It sounds like an official title, but really, that's a lie.
Dear 2 foot pile of snow in my driveway,
I hate you. It has nothing to do with your looks, your personality or your attitude. This hatred occurs mainly because you exist, and more importantly, you exist in my driveway. At first I didn't really notice. Only after you tried to trap my father leaving for work did I become aware of your existance, and learned that I need to remove you. This hatred grew when I spent my Wednesday sleeping, mainly from 7:30 that morning until 2:30 that afternoon, which happened to be the exact hours that I have for actually going to school. The hatred then compounded when I was told to use the snow floe. I hate the snow floe. Many of my childhood winter days tried to sit in that stupid ice floe in order to be pulled around my yard. I could never sit the snow floe. I could never catch it as my parents pulled it around, trying to clear the snow.
So really, this hatred has nothing to do with you exactly, but the fact that I had to move you created this animosity. But mother insisted, and you were removed. Slowly, and having to return twice and heat up with a hair dryer, I pushed you almost completely onto the road for the plow to push away. I killed you. ah ha ha ha ha ha! But, and this makes me want to cry, just a little, you came back yesterday, AFTER I had cleared you, and now you are back, mocking me. You are a bastard, and I will defeat you, because I really have no choice since my mother will make me shovel you later. I hate you, you ugly whore.
To the blog, Not you pile of snow. I shall be back later with pictures. Or I'll google white and post that, because its really snowy here.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
I have been thinking about my anonymity for about a week now. This blog is a way that I can talk without having to sensor myself as I do in my house and at school. At home, I don’t talk about school because it gets too complicated and I feel as if I should be able to deal with all the stuff at school by myself. It’s a part of my life that’s just mine, that I don’t have to share with anyone else. And the thing is, I’m an intensely private person. At school, I have to force myself to talk to my friends about my life. I’ve never had best friends before so after six years, I still feel like a beginner. So this blog is where I can yammer on about anything, any time I want for as long as I want.
I wonder whether I should use my real name here. It’s similar to what I want to do when I start writing. Should I use my name, or use a false name or just a false surname? It’s driving me crazy, but I’ll think about it some more later.
In other news.... Christmas here was uneventful. I don’t say that to be mean, but it stopped being exciting when I stopped asking for toys. Christmas kinda ends when the toys go away. Christmas is also unexciting because I`m jobless so I can`t buy anyone presents which is screwy. I wanted to make people gifts instead, but I don`t know what anyone wanted. I really suck at Christmas. I never know what anyone wants. I`m whining a lot. Let us continue on a different strain now.
Big moved out. I`m kinda upset because, you know I miss her and shit. But then I`m like, fuck it. Let her live her life and let her be. Fuck her, let`s focus on me. And she`s getting a dog, so I`m so freaking excited.
Ooh, so I got things to do. I`m going to be cutting out the material for a dress this afternoon and it will be done by the end of the break on the ninth. Ninth doesn`t have an e in it? What is this world coming to!? Or whatever. Other things to do before the break is over is to write a comparison essay about Carol Shields` The Stone Diaries and John Updike`s The Witches of Eastwick. So excited! Not. I have to read about four books before the break is over, and I can`t do it. I`m freaking. No not really. But I do want to read some books over the break. I also need to look into Bigger and Mom into Etsy because they both need to start selling their stuff. Mom and I also need to blog because Mom made me get a blog about etiquette. Because I`m so classy people. I know, you could tell.
I was thinking about hockey players for a couple of days now (because I've been watching hockey, reading hockey crap and waiting for the Winter Classic), and I have a list I want to meet. I just thought I`d put it down because I keep forgetting which ones I want to meet.
1. Sidney Crosby because it`s Sid and I just want to look at him, and got I have a huge crush on him! But don`t mention it to anyone)
2. Jonathan Toews because I really want to tell him about a million jokes and see him smile because making Captain Serious smile would be like bringing an extinct species back to life. Or something less noteworthy. Whatever.
3. Steven Stamkos so I can become his best friend and call him Steve, which really pisses him off, but he`ll be such good friends that I won`t notice.
4. Jared Staal because he`s the underrated Staal brother and I think he needs some attention. Not dirty attention you perverts. Geez.
5. Alex Ovechkin just to see whether I could understand him. And I`d wanna hang out and play basketball or something, because it would just be interesting.
There are others, but that's all I can think of for now. Life is cool. Been watching That 70`s Show for the past week. It`s nice. I also watched Miracle. That was good too. Man, I`m just a jabbering today aren`t I? Night peeps.