Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed (Awesome).

today's my birthday! i did not receive a car, or a cell phone, or any other silly, cliche gifts like that... but i did get a whole lot of money for the band trip to florida, and that's pretty awesome. i won't be swimming or riding on roller coasters or any of that crazy shit, but it will be fun. i'm saving up my own money now. all $584 has been paid toward the trip, and i've been saving up so that maybe i've got somewhere around three-hundred dollars of spending money. i'm going to buy the biggest, cuddliest, and most expensive donald duck that Disneyworld(land?) has to offer. i also have to buy a swirly lollipop the size of my head, even though i don't like lollipops much and it will just rot my teeth and make my tongue bleed profusely.
my friends and family had planned on having a surprise party for me, on account of the fact that i refused to have one. mom called up bethany yesterday, bethany called ashley, and then - get this - right in the middle of the radio show, the one thing that i do during the week, ashley called evan. i was immediately suspicious; why would ashley be calling evan? they're not really close friends or anything... i mean, i don't even call evan. so when he left the room after announcing that it was ashley, i was preeetty sure that something awful was goin' down. and then evan didn't even look at me for the rest of the time the show was going on! i had three possible explanations: ashley had said something to evan that made him uncomfortable around me (pssh, we're already extremely awkward around each other, but that doesn't stop us), he was pissed off about my frantic questioning (i'm not certain if he has ever been angry with me), or there was a surprise party being planned. the moment the show was over, i ran out of the doors and walked home as quickly as possible to call ashley. well, i didn't get her, i got her mom, and i told her mom about the suspicious call, and then my mother walked into the room and said, "do you want to know?" so i hung up and stared at her while she explained to me that there would be a large crowd of people over the next night because she knows me and didn't believe my half-hearted responses to "are you having a party this year?" so, even though i had had a million good reasons to not have a party, i started a furious cleaning session. i spent maybe three and a half hours cleaning this house, and i'm sure nobody even noticed. i mean, i came upstairs in the middle of the night to go pee, noticed that the bathroom was not spotless, got on my hands and knees and scrubbed that bathroom like the queen of england was coming down for a visit. bah.
anyway, my party was really fun, for the most part. it ended very crappily, but what else is new? bethany, ashley, galen, evan, shelbie, olivia, and rachel came over (kahlise showed up after nearly everyone had left), we drew mustaches on ourselves (it's tradition at this point, geez), and proceeded to play super smash bros. melee for four hours or something. my white chocolate raspberry cake (from yummy's!) said, "Sweet 16 & Never Been Kissed" and had little swirly mustaches on it. it was everything i wanted, and more! freakin' mustaches, man. awesome. i got plenty of money (from grandparents), a huge bottle of bubble soap (evan), a stuffed puppy and blanket (shelbie), a plastic cell phone filled with candy (kahlise), a delightful candle (kahlise), five burned CD's (galen and bethany), a sketch pad (galen), charcoal pencils (galen), and a giant hershey's kiss (galen). i think that's it... nobody got me anything embarrassing this year.
actually, i guess my party was pretty uneventful. we all just hung around, played video games, and prodded each other in all the wrong (or right!) places. i guess everyone assumed that i would be a sexual deviant now that i've achieved the age of sixteen without being kissed... even my four-year-old brother was getting impatient and saying, "sissy, have your kiss!" rachel really seemed to want to see some action, because she kept telling evan to kiss me. i don't remember why, but at one point i must have said something about galen and rachel went, "awww, i was kind of rooting for evan." i would find it very entertaining if people started making bets on them, but i'm sure they wouldn't appreciate that quite as much as i would. so, i ask you (in discretion), blog-viewers: who will win the dani (or at least kiss her before the other does): galen, or evan? teehee.
