Incase I die tonight, because let's face it, I will not be making any good decisions whatsoever, I'd just like to end this year's blogging on a happy note, with a little thank you to you few and foreign followers. And yeah, even you guys who've been following this blog for a whopping 5 days or whatever.
Thank Youuu!! Thanks for reading and commenting on my crazy, egocentric, sometimes ridiculously overemotional posting. Thanks to some of you for becoming real buds, and not just internet aquaintances. Thanks to all of you for being awesome!
I promise next year I'll post even better stuff, with more pictures, and I'll keep the whining about stupid boys to a minimum.
I'm gearing up for a night of dancing at clubs and then raves, so don't expect postage for a few days.
10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3..2...1!!! (the sound the big ball in NYC makes)
Julia
PS. comment with resolutions please?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Music-centric
You lovely people.
You lovely lovely lovely people.
You lovely lovely lovely people listen to crap music!!
Alright, perhaps I'm being a tad judgemental, however, I am rather saddened by the lack of musical taste my generation has been showing lately. But I digress.
But Julia, what makes you so sure of your own musical taste's superiority? Well, my friend, as the daughter of a sound engineer (really, I've got a recording studio in my basement), I would say that my taste in music is rather like that of a gourmet's taste in food: BETTER THAN YOURS.
But again, I digress.
I am on this self-serving, music-centric rant simply because my generation has been groomed to like music that's been made by someone famous and "hot" and was produced in an overly-expensive studio by a "hot" producer. Lyrical value? Pshhh not important. Audio quality? Pah, meaningless. Legit musical talent? Bahahahaha.
As opposed to most people my age who listen to music based on its popularity, whether or not they actually like they way it sounds. Now, I'm not saying that I despise popular music, because that's not true, I despise popular music that is popular for the sake of being popular.
I like music that sounds like it was well-mastered, smoothly edited, and produced with more in mind than cash and club-bangers. I listen to artists with legitimate musical talent, such as the ability to sing without auto-tune (Katy Perry, you lack this. T-Pain, without auto-tune you, my friend, are just speaking into a mic) or play guitar really well (The Edge, without your effects boxes and guitar synths, you are nothing, you hear me, nothing!) I enjoy genres that are [unfortunately] bloated with posers, but commit myself to weeding out the true visionaries from the assholes who like fame.
The majority of my generation, on the other hand, wouldn't know what good editing and real talent sounded like if it were blasted in their faces. It's incredibly frustrating for musical zealots like me to watch artists such as Bruno Mars, who can barely play piano, writes none of his own songs, and sings every song in the same octave become overhyped when artists such as Phoenix, who play all of their own instruments, shun vocal editing, and write independantly of their label get pushed to the back burner.
Sighhh.
I'm a generally tolerant person and I'm open-minded to new things. But I can't tolerate the complete fail-whale my generation has become when it comes to music :(
Crsshhhh schrsshhhhk (the sound that radio static makes)
Julia
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Swearing and Wit
Usually, I'm pretty good at cutting down when I write on this blog.. but if you ever talk to me, you learn very quickly that I curse like a motherfucking sailor. It's not a fantastic habit, but I swear so much I don't even notice when I do.
Lately, my mother has decided to have a personal vendetta against all the vulgar language I use. Today, while I was trying to talk to her about something or other, she derailed the conversation by getting on my case about how much I curse when I speak. I then proceeded to verbally p4wn my mother. The exchange went like this:
Mother: You should stop swearing so much.
Moi: Why? I'm well within my rights.
Lately, my mother has decided to have a personal vendetta against all the vulgar language I use. Today, while I was trying to talk to her about something or other, she derailed the conversation by getting on my case about how much I curse when I speak. I then proceeded to verbally p4wn my mother. The exchange went like this:
Mother: You should stop swearing so much.
Moi: Why? I'm well within my rights.
Mother: No you're not, you need to stop.
Moi: Mom, do you like philosophy?
Mother: That's not--
Moi: How about John Locke's list of human rights, you know, we all have the right to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness? Well, swearing is a big part of my life, it is a manifestation of my personal liberty, and well, swearing to piss you off just makes me happy.
(this was accompanied by a candy-sweet smile and me promptly leaving the room)
I'm not generally too witty during conversational discourse, and snappy comeback are rarely snappy for me, so I'm kind of proud of myself.
Speaking of wit, I recently read a transcript for a play called 'Wit' which was really good, but really depressing. I can't remember who it was by, but if you've got a few hours and nothign to do I suggest you read it.
Going to Denver later to hang out with my best friend and her gay older brother and his boyfriend, lush times hopefully :)
Squeeeeeee (the sound that girls make when they see Justin Beiber)
Julia
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The City I Love Is Trying To Kill Me
Those of you who have read my blog for a while know about my long-standing love affair with the city of Boulder, CO. For those of you who don't, here's how it is:
I go to Boulder almost every weekend because it is infinitely more enjoyable than Hicktown (which is the hick-filled town where I live). Boulder is my happy place, my go-to hang out spot, and my favorite place to be.
So today, while walking around the city by myself after seeing a movie with some buds, I was so deep in thought that I almost walked into a tree. This happened several times. I also nearly walked out into traffic once.
Why would I be so careless? Well, there are 2 reasons.
The first is that the pedestrian laws in Boulder give the pedestrian the right-of-way all the time. Seriously, I could walk into a busy intersection and the cars would have to stop for me to finish crossing otherwise the drivers face fines. Because of the leniant pedestrian laws, when in Boulder people tend to walk carelessly... even me...
The second reason is that due to my many, many trips to Boulder, the city holds a lot of memories. I'm the sort of person who attaches memories and people to places and things, and when I go places and see things, I can't help but remember times and think of people.Me and my ridiculously vivid audiographic memory, well, I get a bit lost in there sometimes, which can lead to hazardous walking.
I sorted out my reservations about talking to Ex though, so it's not like I almost died several times for nothing...
May I also say that though it hasn't yet snowed here in Colorado, it is motherfucking cold and windy.
Swish sweep swish (the sound my skirt is making in the wind)
Julia
I go to Boulder almost every weekend because it is infinitely more enjoyable than Hicktown (which is the hick-filled town where I live). Boulder is my happy place, my go-to hang out spot, and my favorite place to be.
So today, while walking around the city by myself after seeing a movie with some buds, I was so deep in thought that I almost walked into a tree. This happened several times. I also nearly walked out into traffic once.
Why would I be so careless? Well, there are 2 reasons.
The first is that the pedestrian laws in Boulder give the pedestrian the right-of-way all the time. Seriously, I could walk into a busy intersection and the cars would have to stop for me to finish crossing otherwise the drivers face fines. Because of the leniant pedestrian laws, when in Boulder people tend to walk carelessly... even me...
The second reason is that due to my many, many trips to Boulder, the city holds a lot of memories. I'm the sort of person who attaches memories and people to places and things, and when I go places and see things, I can't help but remember times and think of people.Me and my ridiculously vivid audiographic memory, well, I get a bit lost in there sometimes, which can lead to hazardous walking.
I sorted out my reservations about talking to Ex though, so it's not like I almost died several times for nothing...
