A Rant and Some Observations

I love my creative writing class this semester, mostly because I'd never write anything otherwise.  Only, on Wednesday we got assigned seats.  Normally, I wouldn't mind this, but my new seat is surrounded completely (guy to my left, guy to my right, guy in front of me) of people who smell quite pungently of marijuana.  I really, really dislike the smell, and it's so hard to concentrate.  My mom suggested I ask to move seats, but how do I even do that?  I mean, going up and saying, "Excuse me, but can I change seats?  The area in the back of the room reeks of weed."  I don't think that would go over well.  Since that class, the smell hasn't been THAT bad, but I still don't like it.  I guess I'll just suck it up, I guess.

On a different note, I was just noticing all the differences from middle school and high school.  Probably the most noticeable is the differences in the way relationships work.  Like, back in middle school it was just like someone saying 'Um, well, I was wondering if you'd go out with, like, me, if y'know, you want to...', but in high school it's so different.  Like, in high school you can sit on your guy friends lap if there isn't a comfortable chair in after school activities.  While in middle school this is totally taboo, in high school not only is it perfectly acceptable by the teachers, but it also doesn't involve having a relationship with the person at all.  The longer I'm in high school, the more I like it...so much more fun ^.^  

The last thing I have to say is that I'm getting better at playing my role in the one act (girly, bitchy, and slutty/flirty).  Now that I'm getting the hang of it, it's a really fun role to play.  No wonder the girly girls always seem so happy.   I don't think I could act like that in real life for any extended period of time.  I mean, sometimes I'm girly, and more than often I can be bitchy, and I am occasionally flirty (not slutty though), but I could never be all three all the time.  It would be exhausting!  How do the girls do it?

Anyhoo, if you read what I write on here comment, please!  

Wannabe...who?

I watched American Idol after babysitting while doing my homework, and I laughed to myself about the judge's comments.  They kept telling contestant after contestant to 'be themselves like they were at auditions'.  There are so many things wrong with this statement.  First of all, I doubt anyone was 'themselves' trying out for American Idol, they were just trying to make the cut.  I don't know if I could handle that criticism.  What happens when you finally let down a facade and act the way you want to act, only to be told that it seems 'all fake', when it's really the real you?  I'm not just talking about on the show either.  Like, when someone is called a 'wannabe', but all they really want to be is themselves.  Can they ever succeed as themselves?  What if they can't?  Should they lie, agree that they were posing, and go back to the facade.  Or should they be a real 'poser'.  And if you're called a 'wannabe' when you aren't trying to be anyone...how can you be a want to be when you only want to be yourself?  Do I make no sense?  Am I rambling?  Yes, I am.  I've had a long day, and it's almost midnight when I'm writing this, so nothing coherent will come of this.  Just ramblings.  

On a less poetic, rambling note there is one good thing I am looking forward to this week.  One of my guy friends wants to try out a different hairstyle and is going to let me style it.  It's a stupid thing to be happy about, but like the hairstyle he wants is going to be REALLY fun to do and will look way better than his current haircut.  I just hope I can make it look the way we want it to look-- like spiked and messy.  I've never straightened hair other than my own, and none as short as his, so that should be interesting, too.  Straighteners and gel, yay!

Very Short Story (not very good, either)

I wrote a short story for Valentine's Day a couple of weeks ago, and I decided to post it here.  It's a bit on the whiny side and hasn't been edited at all.  Also, I don't dislike Valentine's Day the way my character does (candy and happy friends= yay).  That being said, here it goes:

It was February tenth, and she was sitting in her room, wallowing in the general mood that the time of year brought.  A "ding" from her computer indicated an IM had been sent to her.  She rotated in her chair and looked at it.  It was one of her guy friends, angrily asking her, "Do you have any idea how upset you made him?"

She sighed heavily and then tried to explain how she hadn't meant to hurt him.  After a long-winded justification he replied curtly, "Whatever."   She turned her computer, jabbing the power button harshly with her finger.  Everyone had been blaming her since the night before.

It was something about Valentine's Day; she mused, "a sugar coated ad campaign for diamonds and confidence that left everyone in a crazed mood in which they professed love and just tried to find someone, anyone."  After years of witnessing the phenomena, she had concluded that it was not a happy holiday.  Every year, she watched people get hurt trying to find happiness.  In the past, her strategy had always been to strategically avoid the boys that might ask her out, given the chance.  She didn't know why she stuck with the strategy, it never worked.  So, he had asked her out, hesitantly, nervous.  The silence between them was awful, so it was almost a relief when she finally spoke, "I'm sorry," it was all she said.

He looked at her, "That isn't going to change?"

This time she couldn't endure the suffocating silence so she just answered immediately this time, "No."  He turned, "I have to go," he said, not offering an excuse.

"Bye," she said, mostly to herself, "Sorry."

So yeah, that's my little angsty piece that I wrote on Valentine's.  I usually don't indulge in angst like this, but it was kind of fun.  Constructive criticism is welcome!    

I should be...

...sleeping, but it's supposed to be a snow day.  My costume for the one act is definitely the most dramatic out of all of them.  It certainly evokes more reactions than any other costume I've had to wear.  It's a shiny gold leotard with no back and a VERY low cut front.  Luckily, the director agreed to sew extra fabric in the front so that it was slightly more modest (thank goodness- I felt so slutty otherwise).  So, yeah, on top of that I have to wear a golden curly wig and some pretty amazing whore-gold-gloves (they are like entire arm gloves).  So, either people love it ('best costume in the whole play'), think it's hilarious (which it sort of it), or go 'it makes you look like a...whore/dancer in Vegas/etc'.  Oh well-- I suppose drama is supposed to be dramatic... 

So much...

...To get done.  My room is messy beyond belief, I have loads of homework to do, I want to get a haircut, I need to write, and what am I doing?  Blogging.  Pathetic, absolutely pathetic.