My father was trying to run a Cycling Or Something program disc on our laptop/desktop, but found that the thing wouldn't work with macs.
Instead of, you know, using a different program, or just buying the Mac version (90 percent cert it exists) this motherfucker BOUGHT A HUGENORMOUS PC DESKTOP AND STORED IT IN THE WORKOUT ROOM BECAUSE WE HAVE NO GODDAMN PLACE TO PUT IT.
REALLY
REALLY.
HE BOUGHT
A PC
OUT OF SPITE
WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AM I RELATED TO THIS MAAAAAAAAAAAN
xx
Monday, October 8, 2012
Catching Up
My poor, poor blog, I've abandoned you once again.
Granted, I've had actual Life to attend to, always fun.
It's thanksgiving weekend here in Canada (the fact that I have to clarify is just another way that American culture has shit on my life), so I got the day off school today, which I appreciate. Unfortunately, I've spent all weekend with family invading my house/personal space, so it's not like I've been kicking back on my tumblr or anything.
The life I lead is a difficult one.
--
Okay, don't get me wrong. I love my family.
I just... hate them. With more of a passion and frequency and intensity than I find myself loving them.
But I have Calabrese blood in me (Italians? no? moving on...) so, you know, it's acceptable.
Yesterday was dramatic. I managed to offend an entire family branch of mah people in under thirty seconds, which is probably a record for me. Not that I particularly care whose feelings I hurt or when (leggo Simona, make yourself sound like EVEN MORE of a cold hearted biatch than you already are!); it's just that, now I have to do the whole Ego Buildup, I'm Sorry I Didn't Mean What I Said thing, which is always the worst part.
I'm not good at apologizing, because I never say things that aren't true, so I'm never really truly sorry for saying them.
Why People Think I'm Awful: A Short History
Oh how I wish I could go into specifics.
Where are my internet friends from across the globe who will come save me and bring me to AustraliaNewZealandDublinEtc and let me help run their small but internationally acclaimed Internet Thing for just enough profit/board?
Where are they now?
Going to go read the 294038957486548 Cracked.com (don't make fun of me, I have no idea how I end up there I just DO) articles I noncommittally opened in under a minute,
Simona *
Granted, I've had actual Life to attend to, always fun.
It's thanksgiving weekend here in Canada (the fact that I have to clarify is just another way that American culture has shit on my life), so I got the day off school today, which I appreciate. Unfortunately, I've spent all weekend with family invading my house/personal space, so it's not like I've been kicking back on my tumblr or anything.
The life I lead is a difficult one.
--
Okay, don't get me wrong. I love my family.
I just... hate them. With more of a passion and frequency and intensity than I find myself loving them.
But I have Calabrese blood in me (Italians? no? moving on...) so, you know, it's acceptable.
Yesterday was dramatic. I managed to offend an entire family branch of mah people in under thirty seconds, which is probably a record for me. Not that I particularly care whose feelings I hurt or when (leggo Simona, make yourself sound like EVEN MORE of a cold hearted biatch than you already are!); it's just that, now I have to do the whole Ego Buildup, I'm Sorry I Didn't Mean What I Said thing, which is always the worst part.
I'm not good at apologizing, because I never say things that aren't true, so I'm never really truly sorry for saying them.
Why People Think I'm Awful: A Short History
Oh how I wish I could go into specifics.
Where are my internet friends from across the globe who will come save me and bring me to AustraliaNewZealandDublinEtc and let me help run their small but internationally acclaimed Internet Thing for just enough profit/board?
Where are they now?
Going to go read the 294038957486548 Cracked.com (don't make fun of me, I have no idea how I end up there I just DO) articles I noncommittally opened in under a minute,
Simona *
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Oh yeah
Roma was cool
Italy has a lot of indians in it I guess?
And everyone speaks every language on earth all the time?
And weird italian boys kept trying to buy usroofie coladas drinks because Sam is pretty and outgoing and stuff.
It's ok. She can have pretty and outgoing and stuff. I'll stay headthinky.
um.
THAT IS ALL GOODBYE
xx
S
Italy has a lot of indians in it I guess?
And everyone speaks every language on earth all the time?
And weird italian boys kept trying to buy us
It's ok. She can have pretty and outgoing and stuff. I'll stay headthinky.
um.
THAT IS ALL GOODBYE
xx
S
I have this built in defence mechanism, where, like, if someone makes puppy dog eyes at me, I die
Which leads me to believe I was probably born in a test tube somewhere in America and then given to brainwashed Canadian people (my parents) once the experiment was over and now I just have to live as a person until I'm activated as an extraordinarily awkward sleeper cell of sorts.
