This is nothing

This is not an actual post. It is just a notification that I am in love with Matt Doyle, he is at the top of my Favorite People Ever list, and Bare: A Pop Opera should be recognized as a threat the national security for being too awesome.

But scroll down for semi-real posts!

I am in New Hampshire

(This is an old post. A few weeks after I'M HAVING A MOMENT.)

I am in New Hampshire. You may have gleaned this from the title of this post.

Anyway.

Tonight I had dinner with my grandma, my mother, and a couple who are friends with my grandma.

This couple consisted of a woman who was sweet enough, but who fell onto a small table at one point, knocking down several pictures and a lamp.

Her husband was a large bald man, who identified as "very" republican.

Because I live in a very civilized, advanced community, republicans have been a rarity in my childhood. Watching this man (Al. His name was actually Al.) was like watching some sort of primitive beast that frightens and fascinates you at the same time. Like a platypus, or Nessie.

However, hearing him actually voice political views was like watching a small, demented child poke itself in the eye with a spoon. And like with a demented child, you could take away the spoon, but they will go and find a stick or a fork to satisfy their desire for simple, repetitive movement.

When his wife told me she "knew the perfect boy for me," he eyed me carefully from his pink checkered armchair, ready to pounce if I showed even the slightest sign of lesbian-ness.

Then, when my mom said I used to be vegan, he looked positively alarmed and it took his wife unexpectedly collapsing for him to snap out of his "but...meat" trance.

During dinner, all I could think about were gay people and immigrants. I kept trying to steer the conversation back to political talk, but to no avail. However, my still emotionally-twisted mind took "gay people" to mean "THINK ABOUT BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN AND FEEL PAAAIIIINNN."

It didn't work out for me.

Just to satisfy my mind, which was beginning to shrivel and die without proper emotion-feeding, I said I had to go to the bathroom and stood there, looking at Brokeback Mountain pictures until my mind started to wake up again.

Here is what my mind does when forced to think about things with this level of emotion. When they come up, I try to not think about them. It doesn't work. They are there. But they are like a person freezing in a blizzard. They get a fire and are momentarily placated. Then they lose the fire and the chill seeps back into their body.

So I have to constantly provide my sad, demented mind with fire, lest it shuts down completely and I lose all sense of personality and knowledge and sit on the floor, hugging a pillow and rocking silently.

Or screaming loudly.

Whilst poking myself in the eye with a spoon.

UPDATE: I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this post to return to Brokeback Mountain. But it did. Because I am still having PTSD from feelings-overload, and I drank a ginger beer earlier that turned out to be alcoholic and my inexperienced brain didn't know how it felt about that. Apparently alcohol makes me ramble. Also, I didn't have anything else to talk about. This is the most exciting thing that happened all day.

Seriously. If I were to talk about the other things that happened today, this would just be: "DREW PICTURES! ATE CAKE! TOOK NAP! ATE CAKE! READ BOOK! ATE CAKE!"

UPDATE: I eat a lot of cake

Soap Operas

     Soap operas are like small yet extremely poisonous spiders. Or people who have AIDS, but you don't know they have AIDS, so you sleep with them, and it's fun, but then you have AIDS.

     I am not going to expand on that metaphor.

     Instead, I will present myself as an example.

     That is probably never a safe phrase. Anyway.

     I, a few years prior to my current awesome, became entranced by the comfortable pull of my couch and found myself without a good show to watch, but also without enough motive to stand.

     Please note the start of that sentence before judging me.

     Anyway, my friend had told me of Gossip Girl, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like.

     It's about a bunch of teenagers in New York acting way older than they supposedly are. Also looking way older. Also, just being way older in general. You think they're in their twenties because they're lounging around in suits and cocktail dresses from Bendels whilst sipping whiskey on the rocks, dating incestuouly among their group of characters, closing business deals, and getting married.

     Then it'll remind you that they're all in high school.

     Yeah. Okay.

