the following is of most importance:

here are some random thoughts i've had today...i'm too lazy right now to create an actual blog worthy of your attention but still...

- upon seeing the "Stand Up 2 Cancer" commercial for the 5th time (which features a bunch of "talented" celebrities standing up to sad music) i started to get pissed and reverted back to an older blog of mine...i just don't get it sometimes. why do we care that Christina Ricci physically stood up in front of a camera? is that supposed to make me feel something more intense towards cancer? i realize that they're putting their "star power" to good use by promoting cancer research but idk...seems like kind of an insult to cancer sufferers and victims.. c'mon ad guys, shit needs to get real.

- liz asked if i wanted to come live at her house after she referred to the blogs i made over the weekend regarding my home situation. i would just like to clarify that my family does not emotionally abuse me. it just came across that way cuz i was pissed and bored. which is a common excuse of domesticabuse victims but, i be seriousss

- tessa's foreign exchange student seems shy. very shy. this fact seems to give me great motivation to  get to know her better  retreat to the front seat with courtney. today i got the feeling that these French students are probably experiencing huge headaches. i mean, come on, constantly being bombarded by a foreign language? that would suck. and plus, the oak-land kids didn't get a proper French education so they're no doubt behind their French counterparts...

- i have no idea how i'm going to handle a full day of school tomorrow. prepare yourselves for the inevitable blog-puke spewed all over your computer screen tomorrow afternoon.

Possible Bedroom Door Signage

are you kidding me?!

swear to god, i promised myself i was going to log off Blogger and go find some cute guy to fuck today, preferably at a club, but this seriously just happened and i had to share it with y'all:

i  had just finished editing my blog entitled "Emoticon" when my mom swiftly walks into my room, unannounced:

Jan Ok, so your dad and i are going to the movie now. Need me to drive you anywhere first?
Me smiles in spite of myself. 
Jan I take that as a no, you creeper*? Well, i'll see ya when we get back. it's a long movie. i mean, unless you're gone when we're back...not saying running away "gone" but if you find something to do, feel free to leave... or you could run away? that could be cool. leaves chuckling to herself

*my mom says she "works at an office filled with twenty-somethings and their facebooks" so she picks up phrases like "creeper" and "what the face?" ...and doesn't hold back in using them directly towards her children.

Emoticon

Preface

i know it is indescribably lame and reflects a certain bitterness to blog so much on Valentine's Day but it doesn't count if you're ignoring the holiday, right?

Chapter I

i am very used to being judged by my family. i know there's that whole cliché that your family is your safe place, and you can share anything with them because they will always love and respect you blah blah blah but that's bullshit and everyone knows it.
and being as i'm so used to being ridiculed and judged by them, you would think i would stop taking offense, but the offense-taking has yet to subside. usually, it's mostly my aunts, uncles, and cousins (i don't know why them, particularly, but they enjoy making fun of diet, weight, athleticism, sunglasses/apparel, nerdliness, photogenic-ness, hair, etc.) and coming from my family one would think that i would take their comical-criticism in stride and laugh it off, however, it can really get to you after awhile. but my point is not to garner sympathy from y'all, cuz actually, as i mentioned before, this is all great material for my upcoming humorous memoir. so my real point is....

Chapter II

my real point is my mom constantly seems to judge me for my lack of participation in social activity. i assume, based on stories from my grandma, and her,  that she was a "wild child" and consistently got in trouble, for, well, extended social activity. so i understand how seeing her eldest child fall a wee bit behind in that category might concern her some. which, i completely realize has been done before, and this is the beginning of one boring underdog story, but believe it or not my life seems to follow that classic underdog pattern (minus the success later on). anyway, we seem to have the following conversation at least twice a day. please do not interpret her judgement as a pursuit of simple organizational purposes:

jan knocks on my bedroom door, doesn't wait for an answer, opens door: so...meg...what are your plans for today?
me ...i don't know?
jan so*...you do not need me to drive you anywhere...?
me nope..
jan are you sure?
me why..?
jan i really think you should do something. call up some friends. get out of here!
me yeah, maybe...i don't know
jan come on, meg! you should really get out......i'm taking molly to meet up with some friends so i could drop you off somewh..actually, i've never met these friends of hers before. probably boys, right? ...and your room has to be getting stuffy, no? so...
me stares off into space; stressed out expression
jan  senses she's done here and leaves room, shuts door....finally.

2-3 hours later i retreat across the hall to pee, and hear muttering from the kitchen. decide to not be paranoid, and just, well, pee...

5 minutes later:

jan doesn't knock this time...what's up?
me stares at her.
jan need me to take you anywhere? no? well, i'm going to O'Malleys to meet some friends...dad's home if you need him to take you anywhere.
me continues to stare.
jan leaves. clearly frustrated.


*despite her dark low-lights, my mom is extremely scandanavian and says "so" every other word.

