Someday, we're going to have to leave the "douches" behind

"So much time, so little to do...strike that...reverse it" - Willy Wonka (I probably misquoted him, too)

Today, was a good day.
Yesterday was a good day, until it rained.
Sunday was a really good day. I went to visit Emma at GSW (Salem College). I got lost on the way there, I got lost when I got there, I got lost on the way to lunch, and yet again, on the way BACK to SC. Hum.
But it was fun! When you lack heavily in the 'navigational skills' gene, you soon realize that getting lost isn't that bad. Unless your on your way to somewhere important. Say, a date? HA. Yeah, it's not that bad, at all. There are always nice crowds of people crossing the street that you can pull dangerously close to, to ask for directions.
What I hate, when asking for directions, are people who have to think really hard (or appear to think really hard) of how to get to a place.
Now, since the only directions I've had to give are to tourists looking for the Mount Airy Visitors Center, I might not be able to speak on this topic, seeing as how some people have to explain to a lost 16 year old girl how to get to a college that is LITERALLY 2 turns (AND miles) from the point in which she pulled up and flagged down some nice old black ladies leaving church, and asked how to get to Salem College.
But all-in-all, it was a fun day! I got to see Emma for the first time since Graduation, and I also got to write the above paragraph!

Tonight, I realized that I really needed to blog. I know it's been a few days, and you've missed the thing you read when your bored. Sorry 'bout that. I'll try to keep the boreing-ness to a minimum tonight, seeing as how your already bored out of your mind, and that's why your reading this now..

Tonight, I also was thinking of various topics to blog about. I came up with some funny stuff. Only, I wasn't conviently at my computer when I thought of these things, so I didn't start a blog when the little funnilly lightbulb over my head started blinking on like a dawn-to-dusk streetlight on the street (what a clever name for a light on the side of a street!) So, when you see random things typed on my blog, that means that the little light above my head had just a little more juice in it, and lit up for a split-second, allowing me to type out the phrase that will hopefully send me on yet another boring rant of stuff that I find funny or confusing, and the rant that will, enivetably, put you to sleep...early.

Amish people don't get to enjoy the wonderful pleasure of microwavable pizzas. Granted, Amish people don't get the oppertunity to enjoy the miracle that is the microwave, either, but I already covered that.
Seriously. Do Amish people even know what pizza is? Do they eat the wonderful pleasure that is the pizza? This wonderful creation that was invented (I'm not really sure. Of course, you'd think Italy...but the Chinese people invented NOODLES and ICE CREAM...) Italy¿
Those Amish people, REALLY don't know what they're missing. They ESPECIALLY don't know what they're missing if they have never had the divine pleasure of scarfing a "deep dish" Red Baron pizza. Ahh, the reason that there is, and will always be cellulite on my thighs. Well worth it? Yes. Have you ever seen a fat Amish person? OK, that kinda answers my question. BUT those people work thier asses off, so maybe, they've worked the pizza off thier asses, while they were at it.
Ahh, we non-Amish people have it all. Obisity, various STDs, and words that not even speach therapists with a Ph. D can pronouce. Ohh yeah, and microwaves. :D

I write this blog, while I'm waiting for a new column of Observational Humor to load. I love columns. Just because they are almost-always very cleverly written, and involve very odd items. Most of these items, you would never think that you could write a column about. But, the newst method of getting girls "Pick and Ditch" and various drunken stories really make good cloumn material.
This brings me to my next point.

