Info?

The 365 days, isn't based on real life. (Thank god...)
And I am reconsidering my thoughts on this.... I think I am mentally ill after writing, for the sole fact, I can write what I am writing.

Would you believe that in real life I am a semi-normal, happy person?

More tomorrow. (late tomorrow. I might not post on here, but I will write. I'm doing a both tomorrow for GSA)

365-- Day 4 --- 8/31/10

"Where the fuck have you been? I thought I told you to be home after school..." the banshee that is my mother screeched at me.



"He was most likely out getting fucked the some fucking girl." The pompous fool (my father) interrupted.



That shithead did not just interrupt me.

Oh god... I shouldn't have said that, it was probably true. What the hell is wrong with hi...

 I could feel myself involuntarily wincing at the mental image he threw out so carelessly.

"Was I talking to you douche bag? No. Now,"



Take that shitface.

"Bitch, who do you think you are talking to?" 


Whore is just asking to get hurt.

Before either one had a chance to refocuses there energy on me, I plastered my self to the wall, and slunk up the flight of curving stairs, past two different exists, down the short corridor, and into my sanctuary. 
There voices became muffled, while there inner voices continued to belt each other with silent hatred. My sanity can in a form of a sleek, over the ear cushions, which drowned out everyone else.

Not for the first time in my life, I resented god for cursing me with the "gift" of  the once a month trip the social worker came out here to "check up on us".

God, if that social worker could only hear what I hear... no. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Thoughts are meant to be private.

356-- Day 3 -- 8/30/10

The two mile gap faded into one, and from one to a half, but with each millimeter, the air grew thicker with varying emotions of rage and thoughts of violence in till it was enough to suffocate me. Fighting the urge to turn and run, I pulled myself onwards, by the sole fact that the later I was today, and angrier they would be at me, instead of each other.

In all honesty, I couldn't tell which was worse -- there jumbled incoherent thoughts that raged with undefined anger that blared in till they passed out, or there focused thoughts, that were somewhat quieter, but by far, much more painful due to there honesty. The dull door knob faced me; almost as if it were sad I had to enter this den of putrid people, in what was once a magnificent house. Just grazing my finger tips against the coopery colored knob sharpened the thoughts I had been so desperately trying to ignore.

My husband is such a fuck-up. Why couldn't I have married Brad? He has his own business now, unlike my worthless piece of shit I'm stuck with... I mean...

God damn that woman is a cow. How the hell did I marry this bitch? All she does is complain. I swear to god if she doesn't shut her fucking mouth I am going to...

At the same moment, they seemed to realize that I had entered the house. Even though I had successfully taken off my boots, and made it to the bottom of the stairs undetected there thoughts were now aimed at me.

Look at my fucking useless child. Why the hell did I get stuck with a gay-ass son?

"And where have you been?" my mothers shrill voice raged.

My son is a fucking faggot. Wait no... I don't have a son. I have a daughter. HA!

These were sadly, the people the I shared DNA with.

 

365 Days -- Day Two --- 8/29/10

The coldness, wetness, and the wind, did nothing to hurry my pace. The rain still poured, I still walked, and my increasing dread grew stronger, and stronger. I, like most teenagers, did not enjoy going home, but it was highly doubtful that anyone else had to deal with my home life (or any other aspect of my life for that matter). Under my feet, the harsh gravel, turned into soft mud and sunk beneath my feet with a squishing noise. My trepidation grew even more, but this was nothing new. My feet steadily took me forward, as I began to sense the very air’s essence change to pure anger. Instead of being passed out, scavenging for beer, or just in general not home, they were sober, and irrationally angry.

365--Day One 8/28/10

I am starting it.
Rules:
Six sentences every day.
If I skip a day, I have to start over again.
I only fail if I give up. 