And stuff.
That seems like a very America kind of thing to do to a person.
I just, like, can't even ever.
The thing is (with me living as a person until I'm activated as an extraordinarily awkward sleeper cell of sorts), is that I SUCK at it. I SUCK at being a person.
And I mean this in the least ooh-I'm-a-teenaged-girl-and-I-feel-awkward-because-it's-TRENDY kind of way possible.
I'm just like not good at emoting. About anything.
I DUNNO EMOTIONS MAKE ME NERVOUS LIKE AH STOP GO AWAY
and stuff
x
Simona
And stuff.
That seems like a very America kind of thing to do to a person.
I just, like, can't even ever.
The thing is (with me living as a person until I'm activated as an extraordinarily awkward sleeper cell of sorts), is that I SUCK at it. I SUCK at being a person.
And I mean this in the least ooh-I'm-a-teenaged-girl-and-I-feel-awkward-because-it's-TRENDY kind of way possible.
I'm just like not good at emoting. About anything.
I DUNNO EMOTIONS MAKE ME NERVOUS LIKE AH STOP GO AWAY
and stuff
x
Simona
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Since I Brought Up The Trip To Rome And I'm Leaving Today
This entire ordeal was super last minute, if I didn't know better I would think Nonna was sending me and rach and sam to be executed for her weird amazonian tribe of youth. Is that how normal vacations work? She just kinda called last month like "wanna go to italy?" and I was like "sure" and that was that. Weird life.
But! Still! Visiting the motherland! Hopefully brushing up on some of my should-be-but-isn't native tongue!
I am a sad excuse for an italian, given my blonde hair and inability to speak the language.
I don't remember much of italy- I've only ever been when I was much younger.
Why did my mum just hug me? Maybe I am being executed in the spirit of a weird amazonian tribe of youth. We're not really big on hugging or feelings or emotions and whatnot in my family. Is this the last time I'll ever see Canada? Hopefully this is like some kind of Sherlock/Irene Adler case where my executioner saves me right before they chop my head off.
Okay, so, considering that I'm probably going to die on this trip, I should go give my dog a hug or summat (don't make fun of me for saying summat, it's all Hagrid's fault), but... I'll save the hugging for later. She's furry and kinda smells like ass.
That's all I guess?
Viva.
But! Still! Visiting the motherland! Hopefully brushing up on some of my should-be-but-isn't native tongue!
I am a sad excuse for an italian, given my blonde hair and inability to speak the language.
I don't remember much of italy- I've only ever been when I was much younger.
Why did my mum just hug me? Maybe I am being executed in the spirit of a weird amazonian tribe of youth. We're not really big on hugging or feelings or emotions and whatnot in my family. Is this the last time I'll ever see Canada? Hopefully this is like some kind of Sherlock/Irene Adler case where my executioner saves me right before they chop my head off.
Okay, so, considering that I'm probably going to die on this trip, I should go give my dog a hug or summat (don't make fun of me for saying summat, it's all Hagrid's fault), but... I'll save the hugging for later. She's furry and kinda smells like ass.
That's all I guess?
Viva.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Sleep Deprivation Brings You..........
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with anything right now.
I can't. I can't even. I can no longer even, I have lost my ability to even.
I knew that staying up all night was a bad idea, but Supernatural, right? Anyway, I'm all caught up now. Purgatory? Really? Writers, you are fucking with tiny hippo.
And of course,
.
Oh, and the original comic for that is here, in case no one speaks internet like I do.
Although, almost everyone ever is familiar with tiny hippo. Which is why I refer to myself and occasionally my feels as tiny hippo. Because tiny ravens who fuck with my tiny hippo heart get shanked. Simple.
I'm off track.
Point being, my "meat suit" I suppose definitely didn't have the juice for this expedition, and it currently feels like every cell in my body is dying. I don't mean Lassie dying, I mean billion year old star imploding into a black hole kinda dying. I'm allergic to caffeine and I'm currently loaded on it so that might be a factor (not deadly allergic, mostly just unpleasantness). And also my sleep schedule has been effed for years; occasionally I go all off the rails like this.
It feels like some form of nauseating regeneration.
Sucks.
My brain is whirring around so weirdly right now I might as well be possessed, I nearly threw a brick through the tv screen cause some woman on it wouldn't shut up about pleather.
Daft old bitch.
She fucking with tiny hippo, man.
You know what happens when people fuck with tiny hippo.
I can't even type right now.
PRO: mother bought me lime gelato tea from david's, which is glorious.