     Also, it is just...ridiculous. No one talks like that. No one wakes up in make up. No one is so rich that they can do literally whatever they want. No one-spoiler alert- accidentally kills their friend with cocaine, flees town, leaves their mother with her fifth divorce and their brother suicidal, comes back, and spends three episodes angsting about sleeping with the best friends boyfriend.

     Also, the poor people have incredible taste.

     And no one knows what they want.

     And I love it.

     I'm tangled in it's web of cheesy, fashionable drama. I have been bitten by the small spider. I have gotten AIDS from the person I didn't know had AIDS, or at the very least I didn't know I'd get AIDS from.

     I'm rewatching the show. It began two days ago, and I'm in the middle of season two.

     Right now, Nate is sleeping with this thirty year old named Katherine (who also happens to be a duchess) because she's giving him money for his family, which totally isn't prostitution, but he likes Vanessa. Blair, Nate's ex, is dating Katherine's stepson, Marcus, who is the Lord of somewhere or other. Chuck is in love with Blair but can't actually do anything about it because he's stupid. You're stupid, Chuck, just TELL her meh feelings waaah. Serena is dating Dan but only kind of secretly because some people know. Jenny likes dresses. Blair is blackmailing Katherine because Katherine is married (to a duke) but she's sleeping with Nate.

     Later, Blair dates, then marries a Prince, but he gets sick of her pretending to not be in love with Chuck, who she loves the whole show but they keep breaking up for shifty, unclear reasons, and marries her for business purposes.

     Spoiler alert, she ends up with Chuck and they have the most well-dressed baby in the history of mankind.

     I have stayed up past three AM watching this show every night this week.

     Jesus.

     And now, since I have no real ending to this post, a quote from Welcome to Night Vale.

     "Look to the obelisk. We don't know where it came from, but it's attracting a lot of cats."

UPDATE: Katherine is also sleeping with Marcus. a. He's her stepson. b. Her "sleeping with" tally is up to three people. c. I'm a hopeless girl,

I'M HAVING A MOMENT

This may be slightly ranty. I'm sorry.

I'm just very EMOTIONAL right now.

Why?

I'm watching Brokeback Mountain. 

It's 1:13 in the morning and I'm watching Brokeback Mountain. 

Being tired makes me emotionally vulnerable. I know this. It is a fact of my life. But tonight I decided, against my better judgement, to watch THIS MOVIE, of all the movies out there. 

And now I'm constantly pausing, shutting my computer, and flailing my arms around in the dark while whisper-shouting "Oh my god! Oh my god! This is so amazingly tragic and beautiful!"

Yes. I whisper-shout-called Brokeback Mountain tragic and beautiful.

If you disagree with that analysis, fuck you, I don't care. I'm allowed to freak out and  make metaphors out of everything I see. And I'm allowed to christen anything as adorable. Even gay mountain sex.

I love this movie. Don't judge me.

Also,  I am going to be constantly coming back and venting my feelings.

1:30

FUCK YOU ALMA

Who cares about your lonely soul?

Also, Jack would rather be with Ennis than Anne Hathaway

This is saying something

I'm having intensely conflicted emotions

JACK IS COMPLICATING EVERYTHING

AND ENNIS NEEDS TO STOP BEING TRAUMATIZED BY HIS PAST

Actually it's adorable, he just needs to stop being traumatized over someone killing an old gay man in his town when he was nine so that he and Jack can buy a farm and live happily ever after.

1:32

OH MY GOD ADORABLE FACE TOUCHY THING OH MY GOD MY BABIES I WANT TO HUG YOU BOTH

1:35

I HAD TO REWIND AND WATCH THE FACE TOUCHY THING AGAIN

1:40

In which Alma is a bitch and Ennis is bad with kids

1:47

Hey! Alma was Glinda in Oz the Great and Powerful

And according to IMDB, she was blonde sheep-girl from Dawson's Creek

Small world

1:48

Wait...

One minute Alma and Ennis are having sex and the next they're in a court room and she's getting full custody? Did I miss something?

