I've decided that I don't like being an American. I mean it's cool and all, yay free speech, yay Obama, yay terrible singers who become famous just for using auto tune. But really? We're pretty ignorant about the world around us as a whole. You're probably aware of this epidemic if you're reading my blog, especially if you agree with me about things. You know. The things I've been talking about for the last month I've had this blog.
So I'm starting a project. Every month, maybe every two months depending on how much time this takes, I'm going to break the monotony of posts about my life and posts about my problems with America to do an in-depth immersion in the culture of another country. I'm starting with England because I have a friend in England who I want to have something interesting to read in this blog, but then I might start moving on to the other countries I have readers from - notably so far I've seen Canada, Denmark, and the Philippines with more than like 2 views each so I'm hoping it's not just an accident. Or you can tell me what countries you want me to learn about.
This immersion will be done with watching TV episodes from the country, reading their news, figuring out who their celebrities are and checking them out - you know, I'm doing this from a pop culture aspect. I'm determined to find a country with more intellect than the United States.
And I apologize if I'm accidentally dissing any of you guys reading this from the US, you do make up the bulk of my readership (OMG I HAVE A READERSHIP. It's pretty darn awesome. Also small but I love you anyway.) I do trust that you're educating yourself on what is good and what is bad, and I'm not calling you stupid. I'm calling most of the other people out there stupid. There's a difference.
Anyway. I'm officially declaring February to be England Month, and I'll pick March after that. You guys can help, if you come from the country I'm going to be talking about, post here or drop me a line on Twitter @CultureLessons to tell me what I should be checking out! And I'll give you my blatantly honest opinion. You know I will.
Showing posts with label Fail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fail. Show all posts
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
How To Eat An Oreo Cookie
Going through my writing portfolios from when I was a young elementary school student, I stumbled across a fourth grade essay titled "How To Eat An Oreo Cookie." I read through it and actually distinctly remember writing the piece. It contains rather disgusting and elaborate steps for how to eat an Oreo, involving pulling the cookie apart, putting the pieces in a plastic bag, smushing them all together until it's a crumbled mess, then using milk to turn it into a paste and eating it with a spoon.
I'm not sure what was wrong with me in fourth grade.
Nobody eats an Oreo like that. I don't even eat Oreos like that, I made it up because I wanted to be 'original' and I was quite sure nobody else would write as messed up an essay as that. Clearly because they weren't as creative as me, and not because they were sane.
I've decided that there are several other perfectly acceptable ways to eat an Oreo that will work much better than my previously described method. Please don't try that way, I am not liable for any puking that occurs as a result. I do suggest the new ways, however. They could be very delicious. And yes, each way is very significant - don't try to tell me that an Oreo is an Oreo and it will taste the same no matter how you eat it. This is NOT TRUE. Don't listen to anyone who says so.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method I
(Roman numerals make everything look more official)
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Insert cookie into mouth.
3. Take a bite.
4. Chew.
5. Swallow.
6. Repeat steps 2 through 5 until Oreo cookie has been consumed.
7. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method II
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Insert entire cookie into mouth.
3. Chew.
4. Swallow.
5. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method III
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Pry Oreo cookie into two separate cookie halves.
3. Use your teeth to scrape the filling off of the two halves.
4. (Optional) Eat the two chocolate cookie halves.
5. (If you skipped step 4) Throw the chocolate cookie halves away.
6. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method IV
1. Do not remove Oreo from package. Do not eat Oreo. You are on a diet.
2. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method V
1. Remove two Oreo cookies from package.
2. Pull the first Oreo cookie apart.
3. Make sure all of the filling stays on one half of the cookie.
4. Throw the other half away.
5. Repeat steps 2-4 with the other cookie.
6. Put the two halves with filling together.
7. Place Oreo cookie in mouth.
8. Bite.
9. Chew.
10. Swallow.
11. Repeat steps 7-10 until Oreo is gone.
12. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
Hopefully, one of these methods will strike your fancy! Happy eating! If you have a method I didn't cover, feel free to enlighten me.
I'm not sure what was wrong with me in fourth grade.
Nobody eats an Oreo like that. I don't even eat Oreos like that, I made it up because I wanted to be 'original' and I was quite sure nobody else would write as messed up an essay as that. Clearly because they weren't as creative as me, and not because they were sane.
