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One of those crazy teen blogger types. Completely bribe-able with coffee. An INTP.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Retarded Child With a Hunched Back

I was rooting through the desk in the back room at my dad's house like the eccentric busybody that I am (hey- I live there once every few weeks, I have a right to look through desks, right?) and found a DVD that I don't believe has been touched since the end of my seventh grade year. My Gifted DVD from the seventh grade.

You could probably use a little bit of background information. I will provide that. Gifted was where they stuck the obscenely over-intelligent kids who didn't really fit in (okay, so maybe that isn't the official description). The program was later renamed Horizon, which Mr. Z (Z being short for Zajdel, the surname of the fucking awesome teacher I had for Gifted) said he came up with while passing a gas station or some such thing. Moving on. On Thursdays and Fridays, for one class period- about forty minutes total, I believe- we, the geeks and nerds who will someday rule the world, got to leave Normal Class and go to Gifted. Yes, the capital letters are meant to be there.

During the second semester of the school year, each Gifted class (we were divided up by grade; all the seventh-graders were in one class, all the eighth-graders in another, etc.) got the chance to make a movie. In sixth grade, my class, which was comprised of about seven students, made (well, attempted to make) four movies. My personal favorite- the one I still get compliments on today, four years later- is titled something along the lines of The Adventures of Mustache Lady and G/T/S Man, G/T/S Man meaning Grandpa/Teacher/Superhero Man. G/T/S Man was a BAMF, in case you can't tell. There was something about a Holy Cow in that one.

Anyways, I've lost my DVD from that year, but Mr. Z, whom I still visit occasionally on Thursdays and Fridays when I can get the hell out of my fourth period, has promised to hook me up with another copy.

But I found the DVD from the next year. Seventh grade. Our movie- an entire eleven minutes long- was called The Stolen Keys. Rosie was a huge player in that one. I believe I had one line throughout the entire thing. Rosie didn't like what I did with the script, so she edited it until it was how she wanted it. I suppose you could say I'm a little resentful. Moving on.
I watched it with my good friend Katie last night (rather, this morning... it was two in the morning). We cracked up. Our dear friend Tyler's voice had not yet deepened at that point, and he was going through his Monk phase. Our friend Sarah had short hair. I was... well, I looked like a retarded child with a hunched back. I mean, it was bad. I'm surprised my mother let me out of the house like that. Jesus.

Friday, November 19, 2010

10 Reasons I Adore Harry Potter

The series, not the character. I mean, I adore Harry himself, but in the title of this post, I meant the entire series- books, movies, fanfiction. Everything. JKR, Dan Radcliffe, Emma Watson and her new haircut. I mean everything.

1. I've grown up with it. My mother handed me the first book when I was six years old and said, "Read this." I suppose she'd heard of it somewhere and decided that her voracious reader of a little girl would adore it. I loathed it at first, insisting "It's a grown-up book!" Thank God she made me finish it.

2. The characters are realistic. Dumbledore doesn't do everything right. Harry's an angsty bitch. Hermione is... well, a total nerd. And Ron's a dipshit sometimes. Each of the characters has his or her own plethora of faults- some minor, some major.

3. Lots of people die. And I mean that in the least awful way possible. Really. I learned through the books that good people die eventually, and so do bad people. Everyone dies. Thankfully, I didn't learn this slightly depressing lesson until, y'know, the fourth or so book, otherwise I would've been emo at the age of twelve.

4. JKR's writing style is bitchin'. I mean, seriously! That woman can write! She's never been an eleven year old boy, or a twelve to eighteen year old boy, but she can definitely get into Harry's head and write as he would think and speak.

5. I learned about patience. When you have to wait a year and a half between books, or two or three years between movies, you start to figure out that patience is indeed a virtue. 'Nuff said.

6. Rereading the books is fun. I swear to God, every time I reread Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I find some line I don't remember from the other dozens of times I've read it, and I chuckle quietly to myself, a habit that is certainly not helping me convince my mother I'm not schizophrenic.

7. Daniel Radcliffe. Do I need an explanation for this one? He may not have green eyes, but damn.

8. The characters are relatable. When I was younger, I wanted to grow up and be Hermione Granger- then I realized, I'm already her! Everyone has a character they can relate to. Some days I feel like Granger, others I feel like Snape, but I can always find a character I can sympathize with.

9. I have fellow fangirls and fanboys. Harry Potter has the biggest and most loyal fanbase I've ever seen. Try insulting Harry Potter in front of any one of us- you will wish you had never been born (or at least never done it), I promise. If we don't cut off your head and make you eat it (supposedly impossible, but we Potterheads have our ways), we'll at least make you miserable.

10. 'Cause I can, dammit. This is how I end top-ten posts when I can't think of a tenth thing to put on the list. Heh.

