Screw it.

I really really loathe teachers.

I hate the projects they think will benefit us, when half of us only bullshit it.

I hate that they choose to give these bigass projects the week before Christmas break.

I hate school.

I hate that I want so badly to pursue the hardest school to get into.

Why can't I be happy with an office job?!

I want to go to sleep and never wake until Summer.

I hate life right now. A lot.

Once upon a time, I began to hate Christmas...

The best moments in my life aren't the laughs you share with your friends, or looking into the mirror and seeing beauty for once. No, the best moment is when it's 1 AM and I fall into my bed, eyes just about to close. The weight of the world seems to be heaved off your shoulders and slowly crushing another person while your fears and worries fade away into sleep.

It's like an orgasm, but lasts a bit longer and has dire consequences the moment your brother brutally awakens you.

Imagine, floating in a sea of silky smooth fabrics, cotton-cloud pillows, and a warmth no heater could ever give you. Now, imagine that multiplied by a thousand! (I know it's not possible, but when you're on this drunk, sleepy-high, anything is.) That's how my bed feels in that gracious moment.

The moment lasts a few minutes, and then you roll to your side, realize you're not covered by enough blanket, cold is creeping in, your face is smashed against what seems to be a hardening pillow, and your hip is digging into the not-so-soft mattress you once mistook it to be. That's how my life is all the time, not just when I'm sleeping.

You see, I have these small moments of happiness, and then the next thing I know, I'm accompanied by a pinched, angry-faced reality saying, "Wake the hell up! You get to go to work and get pickle juice spilled all over you!" I'd very much rather have blood all over me.

Lately, reality has been a bit more harder on me than it needs to be. I got to stick my hands in a cadaver, and my god was it awesome! I was happy, satisfied, sure of what I want to do when I grow up, but the moment I boarded the bus to go home, depression slithered into my shoe and delivered its acidic bite.

I feel like I have nothing exciting to look forward to, save for the day my 16 year old body is soon defined as 17 year old body. But a birthday is a birthday. I might get cake, maybe a present or two (for no reason, I might add, except having been born), and then that random Thursday night will be finished with smug pre-calculus homework. Awesome.

I suppose there are a few movies I am looking forward to; Les Miserable and The Hobbit. But to be honest? They're just movies. Nothing that would really affect my life in any way. Except that I super seriously really want to see both of them super seriously bad.

I know what you're thinking. "What about Christmas? Aren't you excited for that?"

No.

Let me tell you why:

Once upon a time, there was a family of seven living on a below-moderate family's annual income. Wait, I think that's all you need to know!

Just kidding. It's mostly the same Christmas music that is played over and over every stinking year!

It's also the annoying bell-ringers that stand in front of Walmart with monotonous faces saying, "Donate! Sharing is caring!"

At the family Christmas day party, the grandparent's offspring have to rotate in a circle who's giving to whose family. Ex: My family would give to my mom's brother's family this year, and then next year, give to the next in line. (Sort of like what we're doing with my immediate family.) I find it stupid, because we have to buy something for the whole family or for each family member, as well as our own Christmas presents. It's stupid.

I could hate Christmas because of  those painfully bright Christmas lights I have to squint at when I drive by at night.

Better yet, just the fact that it's night time at six in the stinking evening.

It could also be the snow, the junk food, the sweets, the fattening of my body, the dis-motivation I feel about running, the obligation I feel to buy everyone I love presents when really only my love is what they need...

I also don't really like hot-chocolate, so I feel people might have an uncontrollable disliking for me in that sense.

I don't look very good in hats. Sorry if you beg to differ, but I don't.

Also, I've gained an increasingly long-lasting hate for Walmart during the holiday seasons. Or any store, for that matter. 

I'm beginning to grow annoyed at the religious aspect of Christmas too. First of all, it's WINTER break for public school, not Christmas. That's something Tyler's horribly ex and I somehow agree on. I'm sorry, but there are non-religious, Muslim, Jewish, etc. people and all kinds of other religious people that aren't Christian or Catholic.  I'm sick of hearing the nativity story all the freaking time. I'm sick of cute, Eve-like angels everywhere preaching, "Choose the right!" I won't ever say these things out loud, but that doesn't mean I have to like any of it.

I especially don't like having to sit on that halitosis-drenched, grandpa-smelling, cheesy jingle bell ringing Santa Claus they bring every year to the family Christmas parties. It makes me shudder to just think about it. It's the same every year!

"Ho ho, you're getting bigger! What do you want for Christmas this year?!" Translation: "My god you're too fat for my old grandpa legs. What is it you've been begging your annoyed parents for this year?"

I usually try to respond with a witty comment or make it so personal that he begins to feel awkward because he barely knows me. Translation: "FML".


I do enjoy, however, throwing snow balls at my brothers and sledding down adrenaline-induced hills of steep heights.

