I've been doing some match making. My roommate told me she thought the German guy was cute (I'm not sure what his name is. I don't know). Anyway, the three of us have class together and I struck up a conversation together as a group and quietly exited to use the bathroom (a blatant lie since I hate public restrooms) and when I got back they were still making pleasant, if not deep conversation. If it is love that is meant to be, they will work it out for themselves. All I can do is stir up conversations and let them figure out if their a match. WHICH REMINDS ME. He mentioned my entrance at orientation. I don't know why this is a consistent trend, but EVERYONE at school talks to me about it. Apparently I made quite a first impression. Falling does wonders for your reputation.
In other news I don't know if you've ever gotten into A Day At A Time (I've finished it and I love it), but there's this boy at school who looks like Josh (the one that takes the daughter to her quincenera) and I was so excited (excited is the wrong word more like "oh cool it's josh" but I don't know how to describe that). I was like it's Josh??? The captain of the baseball team. I was convinced I knew him in real life and it wasn't until I finished my next class that I realized there was no way it could be Josh. Since, he's not real. I just thought it was funny how convinced I was that this fictional character was part of my daily life. I'm not even in high school???? What convinced me this was him?????
My credit card also came in, just in case you were worried. I've been destitute for two weeks. But no more!!! Now I will own it all!!! Nutella!!! Ben & Jerry's!!! Plums!!! Burberry jeans!!! I will limit myself no more!
We stopped by the Planned Parenthood booth and stocked up on my condom lollipops. If you ever go to a Pride there's always a million booths. You've got churches telling you it's okay to be gay, but my mother has cited Timothy 1:9 and 1:10 enough for me to know that's not how they really feel. Then, you always have the overpriced street vendors, because it's really fucking hot.
The cute flirting is less cute. He goes on to correct himself to say that I look like a “$1,000”. I tell him, “I'm worth more then that.” I'm imaging that's the moment he decided not to ask for my number.
When she said that she was doing a meet and greet, this bitch had to be apart of it. I bought a physical copy of her EP Bombastic (a Friday Favorites on the EP is coming in two days). I stood in line. I was shaking. I had time to make a great first impression.
I made a pleasant if unmemorable impression on her. Which, I regret. Did I ask her the hard hitting questions. When is the album coming it? Have you heard Katy Perry's new record? No, I didn't. I have a feeling that Bonnie and Katy hang out at Katy's mansion and drink martinis and talk shit about boys when their both not on tour. But, what do I say. “I've been obsessed with you, since you released that song “American Girl”. Why am I like this God.
One good thing that's happened to me is that I found a pair of shorts that make it look like my inverse concave ass has a shape. Taylor Swift Booty 2.0. It's sexy as hell. Tight and fitted. Some have called me a slut and their not wrong. My mother called them “tailored”. That was kind of her.
Unfortunately, I didn't lose three pounds like my icon Regina George. Granted she never did either. I mention her, because I'm a super cool person with fun things to do, and I went to a Mean Girls trivia.
One of his friends was gorgeous in a geek boy kind of way. He had a perfect moon face and virgin skin. Miss Sara Bellum's type. I told her I would ask for his number for her. She told me that wasn't necessary. As if either of us are getting any younger.
By Monday, my celebrity high was over. And, I went to see a movie with my mother. It was called Love & Friendship. We both loved it. After all what's not to love about a Jane Austen remake. I am Lady Susan after all.
There's a song by Marina and the Diamonds called “How To Be A Heartbreaker”. The goal of this post is not as ambitious as that song, nor does it feature a slew of shirtless men (although it should). Instead it's a bitter diatribe of a college student writing after midnight.
I was just trying to sleep, unable to focus on anything appropriate and I was just thinking about how you should be treated.
2. Never date someone who is significantly older then you when your older. I think it's one of the worst ways to set yourself up for emotional manipulation.
3. Lastly do not spend time with people who do not make time for you or/and invalidate how you feel.
For someone who is not in a relationship, I've been dealing with a lot of emotional pain, and it's been stressing me the fuck out. Their problems are my problems.