Friday, November 12, 2010

"Perfect Guy" Survey

Perfect Guy Survey (with questions that actually matter)
Created by stonypony and taken 4903 times on Bzoink
Appearance- because looks are first impression.
What should be the impression given by his overall appearance?: Kept clean and neat
What would be his ideal hair color?: Brown
What would be his ideal eye color?: Blue or gray
What race would you prefer?: Caucasion
What should his complection be like?: Clear
Around how tall should he be?: 5'11"-ish
What body type?: Skinny and not too muscular
How should he dress?: Always a little over-dressed
What hair length do you prefer?: Short to medium
Do you like hats on men?: Certain types- I adore fedoras
Should he be neat and clean or a greaser?: Neat and clean!
Are there any traits you find partiuclarly attractive?: Well-groomed nails
Are there any traits you find particularly unattractive?: Chapped lips
Are there any physical traits I've missed, but you feel should be mentioned: None
Age and Economic Status- Things everyone thinks about.
What age range are you looking for?: Meh. Right now? 13-16, probably. Later in life? Anywhere within five to ten years of my age.
Does his economic status matter?: Not particularly.
Personality- The important stuff it takes a while to find out.
What is the single most important personality trait you look for?: Ability to spout witticisms
What personality trait do you find most unpleasant?: Arrogance
What are some areas of interest you would like him to share with you?: Books, math, sci-fi and fantasy, computers
Is sense of humor important to you? Elaborate.: Definitely! Sarcastic, twisted, a little dark, maybe even goofy every now and then. But humor is important.
Do you want a man with a protective personality?: A little, but not overly so.
What kind of movies would you want to watch with him?: Comedy! Parody! I want us to be able to drag each others' asses into romcoms and foreign action movies!
What kind of music would you want to listen to with him?: All kinds
What activities would you like to share with him?: Reading, watching movies, swimming, tennis
Would you object to a passion for sports?: Nah, as long as it isn't overkill
Would you get jealous when he goes out with the guys?: Hah, no! I need girl time, dude.
Should he know what you're feeling without you telling him?: Ehh. Sometimes.
Is it important to you that he buy you gifts?: Not at all, though it would (of course) be much appreciated.
Is it important to you that he spend a lot of time with you?: A certain amount of bonding is expected, but not, y'know, every minute of every day. We'd get sick of each other.
Is his level of intelligence important?: Yes; I'd prefer him be smarter than the average bear.
Would you want him to be smarter than you?: I'd like him to be smarter than me in some areas, but dumber than me in others.
Would you want him to be your provider?: No. I want to work.
Would he be aggressive?: Not usually. Probably when he goes into that protective mode we discussed earlier.
Would he be ambitious?: Yes!
Would he be tactful or blunt?: Blunt, for sure
Is it important that he have a spirit of adventure?: At the right times
Would you prefer a higly domestic man?: Like, cooking and cleaning and shit? Yeah, that'd be wonderful.
Life Goals- For when it gets serious.
Do you want children?: NO.
Do you expect to be a stay-at-home mom?: NO.
Would you ever want to be a 'housewife'?: NO.
What are your career goals?: To become a master in my field
Would it bother you if his career involved a lot of travel or long hours?: Naah.
Would you object to him being a workaholic?: Not in the least- I'll probably be a workaholic as well.
If he has a low paying or menial job, are you still interested?: Meh. He'll have to redeem himself in other areas.
Are you looking for marriage?: If it feels right, then sure
In what country would you like to live?: America or England
In what state, if U.S.?: Haven't the foggiest. Maybe Oregon.
Would you like to live in the city, country, or suburbs?: City, with some land out in the country
Would you want him to work close to home or commmute?: I don't really care. Not much further than an hour away, preferably.
If you had to pick one or the other: is he a good father or a good husband?: Husband, as I don't intend on having children.
If it came down to you or 'the baby', which would you have him choose?: Me! I don't want kids!
If you wish to have children, how many do you wish to have?: NONE!
What automobile would you want the two of you to have?: Either a hippie van or a hip, trendy small car
Conservative or liberal?: Liberal
Are politics important to you?: Yes, but if he's willing to debate, I'm game
Beliefs- the REALLY important stuff.
What is your religion?: Christian - Methodist
Is it important that he shares your beliefs?: Meh. Sorta, I guess.
Would you have a relationship with someone from a different belief system?: Depends on whether or not they intended on trying to convert me
What would you do if, after marriage, he changed his belief system?: As I said, it would depend on whether or not I would be an attempted convert
Does your belief system allow for divorce?: Yesh
Does your belief system allow abortion?: No
Morning-after pill?: FUCK IF I KNOW.
Does your belief system demand fidelity?: What? Yes, it does.
Would you want to be his first?: I honestly don't give a shit!
If you have different belief systems, which would be taught to any progeny?: This is getting ridiculous! I don't want children.
Would you celebrate Christian holidays?: Yes!
Other holidays?: Possibly!
Would you celebrate with your family or his?: Fuck, I suppose we'd split it up.
Finally- stuff that didn't fit anywhere else.
What kind of wedding do you want?: A small one. In a courthouse, possibly.
Do you want pets? If so, what kinds?: I'm not opposed to the idea. Any kind that couldn't be classified as "creepy-crawly."
Would you want him to be a college graduate?: Yes, eventually.
What sort of background/childhood would you prefer he come from?: One just as dysfunctional as mine
Is it important that he likes books?: YES.
Does he like Green Day?: Sure.
You've been totally Bzoink*d!
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My "What the Fuck?" Moment

I was informed today that Pre-Calculus is a four-point class for me and a number of other sophomores, whereas it is a six-point (or weighted) class for the juniors and seniors taking it with us. Why? Because they took Algebra w/ Trig last year. Apparently math classes are only ever weighted after you've taken four math classes already during your high school career. Which I have not. Pre-Cal is my third (I took Geometry and Algebra II last year). What the fuck?

Honestly, I think that's the most fucktarded rule I've ever heard of. I really think all the math classes you take beyond those required of you (you have to have completed Algebra II in order to graduate) should be weighted. I'm going the extra mile; stop rewarding those who don't want to work for being such shitheads (some people deserve to be left behind) and start fucking rewarding me! I deserve a weighted grade! If McMullin gets a C in that class, he gets four points averaged in with his GPA, whereas if I get a freakin' C, I get two points! My GPA is gonna go to shit all because of that fucking class.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

The Ever-Changing Goal

My "goal in life" changes a lot. I get that I'm young, so it's expected to do that, but it's still off-putting. It's my own fault, too. Back when I was (what I believe to be) depressed, I began planning everything. I thought I knew how my life was going to turn out. I was going to grow up, meet a guy right out of college, fall in love, have a kid, and be the successful American dream woman, balancing my home and career. Once I snapped out of it (rather, once I moved in with my mother and got away from the source of my depression), I realized that none of that really makes sense.

Why the hell did I try to plan my life out? Who knows when I'll meet the love of my life? I mean, I could've met him already and not even know it! Besides that, I don't even want children. What kind of awful crack was I on?

At that point in my life, I'd decided I wanted to be a high school history teacher, just like my uncle. I figured I liked history, and all my favorite teachers reminded me of me, so why not? There were lots of reasons not. If I didn't like learning to standardized tests, why did I think I would enjoy teaching to those same standardized tests? I have issues with authority figures even when I agree with them. That situation wouldn't have ended well at all.

The issue with realizing that I was in a really bad place back then and wasn't thinking straight is that now I know that I, you know, don't know anything. I know I don't want kids, but that's about it. I get that I'm a selfish human being who doesn't want to set her career back, and I know that I want to fall in love. That's just about the extent of my knowledge of myself. Not even kidding.

I take career suggestion tests all the time because I have no clue what I want to do with my life. Actually, that's not true- I have clues. Lots and lots of clues. A veritable ocean of clues. In all honesty, there are more fields I'm interested in than there are followers of this blog (not saying a whole lot, but you get the message).

"You should work with computers." A lot of people suggest that. My step-dad told me I should do something where I can "analyze the shit outta something." I agree whole-heartedly. My Mimi wants me to go into a field in which I can use my knowledge to the best of my ability. She wants me to be a doctor. Doesn't matter that I hate biology and can't stand studying cells- she's convinced I should be a doctor and find the cure for cancer.

I kinda want to do something involving law enforcement. I like the idea of catching the bad guy. I've looked into jobs where I could analyze things like JT suggested, and it seems like criminal psychology would be a good bet for me. I don't like the idea of saying, "I want to do this!" because it seems whenever I become certain of something, I lose interest or it floats away.

Slightly philosophical blog posts FTW?

I'd love comments on if you know what you want to be "when you grow up," even if you're an adult. I love asking these kinds of questions. One time I asked an attorney and he said he wanted to grow up and be the Grinch. (He was kinda strange.)

Thursday, October 14, 2010

My Zombie Apocalypse Bug Out Bag

I was surfing through the Zombie Survival Wiki and came across this brilliant little euphemism: the Bug Out Bag (link in title of post). I call it a euphemism because I think a far more appropriate name would be the "Holy Shit! Zombies! IMMA GET OUTTA HURR! Bag." But I digress.

