And it sucks that tomorrow is apparently Wednesday. I have this theory that I use to justify my absolute failure in the areas of science and maths and that is that I read things differently to other people and so my interpretation is generally completely off in subjects in which only one answer can be right. In subjects where you can go off topic and flourish along tangents this isn't perhaps a bad thing, but ah dear. Yes, I am full of crap.
We had parent teacher interviews today. I remember from A Cinderella Story (yes, the one when Hilary Duff was still kind of relevant to our generation, and Chad Michael Murray actually wasn't half bad looking. Oh shush, no judgements) one of the step sisters complained that her teachers would wonder to themselves why she sounded smart on paper, and not smart...not on paper, and I think that my situation isn't so different, except for the fact that while she got Cinderella to do hers, I get my little gnome friends I keep chained up in the attic to do mine. Sometimes the stuff that comes out of my mouth is so stupid and bimbo-y it's ridiculous. I thought that by the time I was 17 (ancient!) I would at the very least, sound intelligent and be able to casually throw sarcastic comments around like no monkey's business.
Is that even a saying?
Oops, I did it again. I played with your heart, got lost in the game. Oh baby baby oops you think I'm in looooove, that I'm sent from aboooove. I'm not. That. Innocent.
Britney. Oh Britney. Why did you have to go crazy just when I fell in love with your sparkly goodness?
So, again, there is no point to this post and I'm quite sorry, but not enough to actually apologise. Ahaha, how UNUSUAL of me. Goodness, I suck at life and I blame this entirely on the lack of projectness in my life. I keep going on about this but I'm too Hamlety to act! Ah, the perils of being a man of reason in an age of honour, where time is out of joint as we ponder the crisis of intellectual scepticism versus belief in the divine- inescapable mortality! Sympathy with death! No, I beg you sir, my favour lies in abundant life. A zest for life, if you will.
But, to what extent is an individual free? How far do we bend to society's unspoken conduct; over our own desires, our own primal instincts, our dionysian complex? Aduh. I can generally tolerate people of all kinds. (When I say tolerate, I mean hold back bitchy remarks or even facial expressions that may indicate anything other than a state of perfect pleasantness) But the one thing I've found that annoys the freaking hell out of my "lovely, polite" (Mr Williams quote) demure is anyone who plays the victim. There's certainly irony in this too, though, because I find myself frequently acting as the victim, I think. I try not to complain too much or appear too heavily burdened with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune but maybe I do, and if so, I sincerely apologise to all those in a 10km radius of me right this second. But basically, I'm just over feeling like the bad guy when really, it's not even my fault. Danke to the person who pointed that out so explicitly.
Whew. Essej lit vomit over with.
You know what's hilarious? Mrs Probst smiling at you because you did good. HILARIOUSLY TERRIFYING.
Do you like the elephant picture? I like it. I think it is nice.
Could you tolerate someone who thinks the sinking figure looks like a monkey? Because it does. Except that it's wearing pants. But still, it looks like a monkey.
ReplyDeleteI think that your comments are witty. And that you can casually toss sarcastic comments around like confetti. I used to think that confetti were mints. They sometimes look like mints.
Maybe that awesome monkey stamp makes you see monkeys everywhere. You're intolerable!
ReplyDeleteMonkeys wear pants sometimes. In horrible circuses where that sort of abuse is seen as funny.
Tomorrow will you stamp me?