That Awkward Moment When...

So... looking back at my last post, I'll admit that I was in a bad place. But I feel better now, in case you were wondering. My weird face distortion allergy attack may have possibly just been a really bad cold... but I'm going to stick to telling people it was allergies, because then they won't hate me for potentially putting them in the position to get sick. I mean, it was probably allergies, because I get the same miserable stuffiness every fall and spring... but for some reason right now I feel fine, and I'm pretty sure it's still fall.

Anyway, back to the topic of this post. Awkwardness. It's something I face nearly everyday, yet I can rarely find a way to describe it. There are just so many levels and variations of awkwardness. Some that are funny, some that are sad, and some that are just plain "what the smurf are you doing?!"

Along with many other catch-phrase fads, one that has recently come up is "that awkward moment when..."

I can't say it ranks up there with "your mom," or "that's what she said," but it still gets a few chuckles. Usually the "that awkward moment when..." comes up when something happens to you or someone else that is kind of random and insignificantly awkward, yet somebody thinks it'd be funny to make it seem even more awkward by pointing out the bits of discomfort.

 

Yes, I have friends... even if this didn't actually happen...

So yeah. On a side note, I figure I'll mention my inspiration for this post. Sure, my entire life is kind of a hodgepodge of awkward moments, but right before I sat down to write a post I sent my friend a happy birthday text. I was extremely proud of myself for remembering, despite the fact that his name didn't come up on facebook under birthdays. Anyway I sent it, caps lock on and everything, only to get a text back that it was not actually his birthday. 

Those kind of awkward moments can easily be laughed off, especially since he's my good friend, but I still felt that initial.. haha oh wow that's slightly awkward feeling. 

I Can't Taste the Oreos...

Kill me now. Please. No. Wait. Just kill my nose. Take a giant meat cleaver and chop it right off. I swear to God I'll be less uncomfortable than I am now, because I have reached the epitome of discomfort.

It's times like these that make me glad I have the internet to hide behind. Or rather, have the internet to protect you from my congested ugliness. Be glad you cannot see me right now, because... well because I look a bit like this:

This is what allergens do to me. They horrendously disfigure my face and motivation to do anything. I hope that when you look at this picture, you will understand the shortness of my post. It is because I am miserable... and I would rather not slather my wretched feelings all over this blog. So... once I feel less like a pile of reindeer droppings and more like a human being with a working nose... I shall write something more entertaining.

Just to stress how hateful I am of the outdoors and its allergy-causing-ness... I can't taste anything. But most importantly, I can't taste oreos. They have taken my comfort food away, and I am sad.

Where's the Damn Gorilla Suit?!

I hate losing things. No, wait. I hate it when my brother loses things and refuses to help me find them. Seriously. If you've got the nerve to put something somewhere out of the ordinary, have the sense to remember where you put it! Or at least help your poor sister who is tearing up the floorboards trying to find it.

Now, I bet you are probably wondering why I'm looking for a gorilla suit. That's a very good question. You see, every year our school has an activities fair, where all of the clubs can try and attract the attention of random lurker students who don't actually do anything productive with their time. Usually there are about a thousand different tables with Dumdum lollipop bribes and big posters.

Most kids steal the candy. They just flat out take the entire basket, or they sign up with no intention of ever joining your masterpiece of a club and take your candy. It's depressing. Therefore, I never bring candy to my club's table. No, we've done just fine getting people through yelling, reason, and setting up next to a table with candy so people have to listen to us while waiting in line for some food.

But this year is my senior year. This year, everything I do has to be incredibly spectacular and cool. That's just how it works.

So, while brainstorming ideas, here comes the revolutionary idea of... THE GORILLA SUIT. Last Halloween my brother invested in a rockin' gorilla suit, and so the idea to come to the activities fair dressed as a gorilla began to overwhelm every other smidgen of intelligence in my brain. It had to be done.

My friend and I planned it all out. We asked the activities fair coordinator to make sure the security guards wouldn't tackle us to the ground, and we figured out how we'd make a grand entrance and everything. It was going to be awesome. Kids in my school just can't resist people being anonymous and random. They just can't.

But anyway, all this preparation and excitement buildup was for nothing. I can't find the damn gorilla suit, and my brother won't help me. It's not where he said it was, or anywhere else for that matter. I have seriously thrown things out of every closet and drawer of my house looking... and it's insanely depressing. The fair is on Thursday and Friday, so I'm going to keep looking until then. I'll make sure to let all of you know how that goes... but I wouldn't get my hopes up.