Range Weapons: Slingshot (for rocks), JT's gun/ammo,

Melee Weapons: Hammer,
Food & Water: Bottle of Gatorade, bottle of Coke, two bottles of water, vitamins, jar of peanut butter, English muffins,
Lighting: Flashlight, candles, keychain with LED light,
Information: Two notebooks, pens, pencils,
Communication: Walkie-talkies and spare batteries, cell phone and charger,
Survival: Whistle (rape or survival, doesn't matter), mini-mirror,
Clothing: Spare jeans, jacket (worn, not carried, if possible), socks, spare tennis shoes
Camp Kitchen: Fork, spoon, bowl, empty can,
Fire Starting: Lighter, matches, second notebook
Entertainment: Playing cards, Apples to Apples To Go,
Hunting/Fishing: Heh. Crap. Whoops. Next.
Optics: Glasses, spare glasses, prescription sunglasses in the case,

Personal Hygiene: Toothbrush, toothpaste, chapstick, small bottle of hand sanitizer,
Shelter: Fuzzy red blanket, small pillow,
Maintenance/Tools: Glasses cleaner and cloth,
Repair Kit/Supplies: Duct tape, scissors, super glue, pocketknife with the little mini-tool things, two screwdrivers (different heads)
First Aid Kit: Band-aids, hydrogen peroxide, gauze, Tylenol,

Carrier or Bag: Purple hiking backpack thing,
Other/Special: Pepper spray,

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Ten Reasons My Friend Xeno Kicks Ass

Well, I have this friend. His name is Grayson, but I don't allow anyone to call him that. If you meet him, you have to call him Xeno, otherwise I may or may not crucify him. He and I have only seen each other in real life a few times, and have only had one physical conversation, but we're pretty tight online. Thank you, Facebook. A few moments ago, I told Xeno to give me something to blog about. He told me to write about my badass eighth grade friend who can't spell for shit. I told him I'd get right on that.

1. He's a criminal mastermind.  
Xeno is what most people would call unethical or immoral. He prefers other words, like "commie" and "awesome," but I know the truth. All this means he has a black hole where his heart should be. In a good way.

2. He's freakin' hilarious.
This Xeno guy makes me laugh. Really hard. In the face. He and I have exactly three metric shit-tons of inside jokes, and the end is anything but near. Honestly, if Xeno were a comedian, he would... okay, so maybe he wouldn't be too successful, but I'd totally download illegal versions of his albums from the Pirate Bay. (I joke! I would never do such a thing! Heh.)

3. He doesn't make fun of my Britishisms.
He really can't make fun of my British spellings and slang, otherwise he'd be a complete and utter hypocrite, but I still appreciate that he doesn't insist on American word usage. It gets irritating when I'm innocently (or not-incredibly-innocently, if you count certain conversations I've had) chatting away on Facebook and someone nails me with a "You spelled that wrong! It's 'organize,' not 'organise!'" and I have to point out that they are, in fact, a cultural jackass.

4. He's open about himself. 
Almost scarily so. Xeno is not afraid to tell anyone certain things about himself (or so it seems to me, the chick who hides with her secrets in the shadows of the alleyways off the streets of society). Since we first spoke (or, rather, typed) with each other, he has told me many things that, if I were him, I would have kept under lock and key.

5. He doesn't tell me to eat meat.
Not once has Xeno told me that I "have to" eat meat. This is quite the feat, as most people are constantly telling me that there's no way I'm getting enough protein without ingesting flesh (despite the fact that I actually get more protein than your average fleshy, or meat-eater, most of the time). Xeno honestly just doesn't give a shit what I eat.

6. He gave me a present.
He's threatened to give me a number of gifts (a machete, a vibrator, and the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, to name a few), but a few days ago Xeno actually went through with it! I am now the proud owner of a pocketknife. It has a little scissor thingy that amuses me to no end. That is all on this topic.

7. He lets me ramble.
Most people give me about thirty seconds to ramble and then decide to cut me short with an "Artemis, get to the damn point already." Not Xeno. Today he actually encouraged me to tell him a story about my cats. Encouraged! The fact that Xeno allows me to ramble without cutting me off makes me enormously happy.

8. He uses proper grammar.
Most of the time, that is. Xeno also has this tendency to use proper capitalisation, something almost unheard of here on the internets. I have a feeling that if he didn't suck at typing, he would probably spell things correctly as well. As it is, he frequently makes typos and has been known to say such things as, "Fuck typing."

9. He understands the word "privacy."
Xeno gets that some people don't share everything. There are even a few things about Xeno that I don't know. There are (for sure) a lot of things about me that Xeno doesn't know, and unlike some people (ahem, I'm talking to you, Pretty Princess), he doesn't demand that I inform him of my every little thing. Granted, I usually bitch to him about most things anyways, but it's nice to know that he understands secrecy.

10. He makes awesome cookies.
I'm not even kidding. Xeno is the Queen of Baked Goods. I swear to God, he must put, like, unicorn blood and magic in his cookies. And crushed sleeping pills, because after I ate about twelve the other day, I was exhausted. Those chocolate chip cookies are definitely in my list of the top ten tastiest things I've ever eaten.

Those are the ten (main) reasons my friend Xeno kicks ass, even though he's a muffinfucking jackwagon communist who deserves to burn in Hell.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Should Obama's Religion Matter?

Well, should it?

I don't think it should. I know a lot of people that want to vote for "wholesome" (read: money-grubbing, embezzling, fiendish) Christian men who are generally middle-aged, white, and heterosexual. I, personally, don't take that view, and here's why.

Like I've said before, I try to take ideas and political suggestions in on a case-by-case basis. I don't think Obama's right for our country at this point in time, but do still take the time to think about and really consider what he says. I still arrive at "Hell no!" most of the time, but every now and then I agree with a little something or other he's said. Granted, I can't think of any of these occasions off the top of my head, but I'm sure there are some.

Anyways, my original question was, "Should Obama's religion matter? Why or why not?" My answer is, "No, and because I firmly believe in the separation of church and state." I'm not alone, in that belief, either. All our founding fathers- as far as my research can tell- were Christians who were heavily influenced by Deist beliefs. They were heavily involved in the Enlightenment movement, not zealots spreading the word of God. George Washington was not running from religious persecution when the United States of America was founded. (That was the Pilgrims; the period of history we're talking here is centuries later.) What Washington and the other important figures in our nation's creation- hey, that rhymed!- were fighting (not running from, but fighting- they were pretty badass) was simply taxation without representation.

My country was not founded on Christian beliefs, and therefore I do not think that whether or not Obama is a Christian should really matter. Does he cheat on his wife? He's not a good guy, but as long as he's still fulfilling his duties as our President, he stays. Does he make his daughter marry her rapist because he refuses to let her birth a child out of wedlock? Once again, he's a jerk, but we have to put up with him. Does he violate the Constitution? Kick the bastard out.

I don't care what he does in his spare time. I don't care if he only goes to Church on Easter and Christmas, or if he's there every Sunday. I also don't care if he's Jewish. And quite frankly, I don't give a damn if he's atheist. In my opinion, that's his loss, but I repeat, that's simply my opinion. I don't bring this up when I'm talking politics. Why? Because I don't think it matters. I can't repeat that enough.

This sounds basic and crude, but I just want him to do his damn job, and I want him to do it right. As long as he doesn't do illegal or unconstitutional things "for his faith," then what does it matter? I want my president to not bring his faith into his politics. I don't care if he doesn't think a man and another man should be allowed to get married. I honest-to-God could not care less. However, I will begin to care when he approves bills that ban gay marriage. Is there any reason out there for this that isn't religious?

I know, I always end up going back to gay marriage, but that, animal welfare, and domestic abuse are my three causes I always freak out over. Sorry.

Anyways, this post contains way more rambling than I originally intended. What do you think? Should Obama's (or any politician's) religious faith matter?