Mistletoe, perhaps, might become a favorite if I suddenly become a normal girl this season.

I also enjoy soup, blankets, slippers, pajamas, and making ornaments for the tree. Those aren't too bad.

And...Transiberian Orchestra is awesome. 'Nuff said.

I admit, receiving presents you like is pretty fun. (Okay, seeing the look on others' faces when I give them something is endearing too.)

 Most of all: Winter break, the only longest break we get during a school year where I can write, sleep, watch shit, and earn a crap load of money with hours I don't normally get with school in my way.


I hate the term "Merry Christmas!" I've heard it so many times in my young young life. TO YOUNG to have heard it so many times, one would think.

Pinterest is getting increasingly difficult to tolerate, since it's overrun by follower's disgusting posts of Christmas everything. Why the hell is St. Patrick's day so left out?

The only people I'm buying presents for are:

Rachel
The brother I'm supposed to give to
Mom and Dad
Almond and Gary (Or maybe I'll make them something pathetic, trying to be amazing)
My secret Santa assignment at work

To my friends, and everyone else who thinks they're important to me; you'll get something. Probably like a poem from the heart or a paper snowflake or something. 

Sorry, but I have a future and a laptop to save up for. Has my negativity made it too late to say that I still love you guys anyway?

To cut to the chase, I will say only this: This is the first Christmas in my life so far that I've lost all enjoyment and excitement for. I will guarantee you, this Scrooge-ish hate will disappear one day. If not now, then some day.






Afternote:

I just realized that A Christmas Carol's message is about not being greedy and donating some of your money to the helpless. (Yes, I've lived my life not knowing this.) It bothers me to know that I don't really care about being selfless. If one is to be selfless, he'd be selfless the entire year, and not just during Christmas time when you're selflessly trying to buy everyone else's love. Duh.

Iambic Pentameter; repetitive, like my life in a sense

Although you claim reality is one
Idealism is twice now where you're wrong
According to you she is no such fun
But her love is what drives this lonely song.
If you believe that her lips are so dull
Imagine a luster in place of them
Remember you not, the stories of ol'?
They turn a small rock in one like a gem.
Reality verses Ideality
Splits us into a division, I say
Ideal is the more likely pretty
While realism defines this day.
When they differ so widely to view,
The similarities are none too few.

This is a sonnet I wrote in response to one of the many sonnets Shakespeare has written. He was basically describing how her features aren't like the sun or silk or beauty, rather he would describe them in the most realistic manner he could muster. Well, why can't reality and idealism morph and be used equally to create a realistic fantasy?

That's basically what I do every day of my life. Just saying.

I'm not very superb at poetry. Heck, I barely know how to use those weird iambic pentameter things with regular speech, let alone rhyming AND organizing AND symbolizing. Geez. It's too much. I usually just wing it when I write poetry. Then I end up struggling when it becomes a real requirement. The thing is though, even if they aren't that good, I still feel this sense of accomplishment and relief when I've finally figured out how to let the words out in an acceptable, organized way. I don't feel hectic or crazy. It actually requires me to think about what to write rather than write it out and be satisfied with what I have. I cherish the words more.

But I do like to write prose as opposed to poetry, because with poetry, no matter how silly it is, there's always a message you need to convey within it. With prose, you can write the most intense piece of a story, and that's all it will be: a story. It doesn't HAVE to have a message at all.


I'm supposed to read poetry from the Renaissance in my literature book for English, but honestly? I don't want to do it. Because I have to write summaries and immitations and quickwrites after I'm done. It's lame. I don't have that much time. I don't have the patience to sit down and read it or understand it. I'm too excited about test scores, and the cadaver lab, and Trace being able to come with, and understanding Chemistry, and having to write write write my book. Ugh. Please, people. Is there no free time to myself anymore?

I'm not ready to grow up. That's the problem here. Having no free time to myself is going to be a normal thing when I become a doctor and work 12 hour shifts in the hospital. I have to get used to it. But I just don't want to right now, because I'm so not ready to do that yet.

AHHH!! Cadaver lab! I'm so stoked.

I have to be at the buses by 5:30, miss all of school, and be back late at night. WHOO!!! USU here I come!

So maybe I'm a bit too excited about it

I've been dark and depressing, recently. I apologize for that. I've been bitter that everyone has gotten more attention than I have, but you know what? It doesn't really matter. I have a lot of things that not everyone else has, and I have an imagination that will keep me from succumbing completely to the reality of living here.

After a long period of severe writer's block, I've finally come up with the second plot to my novel. Yes, I still have to rewrite my first book, but sometimes I get sick of it. I'm stuck on chapter ten because I have a hard time describing fight scenes. (To be honest, I get a little bored with it.) So I've looked towards book two, which hasn't been written at all. It's going to be epic.