ENNIS MY BABY

ALMA YOU BITCH I WILL RAPE YOU WITH FIRE

I DON'T KNOW HOW THAT WOULD WORK BUT YOU'RE MAKING ENNIS CRY AND THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE.

1:53

Can you say bad timing?

I feel sad and scared and hopeful and SAD and melancholy (fun word) and CONFLICTED

2:48

NO NO NOOOO WHAT SUPREME MIND FUCKERY IS THIS I'M DYING

I CAN'T LIVE IN A WORLD THAT ALLOWS THIS TO HAPPEN

tears

they are flowing

i can't even bring myself to capitalize or punctuate

that's how distressed i am

i am going to die

i actually think i'm going to die

there are just too

many

feelings

AAAHHH LET ME LOVE YOOOOOUUUUU

UPDATE: hehe I saw Anne Hathaway's boobies

SURPRISE!!!

It's Andrew Rannells!!

The Vast Planes of Nothingness

Hello. I have no life. Did you know that?

I found out today.

Want to know how I knew?

Do you want to know the moment that sent my mind spinning into the perpetually moving hamster ball of despair?

I watched Dawson's Creek.

Dawson's.

Fucking.

Creek.

I am so sad.

In case you are unfamiliar with this superb FUCK YOU to television, I'll give you a brief rundown.

I only saw the first fifteen minutes of the first episode, but they are scorched into my memory like a crop circle before an alien invasion.

It starts with Dawson, a sandy haired boy who strongly resembles a labrador. His lanky I-just-started-going-to-the-gym-and-have-not-yet-grown-full-muscles body is lying on a bed, with his feet on the pillow (what a hipster), watching television. Beside him lies Katie Holmes, pre dead-eyes.

They're watching a Spielberg movie, because Dawson has a total boner for Spielberg.

Their discussion involves the Oscars and a lot of hate towards Ghandi, and then Katie Holmes, whose name is Joey, decides to make things SUPER awkward. They have a whole conversation about how they're going to be starting high school and even though they've been best friends since first grade (because that happens), Katie Holmes thinks that her sleeping at Dawson's house, which she does like every night, is not socially acceptable.

He quickly calms her down and they go (HOLY SHIT I JUST HEARD A GUNSHOT OUTSIDE) to sleep. Cute.

The next day, three boys sail in little sailboats on a little creek. Katie Holmes sits in a chair on a dock, before a kid in a satan mask pulls her into the lake. Dawson gets mad at him for not doing something right. It is revealed that they are making a movie for a convention. How original.

Then, as they all grumble, a taxi pulls up to the house they are inexplicably using the dock of, and out steps a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, floral-dressed sheep of eighties (ANOTHER GUNSHOT). The boys saunter up from (her) dock to see her, and they introduce themselves. It becomes clear that sea-monster kid is a huge player, despite being as physically attractive as a potato bug. That's actually a really good comparison.

Katie Holmes is jealous of her competition.

Also, at one point, she says "I live down the creek."

You cant use roads, like normal people?

No?

That's too hard for you?

Well fuck you all.

Anyway, After that, the next day, Dawson and Blonde Sheep (I don't remember her name) (ANOTHER ONE TWO!! ANOTHER TWO GUNSHOTS!!)(Also, the song "If these walls could speak is playing and oh my god Norbert Leo Butz I want to give you a hug) are in Dawson's room and he's describing how he wants to nail Spielberg.

Which isn't weird at all.

Then Katie Holmes is quietly jealous.

Then Dawson and Potato Bug (Don't remember his name either. But I think the actor was named Joshua?)(OH MY GOD NORBERT LEO BUTZ I LOVE YOU) work at a video store, and this complete cougar walks in. Potato Bug is literally drooling, while she asks him for The Graduate, a movie with almost enough sexual tension to rival this scene. Then Dawson teases him for his zomg-ness.

This is around when I had to stop watching. I skipped ahead a little (her name might have been Mel?) to see if it got less boring, but no. It didn't.

Also, the whole show was tinted sepia.

It was like a bad instagram filter.