i was honestly freaking out about this whole thing yesterday. i was all, "sixteen is half way to thirty two and thirty two is half way to sixty four and sixty four is half way to one-hundred and twenty-eight and i'll be dead by then," and i was worried that everyone would have a terrible time at my party and some major drama would go down, or that everyone would be so distracted that they would let my baby brother roam the house alone and he would drown in the toilet or something... i was afraid that i would neglect all of my friends to the point where they would just up and leave because i'm such a horrible friend and i'm the most self-centered girl there is, and just because it's my birthday doesn't mean i can be a bitch. i thought about how you're expected to get your license when you turn sixteen, and when you have your license you're expected to get a job and then you're expected to go off to college, get a career, settle down, get married, have kids, lead the perfect, immobile, mundane life. the older you get, the more responsible you're expected to be. maybe i don't want to grow up yet! maybe i missed out on all the fun of childhood when i was on antidepressants. i'm only kidding, geez! i missed out on my childhood because i wanted to mope around the whole time and didn't realize how absolutely beautiful and wonderful everything is (can you hear the contempt?) until just this year. i want to start over, learn all the things i should have learned before now... but i don't regret anything. i am who i am because of all that moping, in all honesty. i'm cynical and just oozing with contempt, but i love that about myself. i could do without all my moodiness, but whatcha gonna do? i'm a teenage girl, c'mon! i'm expected to be a little miss moody broody, all the time! i think i'm pretty great. i get upset constantly, yeah, but it's not like i'm ever like, "god, i suck so much, why do i suck, i'm going to slit my wrists now." that's how i used to be, silly. when i wanted all the negative attention. i was so hardcore. i acknowledge that i have a few kinks in my personality that need worked out, but whatever, y'know? we've all got our problems, and if people are really going to dislike me because i over analyze certain things and whine a whole lot, too bad for them. that's not my problem, is it? just because we can't be friends doesn't mean we have to be enemies, so it really doesn't affect me much.
y'know, when it comes right down to it, my sixteenth birthday doesn't change anything. if i hadn't've acknowledged it, i still would have been sixteen. no matter what, i will age, and one day i will die. also, just because i've reached my "sixteen and never been kissed" goal doesn't mean that i suddenly have the courage to just grab one of those cute little hipster boys and start snogging them. i don't suddenly have the knowledge of how to go about doing that, i'm not suddenly uber horny. i'm just the same as i was yesterday, and i will be the same tomorrow. i wish i had more courage, i really do, because sometimes i just think it would be much easier if the boys would stop being so awkward and i'm sure snogging them would shut them up just fine. i'm not going to make the first move on anybody, and i'm not just going to sit back and agree to let someone kiss me. i can want it when the guy's not offering, but when he is, every fiber of my being screams in terror and frustration and my muscles tense and jerk my away from old so-and-so and make everything suck for the both of us.
i'm really glad that i am able to talk to my parents. my party ended on a slightly morbid note, so when mom asked how the party was, i told her it was great, except for... and told her all about it. it's not like that one little thing ruined my whole day, oh no! my day was excellent. i knew i was being silly, i just needed mom to tell me just how i was being silly and over analyzing stupid things. she's constantly telling me things about me that i already know, but knowing that someone else notices just makes it a little bit more real. she tells me that i always think that all my guy friends have this huge list of girls they would like to date and i am at the very bottom. i know that i think that, and i'm still pretty sure that it's true, but it's silly of me to feel that way. i mean, if he's interested, he's interested, right? just because he likes a couple of other girls doesn't mean that he likes me any less than them. right? i always assume that i'm the "back-up plan" for guys to fall back on when they get turned down by some unattainable girl, but that's ridiculous. i am one of the unattainable girls. i'm always, "oh, man, i really like him," and then when they show any sort of interest i start freaking out about it and then i think that i've chased him away, and even though i'm almost certain that i haven't been, maybe i've been wrong and i rarely chase anybody away for good, and maybe if i took them more seriously and knew that they actually were still interested, things would be fine. but instead, when a guy shows interest in dating me, i'm all, "oh, ha-ha, that's funny, you're making fun of me for being obsessed, aren't you?" and i always turn them down as if they're playing some awful prank on me. but yeah, that's the sort of start thinking about after i have a nice chat with my mother.
my birthday was really great, it was. i am very lucky to have such faithful friends (even though they only love me for my gamecube and luscious breats), and i actually am pretty grateful that my friends and family put together that party for me, even though i figured it out pretty quickly. i felt really guilty about not being a moron and missing all the signs, but the party was still fun. thank you all for everything; i love you! except for you. i fuggin' hate you. :3