There's only one couple I spend time with and their doing well. I think. They make me want to believe that love is possible and you just have to find the right person. A tall beautiful intelligent girl or a short dumb stumpy boy. Whoever she or he may be. They are out there. Just waiting for someone to write poetry about.
One couple I'm close to both told me their problems and they spent the better part of two weeks crying and not talking to one another. At one point they settled on being “just friends”, but they'd fucked each other one too many times to do that.
Their also planning on moving in together. I told them I thought that was fantastic, because I'm full of shit. I'm disenfranchised with their love. They almost ended it in December. March. And, who knows maybe they'll end up together and become happily divorced.
All I know is that as far as I'm concerned is that their love is dead. And, no matter how “mature” a high schooler may be, you should never date one if your in college. There will always be that power dynamic and it's not healthy and it's not appropriate. And, someone will abuse it even if that was never their intention.
Liebster Award Guidelines:
3. Who is/are your style icon(s)?
Princess Diana. She was always very sophisticated and put together. I even liked it when she dressed matronly. It might not reflect in how I present myself, but she always there. I'm more hopelessly devoted to that Shannen Doherty/Alicia Silverstone look. I love tweed and shoulder pads.
4. Which decade is your favorite? If possible, would you go back in time and live through it as you are now?
My favorite decade is the seventies. I've always loved the chill vibes of the music and of course disco. I could have lived through Olivia Newton John's heyday and seen Charlies Angels live on TV, but no part of me would actually want to go back and grow up through it.
7. What was your last birthday like? Did you get presents? Did you do anything to celebrate?
This is going to sound horrible, but my last birthday I spent the day at home, alone. My grandmother passed away a few days before, so my parents went to her funeral. I didn't get any presents and I didn't go out and celebrate, but it was honestly one of my favorite birthdays. It was very relaxed and peaceful
10. Have you ever been fired from a job? If so, why?
I haven't been fired from a job... yet.
11. What was the last blog post that made you smile and why?
It would have to be one of Nick Tredrea's. He hasn't been posting for a while, but he's always wild. His blog is so much fun, I can't wait for him to return.
10. I am a nineteen year old middle class American and I still don't have a cellphone and my family didn't get internet until a month before I started college.
11. I have very few talents, but I happen to be quite adept at balancing trays on my head.
This has been so much fun! Thanks to Cherie Cheezcake for being the best and nominating me for this!
It was almost 11 weeks that our friendship had gone unsustained over the summer when she finally said that we should go to church. That is our aesthetic. We go to church. I hadn't been to church in so long that I was practically an atheist.
We caught up on everything. How me and this nice Christian girl bonded over glass dildos. As Sacajawea said “why does she have to be Christian?”
Sacajawea was also glad that I dressed “normally”. I had considered throwing on my jersey with the number 69 emblazoned on it, but I decided in my final moments not to. Recently, someone said to me that they dress in a way “that respects their school.” It was very clear that the implication was that I'm the whore of Babylon who doesn't respect anything.
I suppose she wasn't wrong.
In other news Sacajawea and I have rekindled our friendship. We'll finally be the good Christian's we were meant to be.
This morning I was getting dressed for the day and I couldn't figure out why I have four more outfits for the next two days. I also have five pairs of shoes for a four day trip, but not even that merciless shower head could beat the answer into me.
In other news I sleep deprived myself just enough that I wasn't kept up by the air conditioning unit. Ready for today.
We gave up and settled on our next stop. The Outlet Mall. We got there at 9:30. It didn't open until 10:00. Our options were clear. Find somewhere else to spend our time. Google did not fail us this time. We settled on a coffee shop in St. Charles. It had Picasso in the title. It seemed quaint. I was the only one who got coffee. It was called Black Forrest and was supposed to taste of cherry's. It served it's purpose about as well as Boomer likes modern art (he's not a fan).