Whatever hoodoo magic this "david" is working on this drink, I salute him. I once had carrot cake pu'erh tea. CARROT CAKE. And it tasted genuine! Just like this tastes like genuine lime gelato. I'm Italian, I KNOW.
-
Oh speaking of Italy, tomorrow I'm going to Rome.
Kinda failed to mention that bit when I was ceaselessly whining like a lil bitch about god knows what.
Yup. Rome with Sam and Rach (university cousins).
For seven days. Exciting! Hopefully I'll be able to score something or other to knock me out for the flight.
Actually, no, why even try? NOTHING WORKS. I can't sleep sitting up or lying down or upside down or EVER (exaggerating).
Brb, gonna go attempt to not die on my way to the bathroom. Fun timez.
Back! Good news, didn't vomit or die. I was kinda expecting that to be the last time I ever walked the earth, but eh. I'm paranoid.
hiuf;sfifhjkfrhjfrjuhjkrgrskjhdsrkjhearsjklaweijldsfgbhjdszfgijlbhjer
leave nme lakoienfkj
This human body is deteriorating, man. We are a SHITTY species.
I can't. I can't even. I can no longer even, I have lost my ability to even.
I knew that staying up all night was a bad idea, but Supernatural, right? Anyway, I'm all caught up now. Purgatory? Really? Writers, you are fucking with tiny hippo.
And of course,
.Although, almost everyone ever is familiar with tiny hippo. Which is why I refer to myself and occasionally my feels as tiny hippo. Because tiny ravens who fuck with my tiny hippo heart get shanked. Simple.
I'm off track.
Point being, my "meat suit" I suppose definitely didn't have the juice for this expedition, and it currently feels like every cell in my body is dying. I don't mean Lassie dying, I mean billion year old star imploding into a black hole kinda dying. I'm allergic to caffeine and I'm currently loaded on it so that might be a factor (not deadly allergic, mostly just unpleasantness). And also my sleep schedule has been effed for years; occasionally I go all off the rails like this.
It feels like some form of nauseating regeneration.
Sucks.
My brain is whirring around so weirdly right now I might as well be possessed, I nearly threw a brick through the tv screen cause some woman on it wouldn't shut up about pleather.
Daft old bitch.
She fucking with tiny hippo, man.
You know what happens when people fuck with tiny hippo.
I can't even type right now.
PRO: mother bought me lime gelato tea from david's, which is glorious.
Whatever hoodoo magic this "david" is working on this drink, I salute him. I once had carrot cake pu'erh tea. CARROT CAKE. And it tasted genuine! Just like this tastes like genuine lime gelato. I'm Italian, I KNOW.
-
Oh speaking of Italy, tomorrow I'm going to Rome.
Kinda failed to mention that bit when I was ceaselessly whining like a lil bitch about god knows what.
Yup. Rome with Sam and Rach (university cousins).
For seven days. Exciting! Hopefully I'll be able to score something or other to knock me out for the flight.
Actually, no, why even try? NOTHING WORKS. I can't sleep sitting up or lying down or upside down or EVER (exaggerating).
Brb, gonna go attempt to not die on my way to the bathroom. Fun timez.
Back! Good news, didn't vomit or die. I was kinda expecting that to be the last time I ever walked the earth, but eh. I'm paranoid.
hiuf;sfifhjkfrhjfrjuhjkrgrskjhdsrkjhearsjklaweijldsfgbhjdszfgijlbhjer
leave nme lakoienfkj
This human body is deteriorating, man. We are a SHITTY species.
I've mentioned this before, but
I just get such an INTENSE RAGE in my heart whenever I see a mommy blog
INTENSE
RAGE
IN TENTS
INSIDE OF THE TENTS
IN TENSE
PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE UP IN THIS MOTHER
RAGE
INTENSE
RAGE
IN TENTS
INSIDE OF THE TENTS
IN TENSE
PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE UP IN THIS MOTHER
RAGE
Repressed Alpha Female: Sucks
Sometimes I wonder how I would've turned out if it weren't for all this... inability to interact with people on an interpersonal level type stuff.
Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic.
I'm fine once I get comfortable with people, really.
But at the beginning I'm all "smile too hard and be polite until you can get out of this horrendously awkward situation ha ha jokey times please can I go home".
I kind of think I would've been an Alpha Female, you know? I mean, my personality and the general state of my psyche are 2 totally different things, and I can't help but feel like the latter is ruining my damn life.