I've decided that there are several other perfectly acceptable ways to eat an Oreo that will work much better than my previously described method. Please don't try that way, I am not liable for any puking that occurs as a result. I do suggest the new ways, however. They could be very delicious. And yes, each way is very significant - don't try to tell me that an Oreo is an Oreo and it will taste the same no matter how you eat it. This is NOT TRUE. Don't listen to anyone who says so.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method I
(Roman numerals make everything look more official)
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Insert cookie into mouth.
3. Take a bite.
4. Chew.
5. Swallow.
6. Repeat steps 2 through 5 until Oreo cookie has been consumed.
7. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method II
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Insert entire cookie into mouth.
3. Chew.
4. Swallow.
5. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method III
1. Remove Oreo cookie from package.
2. Pry Oreo cookie into two separate cookie halves.
3. Use your teeth to scrape the filling off of the two halves.
4. (Optional) Eat the two chocolate cookie halves.
5. (If you skipped step 4) Throw the chocolate cookie halves away.
6. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method IV
1. Do not remove Oreo from package. Do not eat Oreo. You are on a diet.
2. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
How To Eat An Oreo: Method V
1. Remove two Oreo cookies from package.
2. Pull the first Oreo cookie apart.
3. Make sure all of the filling stays on one half of the cookie.
4. Throw the other half away.
5. Repeat steps 2-4 with the other cookie.
6. Put the two halves with filling together.
7. Place Oreo cookie in mouth.
8. Bite.
9. Chew.
10. Swallow.
11. Repeat steps 7-10 until Oreo is gone.
12. (Optional) Drink a glass of milk.
Hopefully, one of these methods will strike your fancy! Happy eating! If you have a method I didn't cover, feel free to enlighten me.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Life As We (Don't) Know It
So far leading in the poll on the right side of the page people most want to hear about my life and other peoples' lives. I'm not sure why you want to hear about my life, it's super boring. And I can tell you about other people but it might be very exaggerated and sarcastic. So I'm going to promote that little contest I tried to start a while ago but no one seemed to pay attention to :P First 25 followers on the blog (go over to the right, scroll down, click follow) will get their names thrown into a hat and one will be pulled out. The winner gets interviewed by me and then I will write a post about their life, making it even more over the top and awesome than I'm sure it already is.
To give you an example of what your life could look like, I'm going to humor my friend Linds who's been telling me I should write about her since I started this blog, and dedicate today's blog post to her and her insanity. She's got a bit of a bizarre existence. So bear with me and realize what cool friends I have.
Once upon a time, Lindsey and I hated each other. Well. That's a lie. Lindsey hated me and I was very confused as to why she hated me. Turns out she thought I had a perfect life and was mad at me for being so happy and positive all the time. What a hilarious concept. My life is far from perfect. Anyway we sat at the same lunch table but she wouldn't even talk to me she just...sulked at me. And I was so confused. I didn't understand that my perpetual bouncy optimism could be a bad thing to some people. And she was crazy anyway, but then one day we realized that we had a lot more in common than we thought and started talking. And then all of a sudden we were like best friends. At this point I don't even remember what happened to change things, when we started being friends, or any of that stuff. I just remember her hating me then her not hating me.
To help you get to know Lindsey, I'm going to throw out some random and partially true facts about her. You can have fun guessing what is real.
Lindsey loves ducks. She likes them a lot more than normal people do. In fact one of her favorite birthday presents was a sparkly pink duck that her sister gave her. Sometimes I think that she should just marry a duck and then her life will be complete. It's perfectly normal though, don't go thinking she's crazy or anything. She totally isn't. She's totally normal. She just loves ducks.
Lindsey ALSO loves ladybugs. It is really fun to give her a ton of ladybugs and watch her react. She's just so happy to be covered in swarms of them. Trust me. She won't be mad at you, she's not grossed out by them or anything.
Lindsey decided once upon a time to spell her name Lyndsey instead. I don't know why she changed it back. It confused me very much in middle school because for a while I really wasn't sure how to spell it.
Lindsey likes to date crazy people. After she's done with the crazies, I openly hate them for the rest of their lives.
Lindsey is magical. This can be interpreted many different ways but I guarantee one of your interpretations is going to be correct.
Lindsey believes in unicorns just like I do! (I'm not alone! I knew I wasn't alone!)
Lindsey cannot cook. We tried to cook once and it went horribly, horribly wrong. This has lead to our habit of simply ordering food or myself cooking the food when we hang out. On New Year's Eve we stayed up late and ate Chinese food while we watched dumb and entertaining videos on Youtube. It was much better than us trying to do anything - we "tried" to make brownies and they got really gross and tasted bad. I still don't know what went wrong.