The cold rain poured down her skin as the dark sky clanged above her. The old gravel lane she trudged down was coated with a thin layer of muck, which also covered the faded jeans that concealed her calves, as well as her old, well used combat boots. She pulled her jacket tighter around her as the onslaught of water from the sky turned into a suicide bombing as sharp, ice bullets. She continued o trek onwards, to house that only held shelter from the weather, but little else. The washed out gray form of gravel only added to the blandness of the road that surrounded her -- it's surrounds were a sickly brown fields, while almost any buildings in sight was a lukewarm color. She knew that down each turn, a bright farm house in a sky blue, or sunrise yellow, awaited, accompanied with a fire red barn, and a place of refuge. That was, all the turns, but one.

Crush of the Week One

So, once a week (hopefully) I will post, the crush of the week.(Or crush worthy of mentioning.) (For reference, I'm straight.)

The Irresistible Man:

Shin

He is shy. He is quiet. He has an alternate personality. He is hot as hell. He is the man crush of the week.

The Lady Love:

Mistress Justine Cross

She is the licker.

She is strong. She is tough. She isn't afraid to beat the shit out of you, while raping your mind. Also, she is... sexually assertive. She is the Lady Crush of the Week.

Too Happy.

Oh dear lord. My last blog was depressing, and not in a "wow, her life is really pathetic" kind of way, like it was last year. This is more of a "wow. she is way to god damn perky. what is she on?" kind of way.

I'm Sorry.

Perhaps I will start that 365 writing thing on here to even it out?

What do you think?

(The blog about 365 writing was about 4 blogs ago.)

My world has fliped upside down. What the hell is going on?

The answer?

Life

I am the worst player on my "team". (Tennis)

The Literary Magazine sponsor (the teacher who ran it) quit, and is moving to Tahoe, before we even had a ligament meeting.

I had a chunk of flesh missing from my leg that refuses to heal.

My arm is sore from tennis.

My Chemistry teacher is an ass .

I have to bake cookies next Tuesday for a bake sale. (It's in the 90s or plus degrees.)

But, oddly enough, I am completely happy with my life.

I love my friends.

I (I'm embarrassed to say this) like being in these clubs.

I will get better at tennis, and even if I don't, I will have fun.

I mess with my chemistry teacher's head. (By the end of every class he thinks I have some new mental/emotional problems. Last class it was bipolar.)

Life is good.

When the fuck did I get so positive?

Has my mother been slipping me Prozac? (It's likely....)

I have lost my mind, that's all.

Indeed. I have lost it. It is far beyond gone. Out of grasp. Out of sight.Out of thoughts, pots, and lollipops.

I have become... socially active.

Did you feel that? That was the Earth, which happened to stop spinning, and in case you are wondering, it is preparing itself to implode.

I have joined GSA, Literary Magazine, and the worst yet, Tennis. (Also, HOSA might come soon too -- I'm not sure.)  (I even like all of the clubs. Crazy shit right?)

Want to know something even worse? 

They are all clubs at my school. 

People expect me to have school spirit. 

I hope they don't mind being let down.

Don't pull this, I-am-soooo-deep crap on me.

I really hate all the little I'm-super-duper-deep-and-pensive people.

Ok, we all have deep thoughts occasionally, but, in case you are unaware, you are a teenager. There is no way in hell you can be that wise. Or shrewd. Or  insightful. You haven't been living long enough. It's not like your some 90 year old who has traveled the world, been in a war,  done everything exciting and and have lived to tell of it, but now you are exceedingly bitter for some regret you think of all the time that happened 70 years ago. Get over yourself.

So, I should  specify. Having opinions, or thinking deeply does not make you this type of person. There are those ridiculously rare  people who really do think deeply about everything all the time, but that is not the same. No, these are the people who point out, at every doable opportunity that they are have such deep thoughts about everything. 

Do you know the kind of people I am talking about?

And the ones who have the I'm-more-holy-then-thou attitude really, really piss me off.

To those people:

No, in fact you are not better then me, the girl who sits three seats away from me in chemistry, my German teacher, or batman. If anything, you are just a bigger douche bag.

Dreading Activities

So, I have rather shocking news.

I'm going to become socially active in school activities. Crazy right? (More like terrifying and sicking to me.)

