Maple Syrup

If you are wondering why I am not looking at the camera, it's because when my face is turned towards it, I look like this:

I learned that word from someone who's angry with me... -melancholy sigh-

I will not be posting proper posts on the blog for two weeks, until school is out, chicas! I will post small bits here and there, but not every day, unless I become accustomed to not sleeping.

I will also not be on facebook or msn or anything like that. I will keep myself off and away from the computer at all times.

1) Oh, and I found your goddamned cell phone charger.

2) And I'm probably not going to Quest.

3) And I'm sorry, I really am.

4) And I think you're supa kewl too, love bug.

See if you can match who you are to who I'm talking about.

OFF TO HARDCORE STUDY AND BE ALL AROUND COOL.

Lots of lurve..

Ter

This is difficult. Because someone is mad at me. And I'm hoping she'll read this, and cease to be angry. But I don't want to say too much, because that may or may not be why she's mad at me in the first place..

First of all. I understand where you're coming from. And I'm sorry, I really am. I never thought it would affect you like this. I never, ever want to hurt your feelings.

Second, I can't fix it. Not really. I will not do it again, but I can't fix what I already did.. I wish I could though.

...

I wonder if this is all about this particular incident, or if there's more. I almost hope that there's more you haven't told me, so I have the opportunity to fix other mistakes.

Grad is so very close. And I want to make peace with you. I want you to forgive me, so we can put the hurt behind us.

I don't know how upset you are about this, but it's really making me depressed. I can't feel happy knowing that you're angry. I can't look forward to everything coming up when I feel like you hate me, even a little bit.

I want to talk to you, the next chance we get. I'll bug you about this tomorrow, I promise.

But it usually works when you get a chance to tell me all your feelings over msn or on the phone. I don't want to make you uncomfortable by talking at school. 

I won't be on msn tonight. Sleep deprivation and all.

Tomorrow, okay?

But please treat me nice.

I'm hurting just as much as you.

Lets please not turn this into another breakup.

Our group can't handle the damage.

Like a famous person once said in a famous quotation; "Joanna's behind the hotel. And, m'dear? Fetch me my slippers"

Recognize it?

I'm going to drop it in every conversation I ever have.

And Zhe Fratellis sex up my world.

So, if you've got a spare hour, listen to them. It's impossible to stop.

Love times a million.

I do enjoy teas.

Flavored teas, the best.

Sooooo.

Tea party?

Or we can do a strip tease in Leigh's Square, but that might get us arrested like Serena.

Oui.

Hardcore GG reference right there.

Hard. Core.

I'm nude, again, fyi.

I  don't fit into any of my clothes, seeing as I've eaten the majority of an italian village. Slash a large milkshake.

Tomorrow, I'm going on a long car ride with my mother, who doesn't like me much at the moment.

And I will eat my weight in bubblegum, and water, savoring the lack of calories, and ignoring the grumbly tummy. For that milkshake had thousands of calories.

Even stevens, kaykay?

I'm still sad.

Sad like a fish without it's father.

lettuce bee friends :)

Oh, the causualties that happen when you pretend to be stone.

So, over the weekend, I'm going to spend a lot of time inside my head.

And hopefully I'll fix all my personality issues.

And come back perfect, and not all screwed up.

Although, I enjoy some bits of the screwed upness.

Liiiike. Adrenaline. I like being addicted to adrenaline.

It makes my heart beat faster, and it makes all the sad feelings go away.

And I like my emoness, to an extent.

Maybe I could just fix a few things.

Like my ability to speak without thinking.

Gone.

And my inability to come on time to school.

Vanished.

And my obsession with him.

Poof.

Maybe they wont go away though.

Maybe they're ingrained in my soul.

But I hope not.

Okay.

I'm off to read "The Undomestic Goddess"

Talie, if you haven't read that yet, I should lend it to you.

It's lovely :)

So.

Enjoy life without me, people.

I'm living in a cave, my family and myself for company.

Question:

Am I a good liar?

Because I didn't think so.

But someone said I was.

I don't know.

It confuses me.

Prolly better if I don't tell untruths, and instead to have faerie blood in me veins.

'Cos they can't lie.

Ouiness?

Lovee. me.

Congrat's all, it's me again. Terra, bitch.

Life is hating me again. The only good thing about my day was that I may have gotten lovely aviator sunglasses, that are super duper epic. Ooh. Picture app....

