Is she a hipster or not?
First person to agree with me gets a poem written for them.
About the Author
- Artemis.
- One of those crazy teen blogger types. Completely bribe-able with coffee. An INTP.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Monday, January 16, 2012
Hipster: Yea or Nay?
The girl in the picture is Xeno's ex and a dear friend of mine, to whom I will now refer as Derpette. This picture is a couple of weeks old; she recently cut her hair in such a manner that she resembles a pixie. She and I (and the rest of our group of friends) have been going back and forth for ages now, and I'm turning to you, the internet, to resolve this argument.
Is she a hipster or not?
First person to agree with me gets a poem written for them.
Is she a hipster or not?
First person to agree with me gets a poem written for them.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
I'm Making Up Some Bullshit Now
I have a friend- more of an acquaintance, really- who happened upon my blog. Thankfully, he is not the sort of acquaintance to rip my privacy to shreds by passing around the link. Hopefully. Not that anyone would really find anything that I write here all that interesting. God knows why he bothered to read through all my posts.
Anyways, he has been bothering me to write a post about him. Actually, he calls it writing a blog about him, which is a gross misuse of the word "blog." A blog is a collection of posts. This is a post. On a blog. I will not be writing an entire blog about him, just a post.
*big sigh* Moving on. This is a post about Viper.
Viper is 7' 5" tall, and weighs 350 lbs, easily 360. He can bench press- literally- a million pounds. He has saved the world fourteen times that I am aware of, and quite probably many more that I am unaware of. Viper is, to put it frankly, a badass.
There, are you fucking happy, Hunter?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Little Moments
Over the second semester of last year, there were... moments. Moments where I caught myself feeling way beyond what I probably should have. I don't even know this guy's favorite color. I have no idea what kind of music he listens to. But are those arbitrary things? Do they matter? I think they do, but I have no idea. I've known (well, known of, certainly) this guy since the seventh grade. We never really spoke a ton, even though we've had every math class together from the seventh grade forward. That changed last semester, though.
We were all hanging out in the science classroom before class. For whatever reason, I brought it upon myself to make fun of him (we're talking about the President here, the same guy I've been rambling about the last few posts). When the teacher said we were going to draw random seats, I said something along the lines of, "God forbid I get stuck sitting next to you," to the President. So, of course, I ended up sitting next to him for the first half of the semester.
I had the sniffles something awful, so I was rather noisy that first week of the semester. At some point, the President said, "Well, that's attractive," and all of a sudden something in my head clicked and I thought, "Oh, no!" a la Mike Birbiglia. I thought it would go away, but of course it didn't. By Valentine's Day, I was dating someone else, and when he asked if he could be my Valentine, I said no in a more snippy manner than intended. He just said, "Oh."
Before then, we'd joked all the time about how clearly I was desperately in love with him, and at some point he'd tripped up making a joke about babies and had somehow managed to imply that I was going to have his babies. (I'm laughing just remembering it- at first he stuttered, trying to fix it, but then he just went along with it, which was even funnier.)
After that, it was weird for a week or two. Eventually we got back to normal, though we didn't joke about being in love with each other as much. I go back and forth between thinking that it's because he realized I liked him and didn't want to egg me on and that it's because he realized he liked me and didn't want to accidentally seem too obvious.
One time in the library, we were sitting talking at one of the tables- our math teacher was off doing something or other and had sent our class to the library for a few days- and we were talking about all the books in my bag. I said something about how they weren't going to fit in my purse, and I believe I started pulling things out of my purse and stacking them rather precariously. Of course, my calculator (a lovely bulky TI-84 Plus, my little baby) fell, and he caught it against my leg. Either he held it there for a second too long, or my mind stopped time for a moment. The latter is incredibly likely.
And then there's the time we did a science experiment involving burning metal solutions to determine which metals burned which color flames. The teacher, being an advocate for general safety and not catching on fire in the classroom, warned us all to pull back long hair and long sleeves. I pulled my hair- which I'd been wearing down regularly (without putting any effort into it) since it was cold as fuck- up into a bun while the President pulled his sweatshirt off. Which, by the way, he looked very good in, but even better out of. He can really pull off a t-shirt and jeans. Anyways, he looked at me and said, "You look... different with your hair up." I don't remember what I did, but I probably shrugged or some such. When my dear friend... hmm, what shall I call her? Oh, I know, Luna! When my dear friend Luna came over, she (as usual) told me I was looking exceptionally sexy. So, of course, I said in a very clearly-joking arrogant voice, "Yeah, [the President] here thinks so, too." And Luna and I laughed. But I thought- I could have sworn- I heard him say something along the lines of, "That was the message I was trying to get across," or "That was the general point." It was a while ago, so I don't remember the exact phrase, but it was something like that. But I think I imagined it.
To quote the great Brad Paisley, "Yeah, I live for little moments like that."
We were all hanging out in the science classroom before class. For whatever reason, I brought it upon myself to make fun of him (we're talking about the President here, the same guy I've been rambling about the last few posts). When the teacher said we were going to draw random seats, I said something along the lines of, "God forbid I get stuck sitting next to you," to the President. So, of course, I ended up sitting next to him for the first half of the semester.
I had the sniffles something awful, so I was rather noisy that first week of the semester. At some point, the President said, "Well, that's attractive," and all of a sudden something in my head clicked and I thought, "Oh, no!" a la Mike Birbiglia. I thought it would go away, but of course it didn't. By Valentine's Day, I was dating someone else, and when he asked if he could be my Valentine, I said no in a more snippy manner than intended. He just said, "Oh."
