You can throw a party without me and talk about it every day at lunch.
You can plan another one while I’m siting right there, and
You can deliberately avoid inviting me.
You can tell me I’m a part of the group and then meet up together without telling me.
You can post the pictures online.
You can promise that I can go but never tell me when.
You can do this for a few weeks, until I give up.
You can tell jokes that everyone else gets but me,
You can create jokes about me while I’m away, and
You can act like I am a walking, talking joke.
You can make me feel unwanted.
You can remind me of the times when I sat by myself every day at recess, and
You can let me know that now is not so different from then.
And you have.
Holy crud. Since when is it December twentieth? No one asked me if this was okay!
That means there are four more not-Christmas days until Christmas, today not included. You know how many presents I’ve bought? ZERO! I have bought zero presents! Zero is THIS many:
This is unbelievable! Unacceptable! Completely and utterly not okay! I haven’t gotten around to writing any super cool Christmas-themed stories. Heck, I haven’t even put up a tree yet. I’ve been doing some serious slacking. We need some Christmas up in here!
After finals today, a friend of mine (who happens to be agnostic Jewish) wished me a Merry Christmas. And I was like, “SHOOT! CHRISTMAS! I ALMOST FORGOT!”
I have been so caught up stressing out and going on the internet to avoid studying that Christmas has barely crossed my mind. Everyone’s asking me, “So what do you want for Christmas?”
And I just want to say, “How am I supposed to know?”
Maybe I’ll just ask for some Christmas for Christmas. Seriously. Just a deep breath, a cup of hot chocolate, and a nap. That would be great, thanks. And how about some mistletoe, when you’re at it?
Just when I thought my stress was going to be over for the next two-ish weeks, the holiday season has to start blinking its warning signs at me. Not cool. SO not cool. I just hope there’s enough time left to deal with it.
It seems like just yesterday that the entire internet was making “Wake Me Up When September Ends” jokes, and now Halloween is just 28 hours away. It feels like an entire month has come out from under my feet.
October is one of the best months of the year, right up there with May, June, and December. In October, the days start to turn darker, and every morning I wake up to a deep blue sky, still littered with stars and punctuated with a rosy moon. Before long, Daylight Savings Time is coming to an end and all that will be taken away from me.
I haven’t carved a pumpkin this year, and yet there are already Christmas decorations and Thanksgiving sales rushing in from all sides. I don’t want October to end. I’m not ready. I––I––
Okay, I need to calm down before I start hyperventilating. But, for me, the real annual end of innocence comes at the turn of winter. It symbolizes the end. At that point, you’re already in your 2014 mindset. The year has died.
My favorite holiday is Halloween. It’s when I can dress up, like I’m five again, and now it’s coming at me so quickly that I’m not sure I can grab it before it’s gone. This whole “October is almost over” thing isn’t working out too well for me.
Enjoy what you have left of autumn. It becomes winter before you even know it.
Ciao for now,
Busy, busy, busy. That’s me all the time now that summer’s over. I don’t have time to do all kinds of things I got used to doing every day, including (but not limited to) posting on mikkiaaron, jamming out, and working on my writing. Being constantly busy is emotionally and psychologically draining, filling me to the brim with complete and utter apathy when I do have time to do those things. Usually, I’ll just go to bed early instead.
Ironically, on the weekends, there is absolutely zero to do. Those are the days when my friends are busy, busy, busy. Either I need some new, less-busy friends or some better plan-making skills, or maybe both. Those are the days that I could be doing something productive, including (but not limited to) adding the next installment to my epic up-and-coming novel that’s turning out marvelously thus far (yeah right, Mikki, how many times have you said that before?).
But, seriously. I’m turning into a lump that occasionally grunts. My general workload has incapacitated me from any real activity, such as physical activity or social activity. Overall, it’s taking every ounce of me to cope with the lack of summer/free time, and it’s not pretty.