Here is Dawson:

Here is Potato Bug Kid:

Messed up, right? He isn't allowed to be a player. Anyway, I decided to not continue with the massive mind-fuckery going on there, so instead I binge-ate cupcakes and played tetris for like three hours.

Did I mention I have no life?

I play, on average, two hours of tetris a day.

I have left the house four times this week.

I watched every episode of The New Normal in two days.

Okay, that one I don't mind, because The New Normal is fantastic.

Also, I have memorized about six different musicals.

I listen to them when I play tetris.

I'm going to die alone.

The subtle nuances

Life contains many small annoyances, and many large annoyances. The large annoyances usually include thing like tsunamis and war.

They may be slightly more important than I'm making them out to be.

The small annoyances differ between individuals, but there are a few general ones that are relatively universal. Unless you're Amish.

In the flesh

Mosquitos in your ear

Whispered conversations that you can't understand

The why game

You know how when toddlers decide they want to fuck with you they say why after every sentence?

It's like pre-k mind games

But anyway I found myself accidentally playing that with a small girl named Leah with whom I have found myself affiliated, and she got me so far the through the hidden implications of my words that by the end of it I was talking about the "cosmic ring of nebular and spacial protons."

I realize this is not a thing

I'm sorry

Eventually you run out of options

Which, coincidentally, was my reason for writing this

It is 2:12 in the morning

Hello.

Did you know it is 2:12 in the morning?

Because I have a little clock inside my iPad, which makes the time handily show on the top of the screen.

Now it's 2:13

But with this clock, unfortunately, it disappears when I open an app, so when I'm bored and playing a game and waiting for a time that signifies something to roll around, I have no idea what time it is

2:14

That last sentence was not grammatically correct

Also, it defeats the purpose of that sentence that I can see the clock while blogger is open

Don't judge my incoherent sentences, it's 2:15 in the morning

But anyway, I'm writing this because I got bored of playing monkey flight and trying to think about how to fit the word helix into conversations because that is a cool word

2:16

Also, I'm wondering which Les Miserables characters are subs

That will really only make sense to a choice few

I am tired

But not really

You know (2:17) that time after 1:00 when you should be tired and for the last hour you've been battling sleep but then suddenly your eyes decide to stop fighting your will and just decide to stay open and then you can't sleep because your eyes are punishing you for your prior (2:18) selfishness and your mind is blurry and run-on sentence creating but you're also really awake at the same time?

That.

2:19

Did I already write two nineteen?

Because I already wrote a sentence that kept repeating itself in a little sentence loop for like ten minutes and (2:20) it was horrifying before I realized I shouldn't be doing that

That sentence-train derailed

There were no survivors

2:21

I'm sad and alone

And tired

And the phrase "fight the shrimp" is stuck in my head

2:22

It's been ten minutes since I started writing this

I've accomplished less than I originally assumed I would be accomplishing

2:23

Also, if you check the time on this because you're a psycho who likes to disprove random blog posts and it says its a different, more reasonable time, that is because I have no wifi whilst curled up in my bed at 2:24 and will therefor be posting this in the morning

The song "If I Didn't Believe In You" is playing

Is tsurris a word?

2:25

I think it is but I'm spelling it wrong

2:26

If you're wondering why that took a whole minute to write, I believe it is because time has entered the "it's the weekend so what better time to get my shit together even though I was totally wasted and forgot to move during math last week during SUNDAY FUCKING NIGHT would be the perfect time to go fast"

2:27

I am not even going to edit this post a little bit

People need to know

I am really fucked up right now

2:28

Why is a Taylor swift song playing?

