10 years.

10 years ago, my life came to a grinding halt. I stopped working. I stopped caring.
My grandmother dying was so unexpected for me that everything I knew about life became insignificant. I thought about the tragedy every minute of every day for months.
Today is the 10 year anniversary of her death and all day, I haven't been able to think of much else.
I know this is rather serious and may be a bit of a downer to some but I need to be able to get my feelings out somehow.
Life just sucks sometimes, you know. You feel like this one moment:

and the next you feel like this:

and then at the end of the road, you always end up feeling like this, no matter what goes down:

I guess, what I'm trying to say here through gifs is that although you may want to breeze through life unharmed, it just ain't gunna happen. It sucks for everyone. Even the perfect people you think have everything they could ever want. They don't. They are in the same boat as you. As everyone. Right now I feel like shit but there are so many other people who feel the same, right at this very moment. That shouldn't be a good thing but it somehow makes me feel slightly better.
BTW, I have a scratched cornea so I have to wear an eye patch, pirate style for the next two days. If you feel worse than me, doubt it, but if you do, think about that and it will probably make you feel better.
WAAAAAAHHHHH!
Life, why can't yo just fuck off. Like seriously. Fuck off.
 = Me

*Cringe*

OK.
Alright, alright. I know. I've been bad. What has it been? A month? A month and a week... or three. : /
Who knows right?
Well anyway, I just couldn't. I had waaaayyyy to much to do. Give me a break.
I was trying to think of a clever, witty story to tell you recently, and I came across an old yearbook from when I was 6... oh yes.
So I had a flick through, reminiscing about the old times. I then turned the page to my class photo.
You know when you see a photo of someone and they're like, "Oh, no! That's a terrible photo! I'm so embarrassed!" *blush* but then you see it and it's like a modelling agency came in to coach them into the perfect pose and you're just kind of sitting there like this...

So basically I'm scanning through all the kids to find good 'ol me and stop when I see someone doing a mix
of these:
  
Try it. Seriously. *Warning* The results may be too beautiful for you to handle, good luck. I'm not even exaggerating. Everyone one else looks adorable or they're strategically looking away from the camera. Some are even backwards! What?
Well not me. I had to go all Mitt Romney on their asses.
So after I had a little chuckle to myself, I started to realise that 1st grade sucked for me. Actually, most of my school years have sucked. I got stung by a bee on my first day. People didn't understand what I was saying because of my New Zealand accent. I had one friend.
Not a good time. Not a good time.
Those years, from when you start school to when you graduate high school are so fucking awkward, I can't even deal. You don't know what you like, who you are, where you want to go. It's ridiculous. It really is.
But once you get past them, oh my, it's wonderful.
I mean, everyone has their ups and downs, sure. I have 20 everyday. But life, in the end, is great. It's so fucking great.

It's Better.

OK.
So basically, I started this blog because my life was at a stand-still. I had a small group of friends who I would tell everything to. I had no love life whatsoever. My grades were good, not great. And life was fine. Fine.
I started to wonder what I could do to spruce things up and a blog popped into my mind. Why not? It could be anonymous so I could say whatever I wanted to without face to face judgment. I could write what I want, when I want. Diaries were never my cup of tea and blogging seemed like the next logical step.
I had quite a few stories up my sleeve and things that I wanted to vent so I went for it.
As of a couple of months ago, I've made a few changes and feel that I should share them with you.
They are good changes. Great even. I feel happier. I feel cool and like I fit in which, for me, hasn't always been the case.
I was at a party of one of these close friends and there was this guy. Not just any guy. THE guy. It sounds cliche, I know. But when it actually happens, cliche is the furthest thing from my mind.
I told him, straight up, with a little influence from some alcohol might I add, that I had feelings for him and it turns out, he felt the same way. As of now, he is indeed my boyfriend and I couldn't be happier with the way things turned out. I can't imagine it any other way now and if I never said anything, if I didn't get off my ass and changed what I wanted to change about my life then who knows where I would be right now.
Sometimes, saying how you feel about something, anything, will benefit you enormously.
Because I realized that saying and doing what I want really isn't that scary, I have made many more friends and am not invisible anymore.
I am trying harder in school, and as a result, achieving high marks that I am very proud of.
Life isn't fine anymore
Life is the best it could possibly be.
I am really living now.
I don't feel scared to just do something and whatever the outcome, good or bad, I can handle it.
What have I been waiting for?
Fuck.
It's Better

Summer Camp Hell.

