La di da.

I've reached an all-time low!


And I'm happy.



What am I doing? This is going to ruin my life, and I know it will, because I've researched it. You know why I've researched it? Because I've contemplated it. A lot.
Today's count:
1 lp
1 smnc
1 t
1 p

Let me know if you can figure that out. Ha, I think I made it pretty obvious.

I haven't blogged in a while. Isn't this how I start a lot of my posts? Maybe it is because just recently (aka like today) I obtained The Sims 2 Apartment Life. Excitement, much. Also, I've been obsessing over LOST. Oh, LOST, how I love thou. Plus Merry from Lord of the Rings plays a heroin addict in it! Who wouldn't want to see that?! Now if only Pippin could star in an award-winning show. Then everybody would be even, except Sam, but Sam is a character that will never die. Okay, enough nerdspeak, (I lied) 12 chapters of Midnight Sun leaked out onto the internet, and you know me, I'm all over that!
On a different note, nobody is allowed to spend any money on me. Don't even think about it. I don't want your moneeeey! Please.

Hmm. This is a really cute song, maybe it's fate that I found it. I'm thinking of casting a spell! Mhm, a spell. I have a book of spells... I'm not one to believe that it will work, but it would be fun to try anyways. "I'm not alright when you go, please be all mine. I never want you to go, because I am all yours, please be all mine."

Six words.

Hemingway's six word novel:
Baby shoes for sale: never used.

I will always cry
when I think of how much courage I don't have.



tear-stained cheeks; I think I'm starting a trend.
I'M GOING TO BE SICK.



Lalala. Inspirational!

My Vacation:

I learned a great many things.

I missed Syrena. I missed Nikki. I missed Catherine. I missed Aleesa. I missed Sean. I missed Alfonso. I missed Jonathan. I missed my bed. I asked my mom if said missing was weird (because I missed you guys a lot) and she said that it was. So now I'm weirdly missing you guys. Just so you know.

I learned from my extremely insecure aunt that I am probably a person who does not need to be stick thin to be happy, but it will probably be untrue next week. I still cling to the hallucination that being thin would fix my problems, even though it wouldn't.

I also learned from my extremely insecure aunt that people are going to think you're ugly, people are going to think you're pretty, and people are going to think you're cute. Wait for the one who thinks you're beautiful. :)

I wrote. I haven't written in a very long time, and I wrote. I wrote about a girl who (very oddly) resembles me. A girl who will probably go through the same troubles as me. If I ever finish, I'll show somebody. I really hope you guys missed me too.

I am currently extremely happy to be back in my house, back to being able to walk around said house in a sports bra, (when nobody is home, of course) and back to being able to blast my very screamo hard rock blast your ears out music very loudly.

Oh yes, and wish Nikki a happy birthday! Her and her brother are turning 13 and 15. :D

AHHHHHHhkfdsjl

So much has happened!! We had a surprise for my Grandmother (on my mom's side), I saw my sister, I went to NYC, visited dad's friends Paul and Tammy, and am now back at the lake house. Oh, and my dad's parents are going into assisted living. I went to the MET, aka Metropolitan Museum of Art, and took loads of picture. My sister is a security guard in Omaha, so she got all pissed that I was taking pictures, but I did anyways >:) I ate super-expensive New York food, walked down a New York street in the rain, almost got ran over, took a taxi by myself to Soho, went shopping in a NYC American Apparel (but didn't get anything :( ) and went to a mall called Woodbury Commons, which is advertised for in Tokyo. I bought over $200 worth in bras, underwear, t-shirts, jeans, and shorts at said mall. I had a 15 dollar croisant sandwhich in Manhattan, and shared a bed with my sister which was terrible because she takes up the whole goddamn thing. I found out that book by James Frey called A Million Little Pieces is fabricated, saw James Frey get spanked (like serious pull-down-your-pants-red-butt spanked) on Oprah, bought Nikki a gift for her birthday, decided I'm applying for Keuka Lake College, and wore slippers in an expensive restaurant. I got a viracose vein on my leg from walking so much, got purple socks (and purple shirts, and purple pants, and purple bras but never mind that) sorry for all you male readers (ha, like one or two) for the talk about bras, but while we're on the subject, I'm a C! A FUCKING C. I'm huge. It's annoying. Anyyyyyways. I want to listen to Bushisms (gosh they're hilarious) but Phil is like a huge conservative Republican and stuff so he'd get all pissed. Oh, and I let the American Flag touch the ground. Ha. Eggplant Parmesan is ready, so I have to eat, because it's like invading my nostrils and I am adddddicted. Kthxbai.

Adults are so dumb.

They all overreact about everything. I let an 8 year old boy play a game on my dad's work computer, the same game I had been playing (hey, I was bored) and they all freak out. I doubt he would have messed the computer up. What are they afraid of? That he's going to find a secret self-destruct button on it? I mean, jeez, I know it's my dad's computer and he's letting me use it and it's not "mine to give away" (though I was hardly giving it away, I felt bad for the poor boy, the adults are boring) but still, he was playing some motocross game. A damn game. Grandma comes over and is like "Oh no no no what have you done? We can't have this! No no no!" I mean, seriously how retarded. I told her it was the exact same game I was playing, I was watching him to see if anything popped up, and my dad wasn't doing anything work-related on it anyways. How annoying. My dad and his mom are so alike, they're hard to live with. Jeez, I'm for sure going to hell for this, but my grandmother annoys the HELL out of me.

