So, I'm doing my annual birthday post an hour early because I got to go to bed soon. Lame to go to bed this early, I know, but it's the only way I'll be awake for work tomorrow. Work on my birthday??? I know: LAMER, but I don't work very often. That's ok; it's all good. I'm really giggly and excited about starting my last year as a teenager, nonetheless. As a matter of fact, I'm so excited about my birthday that I might as well be turning 9 instead of 19, but, people, IT'S MAH BIRTHDAY! The only thing redeeming me from my childishness is the fact that I have work tomorrow.
So, I'm just going to go out to dinner with my family. It's the best I can do with one of my best friends in another state and the other ditching me for tye-dye. I am however dragging her (not the one in Michigan, I have neither the strength nor endurance to drag her all the way to Chicago) to the mall with me next Saturday. Despite everything, I still gotta have my annual near-birthday August shopping spree. It goes along with the September poorness that follows.
The true stories of a girl who became obsessed with them.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Purdy
I have never been much of an artist, but this summer seemed like a good time to improve that side of me. You know to make up for all the microscopes and dead fetal pigs. I have to say, I had pretty good luck with my nails for the 4th of July:
So I was excited when my sister wanted us to use the tye-dye kit she got for her birthday. Well, I don't know how the shirts will turn out, but I my knee is very colorful.
And my since my artistic skillz are where I get my sense of fashion, I know that this will look great with the dress I thought I would wear on my birthday. Needless to say, I don't think I will be joining my lab partner, Sonya, in art school.
And my since my artistic skillz are where I get my sense of fashion, I know that this will look great with the dress I thought I would wear on my birthday. Needless to say, I don't think I will be joining my lab partner, Sonya, in art school.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
What George Owell didn't count on
I think most people who have read 1984 would agree that there's some reality to that today. Already stores, banks, random people who call your house, and the government track all kind of information on people. And there are things like the Patriot Act. My parents talked to someone a few months ago who swears his phone calls are being listened in on.
The thing is though, that the government doesn't need to watch us on telescreens. If you want to know what is going on with somebody check their Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, or blog. Don't get me wrong, I love these things, but with a snap of your fingers or a Google search their posted information is at your disposal (I just searched my home phone number and my address came up).
We are giving our lives away. Nothing is private anymore. If you go out in public a lot, think about all the times you've been record on security cameras. My high school put cameras in front of the bathroom doors. That's fucked up. So between this and all the internet stuff, we are about one Ministry of Love away from a 2010 1984, but this one is, ironically, by the people.
The thing is though, that the government doesn't need to watch us on telescreens. If you want to know what is going on with somebody check their Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, or blog. Don't get me wrong, I love these things, but with a snap of your fingers or a Google search their posted information is at your disposal (I just searched my home phone number and my address came up).
We are giving our lives away. Nothing is private anymore. If you go out in public a lot, think about all the times you've been record on security cameras. My high school put cameras in front of the bathroom doors. That's fucked up. So between this and all the internet stuff, we are about one Ministry of Love away from a 2010 1984, but this one is, ironically, by the people.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Secret agent piggy
When my first guinea pig, Leroy, was young we had ugly carpet in the living and dinning rooms of my house and he was allowed to run around because my mom didn't care if something happened to that carpet. So, Leroy would run around the dinning room. He would start at the end the the table and zig-zag his way through the legs of the chairs as fast as he could, going in a circle and when he reached the end he would stop, and jump up and turn around at the same time, and go back the way he came. I was impressed by this. He never once ran into a leg.
Eventually, he needed more of a challenge. He had a mission. Get from the dinning room to under the couch without getting caught. He would run around the dinning room for a little while, then at some point run to behind a nearby armchair. The chair that was in that location at the time had a flaps on the bottom. Leroy used this as a cover. He didn't know we could see his feet. Then, when he thought the coast was clear, he would make a mad dash across the empty space of the living room and go under the couch. We hated when he went under the couch because it was hard to get him out. I think he knew that.
One day, when I thought a little change would be good, I took him to the downstairs region of my house for him to run around. I thought it was a nice little arrangement because whenever I hadn't seen him for a while I would call, "Leroy! Where are you?" and he would either run over, or squeal so I knew he was ok. At one point though, I was calling his name and was getting no response. I starting looking for him, but didn't see him anywhere. I went upstairs, I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was to ask my siblings if they had seen him or if it was my gut feeling coupled with the fact that I had seen Leroy eyeing the stairs earlier. Sure enough, there he was upstairs, under the couch. Leroy had taught himself how to go up stairs- no easy task for someone of his size.
When we were at the pet store one day, we had had Leroy for about 8 months, my mom and my sister saw a cute little guinea pig and persuaded my dad to let us get him. He became my sister's guinea pig and we named him Harry. We put him in a separate cage from Leroy because of the age difference and the fact that they were males (males fight). From this point on, Leroy's mission changed. His new goal- get into my sister's room to see Harry.
This became particularly amusing when the ugly carpet finally was removed and replaced by rugs. Now when Leroy was running around my room he would get to the door, then pace. He didn't like the wood. He had to build up his courage every time he faced the wood floor. He would pace around then eventually dash across it as fast as he could, as if it were a pool of piranhas he had to leap across.
Eventually, he needed more of a challenge. He had a mission. Get from the dinning room to under the couch without getting caught. He would run around the dinning room for a little while, then at some point run to behind a nearby armchair. The chair that was in that location at the time had a flaps on the bottom. Leroy used this as a cover. He didn't know we could see his feet. Then, when he thought the coast was clear, he would make a mad dash across the empty space of the living room and go under the couch. We hated when he went under the couch because it was hard to get him out. I think he knew that.
One day, when I thought a little change would be good, I took him to the downstairs region of my house for him to run around. I thought it was a nice little arrangement because whenever I hadn't seen him for a while I would call, "Leroy! Where are you?" and he would either run over, or squeal so I knew he was ok. At one point though, I was calling his name and was getting no response. I starting looking for him, but didn't see him anywhere. I went upstairs, I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was to ask my siblings if they had seen him or if it was my gut feeling coupled with the fact that I had seen Leroy eyeing the stairs earlier. Sure enough, there he was upstairs, under the couch. Leroy had taught himself how to go up stairs- no easy task for someone of his size.
When we were at the pet store one day, we had had Leroy for about 8 months, my mom and my sister saw a cute little guinea pig and persuaded my dad to let us get him. He became my sister's guinea pig and we named him Harry. We put him in a separate cage from Leroy because of the age difference and the fact that they were males (males fight). From this point on, Leroy's mission changed. His new goal- get into my sister's room to see Harry.
This became particularly amusing when the ugly carpet finally was removed and replaced by rugs. Now when Leroy was running around my room he would get to the door, then pace. He didn't like the wood. He had to build up his courage every time he faced the wood floor. He would pace around then eventually dash across it as fast as he could, as if it were a pool of piranhas he had to leap across.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Drop on the deck and flop like a fish
I used to wonder how SpongeBob could not pass the boating test after all that time. If everyone else could do it, surely he could too? But now I have had my learners permit for three years, and I no longer wonder. I also have decided to use this realization of mine and SpongeBob's similar experiences to make myself seem cooler. Sure, you got your drivers license when you were 16, but I'm like the guy who lives in a pineapple, and who everybody loves. And I know I haven't been going at it for quite as long as he has, but I crashed into my brother's car the other day while pulling out of the driveway, so we'll see. You know, when I drive and my mom gets all mad and upset, she kind of puffs up too.
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