Lindsey is a professional ninja. I'm just kidding, of course. Coz if she were a ninja I wouldn't actually be able to tell you...there's that whole no one knows who are the real ninjas thing. Next time you're on the subway watch out, there could be a ninja watching you. That'd be rather terrifying wouldn't it?
Lindsey eats soap.
Lindsey hates mustard.
Lindsey doesn't like to wait for dumb people. She's the kind of person who will yell at you if you're taking too long to do something. Sometimes it's a little upsetting, especially if you're the person she's yelling at, but you just have to deal with it.
Lindsey is usually right when I ask her for advice about things.
And that is all I have to say for now about Lindsey. She is a very amusing person. If this keyboard worked a little better I would write a "Day In The Life Of" but maybe I'll edit that in later if I have time on the other computer that actually works.
See ya! (If you have questions for Lindsey you can leave them and I'll get them to her. Not that you will, but I mean in case you do.)
To give you an example of what your life could look like, I'm going to humor my friend Linds who's been telling me I should write about her since I started this blog, and dedicate today's blog post to her and her insanity. She's got a bit of a bizarre existence. So bear with me and realize what cool friends I have.
Once upon a time, Lindsey and I hated each other. Well. That's a lie. Lindsey hated me and I was very confused as to why she hated me. Turns out she thought I had a perfect life and was mad at me for being so happy and positive all the time. What a hilarious concept. My life is far from perfect. Anyway we sat at the same lunch table but she wouldn't even talk to me she just...sulked at me. And I was so confused. I didn't understand that my perpetual bouncy optimism could be a bad thing to some people. And she was crazy anyway, but then one day we realized that we had a lot more in common than we thought and started talking. And then all of a sudden we were like best friends. At this point I don't even remember what happened to change things, when we started being friends, or any of that stuff. I just remember her hating me then her not hating me.
To help you get to know Lindsey, I'm going to throw out some random and partially true facts about her. You can have fun guessing what is real.
Lindsey loves ducks. She likes them a lot more than normal people do. In fact one of her favorite birthday presents was a sparkly pink duck that her sister gave her. Sometimes I think that she should just marry a duck and then her life will be complete. It's perfectly normal though, don't go thinking she's crazy or anything. She totally isn't. She's totally normal. She just loves ducks.
Lindsey ALSO loves ladybugs. It is really fun to give her a ton of ladybugs and watch her react. She's just so happy to be covered in swarms of them. Trust me. She won't be mad at you, she's not grossed out by them or anything.
Lindsey decided once upon a time to spell her name Lyndsey instead. I don't know why she changed it back. It confused me very much in middle school because for a while I really wasn't sure how to spell it.
Lindsey likes to date crazy people. After she's done with the crazies, I openly hate them for the rest of their lives.
Lindsey is magical. This can be interpreted many different ways but I guarantee one of your interpretations is going to be correct.
Lindsey believes in unicorns just like I do! (I'm not alone! I knew I wasn't alone!)
Lindsey cannot cook. We tried to cook once and it went horribly, horribly wrong. This has lead to our habit of simply ordering food or myself cooking the food when we hang out. On New Year's Eve we stayed up late and ate Chinese food while we watched dumb and entertaining videos on Youtube. It was much better than us trying to do anything - we "tried" to make brownies and they got really gross and tasted bad. I still don't know what went wrong.
Lindsey is a professional ninja. I'm just kidding, of course. Coz if she were a ninja I wouldn't actually be able to tell you...there's that whole no one knows who are the real ninjas thing. Next time you're on the subway watch out, there could be a ninja watching you. That'd be rather terrifying wouldn't it?
Lindsey eats soap.
Lindsey hates mustard.
Lindsey doesn't like to wait for dumb people. She's the kind of person who will yell at you if you're taking too long to do something. Sometimes it's a little upsetting, especially if you're the person she's yelling at, but you just have to deal with it.
Lindsey is usually right when I ask her for advice about things.
And that is all I have to say for now about Lindsey. She is a very amusing person. If this keyboard worked a little better I would write a "Day In The Life Of" but maybe I'll edit that in later if I have time on the other computer that actually works.
See ya! (If you have questions for Lindsey you can leave them and I'll get them to her. Not that you will, but I mean in case you do.)
