...We were never friends...

I just finished my senior year of high school.  It was really weird...  For the whole last week people were crying about how they're never going to see anyone again.  Everyone was making promises to stay in touch and telling each other that they're going to go on and do great things.  It's not that I'm not going to miss my friends after I graduate, but I felt this weird sense of disconnect from pretty much the entirety of my class.  I didn't feel like anything was over, and I wasn't scared about the future at all.  I made no promises to stay in touch with anyone, because it doesn't feel like they're going anywhere.

On the last day of school, I had a math final, and I basically spent the entire day thinking "once I take this test I'll be finished with high school", and really looking forward to the end of the day.  After my math class though, everything got really anticlimactic.  There was this Senior Celebration that we had (?) to go to, and it was supposedly going to be really fun.  I was expecting a party in the hallways with cake, soda, yearbook signing, hugging, and crying.  Instead I got an assembly at which the six seniors who decided they were best suited for the task handed out paper-plate awards to the entire class.  I go to a small school, so it's only about a hundred and twenty or so people, but that's still an ambitious task for six people to undertake.

And for the record, some people say, "ambitious" and mean, "I'm really proud of you for thinking you'll be able to accomplish this".  That's not what I mean.  When I say, "ambitious" now, I mean, "you probably should have just stayed home today".

About twenty of the awards given out were really heartfelt and genuinely funny and made me feel like the six kids who made them really liked those people.  The other one hundred, though, were not that at all.

My award, for instance, was "Thespian".  Not even "The Thespian Award", which still is impersonal and lame but at least it still sounds like an award, but just "Thespian".  Like, "This Etsie kid, she acts or something".

Thanks, guys

So when they announced my "award" I stood up, smiled, accepted it, then shoved it into my bag and didn't think about it for the rest of the day.  In fact, way later that night as I was throwing away my un-needed school stuff from the year, I found it again, sitting in my bag.  It wasn't until I was about to throw it in the trash when I noticed they even spelled my name wrong.  "This 'Estie' kid probably has friends somewhere, right?"

So I took a picture of it and made a very angry post on Facebook.  One of the girls who made the paper-plate awards saw my post and commented on it. (Side bar, someone needs to teach me how to keep people who aren't my friends from commenting on my stuff.)  Here's the conversation:

Her: just so you know, we didn't come up with that one, the counselors did because we couldn't think of anything other than "actor".

Me: I just think its an ambitious goal for six people to try to make paper plate awards for a hundred or so people, and some of them didn't turn out very well.

But it almost makes me feel worse that the counselors also don't know me well enough to come up with anything better than "thespian".

Her: totally understandable but i wouldn't read too much into it. making a personal award for 100 people IS an ambitious goal so it's practically impossible to make each of them perfect. to be fair, the counselors had 1 day to do the ones we couldn't think of and we only gave it to them because we couldn't think of anything other than thespian. sorry you didn't get the award you wanted but i wouldn't read too much into it.

I didn't really know what to say to that...  I didn't read into it at all, and it's not the award itself that was bothering me.  I didn't know how to put that into words, so I just said this:

Me: I think you're misunderstanding what I'm saying.

I left it at that, hoping either 1, she would drop it and go away, or 2, by the time she asked me to clarify I would be able to, and I would do so, and THEN she would go away.

In fact, after I made the post, I went to my room to paint my nails and ruminate, and when I did, I realized what I was trying to say.  I had been hoping that on my last day of school I would be filled with this overwhelming sense of camaraderie.  But apparently the six kids don't know me well enough to make me feel appreciated.  Instead of feeling included, like a part of something, this "award" for being "like an actor or something" made me feel alienated and anonymous.

Once I realized what I wanted her to understand, that is, how her impersonal "award" had hurt me, I went back to my computer to try to explain.  After all, no one wants to leave high school feeling like they're known for not being known at all.  I hoped she would understand.  When I got back, though, this is what I saw:

Her: probably. it's fine, let's be friends and graduate.

"Let's be friends and graduate"?  You've already proven to me that we're not friends.  You know nothing about me, and you can't even understand how your knowing nothing about me hurt my feelings.  You frustrate me to know end, yet you think we're friends, you think I'm just going to forget about this and "be friends and graduate".

