The Boredom Eats At My Soul

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The past few days I really haven’t done much of anything. I went to this nice pizzeria with my mom and grandpa today. It was the highlight of my day. Even I realize how sad that is.

The first step to destroying my boredom is to get my driver’s license. I don’t know why, but I seem to have this mental block against it. I know I have to do it, but it’s one of those things that just…slips the mind. Kind of like my college placement test I need to take in the next week or so in order to enroll. Ha ha. Clearly, my life is a mess right now.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not a mess in a depressing way. It’s more like I have no  idea what to do with it. It’s kind of like…I graduated high school, and I just have no idea what to do (I just said that). It’s kind of embarrassing, because it seems so obvious to everyone else. They’re all off to their dorms now, all excited about their new lives and I’m still in my mom’s house wondering what the crap is going on. I do have a plan, and it’s a fairly decent plan that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m going to go to community college and live at home for the next year or two. I’ll save up some money and eventually transfer to a university somewhere. It’s much cheaper then going straight to a university I know. But it still feels like I haven’t really moved on from high school. I’m glad to be out of there, but I feel like I’m just going stagnant at home with nothing to do. I spent most of my life thinking I’d be driving a sports car and living in a dorm getting drunk all day with my super gorgeous friends that adored me. I think I’m still in shock that none of that has happened to me yet.

The answer (kind of)? Getting a car. It’s my new big step but it will at least help in making me feel somewhat like an adult. At the very least I can go where I please. Hell, I might even be able to visit the city on weekends since it’s only two hours away. I feel like a hermit living in a cave right now. I wish I lived in the city so I could just go where I pleased, but unfortunately I live in a hell hole that doesn’t have sidewalks or public transportation. My options are quite limited. We’ll see what happens. I’ll start on it this week. Hell I’ll start on it tomorrow. I’m sick of this crap.

When you like a guy…

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I give great advice. Hell, I give amazing advice. As a general rule, if I tell you to do something, you ought to do it because it’ll be the smartest option. That sounds vain, but it’s true and I’m proud of my guru powers.

Unfortunately, this means that when it comes to my own life I become a retard. Especially in the world of romance. I think this is a case of, “Do as I say, not as I do.” But never fear! There is a way for my mistakes to work for the better good, so without further ado here’s a list of what NOT to do when you like a guy.

When you like a guy…

  • …don’t assume he doesn’t like you. I’ve had friends tell me, “I can’t ask him out, he doesn’t like me!” When I ask them why they’d think that, they honestly can’t tell me why. They were just being insecure morons. Don’t be an insecure moron. Unless a guy is giving very clear BACK OFF signs, or you are out right rejected, you always have a chance.
  • …don’t assume he’s madly in love with you. This seems like a contradiction, but it’s not if you apply some common sense. Let’s say a friend tells you that hot guy wants to marry you because he smiled at you that one time five years ago. So you proceed to stalk him like a creeper…yeah, don’t. Chances are he doesn’t even remember your name. Your friends are designed to boost your self-esteem, so take it with a grain of salt when they claim a guy wants to partake in matrimony with you.
  • …don’t be retarded, ask the poor guy out. Alright! Things are going well. You definitely like him, and you’re getting some sure signs that he likes you back. Unfortunately he hasn’t asked you out yet. Believe it or not, guys can be really shy when they want to be. It looks like it’s going to be up to you. So what do you do? You ignore him and avoid the awkward rejection you’ve decided you’re going to get. Stop being stupid. Just ask him on a date and see what happens. You might be surprised.
  • …don’t be a jealous whore. Remember that guy you refused to ask out? Well, it looks like he’s moved on from the looks of the googly eyes he and that girl are giving each other. Unfortunately it seems like you never quite got over him, so you shoot the girl in the head with an airsoft gun in a fit of feminine, drunken rage. There’s so many things wrong with that. Just don’t do it. It’s your own fault you didn’t ask him out and he had every right to move on. Don’t blame him, and don’t blame the new girl. It just makes you look bad.
  • …don’t count off those other cute guys. It really doesn’t look like it’s going to happen with the crush of your choice. At some point, you really need to move on. During all that time you were pining over Mr. Crush, five other guys were probably off to the side drooling on your shoes and you didn’t even notice. One of them could have been a model for all you know.
  • …don’t put yourself down. I’ve never seen you, but you’re probably gorgeous. Just accept this and FLAUNT IT BABY. You can’t expect a guy to love you when you don’t love yourself, so go look in the mirror and give yourself a smooch. …what? No that’s not weird. It’s empowering!

This is all pretty basic advice, but I think when girls see a guy they like they just become…retarded. I don’t know what it is, but the braincells just hiss and die in a burst of flames. And just for the record, I never personally shot the girl with an air soft gun….someone else did it for me. I am very ashamed, you don’t need to tell me.

Little Dogs Are Awesome…Disagree and I will break your face

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Stupid thunderstorm…what? Today is clearly Sunday.

Warning: This here is a rant!

I’m starting to get annoyed with this ‘little dogs aren’t real dogs’ crap. I’m not even joking. It’s really making me angry.

I’ll admit it. When I first asked for a dog I had something big and manly like a Great Dane in mind. I’ve always wanted a dog that was bigger than me. Don’t ask me why.

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Glorious

Instead, I got a cute little fur ball named Jamie.

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D'awwww

Now when you just got your cat taken away and have wanted a dog your entire life, unless you’re a total douchebag you’re not going to go, “Na uh, take it back!” And I didn’t. I love Jamie. He’s a great dog. He does most everything big dogs do, he knows when to be gentle and well-behaved, he’s good with kids. I’ll admit it, he has the attention span of a squirrel and can get hyper as all hell on occasion. It doesn’t matter. He’s still a real dog.