Wow. that's weird.

BASK IN MY SUNGLASSES, WENCHES!

Because I love you all.

In fact. I feel like getting married. Anyone up for it?

Uh oh. My badassbritneyspears song ended.

So I'm not nearly as hardcore right now.

Sooo fail.

-Changes song-

Thank goodness and all that jazz for Cobra Starship, who I can never quite stop worshipping.

So. Everyone's hating on me today. Not just one, or even two people. More like five.

Far too many for my own sanity.

In fact.

I might go off and be insane, and not in a cool way. More like a, spoon licking, over using of the tear ducts, hand glued to a remote control type of insane.

I'm practically just living from day to day. It's not that much fun. But the future is dark, ominous, and empty.

Not so much fun to focus on.

Sadly, when it gets to this point of depression, I cheer myself up by saying "You'll see him tomorrow."

I might. I'm sad.

Phoning people is distressing.

But I might do it anyways.

Computer isn't personal, it's all business.

Now I go, still an epic fail, still depressed, and still hated by all the people that matter.

Sooo.... Fuck my life.

At least my sunglasses are cool.

And I might see him tomorrow...

(Oh god, I'm pathetic)

After fun, there's this low. You know what I'm talking about, right? After something with friends, and everyone's laughing, and having a good time, and then all of a sudden, you're home alone, parents out, cell phones off, no one to talk to, nobody to stave off the complete and utter loneliness.

And there's one person that I didn't want to be without. I thought I would be okay this weekend. I deluded myself into thinking that it was getting better, not worse. I told myself that this weekend was going to be fine, and I wouldn't miss him at all. Then I missed the after school talking bit. And I pretty much crumbled.

Being around people made me less depressed. But everything I did was to impress him, even though he wasn't there. I was constantly looking around for him, hoping to see him, when I knew he wasn't there.

When I walked into my empty home, the last thing I wanted to do was to be alone with myself.

I didn't want to feel this hopeless pain, a feeling that never quite goes away.  I wanted distraction, something to make me forget, even if just for a moment.

I turned around, and left again.

I wanted to go somewhere near a road, in case he drove by, I wanted to be in the light, so he could see me. I wanted to be somewhere where he could join me.

I chose to sit at the very top of the slide at the elementary school playground. I faced the road, turned on the creepiest music I owned, and waited for someone, who was not going to come.

A man and his dog came to see me, and tried to get me to come down, but I pretended I couldn't hear them. I turned my music up loud, and texted, trying to enjoy the feeling of adrenaline that the night air and the scary music, and the possible danger of a man who most likely thought I was suicidal.

The man left, and I was alone, again, with the ache, and the sadness, and the cold.

If it wasn't so damn cold, I'd probably be there right now.

I stood to leave, and then it happened again. But better.

It was a van. His van.

Right model, right color, right license plate.

It was him.

Again, my body responded before my mind did, and I broke into a run, trying to follow. I realized as I grabbed my cell phone, as to keep it from falling, like it did the time before, just how pathetic I was.

I followed him to a four way stop, and lost him again. The same four way stop that I lost the other van before.

Red lights blinked in the distance, and my feet started to walk after them, but I stopped myself. The streets were black, with slight orange glow every couple blocks. If I followed, I would be in the dark most of the time. 

I was so empty, desperate shards of hope all I had.

I thought about the three days I had before me, stretched long with wasted time and being alone.

I thought about following the van down the road, into the unknown blackness, at nearly ten at night.

I wondered what would happen if I managed to follow him, stalking him to his house, watching him leave his car, enter into the building. I'd probably wait a moment, to see if he would come out again, knowing that he wouldn't. I'd memorize his address, and probably go there every day, all weekend.

I wondered what would happen if I went home, sinking into my black hole. I pictured sitting down at my computer, trying to cheer myself up with happy music, and pretending to be a complete person.

I chose to go home, because of the dark. I told myself, as a proper mother should, that it was too dark to chase after ghosts. That it was late, and I needed to get myself in a warm place.

And so I followed my own advice, and went home unwillingly, wishing I had chosen the other option the whole way home.

The cold and the dark didn't raise my adrenaline anymore. I was completely empty, no high from the night could help.

I made it home alive, if that's what you're wondering. I ran the last bit home, and checked my e-mail to see if he sent anything (He never has).