We actually bought something. Usually boutique shopping involves a lot of browsing. We did that. But, this store was within three college students price ranges. The twins bought two hand towels. One for their mother and the other for their brother's fiancee. Miss Sara Bellum splurged and bought a good luck token for her dorm room.
A gallery was opened down the street. The artwork was reasonably priced if you weren't in a dorm room with cinder block walls. There was shoe shop named Gene's that catered to visiting Floridians. Bars and restaurants dotted the street. A club was in one of the buildings. If only we were twenty one.
I never would have thought to stop in St. Charles. Or even thought of it as a destination choice, but it's something I wish I'd been able to see more of. It was picturesque. You could spend a solid day exploring it or trying to get off the roundabout. Which, ever came first.
We were not as successful clothes wise as we might have hoped. We found one thing at Burlington Coat Factory. A pair of shorts for the sexy Sara Bellum. Rainbow was useless. Surprisingly it was Charlotte Russe that we did well. I got two scarves for two dollars each. I couldn't help myself. The twins tried on clothes. Bought clothes. So many I can't remember. Most of my time was spent trying on Boho hats and twerking to Britney Spear's “Pretty Girls” with what little ass I have.
Buy "Pretty Girls"
In a true spot of sophistication. We got takeout from Panda Express and ate our food in the sculpture park under the shade of a beautiful trade. I was in my four inch wedges and I had little idea that the pathways were gravel and so much was off road. The map I have spread out makes little more sense now then it did at the park. We planned on walking one of the three trails. Either the ten minute Whitaker Woods Trail or the twenty five minute Central Pathway. We did a little of all trails and marveled at all the work.
There was a dog house nicer then my room. Portraits by Maude Earl. A British painter famous for her work on dogs. The most reading intensive part of the exhibit revolved around service dogs. It's hard not to be amazed at how capable these animals are.
It had portraits by Liat Yossifor that dealt with the aesthetic of cave painting and the intuitive act of finger painting. Her works were mostly solid white with different textures and only limited use of primary color. One of the works on display was entitled Yellow II.
They were also doing an entire demonstration called the Sanatorium. We were only able to participate in one of the parts available. It was interactive and was supposed to gauge ways to help people achieve group therapy. We wrote down our darkest secrets tied it up with twine and read one of the previous respondents answer.
Mine discussed how lonely they felt even among people they were close to. The curator explained that was normal. It's disturbing how commonplace such an emotion can be.
The other two artists on display were Richard Tuttle and Fred Sandback. I would argue that there were works were minimalist. I would even argue that art might be a strong word for what they were doing.
God, I sound just like Boomer.
Last night at America's Best Value Inn.
My ear buds and I are listening to The 1975. The album not their new song “Medicine”. Found out that Miss Sara Bellum doesn't like them. Like truly doesn't like them. Strongly hates. It surprised me.
Our dinner consisted of going out scandalously clad. I was scantily covered. The Mayor didn't change. Miss Sara Bellum did. She informed me I looked like a cute lesbian from behind. I asked her if she would date me and she told there couldn't be two lipsticks in the relationship.
We had planned on going to Bailey's Chocolate Bar for dessert. We couldn't find it. @ Google get your life. Instead we drove around downtown St. Louis. This was our first time downtown. We'd avoided it the entire trip just to find out that it's mainly banks and Hard Rock Cafe with an expensive mall. We almost ran over the same man twice, while he was trying to cross the street. There comes a point when it's not all my fault.
In a spat of going hard or going home without google we ended up on the freeway. Picture Dionne in Clueless. That was me.
Our night ended with an intense game of Parcheesi. Nothing like a dice version of Sorry to make you want to punch a best friend in the face. At some point we reverted back to Zero. A trivia based question game that was less competitive with us playing. “Name one of the six states in Australia”. Answer that none of us know this answer.
That's Americans for you.
My music has switched to Lana Del Rey and 11:57 AM seems a good time to end today. Wrapped up in a heather pink infinity loop scarf...
