The Fashion Of Nerdom

Hello....yes, I have not blogged in a while. I had much better things to do than spend my time entertaining my mind peons (that would be you....peon is much nicer than slave, don't cha think? {yes, master}) Actually, I haven't had much better things to do, but that's quite beside the point. In fact, pretty much the only bloggable thing I did during my lengthy absence has been to discover a sense of style, one beyond "whatever's comfy". 

You heard correctly, the music hating and poorly dressed nerd who you met at the beginning of our adventure through the magical world of blogging (where unicorns and lemon scented bunnies abound) has, perhaps through the power of grape flavored bubbles or said unicorns, both filled an ipod and a closet. WAIT! Don't panic and think I went all runway on you. Remember my taste in music. Remember my inherent nerdiness. Look at the picture, for goodness sake! Yes, I am wearing neon blue pants, an oversized pink sweater, and a shirt with the pope on it (in pink!)...what else did you expect...hmmm?! I would NEVER abandon my ideals (and thrashed black converse with DFTBA scrawled on the on them in multiple places) just to be stylish! No, my new fashion is more of a ME fashion, one that involves granny glasses and non matching clothes, shirts that ask "what's up home skillet?" and feature everyone's favorite kitchen friend (you don't befriend skillets? How dare you?!) . SO don't worry...even though getting dressed takes longer than five seconds now, and I actually care about clothes, this change has actually made me MORE nerd-tastic (if that was even possible) Have fun, lesser peoples!!! (just kidding, I love you, little mind slaves)

SWINE!!!

Okay, there's been a lot of drama lately, which is why I haven't been posting. If you are easily bored, please skip to the next paragraph. I'll be really quick with this update part, and get onto the juicy-like-the-inside-of-a-juicebox part soon. First of all, I've hit 350 pages with EC:NW! Font changes rock my world. (They should rock yours too, mind slaves!) Second, I found this really great forum on FP-Break Writer's Block (it actually prevents me from writing, but whatever). Third, my mom finally gave Kim (is that her code name?) from carpool a good lecturing. (Thank you, parental unit!) However, none of this news, super exciting as it is, can overshadow what happened next: (dundundunduh!) SWINE FLU!!!

Yes yes, I understand the insane panic that has been brought on by the creepily smiling and caffeine crazed media is only slightly entertaining, and that the needless freakouts of millions are actually quite tragic, and that it was all a plot by the news to make money (well, not that last one, but you need some conspiracy theory soup to get through the day...well, I do...you really don't?). But here's the thing" SWINE FLU SETS ME OFF  MORE THAN IF I WERE A COW AND FARMER BOB GOT THE BRIGHT IDEA OF SPREADING FOOD ON THE ELECTRIC FENCE! Yes, that upset, including the capitals. 

Here's why:

Recently, rumors have been flying around that my school, which has had record absences recently,  has had "over twenty" cases of ole H1N1. I knew that (duuuuuh) this was a HUGE exaggeration, but we got cute little nicknames, like Flu-y-ville, so I let it slide and basked in the panic. (twisted little demon, aren't I?) Then, we had the announcement. 

There I was, zoning out in homeroom, as usual, when the PA started up with it's usual annoying-yet-awesome random music (I think it was 'C is for Cookie', that day). I pricked up my ears, not wanting to miss anything important, like GASP another bake sale (I really think they should announce when we DON'T have a bake sale. We seriously have one every day, which is good, except when it's the Explorers club with their organic vegan [bleh] brownies) But instead, I heard a more serious announcement.

"Hey girls! TOday, we are going to have a special presentation by the health department!"

(How on earth could such a boring message be delivered with such pep? Answer: caffeine, just like the newscasters use.)

Amid the half groans of my prisonmates, I file out to the freshman lawn, where we were met by this miniscule lady from the health department. Seriously, this woman was more than petite. She had to stand on a bench so we could see, and she was wearing 5 inch heels! Anyway, after a little introduction, where she acted like we were three and asked if we knew what germ were (itty bitty buggy thingies that make you feel sick(y?), apparently) Then, she cut to the chase, we had swine at school!

