The Best of this year.

*sighs*  Yes. I know, very cliche.  But, as it says, here is the best of 2012. Moses style.

*being a taste tester Christmas day at Oma's*
Me: It tastes like strawberry marshmallows.
Dad: (quoting Better Off Dead) It has raisins in it.
Mom, Dad and I: You like raisins.
Grandpa Fred *stares at the can*: There aren't any raisins in it.

"It got hit by car!"
"No, it just fell down."

"You have nothing to lose... But your pride! FARKLE!"

"Same on Christmas day, you'll be shitting rainbows that day too."

"Dude, I think this is real."
"Then she's a not a bad actor, just a bad person." 
-Beavis and Butthead

Alisa:"He looks Puerto Rican."
Mom:"When have you ever seen a Puerto Rican?"
Alisa:"They're all over Stanwood."
Mom:"There are not!"
Alisa:"Well, there's lots of Mexicans."
Mom:"One day, you're going to get hit."

"What do I do?"
"Nothing dear, you're not qualified."

Cailin:"Ooh! This is a great song." 
Mom:"No, its not." 
Cailin:"Thats why you're here, just to contradict me."

"Santa Claus doesnt bring presents to models."

"I grew up next to a girl named Taylor. She was a dumb bitch."

Mom on the phone: Yeah, yeah, they're engineers!
Me thinking to self: Trust me. I'm an engineer.

"Use your words Hayley."
"I'm trying!"

"Because he can't take life by the balls and deal with his problems without drugs! I'm making my rage quit faces Cole!" My rage quit faces!

"I hit myself in the face with a rake and it hurt less than teaching this class." 

Oh god of homework I beseech you! I give up. I'm going to do my homework.

"What are those?" 
"Chinese checkers."
"Oh… I thought they were candy. I was going to eat one."

"I just like you in a hat."
Dad:"So you're saying you don't like my hair." 
Alisa: "Wow, he just pulled a woman on you."
Mom: "Are you going to make me a sandwich?"

 "Basically, Portugal is like Spain... Only not."

"Whats a crinkle? Is that some sort of birth defect?"

"These papers make me feel imporant."

"Senators are crusty old men with dirty underwear!"

"Hayley, will you pinch my nipple?"
"No!"
"Why won't anyone just pinch my nipple?!"
"Every family member says they hate each other... I never said I actually do."
-Meg to PJ

Me: "Calm your tits."
Cole: "These tits can't be calmed."

"What happened? Are you transmitting the meaning of the universe Karin?" 


"So dizzy..."
"What's wrong?"
"No idea. Music makes it go away for the most part. 
i blame aliens sending wavelengths into my brain giving me vertigo."

"That was fun."
"How was that fun?"
"We got lost."
"We were'nt lost. I just took us to the wrong hospital."

"You even have a puke bucket! And its pink!"

"Number one: girls can't fart. Number two: if they do, not on my bed."

"... Whatever. Shirts are for pussies." -Alisa

"My thanksgiving started when Besta took the phone from PJ and held it upside down saying: No one's there!"

"Apparently being afraid of Steve Jobs riding a bicycle is perfectly understandable."

"Is someone crying in there or are you listening to opera!?" 
"Opera!!!!"
*intense laughter from alis and I*
Mom: "What a strange answer."
"Turn off the damn opera!!!" 
This is why I enjoy being related to my family.

"Some people I just want to stab."
"You continually tell me this."
"I'm practicing my stabbing motions."

"16 Camano, there is a rogue cow in the road."

"No reading real books is not an option."

"Put your hand down before I tear it off and beat you with it!" 

Me: You couldnt get the chocolate to melt could you? 
Alisa: Shut the fuck up.







I don't know how to fix the white highlight glitch there. 

Some questions.

  Why is it, that parents tend to blame things on each other? Dad said Mom suggested it, Mom said she had no part in it. And my computer profile time limits are still fucked up. My other sisters, can go onto their profiles any time they want. Mine? It goes from ten in the morning to one in the afternoon. Dad said, it was so the other girls would get a chance on the computer. I said, that I wasn't on the computer all day, and this wasn't giving me the opportunity to be on the computer. Basically, I said that it's bull shit, and not fucking fair. Yesterday, I took the opportunity to change it to nine in the morning to midnight, so I had a fair chance on the computer. I woke up this morning, and it was back the way it was. Of course I confronted dad all pissed off like, and I'm going to do it again today until it's fixed. Because this isn't very fair. School is coming up soon, and some homework needs to be typed, and it's a pain in the ass to use other people's accounts. When I am forced to, they get all pissy with me, and I hate it. Yes, I installed Minecraft and Scratch. No, I haven't pirated anything for a long long time. Which is what they decided to use against me. Minecraft and Scratch is not going to hurt the goddamn computer. Which is what they're always using as a trump card, that's useless.

A photo of my cousin.

This my cousin and she is in the military on her way to Afghanistan. She asked me to blur out her face on the id card so she doesn't get into trouble.

Thinking about stuff.

WELL. My dad refuses to buy aspirin. I threw a bit of a fit because at the time(I know this is too much info but whatever) I had cramps fairly badly, and it felt like the base of my spine was swelling and about to implode. I told him(at the time, I figured aspirin was the same thing as acetaminophen) that I would rather take one Tylenol than six to seven Kirkland brand ibuprofen in one day. He refuses to buy Midol as well, even though the Extended Relief stuff has Naproxen Sodium in it, which has nothing to do with aspirin and works awesomely. SO, obviously, when I get my own money, I am going to buy lots of Midol, the Teen stuff, Extended Release, and PM stuff. The PM stuff so when I get woken up at 3 in the morning I take one and will fall asleep and feel much better. ANYWAYS.