I've got the characteristics! It's all here, buried in my head. I'm way too ambitious for my own good. I do kind of desperately long to be around people sometimes. I'm just cutthroat enough to not be all psycho evil bitch but to be all ain't no one fucks with tiny hippo. (+5 for you if you got that reference)
Alpha female. That sounds like me in the corners of my head, but not the me that I actively put forth unto this glorious, unsuspecting world. Because I can't. I try, and then I open my damn mouth and I've got 70 billion different types of "what?" spewing from my maw.
And sometimes (kinda now) I think it's all a load of bullshit and it's all in my head and why should I feel nervous ever? About anything?
And I know how people work, I know what to do I just can't do it because I think too hard and actually, overestimate. Overestimate someone's intelligence or kindness or humanitarian qualities and it ruins my eyebrows as it blows up in my face because I'm not running on quite the same frequency as like anyone ever.
Or maybe it's just Teen Blogger Syndrome.
Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic.
I'm fine once I get comfortable with people, really.
But at the beginning I'm all "smile too hard and be polite until you can get out of this horrendously awkward situation ha ha jokey times please can I go home".
I kind of think I would've been an Alpha Female, you know? I mean, my personality and the general state of my psyche are 2 totally different things, and I can't help but feel like the latter is ruining my damn life.
I've got the characteristics! It's all here, buried in my head. I'm way too ambitious for my own good. I do kind of desperately long to be around people sometimes. I'm just cutthroat enough to not be all psycho evil bitch but to be all ain't no one fucks with tiny hippo. (+5 for you if you got that reference)
Alpha female. That sounds like me in the corners of my head, but not the me that I actively put forth unto this glorious, unsuspecting world. Because I can't. I try, and then I open my damn mouth and I've got 70 billion different types of "what?" spewing from my maw.
And sometimes (kinda now) I think it's all a load of bullshit and it's all in my head and why should I feel nervous ever? About anything?
And I know how people work, I know what to do I just can't do it because I think too hard and actually, overestimate. Overestimate someone's intelligence or kindness or humanitarian qualities and it ruins my eyebrows as it blows up in my face because I'm not running on quite the same frequency as like anyone ever.
Or maybe it's just Teen Blogger Syndrome.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Second Time Already...
These Supernatural-based nightmares are getting ridiculous.
This time it was from the perspective of Sam. I make an intense moose. Last time it was Dean. Still in the same mall, with the same weirddemonic infectious virus, originating in a big bookstore. Oddly enough, I ended up choreographing a zombie dance to Stayin' Alive while wearing a leotard. Merely as a way to distract them, but still. Actually, during that time I was me, not Sam. Guess I couldn't envision Mr Jolly Green dancing to the Bee Gees. That changed after I was done being sassy and wonderful, but still. And their weakness was still the same, and still remedied by shooting at them through what appears to be an ordinary first-person shooter game with the addition of a weird ass crystal. Big change though, this time I was chased by a little girl, who actually kind of reminded me of Lilith. Just a little. I think this time, it was a government construct-- last time they were fighting the disease, this time they were possibly weaponizing studying it.
My imagination must be getting tired.
I think this time I was veering more towards lucid. It felt kind of wrong, you know? And then I was ME whilst dancing like, um, a Drag Queen. And even when I was Sam, I felt like that wasn't quite right-- although I didn't have much time to ponder that, given that I was being chased around a mall by an infected six year old and worrying that her zombified compatriots would break out of their makeshift library prison.
I managed to get on the phone with Dean, who was massively unhelpful-- thanks, not big brother. Led me to wonder how they ever got separated in the first place.
I know no one really likes listening to a fifteen year old talk about a dream, ffs, but hell, my blog. I'll ignore my Target Market rule as long as I damn well please.
Weird. Weirdweirdweird. Weird that I've had what seems to be a part 1 featuring Dean Winchester and a part 2 featuring Sam Winchester. Didn't know my head was organized like that. Also weird that this time the government was all wonky, unlike last time. Maybe Dean appeals more to authority figures? ........No, I knew that was wrong before I'd even finished thinking it.
Someone help, I'm going stir crazy.
This time it was from the perspective of Sam. I make an intense moose. Last time it was Dean. Still in the same mall, with the same weird
My imagination must be getting tired.
I think this time I was veering more towards lucid. It felt kind of wrong, you know? And then I was ME whilst dancing like, um, a Drag Queen. And even when I was Sam, I felt like that wasn't quite right-- although I didn't have much time to ponder that, given that I was being chased around a mall by an infected six year old and worrying that her zombified compatriots would break out of their makeshift library prison.
I managed to get on the phone with Dean, who was massively unhelpful-- thanks, not big brother. Led me to wonder how they ever got separated in the first place.
I know no one really likes listening to a fifteen year old talk about a dream, ffs, but hell, my blog. I'll ignore my Target Market rule as long as I damn well please.