OK.
When I was 8-11, I went to a little thing called summer camp every year. For the first couple of years, it was a day camp, meaning that I could escape the wrath of the older cabin popular's at the end of the day. I would almost scream at them by the end of the summer, "I'm free bitches! Suck my d _ _ k!" and pelvic thrust that joint to the ground (see pelvic thrusting lady from a couple of posts ago. It's quite fitting here).
Unfortunately, that was not the case. I would see them again, walking around the halls of my school, not outright taunting me but close enough. They would squint their perfectly made up eyes and give me a little smile, as fake as their nose.
You may think that I am over exaggerating, but no. This was Southampton, one of the richest towns in the state, if not the whole country and every girl and her mother had fake everything.
After camp, whenever I would see them around, I would be reminded of what they were like at camp such as Christina Lee-Neknez, the evil leader, who would riffle through my bag and take out the spare pair of underwear my mom had always packed and run around with it, yelling, "*****'s got granny panties, *****'s got granny panties!"
After a stint like that, I would hide on the field until my counselor, Megan, found me. She was wonderful. She actually outright admitted to hating Neknez and her posse, saying, and I quote, (I will never forget this for as long as I live) "Those fake bitches don't have nothing on you." She was my savior. I don't think I could have gotten through camp without her.
One day, my dad had packed me a bagel with lots of butter on it. I was really excited because my parents never bought bagels for some reason and I LOVED them to death. I went to the bathroom before lunch and came back to the cabin to find Kayla Matters (she didn't matter at all to me) eating the butter off of my bagel. Who does that? No wonder she was so fat. She ate butter! This is where it gets interesting people. Prepare yourselves.
I snatched the bagel from her hands and rubbed it all over her face, leaving it greasy, essentially making her grosser then before. (I hadn't imagined that possible. You see, she smelled like a wet dog that had just rolled around in an unidentifiable brown skid-mark on the sidewalk...) before I proceeded to shove the bagel shreds I had ripped up in anger down her flowery dress and into her premature bra. I pushed her down and stormed out of that joint. I think I just walked home. I'm not entirely sure. I may have stopped for a milkshake or something to celebrate...
I didn't go back after that.
Whenever I saw Kayla Matters around school, she actually looked scared. She would divert her eyes to the floor and sometimes, travel a different route just to avoid me. I felt like such a boss, not gunna lie.

When I was eleven, I went to sleepaway camp. This round was much better then the last. It had its not so great moments, such as the time when I hadn't learned to use tampons yet (I developed rather early) and went swimming with a pad... Not the best idea that has crossed through my mind, I must say. It also had its great moments, such as my friend, Shannon. We were like two peas in a funky pod. I did lose touch with her and somehow couldn't get back in touch but I still have the memories.
All in all, camp was kind of suckish. It wasn't really my cup of tea but I did it and still live with the mental scars. Luckily, I never have to see Neknez and Matters ever again. Those bitches.
It Could Be Better

Shrewd Mercury...

OK.

"Why June is your month to be honest. Birthday girl, get ready to toss some baggage. A new moon in Gemini on the 8th is your chance to push restart. Begin with your wallet, as Jupiter slides into your money house. Close out credit cards you rarely use. Then think about a big ticket item you want, and work on that savings plan."

Alright, alright, I may not have a solid argument here, but seriously, what does Jupiter have to do with money? And what does "slides into your money house" even mean? What's a money house? A bank? Is the largest planet in our solar system going to crash in a bank? That sounds major. Did the news forget to mention this?

Why isn't that on the news instead of Angelina Jolie having a double mastectomy? Sure, that's cool of her I guess but why is she more important then anyone else who has done the same thing and actually suffered the disease? 

Anyway, I guess you know now that I don't particularly agree with the science behind horoscopes (and Angelina Jolie for that matter). 