I really hope I get the job. It would be awesome if I do, and start getting money to spend on general stuff. Like clothes, and an awesome birthday present for Spencer. He says he just wants to go out to dinner and spend the day with me. Which I am perfectly happy with. I will have to find the nicest restaurant in Stanwood, or simply just get Curtis to dress up like an epic shauffuer and drive us out of Stanwood and to someplace better. Because... Stanwood sucks. The nicest place I know of is a Mexican restaurant but, that might as well do, dress up in a nice skirt, and take him out the day before his birthday. Because his birthday is on a monday. Yes. A monday. My birthday is on a wednesday, so I get to sleep in late, and try to hide from the world and my teachers that it is not my birthday. Which is going to be hard, because my friends are generally assholes when it comes to birthdays. I am one too. So, no judgement. That is why going and making a GIANT deal about Spencer's seventeenth birthday the day before will make it so I will keep it on the downlow about his birthday. WAIT A MINUTE.  If the 21st wasn't a friday, I would take him out that day. Because that day, is the day that we have set for our wedding. That's coming in about four years' time so chill people. And, he would think, that that was the awesomest birthday present ever. I might as well check out when his 18th birthday is, and try and do it then. FUCK YEAH! September 21st, 2013. Is a saturday. That. Is truly awesome. Well, I'm thinking of adding another colorful Adventures on LSD sometime later today. If I get bored-I mean creative enough.

I'm off to read about Ben Holiday and his adventures in Landover. (Terry Brooks, Magic Kingdom For Sale-Sold!)

First Interview! And Secret Shopper.

Before my foot goes numb entirely, I have a few things to say.
Recently, I got an email offering to be a "secret shopper". Call me stupid, but I replied, and agreed n stuff, and I'm supposed to get something in the mail... I'm going to check it out, and if it looks fishy by any means. I'll throw it away, and never look back. The thingy is supposed to come on Saturday, so, I'm going to look inside, and definitely see if all the checks or whatever are legit. Or not. If they are, I dunno what to do. If they aren't then good bye, and email google telling them about the scam. I've read a lot about the "Secret Shopper Scams" so I think I have an idea of what to look for if it doesn't seem right. I've looked into it A LOT. And, I still don't know what to make of this whole thing. It seems easy. But, you never know. I don't think I'm going to go through with it though, even if it is real.

ANYWHO. I have my first job interview tomorrow! It's at Merril Gardens, where my mom works, and I'm interviewing to be a part of their dining staff, being a waitress kind of person. I am super psyched! I have a nice outfit chosen, and am ready to go! I have read up some, on long term care dining staff, and I think I've got this. I guess it sort of sucks that it's at my mom's work but, it's a job. It pays money. I'll end up having two paychecks under my belt when school time comes around, and be able to Spencer a really nice present for his birthday. Mom says it's probably going to be part time work, which is okay with me. I'll be able to go do stuff, and Merril Gardens, serves shellfish from time to time, which is pretty kickass, since I like shellfish and am totes down with that. And, I think Merril Gardens pays pretty well. I'll have to look into that. My friend Nicole is absolutely positive that I'm going to get the job, and while having money to spend is going to be awesome, not having lots of downtime is going to be lamesauce. Wish me luck!

Justin Bieber. Fat people. Lazy people. Americans.

I don't feel like going in the order I put those things in, so, I'll start with..
Americans.
Americans are lazy. I'm not saying that other nations in the world don't have lazy people in them, it's just that the US has the most concentrated level of laziness. Because we are lazy fucks. That's it. Americans also feel the need to judge everyone they see. If you're a girl and have guy friends, you're a whore. If you're a guy with female friends, you're a player. If you dress well, you're conceited. If you wear clothes that are comfortable you're a slob. If you're bisexual or a lesbian, you're confused. If you're gay, you're going to go to hell. If you wear loose clothes, you're fat. If you're skinny, you're anorexic. If you have bags under your eyes, you're on drugs. If you cry, you're a drama queen. If you're nice to strangers, you're fake. We live in a society where it doesn't matter who you really are. You are labels. The thing is though, is that labels are stereotypes. And stereotypes exist because THEY ARE TRUE. Someone, somewhere fits that stereotype.  The problem with these stereotypes is, more than 90% of the population in the US, some billion or something people label people. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. It's ridiculous. I mean fuck, if you have a speech impediment, you're mentally retarded. If you fall asleep in class because you didn't sleep well and desperately need sleep, you're a slacker. If you don't turn your homework in, and get bad grades, not only are you a slacker, but you're stupid. America sucks. I really don't like so many people. I would say hate but, in this society, the word hate means nothing. It makes no impact. People joke about it. They go "I hate you" "Oh I hate you too." It's ridiculous. 
JUSTIN BIEBER
I didn't know that Justin Bieber was eighteen. Nuff said. I thought he was my little sister's age.

Fat and Lazy people.
I'm putting the two together because they generally go together in the first place. Biggest Loser, My 600 Lb Life, all that shit is dumb. And ridiculous. My middle younger sister is lazy. To the extreme. My two youngest sisters have a tiny room. It is constantly messy. And they have more storage equipment than anyone in the house. Or any part of the house. I will admit that my room isn't the cleanest, but I do intend to clean it at some point next week, because I need to gather laundry, and put clean laundry away.It could actually be a lot worse than it is now. My little sisters, except for Alisa, are complete slobs. My little sister Meghann has eczema. And she likes to sleep in the dirty clothes she wore the day before. And it makes her eczema worse. Yeah. Messed up.And gross.

Washington weather.