I'm not even upset about the award anymore.  She insults me by giving me a "personal", in-specific award that could go to about twenty other seniors, too, then she takes it even further by being so presumptuous as to think that, even though she clearly doesn't know me at all, we're still friends.

While I was writing this post, by the way, I was also talking to my friend Brendon.  If you don't have someone in your life who always takes your side, but somehow can manage to talk sense into you and change your mind while agreeing with you, you need to go find one.  While I was at Northwestern, there was this girl who sucked, and I was complaining about her to Brendon.  She refused to kiss a guy for a scene, and I made an offhand comment like, "yeah but you have to, you're an actor".  Then, later, when I told my director that the phrase 'no homo' offends me and asked him if we could change it—and he was FINE with me changing it by the way—this girl said, "oh, you don't want to say 'no homo'? Well I would say it, but that's maybe just me; I'm an actor".  So I told Brendon.

Me: blah blah blah and basically she's the worst person ever.

Brendon: She's just trying to be cool. She's going to kiss him in that scene, but she's making damn well sure right now that everyone knows how much it's going to hurt her to do it. She's going to get to college and seek out other people like her to hang out with. They're called sororities. Those people spend all their time trying to be cool, instead of just doing cool stuff. It's like whenever I unicycle past two frat boys, and one of them goes "that guy's gay". I'm like "You're wearing an upside-down visor. You're standing next to another male, with whom you spend most of your time, yet a one-wheeled vehicle is a sign of a homosexual. It's an interesting theory you have there. One I don't quite understand, admittedly, but interesting. We should get together and discuss it over lunch."

He fixes everything, and just now he even fixed my paper-plate anger.

Me: I just wish they hadn't taken it upon themselves to try and prove that they know anything about me, because if they had asked my permission first I would have said "No, you know nothing about me".

Him: Ohkay so they're biased but they're also snot nosed high schoolers.  You want me to make you a new paper plate?

Me: Not unless it's something like "The only person who knows anything in her whole senior class, PS she's always right".

Him: Oh I like that.

Somehow blogging about this stuff makes me feel way better.  This girl who headed the paper-plate charge is obnoxious, and she's always bugged me, all through high school.  It was disappointing that she ruined my day one last time before I was rid of her for good, but at least now I really am rid of her for good.

I can't wait to go to college and make new enemies...

Blank Space and a Blankie

First, I have to apologize to all five of my followers for not having posted since December. I am very consistent at keeping my journal; I don't know why keeping a blog is so hard. It's so much easier to type out a word than it is to write it neatly. In fact the only reason I'm posting at all has to do with my journals.

I was reading through my old ones and found an entry that I wanted to post about on Facebook. I was going to update my status in like a one sentence story about the entry, but I ended up with, like, three paragraphs. I never finished composing the status update, because I sort of decided that if I really wanted to post it, I should just post it as a note.

And then I remembered that I have a blog!

I'm not ashamed of the fact that I still keep a security blankie from when I was about two. I brought it with my when I spent that month at Northwestern, and I brought it with me to Italy a when I went over winter break.

I remember being nervous about going to Northwestern. In particular I was concerned about my roommate. There was a little bit of "what if we don't get along" mixed in with my concern. But the main thing freaking me out was the very real possibility that she would make fun of me for having a blankie.

Let's take a short tangent. I accidentally left my blankie at the second hotel we stayed at in Italy. I think house keeping might have hidden it under my pillow or something. They did that the first night we were there. I was too tired to need it the night before we left, so I didn't bother looking for it. In the morning, as we were packing up to go, it wasn't in my direct line of sight. Now, it's ALWAYS in bed with me, so if it's not on the bed, it's been packed away. Those were the only two places it could possibly have been. So I left the hotel. It wasn't until that night, at the hotel in Florence, when I realized that it was missing.

First I panicked. Then I kind of almost got my shit together enough to go up to my teacher Jason's room and tell him I had left it and ask him for the number for the last hotel we stayed at. I called them and had to be all "mi scuzzi, Inglesia per favore" which I'm pretty sure isn't even entirely Italian. The guy who picked up the phone spoke English, so he was all "how can I help you?" and I was all "I-left-this-thing-in-room-A1-and-it's-very-important-and—" but then he was all "I can leave a note for the people to check tomorrow morning. No one's here right now. Call back between 10 am and 9 pm. Bye."

