AGONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know you're not supposed to want to jump ahead in time, because that means that you'll have lost precious moments that you'll want to reclaim when you're dying... But whatever, I have issues with this season, and it's driving me up the wall.
First of all, why is it around 0 degrees in January? February is the coldest month of the year, and already the snow's beginning to melt and turn into sneaky, sneaky white ice.
But that's not what I meant when I said that I had issues with this season!
What I meant was: Get me out of this boring interlude!
I've been cranky for a while now, seeing as I don't want to be here, doing the things I'm doing. I want to be somewhere else, studying. Living life.
But now things are worse... because of TV entertainment.
WHAT???? You ask?
(Is that really a question, by the way? I mean, I know it has a question mark after it, but.. it doesn't really contain any kind of information as to what it's asking..... ANYWAY--->)
Misfits season 3 --------> Premieres in November 2011
Sherlock season 2 -------> Premieres "Fall of 2011"
Dexter season 6 --------> Premieres in September 2011
It's like the universe is taunting me.
Everything happens after this summer.
After.
And I'm still in the Before part of the year.
It's NOT EVEN FEBRUARY YET!
... and I'm losing my mind.
Am I being serious?
...
Yes.
Superheroes in real life.
Ok... so, somehow, seeing Spiderman running around on photos in real life looks ridiculous.
Having actual superheroes wouldn't work off screen.
Having actual superheroes wouldn't work off screen.
http://www.tmz.com/videos?autoplay=true&mediaKey=2094fb71-f89b-41af-88fb-4f35a54cc47f
Wow. No one wants to read this.
I wrote an email to a teacher I had in high school. Since I never visited her on christmas, or even sent a card saying: "Hello! I'm not dead. Hopefully, neither are you. Merry Christmas!" I thought I should AT LEAST send her an email, explaining why she might have seen my around town, even though I'm supposed to be in another city, studying right now.
This teacher meant so much to me in high school. Everyone in my class loved her, and you could just feel and see that she loved us back. She was like family.
I remember feeling lost and sad in my third year, because of stress and general confusion. I had this handler who I was supposed to talk to and get help from, but instead I went to this wonderful teacher, because she was the only one I actually trusted...
Plus, my handler was a total moron.
When I wrote this email, I expected to get an answer along the lines of: Oh! It's so nice to hear from you! I'm fine. Just got back from Greece. Healthy. Wonderful. Woopie!
But, instead she told me that she'd been robbed last year, and lost all her valuables. She told me she felt like moving out of her house, because it felt foreign and empty now.
My heart sank.
As I'm writing this I'm realizing how much I miss High school. I didn't love all aspects of it, especially not some of the people who went there with me. But I did love the feeling of being connected to something. I loved seeing my friends everyday, even though we were all tired and afraid of failing some upcoming test.
I loved the food!
God, the food was really good.
Lunch ladies, I took you for granted.
I'm sorry.
Your salad buffets made my mouth water.
Anyway, when my teacher told me she was sad, I thought about how you never think about your teachers as human beings. Not really. You think of them as parent-like entities. People who exist so that you can go forward in life. Her story should have shattered that image. And yet, I still feel like running to her and crying about my life.
This makes me think that all relationships end after high school, simply because they must.
My psychology teacher once told my class that once we left high school we wouldn't be friends anymore. We wouldn't have anything in common.
Back then, we scoffed.
But now.... It's all very obvious.
Sure, I'm still friends with all of them. But when we talk... We talk memories.
I feel like I'm stuck in the twilight zone.
This teacher meant so much to me in high school. Everyone in my class loved her, and you could just feel and see that she loved us back. She was like family.
I remember feeling lost and sad in my third year, because of stress and general confusion. I had this handler who I was supposed to talk to and get help from, but instead I went to this wonderful teacher, because she was the only one I actually trusted...
Plus, my handler was a total moron.
When I wrote this email, I expected to get an answer along the lines of: Oh! It's so nice to hear from you! I'm fine. Just got back from Greece. Healthy. Wonderful. Woopie!
But, instead she told me that she'd been robbed last year, and lost all her valuables. She told me she felt like moving out of her house, because it felt foreign and empty now.
My heart sank.
