Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
sadness where there should be none
there's a lot of tension today. i can cut it with a knife. or rather, not cut it, as it is that thick. the weather is characteristically dismal and lame-ass. i'm bummed out that emma watson is moving to this state because honestly she's only going to have poor things to say about it when she inevitably leaves two days in. dear jesus i hope twin cities live doesn't catch on to this. the royal wedding is bringing me extreme anxiety. poor poor kate middleton. i hope she'll start eating again once this stressfest is up.
and that has been today's pessimistic comments on society. sorry internet.
and that has been today's pessimistic comments on society. sorry internet.
Monday, April 25, 2011
waste-of-space-post
before i write this i would like to say that i'm a sweaty person--i acknowledge my perspiration problem and now we can move on.
i really like the heat. you know how people say they can never sleep when it's hot? well, i'm the opposite. i sleep amazingly. the heat suffocates me into a slow slumber that i can't wait to experience more of. on the contrary, when i'm cold, it's all i think about---from my frigid nose to my freezing toes---and then i never sleep.
so today i was the only person in the entire school (i surveyed each student) who wore a winter jacket. sort of out of habit, sort of out of knowing the high will be around 40 tomorrow, but mostly because i know it will make me warmer. instead of fully taking advantage of the new spring weather, i try to bundle up so i can appreciate the sun without obsessing over the goosebumps blanketing my pillowy arms.
the end.
i really like the heat. you know how people say they can never sleep when it's hot? well, i'm the opposite. i sleep amazingly. the heat suffocates me into a slow slumber that i can't wait to experience more of. on the contrary, when i'm cold, it's all i think about---from my frigid nose to my freezing toes---and then i never sleep.
so today i was the only person in the entire school (i surveyed each student) who wore a winter jacket. sort of out of habit, sort of out of knowing the high will be around 40 tomorrow, but mostly because i know it will make me warmer. instead of fully taking advantage of the new spring weather, i try to bundle up so i can appreciate the sun without obsessing over the goosebumps blanketing my pillowy arms.
the end.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Post entitled, "Dear BitchSister."
[composed last night..under conditions not recommended by a sobered up poster.]
Dear BitchSister,
I did not appreciate that after risking my life for you I didn't recieve a single thank you, word of sympathy, encouragement or gratitude in return. May you go fuck yourself with none of the vast pleasure the world has to offer.
When I recieved my driver's license, I recieved the God-given right to pick you up from your friends' houses. I get that, because from a very young age I was instilled with one of the stricter Checks-and-Guilt-Systems known to man. But did I expect that I would have to risk my life in a night of Zero Visibilty to go pick you up in HickVille? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I was scared out of my mind as a tornado of sleet stormed the windshield and my fragile car was tossed from lane to lane from that fuckery of wind.
Let's begin this letter of formal fuckyouiness with a list of unnerving half-questions.
1. First of all, I wonder, how in God's glorious Name did you choose a best friend who lives an extraordinary 27 minutes away? How? I know personally, when I chose my best friends, I mapquested their houses and compared estimated arrival times. Did you take this considerate step before befriending this person? Of course you didn't. Because you hate me, don't you? And of course, if you didn't mapquest the original arrival time you certainly didn't taken into account WEATHER DELAYS, did you? But oh no. You liked that I was late, didn't you? You could spend more time macking on your "gay bestfriend!" (unnerving question to follow.)
2. Why in God's glorious Name, did you feel the need to BLAST "My Last" while I was driving through the tornado of doom? Did you not find the coincidence of the song to be so unsettling you wanted to puke? Because I sure did. (Lyric sample: "Imma Imma hit this drank up like it's my last, imma imma hit this night up like its my last." Stupid Chris Brown.)
3. Why did you have to drag your friend with us? Why couldn't his sister pick him up in the weather of doom?! Finding his house in the weather was basically a cat-call to die. Not only did he give directions like "Turn at 12 o'clock" which doesn't even make sense because by the time I get to "12 o'clock" it'll actually be "9 o'clock" because that's how turns work, but he stank my car up like only a preteen can. AND WHEN I ASK, who the hell he is, GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER, PLEASE. "He's my gay best friend." "He's gay?" "Not to my knowledge." "Well, IDIOT, it's not a great idea to lie about someone's sexual orientation on the DAY OF GODDAMN SILENCE." Did you find that conversation courtly? I sure did.
Then then then, my sweet, little, naive sister....trying to show your femininity by daintily running from my car to the garage upon reaching the house. You ballsy Protestant, you.