May I also say that though it hasn't yet snowed here in Colorado, it is motherfucking cold and windy.
Swish sweep swish (the sound my skirt is making in the wind)
Julia
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My Ideal Boyfriend
Yep, Christopher, I stole the idea from you! Muahahaha. But reading your post really got me thinking...
Who is my ideal babymaker?
Well folks, here it is, a slightly less extensive, less picky list of traits that my ideal boyfriend would have (just kidding, it's both extensive and picky)
1) Must be taller than me. Because if he isn't, he's probably 9.
2) He's got to be able to dress himself, and do it well. If at least half of his wardrobe is from Urban Outfitters, Pac Sun, and/or American Apparell, he's perfect.
3) Cold and heartless. I'm not kidding, if he shows any sign of sensitivity he's out.
4) Dark hair. It can't be blonde. Nor ginger. I've had bad luck with gingers... And dear God, it's got to be soft. If his hair is fried or unkempt, ain't no way I'm running my hands through it when we're kissing.
5) It'd be nice if he was clean-shaven. I mean stubble can be sexy, but hobo beards most certainly are not!
6) If he likes any of the following musical artists, he's out:
-Katy Perry
-Jordin Sparks
_Chris Brown
-Bruno Mars
-Swizz Beats
-NWA
7) Must like at least 4 bands that I have not heard of. A true indie-loving boy loves bands no one even knew exsisted. Spearmint and Galactic don't count!
8) He's got to get movie refferences from 1940. Because I make refferences to movies that came out in 1940... And he has to appreciate Charlie Chaplin, even though he's not from 1940.
9) He's got to have pretty eyes. I'm not too picky about the color, but his eyes have to be beautiful and bright. Like a baby. Except he can't be a baby.
10) He's got to have some form of musclecature. Not super ripped, cuz that's a tad frightening, but some nice toned arms and visible abs would be nice.
11) He must posess the ability to swing dance.
12) I'd appreciate it if he were Jewish, but did not aspire to be a doctor or a lawyer. If he's Jewish he should speak Hebrew too!
13) Can't be a stupid drunk. I don't want a guy who turns into a frat boy the second he shoots vodka. Or who gets slopppy and gross and overly horny. Ew.
14) Tolerant boy. Of every sexuality, race, religion, and intelligence level. This excludes republicans.
15) From a big city, like NYC or New Orleans. Hicktown boys are so boring.
16) He's got to have a job or some other form of legitimate cash income. If he can't pay for stuff, afford gas, or freeloads constantly, he's out.
17) He has to know when I need a hug, because I'm never openly hurt, so he's got to be able to pick up on secret 'hug me' vibes.
18) Play an instrument or be able to sing reeeeeeally well, and serenade me spontaneously and often.
19) Has to have a unique and non-typical-American-sounding name, like Felix. Or Harry Potter.
20) If he were British that's be awesome, cuz then we could have little Brit babies who'd grow up with little British accents. Dawwww!
21) Can't be paler than me. No really.
22) He has to have an awkward sense of humor and be able to appreciate weird, up-and-coming comedians. Also, he must like political humor.
23) He's got to be able to hold his own in a conversation with me, and that can be difficult, because half the time I speak eloquently and discuss philosophers and scientific theories, and half the time I sound like a stoned teenager, and discuss stupid teenager stuff.
24) Must like foreign films as much as I do!!
25) Has to read dilligently and be able to suggest good books to me. Also, must enjoy hanging out in bookstores and coffee shops.
26) Can't own leather pants.
27) Absolutely fantastic in bed. Not kidding.
28) Has to have an undying love of burritos. And sushi. And he can't. be. vegetarian.
29) Have slightly homosexual tendencies. Ok, I really am kidding.
So yeah, I guess I'm slightly less picky about my guys... but not by much. I mean, if I met a dude who had maybe half of things on the list covered, I might give it a shot, but there are a few items on here that are non-negotiable. Such as numbers 3, 11, and 28.
Ok, Ex is vegetarian...BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!
Hope you all had a lovely day-after- Jesus Day. I went shopping with Cassi. I bought a rather dashing purple pea coat which I am currently in love with. We had the most amazing burgers ever, got creeped on by several men including one who bent down and stared at us scarily as he asked us for spare change. We decided that the bus driver on the way back to Hicktown was a super hero, due to his muscly-ness and sick tattoos. Successful day :)
Clackity Clack (the sound high-heels make on tiled floors)
Julia
Who is my ideal babymaker?
Well folks, here it is, a slightly less extensive, less picky list of traits that my ideal boyfriend would have (just kidding, it's both extensive and picky)
1) Must be taller than me. Because if he isn't, he's probably 9.
2) He's got to be able to dress himself, and do it well. If at least half of his wardrobe is from Urban Outfitters, Pac Sun, and/or American Apparell, he's perfect.
3) Cold and heartless. I'm not kidding, if he shows any sign of sensitivity he's out.
4) Dark hair. It can't be blonde. Nor ginger. I've had bad luck with gingers... And dear God, it's got to be soft. If his hair is fried or unkempt, ain't no way I'm running my hands through it when we're kissing.
5) It'd be nice if he was clean-shaven. I mean stubble can be sexy, but hobo beards most certainly are not!
6) If he likes any of the following musical artists, he's out:
-Katy Perry
-Jordin Sparks
_Chris Brown
-Bruno Mars
-Swizz Beats
-NWA
7) Must like at least 4 bands that I have not heard of. A true indie-loving boy loves bands no one even knew exsisted. Spearmint and Galactic don't count!
8) He's got to get movie refferences from 1940. Because I make refferences to movies that came out in 1940... And he has to appreciate Charlie Chaplin, even though he's not from 1940.
9) He's got to have pretty eyes. I'm not too picky about the color, but his eyes have to be beautiful and bright. Like a baby. Except he can't be a baby.
10) He's got to have some form of musclecature. Not super ripped, cuz that's a tad frightening, but some nice toned arms and visible abs would be nice.
11) He must posess the ability to swing dance.
12) I'd appreciate it if he were Jewish, but did not aspire to be a doctor or a lawyer. If he's Jewish he should speak Hebrew too!
13) Can't be a stupid drunk. I don't want a guy who turns into a frat boy the second he shoots vodka. Or who gets slopppy and gross and overly horny. Ew.
14) Tolerant boy. Of every sexuality, race, religion, and intelligence level. This excludes republicans.
15) From a big city, like NYC or New Orleans. Hicktown boys are so boring.
16) He's got to have a job or some other form of legitimate cash income. If he can't pay for stuff, afford gas, or freeloads constantly, he's out.
17) He has to know when I need a hug, because I'm never openly hurt, so he's got to be able to pick up on secret 'hug me' vibes.
18) Play an instrument or be able to sing reeeeeeally well, and serenade me spontaneously and often.
19) Has to have a unique and non-typical-American-sounding name, like Felix. Or Harry Potter.
20) If he were British that's be awesome, cuz then we could have little Brit babies who'd grow up with little British accents. Dawwww!
21) Can't be paler than me. No really.