As I'm writing this I'm realizing how much I miss High school. I didn't love all aspects of it, especially not some of the people who went there with me. But I did love the feeling of being connected to something. I loved seeing my friends everyday, even though we were all tired and afraid of failing some upcoming test.
I loved the food!
God, the food was really good.
Lunch ladies, I took you for granted.
I'm sorry.
Your salad buffets made my mouth water.
Anyway, when my teacher told me she was sad, I thought about how you never think about your teachers as human beings. Not really. You think of them as parent-like entities. People who exist so that you can go forward in life. Her story should have shattered that image. And yet, I still feel like running to her and crying about my life.
This makes me think that all relationships end after high school, simply because they must.
My psychology teacher once told my class that once we left high school we wouldn't be friends anymore. We wouldn't have anything in common.
Back then, we scoffed.
But now.... It's all very obvious.
Sure, I'm still friends with all of them. But when we talk... We talk memories.
I feel like I'm stuck in the twilight zone.
Liars and Look-alikes
Just saw:
Wow, this movie is nothing like what I thought it would be.
It's not a smart romantic comedy. It's a sad realistic romantic drama/comedy about illness and shortcomings.
Could trailers and movie posters just stop lying to me?
I loved the movie, but I wasn't prepared!!
..Ok, I have one problem with this movie.
The soundtrack sucks.
Imagine a sad/amazing ending scene with "I love you I want you I need you" and background music that goes "mmmhmmmhmmmmm" from a dull, dark female voice. Talk about a ruined mood!
---
Have I ever told you about the Jake Gyllenhaal look-alike that lives in my town?
No?
He gained a few pounds and stopped sleeping, and now he looks more like.... himself, I guess, than Jake. I was thinking that maybe that's what he was after. Maybe he was sick of being compared to someone else.
...Or maybe he just loves McDonalds and WoW.
Either way, I'm disappointed.
Eye candy is like medicine for the soul. Or maybe I mean: Jake Gyllenhaal is like medicine for the soul.
Star signs
Today I heard that they're changing the star sign dates....
Isn't this the stupidest thing you've ever heard? Who cares if the stars have moved around a little bit? I've been a Scorpion all my life, I'm not telling people I've suddenly turned into a Libra.
It's not like anyone actually takes their horoscope seriously, anyway.
....Right?
Oh lord, I certainly hope not.
--------------
With that kind of attitude you won't be able to do anything.
What is with parents and their unrelenting fear of the internet?
--------
Actual conversation I had with my mother this morning:
(Me) -I created a new Youtube channel today, where my friends and I can upload videos and stuff... So we can see each other even though we live in different cities. Isn't that great, mom?
(Mom) -......Is this something that other people can see?
-No. Because you can make all the videos private.. and you can make sure that the entire channel is unlisted as well.
-......But can people get a hold of the videos anyway?
-No. Like I said.
-Not even Youtube?
-What? Of course they can. They own the website!!
-So they can use your videos as they wish?
-No!! What are you talking about?
-People with skills... computer skills.. they can always get a hold of your videos.
-It's not a terrorist organization, mom!!
-You have to be careful.
-It's just a channel where we upload things like: "oh, look what I'm doing for school right now! And here's a cat. Look what I can do." It's harmless! And the only people who can upload and view the videos are the ones with our password!!
-Password?
-Yes, mom. Password.
-So people who have your password can see your videos?
-....Yes... But they don't have our password.
-But they can get it.
-JESUS CHRIST! We're not uploading secret criminal messages, it's just for fun!! I'm leaving now.
(Dad) - Your mom is right, honey.
......
--------
Actual conversation I had with my mother this morning:
(Me) -I created a new Youtube channel today, where my friends and I can upload videos and stuff... So we can see each other even though we live in different cities. Isn't that great, mom?
(Mom) -......Is this something that other people can see?
-No. Because you can make all the videos private.. and you can make sure that the entire channel is unlisted as well.
-......But can people get a hold of the videos anyway?
-No. Like I said.
-Not even Youtube?
-What? Of course they can. They own the website!!
-So they can use your videos as they wish?
-No!! What are you talking about?
-People with skills... computer skills.. they can always get a hold of your videos.
-It's not a terrorist organization, mom!!
-You have to be careful.
-It's just a channel where we upload things like: "oh, look what I'm doing for school right now! And here's a cat. Look what I can do." It's harmless! And the only people who can upload and view the videos are the ones with our password!!