The noise was deafening. There were most people, asking panicked questions or screaming, and the freaks like me, who cheered. (This means 14 days out of school! ) BEfore you call me evil, understand that I knew that the swine flu wasn't much worse than the regular flu, because I had this gadget called the internet, with which I had looked up this amazing invention called 'scientific research'. So, I knew we shouldn't worry, but I was counting on panicpower to give us a little time off. 

Then, she dropped the bombshell: we weren't getting off school. This was such a disappointment that I barely had time to relish the screams of terror emitting from my shocked classmates. WHAT!?! Why couldn't they shut down school, THEN figure out swine wasn't too bad? WHY WHY WHY? Gosh, that darn health department does things just to annoy me. AFter that, I endured a lecture on coughing, then went back to class. D; 

The light in the storm: one of the most annoying teachers freaked out and won't be back until next week! AND I only have 14  schooldays until finals!!! (Which I actually enjoy taking)

Until next time, stay swine free and gorgeous, mind slaves!

Social Stereotypes

Okay, this post is semi-serious (read: slightly unfunny) But, as my mind slaves, you have to read it. (Sometimes I wonder: Do my mind slaves really exist, or are you all merely projections of my egotistical mind? Do most of  the scarce commenters never return? Have all of my posts even been read? Ah, well, I prefer to live in delusion.)

OOOOKKKAAAYYY, now that that freaky tangent is over, I'll have a short little plug-a-palooza before we start. Ready? GO to my fictionpress (Everwind Master). GO to my youtube (Chicgeek94). CLICK on all those ads you see (I will give you an invisible cookie). PET a squirrel!

Now that you've been brainwashed and have done that, I'll get to my real point. (Hint: see the title of this post) I know all of you know that I know that everyone knows what social stereotypes are, but in case you've always lived in a non-see through, sound proof bubble all your life, I'll tell you. They are labels: Prep, Jock, Nerd, Goth, Emo, Punk, Drama geek, ect. Did you really think I'd list all twenty million of them? Anyway....they stink. I don't know (and I mean KNOW, not just on the surface) a single human being that really fits in one group. Okay, maybe I do (I just remembered some.) But my point is, plenty of people aren't part of just one clique. (Yes, I know this sounds hypocritical, I'll address that in a moment.) Take me for example. I know that I self label as a nerd, but I'm not completely a nerd. I have strong nerdy tendencies, and I hang out with lots and lots of nerds, but I have a non-nerdy side. Sure, I wear glasses, and get good grades, and stink at sports, and love reading with a passion, but I'm 100% SURE that I'm not a 100% nerd. Honestly, I've seen real full fledged nerds (most are in denial. They are some of my best friends. I won't tell anyone which of them I consider nerdy.) and ain't one of them. (Did I honestly just type ain't?) (Wow, this post is going nowhere, it has no direction.....it would be an F if it was an essay. ) Anyhow, I wanted to know something (COMMENT) Do you think I'm a nerd? What do you consider me to be? What do you consider yourself to be? Doesn't this sociological phenomena of sorting people into groups fascinate you? Does it annoy you? Do you ever try to discover the distinguishing features of each group, only to find that they vary in the mind of each individual? Well, let me know! Comment, discuss! GO!

Zit Karma

I'm home sick today, so no CCQ. 

First, a note for all people who read and don't comment. Those who comment may skip this paragraph. Starting...NOW!

Hello lovely child! You read but don't comment, right? I see. I have a great idea! With all that time and energy you save by not commenting, you'll be able to fit a very fulfilling new exercise into your day. Here's what I suggest: Don your most stylish black clothes (It's very flattening). Then, wait until nighttime and take a nice moonlit stroll near your local road. Don't bring a flashlight, it might block the beautiful headlights. Remember- sidewalks are for squares! Have you decided to comment now? Fantastic, you're back to being a good little mind slave*.

Okay, now that we've rid ourselves of those pesky little rebels, we can get on with the topic of the day: zit karma. Yes, I know the real definition of karma, and that it is nothing like what I'm describing, but we can pretend, can't we? (read: you WILL pretend, mind slaves, master commands it!) Recently I have discovered a clever piece of magic that I call zit karma. This is how it went down:

I, being a teenager, have recently begun to aquire those nasty little nuggets of facial irritation known fondly as zits. I don't really enjoy sharing my face with these crusty red buggers, but I've resolved to let them stay a while, rent-free. For all those wondering why, it's because the diminutive demons won't go away, even when I ask nicely! (Hey, it works with slow computers. You should try it sometime. Repeat after me: Nice computer, you can do it! Yay, you CAN load the page! Please!!!) But those rude zits don't know good manners when they see them, and they refused to leave. I also tried those zit creams and acne washes, but they only make the scarlet terrorists angry.  I can picture them talking, in their little zit language:

Hey Julia tried to exfoliate us!