I'm sorry but planets do not have personalities besides the ones we give them. "Shrewd Mercury," "Idealistic Neptune," and "Realistic Saturn." Right, yes. You wouldn't want to bump into Mercury now would you. I hear they're a bit shrewd. Stear clear of that seed. 

Hmmm... OK. 

There is no correlation between your emotions and the planets. Maybe people actually believe it. Maybe people read them to get given direction in life. Maybe people read them to have a little confidence boost so they can actually tell that guy they like that they do in fact like them. Who knows.

All I know is that when I see the horoscope page coming up on the horizon of Glamour I prepare to turn the page so fast, paper-cuts are expected. 

You shouldn't need an inanimate object to tell you what to do. 

If you want to discard a credit card you hardly use then do it. 

If you want to have heart-to-hearts with the people in your life that matter (hop to it, apparently, June is the time to because all seven planets are in the water signs now) then do it, time doesn't matter. If you can't do it without someone telling you to, then you're wasting your own time, and someone's you care about.

In the end, time is one of the few things we can't control ourselves and it is lost too damn easy. We need to be able to step up and direct our decisions within the small amount of time we are given. 

It Could Be Better

Joy (dog, not feeling)

OK.
I finally have my first job! Suck it bitches!

OK, you can stop sucking it now and listen to my tales of walking Joy everyday.
When I first saw her, a few thoughts ran through my mind, one being, "Stop feeding this animal!" Seriously, she is so fat, I probably couldn't wrap my arms around her middle.
She's a collie and is 13. Technically, 91 in human years! She moves fast for an old lady...
There are a few perks, like the exercise. Can't complain I guess.
Also, her poop! That sounds weird, I realize now but compared to Winnie's poop, it's like jelly beans!
One thing I am not enjoying is the state of my feet. I feel that by the end of my three month walking service, they will have to be amputated or something. Is there a such thing as too much walking? By the time I take off my socks at the end of the day, they look like a bloated fat kid's double neck, if it had toes...
By the time I fall asleep, they are beating. You know that feeling you get in your hands when you close them tight and your heartbeat pulses through them? Yeah, that.
I hate that.
It's only been a week too!
I also have no time to relax anymore. I don't know how people attend university and have multiple jobs at the same time. I have no time for anything. I feel so stressed. The only calm moment is when I get paid.
Ahhh. Money. How I love you.
The actually walking Joy part is pretty sweet though. She starts off trotting briskly, pulling me out the door, causing me to jog but then stop and walk but then jog again because her trot is just too fast to walk to but too slow to go any faster comfortably. By the end of the walk though, she has slowed down, like me.
Overall, job verdict: ...eh.
It Could Be Better

I'm stuck in a cage. And there is no way out.

OK.
I'm going to write about something a little more personal today.
I have a skin condition/disease/whatever. The doctors that I've been to (and I've been to a lot of them) say that that is not what it is but I know it is. I have every symptom there is of this specific condition. There is no cure. The treatments suck balls (or at least the ones I've been given). The doctors don't seem to know or do anything that helps me in the slightest.
"That's your job! Why are you not doing your job," I want to scream at them.
I'm stuck.
I don't know what to do or if I should do anything at all.
I've stopped going to the doctors and to seek treatment because it is not life threatening (at least not yet) but gradually it gets worse. Little by little. I'm embarrassed to show anyone or even tell you the symptoms because I am afraid you will all put the pieces together and connect the dots to the truth, which somehow, I can't bear the thought of. I don't want you to see what I have.
I don't know what to do.
I'm thinking of going back to the doctors to see if something will change this time around. Maybe this time they won't be useless and give me some treatment that will actually work. Maybe they will actually diagnose it and tell me what I've already known for years. I don't know. I just don't know. I am so so scared of what will happen if I do nothing. From what I've read, it is good to catch it early and I have but it's not like I've done nothing. I did try to get help and to treat it but no creams, pills or even surgery helped me so why go back to people I know will be a waste of my time and money.
Why can't they just do their job? Just do what you were trained to. Just fucking help me!
It Could Be so much fucking Better

Encouraging American Genius.