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Baby Love, The Creepy Kind
In the long list of things about this world that I just don't understand, Twilight and its plot and characters consume so many spaces on the list that sometimes I think it deserves its own list, "Things I Don't Understand About Twilight." I could write so many posts about these problems that I just keep finding. My plan is to go through my copies of the books (Yes, I am very embarrassed to say I own them. But in a way you should be proud of me, I read every single one before I passed all my judgments. I actually gave them a chance.) with a highlighter and deface them, marking my favorite "problems" to write about here. Trust me, there will be several posts in the future related to Twilight and the other books in the series and why they freak me out.
But the biggest, most glaring problem is something I cannot ignore any longer. Baby love. In Breaking Dawn, there is a scene where Bella has a half-vampire-half-human baby. (Don't even get me started on the baby itself. First of all, if vampires have no blood, how does Edward even get it up to make the baby??) As soon as the dumb baby is born and named after two mother figures' names smushed together (bet they loved that one), there's this moment where Jacob (the emo werewolf who's been in love with Bella the entire series) all of a sudden realizes that he's IN LOVE WITH RENESMEE, the baby. If you go "aww that's cute!" instead of immediately recoiling in horror, something is seriously wrong with you.
Teenager. In love with Bella. Suddenly in love with Bella's baby. So he's just going to sit around and take care of her like a big brother or father figure until she's a legal adult and then BOOM. Time to be in love! (Though you know, Stephenie Meyer clearly has zero understanding of how to portray love in the first place. Bella and Edward's relationship is completely unrealistic.) This is not cute. This is not clever. This is not romantic. This is terrifying. The fact that she's all but condoning statutory rape? Yeah. That's a big, big problem. I don't care if it's imprinting and there was no other way to keep the plot going and keep Jacob involved since Bella has so blatantly rejected him and he can't stand her now that she's a vampire.
I'm not sure what this says about society. There was no huge outcry against it, mostly because the preteen and teen girls reading the books were probably too occupied with thinking "Renesmee" was a cute name and being happy that Bella's voice sounded like bells and she was magically a vampire with no desire whatsoever to pig out on blood to even notice how wrong this entire concept is. The characters frustrate me so much. THIS IS NOT OKAY. Oh my goodness people, by the time she's eighteen Jacob is going to be like...in his thrirties. Well. Almost thirty I think. I forget how old he is. There is a very large age gap. Now I know the older people get the less this age gap matters, but he's only a year or so younger than Bella - he's old enough to be her father. What the hell, S Meyer.
And aside from the freakishness of the situation, how are they going to explain that to the little Nessy when she gets older? "So darling, I love you and all, but once upon a time I kissed your mother and was madly in love with her." She is going to take that one so well. Though her mother may hate her, I'm not sure how that relationship is going to go. Bella is very unpredictable. And clumsy, don't forget. Remind me to talk about that too.
See? There are already so many things I want to explain more about in this post. But I won't because I'll share them later.
Okay. Now I'm mad at the world for reading these books. Rant over. I'm going to go talk to Alex, stalk Cory Monteith on Twitter, and eat some ice cream. Delay in the morning so I get to sleep in!! And I had a smoothie. Goodness gracious it's been a lovely snow day.
But the biggest, most glaring problem is something I cannot ignore any longer. Baby love. In Breaking Dawn, there is a scene where Bella has a half-vampire-half-human baby. (Don't even get me started on the baby itself. First of all, if vampires have no blood, how does Edward even get it up to make the baby??) As soon as the dumb baby is born and named after two mother figures' names smushed together (bet they loved that one), there's this moment where Jacob (the emo werewolf who's been in love with Bella the entire series) all of a sudden realizes that he's IN LOVE WITH RENESMEE, the baby. If you go "aww that's cute!" instead of immediately recoiling in horror, something is seriously wrong with you.
Teenager. In love with Bella. Suddenly in love with Bella's baby. So he's just going to sit around and take care of her like a big brother or father figure until she's a legal adult and then BOOM. Time to be in love! (Though you know, Stephenie Meyer clearly has zero understanding of how to portray love in the first place. Bella and Edward's relationship is completely unrealistic.) This is not cute. This is not clever. This is not romantic. This is terrifying. The fact that she's all but condoning statutory rape? Yeah. That's a big, big problem. I don't care if it's imprinting and there was no other way to keep the plot going and keep Jacob involved since Bella has so blatantly rejected him and he can't stand her now that she's a vampire.