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

I'm Stupid and My Phone's Number Pad No Longer Functions Properly

Yes, today's title is fairly literal, kids. I was out dancing in the rain today and had my phone tucked in the side of my bra, as per the usual (good for school 'cause no teacher's gonna look there, good for everywhere else 'cause no thief's gonna reach there without me noticing). I came inside and started to text Hot Chocolate, but some of the buttons were fucked up. Oh, no, I thought, not a repeat of what happened in March! [Yes, fuckers, this moron had to get her mother's old phone (the one that got wet today) because she pranced into the ocean with her old one in her pocket. And it failed at life from then on. It also had sand in it, which probably didn't help the situation any.]

Immediately after discovering that I may completely reenact March of 2010, I dumped my phone into our bag of white rice, because I distinctly remember reading this all across the interwebs. Then I did a Google and tried the first thing I saw: hair dryer. I then returned the phone to the rice baggy. I did a little more Googling. Apparently the hair dryer thing is a terrible idea as it can melt things inside the phone and push moisture further in, but that's what I did. I then read that vacuum cleaner hoses can help bring the moisture out, so I went upstairs, plugged in the vacuum, and attacked the phone with that for a few minutes. I (once again) returned my phone to the white rice, and here I sit, writing a blog post.

Damn my hobbies. Why did I have to decide dancing in the rain is lovely and fun? Why couldn't I decide dancing inside is amazing? Whatever. I'll keep you posted on the phone's progress.

Also, HOLY SHIT I haven't posted in FOREVER!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Wal-Mart Will Stalk You Through Your Undies

Well, they say they won't, but they certainly will have the ability once they begin installing RFID (Radio Frequency Identification) chips in jeans and underwear next month, in order to more efficiently track their shipments of your mother's XXL boot-cuts.

But Artemis, you whine, rudely interrupting my subtle attempts at a yo-mama joke, I don't know what a Radio Friggin' Doohickey is. Why should I care? It's like a bar code, right? They've been using bar codes since the seventies, and nobody gives a crap about 'em. At this point, I'm ready to smack you in the face. First off, you interrupted me. That is not cool, my friend. Not cool. Secondly, no, RFID chips and bar codes are not the same thing. They do have one basic thing in common (both of them contain a certain amount of data, and when they're read, this data is sent to a "reading device," like a computer or cash register, which uses that information to do important things like figure out what it is you're attempting to buy or make sure your passport is the real deal), but the way they do their jobs is so different, it's like comparing Elmo (the bar code: sweet, if a little slow) with Oscar the fucking Grouch (the RFID chip: a slimy son of a bitch who'll cuss you out soon as he'll look at ya).

See, a bar code is a printed series of bars that form a code. (Gettit? That's why it's called a bar code.) When a magic wand is waved over this series of bars, elves appear and make the computer register the fact that you are adding the Deluxe Blu-Ray edition of All Dogs Go to Heaven to your pile of things to buy. The bar code must be visible to the scanner-wand, and the average furthest the bar code can be is about 12 inches. On the total opposite side of the tech spectrum, an RFID chip is a small (like, teeny-tiny) chip that is installed- sewn, implanted, etc.- in whatever it is the installer is trying to track. Not only do RFID chips not have to be visible in order to be read, but they also can be read at pretty amazing distances (one was read from a distance of 69 feet at DEFCON, and that was in 2005- just think about how much technology in general has improved since then!). They can even be read through wallets (if a criminal has the right equipment, they can bump into you, get close enough to your credit cards to scan the numbers and info off them, and use those numbers to purchase things online- and you won't even know about it until your statement comes at the end of the month, unless the credit card company decides to freeze your card) and cars (like the FasTrak®, which can be used to drive non-stop through toll plazas in San Fran- the FasTrak® is read by magical RFID-readers inside the toll booths, and suddenly they not only have a record of all your comings and goings through the toll plaza... they have a record of where you've been the entire month!).

If a Wal-Mart employee forgot to rip out or disable the RFID chip in your jeans (the latter of which is actually impossible- they can stop monitoring it, but unless it gets killed- more on that in a moment- the chip will never really be disabled), then all of a sudden Wal-Mart can see where your pants, and therefore you on the days you wear those pants, are going. They'll know where you eat lunch, what grocery store you shop at, that you're heading to Tony's apartment four nights a week. 

My preferred method of killing an RFID chip is sticking that mofo in the microwave. Nuking that SOB for 30 seconds ought to do the trick. Leaves an arc of burnt metal, but whatever. You are no longer being tracked. Or even potentially tracked.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Independence Day Festivities

I call it Independence Day, because Fourth of July makes you sound like a retard. Independence Day makes it sound like a real holiday, drawn from deep within our nation's history; Fourth of July seems like some dudes just wanted an excuse to set off fireworks and drink cold beer on their front lawn. "So... uh... wanna blow some shit up this weekend?" "Can I bring my kids?" "Yeah, sure. Bring some beer, too." "Okay. Uh... why are we doing this?" "Er... what's Saturday's date?" "July fourth." "'Cause it's the fuckin' Fourth of July, man!"*

This weekend I get to go to a marina in Maryville where my stepdad keeps his boat and watch the fireworks there like we did last year. My dad has the rest of the kids since he and mom are supposed to alternate each year, but- to quote him directly- "It kinda seems like you have your own agenda, so whatever you want to do is fine." And quite frankly, I'm good with spending as little time with the she-devil (ahem, stepmother) and her demon spawn (I MEANT STEPBROTHER!) as possible.

In honor of this holiday (whatever you choose to call it), I changed the design of this blog to something American yet still without much class. Unheard of, right? It was fun to change around the looks- I know I promised the old layout would be there to stay, but when Blogger updated to a "Template Designer (new!)" I couldn't resist trying it out. I'm happy to tell you I love it. Definitely something to try if you like tinkering with appearances!

So, what are your plans for Independence Day/Fourth of July? What do you call it? I look forward to the interesting responses I'm sure I'll glean from y'all.

*Don't tell me you didn't imagine Will Ferrell saying that. Just me?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Top 10 Lies Teachers Have Told Me

We've all been lied to at some point or other: "Coffee will stunt your growth." "Santa won't bring you anything if you keep acting like that, you little shit." "I love you." Being lied to is a part of life, something you just have to get used to unless you're a character in a Ricky Gervais movie. As it turns out, our beloved teachers and educators (not always the same people, y'know) are no different than the rest of us when it comes to twisting the truth.

10. "No, Harry Potter does not relate to the standard curriculum in any way, shape, or form."
9. "Not to worry! Our cafeteria has many vegetarian options!"
8. "Of course immortals aren't real. Nothing lives forever."
7. "Our nation's founders were all good, Christian men."
6. "High school is difficult to adjust to."
5. "Former President Bush is an intelligent man."
4. "This won't be on the exam, so don't worry."
3. "Why, yes, this theorem has many real-life applications!"
2. "Sarcastic people never get far in life, Artemis."
1. "Of course I didn't vote for President Obama!"

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Uberman Sleep Schedule

I'm going to start this post with a few shamelessly "borrowed" quotes from Cracked.com, mmk? The writer of the 5 Ways to Hack Your Brain into Awesomeness post has phrased it so much better than I ever could:

"What if we told you there was a way to sleep for little more than two hours a day, and still feel more refreshed than taking a 12-hour siesta on a bed made entirely out of baby kitten fur?