Weird. Weirdweirdweird. Weird that I've had what seems to be a part 1 featuring Dean Winchester and a part 2 featuring Sam Winchester. Didn't know my head was organized like that. Also weird that this time the government was all wonky, unlike last time. Maybe Dean appeals more to authority figures? ........No, I knew that was wrong before I'd even finished thinking it.
Someone help, I'm going stir crazy.
Clarification
I guess I should mention that I left some posts undeleted from like 2010 on this blog.
Mainly because even though they're unspeakably lame and var var 12 years old, I know I'd forget what I was talking about, and I kinda don't want that to happen?
Mem'ries, all alooone in the moooonliiiight....
xx
Simona
Mainly because even though they're unspeakably lame and var var 12 years old, I know I'd forget what I was talking about, and I kinda don't want that to happen?
Mem'ries, all alooone in the moooonliiiight....
xx
Simona
Monday, August 27, 2012
Thrust into social interaction with disastrous results
Serious traumatic situation times:
I was just called by a "friend" (reconsidering that status) and commanded to walk two blocks to go see her. Seems simple enough right? WRONGWRONGWRONG THE SECOND I GOT THERE I WAS SURROUNDED BY COMPLETE AND TOTAL MORONIC VAPID VAPID GIRLS AND THEY LOOKED AT ME LIKE I WAS THE WEIRDO FREAKASS.
This entire situation is such a Piss Off.
I mean, 1) my friend knows how I get around... people, why would she do this to me?
2) when I got there she gave me a hug and whispered in my ear "good luck, they're kinda bitchy" which is SO THE EXACT WRONG THING TO SAY EVER
3) they were all over-manicured and they had identical eyebrows (STUPIDLY identical) and the same too deep black hair parted on the side and wavy and WAY too much makeup to be comfortable considering how hot it was and booty shorts and tight tank tops and bad lipstick and phones and I was such an Odd One Out. Cause I strolled up all smiles and blonde hair and smiles and THE JUXTAPOSITION WAS INTENSE (in tents).
Important makeup note: if your foundation looks like melted plastic on your face--that generally means TOO MUCH
Not to mention they all kind of stared like I was dinner and none of them ever actually spoke a word to me. I was like "hi :)" and it was all *silence*.
I REGRET THAT SMILE.
I TAKE IT BACK.
YOU DON'T GET BLONDIE SMILES ANY MORE.
It was actually scary how... Robotic it all was. They were all identical. IDENTICAL.
WITH THE MAKEUP AND THE THIN AND THE STOMACH-BARING AND THE OH GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE.
I think I stood round with them for, um, 5 minutes. And then I legitimately turned to my friend and completely abandoned her. "Sorry love, but I've gotta go be, um. Not here." I refused to give fucks. There was something about my mom making me clean sinks and me being "Suzy Fuckin' Homemaker" but I mostly just scrambled the fuck out of there, fast.
Fast.
I sometimes forget that people in real life are like that.
That there are real people who really act like that.
I bet they're not really emotionally attached to fictional characters or really stupidly excited by releases of varied fandom type stuff, the poor things.
I just wanted to scream "FRIENDS, DESPITE THE WAY YOU STARE, I AM VERY NOT THE LESSER BEING RIGHT NOW".
But I mostly I made excuses andran sprinted practically teleported calmly walked my way out of there.
I thought my currently-exiled-for-exposing-me-to-that friend had better judgement than that. This is the first time I'm saying this, but I genuinely hope she hangs out with them purely for the drug connections (which are apparently incredible).
Well you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm NOT sorry that I'm a nerd and a dork and I'm excited and easily enthused. I'm NOT sorry that I don't wear booty shorts (I don't care how thin you are, that shit rides) and I would be considerably squishier in a tank top. And most of all, I'm NOT sorry for not being their asspirate identical i-Robot just cause they thought that drowning in foundation was The Look. I. Do. Not. Apologize. For infringing on five minutes of their precious goddamned useless time. I'm TRULY NOT SORRY that I showed up the exact OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING THEY ARE/REPRESENT. I think, if ANYTHING else, I'll take my sunshiney smile and cutesy hair flowers. It's not precisely me, but it's more me than them, and THAT WORKS.
LET IT BE KNOWN FROM HERE ON OUT THAT
I
AM
NOT
SORRY.
Ughhhhhhhhhhhh rage.
You know when you walk into a group of strangers and you can immediately FEEL the disapproval? That. That that that.