I'm so screwed up.

Another three days until I can be at school again, another weekend down the drain. Another week of hopes, and disappointment. Then another weekend of complete depression.

When I was so depressed last friday, I felt like life was coming to an end. I changed my facebook status to say I was having a mid life crisis. That's what it felt like.

High school is my life. And it is almost ending, killing me. He is my life, and soon I will never see him again.

Yesterday, over facebook, he said to me "LOL at your status".

It was about him.

He asked me if I was planning on dying at 30. And I can't even imagine living at thirty.

His status was saying he had gotten into the university of his choice.

His life is moving onward. Mine is hanging by a thread.

Three days. And then everything resumes.

Six reasons why my life sucks.

1) I am breaking out like Sirius from Azkaban.

2) My feet hurt.

3) I just maybe was called names by someone that everyone knows who I am talking about, hopefully. And I'm not sure what that means.

4) I have this weird daydream that involves coats, that is NEVER going to come true.

5) I got 63% on my Biology midterm.

And the most important reason:

6) I just realized how creepy I am.

But, to even out my self confidence...

Six reasons why my life doesn't suck so much.

1) I have a box of chocolates in my room.

2) I have TWO gay pride bracelets.

3) Joaqui's hair is my new obsession.

4) I just talked to someone on facebook, and although I was called something I didn't know what it meant, it was cute-ish.

5) I am going to have a shower, and I might eat aforementioned chocolates in there, possibly with manga.

And the top reason why my life doesn't suck?

6) He said he has a poem to show me in class tomorrow.

So yeah. Pretty even stuff, eh? But not really.

Um.

I'm pathetic.

Please give me things so that I do not turn to dust. Like, a flower. Or invitingmeandhimtosomeeventthatwouldnotbecreppybutwouldallowustohangoutinanonschoolenviromenteventhough heispregnantwithyourFASchild. -coughAshleyycough-

:D

Off to the shower I go.

or as some people call it...

NAT.

:)

Shiver me timbers. I was planning on going to bed early, so my eyes wouldn't be bloodshot and druggy-like tomorrow, when I wear contacts. And then I realized that I had a coffee at five, when I was watching pre-recorded gossip girl, and gasping at tow weeks ago's exploits. And I just finished my second one, which was, sadly, better, from Timmies, after wandering the streets, people creeping with Maggie.

So, sleep?

Don't think so. I am going to have a relaxing bath time, and try to make myself tired, so I can be in bed before midnight.

When I was at Timmies, we ran into two people that I knew. One of which wouldn't find the fact that I had my hair in Sailor Moon buns, had a gift wrap ribbon wrapped around my head, and had dandelion fluff embedded in my hair as very odd for my persona, and one that possibly might, and also might possibly pass it on to someone who I don't want to think of me as that type of weird.

If that makes sense.

I'm starting to not look towards this summer with dread. It's not changing, I am just becoming slowly less attached to school, and trying to be optimistic.

Actually, maybe my progress is lacking, because just talking about the end of school is making my cry a little bit.

I don't want it to end...

Grade 12 was okay, but the three years before it were amazing, and letting it all go, for an indeterminable future is not one of my strong suits. -bursts into tears-

Wouldn't it be nice if we al moved on to the rest of our lives, but together? I don't mind changing schools, but there's some people I love and never want to let go of, and there's others that I wish I had more time to get to know them.

Just one more year of the same people, and the same places, and I think I could do all I need to do. Telling them what I really feel, and not being afraid to say something that may come back to haunt me.

Everything is ending, ending, ending. And the moments that are wasted become so precious, and the moments that are not are far too few. 

In short, life sucks.

I think I'm going to go shave my head.

So. I finally made it home, worn out from plant shopping, guitar lessons, school, and all the little things, and I was starving.

Then I realized that my mom had bought FABRIC. And I was so excited, (because I've become newly obsessed with making clothes, never done it before in my life) and I made this absolutely HIDEOUS pink and green plaid pleated skirt with a vecro do-up, made with old material, for practice. I figured it was enough practice, I was pretty much pro now, I could move on to making something out of the real fabric, drawing the patterns myself, adding all sorts of detail, and ect. Plus, the skirt took my about 45 minutes, and it was easy, even though it was damn ugly and not big enough for a new born baby.