22) He has to have an awkward sense of humor and be able to appreciate weird, up-and-coming comedians. Also, he must like political humor.
23) He's got to be able to hold his own in a conversation with me, and that can be difficult, because half the time I speak eloquently and discuss philosophers and scientific theories, and half the time I sound like a stoned teenager, and discuss stupid teenager stuff.
24) Must like foreign films as much as I do!!
25) Has to read dilligently and be able to suggest good books to me. Also, must enjoy hanging out in bookstores and coffee shops.
26) Can't own leather pants.
27) Absolutely fantastic in bed. Not kidding.
28) Has to have an undying love of burritos. And sushi. And he can't. be. vegetarian.
29) Have slightly homosexual tendencies. Ok, I really am kidding.
So yeah, I guess I'm slightly less picky about my guys... but not by much. I mean, if I met a dude who had maybe half of things on the list covered, I might give it a shot, but there are a few items on here that are non-negotiable. Such as numbers 3, 11, and 28.
Ok, Ex is vegetarian...BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!
Hope you all had a lovely day-after- Jesus Day. I went shopping with Cassi. I bought a rather dashing purple pea coat which I am currently in love with. We had the most amazing burgers ever, got creeped on by several men including one who bent down and stared at us scarily as he asked us for spare change. We decided that the bus driver on the way back to Hicktown was a super hero, due to his muscly-ness and sick tattoos. Successful day :)
Clackity Clack (the sound high-heels make on tiled floors)
Julia
Friday, December 24, 2010
Her Morning Elegance
Well, I did have a post. But it wasn't very happy, nor was it at all interesting.
So here, have my favorite music video of all time.
Happy Christmas :)
So here, have my favorite music video of all time.
Happy Christmas :)
I hope you get lots of presents and cookies.
Flaaaa (the sound a shiny tree ornament makes)
Jewlia
Flaaaa (the sound a shiny tree ornament makes)
Jewlia
Thursday, December 23, 2010
That Song, Like, Spoke To Me
As this lovely Christmas break is nearing its namesake, I am finding my self with more and more free time because fewer and fewer of friends are able to hang out due to preparations for the festivites (damn Judaism...) so in order to fill my now copious amounts of free time, I have begun singing around the house because no one is ever here anyway.
And as I have begun working my way through an extensive repetoire of Aretha Franklin, Beatles, Regina Spektor, Panic! At The Disco, Christina Aguilera, and Whitney Houston songs, I have begun to connect more with the lyrics of each artist. I guess singing their songs loudly and repatedly kinda does that... anyway.
I think that if one truly wishes to understand the lyrics of say, a rather oddly written Beatles song, than they must sing that song extremely fucking loudly while baking cookies because there is nothing better to do. Worked for me and 'I Am The Walrus' ;)
In other news, now that my feathers have come out (both bundles of feathers that I had put in my hair, it was tragic) I can now begin bleaching my hair again! Celebration!! Noxious toxic chemicals are just so much fun to put on you scalp! No really, you should try it some time.
I have been awake for a grand total of 3 hours and am already dying of boredom. Someone skype me (rainborevolver) or something XD
Coo Coo Catchoo (the sound the Eggman makes)
Julia
And as I have begun working my way through an extensive repetoire of Aretha Franklin, Beatles, Regina Spektor, Panic! At The Disco, Christina Aguilera, and Whitney Houston songs, I have begun to connect more with the lyrics of each artist. I guess singing their songs loudly and repatedly kinda does that... anyway.
I think that if one truly wishes to understand the lyrics of say, a rather oddly written Beatles song, than they must sing that song extremely fucking loudly while baking cookies because there is nothing better to do. Worked for me and 'I Am The Walrus' ;)
In other news, now that my feathers have come out (both bundles of feathers that I had put in my hair, it was tragic) I can now begin bleaching my hair again! Celebration!! Noxious toxic chemicals are just so much fun to put on you scalp! No really, you should try it some time.
I have been awake for a grand total of 3 hours and am already dying of boredom. Someone skype me (rainborevolver) or something XD
Coo Coo Catchoo (the sound the Eggman makes)
Julia
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
You Wish You Were This Sexy.
ok, 2 posts, 1 day, unacceptable, I know. But my friend just gave me this picture and I had to share. And yes, those are leopard-print footy pajamas.
Sexier than you? I believe so.
Sexier than you? I believe so.
Those Silly Jews
My day has been filled with instances that made my religious beliefs seem more ironic than usual.
The first of which was seeing a Facebook status post by Ex informing everyone (but especially me) that he flew to Israel and would be away from the internet until he gets back. Well that mission is on hold. I sat there for a solid 5 minutes thinking "damn Judaism."
The second instance was in Macy's Department Store in Boulder when my friends and I went to talk to the man impersonating Santa. Santa Impersonator Man was a class-A creeper but for some reason talking to him made me remember my childhood.
When I was about 5, I believed in Santa because I didn't really understand that Christianity and Judaism were seperate and my parents had never really spelled that out for me. So little Julia, blissfully unaware of her own stupidity, tells her friends at Hebrew school that she can't wait for Santa to come down her chimney. It is at this time when little Julia is informed by the teacher's obnoxious daughter that Santa doesn't like Jewish kids. Little Julia's hopes and dreams = crushed.
As I'm standing in Macy's talking to the creepy Santa impersonator remembering this, I'm thinking again "damn Judaism."
I love Hanukkah, don't get me wrong, but today I just wasn't feeling the Jew-love.
Sighh
L'chaim! (The sound drunk Jews make)
Julia
The first of which was seeing a Facebook status post by Ex informing everyone (but especially me) that he flew to Israel and would be away from the internet until he gets back. Well that mission is on hold. I sat there for a solid 5 minutes thinking "damn Judaism."
The second instance was in Macy's Department Store in Boulder when my friends and I went to talk to the man impersonating Santa. Santa Impersonator Man was a class-A creeper but for some reason talking to him made me remember my childhood.
When I was about 5, I believed in Santa because I didn't really understand that Christianity and Judaism were seperate and my parents had never really spelled that out for me. So little Julia, blissfully unaware of her own stupidity, tells her friends at Hebrew school that she can't wait for Santa to come down her chimney. It is at this time when little Julia is informed by the teacher's obnoxious daughter that Santa doesn't like Jewish kids. Little Julia's hopes and dreams = crushed.
As I'm standing in Macy's talking to the creepy Santa impersonator remembering this, I'm thinking again "damn Judaism."
I love Hanukkah, don't get me wrong, but today I just wasn't feeling the Jew-love.
Sighh
L'chaim! (The sound drunk Jews make)
Julia
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Ok, First Draft For Real.
So I was thinking I'd email him something like this...
Hey,
So I know it's been a while, like a really long while and we've fallen out of touch which bothers me a little bit. We could get coffee and catch up some time, if you'd be into that, hit me up : (phone number)
If not, that's cool. I just want to mend burnt bridges you know?
Julia
Too creepy?
GAAAAAAHHHHH
Hey,
So I know it's been a while, like a really long while and we've fallen out of touch which bothers me a little bit. We could get coffee and catch up some time, if you'd be into that, hit me up : (phone number)
If not, that's cool. I just want to mend burnt bridges you know?
