure I'd be like God to fruit or something because I'm reuniting them with all their fruity friends! I think I'm going to have to go into Relationship Counseling with my Apples. 

ALL I DO IS WIN...UNLIKE YOU

Suppppp!!!! You know what's MY favorite thing in the world? Going to the grocery store to buy delicious food and whatnot and instead having to stare at an obesely pregnant Miriah Carey without any clothes on. Yeah. Needless to say I'm not very happy with Acme right now. I now know how the MY EYES!!! guy on Spongebob feels like. 

Anyways, welcome to "Grif! Incoming!" April. Not exactly a hilarious quote, but nevertheless a memorable one. You know like "I hate babies" or "I like me" or my favorite "you team killing fucktard!" or you know "protect me cone!" 

Well now that I'm done being a computer nerd, which is so never going to happen, let's go on to talk about the upcoming holiday....EASTERRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!! Now we all know what this holiday is ALL about, dying eggs, getting candy and slaughtering your family members when they think they can find eggs faster than you. OBVIOUSLY. Really though, I'm not gonna push any religious crap on you because let's face it, is Easter REALLY a religious holiday anymore? When you think of Easter is the first thing that comes to your mind Jesus? Or is it EGGS? Or CANDY? Personally what I think of is a non-hollow, Jesus shaped chocolate with bunny ears and a basket full of eggs with a choir of angels going "auuuuuuuhhhhhhh" cause that's EXACTLY what angels sound like.

I would now like to take some time to talk about someone that I haven't talked about ever on here yet. So I'm gonna take a moment or an hour (totally the same thing) to tell you about a little someone called Vengeance. See me and her met quite some times back in say oh sixth grade. How did you meet you say? WELL do I have a story for you. 

So I'm sitting in my tortuous catholic school math class, learning YET AGAIN that 2 +3 = 5 and NOT 6 (who knew?!) when this pretty chill girl sitting next to me looks a little sick. And by a little sick I mean she threw up on the desk/floor about a minute later. Luckily no one noticed? Which was kinda bad. So said girl proceeds to run to the bathroom. The rest of the class feels kinda awkward. But by chance of luck the bell rings signaling that it was time for the greatest class of all: SNACK TIME. So whilst everyone runs to get soft pretzels and other food items, I take a quick walk down to go check on that girl. No, I didn't know her and no I didn't have to care but some things just compel you, you know? 

So I enter the bathroom to find that girl. Crying. And apologizing and mumbling some other things about kids that I couldn't quite make out. But that's not the point. The point is that I told this girl to calm down and that everything was going to be alright and that she needed to stop worrying about what everyone was going to think of her. We might have hugged. So we become friends and eventually we realize that we're both pretty awesome. And then we start hanging out. And then I introduce her, formally, to this little band called Avenged Sevenfold. And so the story begins.

Me and V have been pretty close since then, practically sisters. She's the glitter to my Ke$ha. We've been to 2 concerts (both were amazing) and we've been through just about everything else.  She's pretty damn awesome and I love her and I feel kinda bad for not having posted this earlier. So Vengeance, you are loved and shall receive a song as well. Eventually.

Anyways so V is in this super awesome play called PHANTOM OF THE OPERA and I'm like oh my god CAKE but then I found out that this play has absolutely nothing to do with cake and I got really depressed. BUT I then found out that it has to do with a boy who was raised by telepathic rats and all is well again. So tomorrow me, Whippersnapper and Popcorn are headed over to laugh the entire time and eat some soft pretzels because PRETZELS ARE AMAZING kinda like cake, except not there yet. You know what's awesome BUNNIES! Bunnies are so awesome and cute and amazing. I used to have bunnies...but then they died of cancer....yeah. BUT I'm not gonna let that get me down because they lived long bunny lives filled with carrots and grass and water. And cake. Lol jk I didn't really feed my bunnies cake, although I should've at least once because I think everybody deserves to enjoy cake. EXCEPT FOR DOLLS...and maybe Satan.

I like trying to be artistic. It never works. But it's fun to try. Like today I was like I'M GOING TO DRAW SUPER AWESOME DESIGNS ON MY NAILS but then the super awesome designs ended up being a disfigured stick person and a bunch of lines and dots. I was rather disappointed. 

Sometimes I just like to play any Soinic game just to hear Dr Eggman go "ush!" it's very entertaining. You know what else is cute? CHAOS. And no I don't mean chaos like that terrible thing that seems to happen when empires fall apart. I mean the super cute teardrop head shaped things that you get to take care of and love forever in Sonic games!!!!!!!! Or you can be a terrible parent and always push your Chao into the water before it can swim so that it cries and hates you forever until you bring it more food /powerups/animals. 

My brother and I like to have Face Offs in which we just walk by each other and see who can make the ugliest face. It's really attractive. You should try it.  As short as this post is, it was important and I needed to make it. So suck it up and go read some past posts if you fee like smiling. Have you ever looked a picture of yourself when you were really young and just went "man I was ugly!" No? Yeah me either. I just look at old pictures and go "why can't I be that gorgeous now?!"  