OK.
You know when you were 5 and would draw many pictures and write many stories and then give them to your family to admire. I have a few lying around that I hope will accidentally burn in a fire some day but just a few days ago, I found this one story I wrote for creative writing at school and just had to share with you my genius.
Seriously, that's what it was called. I titled it "Encouraging American Genius." What was I thinking?! First of all, the story sucks and second of all, I was 5! Ha! See for yourself...
Please note that I have kept original spelling and punctuation in tact for authenticity...

...and your amusement.

Encouraging American Genius  

by... It Could Be Better

 

One day a litle bare went to get some water. but when he went got home his mother was not isn't there :O A note was on the table, "I kidnapped your nother!, try and find her, by tonight!"

The litle bare w, Jimmy, was sooooo scared. he went to find his mother down at the creek and there she was. The kidnapper got had to go to jail and Jimmy and his mother had the rest of the day near the creek

 

Uh... I think it was obvious I would grow up to love writing just by this story. I mean, right?

Wow, genius in the making, I was not mistaken, that is for sure.

It Could Be Better

 

Fading off into Dreamland... Unfortunately.

OK.
I am aware that everyone has dreams (subconscious ones), whether they be day or night dreams, but I feel like mine are just too weird. I don't understand why I have dreams like the ones I have but I do and have learned to laugh them off. I remind myself that my mind has come up with these scenarios so the makings of them must be somewhere in that brain of mine and that fact makes me a little nervous to be completely honest...
The earliest dream I remember having probably takes the cake for the weirdest. I am assuming that I have remembered it because of this but who really knows. Basically, there is a giant snail (think Gary from SpongeBob SquarePants) who wanders into a French café (I know, my young mind was advanced enough to come up with that fact. Bow down to me peasants) and sits itself under one of the tables. The table has a whole in the middle to put an umbrella but is empty at the moment. The waitress then comes over and pours salt down the whole and kills the snail slowly. The customers all laugh at this and jump up onto the tabletop. They then proceed to dance around like Native Americans with suddenly appearing headdresses.
Uh... I know.
During my recent years they have been relatively normal (compared to that at least) but with a few strange subjects, like an elephant who runs a marathon or a giant made up of spoons and forks (not knives, don't be silly) who roams the populated hills of Wellington safely. This one could have been inspired by The Iron Giant...

I am also never in my dreams. Like seriously, never.
I don't have one remembered dream with me in it. Maybe I am the snail/elephant/giant? I don't really know. I'm no psychologist. There have been humans in my dreams. Quite regularly actually. People I know too, just not me. Ever.
I also dream in black and white. Some selected things are colorful like the snails shell or elephants sweatband or giants eyes.
Lately, I've been having dangerous dreams though, like a volcano is about to erupt and the people must get to higher ground and are running around like ants trying to survive or there is a gunman strutting around the streets but never shoots anyone... He does have quite an interesting walk though. A bit of swag mixed with a huge ego.
Anyway, this is what I look foreword to every night. Don't you just wish you were me so bad?
It Could Be Better

♪ ♩ ♫ ♬ ♩ ♩

OK.
If you have read any of my posts about life, you probably know that I am a little intimidated by it. Just a smidgen.
My brain is strange in the sense that I feel really good about it now. Just in this moment. Like everything that could become stressful or a nuisance just... isn't. Maybe it's the saxophone I'm listening to at the moment. That sounds weird, I know. But it just gets me feeling good. Really good. There's something about that sound that I just love. I'm especially loving this song at the mo. I don't normally see sax in modern songs but this ones awesome. Brings me back to memories of New York. Give it a go, man.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dX3k_QDnzHE (three minutes in). Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Maybe that's why I love it so much. Thoughts of my old life. There would be this busker on the corner of the Main Street in my town who would play sax in this style every Sunday morning. I would hear it as my Dad and I would pass by to go to the market. I would just close my eyes and I swear, I could feel it pulsating through my veins like pure happiness and this would take control over my mind and body until I could no longer hear it.
I'm sure many of you have things that give you great joy in life and this is just one of mine like the smell of a greenhouse or the sight of my dogs dried drool stains on my pants. That one sounds especially weird, I'm aware, but I always envision her naivety and unawareness that she has done anything wrong. I find that adorable.
The sound of the saxophone just makes me forget about the stressful things in my life and the fact that I have so much left to live. I leave behind the worry and replace it with something else entirely.
It calms me down and makes me realize that some things... just aren't that important.
It Could Be Better

