(no subject)
i think the trees forgot that it's spring.
my life is still crazy.
and i know there are way more people with hectic-er lives.
but i can't deal with the one i have.
yes i can.
i can deal.
the end.
oh yeah.
my room is messy.
you should help me clean it.
and this friday.
or tomorrow as some would say.
im hosting a 'welcome to rhode island' party for carina's cousin.
he's not moving here.
and he's been here before.
it's just an excuse to have friends over.
im thinking of making a cd that summizes mine and carina's life so this boy can listen.
oh yeah.
did i mention i dont know his name. but im having a party for him.
let's go with don.
don is always a good name.
like in spain.
but not as in donnie and marie.
he's not rock n' roll.
he can shut his meatloaf hole.
im home sick.
again.
cause my eye is crying and red and puffy.
just the left one.
it's cause im a righty.
and the left side is jealous.
so it's getting back at me.
i ate all the candy from my grandma's easter basket already.
she only gave me three chocolates.
cause she thinks we're older. so will get us jewelry and clothes and crap cause we dont like candy anymore.
but that's not true.
here is my philosophy on adolescence:
we are babies and we like attention. and gooing and gaaing.
then we are toddlers. and we are brats. and we storm around. and we ask our parents and older role model figures to watch everything we do. (kinda like stewart from mad tv)
then we get into our 8 to 11 year old stage. and we are just mediocre kids. figuring our who are friends are.
then the dreaded akward stage starts.
this goes from pre-teen to about 15.
we dont really know who we are.
we go thru fads and follow our friends. we are so against hanging out with younger kids so we dont look juvenile. we grin and pride ourselves when adults say that we are mature or smart.
then.
we finally get to young adults.
and we know who we want to be. not professionally. but as a person. well most of us anyways. but we know who are true friends are. for the most part. we dont take shit. we dont (well sometimes) care was others think of us as. we wear what we want. and we find people like ourselves so we can be content.
then.
around 17(this pertains to me). you get the peter pan complex.
this sucks. you are about to go to college. you cant wait. you verbalize how excited you are. but inside. you dont want to leave home. as much as you say that you'll stay in touch with people from high school. you won't. it never works out like that(cept for close close clooooose friends). You get nervous about paying stupid bills. cell, housing, dorms, school, food, gas, car insurance, stupid stuff. and you dont really have any set path. you want to revert back to when you were eight.
and you would walk around and collect bugs.
and had scrapes on your knees and elbows.
and you hung out all summer long in your neighborhood with the same four or five kids.
and you were a tomboy and loved it.
and your mom still paid for everything.
including the ice cream you got from the creepy ice cream man at five o'clock.
even though you have a lucritive lemonade business on the corner.
and you and your friends would get sooooo excited when the old woman across the street would tip you two dollars.
those were the best years.
damn.
ten years later.
who will buy lemonade from me now?
my life is still crazy.
and i know there are way more people with hectic-er lives.
but i can't deal with the one i have.
yes i can.
i can deal.
the end.
oh yeah.
my room is messy.
you should help me clean it.
and this friday.
or tomorrow as some would say.
im hosting a 'welcome to rhode island' party for carina's cousin.
he's not moving here.
and he's been here before.
it's just an excuse to have friends over.
im thinking of making a cd that summizes mine and carina's life so this boy can listen.
oh yeah.
did i mention i dont know his name. but im having a party for him.
let's go with don.
don is always a good name.
like in spain.
but not as in donnie and marie.
he's not rock n' roll.
he can shut his meatloaf hole.
im home sick.
again.
cause my eye is crying and red and puffy.
just the left one.
it's cause im a righty.
and the left side is jealous.
so it's getting back at me.
i ate all the candy from my grandma's easter basket already.
she only gave me three chocolates.
cause she thinks we're older. so will get us jewelry and clothes and crap cause we dont like candy anymore.
but that's not true.
here is my philosophy on adolescence:
we are babies and we like attention. and gooing and gaaing.
then we are toddlers. and we are brats. and we storm around. and we ask our parents and older role model figures to watch everything we do. (kinda like stewart from mad tv)
then we get into our 8 to 11 year old stage. and we are just mediocre kids. figuring our who are friends are.
then the dreaded akward stage starts.
this goes from pre-teen to about 15.
we dont really know who we are.
we go thru fads and follow our friends. we are so against hanging out with younger kids so we dont look juvenile. we grin and pride ourselves when adults say that we are mature or smart.
then.
we finally get to young adults.
and we know who we want to be. not professionally. but as a person. well most of us anyways. but we know who are true friends are. for the most part. we dont take shit. we dont (well sometimes) care was others think of us as. we wear what we want. and we find people like ourselves so we can be content.
then.
around 17(this pertains to me). you get the peter pan complex.
this sucks. you are about to go to college. you cant wait. you verbalize how excited you are. but inside. you dont want to leave home. as much as you say that you'll stay in touch with people from high school. you won't. it never works out like that(cept for close close clooooose friends). You get nervous about paying stupid bills. cell, housing, dorms, school, food, gas, car insurance, stupid stuff. and you dont really have any set path. you want to revert back to when you were eight.
and you would walk around and collect bugs.
and had scrapes on your knees and elbows.
and you hung out all summer long in your neighborhood with the same four or five kids.
and you were a tomboy and loved it.
and your mom still paid for everything.
including the ice cream you got from the creepy ice cream man at five o'clock.
even though you have a lucritive lemonade business on the corner.
and you and your friends would get sooooo excited when the old woman across the street would tip you two dollars.
those were the best years.
damn.
ten years later.
who will buy lemonade from me now?