Last nite

I went to the movies with a person who I'd never gone out with before. I thought it would be really awkward, but it wasn't.

I wish I could say it was a date, but it wasn't. I'm not even sure how it came about.

We talked a lot, and called out each moment of sexual tension between Sherlock and Watson, and it was fun. At the end, we hugged. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but I had to keep in mind it wasn't really a date. I regret not doing it. In the same breath, I'm glad I didn't.

I'm confused.

I'm a wuss

I don't know why I said anything about taking risks. I'm never going to do so.

I have a new found love for Sherlock Holmes. I just picture Robert Downey Jr. while I read, and it makes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle even more awesome.

Walt Whitman.

My best friend is sitting at the foot of my bed reading Song of Myself. She thinks that I am starting the final draft of my senior paper. So does my father. Little do they know, I'm really blogging. It's convincing, too. I'm typing with gumption, quick and fast, jotting all of these thoughts down, but they aren't about soldering or the specifics of amplification technology.

Sometime tonight, I'm actually going to do this paper. It haunts me. When I lay down at night to go to sleep, my paper crawls in and stops up my ears so that all I can hear is my own sanity crying "Mercy!"

I just keep thinking to myself, If I fail this thing, I don't graduate. From there, each thought just spirals downward. Which is why I'm not going to think about that right now.

I'm not a "risk-taker." I don't do "crazy" things. I don't "put myself out there."

I think I'm finally going to take a risk. I'm not going to say it here. If I did, you would realize how childish I am. To a lot of people, it's just like, whatever. But to me it's a BFD.

Caitlyn was just like, "You can't sit on the sidelines forever. You only live once," locker room type talk.

People are like geese.

They all just follow each other around. They can't do anything without consulting someone else first, seeing if it's the right thing to do. Really, it's a silly way to live.

Sometimes..

Things don't work out exactly the way you thought they would. Today, I woke up indifferent. This evening, I got hopeful. Now, I'm down. Really, today was great, I just always look at the bad side. So silly, right?

Sometimes life just doesn't feel fair. It's all muddled. But really, what is fair?

You know what's really awesome? Life. Everything in it is so unexpected. Even when it seems like everything sucks, something cheers me up. My best friend always helps. She's great.

I feel like I needed this. I needed to be humbled, I needed to cry over what I'd been holding in for so long. I just desperately needed to call out. I might not have the answers yet, but I know they'll come someday.

I know this probably makes absolutely no sense to you. This is about everything and anything. Sometimes you just need to release. Throw everything you hold onto so tightly into the air, and see where it falls.

Well, so much for that.

I had all this stuff in my head that I wanted to blog about. Like, I was roused from my state of half-sleep with these nagging thoughts, and now they're gone..

My place of employment was really busy tonight, and I felt so anemic. I started nodding off with subs in the toaster over. It was bad. The atmosphere in that godforsaken place sucks all of the energy out of me.

I think I'm finally sick of the food. I started eating a sub tonight, and thought I was going to be sick.

At first, I thought that I had caught something from this kid Nick. Today in gym, we had the option of either sitting on the bleachers and doing absolutely nothing, or dancing with the Spanish classes. Of course, I chose the Latin dancing over sitting with my lame friends who didn't want to dance. Nick was my main dance partner. It was so much fun; if you knew Nick, you would understand.

Anyway, what led me to question whether or not I had contracted something was a conversation with his brother, Matthew, who sat with me on the NHS field trip bus. Matt was talking to someone on the phone, and was saying that Nick had gotten sick. When he hung up, I was like, "What's wrong with Nick?" and he just said that he had thrown up at school, and had probably gotten something from their other brother who was at home, sick. That was a really confusing sentence, forgive me.

So when I started feeling nauseous whilst preparing sandwich masterpieces, I thought, I swear to God if this is Nick's fault.. I don't even know what I'll do.

I feel fine now, thank goodness. Nick is a lucky boy.

The Latin dancing sessions at school are always really awkward. At the end of the lesson, we always form a merengue circle. What happens is the guys ll make a circle facing outward, and the girls all move from guy to guy. Most of these people don't know each other, but that's not what makes it awkward. Keep in mind, most of these people looks like idiots when they dance (not that I don't), so you have to dance with a guy you've never even seen before, and who has no sense of rhythm. Don't get me wrong, I love the Latin dancing lessons, but they're still weird.

I love YouTube

"YouTube Recommends:
-Movie it like Bernie 2011
-Ricky Gervais: Hitler and Friedrich Nietzsche
-Young girl drops C-word on national TV... Twice!
-My Sisyphus Myths
-Laura Marling All My Rage (Jools Holland)
-RON PAUL is EXPLODING
-Mumford and Sons ft. Johnny Flynn: Banjolin
-You call that a knife? THIS is a knife!
-Earth's Funniest Clips: Cop caught dancing"

YouTube knows me so well.