Goodbye, Old Friend

OK.
I think.
I think Morty has died.
I'm not quite sure.
If spiders don't move for a while, does that mean they're dead?
He's been in the same spot on the ceiling for about a week now. I always thought that they curled up when the died. Or maybe that was only when someone squashed them...
Well, I guess I'll clean him up.
Yeah, that's all I have to say.
Que sad montage of friendship.
It Could Be Better

Bike = Satan

OK.
"Satan (Hebrew: הַשָּׂטָן ha-Satan, "the opposer,") is a character appearing in the texts of the Abrahamic religions, who personifies evil and temptation, and is known as the deceiver that leads humanity astray. The term is often applied to an angel who fell out of favor with God, seducing humanity into the ways of sin, and who now rules over the fallen world."
Hmmm... I realize that many of you probably love biking (or exercise. See my rant about that here :) http://letsusjustseehowitgoes.blogspot.co.nz/2012/12/why-is-exercise-so-fucking-terrible.html) but I hate it. HATE it. There is a reason. I don't just go around hating on things without a proper reason.
I must've been around 8 or so when I was staying at my uncle, aunt and cousins house (who are crazy, I might add. They all weigh about 100 pounds, exercise for hours everyday, live in the middle of the woods and eat nothing but food fallen off of trees and when I say fallen, I mean literally fallen. Apparently, if you pick a piece of fruit or whatever off of a tree, you are hurting its feelings... Moving on from that). Since they just loved to sweat to their hearts content, we were brought outside so we could as well.
The choice was to go on a 2 hour run through the woods with my cousins (tempting) or bike around the driveway (not so bad). So after I went on the two hour run... just kidding.
I was given a bike with no brakes without knowledge. We were all biking around the huge circular driveway when we decided to go in for a yummy lunch, a delicious and filling bean and pepper salad. Don't be fooled by the salad part. It was just beans and peppers. No seasoning. Nothing.
I was the first to head in which required me biking down the steep path to their house. I was zooming along, feeling OK when I saw a sharp turn up ahead. I swerved around and made it! Yay!
However, right after the turn was a metal shed covered with rust and broken dreams. My life flashed before me, as there was nowhere to go.
I furiously squeezed the brakes but to no avail. I closed my eyes and waited for the blow.
After the impact, I saw the bike lying on the concrete next to me, its tire spinning furiously. I lifted my arms to my face which was still intact but streaming with blood. The arms I lifted were too, covered with blood and dirt, especially my wrists.
Everyone got me inside and tried to clean me up. They weren't much help though since they weighed probably as much as me (I was 8).
I was left with a gash above my eyebrow, a cut on my chest, and multiple scars on my arms and hands.
Even now, I have those scars. They have faded a bit.
I also have a fear of riding bikes and even walking down hills. If I'm hiking or something, and I'm walking downhill, I get scared, and it's embarrassing.
I wish it were different, but it's not. You'd be surprised at how much it does affect me. Being scared of hills! I live in the hilliest place. It's ridiculous.
I hate the feeling of being on a bike, the balancing of the two wheels just feels unnatural and unsteady. I don't feel safe.
It sucks, what else can I say but...
...It Could Be Better