I JUST finished. It's 11 'o clock, and I've been working on this for about... six hours. well, one for the skirt, the rest for the dress I made.

So, it's better. It's not good. I'm not wearing it out in public. Maybe on top of a bathing suit or something. But it's not.... appropriate.

So, I have to go now :) Off to possibly EAT something, because I haven't eaten since I stole two chips lovingly from Ashleyy apres ecole.

And I should study for the bio midterm tomorrow. I mean, 15 minutes of study time should be good. It won't be that hard.

It's only a midterm for gosh sakes.

Maybe I wont study at all. Like, I need to shower...

I'm ashamed at how much I fail.

Oh, I just made a wish.

It's 11:11.

I fail even more now.

Love you all!

Terra

It's only 8:50, but nobody is awake here... And I thought I was waking up late when I set my alarm for 8:30. I was like "Everyone should be awake, and then I can shower quickly, and be ready for the day by 9:15, when everyone else would be ready."

I'll pop in the shower, but I doubt everyone will be ready. My sanity is loose when it's 2 in the morning, and I can't sleep for the life of me.

This morning will be my catch up time. Folding laundry, cleaning cages, ect. Then I'll read Pepys, and then forget about the biology test completely.

It will be great.

Sometimes the better things are, the harder it is to recover when they're over. Weekends are a tragedy to me. Days wasted, time spent not with him. The better the last day of the week is, the harder the weekend is to live through.

Days keep slipping by, marked only by memories of him. If something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to explode. And it really seemed like something was on the verge of happening.

He asked me how I was, and I said I was good. He rocked nervously back and forwardth on his heels, and I smiled up at him. "How will you be tomorrow?" he asked quickly, his words blending together. My pulse doubled. I ineloquently said "What..?"

He said it again, alternating looking at my face and the cement beneath us. He apologized for wording the question oddly, and I said it was fine, and I would be probably just as good tomorrow. Lies. I have serious depression problems on weekends.

The conversation dropped, and he left after a few minutes of talking about what we were doing on the weekend; his full of parties, mine... not.

And my stomach plummeted when I realized that there were still two and a half days until I could see him again. Days empty, no matter what I do.

Schools ending soon. Our time will run out. And then I will have the rest of my life to live, without him.

And I don't know if I can survive that.

I don't know if I can get over this.

I have a secret to tell you all. I'm secretly emo/gothic/suicidal/a closet necrophiliac girl. If you enjoy that part of me, I have a second blog started, where all my depressive, woe-is-me type poetry goes. Yes... it's mostly based on real life. Highly exaggerated though.

And here is another secret. I want to write a damn good steamy sex scene. I want the ability, I don't want to like, keep it in my room or something. I just want to be able to not blush whenever I write the word "groan". Awkward, right?

Also, I have this epic plan where I am going to make money on the side by selling to romance novel companies. It's like, 500 bucks a book. I could do one every month, and it would perfectly supplement a part time job during university. Yes, I know that plan is severely flawed. But it is my dream, don't crush it!

I should go shower, and read Fushigi Yûgi (which is so cute, I recommend it, even though it's so superficial) and then sleep.

But sleep is so boring. And my time is running out.

And I have all these wonderful books! I have five manga books, four of them shôjo, and one action (I'm practicing my asian-ness, even though I'm whiter than wonder bread) and many other fabulous poetry books, as well as a step by step guide to writing romance!!! Epic sex scene, here I come!

That sounded weird.

Talie: You're just jealous of my nipples.

Later on ---

Ashleyy: You have pianist fingers.

Talie: .... Pardon?

Who knew watching documentaries could be so fun?

Now everyone knows, that anything with those two MUST be fun. Although they made fun of me for not eating noodles on a regular basis. And for wearing slippers :)

But, my feet were cold. I had to bring them!

Oh, if only it weren't over so quickly...

We'll have to do it again, lovies!

Wingardium Leviosa! I don't know if I spelt that right, but imagine it with a flick of the wrist. I hope you're floating. If not, my magical career is down the toilet.

The exam I've spent every inch of my spare time working on for the last month and a half is over. And it was so much easier than I thought it would be. I'm listening to Panic! At The Disco to make myself feel less empty. After spending so much time on something like that, there's only one question to ask yourself.

What now?

I mean, life goes on. I'll still have homework, I've still got stories to update, I've still got prom to shop for, still have exams to study for, still have coffee to drink. Speaking of that... 