Pops Concert's Done!

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES. OH GOD, YES.

on another note: nooooo...!

I Hope You Have a TERRIBLE FUCKING DAY.

happy valentine's day, everyone! i'm working on getting into my bitterest of moods for my bitter party. don't worry: all my bitterness is completely sarcastic. so... i'm just sitting at home, waiting for ashley to get her ass over here, and if we want to invite more bitter people who refuse to date, we will. i'm going to practice bitterness now.
bah, valentine's day! who would waste twenty dollars on a stuffed gorilla holding a heart? and, pfft, like anyone would want a stuffed gorilla, anyway! i mean, they're only absolutely adorable and soft and cuddly. pfft, i don't need it. i don't even need someone to want to get me a stuffed gorilla. men are chauvinist pigs! to give a girl a valentine is to beg for sex. men have ulterior motives for every kind gesture! "here, let me open the door for you!" really means "PLEASE LET ME FUCK YOU." "you have such a pretty smile" means "i've been staring at your mouth and i want to stick my tongue down your throat." y'know, if someone showed up on my porch with roses or chocolates (INTENTIONS OF SEXING ME), i might just hit them over the head with the lamp by the door and stomp on their groin when they fall over in pain. and then, as they're puking from the gut-twisting pain, i'll grab a piece of wood from the piles on the porch and whack 'em in the head again. by this point they'll be out cold, so i'll drag 'em inside, strap 'em down, and castrate the bastard. he will scream in pain, beg for forgiveness, beg to keep his balls, but it will be too late. and then, because i am not a surgeon, they will die from blood loss. oh, well!
it's sickening to hear all these gooey stories about how "oooh, my boyfriend just got me a diamond necklace! we're so much in love, we're going to get married, nurr." and then there are the people like me, who really would like something but would rather act all bitter about it. however, i'm being bitter for fun. i believe that there has got to be at least one terribly negative bitch on valentine's day, and i don't know who else will do it! but i really am one of those mopey girls who sit around the house daydreaming about opening the door to find a boy holding just the right valentine's gift, smiling shyly with a twinkle in his eye, ready to grab you and kiss you deeply, totally unlike him and totally awesome. but of course there's that other part of me that is all, "EW BOYS ARE GRODY, HE HAS ULTERIOR MOTIVES; HE WANTS TO RAPE YOU ON YOUR OWN PORCH," and that's the main part of me, the part i rely on for every day decisions. "oh, great conscience, should i invite over so-and-so?" "NO, CHILD. HE WILL RAPE YOU, YOU WILL GET PREGNANT, AND YOU WILL DIE DURING CHILDBIRTH." "oh, conscience, should i say something romantic?" "NO, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SAY SOMETHING HORRIBLY CYNICAL AND THROW HIM OFF. HE CAN'T RAPE YOU IF YOU CONFUSE HIS PENIS." things like that.
so, yeah! i like the idea of romanticism, but it terrifies me. i love me some cute guys, but they're awful, chauvinist pigs who will rape me at any given moment.

Don't Take Me Too Seriously.