Okay, there's actually not much to talk about. I'd be kidding myself if I thought I could write a long entry about philosophies concerning writer's block. I'm just distracted, restless, and hungry. Yes, hungry.

Fixating on the inevitable

I'm quite frightened of the vigor and quickness people have suddenly obtained in reading my blog. I mean, honestly? I pictured this site as a barren desert with hidden words buried in the sand, no one there to find them, no one there to know. How often do people truly read these words? I figured nobody cared enough about me to know what's going on in my life. To me, it seems like everyone else's lives are more important.

I mean, there are aspects of the blog that would clearly push people away. Other than myself, how many people do you know that are obsessed with elephants? I probably repulse people with my foul language as well, but as you should know, I cannot swear on Facebook for goody family members ruin my fun, so I channel it through here. Sometimes I just want to write a blog post with the F-bomb in every other line. (Completely stupid and unnecessary, I know.)

What really miffs me is the fact that all my friends latch on to the only gossip-driven, juicy stuff I reveal. Of all blog posts to read, why the last one? I'm shocked no one has read my abortion one, or about the dreaded hand washing of dishes. Seriously, people!

It's okay, I forgive you now. To be quite honest, I don't care who knows. I don't care if Trace ever finds out, or if Parker magically realizes I exist, or if Halofom is somehow informed about my spilling secret. If I wanted to keep it to myself so badly, I would never have written the entry.

Don't you notice a pattern, though? Teenagers grip the romantic possibilities that others spill, but they could care less about the more important aspects of life. It's only natural, don't feel bad. Some of us, (yours truly) is just a different breed of teenager.

Think of it this way:

Arabella (work with me here, it's hypothetical) has been showing signs of pathetic-ness in socializing with the male gender because her grades, her interests, and her hobbies aren't as common as others would think. Her friends listen kindly to what small complaints she has about every day life and repetition, but none really take to heart what she says.

Then one day, Arabella finds hope after a guy has been smiling at her more than usual. She doesn't feel like she can tell her friends straight out, because most of them have strong opinions about appearance, social status, and attitude. This guy is a little bit on the opposite end of the spectrum, but she still would want to give it a try.

So she lets out her feelings on a piece of paper that she thinks no one will ever find. She hugs it to her heart, and then she stuffs it in her backpack.

That paper falls out.

Her friend walking behind her picks it up and reads it. Later that day, her friend embarrasses her in front of all the other friends, shocks her that they've all read that piece of paper.

What she realizes, however, is that they only care about the juicy information about her possible attractions. If she were to have left a piece of paper with her cherished fiction writing on it, her friend probably would have read it, said it was pretty good, then moved on with her life.

Interesting, isn't it?

There are only a few things that really wake us up when it comes to friendship. You get so caught up in the routine of each other's actions, personalities, feelings, etc., that you don't pay attention to the little changes. If I were to say "I want to commit suicide", then there would be a huge, booming reaction from everyone around me. Positive and negative. If I were to say I'm feeling sad, then they'd feel concern for you, listen to what you have to say, have nothing to say or help with, and move on.

Not everyone is perfect. No one can say the right things. I'm not saying you have to shape up and change your attitude towards me. Actually, I prefer less attention drawn to myself. I love you all for who you are. If what you were doing really tore me down, I obviously wouldn't be friends with you.

Sometimes, though, you all have your little quirks. That's not a bad thing. It means you're a human.

The harmonious ring of teenagerdom

There's this guy in my English class. His name may or may not be Trace Ingram, and he's pretty damn attractive.

But it's not his handsome features or lovely eyes that get my attention. It's the fact that in the few times we've spoken to each other, I learned that he has an interest in anatomy and physiology like I do! He even showed me this cute little ipod surgery game.

He's so perfect.

But he clearly is into Sam Matthews, who sits in the same aisle I do. They make eye contact all the time, and a week ago she and Trace were pretty much acting like they're a couple, so I figure, oh well. I'm sure he's mormon too, as well as a football player. There's no way that someone like me could ever have a chance.

I know, that little phrase was a total cliche. Who cares? It's the truth. Whenever he's there in class, I can't ever concentrate. He looks at me a lot, so I'm paranoid all the time when I'm not looking at him. I constantly make sure my profile isn't facing him, because I really hate my profile.

Contradicting, however, is the fact that I don't want anything to ever happen between us because I can only imagine how much drama could be associated with it. And he probably wouldn't be accepted by my very...biased and judgmental friends.

There's also this other guy in my US history class. His name is Parker, and he's a very quiet person. I mean, I almost hardly ever hear him speak, but he's handsome and mysterious and something makes me want to be his friend. He took the same bus I did last year and I got on the first stop, he got on one of the last stops. So peculiar...he always made eye contact with me every morning. It could have been unintentional, but it happened, and it just has me so fascinated.