Washington  is going through a crisis. We're having thunder. And lightning. This, this is not normal. So as I sit here writing this, and eating pretzels and ranch, there is thunder. It came to a point a few times that the thunder shook the windows. Yeah. This has been going on for TWO DAYS. It's annoying as fuck. The thunder scares the dog. It's funny, yet I feel bad when I take him out for bathroom breaks. Or walkies. This SUCKS. Washington suddenly develops Texas weather. Nothing I knew of this weather is true anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well...

Well, this is my last day in photojournalism. My last day to dink around on the internet at school and use Photoshop CS5. Wow. This sucks. I'm all sad now. I never really wanted the school year to be over. Yeah yeah yeah I get to go to a wedding and possibly bring the love of my life along so he can FINALLY meet everybody. But, whey hey I guess. I'm all depressed now. Sure, I have photoshop at home but it's not the same, and I can't figure out how to change the view on photoshop elements to make it easier(and not so much of a pain in the ass) to use. Wow. This, really sucks. And I really have to pee. Lovely. 

Good Times

What exactly is the definition of good times now adays? For me, it used to mean Alisa and I went outside and played games, and watched movies like E.T., Cats Can't Dance, Winnie the Pooh, all the cool ones. Now... Good times are sitting around and drinking and smoking and doing drugs. Am I the only one that sees the problem here? I miss being able to go outside everyday and play with my sister and live in the little world that consisted of our yard. I miss my big box of Lego, and my Barbies and everything that made up that world. Something happened in the last twelve years. But, I don't know exactly what. I just know that it's wrong.

Lego!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My dad, says that we're all made out of the same box of Legos. (He was saying this to my sisters and I. At the time I was incredibly offended, where was I before I so rudely interrupted myself? Oh yeah..) While he was going on and on about us all being made from the same box of Legos I was thinking  that while Alisa and I were made from the same box, Meghann and PJ were made from a different box entirely. Thinking now, we're just made from different Lego Builder Sets. And, in my artist statement I wrote for our big final project, I decided to say that really, we're all made from the same box of Legos, just different Builder Sets. Sweet huh? Definitely an A there. 

Yaaay! We're back in business!

Adventures on LSD

#3: Welcome to Hell

ONCE upon a time, there were five friends(and some zombie-ninja-fairies), and they really liked to trip out. And, one day, they were just messing around, when they fell… Into a hole of doom. And they landed in a random forest in I-don’t-know-where. This, is James the Fucking Pixie, Harry the Unicorn, Jesus, Maurise the Narwahl, and I’s story. 
And, this story is called, Our Adventures on LSD. Story #3: Welcome to Hell. 

*         *          *

We were all hanging out one day (this was before our big adventure Welcome to Hell, but, really, I want to start before the story really begins), and decided to go trip out again. While we were chilling on the couch hearing colors, and seeing music, a big ass hole opened up. Naturally, James got up, and was all:
“Dude. What the fuck is that?” 
We all shrugged, and were all: “How the hell should we know?” 
Then, this random lady came out and pulled us all into the hole. And here we are now, sitting in the middle of a forest, in Bum-fuck-nowhere, lost as fuck. By the way, we use the f bomb a lot. 
  “Shit dude.”
“Woah.”
“Are you sure we’re still tripping?” I stand up.
“Guys, we are so totally not tripping. This is nuts. That hole of doom must’ve stolen our trip. Damn, that must be one hungry hole.” We’re all up and looking around this big ass forest. James the Fucking Pixie is floating as usual, two inches off the ground. 
KERSMASH! 
“HOLY SHIT!” 
Some random chick comes out, she’s hella short, and well, floating. Like James does.  What the fuck? She’s short, with black hair, and the same stick figurey type figure that James has. She looks at us all wide eyed. Then says (in utter bewilderment),
“JAMES!!! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?” 