And maybe if I hadn't been in the middle of trying not to wheeze and curl up and die right there on the spot, I would've stood straighter and glared back and been all Katniss Everdeen as I walked away saying "Thank you, for your consideration" except it wouldn't have been genuine because if I have to give up my individuality to be in someone's little effin group, well, no thank you.
But I didn't. Like the social-cue-missingest nerd that I am, I just calmly left. Immediately.
-----------------------
It's amazing how much of an impact five minutes can make.
xx
Keep calm and NERD ON.
I was just called by a "friend" (reconsidering that status) and commanded to walk two blocks to go see her. Seems simple enough right? WRONGWRONGWRONG THE SECOND I GOT THERE I WAS SURROUNDED BY COMPLETE AND TOTAL MORONIC VAPID VAPID GIRLS AND THEY LOOKED AT ME LIKE I WAS THE WEIRDO FREAKASS.
This entire situation is such a Piss Off.
I mean, 1) my friend knows how I get around... people, why would she do this to me?
2) when I got there she gave me a hug and whispered in my ear "good luck, they're kinda bitchy" which is SO THE EXACT WRONG THING TO SAY EVER
3) they were all over-manicured and they had identical eyebrows (STUPIDLY identical) and the same too deep black hair parted on the side and wavy and WAY too much makeup to be comfortable considering how hot it was and booty shorts and tight tank tops and bad lipstick and phones and I was such an Odd One Out. Cause I strolled up all smiles and blonde hair and smiles and THE JUXTAPOSITION WAS INTENSE (in tents).
Important makeup note: if your foundation looks like melted plastic on your face--that generally means TOO MUCH
Not to mention they all kind of stared like I was dinner and none of them ever actually spoke a word to me. I was like "hi :)" and it was all *silence*.
I REGRET THAT SMILE.
I TAKE IT BACK.
YOU DON'T GET BLONDIE SMILES ANY MORE.
It was actually scary how... Robotic it all was. They were all identical. IDENTICAL.
WITH THE MAKEUP AND THE THIN AND THE STOMACH-BARING AND THE OH GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE.
I think I stood round with them for, um, 5 minutes. And then I legitimately turned to my friend and completely abandoned her. "Sorry love, but I've gotta go be, um. Not here." I refused to give fucks. There was something about my mom making me clean sinks and me being "Suzy Fuckin' Homemaker" but I mostly just scrambled the fuck out of there, fast.
Fast.
I sometimes forget that people in real life are like that.
That there are real people who really act like that.
I bet they're not really emotionally attached to fictional characters or really stupidly excited by releases of varied fandom type stuff, the poor things.
I just wanted to scream "FRIENDS, DESPITE THE WAY YOU STARE, I AM VERY NOT THE LESSER BEING RIGHT NOW".
But I mostly I made excuses and
I thought my currently-exiled-for-exposing-me-to-that friend had better judgement than that. This is the first time I'm saying this, but I genuinely hope she hangs out with them purely for the drug connections (which are apparently incredible).
Well you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm NOT sorry that I'm a nerd and a dork and I'm excited and easily enthused. I'm NOT sorry that I don't wear booty shorts (I don't care how thin you are, that shit rides) and I would be considerably squishier in a tank top. And most of all, I'm NOT sorry for not being their asspirate identical i-Robot just cause they thought that drowning in foundation was The Look. I. Do. Not. Apologize. For infringing on five minutes of their precious goddamned useless time. I'm TRULY NOT SORRY that I showed up the exact OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING THEY ARE/REPRESENT. I think, if ANYTHING else, I'll take my sunshiney smile and cutesy hair flowers. It's not precisely me, but it's more me than them, and THAT WORKS.
LET IT BE KNOWN FROM HERE ON OUT THAT
I
AM
NOT
SORRY.
Ughhhhhhhhhhhh rage.
You know when you walk into a group of strangers and you can immediately FEEL the disapproval? That. That that that.
And maybe if I hadn't been in the middle of trying not to wheeze and curl up and die right there on the spot, I would've stood straighter and glared back and been all Katniss Everdeen as I walked away saying "Thank you, for your consideration" except it wouldn't have been genuine because if I have to give up my individuality to be in someone's little effin group, well, no thank you.
But I didn't. Like the social-cue-missingest nerd that I am, I just calmly left. Immediately.
-----------------------
It's amazing how much of an impact five minutes can make.
xx
Keep calm and NERD ON.
Matteo is going to blog now (in the style of a homestuck pesterlog)
spiderMan [SM] began pestering blogQueen [BQ] at 4:20
SM: Dear fellow bloggers around the world,
SM: I fail to see the excitement in what you do on the computer. When there are millions of other things to do in the world, you would rather sit on your ass and gain fifty pounds in a month.