I'm not sure what this says about society. There was no huge outcry against it, mostly because the preteen and teen girls reading the books were probably too occupied with thinking "Renesmee" was a cute name and being happy that Bella's voice sounded like bells and she was magically a vampire with no desire whatsoever to pig out on blood to even notice how wrong this entire concept is. The characters frustrate me so much. THIS IS NOT OKAY. Oh my goodness people, by the time she's eighteen Jacob is going to be like...in his thrirties. Well. Almost thirty I think. I forget how old he is. There is a very large age gap. Now I know the older people get the less this age gap matters, but he's only a year or so younger than Bella - he's old enough to be her father. What the hell, S Meyer.
And aside from the freakishness of the situation, how are they going to explain that to the little Nessy when she gets older? "So darling, I love you and all, but once upon a time I kissed your mother and was madly in love with her." She is going to take that one so well. Though her mother may hate her, I'm not sure how that relationship is going to go. Bella is very unpredictable. And clumsy, don't forget. Remind me to talk about that too.
See? There are already so many things I want to explain more about in this post. But I won't because I'll share them later.
Okay. Now I'm mad at the world for reading these books. Rant over. I'm going to go talk to Alex, stalk Cory Monteith on Twitter, and eat some ice cream. Delay in the morning so I get to sleep in!! And I had a smoothie. Goodness gracious it's been a lovely snow day.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Yoko Ono Is Following Me On Twitter
I got a twitter the other day. Yeah. Super fun times. I promptly became addicted, and my favorite youtuber actually messaged me back about something. So now I'm going to knit NicePeter a hat. I'm pretty excited. But THEN I followed Yoko Ono because she's one of my favorite people and I admire her so much, just like I follow all my other celebs who I'm obsessed with. AND SHE FOLLOWED ME BACK.
Now. This doesn't mean I'm super special or anything. Yoko has over a million followers, and she's followed back about 400,000 of them. Ish. So I mean it's like i had a bigger than 1 in 3 chance that she'd follow me back. But I just feel so super cool, like. YOKO ONO KNOWS I EXIST.
I just ended the last two paragraphs with capital letters. And all I can smell is Elmer's Glue because my little sister is doing her project on chimpanzees behind me. Using a lot of glue. And as I sit here, I think to myself - wow. My posts are really lame. (Maybe they're not. But. Hear me out on this.) My logic is as follows - Yokoonoisfollowingmeontwitteromgomgomg. This means that someday she might actually read something I tweet. Which could include a link to my blog. Which means Yoko Ono could possibly read my blog someday. In my dreams... She has way more important things to do like her amazing work.
Yet I'm filled with this need to perform...better. What if people actually start reading this?? They're going to judge me for being so condescending when I'm clearly just a silly teenage girl. Like what do I know about the world? Well I know what I want to do and I know what I don't like. (For example, the whole let's love babies thing in Breaking Dawn) So I mean I hope you'll stick around to read more of my random rants about life. And if you want, I can even tell more stories about Joshua working in the hospital. And my friend Lindsey wants me to write about her life, but I don't know if you want to keep hearing about my friends so I might have to spice things up a little. I will write a post turning her life into a soap opera. Complete with terrible dialogue.
....dude. Twilight would make a hilarious soap opera. I might have to write that up too. It actually sounds kinda like a soap opera. Totally unrealistic and over the top? Yeah. (I'm sorry, Alex! I know you love General Hospital!)
AND SEE NOW I'M PARANOID AGAIN. I feel like people who come to read this blog will see the title and my sidebar and my about me page and expect these hilarious awesome posts about Twilight and soap operas and Taylor Swift and my problems with these terrible influences on society. But then I feel guilty about being mean because not everyone shares my opinion. And then I worry that I'm not funny. And then I worry that everyone will go away.
This wouldn't upset me so much but now I feel like there's a chance someone important might read this. (If you're reading this, consider yourself important because I love my readers!! I have sixty-one hits on this blog. This means someone who isn't a friend of mine has actually read this blog and maybe even liked it! That is pretty freaking cool.) I need to write posts that Yoko Ono would be proud to read. Like, hey here's a fan who knows what's up! But how are you supposed to go around impressing Yoko Ono??? She's incredible, she's broken so many boundaries and achieved so much and overcome so much. I have no idea. Suggestions would be lovely, you know.
And then I remember that I'm just Margaret, a girl from a tiny little town in Massachusetts, and Yoko Ono will probably never read my blog. Which is a bit saddening. But. The pressure is off! So now I can go write posts bashing Twilight to my heart's content.