Yum. I've got some now.

As I was saying. I still have lots of stuff to do, but I feel really weird. I should start to give myself a social life. Anyone want to hang out friday!? I want to go to Vancouver for dinner. Everyone should want to as well :)

You're officially invited. 

My mommy gave my a notebook today. It's an old one of hers and it says 'Love' on the front. And there's little quotes about love on the inside. It made me feel really depressed.

Not the notebook giving thing, but all the love stuff. Hence the poem I wrote in the first page, and also posted up here. It's very anti-love, if it's hard to decipher. Although, it's a poem. It can mean whatever you want it to :)

YAY! I have a social life now! I must go grab socks!

And forward spilleth the broken seeds of beauty

over time become whole

broke with the heart.

And lilies bloom alongside empty paths

their destinations long forgotten

while the kings of dreams find other homes.

And with the greatest ease he doth pick them up

planting many along a road to annihilation

one in a heart.

And when the plaster cast breaks wrinkles and tears stain faces

scars for eternity.

And when the light shines

or the rain falls

it brings forth acid seeping into places secret from ourselves.

Forever changed, holes with burning edges

scars on our souls, we move on.

Zeh Redheaded Wondah now has a blog too! I do believe this was one of the best idea's I've ever had.

And now, another fabulous person has a blog. Her name is ... Talie :) And she is wonderful. Her poems make my life complete, and without them, I don't know where I'd be.

I think I've mentioned everybody so far, but let's hope for more!

So, I went to school for the purpose of furthering my education, purely. I did not go for any frivolities. I wanted to just study, and leave. Sadly, that was pretty much how it went. Because I secretly had other ideas on my plan for the day, and everything pretty much crumbled to dust.

Great day. Great day.

My cousin had an appendicitis attack, and I broke a nail. Also, I was poked by a trombone. But that was actually quite enjoyable.

Tomorrow is a huge exam. A huge exam. I am very very very excited.

Butterflies are welling up inside of me, until I finally vomit an explosive amount on rainbow colored insects. Lovellllyy.

Oh, another sad thing that happened today was that I refused to allow myself to have a vanilla coffee. It may make me happier, but I decided to have caffeine free lemon ginger tea, so I go caffeine deprived now, and then am fine for the exam. It's genius, no?

Now, on to hard core studying. Then I will relax, and meditate, and be zen, go to bed early, and then be all peppy tomorrow.

The best way to wake up, would be opening my eyes to see Talie's face giggling above me, holding a camera, and a bottle of water, dripping it down the neck of my shirt. Alas, that can only happen once.

Maybe I'll walk on the wild side, and have a vanilla coffee waiting by my bedside table :)

Wouldn't it be nice.

Maybe I can pay my mother to do that for me...

Hello, my name is Annie Bradley, and I live in a two story home, with two bathrooms and a luxurious front sitting room. I eat out every third day, to meet my husband, who works too much. I have a cat, named Kitty, and a dog named Bark, who have a war going on over the territory of the only easy chair in the house. I don't like spiders, and I have to take pills to make me sleep at night, and more to make me smile in the morning. 

And I have two and a half kids. I had a lovely daughter, and then twin boys shortly after. While I was busy in the bathroom with a tricky wax strip, my daughter was cut in half due to a freak accident involving a bandsaw and eleven clowns. (How many clowns does it take to cut a child in half? Apparently, eleven.) 

They apologized profusely, and I got a check from the government, enough for surgery to save her life. But my daughter is, and always will be, crippled.

I understand this is a common event, as the latest statistics show, and I want to put it to a stop. Please donate to my foundation I have created, Two Arms - Two Legs - One Heart. Pamphlets are available at all amputee wards at local hospitals, and all hardwood stores.

Take you're child's ability to be an integer seriously, it doesn't take much to turn them into another fraction.

I need to sleep.

Oh, and my soul mate/writing buddy? Go to her blog too :) 

Maggie. I told you I'm starting a trend.

That's all I have to say.

So, my friends have all died, and it's pretty much national skip school day tomorrow, but only for our school. And I'm going anyways, for the slight chance I might run into someone there...  Because I'm lame; it's just how I roll.

I seem to have started a blogging trend. So it seems. It makes me happier than waking up to chocolate chip pancakes. 