i've spent the night, and am still spending the night, keeping an eye on my kid brothers, jace (who is four) and teague (one). it wasn't so bad. sure, i nearly puked when i had to change a diaper, but when do i not nearly puke? i mean, even when i'm just sitting in class, i constantly get stomach aches. they're mostly from nerves, so i don't think i could actually be sick from it, but i always want to ask the teacher if i can be excused so that i may go be sick, or i just sit there, planning my escape route for when i begin to hurl. anyway, we're talking about babysitting my kid brothers. i had fun. i spent the first hour or two watching a movie with them and then we had a DANCE PARTY!! at first, i was just singing "there's a hole in the bottom of the sea" or whatever, but of course i started jumping around like a maniac, so teague wanted up. i swept him up and jumped around with him, singing all the while, and then i turned on pandora.com and proceeded to dance. i spun in circles, i turned teague upside down, we danced. it kind of sucked because jace wanted me to dance around like that with him, but he's getting too big, and i can't hold him and teague at the same time. i tried my best to alternate between the two of them, but like i said, jace is too big and i got worn out after a while. i crashed on the couch and jace immediately started jumping all over me and whacking me with anything he could get his hands on. oh, and he seems to really like stomping all over the painful spots on every human being. dad's always crying out in pain as jace steps on his crotch, and i don't appreciate it much when he decides to jump on my chest. ow.
i had a great time, really. i imagined what it would be like if they were my kids, and... i decided... that it wouldn't be so bad to have kids. gasp! really, dani! you've never wanted kids! ever since you were a little girl, you said you wouldn't have kids! but, then again, i also said i wouldn't get married and i'm sure i don't still believe that (yes i do). but really, if i could just hang out with my kids all the time, it wouldn't be so bad. i guess it's the growing up part that's hard on a parent. teague is a sweetie, and jace is just a little bit misguided, but he's still awesome. sadly, they will soon be in school, where they will be corrupted by terrible kids raised by terrible adults who live in terrible homes and smoke weeeeeed for dinner or something. they'll get a negative outlook on life, they'll learn to hate their family, and they'll probably get some girl pregnant eventually. augh, teenagers! who knows teenagers better than a teenager, right? i know what we're like. it's terrible, really. we're so impressionable, so terribly desperate to be accepted by worthless people who are trying just as hard to be liked. we lose our identities, lose our minds. every little thing is full of implications of horror and drama with irreversible consequences. we take out our frustration on our poor parents, who don't know where their babies went. what happened? parents pray for their atheist daughter, their satanic son, what happened, what happened? where did we go wrong? help us, God, help us, we can't do this alone.
geez, i always change my mind when i write blog posts. i got into this thinking, "gee, it would be cool to be a single mother, if i could bring in enough dough," because single parents are always really close to their kids, and kids with one parent are kind of soft, troubled beings that need all the love you can give them, and oh, i've got a lot of love. it's easy to imagine coming home to this gangly kid who has been waiting for me, sitting on the couch and slinging an arm over them to watch afternoon cartoons. who needs a man? i would just get jealous when they spent time with our baby. all it would take is a little trip: "dad took me fishing!" and i would go off on some rant about how i could have done that, i'm better at fishing anyway, i wanted to teach you, your father is stealing you away from me, you love him more, yada yada. but of course i would end up messing up the kid in some way. he got too much attention from his mother, doesn't need a woman, turns gay, mother doesn't like that, gets angry, abandons son. or i would have the kid and give him up right when he was born. the hours of excruciating pain of childbirth would help me to decide that it's really not worth it, that i can't handle it, anyway. i especially wouldn't be able to handle the first few years alone. waking up at all hours of the night to stumble over to baby Cain's cradle, change diapers, fill bottles, freakin' breastfeed! my boobs would get all saggy, augh! i would be some terrible, ugly woman with bags under her eyes and a baby attached to her tit at all hours of the day, like in the grocery store and just about anywhere. do you see how i change my mind in these posts?! i realize things that i don't consider in actual, plain old thought. how would i be a stupid whoreslutskanktrollopbitchtease if i was hideous? and why would my baby ever accept love from an ugly troll woman? he would be embarrassed by me by the time he was five.
anyway, yeah. babysitting jace and teague was fun.

Responsible Party Time!