Now. This doesn't mean I'm super special or anything. Yoko has over a million followers, and she's followed back about 400,000 of them. Ish. So I mean it's like i had a bigger than 1 in 3 chance that she'd follow me back. But I just feel so super cool, like. YOKO ONO KNOWS I EXIST.
I just ended the last two paragraphs with capital letters. And all I can smell is Elmer's Glue because my little sister is doing her project on chimpanzees behind me. Using a lot of glue. And as I sit here, I think to myself - wow. My posts are really lame. (Maybe they're not. But. Hear me out on this.) My logic is as follows - Yokoonoisfollowingmeontwitteromgomgomg. This means that someday she might actually read something I tweet. Which could include a link to my blog. Which means Yoko Ono could possibly read my blog someday. In my dreams... She has way more important things to do like her amazing work.
Yet I'm filled with this need to perform...better. What if people actually start reading this?? They're going to judge me for being so condescending when I'm clearly just a silly teenage girl. Like what do I know about the world? Well I know what I want to do and I know what I don't like. (For example, the whole let's love babies thing in Breaking Dawn) So I mean I hope you'll stick around to read more of my random rants about life. And if you want, I can even tell more stories about Joshua working in the hospital. And my friend Lindsey wants me to write about her life, but I don't know if you want to keep hearing about my friends so I might have to spice things up a little. I will write a post turning her life into a soap opera. Complete with terrible dialogue.
....dude. Twilight would make a hilarious soap opera. I might have to write that up too. It actually sounds kinda like a soap opera. Totally unrealistic and over the top? Yeah. (I'm sorry, Alex! I know you love General Hospital!)
AND SEE NOW I'M PARANOID AGAIN. I feel like people who come to read this blog will see the title and my sidebar and my about me page and expect these hilarious awesome posts about Twilight and soap operas and Taylor Swift and my problems with these terrible influences on society. But then I feel guilty about being mean because not everyone shares my opinion. And then I worry that I'm not funny. And then I worry that everyone will go away.
This wouldn't upset me so much but now I feel like there's a chance someone important might read this. (If you're reading this, consider yourself important because I love my readers!! I have sixty-one hits on this blog. This means someone who isn't a friend of mine has actually read this blog and maybe even liked it! That is pretty freaking cool.) I need to write posts that Yoko Ono would be proud to read. Like, hey here's a fan who knows what's up! But how are you supposed to go around impressing Yoko Ono??? She's incredible, she's broken so many boundaries and achieved so much and overcome so much. I have no idea. Suggestions would be lovely, you know.
And then I remember that I'm just Margaret, a girl from a tiny little town in Massachusetts, and Yoko Ono will probably never read my blog. Which is a bit saddening. But. The pressure is off! So now I can go write posts bashing Twilight to my heart's content.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Battle of the Hopeless Romantic
Once upon a time there was a little girl who didn't feel like doing schoolwork and wanted to write a blog post instead. So she sat down to try to write something that would be funny, but all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and take a very, very long nap. So she settled for something in between, because anything is better than doing classwork, right?
(Just a disclaimer, in case my teacher ever reads this, I am sooo caught up in my work right now that it doesn't even matter.)
I called this post Battle of the Hopeless Romantic because I thought today I could talk about what it means to be a hopeless romantic. Sometimes I think it is a disease that I am inflicted with, and I just need the magic antidote and I'll be fine. I know a boy who expresses zero emotion and makes fun of me when I talk about my feelings too much. I don't really understand him for this. All I want is a romantic gesture every now and again. Granted, he does give them to me - he does/says the sweetest things. But. All said and done, I will always be expecting something bigger or better or more fantastic.
And now there's some kid sitting at the computer next to me so I feel awkward writing about being a romantic. Damn. I'm going to hit return a lot and then write again so if he's a nosy jerk who's going to try to read this he won't get to see anything.
.
There. Sorry for the multitude of space up there. If you'd like, you can imagine that it's a picture of a polar bear in a snowstorm. I will even go back up and put a little dot you can imagine is his nose. There. Imagine that's the polar bear's nose.
Well. My plans for talking about being a romantic have been shattered. I am going to have to think of something else to talk about. Which might be better anyway becuase I mean really, no one actually wants to read about my life. They'd rather listen to me complain about things. So today I will turn my attention to something that has alays bothered me and probably always will bother me. Celebrity marriages. To quote Donkey from the movie Shrek (which I don't like and will never like), "They never last."