"It's called the Uberman Sleep Schedule, and besides having a totally badass name, it's a way to get the maximum amount of essential sleep for your body without wasting hours of precious time you could be using to work or drink or farm for World of Warcraft gold. The schedule consists of taking six, 20-30 minute power naps, every four hours during the day. Of course, this new sleep pattern blows donkey-dick to get used to, but it's a price you have to pay to basically extend your waking life by several years.

"The best way to start it off is to just jump right in. Get to sleep at 8pm, set your alarm for 8:30. Get up, play some Call of Duty, sleep again at 12, alarm at 12:30, and so on. After three or four days of this you will start to get high as fuck because of sleep deprivation, and might just want to kill yourself, but don't do it! That would be absolutely counter-productive.
"By day 10 or so, your brain will say, 'Fuck! FINE, we'll do it your way,' and will adapt to your new superhuman sleep schedule."

So... yeah. This is what I'm doing! I'll be sleeping on the following schedule for the remainder of the summer, and if things go well, I'll continue on into the school year! (I'm perfectly capable of sleeping through lunch. Not like I haven't done it before, y'know?) The stuff inside the parentheses (in italics, for unnecessary emphasis) is my probable location on a school day.

Nap 1 3:00-3:30 AM (home)
Nap 2 7:00-7:30 AM (in the car)
Nap 3 11:00-11:30 AM (cafeteria)
Nap 4 3:00-3:30 PM (library/home)
Nap 5 7:00-7:30 PM (home)
Nap 6 11:00-11:30 PM (home)

According to what I've read on the subject (a great deal, incidentally), it's possible to move the beginning of the naps up to twenty minutes either way and not suffer any ill effects. It's skipping them that puts you in deep feces.

I anticipate our household will suddenly be spending a lot more on coffee.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

7 People Who Have Changed My Life

There are a lot of people who change your life every day. That obnoxious guy in third period made you roll your eyes, the stranger who almost ran over you made you give him the bird, and the cashier/bagger duo at Publix made you laugh at their antics.

However, these aren't the people I'm talking about. Although they influence you in some minuscule way or other, they don't have a lasting impression on you (or at least, they usually don't). No, in this post, I'm going to focus on the people who have changed the way I see myself and the world.

1. Katie Collins has made me closer to God. Whatever feelings of irritation I originally felt that she was so religious are now gone, permanently replaces with a deep feeling of gratitude. Without her, I would never have felt as close to God as I do now. We may have a few fuzzy differences in opinion when it comes to worship, prayer, and the like, but that doesn't matter in the long run: without her, I would never have even believed in God, and would have committed suicide last November when I was convinced there was nobody in the who gave a flying fuck about me. I thank Katie for assuring me that there's much more than a crowd of people who care about me: I've got the big guy in the sky on my side.

2. Ryan Philipp has made me love history. History's one of my passions now, but I would probably still think of it as boring if it weren't for Coach Phil. The first day of class, I thought, "Now this guy really loves history." Well, yeah, you say. He's a history teacher, for Christ's sake. Still, though, I was surprised by the way Phil (as we students affectionately call him) managed to be so enthusiastic about what I had, until that point, thought of as the one subject where even the teachers seem to have a bit of distaste for it. I became determined to figure out why this man was so interested in history, and I'm glad to say that I found some amazing things in my textbook. (Well, okay, in the lecture notes, seeing as we never used our textbook, but whatever.)

3. Gregory Onision has made me vegetarian. He was the first one to convince me that eating animals isn't only immoral, it's also not healthy. Through his videos on YouTube, I discovered things- over the course of a few days- it would have taken me months to find out any other way. His videos encompass a wide range of other things, too, so even when I'm not in the mood to be re-lectured on how meat isn't just murder, it's suicide, I can still have a challenging three and a half minutes, thinking logically about what he's said. Onision isn't preaching, he's informing. (Thank Merlin for that.)

4. Amy Gleaves, whether or not she meant to, made my life a living hell for a few months. I burned myself with matches and lighters (no scars are left from that, thank God), I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I had to call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline four times over the course of three weeks. I finally found a way to literally move away from the situation, but being around her still hurts. I don't think this woman will ever fully understand the extent of the damage and havoc her presence wreaked on my body. I don't blame her 100%, but I know I will never- no matter what anyone says- be able to see her as an innocent bystander when it comes to my mental health.

5. Regina Spektor- yes, the singer- has inspired me to write music. I am teaching myself to play piano, and it's going pretty well, if I do say so myself. I'm in the process of adding music to my previously vocals-only songs. The amazing ReSpekt is not the only person responsible for my not-incredibly-sudden foray into the world of music, but she's definitely played a major role. Her music is very unique, and since I first heard a song by her, I've wanted to sound as great as she does (with my own style, of course).

6. Steve Reed gave me discipline. He is, quite possibly, the best damn English teacher the world has ever seen. I mean, this guy means business! Mr. Reed (no nicknames from students for this guy!) is a hardcore disciplinarian, and definitely one to correct your word usage. He's well-known for saying things like, "No, you did not accidentally leave your homework in your locker. You did not trip, fall, and leave it in your locker, did you? No, you mistakenly left it. Now go get it. Do it again and you'll have lunch detention." Everyone in my class had a love-hate relationship with the old man. We loved him and his life lessons (and he could ramble on about some life lessons, let me tell ya), but hated him once we got in trouble. Typical eighth graders. Anyways, the guy made me understand that putting in effort is, you know, a good thing.

7. Mary Frances Rudy has provided me with more cultural experiences than I ever thought possible. With my Mimi, I've been swimming with dolphins and stingrays, met some extremely interesting people (not nearly as interesting as the stingrays, though!), and wandered aimlessly through art galleries on cruise ships. This woman is a piece of work, for sure, but she's also an incredible person. Thanks to her, I've done things many people may never have the chance to do- and I've also learned not to take such things for granted. I squeeze the most I can out of every trip I go on with her, every play I see.

There you have it. Those people have had profound effects on my life in general; I didn't bother listing the obvious (my mum and dad for making it all possible, hehe... oh God, the mental images... ew). I certainly hope you've enjoyed this weird little insight into my world. I've said some things that I haven't really ever told anyone- how odd that the first entity I share them with should be the internet.

This post required quite a bit of soul-searching, let me tell you. I mean, there are tons of people I know have changed me- that wasn't the hard bit. The difficult part was figuring out how they'd changed me. I mean, seriously! You ever tried to think about it?

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Ink Me Up!

Yes, I'm talking about tattoos. I've been thinking about the possibility since about halfway through seventh grade. I'm now 99% sure I'm going to get at least one. I don't know why the idea is so appealing: it could be that it would grab attention, but I don't think that's it.