it seems that dear old dani is a caterpillar: she's got the potential to be a social butterfly. yesterday was just such a nice day that i just had to invite a few people over (without parental consent), even though it was only monday. i started out hanging with only ashley and olivia, but soon enough a whole crapload of people - invited or otherwise - showed up. galen, evan, auriel, rachel, and marina all stuffed themselves around the television, where galen had assumed control over my worthless gamecube (i kicked his ass at least two out of three rounds on super smash brothers melee). sure, to some of you party people, seven guests isn't really much. but to me, the nervous girl who worries that she is neglecting certain guests, and that not a single person is entertained, it was a lot of people. especially since i had to keep them all contained in one room. oh, well. that one room is all spiffed up for tomorrow, for i have invited galen, evan, and auriel over again. auriel wanted to learn to play super smash without the boys, but, uh, i have a soft spot for the both of them, and i would love to have them over, regardless of how much pwnage they may dish out. i believe that i can kick both of their asses, and i live to kick boys' asses in video games. teehee.
sure, monday was fantastic weather-wise, but today was fucking spectacumazing or something silly like that. ashley, kahlise, and i threw ourselves out of the school into the sun, where i kicked off my shoes and uncomfortable, fuzzy socks and threw my jacket on the ground. even after my friends had left, i just relaxed in the sun, as comfortable as i could be, and then i walked home barefoot, which i have been yearning to do for so long now. during the summer, i didn't go a day with shoes on. shoes are like mini prisons for your feet - i'm sure i've told you before. i love my feet. they're not pretty, not in the least, but they get me around and they deserve the best. they're scarred and callused, my nail polish is chipped and ugly, but i love my feet.
and get this: today i went to my first ever high school band lesson. i was failing the class, so i was all "ack" and then kahlise was all, "you're going," so i went. it was a playing test for American Visions, and i got a ninety-two percent, which isn't bad, considering the fact that i've never been to a lesson and my saxophone was broken from during football season all the way up to last week or something. so, when i didn't have a working instrument, i couldn't work on articulation or proper breathing technique or anything. my ninety-two percent is pretty good. next week is The Beatles: Love playing test, and i will be ready to rock.
more surprising news: i brought homework to do, and i cleaned frantically when i got home. i already told you that the room where my friends and i will be chillin' is all spiffed up, and it's all my doing. and after i cleaned that filthy room, i cleaned my filthy fish tank. oh, yeah: Dictator Cadaverous and General Libido are still alive and kickin'. every morning, i roll over, expecting them to be belly-up, and every morning, i am surprised into blissfulness. i'm hoping the little buggers will be able to be my guests of honor at my birthday party; my birthday is on the nineteenth. meh... they'll probably die of shock, since i cleaned their home. i probably knocked their heads on the glass when i dumped them back into the tank or something terrible. they'll probably be dead tomorrow.
i also tried teaching my kid brother to play super smash, but he's only four and he started bawling because he couldn't get the pokeball. i'm pretty sure he started having a panic attack. i stayed as patient as i could, but it's really hard to be understanding when someone is bawling over a video game, especially when they're upset about not being able to do something irrelevant to the game's purpose. i kept telling him, "jace, the point of the game is to kill me, not to get pokeballs," but he just didn't get it. and then teague, my one-year-old baby brother, came in, rested his hand on my knee and pointed to jace's controller. "no," i told him, "you are waaay too little. you can't." so he hit me and left the room.
well, it's 9:50... i had better go do homework. ...god, that's weird, but i need to learn to even out work and play. right now i'm all play and no work, and i figure that's bad somehow, so i had better get my shit together! easier said than done, i know, but at least i'm trying for today.

My Hollow, Plastic Boyfriend.

today, while all my theatrical buddies were off in Pella for state, i hung out with terinel. i wasn't sure if i would have enough to talk about, but all it ever takes is a cup of coffee or two and i loosen up plenty. we got a ride to the square, where we were immediately assaulted by a group of little kids. what the fuck! how does a kid even become a jackass so quickly? they were swearing and calling us the N-word, and they started throwing hunks of ice and even a frozen half of a candy bar they found on the ground. thank god their aim was terrible. god, why would any kid just decide to be terrible to a complete stranger? if their home life is terrible or something, wouldn't they want to make as many friends as possible? throwing shit doesn't get you any friends. god, i don't even know. man, i didn't even start to swear until i was in eighth grade, if you can believe it. these kids were maybe around ten or eleven, and they were just spitting swear words all over the place! i mean, i know i swear a ton, but it's never intelligent. i'm not trying to impress anyone, and these kids so obviously are. i don't get it.
so terinel and i left the little bastards on the square and headed to the coffee house, where i bought a raspberry croissant and she bought some powdered sugar cookie thing. we sat on the couch for a while, discussing religion and homeless people and god only knows what else. i decided that if reincarnation is real, i will definitely be a tortoise in my next life. oh, the irony (i hate turtles and tortoises, but tortoises are cooler than turtles). after loitering for a decent sum of time, we headed out. teri was a bit disoriented and had no idea which direction My Lucky Day was, but i got us there. i promptly put on a snazzy hat (with a feather on it, ooh), and we started digging through fifty cent cassette tapes. i bought two: Chopin and Beethoven, and i got a free troll. man, i've been getting free trolls from My Lucky Day since i was a little kid, but this may have been one of the best. he had hot pink hair and a tuxedo. freakin' rad. who needs a prom date when you've got a dressed-up troll? i'll spend prom night with him. that's a promise (sniffle). in fact, i've got him all cleaned up and everything. for the sake of auld lang sine, i washed his hair and clothes, just like the multitudes of trolls before him. and i'm going to spray him with my favorite cologne, so he'll be delicious smelling. he'll be the best prom date evar. i've got marti gras beads, too, because the theme of prom this year is marti gras. and i've got decorations from last year's prom, so i've pretty much got it down. when prom rolls around, i'm going to get all gussied up, slip into the sexiest dress i have, and dance around my room with this troll.
no, i am not pathetic, no, i am not lonely, and no, i have not lost my mind.