Some of them DO LAST. Okay? It's the ones with problems that get splashed all over the tabloids. Because those sell. Because there's this silly condition in our world where we simply want to hear about other peoples' problems. And it bothers me. I sometimes wish I could just erase tabloids, but then I'd have nothing to amuse me at the doctor's office.
Just kidding. I'm going to talk about Josh. He's telling me about his experiences at the hospital. He was watching a beligerent old man last night. He (Josh) works there. And he was watching this guy, who they all said was "pleasantly confused" but he was apparently not pleasant at all, in fact he was mean. And he (the old guy) wanted to get up. And Josh had to make sure he didn't get up because he'd hurt his foot. But he was being really dumb about it and kept trying to get up. He said he wanted cigarettes, just had to have "smokes". And actually asked Josh for a ride up town to get cigarettes, and asked if Josh smoked. He's in a HOSPITAL. You don't smoke in a hospital.
So that went on for eight hours. It was terrible, Josh said. At 7:30 one of the nurses went in and said he could go home, and then he was a mile away and got called back to watch the same patient. Who didn't remember who Josh was. He thought he was at church where he worked but he was at the hospital and tomorrow he's going to "fire" Josh. Same encounter again, cigarettes and everything.
And then towards 11:00, there's this thing called sundowners where when the sun starts to set elderly people get less all-there and mentally healthy. So he forgot who Josh was again, and was confused and thought he was someone he already knew and that he was home, so he was really nice all of a sudden! Yay! And then yeah.
And then someone came in to watch him for nightshift and Josh said, "Have fun." And he was gone. These are the reasons why I could never, ever work at a hospital. I think I'd have yelled at the man and stormed out. I have zero patience.
That is my story. Actually Josh's story. I hope it entertained you. I basically typed it exactly as he said it out loud but changed the pronouns and I ignord this awkward part about how the guy kept having to go to the bathroom, but wasn't supposed to b/c of some medical term I don't remember but made sense at the time. (Josh left to go back to class. I'm now alone again. And bored.)
This post had nothing to do with romantics. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to that. But you did get to hear a story about a "pleasantly confused" man. And about how much tabloids lie. Because they only talk about what people want to hear...Actually I should expand on that in a later post. I could do it now but I don't really feel like it, because I've probably made you read enough by now.
Toodles!
(Just a disclaimer, in case my teacher ever reads this, I am sooo caught up in my work right now that it doesn't even matter.)
I called this post Battle of the Hopeless Romantic because I thought today I could talk about what it means to be a hopeless romantic. Sometimes I think it is a disease that I am inflicted with, and I just need the magic antidote and I'll be fine. I know a boy who expresses zero emotion and makes fun of me when I talk about my feelings too much. I don't really understand him for this. All I want is a romantic gesture every now and again. Granted, he does give them to me - he does/says the sweetest things. But. All said and done, I will always be expecting something bigger or better or more fantastic.
And now there's some kid sitting at the computer next to me so I feel awkward writing about being a romantic. Damn. I'm going to hit return a lot and then write again so if he's a nosy jerk who's going to try to read this he won't get to see anything.
.
There. Sorry for the multitude of space up there. If you'd like, you can imagine that it's a picture of a polar bear in a snowstorm. I will even go back up and put a little dot you can imagine is his nose. There. Imagine that's the polar bear's nose.
Well. My plans for talking about being a romantic have been shattered. I am going to have to think of something else to talk about. Which might be better anyway becuase I mean really, no one actually wants to read about my life. They'd rather listen to me complain about things. So today I will turn my attention to something that has alays bothered me and probably always will bother me. Celebrity marriages. To quote Donkey from the movie Shrek (which I don't like and will never like), "They never last."
Some of them DO LAST. Okay? It's the ones with problems that get splashed all over the tabloids. Because those sell. Because there's this silly condition in our world where we simply want to hear about other peoples' problems. And it bothers me. I sometimes wish I could just erase tabloids, but then I'd have nothing to amuse me at the doctor's office.
Just kidding. I'm going to talk about Josh. He's telling me about his experiences at the hospital. He was watching a beligerent old man last night. He (Josh) works there. And he was watching this guy, who they all said was "pleasantly confused" but he was apparently not pleasant at all, in fact he was mean. And he (the old guy) wanted to get up. And Josh had to make sure he didn't get up because he'd hurt his foot. But he was being really dumb about it and kept trying to get up. He said he wanted cigarettes, just had to have "smokes". And actually asked Josh for a ride up town to get cigarettes, and asked if Josh smoked. He's in a HOSPITAL. You don't smoke in a hospital.