Ciao for now,
I am a huge fan of the Inheritance Cycle. And, I’ll be very straightforawrd here, there simply is no accurate description of how disappointed I was in this movie.
Christopher Paolini wrote Eragon when he was still a teenager, and for this he is my personal hero. I have read the series twice (except for the Inheritance, which I have yet to reread) and they are not light. Reading the book, I imagined myself playing Angela, my favorite character, who is essentially a ninja in a dress, with the same hair type as me (dark and curly!) At your right you will find an image of how she is depicted in the film.
I wish to directly address the director, Stefen Fangmeier, and the screenplay writer, Peter Buchman. Clearly, when you read this book, you weren’t considering any of the fans and what they might want from the movie. You didn’t think about the major characters you decied to downgrade or eliminate entirely, i.e. Angela the herbalist (not to mention Solembum). You neglected the Ra’zac, who were not the offspring of the bogeyman and the mummy, but were ghastly beaked assassins. You forgot that Saphira is snarky and fun-loving, that Arya doesn’t have romantic feelings for Eragon (and also would never wear a skirt), and that there is potentially some reason that half of the dialogue spoken by Brom in the movie is spoken by someone else later on in the series. It’s obvious you never considered why fans of the Harry Potter books actually like the movies too. Your movie was corny and cliché, not to mention unsuccessful, everything that should never have come from an excellent book.
I wonder if Christopher Paolini cried in any way when he saw the butchered version of his masterpiece. I know I did.
Ciao for now,
I get it. Spring is all about rebirth and renewal, it’s about fluffy bunnies and Easter baskets and tulips and the color green. But I’m going to be very honest about it: spring is kinda freaking me out right now.
Where I live, the big snow of the year was relatively recent, about three weeks ago or so. Needless to say, I’m not ready for it to be gone yet. I haven’t done any of the cool stuff that most people do with snow. I haven’t made a snowman. I haven’t made a snow fort. What the heck is wrong with me this year?
I also draw a lot of inspiration from snow. There are so many emotions in snow. You could have someone sad or someone happy or in love, not to mention someone going through a spiritual cleansing, in the snow. Snow is a representative for every part of the soul. I’m not totally sure what I’m going to do without it.
So March, being the jerk it is, decides to come along and melt all of the snow. The snowman in our front yard, that I didn’t participate in building, is just a white lump with two detached twigs at its side. The temperatures that I was just getting used to rose dramatically, making my skin confused. I can hear birds chirping like everything is beautiful. What happened to the sound of snow blowers? Is that really too much to ask? Where did my winter go?
Another thing that I’m not looking forward to this season is not having an excuse to stay inside blogging/being a loser. Two of my favorite things that are difficult to do outside, and I can’t stay in to do them. Spring, do you realize that you’re ruining my existence? I don’t care if lovers love you or if you’re filled with chocolate eggs, I still think you could hold on for another month or so, and then I might consider embracing you with open arms.
So if anyone sees Mother Spring or whatever they’re calling her these days, could you have her enforce Operation: Delay Spring for me? That would be a big help.
Ciao for now,
she’s checking up on her wall
gotta be something new
all those lights in are her eyes
in a white and blue hue
well six o’ clock rolls around
and no one else is there
and yet there is still some warmth
in her glazed over stare
she’s surrounded by friendly folks
when she’s in the zone
500 friends on facebook
yet she’s always alone
life’s great when so many friends
are always there to care
and to tell you other things
like what they want to wear
time flies when you’re having fun
and in this perfect place
it’s like reading the best book
with everybody’s face
she can easily catch up on
everyone she’s known
600 friends on facebook
yet she’s always alone
it’s saturday but she’s content
even though her life’s been spent
making herself a fake social life
flirts with a guy she’s never met
she found him on the internet
commenting on someone else’s strife
with her mouse she has worn down her
fingers to the bone
1,000 friends on facebook
yet she’s always alone