Memories

OK.
My memory is very selective. I used to think that it just kind of sucked, really, but I remember things from when I was probably around four but not a couple years ago... Hmmm. Is everyone's memory like this?
Anyway, the selected memories that I do have and must be acceptable for my brain to store them just never leave my head. I feel like I will always remember them. I can't quite figure out if this is good or bad. I mean, they aren't terrible memories, just so insignificant to everyone else but me that I find them useless information. Why can't I recall the day my family and I went to that relatives house but I can recall the first day of kindergarten in which everyone was secretly laughing at my New Zealand accent and I got stung by a bee? I bet my memories are a bit morphed too. You know when you go back to your old childhood town or you see a movie you haven't seen in decades and the picture is just different to what you considered it to be in your head. I think that happens a lot to me.
I used to live in a small town near Christchurch, New Zealand, and my family and I went back there recently and it looked nothing like what I had remembered. It doesn't help that some bitches tore down my beautiful home and created three in its place.
A lot of my selected memories happened there. Like my first ever crush, Peter. He was super small and carried around a blanket at school everywhere he went. Or when I went to my friend Ellie-Rose's house and took a piece of paper from her printer and got yelled at by her mother. I wonder if the house I see in my head is even remotely close to what was actually there in front of me.
I feel very nostalgic now.
I could list off all the memories I have somehow considered important enough to remember but I don't want to bore you with my super interesting life...
I do wonder though, why I recall things that have no real meaning but I just cannot for the life of me recall normal memories that others can bring up with the snap of their fingers.
I can't help but think I'm defective in some sense. Like the gene elves who grant everyone with eye colour and coordination skills (missed that mark too) came to this option while serving me and said, "Uh... Nah."

You can never unsee this. I am so sorry.
Yeah, not really. 

It Could Be Better

Morty.

OK.
Just to creep you out, I feel like I should tell you something a little strange.
I have a spider in my room. He is tiny. His name is Morty and he just won't leave.
Don't get me wrong, I leave my door open for him but he won't go. He walks around my ceiling. That is all he does.
Do spiders eat? If they need to, for survival, he must be bionic or something because he has been here for about a month. I know for sure he hasn't chowed down on anything in my room. Or has he...?
I mean, he seems happy enough. He's never told me otherwise. You would think that if he was, he would leave and make a better life for himself. He must like me :) There was this other spider around the day I found Morty. He was gone in the morning. Men.
Morty is getting bigger everyday. I must have meet him when he was a baby. Maybe he got lost or separated from his mother. Maybe he fled an abusive home situation. I don't know what the story is but I know that I'd never hurt him. He would never hurt me.
I don't want to come off as some bug miracle savior tree hugger type. Don't get the wrong idea. I kill bugs all the time.
Morty's different.
The first time I saw him, I was about to turn off my light to go to sleep. He was on the ceiling. Just strolling around. Maybe he had been there for months, years and I had just noticed him. I do find that hard to believe. He has such presence.
He could be 100 for all I know. He seemed to be going around in circles. Spiders tend to do that...
Anyway, I was too tired to get up and squash him like I would've normally have done so I just switched off the light to go to bed. The next night, there he was, in a different corner. He walks really fast though so don't think it took him all day to walk across the room. Oh no. He's a champ. He could run laps around me. Not that that is extremely hard to do in the first place but you get the idea.
Ever since then, I just couldn't kill him. I've given him an identity. I would feel like I was killing a friend.
He doesn't scare me like other spiders. There's this thing about him that makes me feel comfortable. With most spiders, I would be afraid that they would repel from the ceiling (I'm talking about real spy, ninja shit) and crawl into my brain during the night but not Morty. He's trustworthy. That's hard to find in a guy.
I kind of wish he had a better lifestyle. I mean, don't get me wrong, walking around upside down all day sounds fun and all, I just wish he had some kind of house to chillax in. Maybe a family. Some kids (or spawn, eggs, egg sack? I'm not really sure how that biology stuff works. I should really look that up).
Anyway, I don't know what'll happen to him. Maybe one day he'll walk out my door and I'll never see him again. Maybe I will but I won't even recognize him. Who knows what'll happen? Life's an adventure and you'll never know what one you'll have next.
It Could Be Better

Party Time.

OK.
Whether you choose to believe me or not, I had a party last night.
No no no. Not just a party but a Party.
To be completely honest with you all, I was so fucking nervous. I mean, if it went horribly lame, I would be branded the loser who had the lame party. First World Problems, I know, but I'm just an Average Joe so more bad publicity would make me even less noticeable (or more, but not in the good way).
So first of all, I will tell you that it went alright. I think almost everyone showed up who said they would and the others told me later why they couldn't. Everyone told me they had a great time and it wasn't awkward at any moment.
There were however, some weird moments, some asshole-ish moments and some gross moments that I will tell you right now, serenaded by the party shouts from across the street. Like, seriously, there have been so many frat boy yells, I'm surprised noise control hasn't shown up.