BQ: This is untrue.
SM: I also have a rant about frosted flakes.
SM:Dear frosted flakes,
SM:You don't help kids at all! All you do is tell kids to eat and then they'll be athletic. Sure the cereal lasts for about five minutes, but then the second later they faceplant into the ground. FACEPLANT. It gives kids no nutritious value. They don't become stronger for eating frosted flakes.
BQ: Why do we care?
SM: What you really need to tell kids is eat Vector. It's good for you
SM: What you really need to tell kids is eat Vector. It's good for you
BQ: Why would a multi billion dollar corporation willingly advertise for a competitor?
SM: I don't know if this is a real thing I'm saying right now. But you should give them Vitamin O. Vitamin O stands for Oh Yes and you know why? Because that's the sound your wife made last night-
SM: I don't know if this is a real thing I'm saying right now. But you should give them Vitamin O. Vitamin O stands for Oh Yes and you know why? Because that's the sound your wife made last night-
BQ: THIS TRAIN OF THOUGHT ENDS HERE. WE DO NOT NEED ANY LAW SUITS ON A BLOG THAT HAS ONLY BEEN RESTARTED FOR 2 HOURS.
SM: So basically my unfunny message is, kids, eat vector. Cause that's also what your mother--
BQ: NO.
SM: Ha ha ha ha.
spiderMan [SM] ceased pestering blogQueen [BQ]
Well. That was something.
I think it's pretty clear, but just in case: matteo was spiderMan and I was blogQueen
Matteo.
My current (this is subject to change) sibling, Matteo Andrea, was born in the year 2000.
This is one of the many various irritating facts about him.
Like being born in 2000.
Seriously. Who's born in 2000?
He just ripped his shirt off and screamed "everyone". I find this facetious.
Why is this funny?
The shirt is completely gone.
As are his pants.
I may be annoying him by reading this aloud.
Possibly.
Now he's screaming for me to stop blogging.
I don't see why I should, he's not really affecting me by walking around sans clothing.
Weird.
This is one of the many various irritating facts about him.
Like being born in 2000.
Seriously. Who's born in 2000?
He just ripped his shirt off and screamed "everyone". I find this facetious.
Why is this funny?
The shirt is completely gone.
As are his pants.
I may be annoying him by reading this aloud.
Possibly.
Now he's screaming for me to stop blogging.
I don't see why I should, he's not really affecting me by walking around sans clothing.
Weird.
At 3:56 pm, a compromise has been agreed to
He fetched me another blanket.
We argued.
For an hour.
Over BLANKETS.
Vaffanculo.
Anyway, this stunning turn of events has left me looking EVEN MORE HOMELESS THAN BEFORE.
Of course.
We argued.
For an hour.
Over BLANKETS.
Vaffanculo.
Anyway, this stunning turn of events has left me looking EVEN MORE HOMELESS THAN BEFORE.
Of course.
Shit's about to get real.
Real homeless, that is.
Settling
I was going to make my First Official Post of a New Era about, I guess, my whole entire life, beginning with my tragically beautiful birth and ending with my beautifully tragic current state. (Wicked? Anyone?)
But that plan fell through the moment I got distracted by beautiful, beautiful gluten free cookies and my brother being generally a distracting asshole, and my need for whistling, and Seinfeld ABSOLUTELY BLASTING out of my tv screen.
So that plan's dead.
I've pulled another all-nighter and, as per usual, my make up is flawless and my hair is only slightly disgruntled (including the fake but still pretty white flower attached to the elastic of my ponytail), and from the neck down I pretty much look homeless.
It's something of a lone standing tradition that any all-nighters of mine end in the careful application of Just The Right amount of makeup to disguise the genuinely horrific state of My Face and a complete disregard for anything from the neck down.
My "attire" is currently being consumed by a blanket, actually.
This blanket has seen much horror.
For example, my little brother, currently at the startlingly awful age of 12 (as compared to my slightly less awful age of 15), managed to wrestle it out of my grips for a frighteningly cold 3 minutes and wear it himself.
Luckily I am well in-tune with the Art of War. I know my enemy, children. And I knew my enemy had to pee.
I swooped down while he was in the bathroom, gripped the blanket tight, and raised its soul from perdition. (Supernatural? Anyone?)
Unfortunately, this resulted in what I am currently calling a Test of My Own Ability to Contain And Curtail My Desire to Rip Limbs Off of My Younger Brother's Still-Breathing Body. What happens during this festival is that Matteo spends an (ongoing) 30 minutes circling the table I am sat at like a vulture, repeating phrases such as "can I have the blanket" and "can I please have the blanket" over and over with barely a breath in between. Occasionally he turns to the iPad and sets an automated voice to screech "can he have the blanket" in the hopes that he can annoy me into submission.