Before then, we'd joked all the time about how clearly I was desperately in love with him, and at some point he'd tripped up making a joke about babies and had somehow managed to imply that I was going to have his babies. (I'm laughing just remembering it- at first he stuttered, trying to fix it, but then he just went along with it, which was even funnier.)
After that, it was weird for a week or two. Eventually we got back to normal, though we didn't joke about being in love with each other as much. I go back and forth between thinking that it's because he realized I liked him and didn't want to egg me on and that it's because he realized he liked me and didn't want to accidentally seem too obvious.
One time in the library, we were sitting talking at one of the tables- our math teacher was off doing something or other and had sent our class to the library for a few days- and we were talking about all the books in my bag. I said something about how they weren't going to fit in my purse, and I believe I started pulling things out of my purse and stacking them rather precariously. Of course, my calculator (a lovely bulky TI-84 Plus, my little baby) fell, and he caught it against my leg. Either he held it there for a second too long, or my mind stopped time for a moment. The latter is incredibly likely.
And then there's the time we did a science experiment involving burning metal solutions to determine which metals burned which color flames. The teacher, being an advocate for general safety and not catching on fire in the classroom, warned us all to pull back long hair and long sleeves. I pulled my hair- which I'd been wearing down regularly (without putting any effort into it) since it was cold as fuck- up into a bun while the President pulled his sweatshirt off. Which, by the way, he looked very good in, but even better out of. He can really pull off a t-shirt and jeans. Anyways, he looked at me and said, "You look... different with your hair up." I don't remember what I did, but I probably shrugged or some such. When my dear friend... hmm, what shall I call her? Oh, I know, Luna! When my dear friend Luna came over, she (as usual) told me I was looking exceptionally sexy. So, of course, I said in a very clearly-joking arrogant voice, "Yeah, [the President] here thinks so, too." And Luna and I laughed. But I thought- I could have sworn- I heard him say something along the lines of, "That was the message I was trying to get across," or "That was the general point." It was a while ago, so I don't remember the exact phrase, but it was something like that. But I think I imagined it.
To quote the great Brad Paisley, "Yeah, I live for little moments like that."
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
There's This Guy
Okay, so there's this guy. Boos from audience. A random crowd member screams, "Give us some real news!" Oh, shut up, George. Anyways, the guy. Yeah. Oh, all right, I'll tell you about him, if you insist.
One time he asked, "Why are we the same person with different genders? And operating systems?" It stuck with me (obviously). Absolutely cracks me up. Because we really are eerily similar. I don't really know if they're deep similarities or superficial ones; I can never tell the difference (you know me, I can hack the shit out of your computer and dress to kill, but I can't- yet- understand the human mind). But we are similar on certain levels.
He gets my sense of humor. I don't have to explain the joke or defend myself after saying something snarky. Wanna know why? He's the same way. When I say something without thinking, he doesn't make me feel like I really should've thought that one all the way through, darling. No, he just lols or luls or whatever it is he's doing that day. And I appreciate that.
He makes me feel just right, intellectually speaking. I don't feel like a genius talking to him, but I don't feel like a moron, either. That's very important to me- I don't want to feel like an idiot when I'm talking to someone, but I don't want to have to explain every other word or thought process. And with him, it's neither of those. It's like for one of the first times ever- and I don't mean to sound like a bitch here or to be snippy towards anyone else- I'm talking to someone I think I can relate to. He's about my age and on a similar intellectual level, from what I can tell. That hasn't ever really happened before. It's quite fun.
He has plans for when the zombies come. Really? That's just fucking awesome. There is nothing as absolutely hawt as someone who could survive the motherfucking zombie apocalypse. 'Nuff said on that.
He doesn't seem to mind when I swear. At least, I don't think he does. Unless him telling me that his parents snoop on his computer so to keep it clean was a lie and he just doesn't like it when I swear. Hmm. Now I'm paranoid. (I watched the Matrix for the first time tonight- can you tell?)
He seems to genuinely want to talk to me. And that, my friend, is probably the most important thing of all. 'Cause I want to talk to him, too.
One time he asked, "Why are we the same person with different genders? And operating systems?" It stuck with me (obviously). Absolutely cracks me up. Because we really are eerily similar. I don't really know if they're deep similarities or superficial ones; I can never tell the difference (you know me, I can hack the shit out of your computer and dress to kill, but I can't- yet- understand the human mind). But we are similar on certain levels.
He gets my sense of humor. I don't have to explain the joke or defend myself after saying something snarky. Wanna know why? He's the same way. When I say something without thinking, he doesn't make me feel like I really should've thought that one all the way through, darling. No, he just lols or luls or whatever it is he's doing that day. And I appreciate that.
He makes me feel just right, intellectually speaking. I don't feel like a genius talking to him, but I don't feel like a moron, either. That's very important to me- I don't want to feel like an idiot when I'm talking to someone, but I don't want to have to explain every other word or thought process. And with him, it's neither of those. It's like for one of the first times ever- and I don't mean to sound like a bitch here or to be snippy towards anyone else- I'm talking to someone I think I can relate to. He's about my age and on a similar intellectual level, from what I can tell. That hasn't ever really happened before. It's quite fun.
He has plans for when the zombies come. Really? That's just fucking awesome. There is nothing as absolutely hawt as someone who could survive the motherfucking zombie apocalypse. 'Nuff said on that.
He doesn't seem to mind when I swear. At least, I don't think he does. Unless him telling me that his parents snoop on his computer so to keep it clean was a lie and he just doesn't like it when I swear. Hmm. Now I'm paranoid. (I watched the Matrix for the first time tonight- can you tell?)
He seems to genuinely want to talk to me. And that, my friend, is probably the most important thing of all. 'Cause I want to talk to him, too.
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.
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.
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