Birthday

So the12th was my birthday.I turned 19. By now,I've gotten used to having a lakckluster birthday. Every year, what I expect and what actually transpires are two very different things; what I expect is not much; just to have a nice cake, perhaps a nice present all wrapped up, and for people to just let me do my own thing, for one day. No one on my back about my shoes or anything silly. What happens?
The power goes out on the 11th, and thus I cannot shower, on my birthday becayse we don't have power. I have to go to work at 8 AM (which wasn't bad, I don't mind working on my bday) all unshowered and looking like a hot mess. I come home and have to vaccuum water out of my basement, and sit in the dark. Woo-hoo. ANd when I went out to dinner, I couldn't even order what I really wated, because it was too expensive and would detract from my gift, which was money. But whatever, all that I cared about at thispoint ws that I would get to have my chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. Do I get it? Nope. Instead, we go to Stop and shop and buy a mediocre cake and bring it to myfamily's christmas party. So, my mom pulls it out of the fridge to serve it. She balances it one one hand much like a waiter would do, and what happens??
It fell.
On the floor.
With me right there.
I was like........................
Are you kidding me?

although. later on I was happy because that meant I could have my mom cook me the cake I really wanted. Which she is doing right now.
Funny how that worked out.

Twilight

Don't ever read it. Enough said.

I fucking hate pie.

Pie is just fucking nasty. It's like the wal-mart of the dessert world, I feel: WAY too over popular (usually by people who shop at wal-mart, incidentally) and just blah and uninteresting. Pie is just so fucking nasty! With its dry crust, too gooey fruit or pudding filling. I hate it. And for my holidays, it's all my family makes! I just want to die every time I see pie sitting on the friggin food table at my nana's house. Really I just want to like throw it away. So, this year, I'm gunna make something I like; perhaps a Tiramisu or some holiday cake, something that is actually worth the effort it takes to make my way through the overcrowded kitchen, grab a plate, grab a eating untensil, serve a piece of shitty disgusting pie (because again its like all my family knows) Then find a place to sit and eat it. Which, incidentally, doesn't usually happen, so I end up standing which is even more unsavory. Damn it, I want to sit and eat my dessert! Why is that SUCH a challenge?
Ugh I just hate pie. It really ends up ruining my enjoyment of holiday desserts. I turn on the food network alot to find Paula Deen or Giada De Laurentiis making something amazing; such as a chocolate creme brulee or a lovely trifle. I see this and become hopeful; Maybe, just MAYBE someone will acquire some good taste and oh I don't know NOT make a pie, but make a trifle. I arrive at the party, every year all excited, waiting to look at the table and NOT see a pie glaring at me. I ask politely, "So what's for dessert?" the anticipation builds inside. NO pie!
"Oh, we have applie Pie, cherry pie and chocolate creme Pie, your favorite!" (being genuine. They really think I like pie)
and then, I die inside and slump away to a chair, not near the ungodly pie.

oh boy blogging!

So, I am not a terribly wonderful blogger, I think, but I'll try.
I just recently signed basck in, mainly to seek this one blogger. I have no idea what her username is, but my friend subscribes to her blogs and supposedly they are amazing. I want in on that shit, like truly. Supposedly she's like a fashionista who completely is blase about what is "Important" in life, like school, and just focuses on people watching. I must confess I am very similar and I'm glad to know there are others. I notice things like how frumpy my teacher looks during a day, or how that woman's hair is completely frizzed out. Like today, for instance; I was at a dance performance at my school and it was people watching HEAVEN. For instance, in the crowd, there was: a woman with an OUTRAGEOUS scrunchie. Like, I felt like I was in Mexico, and she was a young girl's mother and they were returning home from oh I don't know an event in town. SHe was very reminiscent of an aged yet graceful Spanish dancer, thanks to her beautiful black tulle scrunchie. Another man had a completely horrendous moustache and it distracted me quite a bit; I really wanted to shave it off him, but I kept my cool. Then, the dance professor walks out to introduce her class. She was an extremely stereotypical "artist" dancer. She was wearing all black; she had an amazing body and she pranced when she walked. as she walked out, I thought in my head in a semi-prissy female voice "Hii, thank you soo much for coming. This is my amazing group of dancers, and I am SOO proud of them; all the girls have worked SO hard and their efforts have truly paid off."
What does she say?
the same thing. Just with a little more priss in her voice and a little more tension in her mouth. I died in my chair. Then, the lights dimmed in a dramatic fashion, and the show commenced. Myself, personally I really think interpretive dance is like............a giant joke. I'm sorry but to see someone making senseless and overwraught girations to overemotional indie rock just does not work for me. The performance was like 3/4 of that mess. I again died in my seat. I could barely contain myself. and worse, I really thought Miss. intensity teacher was going to (dramatically) interrupt the show
point at me and say "Sir, in the black coat-"
"Me?" (I point to myself incredulously)
"Yes. You are being very rude. How dare you! That's it. Leave right now. nah mm-mm you're done! Go!" and thrust her finer towards the door all intense like. I really thought that shit would go down. SO what do I do? persist in my fit of silent yet noticeable laughter.
Don't judge me, I'm human.