I Don't See The Art in This Walk...

art walk, art walk! i'm sure i've told you before, but i'll remind you non-existent newcomers: in my little town of floaters, there is an art walk every first friday of every month. this month, my friend terinel was supposed to come down from iowa city to see galen, evan, and me. well, not just us, but she would have hung out with us. if she had shown up. turns out that her mom got sick and she stayed, but she'll be here tomorrow. unfortunately, galen and evan have state (speech team). i don't know when they get home, but it's probably waaaaaay late, even though they leave home at freakin' five forty-five in the morning. i really want to go with them, but i couldn't find an important person to grovel to. mr. hucke told me before that i wouldn't ever be able to ride in the bus with my buddies since i wasn't in speech team, so i know he would have said no to my request this time. but it would have been worth a shot! i'm going to be sooo looonelyyy while they're gone. nah, i'll be fine. bethany recommended Eragon, so i'm going to sit back and try to stomach it. meh, i'm sure i'll enjoy it, if i allow myself to.
anyway, i had a grand time at the art walk. i hung out with galen, evan, and auriel, three of my favorite lovers. they're the three people in this world that i am not afraid to lean on, or to put my head in their laps. i don't get to hang out with them much; just at galen and evan's radio show (wednesday, 4-5, 100.1 FM, KRUULP). that's one hour a week that i get to spend with them, and i normally just lie back and try to sleep on the couch. it was nice to hang out with them at the art walk tonight. auriel and i shared some lovely ... i guess it's frozen coconut milk... i cuddled up with evan plenty, and galen and i actually had a serious conversation for once. AND, AND! the weather was perfect. i didn't even need my coat, some of the time. this whole day has been warm and content. however, i know that this great weather is just a bad omen: global warming is going to kill us all! oh, well. i'll enjoy the nice weather while it lasts, y'know? it will only get hotter and hotter and hotter. better enjoy the impeccable bits!
i would write more, but i'm going cross-eyed because of the computer screen (that i have only been looking at for a little while) and because of my extreme desire to sleep. i really wish i could go with you, speech team-ians. break your legs [and necks], lovelies! I ADMIRE YOU. g'night.

I Adore You, Blue Lava Lamp.