I know that not all tattoos have meanings, but mine would be rather special. The meanings, as you will see, are not the most traditional.

http://a3.twimg.com/profile_images/510140361/WolfPawPrint_bigger.jpg I would get a wolf paw print on the upper, inner part of my left breast. There are a few reasons for this: my favorite character in the Harry Potter series, the character who has really affected my life, is Remus Lupin. He is a werewolf, and the character just absolutely demands my respect. Whenever I'm in a difficult situation, I ask myself, "What would Remus do?" just because most of the things Jesus does, I'm incapable of doing. (To quote Daniel Tosh, "So I lit him on fire and sent him to Hell!")

http://www.clipartandcrafts.com/clipart/themes/animals/images/pawprint.gifIf I was still up for it after recovering from the wolf paw print, I would get a dog paw print on the front edge of my right hip. I love animals (founder of SETA in the hizzy-house), and I want to show anyone who's close enough to see my hip that.

http://lh4.ggpht.com/_2btO2nKpQl4/SlfQ7nPa8UI/AAAAAAAAAn4/3OS79sS3tL4/s288/Deathly%20Hallows%20sign.jpg This one would be on the outside of my left ankle. I understand that tattoos on areas lacking in fatty tissue tend to be the most painful, which is why this one is very simple: just a triangle with a line down the center and a circle in the middle. If you recognize the symbol, you know why I'm getting it. If you don't, I don't want to explain why it means so much.

Well, now you know. The only issue I would have with getting tattoos is that you (apparently) have to absolutely slather the things with sunscreen if you don't want them to fade. Oh, well. I think it would be worth it.

Friday, May 14, 2010

This is Offensive

Warning: I may very well piss you off. In fact, I probably will.

I don't really end up conforming to a certain set of political beliefs. I'm not liberal. I'm not conservative. Here's my take on some of the most prominent differences:

  1. I think citizens should be allowed to carry guns. I don't think it should be nearly as difficult as it currently is to get a permit.
  2. I think abortion should be up to the woman. She is the one who has to carry the fetus inside of her for nine months.
  3. I don't think teenagers should have to have parental consent to get a condom or The Pill.
  4. I think minors should have to have parental consent to get an abortion, unless they're emancipated (since it's a surgery).
  5. Politicians' religious views (and/or their homophobia) should not be brought into the legislative process, dammit.
  6. I think people should be able to marry whatever gender suits them (male/male, male/female, female/female- it doesn't matter).
  7. Reverse-discrimation is not the solution to racism.
  8. Immigrants (here's a shout-out to Costa and Louis!) shouldn't have such a hard time gaining legal citizenship. This should be as simple as signing up for the SAT. Get Mexico to cooperate. Make sure they pass the test. Make sure they aren't a felon. BOOM. Citizenship.
That's all I can think of now. If I think of any more, I may add to this and create a series.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Oh, PUH-lease

Honestly, sometimes I can barely stand my own species. My own gender, even.

Women need to stop acting all shocked and angry when they notice a guy "noticing" their breasts. Seriously, it's what guys do. They see boobs, they're gonna look. It doesn't matter if you're a 30B or a 46D. Men like breasts. That's why they've invented all sorts of names for them. (This is also why there's four words for fried batter and only one word for love... think about it.)

"But Artemis," some will plea, "it's degrading! We're as good as men, so they shouldn't treat us any differently!" No, you stupid. You are too different from that guy: you have boobs. And anyways, if no guy checked you out for a whole month, you'd start bitching about it.

So, yeah. Just so all my male readers know, no, you will never win with these women. It's impossible.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

I'm in Need

And it is not a comfortable thing.

I've never been in need before. I've always- well, for as long as I can remember- had food. I've had a fridge. I've never been without electricity at home for five straight days.

I don't feel like I'm in need, but apparently I am. I feel like, well, I might not have lighting or a full pantry*, but... I don't know. I guess this is what it feels like, though. I'm incredibly grateful for all the help we've received and the kind people around Nashville- the Jews up at the Jewish Community Center that gave us tennis shoes and deodorant (both of which were desperately needed, let me tell ya), the Section II Clubhouse here in River Plantation (great food!), Logan's Roadhouse (free dinner last night), and the folks at 107.5 The River (best top 40 radio station evar), who donated $225,000 to the various shelters.

For those of you not in the know, Nashville experienced some serious flooding. My mom's house only got a foot of water, but a foot does enough damage. We ripped out all the carpet and laminate on the bottom floor of the house, as well as the bottom two feet of all the drywall. Since we're in a condo, you can look through that bottom two feet and see inside the neighbors' house.

And, on top of all this, it's been in the nineties temperature-wise lately, so of course the damn mold is setting in where people aren't properly drying things.

Next door, the lady was just kind of sitting in her wet carpet. After two days. So me, Mom, Todd, Nama (by grandmother), and David (Todd's friend) went in there and ripped up all that carpet, and got rid of the stuff that was gonna mold, and just worked our asses off for about six hours. So then I went to bed smelling kinda musty, with a bit of wet carpet perfume and cat piss cologne mixed in there. (Yeah, she has a ton of cats, and she's lived in that place for twenty-five years.)

Anyways. I'm staying at my grandmother's tonight and going to work with her, now that we're at a standstill at the condo, waiting for things to dry. There's not much I could really do there, so I'm going to her office to hang out.

Have a wonderful freaking evening, internet.

*Though we did rip the pantry out, so I guess it couldn't be full regardless of the situation.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Only 15 Hours Left!

Just in case you care: there's only 15 hours left to vote on my poll! Look over at the top of the right-hand column, please. Observe the poll. Now vote.

Prom Day

Today is prom day. No, I'm not going (I'm apparently one of the few freshmen who aren't?). There are a few benefits to prom day, even if you're not going:

1. You get to choose your lunch period if enough people are absent :D There are only two lunch periods today, and since the teacher gets to choose which one you go to (meh), there's at least a 50/50 chance you'll get to sit with people you normally wouldn't be able to.

2. Most people are absent. Including the ones you don't like. Heh.

3. You get to hang out in the A+ lab when your second period teacher, the one in charge of prom, leaves early. Woo! And then you can blog!

4. You get to take balloons out to aforementioned second period teacher's car rather than do your freaking Algebra II homework. The only downfall is that there's always a chance you'll practically fall on a curb and end up pulling a muscle in your hip, of all places.

And those are four benefits to prom day I can really appreciate, even though I'm not going.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Fuckin' Baby Boomers

If I have to hear another word about Baby Boomers, I'll shoot someone. I hear about this generation everywhere. I mean this literally: everywhere. In the news. In casual conversation. In my textbooks.

I'm aware that they are influencing the economy. I'm aware that they are a large generation. But honestly, why are we obsessed with the elderly? I'm not saying they don't matter, but studies have proven that happiness actually increases throughout the sixties and into the eighties and beyond. They don't need for us to wait on them, hand and foot.

There are 75.8 million boomers (born from 1946-1964). Some of them probably haven't made it this far, so we'll round down to 67 million. The total US population is approximately 309,119,859. This means that boomers constitute a grand total of 21% of the population. My approximation of the number of adolescents (aged 10-18) is 38 million*. That means that the number of citizens born in an eighteen-year time period have only 1.99 times as many people (75.8/38) as those born in a short eight-year period, when really this number should be closer to 2.25 (18/8). 

All this math should prove to you a few things: a) I have way too much time on my hands, b) Baby Boomers are not that big of a deal, and we need to focus on those who have a higher number of people compared to the amount of time we gave them to be born, and c) I forgot what this was supposed to be, but if I only have two things to say, I'll look like a moron.

So there.