Julia
Too creepy?
GAAAAAAHHHHH
First Draft
A few days ago, while I was walking around Boulder with my friend, we were discussing our recent lives in a very detacthed manner. I love my friend because she's so blatantly unemotional that I can tell her about heartbreak and she'll regard it the way I do: "Oh, that sucks.." and then we move the fuck onward with our lives.
But she mentioned her ex, so I only thought it appropriate to bring up mine.
Ex, the last actual relationship I had, hasn't spoken to me in about 9 months, save the occasional 'like' of a Facebook status or off-handed comment on one. Yes, this is the same Ex to whom I wrote a very angry letter to on this blog shortly after I broke up with him (don't go digging for that, it's not pretty).
The thing is, he's the only guy I've dated whom I haven't kept in touch with, and this bothers me to no end. It's possibly because he was basically the best boyfriend I've ever had: just as heartless as I, listened to obscure indie, enjoyed playing his saxaphone for money, vegetrarian, liked burritos and feodoras. We were perfect for each other and we knew it, but I had to be stupid and *poof* went that relationship...
Now normally, I'm not the type who clings to the past like it's on sale at Macy's, however, my friends have noticed that whenever we're walking around Boulder, I point at places he used to take me, and tell the cute stories of our time there. My friends either find this adorably sentimental in a 'The Notebook' sort of way, or they find it creepy and obnoxious that I get misty-eyed about pizza parlors.
So yesterday my friend proposed a solution, which was to reach out to him and see if he wanted to hang out and catch up. Of course, I'd be elated to even talk to him again, let alone get coffee and reminisse, but I don't want him to think it's weird (as in restraining-order weird) that I'm suddenly talking to him again, or even wanting to see him again.
Point of clarification: I don't necessarily want to date him again. If we hang out and I remember why I dumped his ass, then that's fine. I just need some fucking closure here!
Anyway, few and foreign followers, I need advice!!
Should I reach out and hope it leads somewhere positive, or just man up and restrain myself from wallowing in the past?
Clink Bang (the sound a glass bottle of Coca-Cola makes)
Julia
But she mentioned her ex, so I only thought it appropriate to bring up mine.
Ex, the last actual relationship I had, hasn't spoken to me in about 9 months, save the occasional 'like' of a Facebook status or off-handed comment on one. Yes, this is the same Ex to whom I wrote a very angry letter to on this blog shortly after I broke up with him (don't go digging for that, it's not pretty).
The thing is, he's the only guy I've dated whom I haven't kept in touch with, and this bothers me to no end. It's possibly because he was basically the best boyfriend I've ever had: just as heartless as I, listened to obscure indie, enjoyed playing his saxaphone for money, vegetrarian, liked burritos and feodoras. We were perfect for each other and we knew it, but I had to be stupid and *poof* went that relationship...
Now normally, I'm not the type who clings to the past like it's on sale at Macy's, however, my friends have noticed that whenever we're walking around Boulder, I point at places he used to take me, and tell the cute stories of our time there. My friends either find this adorably sentimental in a 'The Notebook' sort of way, or they find it creepy and obnoxious that I get misty-eyed about pizza parlors.
So yesterday my friend proposed a solution, which was to reach out to him and see if he wanted to hang out and catch up. Of course, I'd be elated to even talk to him again, let alone get coffee and reminisse, but I don't want him to think it's weird (as in restraining-order weird) that I'm suddenly talking to him again, or even wanting to see him again.
Point of clarification: I don't necessarily want to date him again. If we hang out and I remember why I dumped his ass, then that's fine. I just need some fucking closure here!
Anyway, few and foreign followers, I need advice!!
Should I reach out and hope it leads somewhere positive, or just man up and restrain myself from wallowing in the past?
Clink Bang (the sound a glass bottle of Coca-Cola makes)
Julia
Saturday, December 18, 2010
A Series Of Meaningless Anouncements
#1 My debate partner and I did dominate those two douchebags from Cheyenne that I mentioned in my last post. Ha!
#2 I think that if I dyed my hair back to its natural color, I'd look a little more like Regina Spektor.
#3 My French cousin is coming to visit tomorrow. Apparently he is 20 and has a very attractive accent.
#4 I have Cassi's Christmas present and she is going to freak out when she sees it, but I don't know if it will be in a good way.
#5 Agb has a cat.
#6 I have been listening to a lot of Eminem lately. I know that most of you few and foreign followers disapprove, but for some reason I'm on an angry whiteboy kick right now. Usually my taste is better, honest.
#7 My little sister is rather adorable, but I'd never tell her that.
#8 MONSTER ENERGY DRINK. IS. EVIL.
(refer to comments on yesterday's post...)
#9 When I walk, I walk one foot in front of the other, like a model, but it's automatic and I don't know why I do it.
#10 Only seven days till Christmas!
#11 Even though I'm not Christian, I'm kind of hoping one of my friends will forget and send me a card or some cookies.
#12 Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs is stupid.
#13 Thirteen is not a lucky number!
Pew Pew Pew (the sound Star Wars lasers make...but how would I know? I've never actually seen any of the movies..)
Julia
#2 I think that if I dyed my hair back to its natural color, I'd look a little more like Regina Spektor.
#3 My French cousin is coming to visit tomorrow. Apparently he is 20 and has a very attractive accent.
#4 I have Cassi's Christmas present and she is going to freak out when she sees it, but I don't know if it will be in a good way.
#5 Agb has a cat.
#6 I have been listening to a lot of Eminem lately. I know that most of you few and foreign followers disapprove, but for some reason I'm on an angry whiteboy kick right now. Usually my taste is better, honest.
#7 My little sister is rather adorable, but I'd never tell her that.
#8 MONSTER ENERGY DRINK. IS. EVIL.
(refer to comments on yesterday's post...)
#9 When I walk, I walk one foot in front of the other, like a model, but it's automatic and I don't know why I do it.
#10 Only seven days till Christmas!
#11 Even though I'm not Christian, I'm kind of hoping one of my friends will forget and send me a card or some cookies.
#12 Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs is stupid.
#13 Thirteen is not a lucky number!
Pew Pew Pew (the sound Star Wars lasers make...but how would I know? I've never actually seen any of the movies..)
Julia
Friday, December 17, 2010
From A Hallway In A High School In Wyoming
Overnight debate tournament weeeee!
My debate partner and I are currently sitting outside our room waiting to debate *coughdominatecough* these two douchebags from Cheyenne.
I am caffinated as fuck from the Monster I'm drinking and life is good.
My debate partner and I are currently sitting outside our room waiting to debate *coughdominatecough* these two douchebags from Cheyenne.
I am caffinated as fuck from the Monster I'm drinking and life is good.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
You Crafty Fucker
You think you can reel me in with snarky, albeit covertly charming, commentaries on the sad exsistence you lead? You think that subtle, back-handed compliments make me look forward to talking with you?
Oh no sir, I may be blonde, but I am not blind. I see that you use the same tactic on every new girl you meet. I notice the several other girls who you've got convinced that you like them but are too shy to say so. They're all thinking "Oh he's nice to her, but I'm the one he wants." What they don't know is that secretly you want none of them, and you're actually lusting after this imaginary dream girl culmination of all of them.
