Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Anyways. So there I was. Driving. With glowing bug guts. I put on my windshield wipers and sprayed the hell out of my windshield in an effort to clean the distracting, glowing guts off of it. Didn't work.
Apparently, if you're going to murder an insect by slamming into it at a high speed, make sure it's not a lightening bug - that shit is impossible to clean off.
So there I was, in the humid (because...this is Delaware. And summers here are humid as fuck) night, cleaning bug guts off my windshield with a bottle of Windex and a not unsubstantial amount of paper towels. I had happened to have a crappy day, and I felt as if it were my own blasted insides that I was cleaning off that damn windshield.
I could hear children playing down the street in the summer night. I remembered when I was younger, teaching Leech how to catch fireflies and romping around the neighborhood with my buddies until all hours of the night. We were kind of invincible then, in our own little bubbles of self-assured childhood.
I miss that. It occurs to me that I've spent a good deal of time mourning my childhood. Somewhere, along the lines of life, I lost my innocence and wonder, and grew up and became responsible. I think it's a problem that a lot of people in my age bracket grapple with - finding their place in the world.
We all want to hold on to our childhood selves, we don't want to lose who we are - but we want to succeed. We want to stride forth in the working world and be individuals that are capable of standing out in the crowd, and yet in our pursuit of this we tend to lose who we really are. It's a tricky sort of paradox.
How many compromises do we have to make in order to succeed? Hopefully, not many. However, a good many of my friends have forgotten who they are in favor of fitting in with the crowd. I've even caught myself, a few times, losing who and what I am in an effort to assimilate.
And it's sad, in a way, that we're even being forced to make this decision (even if said decision is oft made subconsciously). It's sad that, in a culture that claims to celebrate and embrace individuality, we're all losing our own individuality in an effort to stand out.
What happened to just being me?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
My dad is, and always will be, an irascible, opinionated buffoon. I can say this because I'm his daughter.
If any of you said it, it's be grounds for harsh judgement on my end.
My dad taught me how to use a chainsaw properly. How to take care of a fishtank. How to best annoy my mother.
He taught me how to make pancakes in the shape of a 's.'
I love my dad. Even though, more often than not, he frustrates the hell out of me with his old-world ideas on what a family is and how "ladies" are supposed to behave. Even though he eats his weight in ice-cream on a weekly basis, despite having diabetes. Even though he can be the absolute densest person on earth sometimes - which, quite frankly, is annoying as fuck.
He's still my daddy.
Happy Father's day, y'all.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
So yea. I get to have Lily for the second time in a row on my blog. Heh. Wahoo! This ring is shitty movie awareness club, or SMAC as we like to call it, and this month's feature concerns animated movies. Anyways, I'll just let Lily take it from here, since she's so much more awesome than I ever could be. If you'd like to see me rag on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, check out Tit's blog here. Also, big thanks to Nugs for organizing this monster of a ring - we love you long time.
Hi, and welcome to the June installment of Shitty Movie Awareness Club! This month’s theme is animated movies. And while, I love many animated movies, I have one to pick a bone or two with. I originally wanted to write about Disney’s Up. I quickly realized that despite the very depressing beginning to that movie, and how creepy I think it is that the old man travels around the world in his house with that chubby little boy …. I still LOVE Up and can never really say anything bad about it.
The Jetsons: The Movie. From the 1990’s. Not that I remember anything from 1990 (when the movie was released). I was only three, but I saw this when I was like six or seven and thought it was pretty stupid then, and I think it’s stupid now.
Firstly, the plot was dumb. How can someone as dumb as George Jetson get a super huge promotion, when according to Mr. Spacely, he’s a freaking idiot? To go from a Homer Simpson-esque position in Mr. Burn’s nuclear power plant to a Vice President position made my head explode. And the writers wanted me to believe that these cutesy wootesy little teddy bear thingies are the bad guys?! Yeah, NO!
Cute thingies can’t be bad guys! Plus they needed the sprockets, so screw you Mr. Spacely.
Everything’s just wrong with the stupid movie. It takes place it the near future. And while I guess in the 1950’s we thought we’d be a lot more advanced than we actually are… but that’s still no excuse (You hear that, Hanna-Barbera?). Here were my problems with this movie:
Problem #1: How do the Jetson’s live in the future and not have warm water? Even the Flintstones had warm water, and they were living in the Stone Age.
Problem #2: The people of the late 21st century have personal spaceships. But said ships have no breaks, and they have to break with their feet?!
The only thing that is semi-right is the robot maid thing:
Robot Maid meet Robot Maid.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Oh. Right. This isn't twitter, this is my blog. Silly me. Still though....#stoked.
Right. Onto Lily's post :) If you want to see mine, head on over to the fabulous Risha's blog (I know I say this everytime I post these things, but I so won the jackpot this time).
Hello Bloggerstock readers! I’m lily and I’m from Is it too early for a martini? Nyxy and I both signed up for two different blog rings, and by chance, I’m guest posting on her blog twice. And this is the first of the two.
This month for bloggerstock, we got a chance to bring out our old diaries and journals and reflect back on what we wrote. I found an entry that was short and simple… but I’m going to re-write is as an adult.
School today was boring. We didn’t do anything. We were supposed to start thinking about what we want to do it on. I’m not sure what I should do yet. It’s not really a competition type, so there’s no prize. And Mr. S ---- said he’s going to film us while we talk about our project. Weird.
After school, Luis walked me home. He told me he still liked me. I don’t know if I still like him. He said he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I told him I need to think about it. So I told him to call me later. Or I’ll just tell him on Monday.
How I would write this now:
I was being the typical underachiever today at school. I’m sure we were learning something we needed to learn … like the pythagorean theorem, or something like that. Our task was supposed to pick an experiment for our science project. Which - by the way - isn’t a competition like REAL science projects. What the fuck is up with that? I would so take this more seriously if I got some sort of ribbon, or even a certificate for this… but a trophy would be nice. Mr. S ---- told us he would be filming our presentations. Can you say CREEPO!? Who records 14 year olds talking about rotten bananas? Pedos. That’s who.
Luis and I walked home together after school. I mean, not like we don’t live in the same direction. He said he still liked me. And I don’t blame him. I’m the only girl in our class who doesn’t wear a training bra! Duh, he’s still going to like me. Then this little dipshit asked me out. Uh, yeah, no Luis. No. I don’t really like him anymore. He’s just really cute but kind of a douchebag. I told him to call me when he got home… because I have him wrapped around my finger. But, most likely on Monday, I’ll tell him, “No dice!”.