One of Those Nearly Perfect Days


Today was perfect. Or at least close.

Don’t get me wrong…the guy of my dreams didn’t pledge his love to me, I didn’t win the lottery, I didn’t meet the cast of my Harry Potter. But it was still a pretty great day.

When I walked out first thing in the morning, I was physically shocked with the warmth. Picture 4The sky was a vibrant shade of deep blue, even with the clouds, and the trees were silhouetted just so. It was otherworldly. I felt like I had fallen asleep and had been transported to a dream, and I had a strange euphoria that comes along with the feeling of being in a dream (unless I’m the only one who gets that).

All morning felt sort of surreal, and I think it was from the weather. I kept glancing out the windows and wishing I was outside with the blue sky and the black trees and the cloudy quilt. The thought of the warmth of nature through my jacket and against my skin made me feel like where I was inside was a prison complex.

And then, when I was nearing the end of my time locked up, it began to rain outside. It didn’t start with a drizzle or a quiet roll, it was spontaneous with thunder and lightning and water. But, instead of being deathly afraid, as I usually would be, I wanted to go and run around like an idiot in the pouring rain. Maybe it had something to do with Spanish class. Don’t most things?

The wet sidewalks (wet, not damp) didn’t bother me, and, in fact, they only added to the experience of the day. I can’t be totally sure why, but the puddles were okay. Even though I was wearing suede boots.

The only things that could have made this day better were listed above. But for a Tuesday, it really was almost perfect.

Ciao for now,

Mikki

the roller rink: A Poem


i’m going rollerskating today.
i’m going with
a guy in a baseball shirt.
maybe
we’ll hold hands
and maybe
we’ll go get smoothies at the cruddy food bar,
and we’ll talk for thirty minutes about
nothing.
or maybe he’ll want to do nothing but
skate
the entire time we’re there
and he won’t even
know how to skate,
and then we’ll have to hold hands
just so he doesn’t fall over.

i went rollerskating today.
i went with a guy in a
baseball shirt.
he ditched me five minutes in
for a blonde in a camisole and shorts.
no one wears a camisole and shorts in the winter.
no one.

i skated with a guy in a sweatshirt today.
i didn’t recognize the school
with the tiger mascot
that was on the sweatshirt, but i didn’t care either.
he held my hand and tied my skates,
and he helped me stay upright
most of the time.
later,
we went and got one chocolate shake
with two straws.
and then he swirled me around the roller rink.

i’m going to a movie tomorrow.
i’m going with a guy in a tiger sweatshirt.

Slender (or OMIGOD HE’S GOING TO KILL ME and Other Phrases You Can Avoid)


image

I just got SlenderMan on my phone two days ago. IT IS A SCARY GAME. As in, if you have a family history of heart problems, you should probably contact your doctor before playing. Or, of course, you could just follow a few simple tips:

1. If you see Slender as you’re just walking around, do one of two things. Either hit that little button with the arrows that mean “reverse” and problem solved, or if he’s really close move to one side. Also problem solved.

2. Think of it as looking for notes while also having to avoid these creepy murderer-stalker. Not, OH MY GOD SLENDERMAN!

3. Unless you want to be scared. In which case, be home alone, turn out most of the lights, and just stroll around aimlessly in the game. This way, SlenderMan will probably find you. And the being alone in a dark house thing will make you pee your pants somewhat. Not that I did… pshh… naw.

Although, to warn you, you might not sleep.

No matter what way you do it.

Lik seriously you guys.

Ciao for now,

Mikki

P.S. Typos? Please point them out.

1 Year!


Hey folks, guess what? This is my one-year anniversary of having a blog. Cool right?

Me and mikkiaaron have had some good times together. Through boys in Spanish class, first-world problems, and numerous fails at philosophy and emo poetry, through thick and thin (and for better or for worse) me and my blog have been there for each other. We’ve summed 80-ish followers, uncountable likes, and exponentially increasing amounts of comments. It’s been an adventure for us both.

These aren’t the greatest of times to be celebrating a first birthday. The internet is down at my house, so I’m having to write this all from my phone. There isn’t spellcheck on the WordPress app for Android so I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t misspell anything. (Which is especially hard with this teeny little keyboard). I can’t even put up a picture of a cute little cupcake with a “1” candle it. Yes, times are certainly tough in the world of Mikki Aaron.

But overall, this first year of blogging has been pretty good. Little mishaps like WordPress glitches and hate mail have been overcompensated for by likes, followers, insightful comments, and non-hateful mail. I really want to thank everyone who fits into the second category because you have made all this blogging stuff worthwhile. You’re some of the best 80-ish bloggers I’ve ever e-known. You rock (insert cute little picture of a rock n’ roll hand).

(So for you mikkiaaron haters, too bad. I am beautiful, no matter what they say. Look up your own cute little cupcake pictures.)

This year has been great. And I feel like an elf of Algaesia because this whole “entire year” thing makes me feel old and wise. (Maybe not so bad at metaphors? Anyone?)

Well, to leave with words of wisdom . . .

Blogging is like cruddy pizzas. Even though it’s greasy and awful, it’s so good.

Ciao for now,

Mikki

The Epic of a Girl 2: A Poem


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I’m so mad at myself because

I can’t seem to speak right and I don’t know if he’s just

being

nice to me, or if he actually might like me.

Although I’m mostly sure that he probably likes me,

which is weird because I’m so

confident about it.

Also weird because I don’t think

anyone

of significance has liked me before,

and usually I don’t think that

anyone

will. Usually, that applies to all of time.

But then, in a matter of days,

a couple of sentences,

and some awkward eye contact later,

I am about

80-ish

percent sure that someone

of significance

likes me.

It didn’t even take very much. Not even physical contact.

Just him saying,

in the middle of a conversation,

saying it like he really cared,

“Hey, I feel really bad, but what’s your name?

I can’t seem to remember.”

Like he cared. Like he thought I was worth

knowing.

Or something.

Also, he sings.

Also, he’s adorable.

Potential boyfriend material, obviously, but

what if he…

doesn’t

like me?

Me Trying on Edgar’s Shoes


Coming home seems almost impossible when the
Lampost sheds so little light.
Around me lies the an eerie and serene dark,
I am forced to wonder if he was right.
Right around the corner is some place I’ve never been;
Even as the veil falls I think of him again.
Love is not of vanity, it’s of transparent sin.
I taste a bitter taste and my nostrils fill with tin.
Knives stab deep into their own wounds but they dont’t make a mark,
Even in this silence and even in the dark.
Silence is a virtue,
Patience is a lie.
A raven sings his dismal tune that sounds like a goodbye.
No one here to hear him weep except this very soul,
Killers together, on we lurk, as midnight takes its toll.
Another sound, so distant now,
Coos a lighter note.
Even in this silence and even as I wrote.