You, sir, are leading these girls on in a way you didn't even know you were capable of. You underestimated your own flirting ability, doing so carelessly and excessively because you never thought it would yield results. But it has, oh it has.
And now, the time has come, you crafty fucker, to make up your mind. Either you have to embrace your girl-getting gift, or shun it, but for God's sake, don't just continue flirting with every girl that you find interesting because it works.
It works. You're nonchalant, half-kidding flirtation works. Dammit.
Mrawrrr (the sound Cornelius the kitty makes)
Julia
Oh no sir, I may be blonde, but I am not blind. I see that you use the same tactic on every new girl you meet. I notice the several other girls who you've got convinced that you like them but are too shy to say so. They're all thinking "Oh he's nice to her, but I'm the one he wants." What they don't know is that secretly you want none of them, and you're actually lusting after this imaginary dream girl culmination of all of them.
You, sir, are leading these girls on in a way you didn't even know you were capable of. You underestimated your own flirting ability, doing so carelessly and excessively because you never thought it would yield results. But it has, oh it has.
And now, the time has come, you crafty fucker, to make up your mind. Either you have to embrace your girl-getting gift, or shun it, but for God's sake, don't just continue flirting with every girl that you find interesting because it works.
It works. You're nonchalant, half-kidding flirtation works. Dammit.
Mrawrrr (the sound Cornelius the kitty makes)
Julia
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Umbrella Ella Ella
I got bored and watched the video for that song about a million times on my iPod today. I love the part at the end where Rihanna's all silver and stuff, it's just very cool cinematography.
Anyway.
My romance-obsessed teenage brain is currently mulling over a rather interesting phenomenon that I've noticed a lot lately: The Cling Paradigm. The paradigm is a standard of the amount that a girl can be physically clinging onto a guy before he gets annoyed and loses interest. Basically, it takes an average of 6 hours straight.
I noticed this at the tournament on Saturday, when Snarky Debate Boy and Tiwanese Skank (who's not really a skank, I love her) were hanging out. At first, I thought that Sdb liked TS, but after a while I realized that it was mostly her hanging all over him. At dinner I asked him staight up if he wanted her in his bed, and he was like Noooooo. And when I pointed out that they had spent basically all day attatched at the hip, he pointed out that "dude, she was all over ME." And at that exact moment, this epiphany fell from the sky and hit me in the face:
I have lost my sixth sense about when guys like my friends.
But back to the paradigm, essentially, my conclusion is that guys don't like clinginess and tend not to go for clingy girls. You may be thinking "No shit, Sherlock," but honestly the way most couples can't bear to be apart these days, the paradigm is sort of a revelation. Plus Sdb is kind of adorable, so yeah...
Guess what?
It's time for finals, in other words,
Fuck,
I
Never
Actually
Learned
Shit.
And that, kids, is what we call an acrostic poem. At least I won't be failing my English final...
Ella ella ella eh eh eh (the sound Rihanna makes)
Julia
Anyway.
My romance-obsessed teenage brain is currently mulling over a rather interesting phenomenon that I've noticed a lot lately: The Cling Paradigm. The paradigm is a standard of the amount that a girl can be physically clinging onto a guy before he gets annoyed and loses interest. Basically, it takes an average of 6 hours straight.
I noticed this at the tournament on Saturday, when Snarky Debate Boy and Tiwanese Skank (who's not really a skank, I love her) were hanging out. At first, I thought that Sdb liked TS, but after a while I realized that it was mostly her hanging all over him. At dinner I asked him staight up if he wanted her in his bed, and he was like Noooooo. And when I pointed out that they had spent basically all day attatched at the hip, he pointed out that "dude, she was all over ME." And at that exact moment, this epiphany fell from the sky and hit me in the face:
I have lost my sixth sense about when guys like my friends.
But back to the paradigm, essentially, my conclusion is that guys don't like clinginess and tend not to go for clingy girls. You may be thinking "No shit, Sherlock," but honestly the way most couples can't bear to be apart these days, the paradigm is sort of a revelation. Plus Sdb is kind of adorable, so yeah...
Guess what?
It's time for finals, in other words,
Fuck,
I
Never
Actually
Learned
Shit.
And that, kids, is what we call an acrostic poem. At least I won't be failing my English final...
Ella ella ella eh eh eh (the sound Rihanna makes)
Julia
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Random Misplaced Affection
Just a warning, this post is kind of all over the place, so brace yourself.
Yesterday I was stuck sitting in a hallway in my school for 10 hours due to a speech tournament. My job was to make sure kids weren't going where they weren't supposed to, but none of them did because no one was even on that side of the school anyway. So my hallway became the chill-out spot for all of my buddies with similar duties, because they were just as bored as I was.
Excluding makeing out on the backs of tournament busses or in unused art rooms (those stories are for another time), speech and debate kids are fairly well-behaved and aren't exactly adventurous when it comes to being in new schools, so none of us had anything to do.
Everyone sort of congregated in my hallway and we played Never Have I Ever and Egyptian Rat Slap, which is this intense card game that involves slapping the other peoples' hands.
After the tournament had wrapped up, we all went to Red Robin as usual, and this freshman, let's call him Little Novice, shyly asked if he could sit next to me. I turned and said "Uh, No." in the bitchiest voice I could. Then I grinned and pulled out the chair for him, and he sat down next to me looking confused. I said I was joking around and of course he could sit next to me, and when I went to give him a hug, he kissed me on the cheek. It was one of those hurried, nervous, probably-had-been-planning-that-all-day kisses on the cheek. Can you say AWWWWWW!!! I'm flattered, but I feel badly for the kid, because I don't want to give him false hope.
We interrupt this broadcast for a conceited mini-rant:
Why, God, why is it that the only person who is even remotely interested in me is an under-developed, albeit puppy-dog cute, immature freshman? Am I really that unattractive? I mean, if I am, I can work on that. But I'm seriously going into like, withdrawl from male affection. Not to sound like an unrelenting sex fiend or something, honest. It's just, after breaking it off with Mwb, I have no where to put my heart. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to convince myself that I like certain people because I feel as if I need to like someone right now, even though I don't and that's stupid. I mean, I really don't need a boyfriend, I am the funnest single person I know, because I don't sit around mourning my lack of a guy.
But dear God, why does no one want to be with me? Is it my blunt commentary? My overly bleached hair? The fact that I make more 'that's what she said' jokes than most of my friends? Do guys just not like short girls? I hate that I'm starting to randomly misplace my affections, just so that I have feelings for someone. What is wrong with the world? Do I only appeal to douchey, sex-obsessed boys who live half an hour away? GAAAHHHH!! SOMEONE TELL ME THEY LIKE ME, GODDAMMIT!
Ok, conceited mini-rant over. Apologies for the interruption.
Anyway, finals week is this week, but I'm not too concerned, and I get to miss Friday to go to Cheyenne, Wyoming, for a big tournament, so hopefully life will seem better. I'm definitely looking forward to 2.5 weeks of no school.