man, if i could stay up for all hours of the night, it would be so wonderful. maybe i would get so bored that i would have no choice but to do my homework. maybe being an insomniac would give me some extra hours to get motivated and get stuff done. all that extra time would also force me to actually think. i try to distract myself from thinking about important things, like college and career choices and the possibility of settling down one day. i guess i'm counting on my charm and wit to get me out of those situations somehow. i know i've got to get my shit together and start doing well in school so i can get into a good college and get a good job and live a good life, but knowing you have to do something and actually doing it are two entirely different things. eh, i guess it doesn't really matter, anyway. it's not like i'm failing or anything.
on an entirely different note: i can see why my friend evan is so tired all of the time. he wakes up at the crack of dawn to do some stupid-ass extracurricular activity, he sticks around after school to do more stupid-ass extracurricular activities, and to top it all off, he has been listening to a lot of Mogwai, which is some indie instrumental band. i've been listening to Mogwai radio on pandora tonight, and it's so mellow and relaxing that i kind of want to go to sleep and maybe wake up in some serene, silent place where i can proceed to go back to sleep in the soft grass. i'm enjoying it. i'll probably definitely use Mogwai as a sleep aid tonight (if my homeless older brother doesn't show up and take the laptop from me), so maybe i'll sleep tight and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.
i kind of don't know what i'm doing right now. with anything, i mean. i'm just floating along, observing the speech team, which is all stressed out about state, which is this saturday. it seems a bit silly, really. everyone's so determined to get me to join speech team, but watching them just makes me want to stay away. they all hate each other at this point, because they want their groups to be perfect, and if anyone's flawed in any way, their team gets all pissed off and snaps at them. bethany never liked her musical theatre group much, and we could tell, on stage. i don't think the audience (the audience that knew the actors and actresses, anyway) would be surprised if someone wigged out and punched a co-star in the face. and it's all about blaming others at this point! everyone's all, "oh, so-and-so doesn't even care about this group," "so-and-so is ruining this whole act," whatever. i'm not pointing fingers at individuals, because it seems as if the majority of people in speech team are doing it. i'm not irritated by it, i guess, because i understand that they're all really stressed, and when it's all over, they'll be good friends again. but i don't want to be that chick that gets blamed for the lameness of a team, you know? the newbie who hasn't had a voice lesson or acting lesson in her life, the insecure spaz who freaks out when asked to do anything at all. i would blame me, sure! it would probably definitely be my fault if the group i was in sucked majorly. oh, well. i guess i'm expected to be that chick next year, because i signed a contract.
i don't know what i'm supposed to be doing. am i supposed to be in a cutesy little relationship right about now, making cutesy little plans for prom, buying a cutesy little WAY TOO EXPENSIVE dress? am i supposed to be looking forward to valentine's day? i mean, i've no reason to. i, um, disposed of my one main suitor, and though i may have a couple of others, i don't expect anything from them. they're a couple of my better friends, and i don't think they would try and be all mushy with me. am i supposed to be looking forward to my "sweet sixteenth"? it's on the nineteenth. seven forty-five A.M., to be exact. sixteen, man! i should be getting my license, driving out to pick up my friends and have a grand ole' time, but i've only driven twice, so obviously i haven't taken driver's ed. eh, driving isn't really something i want to do. it would be fun to be able to go anywhere i wanted at any time, but i would get creepy or something. i would probably drive to peoples' houses and leave things on their doorsteps. i'm sure i would get my revenge on bethany for giving me a can of (whisper) peas for my fourteenth birthday... anyway, what's so "sweet" about being sixteen? it's half way to thirty-two, which is half way to sixty-four! sixty-four is old! i don't want to be old. old people are gross. ack! at this pace, i'll have a mid-life crisis by the time i'm twenty.
what's so freakin' exciting about prom, anyway? i swear, if i hear one more word about that silliness in my history class, i will turn around and punch the speakers in their perfect, smiling mouths. i guess prom is alright this year, because it's at the new civic center, and the theme is marti gras. but still. what is prom for? do the girls imagine that they're Cinderella, that they're beautiful for the night but after they've changed out of their dress and face paint, they'll just be their regular old selves again? ugh, i can hardly stand looking at some of the makeup that chicks wear to prom. it's funny when their face is a completely different color than the rest of them because of their foundation. and i don't know, i think my eyelashes would fall off if i coated them with so much fugging mascara. what ever happened to natural beauty, anyway? i don't think i look bad when i have no makeup on... i kind of think i look like a trollop when i've got blush, mascara, and lip junk on. i can handle a little mascara every now and again, and a little bit of lip junk. but i cannot stand blush. i mean, i blush enough as it is, naturally. and if i was really that worried about looking drained, i could pinch my cheeks every now and again or go outside in the cold for a bit. that'll turn your face red, no problem.
what's so romantic about prom? tuxedos are sexy, sure, depending on the man that's in 'em, and how comfortable he is with being so formal. i don't know, i think most of the people at prom just look awkward. no one is dressed according to who they are as a person or anything. men just shove themselves into identical tuxes and chicks try to outdo each other with insanely poofy dresses. everyone seems so uncomfortable, so out of their element. i don't know.
yeah, my homeless brother wants the laptop. i guess i don't get Mogwai tonight. thanks, homeless brother.

I Am The Most Spectacular Fish Owner Around, Obviously.

THEY'RE ALIVE, THEY'RE ALIVE, THEY'RE ALIVE! FUCK YES.

bethany is a fish murderer.
but i, i am the fish MASTER.
take that, fishy death! i spit in your face!

(maybe i gave my misfortune with fish to bethany somehow.)