I feel like I can say "hello world" now, since half the continent shall soon start following this blog! Which frankly, ladies, freaks me out more than anything else. But y'all know me. I'm Anxiety Girl: able to leap to the worst conclusions in a single bound!
This is actually the first post of mine where I have absolutely no idea what to write about. So, I shall try to inspire myself. I'm wearing my favorite sweater (the reindeer one you're all secretly jealous of [especially Mercy]), drinking a cup of coffee, and listening to Rend Collective Experiment. Let the creative juices flow.
(20 minutes later): still faced with the unconquerable monolith of Writer's Block.
(15 minutes later): Maybe it's not that I can't think of a thing to write. Maybe I have something on my mind, and I'm afraid to bring it up because a) I hate ranting, and b) I'm terrified of revealing my real feelings to even my closest friends. There. I said it.
Okay. here goes nothing. I ask that everyone reading this prepare themselves for a lot of nonsensical words, loosely strung together to depict my thoughts:
The truth is I roll my eyes too much. Whenever someone says "YOLO" and waxes long on how high school, like the glorious Internet, is forever- or worse, 5ever. My pupils retreat back into my sockets when Mr. Popular starts complaining about The Nerd as soon as he leaves the conversation, words like sewage sludge coughing out of his mouth. My first thoughts are "ugh, kill me" when girls take rumors-turned-drama way too seriously. Or when they ask you about how your night out was, just because the guy they have a crush on and are probably going to marry was there. And then, they get mad because you didn't ask "*girlish sigh* him" about his every thought, just in case he was thinking about her. Am I being condescending and arrogant? Yes.I think I am entitled to be like this after taking everyone's First World problems without being able to speak up about my own insecurities (and, yes, First World problems. I have those too, and I am not ashamed to admit it).
You all know who I'm talking about. We make fun of these people, girls, but should we not feel sorry for them? They care more about being popular and pretty and thin, than being clever and noticing all the pretty things in life that aren't looking out at them through the mirror. It's not like we're any better than them, though. We are just as bad in different ways.
Anyhow, since my spiritual gift appears to be coming up with clever comebacks and never saying them to the face of my adversary, here I go:
No,I don't care that your parents are horrible monsters from the pit of Hades because they have the audacity to expect at least a B- on your report card. Heaven forbid they want you to get into a decent college so you can have a career (read: be out of their hair so they can retire early).
Yes, I do think "suck it up and deal with it" is the proper way of dealing with any physical injury you have that does not require a visit to the ER.
I don't know what you see in him. He looks like Steve Rogers before the Captain America transformation.
I'm really not sorry that you didn't have anyone to be entertained by on Saturday night. You could have asked me to hang out with you, but we don't belong to the same social standing you have constructed in your tiny brain.
Tights are not pants.
It's not me, it's you.
I'd really rather not sit here and listen to you read your text conversation with "*girlish sigh* him" out loud. That does not mean I want to read it myself. Please, here's your phone back, let's talk about the weather.
Why does everyone like you except for me? Is there something wrong with me, or them? Frankly, I find you annoying, and I think I'm allowed to think like that because I'm pretty sure you think I'm annoying, too.
*End rant.*
Okay, hopefully I offended no one in this post. I am so blessed by The Foursome, and our followers, and if you don't know me very well, you probably have written me off as a cold-hearted witch after reading this. To tell you the truth, I can be very cold-hearted and witchy. I can also care way too much about being pretty, thin, and popular. But isn't almost everyone like that? And don't we all have warm and huggable good qualities deep down- even those of us who complain about their parents and wear tights as pants and think too much about "*girlish sigh* him?" And in the same way that a sarcastic, myopic girl like myself can also be intelligent and sensitive, so can my vapid peers be kind and caring people.
I complain too much- about my hometown, my church, and my friends. But I know that this time next year, when I am in a new and different place, that I will come to miss it all. As for the here and now, I will laugh- at my crazy friends, at how seriously we seem to take this humdrum life, and at myself.
Well, since Rose has read this post and deemed it "not too ranty," I am going to post this, and end with some pretty little things I found in my archive on Tumblr (which I did not make. I am not that talented):
--Laura :)
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