Boom Sacka-de-Lacka (the sound that Mitchell Davis makes)
Julia
P to the S: Out of the blue, my mother (who I'm really not close with) brought me back a steak with all the trimmings for dinner. Should I be concerned at this random display of maternal love? I'm very weirded out...
Anyway, have a tolerable Monday.
Peace.
Yesterday I was stuck sitting in a hallway in my school for 10 hours due to a speech tournament. My job was to make sure kids weren't going where they weren't supposed to, but none of them did because no one was even on that side of the school anyway. So my hallway became the chill-out spot for all of my buddies with similar duties, because they were just as bored as I was.
Excluding makeing out on the backs of tournament busses or in unused art rooms (those stories are for another time), speech and debate kids are fairly well-behaved and aren't exactly adventurous when it comes to being in new schools, so none of us had anything to do.
Everyone sort of congregated in my hallway and we played Never Have I Ever and Egyptian Rat Slap, which is this intense card game that involves slapping the other peoples' hands.
After the tournament had wrapped up, we all went to Red Robin as usual, and this freshman, let's call him Little Novice, shyly asked if he could sit next to me. I turned and said "Uh, No." in the bitchiest voice I could. Then I grinned and pulled out the chair for him, and he sat down next to me looking confused. I said I was joking around and of course he could sit next to me, and when I went to give him a hug, he kissed me on the cheek. It was one of those hurried, nervous, probably-had-been-planning-that-all-day kisses on the cheek. Can you say AWWWWWW!!! I'm flattered, but I feel badly for the kid, because I don't want to give him false hope.
We interrupt this broadcast for a conceited mini-rant:
Why, God, why is it that the only person who is even remotely interested in me is an under-developed, albeit puppy-dog cute, immature freshman? Am I really that unattractive? I mean, if I am, I can work on that. But I'm seriously going into like, withdrawl from male affection. Not to sound like an unrelenting sex fiend or something, honest. It's just, after breaking it off with Mwb, I have no where to put my heart. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to convince myself that I like certain people because I feel as if I need to like someone right now, even though I don't and that's stupid. I mean, I really don't need a boyfriend, I am the funnest single person I know, because I don't sit around mourning my lack of a guy.
But dear God, why does no one want to be with me? Is it my blunt commentary? My overly bleached hair? The fact that I make more 'that's what she said' jokes than most of my friends? Do guys just not like short girls? I hate that I'm starting to randomly misplace my affections, just so that I have feelings for someone. What is wrong with the world? Do I only appeal to douchey, sex-obsessed boys who live half an hour away? GAAAHHHH!! SOMEONE TELL ME THEY LIKE ME, GODDAMMIT!
Ok, conceited mini-rant over. Apologies for the interruption.
Anyway, finals week is this week, but I'm not too concerned, and I get to miss Friday to go to Cheyenne, Wyoming, for a big tournament, so hopefully life will seem better. I'm definitely looking forward to 2.5 weeks of no school.
Boom Sacka-de-Lacka (the sound that Mitchell Davis makes)
Julia
P to the S: Out of the blue, my mother (who I'm really not close with) brought me back a steak with all the trimmings for dinner. Should I be concerned at this random display of maternal love? I'm very weirded out...
Anyway, have a tolerable Monday.
Peace.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
An Old Obsession.
I was bored and looking through my YouTube favorites and I realized that more than half of them are dance videos. I used to be a dancer, and I really miss it, so I guess I just manifest my grief in the form of watching other people do it. I think I may get back into it.. but yeah.. random revelation of the night.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Pretending To Be A Gazelle
I was feeling reminiscent today, so I looked through some old photos and I thought I'd share a few just because.
I found this beauty:
Which, I'm not going to lie, is a picture of me all pretending to be a gazelle leaping around like gazelles tend to do. I don't actually know how it started, but me randomly leaping around and shouting "I am a beautiful gazelle!" sort of became a running joke with my friends for a while... Lot's of fun to do it crowded outdoor places... Yeah, I'm awesome.
And then there's this one, taken shortly after the gazelle-impersonating shot, in which I'm not really sure what I'm doing, but my hair looks kind of cool (in all of its half-bleached, unstraightened, gingerish glory).
I don't really know why I'm posting so many pictures all of a sudden... It's weird. I won't do it again for a while, promise. Ah the vanity...
Mrphle Raghhh (the sound a crackhead on a bus makes)
Julia
I found this beauty:
Which, I'm not going to lie, is a picture of me all pretending to be a gazelle leaping around like gazelles tend to do. I don't actually know how it started, but me randomly leaping around and shouting "I am a beautiful gazelle!" sort of became a running joke with my friends for a while... Lot's of fun to do it crowded outdoor places... Yeah, I'm awesome.
And then there's this one, taken shortly after the gazelle-impersonating shot, in which I'm not really sure what I'm doing, but my hair looks kind of cool (in all of its half-bleached, unstraightened, gingerish glory).
I don't really know why I'm posting so many pictures all of a sudden... It's weird. I won't do it again for a while, promise. Ah the vanity...
Mrphle Raghhh (the sound a crackhead on a bus makes)
Julia
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I Am Never Drinking Monster Again.
I have consumed 4 and a half 16 oz cans of Monster energy drink in a 24-hour period. On the cans, it says never to drink more than 3 at once, and if you knew me in real life you'd know that I'm am a teeny-tiny person, so I probably should have consumed even less than that... But hey, I'm alive.
Well last night was utterly boring. We drank Monsters and watched MTV for like 4 hours straight, because my friend was too scared to sneak out to the park with me at 4 am. Not my idea of an exciting time. I fell asleep for about half an hour at around 5 and when I woke up to get ready for school, I legitimately wanted to die. I've never woken up feeling like my insides were that twisted before.
I basically stayed nauseas and caffinated all morning, and I brought my last can with me to school so that I'd make it through chemistry (because stoichiometry is rather dull and not my favorite activity that early in the morning) and I was about half way through it when I realized that I really hate Monster. I felt like a tweaker, because I hated the stuff, but I couldn't stop drinking it.
Eventually my friend pried the half-full can from my trembling hands and just let me ramble at high speeds about my lack of a love life at the moment and how I was proud that I didn't fail my last math quiz (which, believe me, was a Herculean achievement) and that I though it was weird that Monster is a red liquid even though you'd think it'd be green. The extreme caffination made me shake so much that my penmanship suffered and my history teacher thought I was hypothermic.
Lovely times.
Glug Glug (the sound I make when chugging the Aquafina in an attempt to detox)
Julia
Well last night was utterly boring. We drank Monsters and watched MTV for like 4 hours straight, because my friend was too scared to sneak out to the park with me at 4 am. Not my idea of an exciting time. I fell asleep for about half an hour at around 5 and when I woke up to get ready for school, I legitimately wanted to die. I've never woken up feeling like my insides were that twisted before.
I basically stayed nauseas and caffinated all morning, and I brought my last can with me to school so that I'd make it through chemistry (because stoichiometry is rather dull and not my favorite activity that early in the morning) and I was about half way through it when I realized that I really hate Monster. I felt like a tweaker, because I hated the stuff, but I couldn't stop drinking it.