My lucky guitar pick is chillin' beside me. The scary white alligator grins up at the computer screen, saying hello to you all in a very friendly and reptilian way.

One person has died from an overdose of fishsticks, slash being eaten by a puddle. So I assume. The inflatable butterflies may have gotten her though.

And another has been murdered by her pet pig named Frederick, who happened to pass on the H1N1 virus. Although it truly is her fault, because she was the one who had to go to mexico. -Rolls eyes-

And it seems my internet decided to flicker in and out of existence; in mourning, me thinks.

Oh, why is such false death such a reoccurring thing today? I'd prefer if everyone stayed alive, figuratively and literally.

I have a very intelligent question. If you were on the moon, and forty two aluminum clad llama's decided to sunbathe at three in the afternoon, would you go blind?

Tell me what you think!!!

Thank god I'm pretttttyyyyyyy. That was music, in case you thought vanity had melted my brain. 

I have recently (as in within the last 3o seconds or so) decided to become a Madame. I think it's the music in the background. I will wear leather bustiers, wear elaborate, ripped and sperm stained petticoats, high heeled boots, ruby chokers and a feather tipped whip.

I told someone that, with less detail, and she responded with

"Leather bustiers?! You want to be like... Oh my god."

So, I'm pretty sure that's my future career. Unless I get my taxi driving license. 

I'm not sure people have Madame's anymore, anyways. They got replaced with pimps, pretty much. So lame.

I suppose I could always become an elementary school teacher. It's pretty much the same thing, except you're dealing with smarter people.

I think I need it to be friday. Please and thank you. 

OH! Happy day! Someone has risin from the dead due to a mystical potion created in peru!

No. Way. The other is now alive now. This potion must be pretty epic stuff.

I am drinking the last bit out of my cup of vanilla coffee. I swear this stuff is going to take over my life. I hope the box refills itself as long as I never look inside, like a magical wine bottle in a story. I can't remember which story that was though; it could be really embarrassing for me to admit I've read it, but whatever.

I still haven't read Hamlet, and I'm going to have to cut my face off in self punishment. I think I'm totally going to just skip reading Heart of Darkness, study the other books like crazy, and then coast through the exam.

I might make myself a 'Remember-everything-on-this-sheet' sheet. Then I will study while making the sheet, and study as I study the sheet.

That would entail work. And I'm not all that fond of work.

My sister just said, "I look like I just stuck my hand up your butt," while licking melted chocolate off her fingers. Crude little cavegirl.

She has just asked for me to call her a monkeygirl, and then flipped herself upside down, as to possibly imitate a drugged up primate. I think I need to train her how to be a proper human. But I love you anyways! (Cos my sister's just so amazing).

My coffee is gone, and my heart is sad. Oh, little coffee beans of love; please replenish yourself!

Today has also been a good day. Pretty much. I mean, everything was pretty average, but there was a moment or two of total happy feelings, and that makes it an exceptional day.  Of course, there were a few minutes of absolute rage; for example, a second ago, my sister just put my eraser in her mouth, in an attempt to get my attention, possibly. But I'm all hormonal, so I nearly decapitated her with my coffee mug.

The H1N1 flu is my new obsession. I was like "Ew," when they called it the swine flu, and then the renamed it the H1N1 virus, and I get extreme joy correcting ignoramuses when they call it by the wrong name. But now it's called the H1N1 swine flu, so they're not totally wrong.

Stupid press people. Numbers and letters are much more fun to remember than farm animals. They totally wrecked my hobby.

Oh, happy cinco de mayo everyone! Have an enchilada on me!

We're not having mexican food tonight, which is so sad, it's practically a tragedy. I just asked my mother what she's making, but she can't answer, because she's in the middle of singing Oh Canada. Seriously. Singing Oh Canada on a Mexican holiday.... that's upsetting.

We seem to be having a barbeque today, which is weird, because it's raining heavily, and the wind in horrible. Like, tearing trees down type of horrible. But that's okay. I always have lots of fun eating the intercostal muscles of a dead cow, in torrential downpour, surrounded by none other than my stereotypically happy family.

I'm even happy today. I had my vanilla coffee which is basically sunshine in a mug, and my sister bought me a chocolate bar, which I inhaled in 0.3 seconds. 

I think I could easily become a caffeine addict. I mean, my recent happiness started on monday, which seems to coincide with both the creation of this blog, and the discovery of vanilla coffee.