It's making me go bananas.
No regret for horrible puns.

You're Not My Mother!

So, I'm not sure why... but while I was brainstorming blogging topics a certain memory popped into my head. Despite how stupid it is and how little of it I actually remember, I can't seem to shake the idea. Clearly my muse is telling me that I have to write about it anyway.

This story took place when I was really little, probably around five or six years old. Now let me tell you, I was a pretty adorable five year old. My hair was always in pigtails and for some reason my mom liked to dress me in every floral pattern she could find.

Cue the AWWWWs.

Anyway, so off goes five-year old me to the movies with my parents and siblings. It was probably to see something incredibly spectacular and awesome, like Thomas the Train Saves the Rainforest, or Rugrats in Paris. I don't exactly remember the movie, but I remember after the movie, when we were all heading back to the car. 

I was walking behind the cluster of my family unit, looking at the gum on the sidewalk and wondering how long it had taken to morph into the ground. Suddenly I looked up and realized that I had been slowing down, taking particularly long to observe one hardened sample. Now, my mom has insanely curly hair, so whenever I looked for her in a crowd that's what I kept my eyes peeled for. 

In this instance, I saw my mom's black curly hair rounding a corner, so I picked up the pace and followed the woman, eager to catch up. For a solid ten minutes I followed her, the fact that the rest of my family was not around her not quite reaching my naive little brain. 

The moment that really stands out in my memory is the instant when I realized that the woman was not my mother. I had been walking quite closely behind her, and wanted to ask where the car was.

"Mommy." I asked, but she didn't turn around. A bit annoyed that she was so blatantly ignoring me, I reached out to grab her hand. "Mommy!" 

She turned around as my hand reached forward, and I froze, hand still in the air. 

I remember feeling pissed off more than anything at that moment. Who the hell was this woman, pretending to be my mom? She had no right making her hair curly... or black. I just wanted to shout, YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER, kick her in the shin, and run away. The woman gave me a weird look, and scanned the parking lot for my actual mother. Luckily they really weren't that far away, because ten minutes of walking in my mind was actually about thirty seconds. 

I turned my head and saw my parents, who hadn't realized that I had followed the wrong person. The woman didn't say anything as I ran to my mom and got in the car, extremely frazzled and off balance. I didn't like the fact that somebody could impersonate my mother so easily. What if somebody else out there looked like me, and my parents picked her up and took her home instead because they didn't know which one of us was their actual child? 

Every kid wants to feel unique, so I guess the memory has stayed with me all these years because it was my first large kick of reality. Sure, everyone was different, but in the end you could be replaced... just like that. I could have followed that woman all the way to her house if I hadn't realized that it was somebody else. Of course, now I'm a bit wiser than my five-year-old self, although not by much, and I know that you can't really replace people, and identities can't be stolen just by copying someone's hair style. To actually steal an identity, you'd need some connections in the government or awesome hacking skill. 

I Am a Hunchback Mountain Troll

Well... I could start off this post by apologizing for my blogging hiatus... but I won't. Honestly this past week I've just felt like a giant hunchback mountain troll with overgrown fingernails, and writing a blog was not the first thing on my mind. We had our second week of school, which technically was only three days. It was supposed to be four, but apparently it rained too hard on Thursday and we had a... a rain day. Definitely a first.

I found it was almost scary how quickly I went from re-adjusting to my school schedule to gluing myself to the couch just because we had an extra day off. Even now, on Saturday night, I feel completely out of whack. Has school actually begun? Don't I have college essays to write? Isn't there something on t.v. now? Or food to eat? Is this really what my life has come to? Harvesting oreos, goldfish, and K-bars in my room and lying down for hours at a time, fully conscious but without any motivation to stand up?

If I actually were a mountain troll I would be more productive than I am now. I would be climbing intense cliffs to find sustenance, and sewing my own loincloths, and making my own bear carpets. Or mountain goat carpets... because I'm not sure what kind of bear lives in the mountains. If I were a mountain troll I would get fresh air and less headaches and I wouldn't have to cut my goddamn toenails.

HSH: Home Sweet Home

I'll come up with something better to write next time, I promise. I've been writing ideas down and such, but I just wanted to get a post out here to hopefully get myself back into the flow of things before I forget.