I thought I banned Taylor swift from my playlists after her descent into sheepism

This song has one line that seems like something I would be writing right now

2:29

That's how bad it is

And I can't breEAAATTHHHEeeEEEethe

2:30

Also, that long, spastic Breathe up there was a line from the song

Taylor swift is the one suffocating

Not me

She's doing it again

Seriously, this song is one sentence

2:31

Like that song in the radio that's like "here and now, I'm talking here and now, I'm talking here and now, LETS GO." Although it uses considerably less word endings

Oh good taytay stopped

2:32

Looking at this, it's all really short sentences broken up by long, rambling paragraph sentences

It's been twenty minutes

This was the most confusing twenty minutes of my life

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID

2:33

I'm leaving now

There's really not a good way to end a post like this and I'm afraid that if I don't click close now I'll go on like this forever

2:34

Also, I suddenly feel obliged to tell you that the song Maybe from Next to Normal is playing and I'm having a weird spiritual connection with it on some ethereal level

That kind of thing happens at 2:35

Just roll with it

A sonnet

Jacob and I wrote a sonnet.
Behold me not giving a shit about syllables:

Sonnets, what the fuck are they
They drive me crazy in the mind
They serve no purpose on this earth
But to wipe a crapped behind
They're a pain in the ass to read
They make me want to punch a wall
They make my tortured eyeballs bleed
No, I don't like them at all
They make us want to kill Shakespeare
Kill him with fire, would be nice
Into his heart we'll strike some fear
And drown him in a lake of ice
Burn all the sonnets on the earth
Less than zero's what they're worth

(Let it be noted that I have nothing against sonnets, despite some evidence to the contrary.)

Confusion

The last four lines in this picture. Read them.

Balderdash word for deer poop is how people find my blog?

I don't know if I should be hurt or proud.

This happens when I'm bored

I do math good: A follow up

It was as I had feared.

Well, not EXACTLY as I had feared.

I had expected a gray carpet but there was instead that disgusting oh-so-public-school white tile with the little pink and blue flecks and instead of smelling like lemon pledge it smelled like beans and fear.  I did, however, have my disturbing bright pink calculator, there were rows of desks, and I did frantically scramble on one problem.

But the good news is, I ALMOST finished!

Yay me!

I do math good

     That title was not grammatically correct. If you are troubled by this, fuck off, you have no right to be here.
     So. This weekend, I am going to take a math placement test.
     It shall tell me if I'm a complete idiot, partial idiot, or genius. Those are the only categories offered. And according to my current math teacher, I will be attempting to reach out from the depths of complete idiot hood into the dim fluorescent lighting of the partials.
     She has faith in me though.
     So it's not all bad.
     She truly believes I have the potential to become more than the category in her mind labeled "FUCKING STUPID."
     But anyway, I, like the other numerous lemmings, will make my way into a large, desk-filled room, which will smell like lemon pledge and and have a gray carpet.
     We will sit, and I will take out my ridiculous bright pink calculator, and then I will have a mental breakdown because I KNOW NOTHING.
     Then, in a frantic haze of half-remembered formulas, I will attempt to solve one problem.
     Then time will be up.

     Also, I don't know what genius decided to make me take a math test about math I learned last year, but they should not be working with children if they do not understand the concept of the Summer Atrophy of the Brain.
     This was a mild attempt to pour all my stress out onto you, dear reader.
   
     That is all.

Celebrities

I am going to list certain celebrities and my opinions of them, as I am bored and feeling fat, therefor it has become necessary to become a scary blogger who hides in a dark space, eating Nutella and dressing cats. Here goes.

Daniel Radcliffe-I don't know why you popped into my head. Maybe because you're British and I like that. You should stick with it, it works for you. Or maybe English. Who the fuck knows. Also, I heard you are going to be Allen Ginsburg in Kill Your Darlings. That's alright, but James Franco will always be Allen Ginsburg to me.

James Franco-I enjoyed watching you kiss Aaron Tveit in Howl.

Aaron Tveit- OH. MY. GOD. You are a FUCKING god. You're like Jesus, but BETTER. And Jesus makes wine from water. Thats fucked up. But I think everyone can agree that seeing you singing about how you'd live forever whilst standing before thousands of people in your boxers is like a mind orgasm.

Kim Kardashian- You...you're fucked up.

Avril Lavigne- I'm amazed that your hair hasn't gotten up and left you after how bitchy you've been to it.

Lady Gaga- See above.