I would LOVE to do this. Any by this I don't mean sit at my computer and bore innocent people.
No, I would rather have innocent people pay a quarter for a few sheets of "recycled" paper, and sit down with thier morning bagle, to be bored with me doing this. That would put them BACK to sleep.
Now that I have confused you. I will explain this, to you.
How effing awesome would it be to be a columnist? You sit around, where ever (with a computer and internet) and you spill your guts about a topic. It could be war, it could be peace, but for the most part, it's weird "items" like the "pick and ditch" method, and the occational presidental debate issue.
These writers for college humor are, or at least i think are, some of the luckyest people on the earth (next to those rich kids who don't worry about money, EVER....and the guy from "St. Elmo's Fire, Pretty in Pink "BLANE", and yes, Manequen).
They get the oppertunity to make 16 year old girls, like me, fall out of our chiars while reading thier words...at 2:22 AM. Geez.
I'm sure that these writers think that no one reads thier stuff. But hey, your bored, and your reading this...
But no, back to the story. These people are geniuses. Do they know that? The primary writer and creater of ch.com, Steve Hofstetter, is becoming one of my favs.
As you know, if your often bored and read my blog, I became hooked on the columns page of ch.com. (Yes, I visited it to see the pics, but stayed for the writing...once a geek..always a geek).
Observational Humor is my latest conquest. There are 5 volumes of this column, and most of the volumes have over 20 editions. Now, I'm not in school right now, so YOU figure up how many columns that is.
While other people *coughs ASHLEY G* read books and keep up with totals of thier summer reading. I enjoy reading funny stuff written by drunk college students who are bored, and figured they'd make little 16 year old girls LMAO for a while. And write some materical which, I'm sure, they're using soon for thier intership applications. "Do you have expericence in making fun of people and occationally writing about serious issues?"--the interviewer will ask. "Why, YES I DO!"--the ch.com college student looking for a little pocket cash, and a hobby, will say.
Yet again, back to the story. *skims over above paragraphs, looking for original topic of rant*
Ahh, yes.
I wish that I could be a columnist when I "grow up". I just think it would be fun. It would be my ideal job. I would have a deadline, but I wouldn't have to go to an "office" to do my work. I could sit in the window of a Starbucks in...um...Starbucks really ARE everywhere, and watch people go by. I could write a column about stupid people, who will read my column and think that I'm making fun of someone else. I could write a column about fries (Carrie Bradshaw did it! AND she got a book published in the same episode :P).
Really. Although I don't want to be a "journalist" I really wouldn't mind being a "columnist".
I wish that our paper had columnists. But, we're only published every 6 weeks (sometimes...hehe), and no one at that school would actually get my form of twisted humor, except maybe Ash ...maybe Mikel.
To make sure I would have success from my columns, I could "lift" a few pages from the ch.com archives. I mean, it's not like "busted tees" and "ch.com" are actually POPLUAR **note the sarcastic tone in my um...typing?**

Since i just clicked over to the next column, and I got a weird page and am now waiting on the page to load, On to my next point.

I try to have a schedual every night. I "higene routine" if you will.
During this time, I brush my teeth (given) and wash my face.
Now, brushing my teeth is something I do everyday, but washing my face before bed is something that I reserve for that night when I have proclaimed that I will start a new diet, do my homework, and go to bed at a decent hour. It might sound gross at first, but I don't tend to wash my face EVERY NIGHT before I go to sleep.
I wash my face in the mornings, in the shower (it counts!). And I wonder why I have bad skin **next point**.
During the summer, I can mostly find time between watching endless nick @ nite and falling asleep, to wash my face and all.
I have been doing well. I am proud of myself. Everynight, I brush my teeth, put my bands on, then I take in hand one of my HUGE arsenal of tubes promising clear skin and no black heads, and my loofa in the other hand and I proceed to scrub my face.
I start off with the loofa. I run warm water, get the loofa wet and lightly scrub over my face. Then, I pat my face dry and I apply my weapon of choice to blackheads. The mask. I place the liquid-mask on my face making myself actually look TAN compared to the liquid-paper white cream that is on my face.
I come back into my room and usually watch tv, or talk to someone on IM, or something, until the mask starts to REALLY burn. The tube says "do not exceed 5 minutes" but I never time myself, and I'm not dead, yet.
After my "approximate" 5 minutes, I go back to the bathroom, and I take the loofa and begin scrubbing this elmer's glue-type white (now paste) "cream" off of my face.
On commercials, you see the pretty girl with the stuff on simply splash her face, then it cuts to her already clear skin saying that it cleared her face off...Ahh, the American consumer...so gullable.
But, you can't just splash the water on your face. You literally have to SCRUB off this glue-like stuff attached to your dirt and oil, attached to your pores.
So after that, I apply yet ANOTHER gel to my face, that is supposed to clear my blackheads. Have you seen my blackheads leately. Yes you have...

I hate people with clear skin. They truely make me sick. What's worse than people with already flawless skin, is the fact that they feel the need to cake on makeup, to hide thier clear complextion.
If I had clear skin, I would NEVER wear make-up. Seriously, the only "make up" I would wear would be lip gloss. Actually, It wouldn't even have to be "lip gloss" it could just be chap-stick.
I would REALLY not wear make-up if I were blessed with clear skin. But, I'm not, and I wear make-up. What's worse? Not washing my face everynight to remove the makeup that covers my pimple infested face, thus creating MORE dirt and oil to get trapped in my bottomless pores.