-Password?
-Yes, mom. Password.
-So people who have your password can see your videos?
-....Yes... But they don't have our password.
-But they can get it.
-JESUS CHRIST! We're not uploading secret criminal messages, it's just for fun!! I'm leaving now.
(Dad) - Your mom is right, honey.
......
Another great story.
I need something cheerful to happen. Like right NAOW!
I've spent my weekend in bed or on the living room couch, moaning and shouting. (oh, it sounds so wrong, but trust me, I totally mean the worst kind of moaning and shouting)
It all started on the day gramps died (yeah, already this story is hilarious). Sometime after dinner, I got the worst kind of stomachache in the world. The kind that doesn't go away. I couldn't concentrate on anything, because of THE PAIN, so I went to bed.
....But of course, how the hell are you supposed to fall asleep when it feels like an angry fairy is gnawing on your insides?
I tossed and turned all night, until I was unable to move.
Then... I got sick.
Around 8 a.m the next morning I ran into the bathroom and threw up. Very nasty business. What's even nastier is that when I looked down, I saw red. (For those that needs this spelled out: red = blood) "Hm, that's not normal..." I thought.
And no, it's not.
This is when all the moaning and shouting starts. I buried myself in five or six blankets, trying not to cry. My mom, being the work-a-holic nurse she is, checked my pulse, asked me to move my legs this and that way, put pressure on different parts of my tummy, asking with that soothing and yet alien voice: "does that hurt? does that hurt?" (No capital letters.)
Finally, she said: "The place where it hurts the most for you... that's where you appendix is. It might be an infection."
That day was a living hell, is what I'm trying to say.
But, today, two days later, I am fine.
And I know what the problem was now.
.....It was a case of PMS, my friends.
Not even kidding.
Now, this is definite proof that women drew the short straw somewhere in the beginning of evolution.
I've spent my weekend in bed or on the living room couch, moaning and shouting. (oh, it sounds so wrong, but trust me, I totally mean the worst kind of moaning and shouting)
It all started on the day gramps died (yeah, already this story is hilarious). Sometime after dinner, I got the worst kind of stomachache in the world. The kind that doesn't go away. I couldn't concentrate on anything, because of THE PAIN, so I went to bed.
....But of course, how the hell are you supposed to fall asleep when it feels like an angry fairy is gnawing on your insides?
I tossed and turned all night, until I was unable to move.
Then... I got sick.
Around 8 a.m the next morning I ran into the bathroom and threw up. Very nasty business. What's even nastier is that when I looked down, I saw red. (For those that needs this spelled out: red = blood) "Hm, that's not normal..." I thought.
And no, it's not.
This is when all the moaning and shouting starts. I buried myself in five or six blankets, trying not to cry. My mom, being the work-a-holic nurse she is, checked my pulse, asked me to move my legs this and that way, put pressure on different parts of my tummy, asking with that soothing and yet alien voice: "does that hurt? does that hurt?" (No capital letters.)
Finally, she said: "The place where it hurts the most for you... that's where you appendix is. It might be an infection."
That day was a living hell, is what I'm trying to say.
But, today, two days later, I am fine.
And I know what the problem was now.
.....It was a case of PMS, my friends.
Not even kidding.
Now, this is definite proof that women drew the short straw somewhere in the beginning of evolution.
In memory of our grandfather.
So the day in which the grandfather dies has arrived. And it's a peculiar day. A sad day. Because, of course, grandad wasn't just a grandad, he was also a father.
I don't usuall cry over things like this. But I do cry when people call and ask: "how's mom?"
Because the question implies that she's not doing good. And surely, she's not. A fact which breaks my heart.
He spent his last years in bed, unable to communicate properly; alone and scared. When he died he was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by nothing and no one.
A lot of people die that way.
Alone.. in the middle of the night.
I don't know how or when I'll die, but I hope that before it happens, I'll have met enough people and made enough memories to entertain myself during those last few minutes.
I never knew what that old man was thinking, since he couldn't talk to anyone about it, and most of the time he was drugged up with antidepressants and a gazillion other pills, supposedly to make him feel more "comfortable". But I truly hope he wasn't afraid. I hope he was dreaming.
I guess the proper thing to say is: Rest in Peace.
But I know you are.