Coincidence? I think not.

Whoops, I accidentally used a cliche... I read a book about cliche's so I could recognize them, and I only use about 10% of them, which made me happy, but I use them all the time, which made me sad.

Everyone is watching hockey, and it seems either we got a penalty, or the other team scored because everyone went "Oh! Oh, oh oh oh! ... Agh!!!!"

And then they all threw their hockey team paraphernalia on the ground in disgust. A shirt, an apron, a towel, a couple hats, and a sweater, just to name a few.

It seems three people have read at least something n this blog. My sister, and two friends. They are quite fab, although I noticed that none of them decided to follow me. It made me want to jump off an internal cliff, to create a simulated emotional suicide. But not really, because that would crush my soul.

Haha. I'm laughing at my own joke, because it's not good.

I have a memory to re-live multiple times, and I should get started. Apparently other human types are coming over to watch the game and eat meat, like all people should have the desire to do. I will comfort myself with caffeine free tea, and the pasta salad that is meant to be a side.

My mom just burned herself, and my dad leaped up like a super hero, and pushed her out of the way, in order to save the whatever that's frying on the stove. I thought he was getting up to help her in her time of intense physical pain, but apparently the whatever is more important.

Ah, Hamlet. I must read thee. And yet, when the contents of my heart are revealed, there is a want of you. The desire to read your tale once more is not exactly there, capiche?

Ha! Saved by the doorbell! The humans are here, and my mother has patted down all stray hairs, my sister has run into the washroom to apply another coat of lip gloss, and my father's voice has deepened possibly two to three octaves.

It seems the party is about to begin. I am going to grab my sombrero, as to show how unconventional I am. No hockey garb for me, no sir!

Except the only sombrero is very small, and probably wont fit on my head. Instead, I'll have to resort to drinking some sort of weird looking juice, so when people ask me what the heck I'm drinking I can look at them mystically over the top of my glass, and speak in an enchantingly slow and distressing voice, saying "Why, it's ___ juice. It helps with the liver problems I'm having.  I drank one too many cases of vodka last weekend."

Then I'll lean in, and whisper conspiratorially, "Plus, it helps with regular bowel movements."

Nightcore rocks my world. If you've never heard of them, and you're feeling either really upbeat, or crazy depressed, you should look them up. I don't know if they have myspace, but I hope so. I love when artists have myspaces. It makes me deeply happy on the inside.

My dog is barking from the basement, and I am supposed to let him out, but I really don't want to. You'd think that after 12 years he'd learn that when he barks like that, nobody wants him near them, because it's so annoying. It doesn't make anyone want to help him. Well, it doesn't make me want to rescue him from the dreaded kennel just because he has separation anxiety.

My biology homework is still in front of me, approximately half done. The easy half is done. I still have to do the hard half. I figured I could do the hard half in about twenty minutes. And then I can shower, and wash the smell of public school from my hair. Then I can read Hamlet, and sleep, finally. Ah, to sleep, perchance to dream.

I have a picture of Holly Black on my phone. I bet she'd be really creeped out if she found out. I mean, if I was a famous author, and some girl used my face as the screensaver on her phone, I would be a little uncomfortable.

Hmm. With the rate things are going, I would say I'm not going to be able to read Hamlet tonight. Which is sad, because I have to read all of Heart Of Darkness tomorrow. I am thinking I will definitely need to skip school on wednesday in order to be fully prepared for this test on thursday. It's a big test too. Like, it's not worth anything on my school mark, it's just to test my literary intelligence. It's like an IQ test, but only for literature, and they only care if you're a genius. Above average is average in this test.

And I'm just barely over average. 

-Sighs dramatically-

But maybe, just maybe, my studying will pay off, and I'll be able to pass for a genius. Which would be fab, you know, for university. And, of course, for my self esteem.

My guitar picks of fabulousness are cheering me up. I'll have to christen one my lucky piece, and take it on the exam with me. 

Maybe the scratched teal one. I mean, it has a picture of a white alligator on the front. It's definitely mega cool, and would not be embarrassing for others to see that I carry it around.

Someone in my biology class said I had lovely eyes. Lalala. That makes me deeply happy, because I like them too. Ugh. Biology.

Why did I have to bring that up?

Now I have to do my homework.... Distress.