All eyes go to James. Who’s looking too squeamish for words. She looks so pissed off, you have no idea. James sighs. He looks like he’s on the verge of a really long story I don’t exactly think I want to hear but, he starts on it anyways. 
“You guys… This is my cousin. Elena the Fucking Botanist.”
“Damn straight I am! You are in so much trouble mister, you need to get your ass back home right-” James interrupts her.
“ELENA. I am older than you. And the forest isn’t my home anymore. My home is with these guys,” he gestures to us. “And, I’m going to stay with them in California.” Wow, I didn’t think she could get anymore pissed but she is. 
 Maurise the Narwahl’s cage gets rattled and he says, all slowly and chill-like,
“What exactly happened here?” James sighs again. 
“I left the forest because I was tired of living here. And. . . Well, that’s not important.” I look around some more, and notice that this place looks kind of familiar and I can’t remember why. Elena the Fucking Botanist starts going on and on about some weird tangent saying that James is a prince. James motions for us all to head off behind him, and we walk and walk and walk, until we come across something that makes Elena the Fucking Botanist cringe. A tall plant, with magenta dots on the stem, and several braches of little clusters of white flowers.      
    She reaches for a knife at her waist. The plant has a sleeping face. 
Elena whispers, “The Beast of Poison Flowers.” 
“Pardon?” James, Harry the Unicorn, Maurise the Narwahl, Jesus and I say.
The “Beast of Poison Flowers doesn’t look so sleeping anymore… Come to think of it, it looks a little like hemlock. Poison hemlock. But, this stuff is controlled in the States. Okay so.. It’s not where we are but. . .
“When are we?” I ask. James looks a little sad. 
“About three hundred years into the past.” 
“Say what?” Elena the Fucking Botanist looks even more angry. 
“You went to the future!? How could you! You know that’s forbidden!”
“To goddamn bad Elena,” James looks over at Jesus and says, “No offense bro. Elena, I left because I wanted to. Not as some revenge or rebellion or anything. I left because I felt like it.” Elena puts her hands on her hips, and then. . . The poison hemlock speaks in a growly voice, that makes the ground rumble,
“A human has entered the forest, a human to be poisoned. A human and friends. The pixies are already dying, the human will only bring about the death to its race. A narwahl, a saint, a unicorn and a pixie, all coming along with the human from the future. A human brought us with it to the future, in the human past, and we easily took over. . . But I can smell that the human knows we did not prevail in devouring the humans. We will devour the pixies, and we will devour the humans. Do not underestimate us human, we know of your ways, and we know how to devour you, your race, and in the course of time we will devour your world. Just as we have done before, and as we will to this forest, this land of creatures unknown to the humans. You all disguise yourselves, the saint, the unicorn, the narwahl and the pixie, so you will remain left in peace. And as the clock continues clicking, the course of time will deceive you, and you will be thrown into a land of destruction.”
Elena the Fucking Botanist mutters,
  “Now you’ve done it.” and bolts in the opposite direction, actually flying, not floating as James usually does. He grabs my arm and says, 
“We should get going now.” He stops floating and picks me up, actually flying for once, and Jesus follows running in the air, and Maurise and Harry are just chilling floating with us. We stop after a few minutes, and then we land in a village. A village I know I’ve seen before. But. . . When? Oh well. Some old dude with a beard comes up to us, and Elena the Fucking Botanist is hovering behind him. James looks unaffected by the old dude. Even though the old dude looks kind of scary. And, the shouting begins.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WE WERE LOOKING FOR YOU! THAT HUMAN LURED YOU OUT OF THE FOREST WHERE YOU BELONG! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING ALL THIS TIME!? GETTING HIGH WITH THE SILLY GIRL BEHIND YOU? YOU BETTER TAKE YOUR PLACE AS PRINCE OR YOU WILL NOT TAKE IT BY CHOICE, IT WILL BE HANDED DOWN TO YOU AND YOU WILL! NOT! LEAVE! AGAIN!” 
James sighs, I really need to keep track of how often he sighs while we’re here.
“My answer to you is this, she did not lure me out of the forest. I left. I am not going to be prince. I am going to go back to California and be with my friends.” 
   The old guy motions to some armed dudes with neatos staffs. They stand around Harry, Maurise and Jesus. 
“They will leave, you and the human will stay.” He snaps his fingers and 
KABLAMO! 
They’re gone. What? What? Everyone seems to be staring holes through me. Is it what I’m wearing? I’m just wearing a blue t-shirt, and some jeans. I get why this is all so familiar. I’ve been here before… I remember falling through a hole, and finding myself in some random forest with some random guy looking down at me, and then he took me back to my house, and stayed. Oh, I see what happened. There’s a lot of shouting and what seems to be the same poison hemlock plant comes crashing into the village. Wonderful. You can see the roots, all gross like, with one root, that’s got purpley-red blotches on it. Gross. People are running and screaming, and then there’s me. Going, what the fuck is going on here? Because I really don’t know. There’s quite a few poison hemlock plants now, and I’m being pulled across the courtyard and into a tree. Since when do people hide inside trees? Aren’t you supposed to be up at the top? I look around, Elena the Fucking Botanist was the one who pulled me in here, and with an oomph! James is at the entrance guarding it. Elena looks like she’s about to fess up to something. 
“There’s. . . I, well, at the other end of the forest, in the really infested part, there’s the Mother Beast, the original plant that came here. It might be able to help us, some dwarves came through earlier, saying that a huge beast had helped them get rid of a problem, and that the beast was at the far eastern edge of the forest, little did we know. . . All they did was move their problem to our forest.” 
“James.”
“Yes?”
“I have a feeling that there’s an adventure landing on our faces.”
*         *                  *                *                   *           *


   And so we set off, wandering through the forest with a poorly drawn map, and an incentive. Elena gave us her journal where she had written down notes about the poison hemlock plants. There’s notes on how there’s a strong enough toxicity to kill in high doses, and that every part of the plant is poisonous, particularly  the root, and she wrote about how at first the plants looked like wild carrots, and they picked the baby plants and ate them, and that’s when people started dying. The biochemistry of the plant is too strange to mention. The notes are very good. It says that the plants can get up to ten feet tall, and the stems are completely hairless. This is very confusing. We’ve been traveling  for three days, avoiding getting eaten by the poison hemlock(the plant mutated and will eat people, that’s what you get for living in an enchanted pixie world), and finally making it to the original poison hemlock plant. It’s HUGE I mean GIGANTIC. 
It’s just insanely big. It looks like it’s sleeping, until we approach it, and in a very deep, grumbling voice it says, 
“Let the human step forward first. She knows what we really are, she knows more than the botanist. Don’t worry child, I will not harm you, unlike my children I do not hunger for flesh, I am content with the sun, the air and the water, my children are unlike me. You wish to know how to get rid of us, it is a very long, harsh path. It takes years, and much dedication, as the clock continues clicking the botanist will find a way. But, for now, you are going home, with the Prince of the pixies. Botanist come here. . . I will show you how to get rid of us, so no more harm can be done to your people.” And, there’s another hole we fall into, the forest swirls and looks creepy, then James and I crash land into the couch. 
“That was one crazy adventure.” 
“But, for once, it wasn’t actually an Adventure on LSD was it? I don’t know. I just don’t know.” 

That was our crazy adventure into the past. And, we have no idea why it happened. We’ve all changed, well, James and I have, he and I are closer after that REALLY LONG ASS WALK through the forest. Fun right? No. Not at all. 