I don't usuall cry over things like this. But I do cry when people call and ask: "how's mom?"
Because the question implies that she's not doing good. And surely, she's not. A fact which breaks my heart.
He spent his last years in bed, unable to communicate properly; alone and scared. When he died he was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by nothing and no one.
A lot of people die that way.
Alone.. in the middle of the night.
I don't know how or when I'll die, but I hope that before it happens, I'll have met enough people and made enough memories to entertain myself during those last few minutes.
I never knew what that old man was thinking, since he couldn't talk to anyone about it, and most of the time he was drugged up with antidepressants and a gazillion other pills, supposedly to make him feel more "comfortable". But I truly hope he wasn't afraid. I hope he was dreaming.
I guess the proper thing to say is: Rest in Peace.
But I know you are.
What?
Things have been... New.
That's not a cohesive sentence. But I've been experiencing a lot of new stuff these past few months.
One of those things is my heightened youtube addiction. Apparently when you start your own channel, you turn into a youtube monster. My brother decided that he wanted to subscribe to my channel, and I saw that as a sign that he cared, and ever since I've been bombarding him with youtube nonsense, like: "I got this really sweet mail the other day", or: "What should I do next? What do you think?". And sure, he hasn't gunned me down yet, but if I were in his position I would've kicked me out the door like the freak I am.
I'm exaggerating, of course.
That's what I do.
Another thing is that I'm getting a lot older.
Duh, you might say. But what? I didn't expect to act older, I just thought I'd get some wrinkles and grey hair, and that'd be it.
But no, I'm all mature and shiz.
And I'm confused as to whether or not I approve of that fact.
I see other people's pain and suffer because of it. That's never happened before. In fact, I'm pretty sure I spent my first 18 years in a wonderland made up of me, me and me.
Now, all I want is to help, because I feel a need to make the world a better place. If the world-suck increases, I cry.
Not exactly literally, because I hate crying. But you get the idea.
Is it better to live in your own world, or face reality?
I haven't decided yet.
Reality can be pretty beautiful too, though.
But, yeah, in connection to the second fact (my "maturity"(question mark)) I've started noticing myself in another way. And this is the worst part of all.
If I were the way I used to be then I wouldn't have had a problem with my current life situation. But as it is I hate everything about it, and that is why I will go through with the writing course starting this month, even though it's in swedish, which scares the living hell out of me.
I haven't written fiction in swedish since I was in middle school.
I just know I'm gonna suck.
And I'm making myself not care.
There is no moral lesson here. I'm just rambling. Truly.
Goodnight world.
That's not a cohesive sentence. But I've been experiencing a lot of new stuff these past few months.
One of those things is my heightened youtube addiction. Apparently when you start your own channel, you turn into a youtube monster. My brother decided that he wanted to subscribe to my channel, and I saw that as a sign that he cared, and ever since I've been bombarding him with youtube nonsense, like: "I got this really sweet mail the other day", or: "What should I do next? What do you think?". And sure, he hasn't gunned me down yet, but if I were in his position I would've kicked me out the door like the freak I am.
I'm exaggerating, of course.
That's what I do.
Another thing is that I'm getting a lot older.
Duh, you might say. But what? I didn't expect to act older, I just thought I'd get some wrinkles and grey hair, and that'd be it.
But no, I'm all mature and shiz.
And I'm confused as to whether or not I approve of that fact.
I see other people's pain and suffer because of it. That's never happened before. In fact, I'm pretty sure I spent my first 18 years in a wonderland made up of me, me and me.
Now, all I want is to help, because I feel a need to make the world a better place. If the world-suck increases, I cry.
Not exactly literally, because I hate crying. But you get the idea.
Is it better to live in your own world, or face reality?
I haven't decided yet.
Reality can be pretty beautiful too, though.
But, yeah, in connection to the second fact (my "maturity"(question mark)) I've started noticing myself in another way. And this is the worst part of all.
If I were the way I used to be then I wouldn't have had a problem with my current life situation. But as it is I hate everything about it, and that is why I will go through with the writing course starting this month, even though it's in swedish, which scares the living hell out of me.
I haven't written fiction in swedish since I was in middle school.
I just know I'm gonna suck.
And I'm making myself not care.
There is no moral lesson here. I'm just rambling. Truly.
Goodnight world.