Then there's Halofom. Hal, for short. I always pictured Hal to be an old cowboy's name or something, but Halofom is in my journalism class. We make eye contact a lot too. He's obnoxious sometimes, but very sweet when he talks to me. He even wanted to try shooting paper into the trash can with his left hand, failed, and looked really embarrassed afterwords. I was his editor for a month, and he listened intently to anything I would say. I really like him.

All of these guys...I'd love to go on a date with, but never just pair up and call it 'boyfriend'. I don't want to have to deal with any heartbreak associated with relationships right now. Tyler's going through it slightly with Ryan because Tyler's sister and I both think that Ryan's taking advantage of Tyler sexually and already had given him an STD. I know, very blunt, but true. Very very true....Sigh.

If only boys would be braver and more willing. :(

This is why I can't wait for college.

Whereas my heart remains untethered

There's no way around the excruciating pain of living an ordinary life. Most days I just breathe and do what I am expected to do. There's no conflicting feelings about an assignment, there's no question about what I have to do at work. I experience a life full of routine and utter boredom in what I do every day.

Did you know that I dream--be it night dreaming or day dreaming or just fantasizing--nearly 40% of my school time, and nearly 90% of my free time? I can't afford to let my mind wander while I'm at work, but if I could, I would.

The weird thing is that even dreaming has become dissatisfying in my need to feel unique. My dramatic friends have begun to take over what little time and space I have for thinking. It's all about the relationships.

Tyler's starting to finally act like my best friend again. Thank god. I've been worried that maybe our previous relationship ruined things, but I'm glad to see that wasn't the case. I mean, I understand his disattraction to the female gender and all, but he doesn't have to feel like he can't ever touch me in a best friend sort of affection. I mean, for god's sake, Brayden and Kaeli are all over each other but there is absolutely no such physical or romantic desire between them whatsoever. I want that between us, but Tyler's too busy dividing ANY physical interaction he could ever muster with his new boyfriend, Ryan.

Ryan's a vegan. Strict vegan. He won't touch products that have ANYTHING coming from animals. Not even Burt's Bees chapstick. Because it comes from bees. Bees are apparently animals... He's way cool though. I really like him. Except for the part where he's slept with a few people and may or may not be giving my best friend STD's....

Kaeli's been....everywhere regarding boys. She's broken up with Tyler K., dated three other guys within the past few weeks, sworn off dating, missed Tyler, dated more, etc etc. This is sort of a sensitive subject for me, considering that she gets a ton of guys all over her the minute she breaks up with Tyler, and I've been single for basically a long time and not one normal guy has wanted to even take me on a date.

Instead, I get Brody, who's into me again, Sebron, who's creepily there, watching, waiting, Brett, who can only ever just be my awesome friend, and that Kaleb guy who I met at homecoming and is severely hated by ever inch of Junior's short little body. I haven't seen him much lately, and I doubt Kaleb really does like me like that. I'm just trying to point out that no mormon guy wants to take me on a date because I'm probably really intimidating, that I can't flirt worth my life, and that I probably scare a lot of boys away. Sometimes I feel like I don't throw myself out there enough, or that I'm not pretty enough to get other guys' attentions. Maybe.

With Brody being my ex, I'm really hesitant about him. Mainly because we've tried it already. I mean, I want OTHER guys to notice, not the ones in our tight little misfit group. At the same time, I don't even want to go on a date, because I'm just too busy with school work and real work to even consider taking time away from my friends to go on a date with another guy.

You see how utterly horrible I am when it comes to making decisions about guys? Sigh. I should just give up, stay single, and never have any kids while saving lives.

Nah, he'll come. He'll be older, I'll be older, more can be done, more time can be spent, and more meaning can be played into the relationship. High school boys are immature, gross, and obnoxious. So there.


You know, it's a hard, routinely life. Sometimes I get so sick of it.

There are times when I cry for no reason. No reason whatsoever. Sometimes I can't make myself smile, and my friends' concern only bothers me more. I can't pinpoint a reason as to why I have to cry in my room before I go to sleep. I just don't know why. It's been going on for a week and a half now, almost two weeks. I find myself laughing and having fun with my friends, but then the next minute, I sink into a low emotional state and retreat into my thoughts.

People aren't sympathetic either, nor do they care about what they say around me. "Oh, I've had a miscarriage." "I have too!" Yeah, well, good for you. I'm a virgin who tried dating a gay guy.

Sometimes the situations at home can be really demanding too, or just the depression that floats from Almond to me to mom to me to Almond and back around. Mom's MS, Almond's SADD, my....nothing? Annoying brothers, annoying dad, constantly messy room, nothing to ever eat.  Not much sleep. It all adds up.

But I can usually handle these things. Easily. I did it just find last winter.

I don't get what's wrong. Not really.