a fat bear

I went camping about a week ago, and besides a weird ass, splotchy tan burn and a bear trying to sit on me, it was pretty good.

I went up to Tahoe with my sister and her kids. The first night there a fat bear deiced that instead of walking around our tent, he would try to squeeze between it, and this tiny tree. Now, this bear must have been the size of a mini van, or had previously stole someone's beer, because they was plenty of room between the two with out squeezing, or falling over. But the bear did both.

The most terrifying thing was, I was awoken, in the middle of the night, to a bear making weird beat noises, in my ear.  I literally thought I was going to die. But he sat there for a while, before he diced it was time to move on. On his first attempt of passing the tent, he fell over, into the tent. Right next to my face. After he hand hauled himself up, and away from my face, he tried again. This time he got though, and pushed me, and the air maters I was laying on away from the wall of the tent.

That was the scariest night of my life.

Romantic Bullshit Thoughts.

"No one has ever loved anyone the way everyone wants to be loved." Mignon McLaughlin

I am oozing self-hatred right now.  To the point where I just want to rip my brain out of my skull, and then beat the shit out of it. Because my hatred, is my own damn fault. But I don't consciously choose to have theses series of thoughts. They just happen.

I guess I love tormenting myself. Perhaps these thoughts are produced from an obscene sense of loneliness that has rooted itself inside the depths of my soul. I haven't seen many of my friends this summer, (thanks to my job) and when I do see them they either seem to not give half a shit, or they are bored with my presence. They could also be from a serve lack of any affection I feel (as in, no affection from anyone, for any reason, for too long). Or it could be the fact that the only conversation I have had with anyone in the last few weeks has been with a five year old who harbors unwavering, pure hatred for me.

Whatever it is from, I am not pleased with it. And I wish it would go away.

I am not used to this... craving for someone to be so close (mentally? emotionally?) to me. Especially in a romantic kind of way. But this is what nonsense my brain is creating.

I guess it wouldn't be all that bad, if I could just stop certain thoughts. I day dream a lot about an odd variety of things. it usually never stays on one for too long. But now it keeps bouncing back and forth between the Kaulitz twins, and this guy i used to like. Obviously I don't like the dating scenes with  the Kaulitz twins. (When the hell would I even meet them? And even if I did, nothing would come out of it except maybe an autograph.) And this boy I used to like... well I would never allow that to happen. He is more dramatic then any female I know.

If my mind would just let me enjoy a damn daydream I wouldn't be all depressed, and whiny. But my brain always reminds me that it will not happen. For hours afterward.


As a general rule, I don't like dating/romantic relationships. You see where my anger come from?


"Real loneliness is not necessarily limited to when you are alone." Charles Bukowski

ordinary.

"Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary." Oscar Wilde

Can I just say, I want to live by this? Friendships. Romantic Relationships. Anything Breathing. Or Not.

After reading this I realized if I  did the group of people I label as friends would severely be reduced.

Perhaps I need some new friends.....

I miss being a child.

Does anyone else miss childhood holidays?

How on the 4th of July excitement would build up, in till it was oozing out of every orifice of your body?  And no matter how lame the fire works were, you were always in awe of them?

How about Christmas? Do you remember waking up in joyous hysteria because Santa Clause had come, and you rush down the hall to awaken everyone, (this was not an easy task in my house...) even though it was 4 am in the morning?

Do you remember the sheer joy of Easter? Of waking up to the smell of a delicious breakfast being lovingly made, but not stopping to enjoy the mouth watering effects in created because you wanted to  find you basket, which the Easter Bunny had hidden? Or the pure heart wrenching feeling when you can't find yours, and everyone else has? The panic welling up inside your little six year old body, in till your brother gives you a hint as to somewhere you haven't looked. Or the pure anger when your brother steals your favorite candy?

I miss those days. Every holiday was a big deal, and every emotion was so.... untainted.

My Greatest Embarrassment.

Since no one gives half a shit about my blog, I guess it wouldn't be terribly horrible if I admit my greatest embarrassment.

I am a virgin.
Worse then that, I am painfully inexperienced.
... Not by choice.

I guess I didn't have time, or just didn't want to deal with the bullshit that descend upon one's life when dealing with males. For a while that was fine. But now this fact is fucking me over, and nothing is more aggravating.