So, the thought behind it is, I need stuff to go on scholarship forms and collage applications, so I have to seem smart. So, I am joining the Literary Club, and possibly the Academic Decathlon. (My friend wants me to join GSA, which I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to use that specific club just for an application. That seems bitchy, and morally wrong. I'm being a hypocrite, aren't I?)

In all honesty, I would have most likely joined the Literary club anyways, since it's new. Hopefully this is the club I think it is, otherwise I have no idea in hell what I am getting myself into. If it is what I think, I will be aiming for editor, so it's not just sickeningly happy stories, but we will see.

I guess since I'm not popular, or athletic, I'm stuck in the "nerdy" clubs. Only problem is, I'm not that smart.

Wish me luck?

365 writing?

You know those corny 365 day projects? Well, I secretly think they are cool. (But still kind of cheesy.) I also wish I could do one.

So, I thought about this, and came up with two plans. While one seems cooler and much more exciting, it will most likely lead to failure. So if  I do it, I would go with Plan B, so at least have a shot at completing it.

So, here is the possible plan. Since I like to write stories, I will write everyday for 365 days. I minimum of 6 sentences. And then post it on here.

Can I do it?

Should I do it?

When should I start?

That means, a minimum of 2190 sentences.

Also, some questions. Should I just add on to unfinished (98% of my stories) stories? Or stick with just one brand new story? Should I mix them? If I mix them should I say that I need to write at lest x amount of times on the new story? Or the old ones?

Will I just be wasting my time?

Will I become a half way decent writer?

Should I do it?

School?

So, I'm back in school.

I shall make a painful story short. The fight for me to be in German was World War Three.
I won.
Now, as long as I go good in this class, I won't have to take Spanish next year.


Other then that, I am liking school this year. Of course, the people who don't know how to chew gum have already started to annoy the hell out of me. It is shocking though. I only have one class with people who don't know how to chew!(Perhaps I should start a class to show people how they should chew gum...)

It could be with the fact that the Health Academy classes aren't really Health Academy. (In case you don't know, I am in this program/class called Health Academy. I might talk more about it later. EX. what it is.) We usually have a the majority of our classes together, in one big group. Last year it four out of seven classes, and in the other 3 at least 1/3 to half were made up of the same group of people.

Not so much this year. And I am liking it. The only sad part is, I don't have as many classes with my friend Stefine. (only 3) Good news is I have friends in 5 of my classes.I have one class where I know some one I can at least partner with. (so that means I'm only the awkward kid in one class!)  Even better news, is even the two classes I have with the academy, isn't like last year. It is like half the academy kids, and half random kids, because the person who usually grouped us, retired.  (I should have chemistry with the academy, but I am in actual chemistry instead of Chem A.) 


Also, German and Web Design are tied for my favorite class right now. Web design because it is epic, and German because I want to learn German, and because there is a small posse of Jrs (5 of us) whom I am friends with and we all have gooood times.

So, if you can't tell, I am pumped about school this year for a change.

If only I could do something about the early-ness...

Odd example of False Advertisment?

So, last night is was extremely tempted to buy false advertisement, and I am riddled with guilt for it.

So, I went shopping in Kmart of certain school objects, such as pens, notebooks, and a new bra. Since my white one is almost dead I deiced to go for white-- you can't usually find mind-blowing cool bras at Kmart. (I can't anyways.) So, it was down to the only two I picked up, but one made me look an entire cup size bigger. It was beyond awesome. (In case you don't know, I have small boobs, so this is a good thing.)

I was so very tempted to buy it -- it teased and taunted me mercilessly -- but I deiced against it, because it is after all, a form of false advertisement, which I really don't like.

So, with this guilt gnawing on my brain I began to think, when do I start to classify things as false? I will admit that most of my bras give a little push, but nothing crazy. I think it is just a small fib, since it isn't drastic, but would other people call that false? (Although, only a few will realize this if I don't tell them, and if they find out on there own, it better be an after-thought because they have superior things on there mind. ;)

Where do people draw the line for that type of stuff? Not just boobs, but everything in general?

Sorry for my awkward example. Well... it's not awkward for me. Perhaps only you?