So then I cried.

The next morning I called again. They said they had found it and they would mail it back to me. I just had to send them an email with my shipping address. I did that with my friend Sam's iPhone while we were at an Italian night club. Then I spent the rest of the trip completely content and not worried at all because my blankie would be waiting for me when I got home.

It wasn't. What was waiting for me was an email asking for more information, clarifying the shipping address I had given or something. I gave them the information they needed, then sat back to wait again, confident that I would have my blankie by the end of the week. The next day though, I got another email with more questions. Something like "It'll cost €35 to ship it home, is that okay? We'll ship it when you respond" and I was like "YES GODDAMNIT GIVE ME MY BLANKIE BACK."

So finally about a week later we got a call from FedEx that was like "We have a shipment scheduled for delivery before 10:30 am tomorrow. Be home!" and I was like "School" and my parents were like "Work" and my sister was like "DO NOT FEAR SISTER-FRIEND, FOR I WILL SAVE YOUR BLANKIE FROM THE CLUTCHES OF THE EVIL FEDEX MONSTER!" and I was like "rad" and went to sleep.

I texted my sister at lunch time the next day, around 11:30 am, asking if my blankie had showed up yet. She was all "FedEx is holding it hostage. I was in the shower when they tried to deliver it. Oops."

I got home and found the slip of paper they had left on the door. There was an x next to "shipper requires signature". I was all "why?" but signed it anyway and stuck it back on the door so that even if my sister failed me again the next day (which she did--she went grocery shopping before it showed up) they would leave the damn package on the porch because I had released them from all liability with a magical scribble of blue or black ink.

Also I kidnapped my sister's teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzles, so that she would have incentive to not fluck everything up again.

I spent all of today in a panic, like "what if they don't find the note and they can't leave the package and instead they decide to incinerate it" and "what if the hotel shipped the wrong thing" and all kinds of crazy stuff. My friends were all "bro you okay" and I was all "I AM BE CRY" and they were all "YOUR POOR BLANKIE".

That was a really long tangent, I'm so sorry. All I really wanted to say was how completely comfortable I was carrying Mr. Fuzzles around all day. People were always like "aw he's so cute" and I would tell them that he's a hostage because I left my baby blankie in Italy and it's my sister's fault that I don't have it yet, and then they'd be all "your AWFUL sister!"

The point is, I love my school. Remember how scared I was about my roommate finding out about my blankie? I didn't have that feeling for anyone in the school, not even the Analysis student teacher, Chris, who hasn't been at the school long enough to know what's up. I'm glad that I can trust the people at my school with my blankie deal.

By the way I have my blankie back now. I'm going to sleep so well tonight.

Also my roommate was totally cool about my blankie. I'm pretty sure she said it was cute.

I'll just pretend I didn't see that...

So, although hipsters roll their eyes at me when I tell them, I am indeed a member of HT +1, Hot Topic's rewards club. It doesn't really do too much for me, actually. It used to be that whenever you earned 30,000 points you get 15% off your next purchase, but now that purchase has to be made within the next 30 days, or it expires, and I don't shop there often enough for that to be useful. Really the only thing that I get out of it is an email sometimes, notifying me of a sale that only members will have access to for the first two days, or something.

Well, back to that 15% off thing. I just got an email that looked like this:


My first reaction was "wow, cool, they must have given me 15% off for Christmas, or something". Then my phone rang. It was my mom, telling me she was on the way home from the mall.

It didn't take long for me to put two and two together. I know there's a Hot Topic in the mall, and I have a few items from Hot Topic on my Christmas list.

I quickly deleted the email, but now I'm curious.

If I log onto Hot Topic, will it tell me what I bought to earn me the 15% off? Just thinking about that makes me so tempted to check.

Maybe I'll just change my password to ain;fbaev;iua. Then I'll never be able to log in again.

Or at least not until I call customer services (after Christmas) and explain to them the situation. But I'm afraid I'll get laughed at if I do that... I guess I'm just going to have to practice some self-restraint for six days...