Ew, cream! What is she trying to do?

I think she's trying to kick us out!

No fair! Let's get back at her!

Hey, call your friends, let's build an army on Julia's nose!

I call her forehead.

Let's show her what t-zone really stands for!

TROUBLE (that starts with t which rhymes with p and that stands for pool!)**

So, as I was saying, I gave up. Then (this is where the karma comes in), my mom started making mean little teasing comments. Did she really need to point out the zits? NO! (Her: "Hmm, I wonder if Julia notices the enormous red volcano in the middle of her face? NAH! I'd better point it out. Multiple times, in case she forgets") I was just beginning to get a teensey but annoyed with this when something magical happened. My mom pointed out a zit on my forehead. An hour later, Mommy has an even bigger zit on  HER forehead! The same thing with her nose, chin, and cheek. By the end of the day, mommy's face is a perfect map of Julia's*** zits, but way bigger. Yay zit karma!!!

There are two beautiful morals to this story. (Who knew you'd learn so much?) 1. Never, ever, point out a zit, unless you want a matching one. 2. If you have a zit, trick someone into pointing it out so you can secretly giggle at their huger one! (Moral 2 is more important!) Farewell for now, mind slaves!

* If you're wondering anything at this point, read the first entry

**sorry, I couldn't help myself

***I don't know why this is in third person, btw

Vacation has Ended, Carpool Returns!

Today is a sad, sad day. Spring vacation has finally ended, and school has started again. Hey! It's 110 degrees!!! Why are we in school???? In the words of my dear Mr. C., "They should just stop school at a certain temperature." Now, after a not so productive but semi-peaceful spring break, I'm back to the woe that is high school. (read : stress!!!) I don't really mind the homework, or the stifling hot blazer/ knee sock/polyester combination that is dress uniform, but there is one thing about the end of break that I cannot live with: CARPOOL!!!

Now don't get me wrong, I love helping the environment (it's Earth month, people!), but these girls are IMPOSSIBLE to drive with!!! Here's the backstory: My carpool consists of five 10th graders and two freshmen. I'll use code names here. First, the 10th graders- Kim is a huge brat who has this laugh that grates upon my very soul. Plus she's really really mean. BTW, she's an ubershort cheerleader. Nancy is nice, but she hardly ever comes (except in mornings), because of sports. Hannah is quiet, but Kim spends the entire 30 MINUTE trip making snide comments about her. Kelly is a bit weird (not in a good way, mind you), but I don't really care since she's only there mornings. Cristy is in the same boat as Hannah. Amy is almost as annoying as Kim, but a trifle less annoying.  Amy and Kim are rich, spoiled "lovely children". (Ex: Kim is on her . The other 9th grader, Kristen, is okay, though she has a HUGE rivalry with Kim. (You'd think they were 3!)

I could ignore Kim (I'm quite good at spacing out, if I do say so myself), but for one thing. She insists that the sophmores (all under five foot, mind you) sit up front, while Kristen and I, both around five foot ten-ish, are squashed in the back- with their bags. I could rant all day about this one- why are the backs of suv's so tiny? why is my head touching the ceiling, even when I'm doubled over? On what planet does this make sense? Why is Hannah always in the back, too? Why don't they put their bags in the freaking trunk??? Why do they carry so much, when half of it is crap they never use? The answer: To TORTURE me!!!!

Okay, over-exaggeration, I know but still: My carpool sucks! I wish Kim would take my suggestion and try golfing in the rain. (I said this when she called me retarded for arguing that the Arts Channel's "Paranormal State" does NOT constitute scientific proof of the evidence of ghosts, and that no, it is not "completely unedited, even the boring parts" because an hour show spans several days!) Sorry for the off topic mini rant. Anyhoo, the reason I'm saying all this is because I'm adding a new part to this blog. I call it CCQ. (crazy/crappy/crusty/childish/curlish/ other negative 'c' adjective carpool quotes)

So,, without further ado, today's CCQ is the following, featuring Kim, Amy, and a special guest who's their friend (read they talk an awful lot about her behind her back), whom I'll call SG.