Perhaps it is just the area I live. Maybe it is my generation. Either way, I find myself repulsed my the majority of males in my basic age group.  A large portion of these males act like stereotypical girls. I am not talking feminine, (I like feminine) I am talking the full blown mood swings like they are bleeding from there penis, injecting themselves, and others foolish enough to be around them with hard core drama, and taking more time to prepare themselves for going to walmart, then it takes RuPaul to go to a red carpet event. If they are not personifying the stereotype, they smoke an exorbitant amount of weed. It is to the point where they life revolves around it, and you can tell they will not accomplish anything other then mastering the art of joint rolling. They sweat it. I find that unexceptionable, and will not allow them to be part of my life. The final group are the lying dill-weeds. They are your normal jackass types of human, but they love, love, love, to feed me lines of bullshit. There favorite is "I love an inexperienced girl.... it is cute." I have yet to hear words like that come out of a boy's mouth, and he means it. He doesn't want someone he has to teach things to. He wants a slut, who gives good head. I give it two weeks time after any similar phase is uttered out of his mouth, before he cuts all ties with you, and moves on. 


Why can't a guy prove me wrong? Its not like I will become a leech. Shit, I am pretty sure don't even want a romantic relationship. I just want I decent male to get rid of this annoying ass problem.


God, my life would be easier if I was a lesbian.

I haven't seen any parents in touch with the real world in a while.

I went to San Diego. It was amazing.

I have a job as a babysitter. They little girl has an unjustified hatred for me.

But that is not what I want to talk about.

Why are parents so eager to accept that there kids friends are "good kids".  I know my parents reason for it. They base there opinion of my life off of my friend, but most parents don't do that. (right?) (Most parents also have a different brand of crazy then mine... or so I have been repeatedly told.)

So why does the average parent do this? Shouldn't they be looking for signs to make sure they aren't hanging out with people who kill small animals, or people getting arrested before freshman year, instead of rationalizing things, and convincing themselves that there friends are "good kids"?

Lately I have been noticing how completely idiotic some parents are. Perhaps I am just a horrible person, painfully pessimistic, or what ever the hell you want to call it, but after talking to a kid (5-12) I can make a guess what general direction they are headed, and like reality of the world, most of them will not be falling under the "good kid" category. For instance, there is this ten year old little boy, and I can already tell that he is going to smoke obscene gobs of weed between 8th grade (or 7th) and the end of high school. I only pray his parents don't don't send him to private school. They have the  prescription drugs there, and he will get into so much more trouble with them. I bet you he will still be labeled as a "good kid" then, because all his friend's parents either don't know the smell of weed, or will force themselves to believe that there precious angle would never associate with someone who does that.

Perhaps it is a mix of self-inflicted blindness, and too high of a standard. For an example, I am a good kid. I don't do drugs, I have never been in trouble with the law (or even the principal for that matter), and I get decent grades in school. Yet, if I put my mind to it, I could acquire meth, cocaine, or heroin with in the hour. That does not fall under most parents idea of what comes with a  "good kid's" arsenal of knowledge.

I guess I just haven't seen any parents in touch with the real world in a while.

It makes me sad.

Finals

The administration  at my school has overcompensated for time. 

To begin with, my school's normal schedule is that on Mondays I have 2nd period, though 7th, and get out at 2:40. Tuesdays and Thursdays I have 1st period, and then all my even classes, before I get out at 3:25. Wednesday and Friday I have 1st period and then the rest of my odd classes, and get out at 3:25. So, every day (besides Mondays) 1st period is an hour, and the rest of my classes are about an hour and a half.

But, for finals, the administration created a mortified schedule for the last (this) week of school. Monday is a normal day, Tuesday will have all my classes, and Wednesday though Friday will have a normal first period, and two, two hour classes for finals. Yet, most teachers aren't using that time for anything. My history teacher is giving us a 57 question final tomorrow, (so about 40 minutes to take this test),  my English hates heavily weighed finals, so it will be 32 questions, and only 62 points. (we took a test over twice that much today on the book To Kill a Mockingbird ). My German teacher hates making lengthy tests, so it will most likely only be a hundred questions. My Chemistry final is a lab. (So about an hour long). My Math final is only 70 questions. So, the only normal size finals will my my health academy, and web design classes.

After tomorrow I won't be doing  much of anything. A few questions here and there, but not a lot of work. In fact, I can usually get more homework in one day, then all the work I will be doing in two of these days.