I think it's okay, it could use some more character development but, whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Return of the Adventures on LSD Cast!

WELL Adventures on LSD is back! OKAY OKAY maybe not today, but soon. 
Let me explain.


In science, we are studying weeds. And, we had to choose a weed, and then research it, then write a story, create pictures, and then put it all into a powerpoint. I chose poison hemlock. And, naturally, I had to create an LSD adventure for you guys. James the Fucking Pixie, Harry the Unicorn, Jesus, Jesus' zombie-ninja-fairies, me, and Maurise the Narwahl are back! With some  new friends, James' family, The Fucking Pixie clan, his cousin, Elena the Fucking Botanist, and a few others you get to meet later. And, OF COURSE naturally it has to be informational. Which sucks. BUT I'm definitely going to have fun with this. Today, in photojournalism. Because I'm badass like that.

Hmmm. I haven't posted in a while, so I figure I'll let Josh know what's up.

SO I don't exactly really want to go to the engagement party. I just don't. I have a final to work on and I won't know many of the people there. Maddi, Aimee and I constructed a plan. I will go, BUT I will have headphones and music on me to ignore them all if I get stuck in a corner by myself. In a sorta fuck-you-all-you're-lame thing. Because, I'd rather rock out to music than pretend to not care about standing around in a group of people at the zoo by myself. Just figured I'd let you know what's up Josh. If you have any advice on this email me!!!! 

Oh yeah, it's on saturday, and I haven't asked my mom yet.

I Hate Cyclists!

Well, I don't like exactly hate them, I just kinda, yknow, get annoyed with them.

Anyway, I Hate Cyclists is actually a song, made in six minutes by my friend Stephen Pillola. And every sound you hear in the song, is from the sound his voice makes through a box fan. Yeah. It's that intense.

I never want to sleep ever again.

Have you ever had a dream so scary that you never wanted to sleep ever again?

I have. Just last night. And a few times before.

I'll start with the dream I had before last night's dream. So, in my dream, I was a paranormal investigator. Along with an older librarian, and some Brit guy. And, we were looking for ghosts in some really reaaaaalllly really old house. Now, I was on some stairs, and then, the Brit guy got possessed and was beating the living unicycles out of the librarian. And then me. I woke up, and hid under my blankets. And refused to even look at the clock. Or have my feet hanging out from my bed.  I was terrified. 


So... This next one... From last night... I actually kind of don't want to talk about it. 

Relaxation time.

I'm not entirely too sure what to write today, so I just decided about two seconds ago to compile a list of lists. Here goes! 

THINGS I TOTALLY DIG

1.) Tall guys.

2.) Friends who I can talk to about private type stuff (sex, etc.) and who won't get weirded out and go "Enough now." When I'm all like, dude, I want to talk about this to you 'cause I trust you. 

3.) Guys who have dark brown hair, that's medium long, wavy-ish at the top, a cow-lick bit at the back, and copper highlights (okay so what I'm being picky but I rate guys from 1 to Spencer okay? Nuff said.)

4.) Homemade apple sauce, that's fresh and warm and totally awesome because it was made from real apples about ten minutes ago.

5.) Cheesecake. With cherries drizzled over it. 

6.) Books, good books. 

7.) Laying around in the sun in shorts and a tank top, reading and being totally chill and peaceful.

8.) Anything I consider to be legit. Such as: cake mix cookies, good friends, chocolate chips cookies, going to the library and enjoying the peace and quiet, etc etc.

9.) Getting nice compliments, not the general "you're sexy" from random guys but ones like what Mom said yesterday, "Thanks for helping out today, it was nice working in the kitchen with you." 

A TOTALLY LEGIT IN-DEPTH GUY RATING         SCALE.

Smile:

Personality:

Figure:

Hair:

Trustworthiness:

Body Comfortability*:

*I.E. would you feel totally comfortable in a bikini when he's around?

Secrets (as in, can you  tell him absolutely anything and everything?): 

Uhm.... I forgot the rest, Aimee and I made it up a while back, and it's in my last diary somewhere. 

CHUMS AND CHUMMETTES

   In order of closeness

GIRLS:                                                       GUYS:

1.) Paige                                                                                         1.) Spencer

2.) Aimee                                                                                         2.) James? Ish.

3.) Maddi & Mariah                                                                  3.) Mike. Well, not really he gets 

4.)Alisa, my sis                                                                                  the whole epilepsy thing.

5.) Hmm... That's it.                                             

WELL, I'm kind of bored of lists and want to make a collection of trolls on photoshop and download stuff from youtube. So, 

s'laters!

Doing junk.... Hahaha not.

So, I started this, about thirty minutes ago. And, it's been open for thirty minutes just blank. No writing so, now there's writing. Because, there's that little to do. 

And The Spoon Jumped Over The Moon

Today has a weird title, because I'm feeling weird. I don't know why I'm feeling weird. I just.... Am. I have recently gotten waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayinto the old cartoon Animaniacs. And, I love to quote it and be funny and go hahahaha look at my funniness.

Animaniacs has the perfect balance of violence, educational quality, and really subtle dirty jokes. It's fucking awesome. See? I even swore online on my little blog because it's so awesome. And, I don't necessarily need to swear, but the word seemed to fit at the time. SO LOOK IT UP PEOPLE. IT'S GOOD! YEAH!

"Good night everybody!"

Calling Captain Smartass, and her worst decisions.