Kelly Clarkson- I know waffles are good. I do. And I appreciate your music. But we all have our limits.

Neil Patrick Harris- You are like my baby.

Anne Hathaway- You are a very talented person, and capable of being very sad and singing about it. Also, you wore cool fingerless gloves in Les Mis, and I thoroughly enjoyed your performance. However, I cannot forgive you for Catwoman. I'm sorry. You're still half dead to me.

Neil Young- Stop. Just stop.

Leonardo Dicaprio- You are my other favorite sex God. I love you.

Dane Dehaal- You are one of my favorite actors of all time. You are the love child of Brad Pitt and Leonardo Dicaprio.

Taylor Swift- I used to love you. And then you made Red and I realized "Dear god...she's become a sheep."


That is all.

Goodness, I could be an entire Greek chorus all by myself.

CHICKEN SCRATCH

I...

Have not been on here in a very long time.

In the blurry haze of that's-what-she-said jokes and Psych-induced feelings that filled the last few months, I have had a creeping sense of guilt that I haven't written anything. I apologize for my absence.

Not that people really read this blog or would particularly miss it, but I still feel like I owe it to past-me, the sad, misguided fool that said "I'm going to start a blog and write STUFF in it!"

How silly of me.

But anyway, I needed to write something, sooo....

That's what this is.

I have no idea what to say.

This is like one of those moments when you've been mentally writing stories in your head for the last three weeks and then your English teacher gives you paper and is like "WRITE, PEASANT!" and the only thing you can think of is repeatedly stating that you don't know what to write. But in different ways, so by the end you're saying stuff like "The vague possibilities of chicken scratch to scrawl upon this page have fled my mind."

Yeah.

That.

Also-how funny would it be if Russell Crowe wore a dress?

This...this is what goes on in my head.

Seriously, though.

That would be fucking hilarious.

I apologize for this post.

Why we study Chinese history

The other day, I was looking through my notes app. A mind the lists of food that shouldn't exist, the fighting foodons theme song, and pages of various Emojicons, I discovered an essay I did in history class about why we study Chinese history. Please keep in mind, this was past me. Not present me. Also, I used the word hyperness. Lord help us.


     We study Chinese history because someday, the Chinese will be our overlords. Oops. Did I say overlords? I meant protecters. I know this because everything, and I mean everything, says "made in China" on it. Oh, nice going, USA. Buying products from the Chinese will only encourage that they are good builders, and then they will realize that they can use their factories to make nukes. They will hide said nukes in a secret nuclear bunker, which will most likely be labeled "taxidermy and cheese" to deflect suspicion. Because, in a show of hands, how many of you would go into a building labeled "taxidermy and cheese"? Not many, right? When they have enough, they will paint their faces, put on their pointy hats, and charge. Most likely they will have been prepared to fight long, hard wars with a fit, strong, and democratic country, in which they could make several fight scenes for a documentary about how they conquered America that take place on lakes of lava with lightning in the background. Instead, they will get a short war and several surrenders. What up, America?! After they have successfully conquered us, we will be sent to underground moisture farms where we will live off self-grown mushrooms, being presided over by their army of robots. The people who managed to escape will be living in caves and preparing an army of weasels. Weasels, being the only animal flexible, furry, and sharp enough makes them the obvious choice. When ready, the weasels will be unleashed in a furry storm of rabidity. For those who don't know: rabidity means high-energy and hyperness. The weasels are not literally rabid. It will be a long hard battle, in which several valiant weasels die to the robots, but the bands of freedom weasels, nicknamed the freesels, will chew through the cages that contain humans in the moisture farms. They will then gnaw through the control booth wires that control the robots, effectively wiping the out. The Chinese will be infuriated. The remaining humans and weasels will fight them. It will be a long and hard battle, but we will pull through. When the Chinese have been sent back to China, we will once again control them. And then one weasel, Jacob, will rise up, kill everyone, and rule the world.



UPDATE: To be clear, I have nothing against the Chinese. You guys are cool. This was my young,      strange, and slightly racist self.