My only question is, why couldn't my teachers deiced to make midterms this simple?

Manson

Can anyone explain to me Charles Manson's tattoo/scar?
I know it started as an X, and became a swastika, but nothing more.
About what time did he get it?
Does he have an "explanation", or is it just another one of the crazy thing he does?

Those two things can coexist.

I have a festering interest in killers. Specifically, in serial killers.

While this may seem weird, creepy, or morbid (all words my mother likes to use), I think it is perfectly natural.

Some people like baseball. Some people like bird watching. I like building a vast knowledge on serial killers.

When ever I say that, people freak out. They give me this look that annoying little look, like they suddenly think I am mentally ill, and then they start talking to me in condescending voices, as if they were a therapist and it is the fifty's. Or a look of pure, horrified shock will stretch across there face, like they just  saw me sacrifice a lamb.

I am not going to start killing people. I am not mentally unstable.

Why is it so hard to understand that I am fine, and I like knowing about serial killers.

Those two things can coexist.

Why can't you urinat properly?

What the hell is wrong with females?

So,  over the last week I have been going on some trips that involve a decent amount of driving. So, naturally there had to be some restroom breaks, for me and the other ladies.

Now, when I stop at any public restrooms, (which I hate with all by heart, but it can not always be avoided) I have a regimen of how I pick where we stop, and what stall I use. Despite my best efforts, I have ended up in some nasty ass bathrooms. But, in my seventeen years of life, I have never missed the toilet. Even in the squatting/standing poses over the toilet with the little tissue butt protector thing is laying on the seat. (because, sometimes, you don't want to make contact.)

Yet, someone females leave a god damn puddle. I don't understand it. Were they trying to pee like a man? (They should know they need a funnel for that shit.)

Now, at first I thought that maybe a disabled person had used that stale, so I simply changed stalls with out passing judgment. But, as I saw this pattern repeating again, and again, (in increasingly narrow stalls) across California, I realized that it was not a disabled person. It was just gross ass women.

What truly disturbed me, was when a fucking human-giraffe walked out of a previously dry stall.  (I can rule out any idea of here having a handicapped, since we go to school together, therefore there is no excuse) Now, I am not sure how the hell she manged to fuck up urinating that badly. The toilet is half my damn height, and I can make it without sitting on the seat. This girl towers over people at 6'2, so you think it wouldn't be a problem. But when she walked out, there was a fucking pool of piss.

Why in the hell are women doing this? It's not like we have to aim. We sit down. You have to try, to get it on the floor. But why in god's name, would you??

Can anyone explain this to me?

Hello?

I've been thinking of switching to tumblr. Seriously thinking about it.
Is anyone even here anymore?

My life.

My life is kind of one long ass awkward moment.

The World.

Right now, the world is a bar at 3:30 in the morning. It's not a biker bar, or a sleazy sketchy bar. Its more of a bar that would be on the Jersey Shore.

So, America rolls into the bar, all smug, wearing an Ed Hardy shirt, and looking like one of those middle aged guys who has too much money, and is trying to be 21 again. England is in the corner, drooling over France. France is in the back, giving mixed singles to England, while gossiping about America. Germany is at the bar, just drinking in silence. Africa is the crazy ass guy on the dance floor, who looks schizophrenic because he is arguing with himself, but no one goes and tries to get them help, because he is a little sketchy.  Australia is at the bar drinking beer. Russia is sitting next to Germany looking skeptical. China is still at work. Columbia is snorting cocaine off of Brazil's ass. Mexico is smoking a fat bowl. Spain is minding her own damn business. India is  trying to get people to relax. The Irish are looking for a ride home.

Then someone tells America Iraq is pissed at them. America over reacts, and starts gathering his friends. France tells him she just lit her cigarette, so she can't help us. He tries to get Germany to help, since Germany hasn't been in a fight in about 50 years, but he sits there and yells "I've change mother fucker!". England decides to back us, and Australia pops up out of no where, like that one crazy cousin everybody has, and agrees with everything we do. We go out to the parking lot, and punch Iraq in the face, and knock him out. Everyone is suddenly pissed at America, when they find out that Iraq wasn't pissed to begin with. Then North Korea is waiting for South Kora at her car. Iran starts taking swings at America.