I am not always the nicest person. I can get pretty mean when someone is frustrating me and I've just had enough of it, and eventually, yes, I will become the trigger happy Queen Bitch. That, happened last night. At first I was just trying to convey my point of view, and got a little frustrated because Ann wasn't listening to me. She's decided to drop out of high school and get a GED instead. Sure, yeah whatever good for you, but really, that's only impressive when you get it when you're sixteen or something around that age. At eighteen... Not so much. Basically I tried proving my point and pulled the f-bomb a couple of times, and in the end, pulled a reference to Animaniacs. This is what I said at the end, (pretty much at least) "Pray tell Ann, what is your plan? .... While we sit and watch our brain cells die one-by-one. We're dying to know." 


Witness the return of Captain Smartass. With a side of bitchyness. 
That was not my best line. Or really, best decision. I do feel bad about the last bit I wrote, but really, I could have said much worse. But, I didn't and I'm really glad that I didn't. 


However, I did take things way too far, I've been frustrated with things recently, and bothered  by others and I took it out on Ann which was not the smartest, or sanest, idea. After Kecia yelling at me over facebook and rereading my comments, I feel bad. I agree with Kecia. I took things way too far. I don't know everything and it's not my situation. I have my own situation and I guess I should focus more on that.  


I've never been the best at apologizing, mostly because I'm stubborn and don't like budging very much from my morals of what I think is right and wrong. And, if I were better at apologizing I would apologize in person, BUT Ann isn't on the Island anymore so I can't. I guess I can email her instead, and post this on her wall which is a really chickenshit way of apologizing. But, it's what I've got, and all I can do really. 


Here's off to apologizing and not being so... Er, me. Which, is going to be hard to do. Wish me luck. 

Ridiculous Languages. And just people in general.

Ridiculous languages. German. Japanese. And, uhm, languages other than English. 


   See, the Germans say spangleferkel and knutschen and ja ja ja. The Japanese say hai! horahrareeechinzu! Or. . . Well, I don't know what they say. I just know that it's weird. And, er, stupid. 


Ridiculous people. People I know: Ann. People I don't know: Shewhomustnotbenamed. OKAY I do know shewhomustnotbenamed. But, I just pretend not to so I can just ignore her. NUFF SAID.


Ann. Ann stropped out of her house after she, and her parents got into a fight not so long ago. Alis and I figure she's going to come running home. She's eighteen. Okay yeah so what? She hasn't finished high school. So, uhm, she can't get a job really. My mom knows the head kitchenytypeguy at Merrill Gardens so I have a higher chance of being hired and making cashola. She's staying with Kecia and them and I highly doubt they are going to let her stay because, well, if she can't get a job she can't help for rent and groceries. Would you let someone stay with you if they wouldn't be able to pitch in and pay for junk? I would'nt. 


Shewhomustnotbenamed. Ugh. Nuff said.

School is officially a waste of my time.

I tried, I honestly tried when I retook the Algebra End of Course exam. See, I failed freshman year when I first took it. The passing score is 400. I got 364. In January I retook it, and felt I did really well, I got my results today.....


I failed. Again. What. The. Hell. I did better sure, I got 388. But, now I have to take it again. And again and again until I pass it. Unless I pass the Geometry End of Course exam. This is bullshit. This is... This is.. This is Nazi Germany!* Now, I am really sick and tired of being sick and tired of school. Honestly, I find it a waste of my time. I never seem to be able to do particularly well in my classes, except for ones that I particularly enjoy(world history, photojournalism, etc). 


The thing that has been biting my ass in school and ruining things for me is the end of course exams. I don't know how well I did on the HSPE (the WASL under a new name) but, I hope I did better than on my retake of the Algebra EOC. This is just pointless. I sit in a class that I don't even need for what I'm going to do with my5 life. I'm going to be a florist not a rocket scientist. Which is why I'm taking personal and global finance next year. Screw Algebra, I'm going to learn how to keep track of my finances and do my taxes properly. One of my friend's sisters has her dad doing her taxes and she's twenty-four. I don't want my Mom having to do that it's not very fair. And, really, taxes shouldn't be that hard. 


School is officially a waste of my time. And really? I don't care what you think. Because you can just
Shut up I'm talking.

...

I honestly do not know what to write about today. I intended to write something funny or witty but there is just nothing really particularly funny to write about. And, I really doubt you want to hear about the HIV/AIDS assembly we had in first period. I think so, only because it was just so ridiculous. 


So, of course, I am going to tell you any way. 
   
In the state of Washington, this stupid law says that in high school, every year you have to learn about sexually transmitted diseases (or STIs as they call them now).  So, once a year, every year I have to sit through an assembly that is so pointless and ridiculous that I might as well die. I won't die, and when I say every year, I mean freshman health, sophomore, jun, sen. I almost feel bad for the speaker....


Mariah Stork and I were sitting next to each other in the PAC (performing arts center) up in the upper levels marveling at the wonders of how to prevent HIV/AIDS and pregnancy and various other infection, diseases whatever. Ms/Mrs. Knott (not joking) the Church Creek Campus/Lincoln Hill High School nurse was the speaker for this lovely entertainment. She was doing her best, but kept stuttering and pronouncing things wrong and misreading things. Comedy gold. I decided to further our entertainment with a running commentary. Beautiful right? The assembly just went on and on and on. There really isn't much to say about my commentary. It wasn't very funny really. 
     Unlike the mental running commentary I had going when dad was lecturing us older girls because the little girls had run off. 
Dad: "What am I supposed to do now?"
Me: *inwardly* Give us shot guns and handguns and hope for the best! 
I thought it was funny. And, I don't really care if you don't. At the beginning when Dad first started talking I was pretending to be ballet-ing around  the room. It was quite entertaining. I can't remember half of what he said. Which is great, because if I did, I probably would have a head full of mush instead of a brain.

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!

I'M THIS AWESOME.

OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!