Eventually my friend pried the half-full can from my trembling hands and just let me ramble at high speeds about my lack of a love life at the moment and how I was proud that I didn't fail my last math quiz (which, believe me, was a Herculean achievement) and that I though it was weird that Monster is a red liquid even though you'd think it'd be green. The extreme caffination made me shake so much that my penmanship suffered and my history teacher thought I was hypothermic.
Lovely times.
Glug Glug (the sound I make when chugging the Aquafina in an attempt to detox)
Julia
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Korean Socks
Ok, first of all, look at my pretty red dress (don't look at my lack of make up and unstraightened hair, though, please). What high school choir has tight red dresses as the choir uniform? The guys get to wear white shirts with red ties and black suspenders, we basically look bomb-diggity. I love my choir.
My friend and I are about to embark on a marathon of energy drink chugging and late-night shenannigans. I know it's a Wednesday night... but I guess Wednesdays are good for shennanigans (coughandlossesofvirginitescough). Hopefully we'll be able to sneak out and go on some caffinated adventures. (Note to self: That'd be a good title for my autobiography, if I ever bothered to write one.."The Caffinated Adventures of Julia M.")
Anyway, we shall not be sleeping tonight.
The socks I'm wearing have a ridiculous cartoon man pinching his cheeks and wearing a bear costume. They've got Korean words on them too, I must say they're pretty fantastic. My friend who works in Seoul brought them back for me and they're my favorite socks ever due to their absolute crazyness.
Do you have any awesome Asian socks?
Ker-clunk (the sound opening a can of Monster makes)
Julia
My friend and I are about to embark on a marathon of energy drink chugging and late-night shenannigans. I know it's a Wednesday night... but I guess Wednesdays are good for shennanigans (coughandlossesofvirginitescough). Hopefully we'll be able to sneak out and go on some caffinated adventures. (Note to self: That'd be a good title for my autobiography, if I ever bothered to write one.."The Caffinated Adventures of Julia M.")
Anyway, we shall not be sleeping tonight.
The socks I'm wearing have a ridiculous cartoon man pinching his cheeks and wearing a bear costume. They've got Korean words on them too, I must say they're pretty fantastic. My friend who works in Seoul brought them back for me and they're my favorite socks ever due to their absolute crazyness.
Do you have any awesome Asian socks?
Ker-clunk (the sound opening a can of Monster makes)
Julia
Monday, December 6, 2010
Extensitivity
What is is with me using big made-up words these days? Holy Rocket Jesus. I don't even know what "extensitivity" is. It just sort of popped out my brain because I couldn't think of what to call this post. I think what I was initally going for was "Extensive Sensitivity" but somehow it got jumbled up along the brainwaves, hooray for lysdexia. I mean dyslexia. (lol, see what I did there? But seriously, being intelligent is hard when you can't read for shit)
Anyway, sensitivity. I constantly denounce it, and have said on several occasions how much it really annoys me when people are emotionally over-sensitive. Or sensitive at all, really. I find over-dramatic, wear-their-emotions-like-a-new-dress, mre-fragile-than-butterfly-wings people a tad obnoxious all the time. Lately I've been posting a lot of bitchy, cold-hearted swill. I beg you few and foreign followers not to take this the wrong way.
I'm a warm-ish person, honestly, I'm just extremely unemotional all the time.
I mean, I'll listen if you've got problems, and I'm used to being the shoulder to cry on, and I am constantly giving hugs and professing my love to strangers and inanimate objects. I'm just not an emotionally deep chica. I get sad and angry, but I'm kind of a ninja at hiding it. I don't cry in public, ever, (seriously, ask my friends, 99% of them have never even seen me tear up in a movie theater) and I tend to keep my feelings in check. Because of this I come off as a stony bitch.
Well, pshh ok, maybe I am a bit of a stony bitch. But since I'm sort of a magnet for screwed up people, I find that my lack of emotion kind of balances things out most of the time. Works for me.
Offically ended the whatever-it-was with Mwb, by the way. He took it pretty badly... oh well, it had to be done I guess, I mean, it was just getting stupid. But whatever, life's good.
Boom Buppa Boom Ba Boom Ba Boom Boom (The sound a good electronica track makes)
Julia
Anyway, sensitivity. I constantly denounce it, and have said on several occasions how much it really annoys me when people are emotionally over-sensitive. Or sensitive at all, really. I find over-dramatic, wear-their-emotions-like-a-new-dress, mre-fragile-than-butterfly-wings people a tad obnoxious all the time. Lately I've been posting a lot of bitchy, cold-hearted swill. I beg you few and foreign followers not to take this the wrong way.
I'm a warm-ish person, honestly, I'm just extremely unemotional all the time.
I mean, I'll listen if you've got problems, and I'm used to being the shoulder to cry on, and I am constantly giving hugs and professing my love to strangers and inanimate objects. I'm just not an emotionally deep chica. I get sad and angry, but I'm kind of a ninja at hiding it. I don't cry in public, ever, (seriously, ask my friends, 99% of them have never even seen me tear up in a movie theater) and I tend to keep my feelings in check. Because of this I come off as a stony bitch.
Well, pshh ok, maybe I am a bit of a stony bitch. But since I'm sort of a magnet for screwed up people, I find that my lack of emotion kind of balances things out most of the time. Works for me.
Offically ended the whatever-it-was with Mwb, by the way. He took it pretty badly... oh well, it had to be done I guess, I mean, it was just getting stupid. But whatever, life's good.
Boom Buppa Boom Ba Boom Ba Boom Boom (The sound a good electronica track makes)
Julia
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Herpegonosyphilaids.
(Sound it out, it's funny)
(Haha, hooray for immaturity)
(I think I have this...)
(Just Kidding)
(No really, I'm kidding)
(Why are you backing away slowly?)
(Come back! Please come back)
(Aww.. )
SO. Blogger. It's been a grand 3 days since I've posted, I think that's a new record excluding when I went to China. I think I should post less often anyway, I mean, I have only so much I can say without getting obnoxious. Unless you few and foreign followers simply adore me and are going to respond to this post by saying "Oh Julia, we love you more than ice cream, you could never get obnoxious!" to which I will say "Bullshit." and then proceed to prove you wrong, muahahaha.
Anywho.
I discovered the wonderful world of podcasts today. I don't really know why, but I downloaded like 17 of them, and then listened to every single one. I painted my nails and drew a picture. I like listening to people talk I suppose. Maybe that's why I'm such a speech/debate nerd.
Speaking of which, yesterday I competed at a tournament, thought I did well, and and ended up being one fucking point away from getting a trophy. I was in a bit of a baby-punching mood for the rest of the night, even the glorious french fries at Red Robin couldn't cure my furious melancholy. I hate the feeling of so close, but yet so far.
Anyway, I'm currently in the process of becoming irate at Mwb. Ugh. Make up your damn mind, you silly boy!
I want to go to the aquarium...
Poof (the sound a rmance makes as it disappears)
Julia
(Haha, hooray for immaturity)
(I think I have this...)