Driving for multiple hours on end has not left me exhausted. Currently I have two infinity loop scarfs wrapped around my throat and I'm trying not fall asleep. Our trip has finally come to a close.
We got dressed in our floral attire. We packed up and cleaned up. We were ready to check out of our hotel. We did that and we made our way to the St. Louis Botanical Gardens. They were amazing.
His bachelor home was amazing. Goals stamped on a house. It turned out he was a writer. For a moment we thought we'd heard of him. We mistakenly mixed his last name with that of British playwright George Bernard Shaw. Similiar but not close.
The most fascinating thing about Henry Shaw was that the died a bachelor. He never married. He never had children. What an interesting thing for a wealthy bachelor. It makes one wonder what he did with his spare time.
Multiple signs informed us that we were not allowed to wade in the lake. I wanted to ask who would do that. Then, I realized if there was a sign that meant someone had done it. Much like the “don't feed the red fox” sign. There must be a story behind that.
This church had me reconsidering my stance on the justice of the peace. I wanted to walk down the aisle with 2,500 of my closest friends while the organ plays and Andre Boccelli sings to me in Italian. I'm afraid I was scantily clad for such a religious place.
There happened to be a tour going on. It was fascinating. The man was much older. He was probably more then disturbed by me. I thought he was funny. He gave quite an enjoyable tour. He pointed out so much of the religious imagery I never would have caught. How the three domes represented the son, the ghost, and the holy spirit. More amazingly how there wasn't a single drop of paint in the church.
We drove in silence. We listened to Katy Perry's One of the Boys. Only the fourth time I've listend to that album all the way through. I forgot how offensive “I Kissed A Girl” and “Your So Gay” are. They may have shock value, but she comes across as a terrible person.
The trip was a success. Our friendship is intact. And, sitting here typing this at 10:55 pm is a far improvement over being at work. The only thing I missed was the dog and he's right here.
I'm packed. I'm showered. My hair has been done up and I would even argue that I'm well rested. In twenty minutes I'm about to leave to pick up the twins and we're going to start our road trip. God help us all.
I found the exhibit to be fascinating. I can't deny that I'm actually obsessed with his love affair with wife Julia (Julie?). It was certainly more entertaining then I expected.
In other news. We checked into our hotel to find out that protests are taking place Downtown.
Our trip marked the one year anniversary of the slaying of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri. The day before our arrival police officers put eighteen year old Tyrone Harris into critical condition after they exchanged gun fire with one another. The day we arrived friendly protestors were arrested outside of the federal courthouse in St. Louis. Later 30 protestors stopped traffic on I-70. Ferguson was everywhere. Our plans were just not feasible.
In true upper middle class fashion we escaped to a suburban retreat and obliviously drank our blackberry caramel frappuccino's while Natalia Kill's crooned over the loudspeaker at the Coffee Cartel that never closes.
My favorite store was 10Denza. I loved practically everything in it. Even the eight hundred dollar leather jacket. As the clerk mentioned we were lucky as they were having a sale. A cute patterned cobalt sweater I would spend thirty on was marked down to sixty. Down from a 108. The entire store was full of cute gay boy chic and enhanced feminine style. I loved it. My bank account not so much. The twins obnoxious friend would have loved it. I'm convinced he had floral patterned polo shirt in that exact shade of coral.
Our dinner was spent at the Kingside Diner. A glamorous and hip reasonably priced getaway across the street from a Guiness Record holding chess piece. It was the largest in the world.
We took an hour break from human interaction with another. Followed it up with a bag of Cheez-It's two rounds of Zero. Miss Sara Bellum won the first round, me the second. Then, we played Blokus and I won. Fumbling through Tinder we casually had Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen on. I realized I was Lindsay Lohan and the twins were her best friend. Miss Sara Bellum flirted with a boy with tattoos. He was a mix between Pearl and Violet Chachki and he had a certain porn star quality about him.
That's what love is built on.