Potatoes are nice.

DJ BABY BAAKCHOY THE THREE-HUNDRED POUND CHINESE BABY THAT WEARS TINTED AVIATOR SUNGLASSES AND SPINS RECORDS WITH HIS TINY RAVIOLI HANDS. 

Guess what sexy singles in the greater Philadelphia region I DON'T WANT TO MEET, TALK OR CHAT WITH YOU SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!

Although to those obviously sexy people who read my blog, you're pretty awesome and I'd love to meet, talk or chat with you anytime ;)

Now that I've released that angst, hey what's up? I'm doing pretty good. I bought nail polish that smells like sun screen so I feel pretty accomplished. I also had another bad run in with Special Olympics. So about a few years ago I was rather sick and tired of them calling us because I'm sorry but we're not exactly rich. We're barely less poor than you. So anyways I picked up the phone and proceeded to scream "WE DON'T WANT ANY!" to about three seconds later be answered by someone going "h-h-hello?" I proceeded to hang up and feel extremely terrible about myself for the next few weeks because I'd screamed at the Special Olympics. I'm definitely going to hell for that. And I got into another argument with them a few days ago because they would NOT take no for an answer. The conversation ended with "But mam we're only asking for eight cents a day" "I TOLD YOU WE CAN'T AFFORD THAT SO LEAVE US ALONE!" 

Now I'm positive that I'm going to hell. I've also refused to ever pick up our house phone ever again. Or answer the door. ...Don't ask.

Anyways so this past week I've been pretty excited cause my class dance (sophomores) is next week. So I've been mentally preparing myself to make a complete and utter fool of myself on the dance floor. I have it in my blood to dance well but by God there is certainly something that is blocking me from getting access to it. It's like I walk onto the dance floor and I'm like "okay let's just kinda shuffle around and maybe jump up and down a little" and instead I end up raising the roof. Yeah. 

I'd draw a picture of what I look like dancing but as you have had to have noticed, my drawing capabilities are of those of a five year old. Hell five year olds probably draw better than me. I'm not great with staying inside the lines. Anyways that's not the point the point is that my brain doesn't really have a filter for good and bad ideas. It's kinda just like an idea pops into my head and I'm like "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't..." and then two seconds later it happens anyway. 

Like yelling at the Special Olympics. That's where having an idea filter would have been very very helpful. And maybe I wouldn't be going to hell right now. But hell is depressing so I'm going to talk about strawberries. Why? Because strawberries are the fruit equivalent of waffles to me. So they're pretty high up there on the scale of awesome foods. 

Bananas are pretty awesome too and pineapples. I'm really hungry right now. Does that happen to you too? You start talking about food and then your stomach is like "STOP BEING A FOOD NAZI AND FEED ME GRAWWRRR" grawwrrr is obviously the noise your stomach makes when it's hungry, duh. Grawwrrr is also a fairly common woodland creature that lives in the Netherlands. 

Speaking of the Netherlands, dolls are still really freaky. Their eyes are like little soul eaters. One time my brother thought it'd be really funny to get my a doll for my birthday as a joke. That doll ended up getting run over on the blue route. I felt no remorse. 

Anyways now that you all think I'm a sociopathic homicidal person let's talk about cats. And I don't mean any regular cats, I mean PARTY CAT.

Party cat is the magical kitty that lives in my backyard. He's a regular cat except he has a unicorn horn and looks completely different depending on what holiday or event it is. There's Party Cat, Birthday Cat, Easter Cat, Elf Cat, Turkey Cat, Patriotic Cat, Flower Cat and many many more. I will be putting a picture of the latest Party Cat up on the site soon and they are custom made so send me a request and I'll get it out as soon as I can. 

I feel like it's super weird that I never doubted how to spell the word "banana" until Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl came out. Then I'll start and be like "B-A-N...A-N-A-N-A DAMMIT THAT'S TOO MANY NA'S"

Well that's it for me today. Don't lick the windows while I'm gone. 

PINEAPPLES???

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH hi.

So sorry that I up and died for like forever, it happens sometimes. BUT because I died I totally have super awesome fantastical stories and whatnot. Pineapple is a really great fruit you know? It's all delicious and amazing and moist. Does that word bother you? It bothers some people and because it bothers them I make sure to use it extremely often. MOOOOIIIIISSSSTTT. That's what cows should say.

PUNCTUATION!!!!!!! GEERRRAAAAHHH soo yeah that was me expressing my love of punctuation. Not really. See grammar and I used to get along until I got lazy and decided that more letters = better words and grammar was like NOT SO FAST YOUNG ONE and I was like "SHUT UP I HATE YOU GO DIE" aaaand then three weeks later guess who was curled up in the fetal position begging grammar to come back into my life. "I'M SO SORRY!" See that would have looked more meaningful had I been allowed to use and excess of "o"s and exclamation points.