I DID IT! IT'S POSSIBLE YESSSSSSSSSSSS! YES! YES! 
Okay long story short: I want to get into a really nice floral school and might be able to do running start and ahhhhhhh!!!!!!! I just need to talk to my principal and yes!!!!!!!!!! NNNNNnnnnnnNNN!!! I might be able to have a Certified Advanced Floral Degree when I'm just eighteen. KICK ASS RIGHT!? And then be a wedding specialist when I'm nineteen. AHHHH!!! THIS IS GREAT! Obviously I am crazy excited. I am going to meet Mr. Milnes my career advisor whateveryou'resupposedtocallit tomorrow and discuss this and KICK SOME ASS and get back to FDI and feel AWESOME. Because they're all for it. It just depends if the program is for it y'know? No, me neither. Anyways, who cares what other people say, they can 
Shut up, because I'm talking now. 

Josh's post on Perspectives: Fight

Josh got me thinking, about all the really bad stuff I've dealt with. Okay not just some "really bad stuff" some real nasty shit. And when I say that I mean it. It wasn't fun, and as Josh said in his post, it's like a big haze, nothing feels real. Well, he doesn't say that but that's what it was like for me. It was just this maze, a confusing ball of feelings and a sickness kind of. A medicine induced sickness. Now, I mean it when I say medicine induced, I explained the whole story to my neurologist and he confirmed my worst fears. 


  For the longest time, I used to hurt myself, I called myself names, and just gave up on life, I had no hope. None at all. It was horrible, like drowning, no matter how hard you try you can't get it. It's like the worst kind of drowning. The kind of drowning where you're trapped inside a car. Hurting yourself, physically, is like a car crash,  the same kind of car crash as drug abuse. It's terrifyingly addictive. I would know. I used to, I bear scars on my right wrist from it. There's a mantra that people who are like me, people I used to be like have: 
      Across the street not down the road. 
Across the street. Across the wrist. Safe cutting. Well, no it's not safe at all, you can mess up using a shaving razor and I did and it was terrifying. 
Down the road. Suicidal cutting. Down the road references the pathway of your veins. On my wrist you can see a little bump from the scar tissue. I could never forget it if I tried. Hurting yourself wears you out mentally, you sleep like a baby afterwards and it's a horrible thing. It takes a lot out of person, to actually bring yourself to take a razor to your skin and dig it inside of your body. It's gruesome and horrible and thank whoever your god is for not having to witness it.  
   And, for those of you reading this who hurt yourselves, I know that you're hurting, but think of the people who are close to you. I almost lost my best friend from those two springs that I was hurting myself. It's really quite an unattractive sight. I got lucky. For having such wonderful friends n junk. I know goopy silly romantic blah blah dribble dribble arse bull. But, they're pretty cool people and erm, yeah. Luckily for me, all of that haze, the depression was medicine induced. Spring is my growing period. And with some medications when your hormones get all wacky because of a growth spurt side effects from medications show up. Mine? I got depression. And hopelessness. Looking back, I didn't actually want to kill myself. It just seemed like an answer to stop all that. Luckily, my doctor noticed when we told him everything and he said what I was fearing: my medication was messing with my head. Making me reckless and compulsive and messing with my moods. 

I'm switching meds now which is good... I guess. Who cares? Well... I probably should more than I do. 
Well... 
      Shut up I'm talking.

My blog audience.

Well, hm. According to the stats thingy on my blogger dashboard people in Russia have been reading my posts. I guess I'll have to start using the conversion dealio. Fun right? Sorta. I'm learning Russian actually. Which is going to be awesome when I master the language and talk to my children in Russian and have them learn English as a second language. Well, pick up some Russian while they're little and then still be able to speak English around relatives. Pretty neat. Although for the English part my dad would understand them because it was my dad who got me interested in learning Russian. I know систер (sestra) and most numbers один два трее четырех пять шесть семь восемь девять дыесят (one two three four five six seven eight nine ten or a-deen dva tree che-tireh pyat shest syem vosem devyat desyat) SO now I am going to copy and paste this and turn it into Russian and decipher it, copy and paste the whole thing and practice. Sweet. 


Руссиан:
Хорошо, хм согласно статистика всего в моем Blogger приборной панели людей в России было чтение моей должности. Я думаю, что мне придется начать использовать dealio конверсии. Развлечения право? Не. I' m обучения российской действительности. который будет иметь колоссальные тогда, когда я овладеть языком и говорить на моих детей на русском языке и их изучения английского языка как второго языка. Хорошо, типа "пикап" некоторых российских хотя они уже мало, а затем еще будет возможность выступить английский вокруг родственников. Довольно вол.

Я надеюсь, что вам понравилось мое английского на русский язык.Спасибо за чтение.      

All alone. On my own.