I've been asleep for less then three hours and I've never been more awake in my life. I'm now locked in the bathroom updating my social media. From what I can tell the twins aren't sleeping that much better either.
I have taken the twins virginity.
After breakfast we drove up to Six Flags over St. Louis, which isn't even in the same county. It was a pleasant drive. The line to get in was extensive. It's the last week of school before the native St. Louis children are going back to school. It was a joy.
Miss Sara Bellum's favorite ride was what I will describe as the scrambler. It was frequented by six years old. The three of us barely fit into one car and the ride operator serenaded us with “Let It Go”. It was magical.
As a group we only participated in one more ride. The water themed rapids Thunder River. The twins took part in the carousel. I took part in two more roller coasters. The Mine Train and The Boss. I never did get to go upside down.
Most of our day was spent in the water park. Disappointingly enough there was not a single attractive male. There was one exception of the Under Armour hugging twenty year old. He was gorgeous, although it's always so hard to tell when people have on sunglasses. Gorgeous women abounded. Even without our glasses on we could tell.
We realized very quickly that the three of us would have to deal with the potential loss of our glasses. The only tension we had was when we were deciding where to go, but couldn't see anything. We went down slides. Almost drowned in the artificial tidal waves one of the beach areas produced. It was anything if boring.
Six Flags doesn't disappoint. I hate to admit that there was a special place in my heart for the Lazy River. I could have spent all day there. Just not eight dollars for a tube rental. It was a little steep.
The ride was terrifying. I can't tell you what it was, but I was horribly sad. Our day at Six Flags was over. It was almost as if I was emotionally drained. It was as if Summer was over. The drive back to our hotel was difficult. I've never felt so incomplete. We had on Lana Del Rey. That certainly didn't help anything. I don't know it might be that I haven't cried recently, but I was overwhelmed. I'm still frustratingly saddened.
Miss Sara Bellum ordered a steak frites (delicious), The Mayor got a strawberry Nutella crepe (essentially a bottle of Nutella with carbs), and I got a Veggie Burger. There was ginger root on it. The ranch I dipped my french fries was homemade. God is real and he lives at Rooster.
The follow up and conclusion will be posted next Wednesday.
His brother is just a lot of something. I don't mind working with him, but he's got too much going on. Rumor has it that he dated one of my male coworkers who looks like a cross between neo-nazi and a naked mole rat. Now, I might have started that. At this point I'm really not sure. But, his girlfriend does not like the neo-nazi and his brother told me that some personal things happened between them that he doesn't like him. Now, I'm not saying that means anything. BUT.
Both of this boys respective ex boyfriend and current girlfriend are weird as fuck. I don't like either of them. They make my skin crawl. The funny thing about his girlfriend is how unbridled my aggression is towards her. It's not even shade anymore. It's you literally suck at your job and you are pathetic. She comes into work late and she can't even pay her rent. Her hours got cut recently and I laughed. On the floor, fucking died. Am I terrible person, yes. Do I care? No, because I don't like her.
I talked about this a few months ago during the 12 Days of Bubbles, but one of my now delinquent coworkers had a sex tape. She was fingering herself and everyone at work saw it. Everyone at her school saw it. It was a mess.
My favorite coworker has literally had sex in the back. I'm like oh my god. She's dating this dorky cute guy now and she leaves me early to go spend time with him. I don't know why she doesn't want to be at work. I am more fun then any flaccid dick she is getting with this man. But, I'm not salty about it.
I'm a little salty about it.
Two girls I work with are having intense boy problems. They're both dealing with multiple boys liking them and being jealous and calling them bitches. And, I'm just like this is why you don't date guys with big trucks. I hate their friends and if I'd met them at school I would not have been a fan. But, I love them to death and I want to know why there only ever seems to be one shitty boy in my life. I would enjoy being in a triangle or a trapezoid as some of you are.
At the end of the day my coworkers and I are family. I fucking hate them sometimes, but we still spend time together. And, a little part of me would miss them if they got fired.
Melodrama puncutated with exclamation points.