So, I am writing this, because I only have a few people I actually talk with on a regular basis,but they all have lives. So my thoughts start to swell and build up inside of me, until I can't handle it anymore. I normally blurt it all out ineloquently in a text message, and that is just a total waste of life. I figured I could write whatever I wanted, almost whenever I wanted if I got a blog. And I already had a google account, so it all worked out. 

So it doesn't really matter if anyone reads this, because I'm just killing time, talking to myself. That's also why there wont be a lot of description of me, because I already know myself, pretty good in my humble opinion. 

Oh my gosh! It's quite late, and I still haven't done my homework. At least I practiced my guitar...

Once more, I shall go, without a proper post finished.

I bought myself a present. Yes, this present for myself was so wonderful, I had to stop my frantic homework-not-doing, just to tell you about it. It was... three guitar picks. Yes, and they're lovely too. I have a heavy, marbled dark blue one, that is shiny, and makes me feel happy just looking at it, a medium purple one, which is clear and plain, but is my favorite color, so I love it just as equally. And I have a teal one that's super heavy, but doesn't have a label. It's covered in scratches; which is my favorite decoration. My iPod was scratched so badly, that when people looked at the back, they gasped and exclaimed "What have you done?!"

Now it is covered in a lovely skin that the Easter Bunny gave me. The iPod; not the guitar pick.

I was at guitar today; not a half hour ago actually, and my guitar teacher told me that I care too much. He also said I should stop practicing the guitar, and instead practice on being okay with making mistakes. Then he laughed at me, for making a sound of pain when I played the wrong chord.

Clearly, I am not appreciated as a student.

My favorite song just came on. I don't get to hear it often, seeing as I refuse to click on it to play it first. It has to come on by itself, to surprise me.

Now I must go, to actually do my homework, and to dance spasmodically to the music. Only three minutes left of the song!

And, ew. My dog just drooled on me. Disgusting creature.

I still haven't practiced the guitar. But I made a bit of dinner, and left it all prepped, so when I come back to finish it, it'll look like a cooking show. Except the finished product won't be done. Which is very sad indeed. Television creates unreachable ideals, although I don't know if other people like to recreate a cooking show when they make dinner.

( I even have a theme song, but don't tell people; they'll think I'm dorky.)

So, second post within an hour. Sadly, this is going to be just as uninformative as the last one, only much, much shorter. I've still got to do many things tonight, before I get to be slovenly, and lazy. I promise, after homework, dinner, guitar, and laundry, I will explain. Although, the explanation is so lame, I don't think anyone will care.

Good thing nobody's reading this then :)

Oh, my so many fans! You want the Houdini trick again? I'm glad it was such a hit last time! Unless you're just trying to get rid of me....

No fear! I shant leave for long.

-Vanishes-

I think everyone should go take a break from whatever it is that they're doing, to go get a vanilla coffee. It solves all problems, metaphysically speaking. But not really, because, actually, I don't even know what metaphysical means.

Life is being particularly better than normal today. School's out early, and everything is less stressful with an extra hour to sit down, and, for example, have delicious and warm coffee.

I suppose I should explain this blog, and perhaps myself, but I think I might do that later. I have a book to read, and a test to study for, and a guitar to practice, and a worksheet to fill in. Oh, the cruelties that civilization brings with it's privileges.

(I have this epic plan for a way to spend the rest of my life escaping the rules of society, but it's a secret right now, so I can't tell you.)

I'm pretending that I'm talking to someone, but I'm pretty sure nobody is going to ever read any of this.  If you do, tell me, and then one of my life's goals will be complete: writing a successful blog.

Successful is a very loose term in that statement.

My guitar, which is named Jackson for reasons I can't explain, is calling me. It's thin, musical voice is floating down the stairs, and I know I have the obligation to practice. Sadly, I have nothing to lament about today so far, so my guitar playing will be less emotionally satisfying than usual. Oh, lookie here. My guitar has miraculously appeared beside me. 

Either he grew legs, and walked down, or I forgot to put him away yesterday.

I personally like the first option. It would save me a lot of walking up and down stairs. Sadly, I see no evidence of legs, as the case is still intact. And the case couldn't have grown legs, and then retracted them; that's just silly.

I will vanish in four seconds, just like Houdini. You'll have to read the countdown fairly slowly to give me enough time to leave though.

4..3...2...1...

I told you I'd be gone.