1. Have I mentioned I have a dog. Well, I do. And like any dog, she poops outside in my yard where I didn't realize people would go. Well, they did and stepped in a poo without knowledge and walked around my deck in high heels so that tiny poo circles were spread around my deck. I had to break out the hose and water blast those bad boys which were extremely hard to get rid of, by the way, from the pressure of the heel. Awesome time that was.
2. I clearly told everyone that it was a bring your OWN drink party and about 5 people turned up expecting me to have provided alcohol for more than 40 people. I don't think so buddy. So because of their sheer stupidity, they stole other people's drinks and my vanilla essence. What!?! I guess they thought that they could get "wasted" by drinking it. Idiots. One of them even asked if an unopened bottle of Fanta on the counter was "already mixed..." Whatever, at least I was born with a brain. One point for me.
3. I had my closest friends stay over and I let them put their belongings in my room upstairs. I put up a sign at the bottom of the stairs saying "no go zone bitches." This did not stop people from going upstairs and having sex in the bathroom (or something like that. I didn't really ask for details) and stealing money from my friends' wallets. I consider this equal to a robbery. They trespassed into a place which they did not own, and were not aloud in and stole from me. Let's just say I know who I am not inviting next time.
4. So we were dancing and my friend fell. She ended up dislocating her knee and then snapping it back into place when she stood up. It started swelling and it probably hurt quite a bit but I'm not entirely sure because she was so drunk... Anyway, we ended up calling an ambulance and they came and told us that she would have to be on crutches for two weeks but because she snapped it back early on, it was not that bad.

Overall, the night was definitely super fun and I don't regret it but it had its weird moments, like any party. Man I'm tired........................
It Could Be Better

Hey World. How you doin'? That's good. Oh, me? Yeah... not so great.

OK.
Sorry world for not posting for almost three weeks! Bad. Bad. Bad. *Slaps wrist*
I have excuses though! I'm not just a lazy person. I'm not saying that I'm not a lazy person, that's just not all I am.
Like in my last post, I mentioned my stress levels rising. Let Us Just say that they have risen further. I know leaving no time for blogging isn't great because I made a stupid deal with myself that I would often (to make me feel like I can stick to something. And I have. I mean, I'm here aren't I?). I am prone to doing that. Just this week I made a bet with my friend, who I happened to tell about this blog so technically, I am not anonymous anymore. Awkward, I know. I tell some twisted shit on here. Anyway, we said that whoever got with a guy first, ... WAIT! We didn't have a prize! Dammit. Or maybe we did... (my memory suuucks).
Tangent, sorry.
So there's my excuse. One of them anyway.
Life is hard. I haven't lived for a huge amount of time but from what I have so far, my verdict: Fucking hard.


Check out this guy. Creepfest...

It Could Be Better

WWASCD. Done. Life Sorted.

OK.
First off, FUCK!
Man. I've been wanting to say that all week.
I feel so fucking stressed, like I'm losing my hair (funny, since there's not much to begin with).
Anyway, I have so much to worry about. To think about. Garrrr! I have like, 5 assignments due at the same time. I feel like the person who organised that schedule must have been aggressively stupid, or may have thought, "Hey. Wouldn't it be super funny to watch all of these worthless kids squirm by making all of these important hand in dates at the same time. Man, I love my job." Whoever invented work was a reeeal a-hole.
Like my scarily accurate catch phrase, "Why Can't We Just Live Like Sophisticated Cavemen," why do we even need work in the first place.
If you are ever stuck in life, just say to yourself, "What would a Sophisticated Caveman do?" Works every time. It's kind of scary actually.
"Aw man, I just missed my bus." WWASCD. Walk, you lazy bastard.
"Aw man, my cake didn't rise." WWASCD. Eat it anyway. It's cake. What does it matter?
"Aw man, I didn't get a clear photo of that dolphin." WWASCD. Well did it get a clear photo of you?
I mean, right.

(The awkward moment when I didn't actually make this myself and found it on Google images... Who does that?)
It Could Be Better

New Years Resolutions Update.

OK.
If you happened to read my first two posts of 2013, you'll realize that I wrote down some of my New Years Resolutions to share with you. I came up with a few more that I wrote down later but as for the original ones I wrote to you all, I am going to give you an update on what I've achieved. Some good, some ... less than good.