SG- I was thinking about painting my nails orange.

Amy- No, don't do orange.

Kim- Yeah, orange is soooo* tacky. How about neon pink zebra stripes! That'd be SOOOOO super cute!

Amy- OOOH, YEah!!! They'd be even better with sparkles!!!

Kim- OMG (she really said the letters) That's a GREAT idea!!! I want mine! We should soooo totally do them together.

SG- Let's go tomorrow!

HOW is orange more tacky than sparkly neon pink zebra stripes. I'm no fashion expert, but, unless I'm terribly wrong, any of the words "neon" "pink" "sparkly" and "zebra stripes" used in combination indicate immediate tackiness, right along with "bedazzled", "feathered", "sequined", "Red White and Blue" and their other notorious cousins.

* I removed multiple o's from all so's and ooh's. The real depiction would have taken multiple lines.

Quotes of Wonder

PLEASE COMMENT- I live for comments!

Okay, these are random quotes from the people who make my life interesting.

She IS a lovely child -Jackie (lovely child= every cuss word you know)

We are SO room temperature! -Danielle

Mr. BIRDY!!!- Molly (code for period)

Your lines are too messy to live. Please don't thin k I support Euthanasia. -  Mrs. S. (geometry teacher).

Be the best ant you can be, girls!- Mr. C. (history teacher, when discussing Hinduism)

Mr. C, is: a) sumerian god b) that dude with the beard c)are we done yet? d) who?- Mr.C. (on history test)

Put your homework in the oven!- Mom

You got coleslaw on my phone!- me

I would, but the buildup of fluid that has flowed through my kidneys is starting to cause a not so comfortable sensation. The pressure in my bladder MUST be relieved!- a friend (yes, she did say that- I'd rather not cause embarrassment)

Yum! Zits!- (don't ask)

Is coffee that brown stuff?- that girl i  my homeroom, who was being serious and holding a Starbucks cup.

My duty is to exterminate you. You're out of control!- sister (3 yrs old, holding bucket of soapy water. I'd rather not remember the sorrow that followed)

Yes, these are wonderful quotes. Don't like them? Well, lovely child, this isn't your post now, is it?

Writing Woes

Hi, my name is Julia, and I haven’t worked on my book in six days. YES you’ve just walked into the Lazy Writers Support Group meeting. It’s not like I have the non-existent-it-was-made-up-by-people-who-can’t-write writer’s block, I just haven’t written. Every time I turn on my computer to write, I go to the internet to put on my music. While I’m on the internet, I might as well check my e-mail. Hey, the news- I could get inspiration. Oh, let’s answer a few questions on Yahoo Answers! Aww, reading the Shine blogs won’t take that long. Hmm, I haven’t checked my FictionPress in a while, I should probably leave a comment on some forum in the desperate quest for poetry reviews. OMGosh! I haven’t worked on my non-website recently (shameless plug for the new book review page)! Hey, what was I doing before? Oh yeah, writing....Wait, why is my battery dead? How long has it been, anyway? FOUR HOURS!!!???!!! It’s time for bed...I’ll write tomorrow (repeat same cycle). OOPS! I just realized that I’m wasting time right now! I’m utterly hopeless! TTFN! I’m off to write!

Boys Boys Boys

* I know I said this wouldn't read like your average diary. It still won't, I promise. This entry isn't me gushing about some "hawt" guy. It's really more of a short and pointless rant on my own cluelessness.

Okay, I’m a tad delayed when it comes to boys. All right, I’m utterly lost. I like a few boys (who I’m not stupid enough to name, even in private). Not that I want a boyfriend yet or anything, but I’d like to someday. Thing is, I’m terribly ignorant about certain female skills, like flirting. Yes, even though my mom tortured me with a flirting role play (an experience burned into my memory), I have no clue how to flirt. I’m just too shy! Hey! at least I know when someone is 

flirting with me, even if I don’t have a clue what to do about it. 

Hmm, this blog was pointless. (Maybe I should meet some archeologists? Nah, I'm too new to be dated!) {