8. One Word.

Bologna. Elementary.  Akagi. Clear Creek. Squirrel. Up. Russell. Kohls. Shoes. Socks. Winter. Model. Yearbook. C+. Brown-Noser. Dane. Mustache. Curl. Ice. Pebble. Zupas. TBA. Healthy. Gross. Smell. Cologne. Hollister. Shack. Shrimp. Hawaii. Ocean. Dieing. Tombstone. Message.  Love. 9. California. Twinkie. Oooz. Puss. Eye. Pointy.


My brain is fried
#7hourshifttoday

Two Words.

"Thank you."

Two words don't usually mean a whole lot, except for these two. It's nice to hear them once in a while..especially while you're at work in a stressful environment and someone realizes the time you put into their meal.

Thank you can be a response for so many things--I just love it!

It was a short post,
thank you for reading.

7. This is a Direct Order.

Keep 

Calm 

and 

Be Happy.

(Wannabe "Keep Calm and blah blah blah" Poster. But lets be honest, being happier makes things better.)

It's a nice Quote.

Nice Quote:

"Every storm runs out of Rain."

-Gary Allen

Dear Reader.

A Letter to Mr. Nelson's Creative Writing Students,

You surround me and I applaud you.  I don't know how you do it,  I can never compare to any of you.  The way you write captivates me and makes me want to be better.

I still haven't posted a quote to my blog because I can't choose just one. There are so many!! Really. I am surrounded by authors.  If anyone is actually reading this, give yourself a pat on the back.  Cause you are unreal and are an inspiration to me.

Fall Break---I actually thought about my blog posts (being out of town (its a big deal)). I wrote poems and stories and post after post after post; All to be left in my drafts.  So what I ended up doing=Not being indie. a.k.a. being a tourist. a well thought out tourist mind you.

And that's all I'll ever be.  It may be a disappointment to Mr. Nelson. I try and be a good writer trust me.  But I just never seem to measure up.  Charlotte Charles, I Aint a Doll, Sally J Skinny Love, Understanding Man, all of You. You're such good writers I don't get it.  Nobody probably even reads this so who am I talking to?
Myself.

So Congratulations. You're amazing. :) Take pride in your writing.

Sincerely,  A Lost but hopeful Writer.

6. Mr. Nelsons Shopping List.

Bricks.

Duct Tape.

#tourist

Being a 90's Kid.

Do I even count? I was 6 when the 90's ended. It still doesn't mean my life wouldn't be complete without Mr. Feeny:

and all of Full House:

 
But we really can't forget Fresh Prince:

this one's a little inappropriate...i probably shouldn't have even considered posting it. but i did.

I really could go on and on. I love watching these reruns....so great.

5. *Death is not the End of me.

death; noun. the act of dying;  the end of life; the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism.

My great-grandma lived till the age of 97; and died at the age of 103.  She died at the age of 97 and lived till she was 103. Thinking about them hard, both statements make sense. 

Or maybe not.

I don't know.

Is the definition of being alive; breathing, eating, and sleeping? Or is it hoping, doing, dreaming, and even loving? We've been talking in class about knowing you're going to die but not being dead yet.  My brain is in shambles because I never know where to begin when talking or thinking about death. 

When do we consider ourselves dead? Is it when we can't do the things we love and enjoy life or when our physical heart stops beating?  thump thump. I'm not dead but I'm certainly not living.

You can die and still be alive, but you're only alive till you die. It's like the math statement (the one thing I remember from great Mr. Carrillo's geometry class) of how a square can be a rectangle but a rectangle cannot be a square... How do you think the rectangle feels? My brain feels like its dead.  

Death, Death, Death.

Did that make sense? Any sense whatsoever. Or did it just leave you feeling how I feel while reading one of those indie posts that everyone who's anyone loves and I have no idea what the heck they're talking about.

Because in all honesty, it confused me just trying to think about it. And I'm okay with not talking about death for the next year, so I'll just stick with my opinion being we only live once. My little uncreative opinion. YOLO.

It Must Just Be me.

A girl told me this morning she only had five minutes to get ready so she looks like crap and left the house less than ten minutes after she woke up.  She had her hair curled, makeup was flawless, and had a cute matching outfit on.

I on the other hand had plenty of time to get ready. I picked out a seasonal ugly sweatshirt to wear with some leggings and quickly braided my bangs to the side not wanting to do much with my hair.  Nonetheless being quite pleased with my appearance I went to school thinking I looked fine. 

Confused by the girl's situation, I thought about it.--Probably a little too much. But it really had me thinking.  Are we so caught up on what we look like, who we impress, or how we spend our spare time that we forget to just ease back and enjoy the party of life?

Obviously the girl had taken more than five minutes, it's impossible to get the amount of ready that she did in such a short amount of time.  (But that's just my opinion, she could be Wonder Woman for all I know.) But it was so important that she had the right image. Not conceded,  she doesn't need a lot of time for herself. Can be pretty easilly...I don't know. I'm an overthinker.
Party. Life is a party and it's meant to be enjoyed! Am I thinking the same as others? Or is it just me..



I don't get it.
It Must Just Be me.



Now here's something to lighten the slightly depressing mood I just created.

It somehow applies.