In retrospect..

When I write this thing, I don't think at all. Everything spills out, unfiltered. I don't check my grammar, I repeat myself, but I still click "Post" when I'm done. Stream of consciousness.

Sometimes I wonder how many people have actually read anything at all from this blog. I have posted it on various social networking sites since I fist began blogging, and a few have commented about it in person, but I'm still curious.

I guess it just seems so pointless. It doesn't feel pointless, though. If I didn't write anything about myself,
I'd go nuts. I don't talk to many people anymore about my life, so I have to do something to make up for it.

Wow

I always wonder why I can't force myself up on Sunday mornings. Maybe it's because I'm up so late doing absolutely nothing.

Literally, all I've done:
-watch world's dumbest
-play dress-up
-clean my room
-creep on facebook

That's it, in the past, like, four hours.

I tweet way too much. I'm trying to cut back. You know it's bad when you say, "I'm trying to cut back." I mean, yeah, there are other people who tweet more than I do, but it is still annoying. It's so silly; I don't even know why I tweet so much. I don't really have that much to say, and when I do, it's not all that interesting. From today on, I will only tweet one profound, poignant thought per day.

I just remembered that I haven't started one part 5 of Crime and Punishment yet. I MUST have it finished by Tuesday. I can't even find it right now. It's terrible.

I need to go to sleep, or I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow. I'll try to blog about something other than myself soon.

It's Friday!

Getting down on Friday!

Not really. Actually, I'm in my pajamas already. Getting down in my pajamas on a lonely Friday night.

I'm beginning to appreciate lonely nights. I can just sit and think, or sit and not. I can sing really loud if I want. I can perform for an invisible audience.

It seems like almost every time I host a concert in my kitchen when no one else is home, I'm fronting My Chemical Romance. I'm not really sure why.

I went through an emo-ish phase in middle school. I wore a crap ton of eyeliner and listened to "emo" music. I watched Warped Wednesdays all summer long. And I loved Bayside.

I still love Bayside.

I'm finally going to see the Muppets movie tomorrow. I would be excited, if I wasn't broke. I can afford a movie ticket and gas for a couple more days, and I think that's it. It's almost an exhilarating feeling, living off of four dollars in cash.

I feel happy today. Today wasn't all that, but I feel so content. There are so many things that I've been worrying about over the past month or so, and I thought everything was going wrong. But right now, everything is just fine.

Lovely.

I haven't blogged in a while. I miss it, but I feel like I'm just going to whine about how dissatisfied I am. I can't remember what I've blogged about before. I don't want to be repeating myself.

I had a pint of blood sucked out of me yesterday. I have never had any of my blood taken from me in any way until then. I was so nervous when I was spread out of that abnormally tall beach chair. I was in between two kids at school that I don't dislike; the gospel choir kid was on my right, and the chill hipster on my left. Reassuring.

I was really expecting the needle to hurt worse than it did. Honestly, the finger prick in the very beginning the most painful part, although I got a bit woozy when I actually thought about what was happening to my body. I tried to look at the blood bag by my side, but my nurse was like, "Hey now, no peeking." She knew me so well.

I got free nutter butters at the end of the procedure, and awkwardly listened to these kids avoiding the stories behind their inside jokes. You know what I'm talking about.
Kid 1: "HAH! Black banana peels! Oh, those were the days."
Kid 2: "Harharhar, yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah....."
Me: "..."

I've been really down lately. And it's almost Christmas. How terrible am I? I feel like such a Scrooge, and I've never felt like that before.

Someone on my Twitter timeline just said something about how Christmas is supposed to be a time for thanksgiving, not for sulking. I feel like she was talking directly to me.

The worse part is I don't even know why I feel the way I do. It's like there is something missing, there's a hole. I know that's so cliche, but it's the truth.

Every time I drive, I crank up whatever is in my CD player so loud I can't think about anything except for the words assaulting my ears. I just scream along with it. I try to limit this extreme to my nighttime driving. It's really a sight for sore eyes.

Yesterday, when I was driving home from my friend's, I blared Laura Marling and just cried. The hole was filled for a few minutes, until I pulled into the driveway and shut off my car. Then it came right back, the zeitgeist of my happiness.

I've been looking for an excuse to use the word zeitgeist; apparently, it's the word of the week. I'm not totally sure that I used it right. But it sounds good.

You probably think I'm such a sad person, but I'm really not. The majority of the time I'm pretty darn happy. I'm hoping this is just a phase.

I want to write so much more, but I don't want to bore you.