So that went on for eight hours. It was terrible, Josh said. At 7:30 one of the nurses went in and said he could go home, and then he was a mile away and got called back to watch the same patient. Who didn't remember who Josh was. He thought he was at church where he worked but he was at the hospital and tomorrow he's going to "fire" Josh. Same encounter again, cigarettes and everything.
And then towards 11:00, there's this thing called sundowners where when the sun starts to set elderly people get less all-there and mentally healthy. So he forgot who Josh was again, and was confused and thought he was someone he already knew and that he was home, so he was really nice all of a sudden! Yay! And then yeah.
And then someone came in to watch him for nightshift and Josh said, "Have fun." And he was gone. These are the reasons why I could never, ever work at a hospital. I think I'd have yelled at the man and stormed out. I have zero patience.
That is my story. Actually Josh's story. I hope it entertained you. I basically typed it exactly as he said it out loud but changed the pronouns and I ignord this awkward part about how the guy kept having to go to the bathroom, but wasn't supposed to b/c of some medical term I don't remember but made sense at the time. (Josh left to go back to class. I'm now alone again. And bored.)
This post had nothing to do with romantics. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to that. But you did get to hear a story about a "pleasantly confused" man. And about how much tabloids lie. Because they only talk about what people want to hear...Actually I should expand on that in a later post. I could do it now but I don't really feel like it, because I've probably made you read enough by now.
Toodles!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Dear Wireless Internet
Dear Wireless Internet,
How dare you? You cop out at all the wrong times - when I'm in the middle of compulsively refreshing my stats page to see if anyone is actually reading this blog, when I'm in the middle of an important discussion that needs to be taken seriously and then the other person thinks I'm mad at them, when I'm working on a deadline, when I'm trying to do my college supplements (because I haven't finished all of those yet...go me!)
But today - today was the worst, and I'm afraid you have no excuse. Today has convinced me that you are in fact out to get me, and nothing I can say or do will fix this relationship. I am sitting at the dining room table. No more than two yards away from the modem for the internet. And then I become aware of a problem. My stats page isn't loading. Nor is my friend responding in my conversation.
What could the deal be?? Twitter isn't working either, so I retreat into crisis mode. And then I see it - the telltale red x down at the bottom right of the screen next to the battery icon. The wireless is malfunctioning. But I am so. Close. To. The. Modem. There is NO way it could be any kind of a connection error. Because it's RIGHT THERE.
Oh wireless, why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you? Aside from this one angry post I have never been mean to you, usually I try to be patient with you when you have your senior moments. I know you've been our modem for years now but that's no excuse for breaking on me. Because see the thing is, I need you to survive. Internet is my connection to the world. I'm not so sure I'll be okay if you break. Or else I'll just have to start spending a lot more time at the library.
So please, Wireless, stop malfunctioning and just give me my internet...
Love,
Margaret
How dare you? You cop out at all the wrong times - when I'm in the middle of compulsively refreshing my stats page to see if anyone is actually reading this blog, when I'm in the middle of an important discussion that needs to be taken seriously and then the other person thinks I'm mad at them, when I'm working on a deadline, when I'm trying to do my college supplements (because I haven't finished all of those yet...go me!)
But today - today was the worst, and I'm afraid you have no excuse. Today has convinced me that you are in fact out to get me, and nothing I can say or do will fix this relationship. I am sitting at the dining room table. No more than two yards away from the modem for the internet. And then I become aware of a problem. My stats page isn't loading. Nor is my friend responding in my conversation.
What could the deal be?? Twitter isn't working either, so I retreat into crisis mode. And then I see it - the telltale red x down at the bottom right of the screen next to the battery icon. The wireless is malfunctioning. But I am so. Close. To. The. Modem. There is NO way it could be any kind of a connection error. Because it's RIGHT THERE.
Oh wireless, why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you? Aside from this one angry post I have never been mean to you, usually I try to be patient with you when you have your senior moments. I know you've been our modem for years now but that's no excuse for breaking on me. Because see the thing is, I need you to survive. Internet is my connection to the world. I'm not so sure I'll be okay if you break. Or else I'll just have to start spending a lot more time at the library.
So please, Wireless, stop malfunctioning and just give me my internet...
Love,
Margaret
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