Chapeter III

i am getting really tired of having that conversation. the offense-taken is starting to build up

Chapter IV

don't worry, i'm done bitterly blogging on d-day... oh, excuse me, v-day. 

hey now

ok so i was reading MyLife's blog post (the name sonia insists on using on el blogger....don't judge, meg, don't judge...) and i came across this paragraph:

also new, my living room. according to megallo the jigallo [i made it rhyme in my head], it's not actually "redoing the whole room" because im just getting new furniture. it's still freaking me out though. we went from these nice, slim, blue futons to these giant brown suede-y couches and its kinda scary and new and and and and different. i sound like a changeaphobic, which i'm usually not, but that room [besides my own], is like the only place i hang out in within my house. i hope i still get to eat on that couch, otherwise i'm gonna eat my dinner downstairs in the basement where my good ol' futon buddies live now.

and i just had to laugh [to myself, alone, on a blogger:( ] because as i was reading it, my mom was downstairs re-painting my kitchen for the 500th time. now that woman knows how to a re-do a whole room. she's done it to each room in the house at least 5 times. which i'm not complaining about, i love change. and her love for change has allowed me to re-do my own vibe-less, personality-less bedroom probably like 6 times and counting. anyway, right now she's painting the beige/yellow/orange color a light green. but don't worry, she's keeping that gross brown color on half the walls cuz she insists it's "all the rage" and "high fashion" despite it being a physical kitchen. with walls. and a floor? and we got new appliances and were getting a new floor soon. sonia, my dear, that's how you redo a room. 

but going back to the woman loves change thing: it's actually quite abnormal for a mother to be that way. think about your own mothers for a sec. do they push for change? (besides being Obama supportors)  I didn't think so. That's just my mother. my conspiracy theory is that she didn't want to be a mom in the first place. here's the evidentiary clues: she was married to el culo for a whole SIX YEARS before giving birth. and during these SIX YEARS i expect she partied way toooo much (implying drugs and alcohol abuse here).  i believe this cuz sometimes she lets these little tidbits of info out that imply just that. 

like for instance, just yesterday, she was like "oh yeah. your dad's going out on a date with a guy from college tonight. [the friend] he was like this radical, cool, pothead. you know the type. yeah. and of course i had a crush on him." (please note that when my mom says 'date', she's really saying an outing that dad my goes on with a friend.) anyway, what she implies here is, "of course i had a crush on a pothead cuz i was one bitches!" why was i talking about this again? umm.... oh the woman loves change. she's the kind of mom where there is that distinct possibility she will never come back from getting groceries. lol jkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. or am i? lately all she says is, "ugh, i need a change." or "shit, i really can't do this anymore." a wee bit disturbing to her children. 

god where was i going with this? i really should start outlining and drafting before just diving in. 

my kitchen's going to be green now. 

coffee house soundtrack

ok this is a completely lame post but i really would like to talk about this topic matter.

first of all i would like to preface this by saying: sonia, you were wrong-- norah jones was cool in 2002, when she won FIVE GRAMMYS and her CD sold OVER 200 MILLON copies. so eat it, bitch. :) (jk idk if you remember saying the contrary, but you did, and you were probably kidding...)

anyway, hearing that norah jones song in Dunn Bros. a week ago made me think of this lingering idea of mine that never goes away. though i'm sure not original, it's a slightly faggish thought, and whenever i talk about it out loud i sound like a pretentious asshole and nobody ever seems to get what i'm talking about. so maybe if i say it in blog-form it will be less asshole-y.

what i'm talking about is that when you first hear a song, rarely, but some times, it stays with you. in your brain, a connection is made between that song and the time, place, and people you were with when you first heard it. and whenever you hear this song, after said connection, a wave of intense nostalgia washes over you: you are brought back to that place, that time, and the people you were with when you first heard the song. i don't know...maybe you guys know what i'm talking about, maybe you don't, but either way it's happened to me a few times quite intensely, and i never know what to think about it...

btw, the norah jones thing is relevant cuz whenever i hear "don't know why"--- despite it's vast current uncoolness, i get all mushy inside...i'm trying to think of the exact place where i first heard it but idk..the stank of nostalgia must be too strong for me to concentrate properly. all i know is, i was probably in the car with my mom and sister driving home from New Horizon. though i know it wasn't the happiest time of my life, the connection between then and now is just too apparent. i don't know, maybe this was too Bohemian of a post for you guys, maybe i'm too much of a music freak. :p

ay ay

ok so turns out i'm a complete dumbass and a huge dickhead. i know what you're thinking, "yessss godd meg, we established this a long time ago, way to be repetitive on top of it all..."
but cuz i'm both of these things, i tend to do stuff like coax someone into doing something and then completely forget about alltheblogpostsi'vewrittenaboutheperson....what? i'm talking about tessa: i told her to start a blog, and like a retard, i didn't take down the stuff i wrote about her...which sounds worse than it is, but i really do feel stupid.


clarification:

-TexMex can read. and very well at that. she's in 10E bitches. but when i said "tessa doesn't read, right" i was referring to her lack of time to read - she's actually got a filled social life. so filled, that if i were her i'd totally find reading for fun to be completely lame. yet she still manages to read 537 page books in between everything (yes, i looked up how long crank is).
-I don't know what she's feeling/thinking so i shouldn't pretend i do.



ok moving on? alrighty.

here are today's gems by my art-girl-crush (btw, i'm going to start including these every day so get over it i'm in love)
- "me like me some big bananas."
- [when told she couldn't look up porn on the computers in art...] "what?!? the human body is perhaps the most beautiful..."
- "let's go to applebees! should we go to applebees?! yesssss applebeeeees!!"

clench (the teeth)

ok, i'm sorry, *grits teeth* this is really pissing me off:

who the hell is that tall?!?! katie fucking holmes, apparently.

desperate cow-swives.

i had a shitty end to my day, but instead of ranting i'm going to go narrative-style.


i climbed those damn bus stairs and met the face of my satist bus driver. "good morning," he said. i politely replyed "good morning to you too, sir," even though i was fully aware that it was 2:20 in the afternoon. i saw the familiar faces of the bus and ignored every one of them, settling into the second seat on the left. i experienced a short flashback to the events that had proceeded just two minutes prior in my spacious skull, and spazztically turned around, awkwardly sitting on my knee, to talk to courtney and tessa --- hoping to escape my sad inner dialogue. it was distracting, enough. no it wasn't. i bantered with them for a while, but couldn't help the self-obsessed vomit leaking out of my lips. i sought their advice about something i could do to "blow of steam" that didn't involve the cliché teenage vices. this led to a (humorous?) argument pertaining treadmills and i was back to the visions of awkardness dancing in my head.

i got home and obtained that sports bra. you know, the one i'm so proud to wear, thinking i was going to use it (ew... that might not have been the best way to describe it....), but instead settled into my normal routine. and now the feeling of grinding hips with two other people (not the good way) is floating out of my memory bank:

the anxious feeling had been twisting in my stomach all day. i know it's completely neurotic to have such an intense fear of crowds, but if you were me you'd totally understand - something inevitably will happen, in said crowd, which will proceed to haunt my "memory bank" most frequently. i waited to get to the field house (as señor williams insists is another name for the gymnasium) from my english room and could feel the water in my stomach sloshing. i walked into the gym and saw the ginormous crowd. gurgle. i finally got settled into a spot on the end (even though i was so close to the front that i started trembling from memories of basketballs past slamming into my face) and was somewhat satisfied. but that's when someone's ex decides to sit on the stairs next to me. being that he has a penis, i naturally became redder in the face than my normal piggily-head. some part of my body was already touching like three other people and i started anxiously strattling my backpact as he sat on the stair. our hips touched and i became fully aware of how my intensly-awkward feeling was making itself exteriorly known. he was hooked on the basketball game and as he jossled with excitement, our hips banged together (again, sooo dirty i know, but we had jeans in between) in the most uncomfortable way.

obviously, i wasn't going to keep up with the sporting event that was currently occuring, so i looked around at the other trillion faces in the gym. naturally, i found the familiar ones first. but as i looked around, a decidely traumatic thought made itself known: why am i the only uncomfortable one? sure, i undeniably had the worst seat in the house, but why did no one else feel as retarded as i did? everyone had a goofy smile on their face like they were actually enjoying the h-i-g-h-s-c-h-o-o-l a-s-s-e-m-b-l-y. those fuckers.

he's extra salty

because i'm such a sexual being ("WARNING! this blog may be unsu...") but i'm not the kind of girl that would share her turn-ons with the world (how scandalous!) i'm going to share my turn-offs with the world. please note, courtney, that these apply to highschool boys too (ahemmmm).

so i was watching the pilot of Friday Night Lights instead of doing my homework this afternoon. and while watching i not only took notice of the general spectacular-ness of the show, but of Coach Taylor's fingernails. most men don't take care of their fingernails and i find it to be quite the turn-off. anyway, I had already found Coach Taylor to be physically appealing, and this was just icing on the cake: his fingernails? beautifully shapen and clean, with perfect cuticles to boot! now to most girls my age, Coach Taylor is just an old man (he's played by Kyle Chandler, age 44) but I'm very mature and have been known to take a liking to men of certain....experience (like the best friend in Juno--except not with teachers, just older men. well, sometimes with teachers) ...where was i going with this?

oh yeah, my turn-offs, which can be applied to all males (i took out all the normal turnoffs that most girls [or homosexual boys] don't like and stuck with my weird ones):

- gross fingernails: 'nuf said. (or...is that just me...?)
- socks: i just don't like the look of them. like, how hard are they to hide?
- briefs: even grosser than whitie-tighties...please guys, stick with boxers (halla!)
- moles: it takes all my power not to look at them...ickkk
- speedos: most females would enjoy a tightly displayed package, but i just find these to be very feminine
- over-gelled hair: i don't want to know he tried that hard


look at those eyesssss & fingernails[coach taylor]