*I couldn't find any direct information on this (thanks, US Census!), but in 1993, there were approximately 31 million adolescents in the US. I plugged this number into a proportion comparing the US populations in 1990 and 2010.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

50 Dire Questions Answered

1. What is your name spelled backwards? kcalB simetrA

2. Where were your parents born? Mom was born in Frankfurt, Germany. Dad was born somewhere in Estonia, I do believe.

3. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? "True Stories I Made Up" (a comedy album by Daniel Tosh)

4. What's your favorite restaurant? O'Charley's or Applebee's.

5. Last time you swam in a pool? Yesterday.

6. Have you ever been in a school play? Fo sho.

7. How many kids do you want? None.

8. Type of music you dislike most? Opera. I like pretty much everything else.

9. Are you registered to vote? Nope.

10. Do you have cable? My parents do.

11. Have you ever ridden on a moped? Don't think so.

12. Ever prank call anybody? Well, duh!

13. Ever get a parking ticket? I don't drive, so no.

14. Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? I would do once- just to be able to honestly say I've done it.

15. Furthest place you ever traveled? Jamaica and the Caiman Islands.

16. Do you have a garden? HA! Me? With plants? Riight.

17. What's your favorite comic strip? xkcd

18. Do you really know all the words to your national anthem? Yes.

19. Bath or Shower, morning or night? Shower at night- I sleep with my hair in a towel and by morning it's mostly dry, falling in tendrils.

20. Best movie you've seen in the past month? How to Train Your Dragon.

21. Favorite pizza topping? Black olives.

22. Chips or popcorn? Chips. Plain potato chips.

23. What color lipstick do you usually wear? Peachy-pink or candy-pink.

24. Have you ever smoked peanut shells? Um, no.

25. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? ZOMGLOL. No.

26. Orange or Apple juice? Orange with no pulp. If there is pulp, then I will take apple.

27. Who was the last person you went out to dinner with and where did you dine? My maternal grandmother and I went to Cancun.

28. Favorite type chocolate bar? That stuff from Trader Joe's. The extra-dark with like 72% more something-or-other.

29. When was the last time you voted at the polls? I have yet to.

30. Last time you ate a homegrown tomato? The summer before my parents got divorced. When we grew tomatoes.

31. Have you ever won a trophy? Not that I can remember, but there's always the possibility.

32. Are you a good cook? Average, I think.

33. Do you know how to pump your own gas? Yeah, even though I don't drive yet. I got my grandmother to show me how.

34. Ever order an article from an infomercial? No.

35. Sprite or 7-up? Sprite- I do have a small amount of sanity, you know.

36. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to work? Never had a real job, but if I get hired at Publix like I want, then I'll have to.

37. Last thing you bought at a pharmacy? Tampons, probably.

38. Ever throw up in public? In a public restroom.

39. Would you prefer being a millionaire or find true love? Honestly? Being a millionaire. I know, that may make me seem like a heartless bitch, but whatever.

40. Do you believe in love at first sight? Yep.

41. Ever call a 1-900 number? Uh... I don't believe so.

42. Can exes be friends? On occasion.

43. Who was the last person you visited in a hospital? Hmm. I dunno, actually.

44. Did you have a lot of hair when you were a baby? I don't remember (obviously), but according to my mother, I had "an average baby amount of hair." I don't even know what that means.

45. What message is on your answering machine? It's a recording from peta2 (Silverstein): "Hey! Silverstein here! The person you're trying to reach isn't here right now, so leave a message- and while you're waiting, go to peta2.com!"

46. What's your all time favorite Saturday Night Live Character? Bon Qui Qui (she was SNL, right?) or that "Can I have yo numba?" guy (was he SNL?).

47. What was the name of your first pet? Yoda. It was my first stepdad's cat. He was fat and mean (the cat, not the stepdad).

48. What is in your purse? A crumpled dollar bill, some coins, cell phone, iPod, camera, few sheets of paper, broken ink pen, working pen, unsharpened pencil, sharpened pencil, graphing calculator.

49. Favorite thing to do before bedtime? Shower, then text.

50. What is one thing you are grateful for today? I'm grateful that I don't have a birth defect (walked a marathon for retarded kids today with Todd).

Monday, April 12, 2010

Stage... Anxiety

In Beginning Theatre, we're doing our first memorized performances (though we're still allowed- encouraged, in fact- to bring our scripts onstage with us as "security blankets" this time around). And I'm a little anxious. I've never really had stage fright; I've been a dancer since I was about five, and I've performed with a professional ballet company at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center (TPAC, for y'all Nashville savvies). You get over stage fright when you do that. But it still takes a big, heaving push to get me in front of people. So what do I do? I take Theatre.

It's helped. It really has. I still have to take a breath before I go on, and at first I'm a little tense, but I don't feel like I'm going to throw up like some of my classmates have said they do. I just get anxious.

It's like I need encouragement or something. I dunno. I never think I'm doing something right, regardless of whether I am, in reality, doing it correctly or not. It's a thing I have. Like counting stuff. (I count stuff: letters in words, steps on a staircase, etc.) It's me. It's a quirk of mine, I suppose.

Or a mental disorder.

Whichever, really.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Facebook Fiend

If you're my friend on Facebook, you can probably access my USPS account online. How? Here are the security questions you can choose from on the USPS website, and here's how easy it is to find the answers.

What is your mother's maiden name? Ha! Just go to my profile, find the section where it displays my parents, and there you go.

What is your favorite movie? You know where you put in all your favorite movies in your profile? Remember how last time you watched Titanic you wouldn't shut up about how much you love that movie?

What is your favorite sport? If it's your favorite sport, you probably play. If you play, you probably mention it at some point or another.

What is your favorite food to eat? (A.D.D. Moment: What else would my favorite food be for?) Again, I've probably mentioned my favorite food a thousand times. Every time I eat it, I'm all, "OMG!"

What is the name of your pet? Are you for serious? All you have to do is troll my profile for "I'm feeding the damn cat again. God, I hate you, Bootsy." I mean, Jeebus, you don't even have to be my Facebook friend- just read through my blog archive!

What is your favorite holiday? This is a crappy question. There aren't all that many holidays- it's a matter of trial and error. Again, you don't even have to be my Facebook friend. Just guess.

In what city were you born in? (Another A.D.D. Moment: You don't have to say "in" twice, stupid.) This is a lot like the "mother's maiden name" question. Skip to my birthplace on my Facebook profile and type in the city.

USPS's only saving grace (and also its curse) is that you have to have your username in order to reset your password. I'm sure we've all forgotten our username at some point or other, and it's right frustrating to be told you can't even get an email reminder for it. Also, if you reset your password, all stored credit card information will be deleted. Just in case you decided you wanted to use my credit card to buy a huge P.O. box for 12 months for $600.

If you have my username, you probably have my email address. It's easy enough to figure out the answers to those questions as well- all Facebook-able within an hour or so.

In other words, I really hope none of my Facebook friends have any interest in my USPS account, because if they do, I'm completely screwed.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

This Atrocity I Call a Love Life?

Well, here are all the males that have- throughout freshman year- affected this thing you could almost call a love life.

With boy one, things have changed- I'm completely over him. Boy two: how the hell could I have ever liked that thing? Boy three- well, he's kind of faded out. Boy four is avoiding me, and that pisses me off. Boy five, I think I'm in love with. Boy six won't bloody well leave me alone, and that really pisses me off. Boy seven likes me (I'm pretty sure), and he's just adorable.

There you go. If you know me, you're probably going, "Seven?! YOU?!" And my reply will be, "Yeah."