Dark Matter Is Blowing My Mind!

I'm doing this Physics project where I research an astrological topic and then make a Wiki about it. Well my partner and I chose Dark Matter.

Oops.

Let's see if I can explain.

First, we can tell that galaxies are moving because of something called the Doppler Shift. When light moves toward you, it turns blue (because the light waves scrunch together). When light moves away from you, it turns red (because the light waves stretch out). How much the color shift to red or to blue can tell us how fast the light is moving.

When we look at galaxies, one side is blue and the other is red. That is how we know that galaxies rotate. But when we look closer, we notice something weird. The galaxies appear to be moving much faster than they should be able to given their perceived mass. See, the individual stars are moving so fast that they should be ripping the galaxy apart because they're so light.

But that's not happening.

Right now, the best explanation we have is dark matter. There's something surrounding these galaxies.

Something heavy.

Something invisible.

Something that allows them to move four hundred times faster than they should move on their own.

I don't think I'm going to fall asleep tonight.

Bored.

Let's see how many times I can type "bored" in the next ten minutes.

Bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored man I am so bored of typing bored.

Ha ha the teacher is yelling at two other students for not paying attention. And she's not even looking at me. Bahaha. She loves me.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.

Wow.

Why would frozen dinners be appealing to feminist housewives? "Here, since you don't agree with staying home all day and cooking, here's an easier way for you to cook!"

Like, what? No thanks, I'm'a go save the world kthxbye.

I can't even pay attention to this video anymore.

Life Lesson:

Grandpa: Do you know why Americans are so fat?

Cousin: Because food is so available. We can go to McDonald's and get something crappy to eat for a dollar and—

Grandpa: It's because no one bothers to put their shopping carts back in the cart corral.

boredboredboredboredboredboredboredboredboredbored

Gaaaawd, I hate it when people are all "No families ever sit down and eat dinner together anymore." I'm like "STFU, I eat dinner with my family every night."

Also, we cook REAL food. I think the only time I eat at Wendy's is when I happen to be out shopping or something with my dad and we're hungry and too busy to go home for lunch. We get a burger at Wendy's. And after we eat it we both swear we're not going to touch fast food again for a LOOOONG time, because we just feel sick. Bleh fast food is GROSS.

Bored.

"454545" said Ian.

He's bored, too.

How many of my five followers are still reading this? You, Nicole? I know you're not. You're just going to scroll to the bottom and comment "Wow you are so funny look at me commenting on your blog and upping your popularity! You should do the same for MYYYYY BLOG!" Well, post more, Nicole!

Oh, show's over. Bye!

Morph Hamsterball

There's this video game out there called Metroid Prime. I don't know how popular it is, so if none of you have heard of it, I'm sorry. On the other hand if everyone's heard of it, cool! I'm trying not to sound too hipster right now.

"There's this great game but you've probably never heard of it. It's called Metroid Prime. But the original game was way better than 'The Original'." I'm just making that up.

Anyway.

From what I've seen of the game it's pretty cool. I myself am awful at video games. I've only ever finished Aladdin's Math Quest.

My point is, I've only seen a little bit of Metroid Prime actually played out. From that little bit I've gathered that you're this badass chick named Samus who's got to go around shooting aliens with her arm-that's-actually-a-gun oh also PS your arm-gun can unlock some doors oh also PPS you're a contortionist.

Yeah...

You've got the super duper outer space suit that's got all kinds of visors and guns and it even lets you squeeze your whole body into this tiny little ball.

I estimated the scale here, but this is about how it looks in the game.

That's called the Morph Ball. It's somehow got Samus inside of it, and it can roll around and it can change direction and stop and basically looks like a little gold hamsterball.

Which brings me to my next point!

I really really really want to paint my hamsterball like the Morph Ball and put Bernadette inside of it and then laugh.

I do.

What Do I Do With $40?

I could save it, get $30 more, and bleach my hair again...

Con, it almost always looks dumb at first:

Pro: You're irresistible when it grows out:

...Um...

Or I could buy some colored contacts. Blue or green.

So actually this whole post was an excuse to play with Photoshop.

PS Those contacts last about two weeks... So...