1. Be more open towards people and stop caring so much. YES! I am suddenly, just this year, way more confident. Maybe it's because of my status at school? Maybe I'm finally realizing that there is more to life than caring what others think because, let's be honest, they don't really give a shit. Overall, check.
2. Stop watching The Bachelor. Uh... Let's just say that I have failed this one. But get this, out of like 30 seasons of The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, only like 2 couples have made it work. I guess I'm not surprised. They have like a month to choose who to marry out of like 30 people. No, just no. Anyway, overall status on number 2, not so check. (I apologize for using "like" so many times in that paragraph). 
3. Take more photos. No! I'm really annoyed because I feel like the cameras I have are lame and crappy so I feel like it won't even be worth it. Poo bum. Also, my life is kind of boring. What could I take pictures of when I'm at school all day? Overall, uncheck.
4. Dress nicer. Hell yeah! I've worn sandals and skirts and pretty bras... Nuff said, check.
5. Be happier with self. I think so. I hardly ever have days anymore where I feel sad and generally unhappy because I think that no one likes me or something silly like that. I'm cool. I'm awesome actually and people want to be my friend so I must be doing something right. CHECK.
6. Don't be embarrassed at silly things. Oh, dear. So many embarrassing things have happened to me this year. I feel like I should tell you to make you all feel way better about your lives. About a week ago, I was eating some nuts in the library when the Grinch-like librarian told me (quite loudly, I might add, so that everyone around could hear me getting yelled at for eating some nuts) to get out so as I left, I ended up spilling those nuts all over the floor. I had to pick them up with about 20 people watching. I thought I would pass out from embarrassment. I haven't even told anyone that story because I was too shamed. Moving on. Another was when I was walking down the hallway to my next class and a sort-of friend waved in my general direction. A normal person may have just smiled and moved on, but me, being ... well, me, waved back (enthusiastically (I was in an unusually chipper mood that day)) and realized that they were waving at someone else. No. Not just any someone else. Like the hottest being I have ever seen. Just imagine Nirvana in face and pecs and hair and... well, everything form and that's your guy. He looked at me like I was butt flavored soup... (see picture below). I then crawled into a hole and died. So, overall, no. I did not overcome this and probably never will if my life continues to suck. 

So I guess you win some, you lose some, eh?
It Could Be Better

Ummm... What?

OK.
I am a couple weeks into my last year of high school and I've got to say, I didn't realize it would be so ... slack. I mean, I knew people ditched class and all but Jesus. There's also this thing called Peer Support which means that people volunteer to show around the freshmen and generally support them with things like Athletics day and camp. I was starting to regret not doing it when I realized how much school they miss! I mean, I'm ahead in all of my classes because no one shows up. I'm feeling really confident grade-wise.
You would think that with it being the last year before the rest of your life, people would step up a bit but whatever, I guess it's their life. I am determined to make the most of it and try my very hardest.
Nerdy, I know, but I feel like I am only doing subjects that I can really excel at so bring it on expectations, I'm coming for you.

Happiness flows through my veins and fills my heart with warmth.

OK.
Today, I feel happy. I'm not quite sure why. I mean, a few things add up, just little things. Without even realizing it I guess. I love it when that happens.
It's usually on Sunday. Is that weird?
I can understand why others may have a mild hatred towards Sunday but I have always loved them. They are always (well with me anyway) relaxing and filled with exactly what I need to get me through a long week. I mentally prepare myself with what I need to do. Things such as notes and plans, goals even. Goals just for the week. They are essential to my survival. Planning the week is way more fun then actually living it...
I also find what I do during the week ... fun. I like the subjects I have chosen and find them truly interesting, addicting, inspiring. I want what I feel now, right at this moment to appear in the rest of my life. Maybe not all the time. That may be a bit much to ask. You also cannot live without sadness or rejection because then you would never grow and become stronger.
Every moment would be the same so no moment would be great compared to the next.
I still don't have much clue as to what I want to do...
I have ideas but I always feel as if I could never make it. Like only a few people make it and I could never be that or become that. Hmmm...
It Could Be Better