I am convinced that I have compulsive overeating disorder.



I would like to adress this issue, but onion spicy pickles are just WAY TOO GOOD!
My mouth burns now.

Today I went tubing! And, I drove by a cemetery. Both very inspirational experiences. I'll start with the cemetery.
When I think of death, I think of going to sleep. Of slipping into a slumber of unawareness and never waking up. But then I think of dreams, and if you dream when you are dead? But I know you don't, because your brain is turned off. But if all life is is a preparation for death, which it is if you think about it, what is so special about death? Is it really just unawareness? Sometimes I like to believe in reincarnation, that when I die I'll wake up being born. That I'll be somebody else, get to experience life again. But then, is there somebody inside of me? Do I have repressed memories of a past life? I don't know how I'd react to that... Hopeful maybe. But is there an afterlife? I tend to think not, but wouldn't it be nice? A heaven for people who deserve it, a hell for those less fortunate. Or.. were heaven and hell just ways to get the village people to work back in the day? Just a way to work them to death, willingly. The kings used to tell the workers that if they die on the job, they'd go to heaven and have a paradise of their own. But they just have to die first, and the only good way to die is by working on that wonderful statue of me, but don't make that darn nose too big. You know what I mean? I don't know what to believe.
Next, tubing.
Ah, water. Pure, yielding, water. How I adore thee. Wait, adore thou? I don't know, but sitting in the tube-y thing is like flying. You go up up up then you crash and the water is in your face and it's like everything you've ever done in your life doesn't matter because you are in the tube and you have to hold on because if you don't, you fall into the fast-moving rapids and get left behind to drown. Or get eaten by fish (shut up). Nothing matters in the water. Everything is gone and it's just you and you are. Maybe I am going insane.

Pittsford, New York

That is my current location. Actually, no, Penn Yan, New York is my current location. The party for Phil's 80th birthday just ended, even though his actual birthday isn't until September. I really can't type at all, it's pathetic. I am determined to meet someone here, preferably of the male species. Also, preferably, someone cute? I just want something to make this trip memorable. I don't need to meet anyone to remember it, of course, but it would be nice. I'm in New York, after all. The lake (we're at Phil's lake house, in Penn Yan) is absolutely beautiful. Actually, it's just a lake. It's not that spectacular. It was overcast today, and pretty cold. I have to sleep in a loft, which I have to climb up a ladder to get to. It's terrible.. I don't like heights. I spent most of my afternoon with my Aunt Jasmine, because we are so alike. I'm well over a foot taller than my Gramma, which is... funny. They are all cleaning up after Phil's birthday thing, you'd be surprised at the mess a bunch of martini-drinking old people can make. I should probably help, but no one has bothered me yet. I hear Phil's daughter absolutely hates Gramma. No clue why. They won't tell me what she did, but my mom secretly told me that she accused Phil of "marrying a midget for sex". God she's so psycho. I don't want anyone to know I know that. They went out of their way to make sure I didn't know... But I think I'm old enough to handle someone saying that, but Gramma wouldn't want to expose me to anything too vulgar. Of course not. We're talking about eating dinner on the boat on Tuesday. I'm writing again! I started on the plane. I'm really determined to go somewhere with this story, even though I doubt it will make sense. I mean, it will make sense, but I'm terrible at piecing things together. Nothing ever makes sense.
I was thinking today in the car about myself. The drive to Penn Yan is beautiful. It's al cornfields and grass and small towns and farmhouses. I imagine myself there. I can imagine myself there. I want to live somewhere small. New York City will always be my favorite place in the world, but I'll never afford to live there. My parents just left for some walk along the lakeside. People will start to realize that I'm not talking, just "hacking away at the keyboard as my dad says. Hacking? No clue where that came from, as I'm not hacking or anything of the sort. I like the sound of my fingers on the keyboard. It's so soothing. Tick tock tick tock. The only sound in the room in the clock. Phil is a quiet man. Jasmine is so much like me. I can't even explain why, she just is. It's uncanny. Normal conversation is so annoying. I want to be old, and retire in a lake house, and know everyone on my street and be able to laugh about the "good ole days". I want smile lines and crinkly skin, gray hair too. To sit, and smile without reason. Being old is such an excuse for acting senile for no reason. I'll do that too.
I don't think I will ever be able to look in the mirror without beating myself up. It's not like I'm going to go off on a tangent, whining about myself is so annoying when I read it later. I just don't think I will. My gramma fell earlier today, on her hip. We're supposed to go swimming in the lake tomorrow, because it will be warm. Supposedly.
I finished Breaking Dawn last night, and was dissapointed. That's all I have to say for now, Gramma wants me. Goodnight, everyone.