If you come up to me and call my dogs furry rats, or claim they aren’t real dogs or threaten to kick them, let’s make this clear. I will break your fucking face. That is a promise. They may not be able to protect me, but I can sure as hell protect them and anyone who tries to hurt them will hear from me. And yes, I have met people who have threatened to kick them or insulted them for no reason other than they are tiny and cute.

The reason for this rant is earlier, a friend of mine asked if I wanted to move into some make shift dorm she was making. Basically everyone renting a big house. I’m probably going to tell her no, for a few reasons, but one in particular stood out. She’s decided that she’s going to bring her cats and her dog. OK that’s fair, but if she gets to bring her pets, I want to bring mine. She tells me, “Screw Jamie, we’ll get a bigger dog!”

Um.

First off, I have two dogs. This is a rant for another day, but don’t talk to me like Rocky is already dead. He’s old, not a corpse. Moving on… Secondly, are you kidding me? Why would a bigger dog be so much better than Jamie? I LOVE her dog. She has this big half husky, half wolf monster that is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Honestly. I love all animals and I don’t understand how someone who claims to love dogs can turn around and get this urge to drop kick a shih-tzu. I especially don’t appreciate being told to get rid of the pet I love for a ‘bigger and better version’. It doesn’t work that way. All dog breeds have their pros and cons and what kind of dog you have strongly depends on your own lifestyle and preference. Whatever, it’s your business if a big dog is the right fit for you. But don’t you dare go around with this “Screw your little dog!” attitude I’ve been seeing lately. It’s not fair.

Big dogs can be just as obnoxious as little dogs. If you meet a little shit of a dog that deserves to be kicked (and I have met some), blame the owner. Don’t threaten some perfectly well-behaved dog just because you are a retard.

I don’t know. I’m just mad. And, I realize they are my dogs and all, but if you spent a little time with them you would completely fall in love. At least with Jamie that’s a definite. The guy is a charmer. EVERYONE loves him. I’ve never met anyone that actually spent more then five minutes with Jamie that didn’t fall completely head over heels for him. If I were a guy, I would use him to pick up girls and it would work. The only people that insult my dogs are the ones that go, “Ew little dog!” and refuse to go anywhere near them.

Wow. I’m a terrible blogger.

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There I went, making this grand schedule for myself and I skipped two days of blogging!

I’m so ashamed.

For Tuesday, my excuse was I had been to a party the night before and I slept straight through until Wednesday. I’m not even exagerrating I got home around 9 AM, went to bed and didn’t wake up until the next day. It was intense.

For Thursday I just didn’t feel like it.

I won’t let that happen again.

The party was really fun though! It was my friend’s 19th birthday and it was a sort of sleepover/tent party extravaganza. A few people did that weird sleeping thing, but most of us stayed up all night on her porch acting like morons.

Parties are kind of stressful for me. If you’re very big on the whole ‘no under-aged drinking’ thing, you may not want to read further. But yeah. If you know anything about diabetics, you know that alcohol is kind of a no-no for us. I mean we can drink it, but it requires a ridiculous amount of planning, water and peeing if we don’t want to die. So while I’d love to be an irresponsible moron like my good friends (I still love them…) and throw up in tents or on my lovely white purse, I can’t. I’ve already been pinned as the esteemed Sober One at these parties. If you’ve ever been the Sober One at a party, you know it’s kind of a mixed bag. On the one hand, you can mess with drunk people.

Here’s a trick my uncle taught me. Go up to a drunk person and hand them a dollar bill and say, “Can you hang on to this for me?” when they take it you have to go, “OK, now don’t forget the twenty dollars!” Repeat that about ten or twenty times. The next morning when they wake up naked in a tree wondering what’s going on, you go up to them and go, “Hey, remember that twenty dollars you borrowed? Can I get it back?” All they’ll remember is “twenty dollars” and voila. You just made yourself some cash. This has been proven to work and yes, I know, I can be a bitch.

On the other hand, drunk people throw up. I find them more hilarious than anything, but when they throw up…it took all I had not to break my friend’s nose for throwing up on my bag. I didn’t even mention it to her. I just took a deep breath and walked away. I even thought to check that she was still breathing occasionally when she passed out on the couch. It was touch and go there for a bit, from what I understood she is still alive. I don’t understand how. She’s a very tiny girl. I don’t understand where all the Jager and wine coolers went.

I did only drink fruity wine coolers. At least I didn’t get drunk off them. That would be downright shameful. Normally I’d be embarrassed that that was all I had to drink, but it turned out everyone liked the ones my friend got and kept asking me for mine (I had a few set aside specifically for me, because I’m a sick diabetic girl or something…I didn’t ask why.) Compared to the last party, everyone was a lot less retarded and there were no, “Oh shit what happened last night?” moments with any of them. Even if there had  been, the guy I’ve had a crush on for the longest time decided to stay sober, so it wouldn’t have mattered. That’s a story for another time.

I should probably put a disclaimer of sorts here. I am not a party girl. I do not condone under-aged drinking. Personally I don’t see the fun in getting so drunk you can’t remember the fabulous time you had. What’s the point? Now, if you put Smirnoff Ice Mango in front of me, I will chug that stuff down like it is my job. I love that stuff. But I don’t buy alcohol, I’m very careful not to drink too much, and I also choose my company wisely. I won’t accept a Jager Bomb from just anyone. If this insults you deeply on a personal level, either get over it or move on. I won’t stand for being lectured. Though you if you just want to talk about it, that’s cool. I like talking!

I know. I’m a dork. I can’t even talking about getting drunk like a normal teenager.