(Just Kidding)
(No really, I'm kidding)
(Why are you backing away slowly?)
(Come back! Please come back)
(Aww.. )
SO. Blogger. It's been a grand 3 days since I've posted, I think that's a new record excluding when I went to China. I think I should post less often anyway, I mean, I have only so much I can say without getting obnoxious. Unless you few and foreign followers simply adore me and are going to respond to this post by saying "Oh Julia, we love you more than ice cream, you could never get obnoxious!" to which I will say "Bullshit." and then proceed to prove you wrong, muahahaha.
Anywho.
I discovered the wonderful world of podcasts today. I don't really know why, but I downloaded like 17 of them, and then listened to every single one. I painted my nails and drew a picture. I like listening to people talk I suppose. Maybe that's why I'm such a speech/debate nerd.
Speaking of which, yesterday I competed at a tournament, thought I did well, and and ended up being one fucking point away from getting a trophy. I was in a bit of a baby-punching mood for the rest of the night, even the glorious french fries at Red Robin couldn't cure my furious melancholy. I hate the feeling of so close, but yet so far.
Anyway, I'm currently in the process of becoming irate at Mwb. Ugh. Make up your damn mind, you silly boy!
I want to go to the aquarium...
Poof (the sound a rmance makes as it disappears)
Julia
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Tickle My Fancy
And I mean that in the dirtiest way possible, I sincerely do.
Kidding!
Not that I'm one to subscribe to society's predisposed views of women and how we're supposed to be codependent and need men in our lives (just think Bella Swan...) and want to get married and have 6 children and cook dinner every night, but I kind of need a boyfriend. Dear God that sounds desperate. Ok, I don't need one. In fact, a boyfriend is probably the last I need. Honestly, after my recent shenanigans involving boys whom I'm not dating, I should probably just abstain from that entire half of the world's population for a while. *coughMwbcough*
I mean, obviously I don't need a dude to 'complete me' cuz that's bullshit and people like that have no spines. Proven scientific fact. They just sort of flop around on the ground because they have no vertebrae...
Hah. Weird image.
Anyway, I don't need a guy to call my own, I just want one is all. I've been single for a good eight months (not including silly 1-week losses of judgement) and I think I'm ready to try again. Here's my dilemma: There are no cute, interesting boys in Hicktown. There are cute boys. There are interesting boys. but there are no cute and interesting boys.
It's rather tragic. I need a new boy to waste time on!!
Boop beep boop (the sound a robot makes)
Julia
Kidding!
Not that I'm one to subscribe to society's predisposed views of women and how we're supposed to be codependent and need men in our lives (just think Bella Swan...) and want to get married and have 6 children and cook dinner every night, but I kind of need a boyfriend. Dear God that sounds desperate. Ok, I don't need one. In fact, a boyfriend is probably the last I need. Honestly, after my recent shenanigans involving boys whom I'm not dating, I should probably just abstain from that entire half of the world's population for a while. *coughMwbcough*
I mean, obviously I don't need a dude to 'complete me' cuz that's bullshit and people like that have no spines. Proven scientific fact. They just sort of flop around on the ground because they have no vertebrae...
Hah. Weird image.
Anyway, I don't need a guy to call my own, I just want one is all. I've been single for a good eight months (not including silly 1-week losses of judgement) and I think I'm ready to try again. Here's my dilemma: There are no cute, interesting boys in Hicktown. There are cute boys. There are interesting boys. but there are no cute and interesting boys.
It's rather tragic. I need a new boy to waste time on!!
Boop beep boop (the sound a robot makes)
Julia
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
In Time-Out
When I was little and I did bad stuff, I'd have to stand in the corner, facing the wall for ten minutes. I wasn't allowed to sit, I wasn't allowed to turn around, and I wasn't allowed to touch the wall. Naturally, I did all three when my mother wasn't looking, returning to the official time-out position like a ninja every time she would glance over to check on me. I was a bit of a con artist as a child, so I didn't get put in time-out very often, but when I did, I would bend every possible rule to make it less of a punishment.
These days it's a little different. I do something bad and get written up, or sent to the counseling office, or have to stay after class becuase a teacher wants me to apologize to someone for saying something. It's all very elementary-esque.
"You hurt So-and-so's feelings, and they would appreciate an apology."
"Then they can ask for one themself."
"That's not an apology, Julia."
"I am aware."
"Say you're sorry to So-and-so."
"But I'm not."
*glare*
"I'm sure if So-and-so wants an apology, then they want a sincere one. I can't do that right now."
"Just apologize and go."
"I guess I'm sorry."
"Apologize the right way."
"I just did, what more do you want? A fucking hug?"
*at this point So-and-so is reduced to tears, so I just leave*
Is there a right way to apologize? Was there ever a wrong way? I said the two required words, that should be enough. I mean, an apology is just the ends without the means. I could say sorry a billion times and she'd still be crying and feeling sorry for herself, so why waste the breath?
I guess I'm a bad kiddo. Maybe I just don't understand the sensitivty thing correctly. When someone makes a sarcastic remark about my weight (or lack thereof), nerdiness, hair color, or religion it stings for a millisecond and then I'm over it and laughing with the group. Why is it that I make one (really, it was only one) rude remark about this girl's chlamydia and she goes crying to teacher? Am I the only one who finds that reaction incredibly juvenile? Please, let me know if I am, I'd appreciate it. Maybe I'll go stand in time-out for a while until I feel bad about saying hurtful things to others.
Ah well. At least I've still got my con artist ninja abilities.
Waka-tshhh! (the sound punishment by whiplash makes, bahaha)
Julia
These days it's a little different. I do something bad and get written up, or sent to the counseling office, or have to stay after class becuase a teacher wants me to apologize to someone for saying something. It's all very elementary-esque.
"You hurt So-and-so's feelings, and they would appreciate an apology."
"Then they can ask for one themself."
"That's not an apology, Julia."
"I am aware."
"Say you're sorry to So-and-so."
"But I'm not."
*glare*
"I'm sure if So-and-so wants an apology, then they want a sincere one. I can't do that right now."
"Just apologize and go."
"I guess I'm sorry."
"Apologize the right way."
"I just did, what more do you want? A fucking hug?"
*at this point So-and-so is reduced to tears, so I just leave*
Is there a right way to apologize? Was there ever a wrong way? I said the two required words, that should be enough. I mean, an apology is just the ends without the means. I could say sorry a billion times and she'd still be crying and feeling sorry for herself, so why waste the breath?
I guess I'm a bad kiddo. Maybe I just don't understand the sensitivty thing correctly. When someone makes a sarcastic remark about my weight (or lack thereof), nerdiness, hair color, or religion it stings for a millisecond and then I'm over it and laughing with the group. Why is it that I make one (really, it was only one) rude remark about this girl's chlamydia and she goes crying to teacher? Am I the only one who finds that reaction incredibly juvenile? Please, let me know if I am, I'd appreciate it. Maybe I'll go stand in time-out for a while until I feel bad about saying hurtful things to others.
Ah well. At least I've still got my con artist ninja abilities.
Waka-tshhh! (the sound punishment by whiplash makes, bahaha)
Julia
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