By the way, I just have to say this and hope that the right person sees it: "Thanks for the Gatorade, man." 'Cause I can't say it to your face. Maybe someone will pass it along?

Monday, March 22, 2010

Omegle Featurette: Healthcare Opinions (AKA: Scream)

Today I decided to do something I deemed interesting. In light of the recent health care bill I know you all know has been passed, I've gone beyond my usual complaining. Beyond typing a few bad words. What sparked this, you ask? I wanted to know the varying opinions of people from not just my neighborhood- not just my state- not even just my country. I've gone beyond national borders. I've gone into a completely randomized, worldwide survey.

Of course, there were some limitations. For example, I could only reach people who have access to a computer and were online at the same time I was. How did I know I could get completely honest opinions? That's simple. I went to the most anonymous place I could think of.

That's right, internetters.


Here are some of the responses I received.

You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: hello
Stranger: i love it
You: Why?
Stranger: now there is healthcare for the unfortunate of our country
You: Thanks for your opinion :)

You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: i dont really care. wtff?
Stranger: hey
You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: i dnt like it
You: Why?
Stranger: all our taxes are gonna go up
Stranger: and the health care is only gonna benifit those that caused the issue in the first place
You: Thanks for your opinion :) 
You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: Asl
You: 14 f usa
Stranger: It's good
Stranger: The more like rngland you are the better
Stranger: Now old people won't die just ecause they can't afford drugs
You: Thanks for your opinion :)
You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: hi
Stranger: i like obama
You: But what do you think of the bill?
Stranger: its good. we need healthcare.
You: Thanks for your opinion :)
You: What do you think of the fact that the healthcare bill passed in the US?
Stranger: it fuckin blows
You: Why?
Stranger: cause i work for a living
Stranger: what do you think of it
You: Thanks for your opinion, love :) So far, you're my favorite.
You: And I completely agree.

There you go. I believe that's an accurate representation of how the US- along with other countries around the world- is reacting in general. Right now, millions of people- even beyond those 32 million uninsured, who I know are jumping for joy- are acting like Obama is God, and everything he does will directly benefit this country. I think it's fine that you like Obama. I don't expect you to have the same political beliefs as me.

However, I do expect you to maintain a certain level of suspicion. I don't mean, "Oh, he's black, he's a bad person, watch him." I don't even mean, "He's un-American because he's a Democrat." I just believe that, quite frankly, 99% of politicians give the other 1% a bad name, and you can never know who's in which category.

I, personally, think that people should base their judgments not on what political party the suggestion came from, and not whether you like the majority of the ideas of the person who suggested it. I try to judge all of Obama's ideas on a, basically, idea-to-idea basis. I don't want to get in the habit many people I know are stuck in: "Obama suggested it, so it must be bad for the country."

I do believe that he is capable of doing good things for this country. However, I do not believe this- or, to put it bluntly, anything else he has done or plans to do- is his best attempt at showing this potential.

And as I sit here, in my living room, munching on fruit snacks, I leave you with this: if you're my age, you're a teenager. I hate to tell you this, but at some point, you're going to be responsible for electing the president of the United States. You will have a say eventually, and when you do, I don't want you to speak your voice.

I want you to scream, dammit. Scream for what you believe in. Scream for the good ideas; scream against the bad ones. Make sure you're heard. If you're like me, you're probably a minority in your school. Most people in my school couldn't tell you who the vice president is at the moment, and even more couldn't tell you what Nancy Pelosi's job is.

Don't be like them. They're going to be the ones in ten years saying, "Why does this matter?" And if the majority of people are asking that, then the voices of those who know why it matters will not be heard. Unless, of course, we scream.

Do a protest, make this the subject of your next class speech, write it on a bathroom stall; I could care less. I just take pride in knowing that there are people out there, my age, who know what they want and need from their government, and know when they are or are not getting it.

I really hope you're one of those people.

Scream on.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

"Standard Account"

Oh, how I hate "standard accounts."

I don't care what platform you're using- Braingle, Zwinky, or Windows Vista- it still sucks.

Why? Because you don't have any rights. Zip. Zero. Nada. And why is this irritating? Because you can't delete Internet Explorer off the desktop or even move it into a hidden folder. It's always there. Why else? Because you can't run executable files without an admin password.

How about you? What other platforms have you stopped using completely simply because you weren't able to do everything you knew you wanted- and should have been able- to do?

Thursday, March 18, 2010


I just applied for my first job ever. At Publix.

How stunning. I really hope I get hired. I could use the extra cash.

And, for the record, my Career Management class didn't pay off at all.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


It's one really easy way to make things awkward. I think that all songwriters should receive a manual. What would be in this manual, you ask? Well, for starters, it would probably tell you in big, bold letters on the first page- possibly even before the table of contents, right after the publication info page- that you should never, under any circumstances, inform the person about whom the song is written that the song is in fact written about them. Nor should you use their actual name within the song. Either make up a name or omit the whole name problem entirely, adding a term of endearment with the same number of syllables ("babe," "sweetheart," "oh, baby,").

Those would be the kinds of things in the songwriters' manual. It shouldn't be written by Taylor Swift, I believe we can all agree. She tends to break all preconceived rules of songwriting.

Today has most certainly not been a fairy tale, dammit.

I presume you can guess what happened from the above rant.

Ugh. Males suck (no offense intended towards Logan or any of my other precious male followers- you guys can't help the shape of your genitals; it's only natural that we think you suck sometimes).

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Tune-a-Licious Tuesdays

In an effort to force myself to listen to popular music (and remember to post), I'm starting a little thing I'll call Tune-a-Licious Tuesdays. Musical Mondays are over-used, so there.

I'm great.

No, this isn't just, "Hey, I like this song." It's also, "I think that this is a good website to find new music, and this one sucks, and check this out- you probably haven't heard any of their other music, have you?" I think I'm really going to get into this.

Feel free to tell me about songs and albums you love/hate/both, and how much of a... you know, I was going to make a Miley Cyrus joke, but I can't even bring myself to go there.

Hanging out in the A+ Lab at school; the juniors are taking the ACT and we're going to be stuck in first period for the next, oh, three and a half to five hours. At least Wilson (he teaches Biology, my first period) isn't with us- we're in the lab because he's one of the proctors. The library and the entire math/science wing are closed to anyone but proctors and people taking the test.

Since we're in the A+ Lab and bored to death, Wilson gave us the opportunity to do extra credit: concept maps (in Inspiration® 8.0, if you want to know) on a) Cell Theory and Cell Parts, b) Monomers, Polymers, and the 4 Essential Organic Compounds, and/or c) Scientific Method.

I did the Scientific Method because it's the easiest. Pretty straight-forward, with a small loop at the end (where you re-test the hypothesis). Meh. I figure I'll get a decent amound of points... here's a screenshot [edit: and... apparently not]. I would totally have done it a bit prettier, but I'm not on my Mac, and I can't be bothered to put in that much effort when on my computer- as opposed to this thing from the early 2000s- it would just take pressing three buttons. But I digress.

At least I can still save in png format. :P

Edit: GOD FREAKING... *urgh* I can't give you a screenshot because the school is retarded and has blocked all image hosting sites, even ones where it's impossible to see everyone else's pictures. You know, made for people like me. Fucking hell...