Something I've been thinking about for the past few days:
My Future.
Ohh, how I loathe the tought of this, but since I use my blog to rant on and on about how my life is and how I wish my life was, and no one really cares, I'm going to attempt to work some shit out, but laying out some shit, and trying to sort through the shit, then stack it in a neat shitty pile...only to be knocked over into an even larger pile of shit.
I am 16. I will be 17 on August 13, 2004. Also, on Tuesday August 31, 2004, I will be at school. The school that I will be a senior at.
Ahh, this is the big word. "Senior".
For a while now, I've been looking forward to my senior year in high school. This is the year when I'm supposed to really start the good partying, take easy classes, and get the well-desserved senior parking.
I have said it before, and I'll say it again. I've been calling myself a "senior" since 3:09 on that fine, glorious day of May, when I was out of school. No exams to take, and no friendships to mend.
Truth is, again, that I don't really consider myself the next grade up, until about a week into that next grade.
It's kinda like when I have a birthday.I don't feel diffrent, and it takes me the better part of that year, to get used to saying "I'm blah blah".
Since I have been calling myself a senior already, there is a possiblity that the transisiton will--or already has--be much diffrent this year.
I'm looking forward to it, but at that exact same time, I don't want it to come.
I don't want senior year to come for 2 reasons.
1) It's school. Since kendergaten, I've hated school. It's the whole getting-up-in-the-morning thing. I've never liked it.
2) Senior year means my last year of High School. As much as I want it to be over, I don't want it to happen.
The past three years have been great. I've made new friends, and grown up. But, I'm afraid that I havn't grown up, enough. I might be one of the more mature people in my circle of friends, but that doesn't mean that I still can't stoop to making fun of Carrie for thinking that our school colors are changing...or making fun of Paula's "Jess Simpson" moment when she said "Do dolphins have ears?".
As much as I want to go to college, I don't want to leave high school. It's my little net. I know everyone. I don't have to really "change" in the sense of "change" that you have to make when you stop saying "when i grow up" to saying...."When I was younger".
I'm really scared about what I'm going to do with the next 50 years or so. I mean, say that to yourself. What are you going to do for the next 50 years? I have no friggin' clue. I really wish that I DID know what I want to do with my life. Only, on the topic of "rest of my life" I'm a true procrastinator at heart, and won't be deciding on a major any time soon.
That's another thing. I'm sad about this being my last year, and the fact that, eventually, I will have to grow up and leave home, and maybe one day get married and have to remind someone ELSE to take out the trash, instead of MY mother telling me 400 times, but I'm SOOO excited about college.
I'm "SOOO excited" about college in the same way that I'm "excited" about my senior year, meaning. I'm terrified.
College is, infact, the next step after graduation from high school. But that means that I'll ACTUALLY have to change and grow up, instead of talking about it, like a far-off event.
Why am I talking about this now? Like I said, I'm layin' some shit out...and eventually through a long, shitty process, it'll become yet another pile of shit, in my arsenal of piles 'o shit.
I am, though, looking very much forward to my next birthday. 16 has been good, but I think I can do better. "I'm 17" from Never Been Kissed keeps ringing in my head.
Please pray that my life won't turn out with my first "real" kiss being at the age of 25...but it CAN be to Michael Bartan-sp?. Douche, he's HOTT.

I'm going to stop writing about this, because it's depressing me. In my 17th year, I don't want to EVER use the word "Depressed"...so make me happy people!

I recently (meaning while I was ranting before, and so I typed a little phrase below the paragraph, so I could rant about something else) saw the music video for Maroon Five's song "She will be loved".
I heard the song on the radio, sometime before school got out, sitting at sonic waiting on my Reeses Blast. I thought it was pretty good. Good enough to write down on my journalism article I was working on, so I could download it later.
Then I saw the video.
I thought the song was good, and then I thought that I kinda understood it. But once I saw the video for it, I'm lost. Someone explain this to me, so that I can go to bed and stop writing about it.

OK it's 5:03 AM. My Norton Anti-Virus automated system scan has come on, I've read 19 issues of Observational Humor on ch.com, and I'm listening to Alica Keys' "If I 'ain't got you" for the third time in the past hour on VH1.
My cue for bed? I think so!


This was my list of phrases for topical rants::
Amish miss the microwavable pizza.
Emma's blog about what her blog's about.
Face masks--people with clear skin--overuse of makeup (MiMi y Faye Gillespie)
Observational Humor.--funnilly shit.
College Humor.com/busted Tee's..sarcastic, they're real popular
My future (college, Senior year, devine hatred for school) Marketing, never inventing things. Should I really wish that HS was over and want college so much?
Blog, and the importance of blog. The non-importance of Diaries
Spelling it "babies" instead of "babys"
kids in the hall. HAHA
she will be loved video..thought I got it..not really confused.

People readind the paper ar 4 PM. 7th Heaven, Simon and Ruthy, TV crappiness...non real --I guess that's why those writers are making millions of dollars...and I'm trying to figure out how to stretch my college money to it's extreame
Times I wish I had a better chair
Totally pumped about the new Hoobastank video...it will explain "The reason"