"fuck the world"

sarah once told me that she pictured me walking around with my middle fingers up yelling, "fuck the world!!" i don't remember what circumstance created this image for her, but i think i've been following suit ever since.

"goodbye cruel world," my blog says. there were good times. there were bad times. glad it could document high school for me. i'll miss it. maybe.

the end of times

let's review what i found out about my outward persona today, shall we

in english today, everyone recited an ode about the class, and in many cases, about the individuals in said class

this is what i heard about me:

heard: "meghan j. you are such a mystery.  i would pay $50 to read your diary. that's the same amount of money i spend on my nicotine addiction every month" - english teacher.

thought: i'm glad the mystery of my hatred for her was not easily gleaned; i should pursue writing if she'd really pay to read it

reality: i never talk [to her/the class] so she didn't know what to say about me / thought she'd add something about herself, of course


heard: "we met in junior high / we shared a locker bay" -ingrid

thought: everyone else got "you are a beautiful cute lovely person" and i really got an INACCURATE description of the location of our first meeting ?!?

reality: she thinks nothing of me; first thing she thought of


heard: something about how me and roxy and two other people are the most violent group in the class

thought: she thinks were evil

reality: it was a joke because we are so tame

please help

for some reason this quote



is circling my brain right now.

in keeping with my last-minute/irresponsible/lethargic/despondent approach to college, i just signed up for my orientation date.

i went downstairs to do it in the presence of my parents so they could confirm dates/fees/etc. after the third "continue" button i burst out into tears and exclaimed, "i just want to go to a community college so i don't have to do this sh-stuff!"

my parents, alarmed, assured me i'd still have to do this at a community college. this fact lured my brain into thoughts about the no-college option and it's been resting in that pool of opportunity ever since then.


but anyway, this round of motherfuckery got me thinking about how people tried to push me to go elsewhere and were very supportive in my dreams of moving west. two people wrote in my yearbook, insisting i go to california (at some point). and i don't know, i guess just knowing that i'm being heard and understood is sincerely comforting. (thank you to those people)

i feel shitty that blogger is totally dying out, kinda paralleling our high school careers and relationships what idk

k so i got home from a LONG ASS MOTHERFUCKING NIGHT of babysitting and its like 12:30 and i get in the shower and i go to shave my legs and i see a tiny fucking tick right under my knee, half-embedded in my skin. within two seconds of registering this, i'm on the floor of my shower, sobbing. like full-fledged breakdown.

i do not handle things like this well at all. i say i'm fine with animals/insects/etc because i really dont have any anxiety about them when i'm not around them, but if i do see one, i go apeshit

i.e. any spider
i.e. that one time neighborhood b was having a "mice problem" and i thought for some reason or another there were mice in my locker and i went home and showered similarly to this (what would later be known as a panic attack)

 (classic baby mama sobbing that ---no exaggeration-- i just performed inadvertently in my own shower)

so back to my knee tick, after a good full two minutes of sobbing and helplessly contemplating how to rid myself of said tick, i gathered the strength to look back down at it and examine the situation further, when i realized it wasn't a tick. but rather, a small speck of silver spray paint that had gotten on me from an english project earlier that day. 

and in keeping with this visual presentation, this is the reaction my family had to the sounds of me screaming/sobbing from my shower 

ta-da! 

fantastic blogging, right here