Chaos breaks out. Someone says Norway is fucking Finland in the bathroom, but no one really knows/cares. Africa's liver starts fighting itself. Russia and Japan are trying to stay out of the fight. Columbia freaks out, and runs to flush his stash. Brazil falls off the table, with a smear of cocaine still on her ass. Greece starts crying in the corner. Spain has disappeared.

And the night ends badly.

Apparently the internet thinks I am really smart.

Apparently the internet thinks I am really smart.

Do you know the little boxes that are on practically every website, that say "people you might know",  "suggested blogs", or anything of that sort? Well, on every website I am on, they give me links to people all over the world. (None to people I really do know, or (most of the time) blogs I am interested in, of course.) If you believe these little boxes, I know the entirety of Norway, half of Poland, and an interesting mix of other Europeans.

How does this relate to my intelligence level? Well, to know all these people, or read all of these blogs, I would need to know at least 12 languages.

I can honestly tell you that the programmers of these boxes are clueless. I only know English (and a few words in German and Spanish), and certain day I wonder if I even know English very well at all.

I only wish I knew that many people from around the world, but I only know a few people out of my state, none of which are outside of the United States' boarders.

I do wish I could read more languages. Some blogs seem like something I would love to read, but I can't. (Side note: Google Translator doesn't work very well unless the person is using text book language.) (Text book language is the prim and proper way of saying things, (The correct way.) but no one who speaks it fluently speaks that way.) (Why do classes teach us text book language if no one talks that way?)

The Phantom of the Opera.

I was beyond excited last night.
I had the movie, The Phantom of the Opera.
One of my absolute favorite books is a spin off of the play, all about the phantom and his life.
It is a magnificent book.
So, I excepted the movie to be at least decent.
It wasn't.

The actors/actress were wonderful.
The music was beautiful.
The setting, (while at times not even close to what I pictured) was sensational.
But I wasn't happy with the movie.

It was lacking the depth.
It wasn't even close to a fourth of the depth of anything else I have read about this script.

So all the surface beauty of the movie, was diminish.

I am beyond disappointed with it.
So I am pissed.

Last Weekend.

I don't think I have put it out for the world to know what I did last weekend. 

I went to the zoo, and Hooters, for my best friend's 17th birthday.

The zoo was fun, minus the asshole who kept mocking the lions with a kitten noise on his phone, and then when my friend told him to stop, he implied some not very nice things about our whole group. My friend's mom suddenly became very scary. :)

Mostly, we had fun though. 

We saw this demon bird that mangle a mouse, then give it to Lady Demon Bird.

I found out anteaters are big.... really big.

Then we went to Hooters. If you don't know, Hooters is a restaurant, that dress its waitress in booty shorts, and tight, low cut shirts. The decor is basically sports, and pictures of half naked women. Admittedly, I was a bit uncomfortable there at first, since it was about 15 creepy old men. But the old men left us alone. (Probably because they were not only shocked at our gender, age, and our presence there, but at our quantity, and the ecstatic noise we made.) Surprisingly, the food was AMAZING. It was one of the best meals I have ever had. Also, I tried deep fried pickles for the first time. DELICIOUS.

It was a day of lovely adventures.

I hate tampon commercials.

I hate tampon commercials.

I do not know anyone who will take a frolic in an innocent little field of flowers in a dress on a daily basses. Nor do I know anyone who runs around jumping out of planes, and doing an obscene amount of high kicks.

Also, women do not particularity twirl in circles a lot.

As for those birth control commercials..... who the hell becomes the magnificently happy while on the pill?

Every time I see one of these commercials I get confused. Who in the hell are these commercials based off of? Why aren't these women getting the psychiatric help they need?

Don't Drown your Food

I don't understand the point in drowning a hamburger or hot dog in condiments .  Isn't the point of eating something to taste it?

I understand putting a few, to contribute to the taste, or add more texture, but some people just take it too far.

On hamburgers I usually put pickles. Often I put cheese, but that is when I am cooking, so I count it as part of the burger itself. I don't think a good burger should have to have any added sauce to it.

As for hot dogs (or tofu burgers), ketchup or BBQ sauce is added conservatively, unless the meat was flavored while cooking.

The point of making something is so you can taste its deliciousness, not mask it with an obscene amount of toppings. The only time that is ok is when its ice cream.

Smart Man

"There's nothing better than good sex.  But bad sex?  A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is better than bad sex."  ~Billy Joel

Sad Face

I am sad.

My New Years was lovely.

But I am still sad.