Honestly, it's not the worst he's ever done.
And that's kind of terrifying.
Currently, he's got the automatic censor app on the iPad going. It's essentially blaring a steady stream of "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep" into my ear. You know, the censor beep. Like in movies. This has been going for I suppose around 10 minutes. We've only actually seen 20 minutes of the torture that currently lasts 30. I'm good. Still good.
Oh! What's this?! A surprising new development! He's gotten out his bo. Boe? The pokey stick from his karate lessons.
This:
This is slightly more annoying.
24 minutes in. It'll be over soon.
He won't stop poking my face. But I will not give in.
And now he's trying to lift it off me with it. Like so!
I know my enemy. I will not give in.
27 minutes.
< excuse my derp
I have the sudden feeling that this is going to last far past 30 minutes.
28.
-
31.
He has resorted to playing some scenes from Dumb&Dumber on the iPad. And I am singing along to Jesus of Suburbia. I dunno man, I'm kind of enjoying this.
Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can't remember a word that you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
Oh therapy, can you please fill the void?
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed
Nobody's perfect and I stand accused
For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse
Damn straight.
40 minutes.
43 minutes.
I think I'll end this here.
But that plan fell through the moment I got distracted by beautiful, beautiful gluten free cookies and my brother being generally a distracting asshole, and my need for whistling, and Seinfeld ABSOLUTELY BLASTING out of my tv screen.
So that plan's dead.
I've pulled another all-nighter and, as per usual, my make up is flawless and my hair is only slightly disgruntled (including the fake but still pretty white flower attached to the elastic of my ponytail), and from the neck down I pretty much look homeless.
It's something of a lone standing tradition that any all-nighters of mine end in the careful application of Just The Right amount of makeup to disguise the genuinely horrific state of My Face and a complete disregard for anything from the neck down.
My "attire" is currently being consumed by a blanket, actually.
This blanket has seen much horror.
For example, my little brother, currently at the startlingly awful age of 12 (as compared to my slightly less awful age of 15), managed to wrestle it out of my grips for a frighteningly cold 3 minutes and wear it himself.
Luckily I am well in-tune with the Art of War. I know my enemy, children. And I knew my enemy had to pee.
I swooped down while he was in the bathroom, gripped the blanket tight, and raised its soul from perdition. (Supernatural? Anyone?)
Unfortunately, this resulted in what I am currently calling a Test of My Own Ability to Contain And Curtail My Desire to Rip Limbs Off of My Younger Brother's Still-Breathing Body. What happens during this festival is that Matteo spends an (ongoing) 30 minutes circling the table I am sat at like a vulture, repeating phrases such as "can I have the blanket" and "can I please have the blanket" over and over with barely a breath in between. Occasionally he turns to the iPad and sets an automated voice to screech "can he have the blanket" in the hopes that he can annoy me into submission.
Honestly, it's not the worst he's ever done.
And that's kind of terrifying.
Currently, he's got the automatic censor app on the iPad going. It's essentially blaring a steady stream of "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep" into my ear. You know, the censor beep. Like in movies. This has been going for I suppose around 10 minutes. We've only actually seen 20 minutes of the torture that currently lasts 30. I'm good. Still good.
Oh! What's this?! A surprising new development! He's gotten out his bo. Boe? The pokey stick from his karate lessons.
This:
This is slightly more annoying.
24 minutes in. It'll be over soon.
He won't stop poking my face. But I will not give in.
And now he's trying to lift it off me with it. Like so!
27 minutes.
< excuse my derp
I have the sudden feeling that this is going to last far past 30 minutes.
28.
-
31.
He has resorted to playing some scenes from Dumb&Dumber on the iPad. And I am singing along to Jesus of Suburbia. I dunno man, I'm kind of enjoying this.
Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can't remember a word that you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
Oh therapy, can you please fill the void?
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed
Nobody's perfect and I stand accused
For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse
Damn straight.
40 minutes.
43 minutes.
I think I'll end this here.
I am so very, very distracted
it took me all afternoon to make this blog habitable
ALL AFTERNOON
and now I have nothing to say
not fair
NOT FAIR
ALL AFTERNOON
and now I have nothing to say
not fair
NOT FAIR
Wow.
It's just a testament to like, my entire existence that I should spend all afternoon deleting and editing all the posts on this previously (and possibly currently) awful and humiliating blog, only to find that I have absolutely nothing to talk about right now.
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