In all honesty I blame the looming terror of allergy season. Already it has begun to affect me in the mornings, making my nose run and glow like the flickering brake lights of my car. Allergies suck. Even when I don't feel like sleeping, my eyes start to feel extremely heavy, like nothing would make me happier than to seal them shut with super glue. But it's always when I have things to do... which is all the time.

Gah. I'm going to stop typing now. I've no doubt disappointed many of you, and for that, I fiddle with the edges of my loincloth in shame.

JRose photo hunt!!!

Hey everyone! So one of my favorite blogs, "I'd like cheese on my entire family!" posted a photo hunt, and I became inspired to take some magical photos. Unfortunately I'm a very lazy person and did not complete the list, but I shall continue adding photos I get onto this post until I have completed it... eventually. To prove that I took these photos and didn't just get them online, I used a bag of goldfish as my mascot. LESDOTHIS.

Here's the list:

1. A cat in a window

No cats were harmed in the taking of this picture. Maybe confused... but not harmed.

2. Bare feet in grass

My feet look kind of gross here... but I hope this proves that I'm actually a living human being with feet.

3. Bacon


4. A squeaker


5. 3 people holding cards

This one was just plain fun to set up. Unfortunately it proves that I have no friends. 

6. Cheese on an entire family


7. Someone wearing a hat

Do not pass GO! Do not collect 200 dollars! -Ace Ventura 

8. A bird, not in a tree

I'M A BIRD, I'M A BIRD, I'M A BIRD. -Hyperbole and a Half

9. The color red, only the color red

Guess what is is. 

10. You holding a sign referring to Da Cheeseblarg


11. The cutest chocolate you can find

This is what I discover when scavenging in the basement. 

12. Velcro


13. An upside down book

Percy Jackson!!!! Who knew goldfish could read upside down?

14. Something I write about all the time but have not put in the list

Harry Potter, Harry Potter, OH. Harry Potter, Harry potter, YEAH. 

15. Ice cream

These are actually scented bubbles... SO TAKE THAT.

16. A chance

This made me think of ABBA. "If you change your mind... I'm the first in line..."

17. Something nerdy

Yes, I made my own Snorlax beanbag chair. You've got nothing.

18. A yellow flower

Goldfish camouflage.

19. A crack in a sidewalk

I bet you weren't expecting that one.

20. The inside of a grocery store


21. A person wearing a barrette

So for some reason I read this as "baret," and I like my picture too much to change it. 

22. A scavenger

Oh God I feel racist... or something. I blame lack of creativity.

The rest shall come eventually. I promise. Maybe.

Applying to College

Sigh.

It's come to the time when I have nothing on my plate other than a steamy helping of college applications with a savory side of school work. Yum.

In case you haven't gone through this process yet, it's pretty damn annoying. Mostly it's a lot of decision making that could potentially decide my future, and oodles of trying to make myself sound good without sounding like a completely obnoxious idiot with a big ego. GAH. Truthfully I'm sick of writing essays about myself.

I know, it's a bit odd to be complaining about writing about myself when I keep a blog... which is pretty much nothing but writing about myself... but this is different. These essays have to be better. They have to be everything that I am but more. They have to stand out among thousands of others while still seeming modest. THEY HAVE TO BE MADE OF MAGICAL FAIRY DUST AND SPRINKLES AND UNICORN FUR AND KEEBLER ELVES. I just don't have the patience for hunting down Keebler elves. I really don't.

I wish I could write something beautiful. Something that will make whoever is reading it just stop, and go... wow. I want them to share it with everyone around them, and then call me up and be like, WE ACCEPT YOU FOR YOUR AWESOMENESS COME JOIN US NOW WITHOUT WORRYING ABOUT GETTING IN ANYWHERE EVER.

That would be ideal.

Unfortunately, whenever I try and think of something to write about, I get flooded with indecision and self-doubt about two seconds into writing it. Then I completely toss the idea and retreat into my corner of unhappiness and internet. Sometimes I think of something awesome, but then I realize I wouldn't actually want anybody to read it except for the admissions person. Of course my mom would want to read it first... and my teacher... and I really just don't feel comfortable with it if it's too personal. It's a balance I just can't seem to create.

Well, I'm off to go work some more. Thank you, blog, for helping me procrastinate.