I love my brother. He is awesome. I drew a picture of us, it is under the photo section. Except in real life I have hair and we actually wear clothes...sometimes. Just kidding that'd be really weird. That's the other reason grammar doesn't like me. I tend to make any word into a contraction when I fell it is necessary and grammar doesn't like that. Grammar is all like "Next's is NOT a word." And I'm like "YOU'RE NOT A WORD!!!" And then we get into a fight which usually ends up with me dying. Seriously grammar is violent.

So recently my bones have been popping and I don't really think that's healthy so whenever they crack I proceed to go "OH GOD I'M DYING!" And then my whole family rushes in and beats me because I'm not really dying and they don't appreciate the fact that I'm a 90 year old woman in a 16 year old's body. Yeah, so you can see how this works. One day I'm just going to sag over and start saying things like "sassafras" WHICH BY THE WAY I plan on bringing that word back.

Speaking of my brother, I drew you another picture depicting how deprived of love I am. He refuses to hug me. It's horrible. Which is funny because I almost hate when people try to hug me. 

The kid in the house in back of us really needs to go be Jayden Smith somewhere else. 

So like I was saying Sassafras is officially coming back into the 2011 language. Right along with whippersnapper and gadzooks.   

So like I was saying everything is chill and awesome and guess who's had a random infatuation with Weezer recently? ME. And it's not that I've never heard of Weezer but they have been randomly placed on a playlist that my computer made without telling me. But it's okay but this playlist is freakin awesome and it makes me wanna dance. So I did. But then everyone was like "not like that..." and I was like "SAD FACE". That was a Mike B. joke if you didn't get it. He's my hero. Legitimately. Like if I had to be stuck on an island with only one other person it'd be Megaman because he could get us the waffle out of there so that I could go meet Mike.

Megaman is really awesome you know? Like he can do ANYTHING because he's MEGAMAN. I feel like his name should always be in caps. SASSAFRAS. because you know then everyone would be like whoa.

In short I really can't stay on topic.

People think I have ADD but I only have OCD so joke's on them! Also I've decided that all I want for my next birthday is "Where's Waldo" books. 

AHHHHHHHHH okay I see how it is pineapples. One minute you're all delicious and amazing and MOIST and the next thing I know YOU'RE BURNING MY TONGUE WITH MOIST ACID!!!! I can't believe you would do this to me pineapple. How could you? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today my brother told me my shirt was made of curtain and I responded "Maybe the curtain's made out of my shirt!" And then he wanted to know why I was yelling and then he threatened to steal my ice cream and then I fell asleep. I woke up really confused. Not cool.

So have you ever had that awkward moment when you laugh at something really funny from three days ago at the most awkward moment possible? Yeah that basically defines my life. And then people have the nerve to call me insensitive. LOOK just because I remembered that drawing with the homeless pirate one toothed peg legged guy and that homeless cancer patient does NOT mean that I was laughing at your mother's funeral ON PURPOSE. GOSH. 

Soooo maybe that wasn't the BEST example, but it's what came to mind. Did you know that if you put a spoon on a vampire's nose they'll EXPLODE?!?! I didn't. And I'm sad because that is very important information. Forget mace, get me some spoons.

I've realized that Jacob from Twilight is very stupid. All he has to do is take Bella and put her in some woods for awhile and while she's lost trying to find her way home he can put a spoon on Edward's nose and the rest of that family (minus Jasper cause he's a boss) and then three weeks later when he remembers about her he can be like "It was a total accident. Some Vampire Nazi's came over and dropped a crate of spoons on their house and the majority of them died!" 

And then because she's so stupid she'll be all "EDWARD NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ......so can I still go out with you?" "Yeah" "Yay!"  

And then they would live happily ever after until one day Jacob realizes how annoying and monotonous and fickle she is and decides to eat her. The end.

The reason I say Jasper's a boss is mostly because all he does is make some freak face throughout the entire movie and say some extremely awkward phrases, try to eat Bella (he's obviously the smartest) and then pose like a pedo for the rest of the movie. Sounds pretty boss to me.

Speaking of pedophiles they're no joke. Seriously though, watch out, they're EVERYWHERE. 

And now that we're done with seriousness I can recite to you all 27 Amendments:

One: Freedoms

Two: Guns

Three: Crowded houses

Four: Drugs

Five: Guiltyness

Six: Speedy Gonzalez

Seven: Lucky

Eight: Cannibals

Nine: Rhymes

Ten: Rights

Eleven: Sue Us

Twelve: Separation

Thirteen: Slavery Abolished

Fourteen: Foreignteen

Fifteen: Voting

Sixteen: Taxes

Seventeen: Senators

Eighteen: Original Hobos

Nineteen: Women

Twenty: Jan. 20

Twenty One: Still Hobos

Twenty Two: Two Terms

Twenty Three: D.C. Totes Cheats

Twenty Four: Christmas

Twenty Five:  Caring is Sharing

Twenty Six: Voting

Twenty Seven: Terms

As you've probably guessed: ONE of those is wrong and I'm not telling you which one is it. I WILL however tell you which one it isn't and that my friends is the Cannibalism one.