Yes, we reached our house safe and sound. Was I surprised? Yes. Were you? No. WERE YOU GOING TO THANK ME FOR RISKING LIFE in the hellish nowhere that is STILLWHITER (driving on 36, alone, slightly confused as to where i turn, with a hurricane---wait i said tornado---tornado of sleet "storming the windshield" was seriously one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life.)
Like I said. May you go fuck yourself with none of the vast pleasure the world has to offer.
Yours Truly,
Colonel Meghan Lee
Dear BitchSister,
I did not appreciate that after risking my life for you I didn't recieve a single thank you, word of sympathy, encouragement or gratitude in return. May you go fuck yourself with none of the vast pleasure the world has to offer.
When I recieved my driver's license, I recieved the God-given right to pick you up from your friends' houses. I get that, because from a very young age I was instilled with one of the stricter Checks-and-Guilt-Systems known to man. But did I expect that I would have to risk my life in a night of Zero Visibilty to go pick you up in HickVille? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I was scared out of my mind as a tornado of sleet stormed the windshield and my fragile car was tossed from lane to lane from that fuckery of wind.
Let's begin this letter of formal fuckyouiness with a list of unnerving half-questions.
1. First of all, I wonder, how in God's glorious Name did you choose a best friend who lives an extraordinary 27 minutes away? How? I know personally, when I chose my best friends, I mapquested their houses and compared estimated arrival times. Did you take this considerate step before befriending this person? Of course you didn't. Because you hate me, don't you? And of course, if you didn't mapquest the original arrival time you certainly didn't taken into account WEATHER DELAYS, did you? But oh no. You liked that I was late, didn't you? You could spend more time macking on your "gay bestfriend!" (unnerving question to follow.)
2. Why in God's glorious Name, did you feel the need to BLAST "My Last" while I was driving through the tornado of doom? Did you not find the coincidence of the song to be so unsettling you wanted to puke? Because I sure did. (Lyric sample: "Imma Imma hit this drank up like it's my last, imma imma hit this night up like its my last." Stupid Chris Brown.)
3. Why did you have to drag your friend with us? Why couldn't his sister pick him up in the weather of doom?! Finding his house in the weather was basically a cat-call to die. Not only did he give directions like "Turn at 12 o'clock" which doesn't even make sense because by the time I get to "12 o'clock" it'll actually be "9 o'clock" because that's how turns work, but he stank my car up like only a preteen can. AND WHEN I ASK, who the hell he is, GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER, PLEASE. "He's my gay best friend." "He's gay?" "Not to my knowledge." "Well, IDIOT, it's not a great idea to lie about someone's sexual orientation on the DAY OF GODDAMN SILENCE." Did you find that conversation courtly? I sure did.
Then then then, my sweet, little, naive sister....trying to show your femininity by daintily running from my car to the garage upon reaching the house. You ballsy Protestant, you.
Yes, we reached our house safe and sound. Was I surprised? Yes. Were you? No. WERE YOU GOING TO THANK ME FOR RISKING LIFE in the hellish nowhere that is STILLWHITER (driving on 36, alone, slightly confused as to where i turn, with a hurricane---wait i said tornado---tornado of sleet "storming the windshield" was seriously one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life.)
Like I said. May you go fuck yourself with none of the vast pleasure the world has to offer.
Yours Truly,
Colonel Meghan Lee
BOLOGNA SANDWICH
I went downstairs this morning (after being awoken by a child yelling down the street), pointed outside, and told my mom "bologna sandwich." now, we were both thinking "bullshit" but i think the message got across. i kind of think the snow is funny now, because of 2 funny little incidences:
(1) Sonia yelling at me in the car, like a day ago, declaring "spring was here" and I was being stupid for not believing.
(2) Last night it started snowing/raining/mostly snowing and I had to drive to the middle of nowhere to pick up my sister. I seriously thought I was going to die. I even called my mom halfway through and told her about the situation and that I was going to be home real late because of my slow driving. When I came home, of course, my mom was in bed, not a worry across her face. Then I wrote a letter-like post to my sister, who had been a real bitch about the situation. That will be posted soon.
(1) Sonia yelling at me in the car, like a day ago, declaring "spring was here" and I was being stupid for not believing.
(2) Last night it started snowing/raining/mostly snowing and I had to drive to the middle of nowhere to pick up my sister. I seriously thought I was going to die. I even called my mom halfway through and told her about the situation and that I was going to be home real late because of my slow driving. When I came home, of course, my mom was in bed, not a worry across her face. Then I wrote a letter-like post to my sister, who had been a real bitch about the situation. That will be posted soon.
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