Well, today-as the title says-I'm all alone on my own. It's a weird feeling. Just writing about it is giving me goosebumps. Needless to say, it's always weird to be on your own in a house even if you've lived there for years. It's just a creepy feeling. You over-react to everything even if it turns out to be nothing. I know this, because it happened to me earlier. After my mom and sisters first left, I was just hanging out and then I SWEAR TO JESUS'S FLYING UNICYCLE SOMEONE WAS AT THE DOOR. I checked at least four times. It was most likely just the baby chicks pecking at the bottom of their cage but who cares it was scary as FUCK. So, I'm home by myself, and everybody's out doing shit. But, oh well, this is how it usually is anyways. I said there never would be any room in Kecia's car ever, and it keeps proving itself again and again. The thing with Kecia and her car and shit is that every weekend Spencer, and Ann and all them go out with Kecia and I told Spencer there would never be any room in her car for me to go with them places. He said that it wasn't true. I went once. And so far, that's been it. Yeah yeah yeah I feel left out whatever. Yada yada yada. I mean really? I don't care too much. I miss Spencer and really, that's about all that happens. Sure, feeling left out sucks, but, there's Paige. And Paige is more fun to hang out with anyways. We were talking earlier about her coming over and us writing a play about sex where the only costume was nudity. She's busy this afternoon, but there's always the rest of this week. It's... Thursday. And, school doesn't start again until Monday. That's a couple of days. And, I could always start writing the script and have Paige come over when she isn't busy and we'll put on fake mustaches and accents and finish the script. See, I think good ideas. We might even wear monocles. Because, we are geniuses and geniuses are we. If that's something a genius would say... Oh well! Who cares? I certainly don't. I mean... Me? A real genius? Hahahahah try certifiably insane. And you're more on the right track. I mean, honestly. I don't really care too much for school. I could be doing bigger and better things than reading about the Holocaust and memorizing triangles and all the shit we've been learning about. I could be out learning about floral design instead of memorizing plant names. I mean, come on there's more to the work world than what the school's think we need to know. There's a lot that they teach us that is absolutely un-neccessary  to what we actually need to know. School is shit. That's final. I don't need to know about the square root of pi to be a florist. It's not applicable to what I will be doing. Shapes and junk yeah definitely. But I don't really need to know any math beyond algebra uno. And, once again I am RAMBLING!!! WOOH! THANK YOU! 


     Well, just as I said last time.... It is a matter of life or death. Wait... That's not really what I said. Ah yes, it was...
Shut up I'm talking.

Fire Drills. Bomb Threats.

I don't know if I've mentioned last year's bomb threats at school, but they've been on my mind today so let's talk. Last year, in a bathroom stall, someone had written something down about a bomb and the school took it as a bomb threat. They went the whole nine yards with it. Police. Fire department. Everything!  It happened FIVE TIMES. Five times of: lockdowns, boredom, standing outside for ages. Yeah, you'd get annoyed too. Our school fire drills are pointless. You stand around on a field for five minutes then go back inside. What on earth is the point of that? It's required by law too. I mean, what in the name of Jesus's flying novelty unicycle is the point of that? I don't get it. I understand that in the event of a real fire or real earthquake (mais oui we still "duck and cover" too.) or a real bomb threat it is a good idea to have us all know what to do. But, I think, that after doing that for let's see.... Eleven years now, I think I'm with the program. But, honestly, no one, not even me, would be calm in the event of being in a burning building. I would freak out. Like, going: "JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH! HOLY FUCK! HOLY FUCK! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! THIS BITCH IS ON FIRE!!!". And that is no lie. I am trying not to swear. And, succeeding. But, in a fire....

Hello there!

Now, I have been getting these really random calls from these same three numbers. I have absolutely no idea who these people are. SO, come with me, and let's find out!
The first: 5036882900
  Well, it's a landline in portland, Oregon. Very helpful. I will call them back when I get home and demand answers!


The second: 7025202306
   Hmmm... It's a pager in Las Vegas, Nevada. What in hell???


The third: 
    Uhhhh.... It's a land line... In Butte, MT. 


  Am I the only one really really creeped out right now? Because this is creepy.... Ah well! I have nothing better to do than blog right now because while sitting here at my desk in photojournalism, all the cameras have been checked out. Oh well! Three photos are easy peasy to take. Right? 


Here we go again...

Me. Sleeping in class. And Ramblings.

Well, first of all. Sleeping in class. I passed out in world history today. Kind of really freaking embarrassing, drooling and talking in my sleep. Mr. Femrite took it as snoring and I felt awful I was tempted to say I don't snore, it was just in coherent mumblings, but c'est la vie me being me (absolutely bonkers and a half) said nothing. I've been meaning to start writing in my diary again. Mostly because mumbling to myself when I'm home alone has become, y'know, uhm, awkward and not rad. 
    Rambling. I ramble. Mostly, when I get up and have to make a speech and have nothing to work off of. I improvise, and that's where things get... Well, not... Good. That's where I tend(i.e. start) to ramble. And, well that happened in english. We had to do a project describing ourselves. SOI went up unprepared and just started rambling. Before Spencer had the chance to elbow me and say: "rambling!" Mrs. Goosman got me back on topic. Thank God. 

Jobs.

Ugh. Job hunting sucks. Furthermore, being sixteen sucks. I can't find any summer camp jobs that will pay me. Unless I can get some business done vis-a-vis Hayley's Beautiful Floral Blooms, but otherwise... I am so screwed. I need about five hundred dollars for the trip to Dallas. Merde. Well. I can still look, and work on a business flyer for a general all around business flyer just to advertise. It definitely helps. With an address to  my blog, and pull-tabs with a phone number and blog address. See, I gots smarts. Wish me luck!

Photoshoped Photos!

My friend Mariah, took this a while back.

This is Aimee and Chase, again took this months ago.

Just a random cool looking leaf.

My sister Alisa and her cat Callie. Turned out awesome in black and white.

Alisa and her cat again. Alisa is really photogenic. And, strangely enough, her cat loves having pictures taken of her.

Wicked awesome photos. I have tons more on my mom's computer which is kind of... Dead. And needs a new cord so it can charge again. I don't see why little kids have to lie all the time. Particularly my sister Patricia. I mean did she really just have to say that I dropped the computer? No. I did not. I pulled on the computer cord too hard, because it was stuck under Great Grandpa Curtiss Moses' chair and the computer spun a bit on the coffee table and the metal bit that plugs into the computer bent. That's all that happened. Just why, oh why do little kids have to lie? About everything? I don't know. Besides, who cares?