Underwear

I am thinking too many things for them to make sense. I keep thinking about how much I love underwear when I don't have any to wear. Luckily, Jess gave me a pair that were actually mine, so I am in good comfort and support. My butt feels very happy to have a piece of lacy fabric caressing it. Its nice to know that a piece of fabric will have my back for LIFE! Except I need to wash all of mine.

Really, I am so tired. I, also, keep thinking about this: Say you're watching 30 rock with Tina Fey. Does Tina Fey as a human exist in that show? Or like is there an actor named Alec Baldwin in that show? What about Steven Baldwin, even though he's not in the show does he exist if his brother Alec doesn't? THERE ARE TOO MANY QUESTIONS!! GAH! That is another reason Tina Fey and I are a lot alike. She says a lot of the stupid things that I have always thought.

At this point you're thinking Brooke, go to bed, you need your rest for the day ahead! I say NAY! Too many thoughts and funny things happen when you are asleep. There is at least 8 hours of random stuff you are missing whilst sleeping, silently in your bed. I am not missing any of it. I am wide awake writing blogs and eating a bologna sandwich that happened to just roll down my chest. So now there is mayonnaise all over my hands and chest. Hot mental image I am sure! I also need to pee but it will hurt and that does not sound fun.

This is my last paragraph and then I am going to go lay down....maybe. Whenever I pull an all nighter I always hope the sun doesn't come up, because when it does that means I have stayed up all night and now I have to do things like put on pants and brush my teeth and put on make up. Ew. I don't like doing any of those things but I do them so that I don't look like a nudist that also happens to be homeless and unattractive. I personally like feeling pretty, its fun to occasionally have someone say, "You look nice today." Thus why I need to brush my teeth and do my make up. Though if someone said that I looked good without make up on I would automatically think they were lying so hard. So hard I might die.

I LIED! This is another paragraph! Ok but I am really going to close my eyes for a minute. Good bye cruel world

K I am done.

I am done being a oozing vagina now guys. I had myself a good cry while listening to all of the world's best emo songs. The only thing missing from this scenario is a razorblade to make me feel not numb, or to just take away the pain. As much fun as that sounds....its not...trust me, I have gotten stitches before due to my own stupidity...not awesome.
In better news, my bladder infection is back. That's fun. I am also completely out of underwear until Alex finishes his laundry. I AM WINNING! If Charlie Sheen met me he would be like "Holy shit, this is the fourth time your bladder infection has come back! Maybe you should learn to stop holding it in and finish your prescriptions." Then I will be like," Sheen, you go back to snorting coke and pulling out knives on your girlfriends, and I will go back to not taking my prescription meds."

I can't really think of anything else to write except I apologize for my girly mood swing blog. It made me feel like normal again though. That's a plus.

Really really sad.... :/

As much as I want to just be really freaking funny right now I am just really depressed and . Like seriously, I am listening to my playlist called "Sappy" right meow. I don't usually give in to this stuff, I am usually pretty confident, witty and charming or whatever, but today, today is different. Lately, I have felt extremely inadequate in everything that I can do. Most of them are stupid girly things like, I feel like I am not even remotely cute enough for anyone, ever. Or that I don't look like what certain group of people find attractive. I just think I look like a homely house wife who has (there is a lot of alliteration in that) nothing going for her, who smokes and drinks life away. There is a possibility that I look like a female Boo Radley as well. I am not a fan of it. I am not a fan of feeling (ALLITERATION AGAIN!) completely repulsive no matter how hard I try.

Loneliness has crept its way into my daily regimen. The loneliness wouldn't be a huge deal if I had my fucking cat. I had my cat for 11 years, she would always cuddle with me when I was sad. What's cool is I didn't even have to make her, she would just run and jump on me and cuddle me until I was happy or I fell asleep. I had to give her away when I lived with Landon. It was probably the worst experience of my life. I still catch myself thinking that she will be meowing when I get home, she's not. She was my baby basically. Not only that but she slept with me every night. I yearn for that. I miss her. I hate the fact that I go to sleep every night without saying I love you to someone I really truly love. Its stupid how much I still hurt over losing that. DEJA VU!!!!! Anyway, yes, I hate myself for not being able to keep that emotion/commitment in my life, I really do. All anyone really wants is to be loved by someone. I hate being lonely so much. I see how happy my ex is without me and it murders me. It makes me feel like I am meant to be by myself. Even with my friends I feel that way lately. Most of them are very caught up in material things, or sex. I have been far too caught up in that lately as well, which is ridiculously stupid. I would rather cuddle and say I love you than have sex at this point.

I apologize for the emo bullshit. I will be back to normal in a few days or hours I am sure of it. Sometimes you just get overwhelmed and need to recollect yourself before you dust yourself off and get back up. I am just feeling like lots of things about me need to change. Readjustment in life needed.

Facebook.

Sometimes Facebook likes to remind me that I stalk people. I was on my friend's page not five minutes ago and it was like Suggestions for People You Should Subscribe To!! The first three people are my friends that I stalk frequently. To the point where it is not good and I know way too much about their lives. It was just a little reminder as so how I have no life, and am creepy as balls.

This is usually what happens in my head when I am reminded about how weird I am:
Holy crap, did it really just tell me to subscribe to someone's facebook because I am on their page a lot?! Brooke, you are a smart girl, get up and use that to your advantage instead of just stalking these 3 people. You can also be cute if you want to be. So maybe you should get up brush your teeth, put make up on and put on some clean clothes and spend time with your friends. Maybe you would stop feeling so down on yourself if you were did something about it instead of being a creeper.

That's when I get really low on myself and Ekoorb says things like, "Yeah brain you're right, I am smart. Occasionally I even have some self confidence. Maybe I should do something about it.

Then the real me comes in and is like: Fuck that shit. Stay in bed and stalk your life away. Maybe you should like brush your teeth and stuff but putting on clean clothes?! Are you kidding me?! No. You are going to write blogs and eat bread with Alfredo sauce on it all day. Deal? Kdeal.

And so now I have decided to finish writing this blog and then I am going to pee because bladder infections scare me, and then I am going to watch Lord of the Rings :)

Denial.

This is the third time I have attempted to write a blog within the last 12 hours. I keep deleting the poop that comes out of my mouth because it is things like, "I ate bread with alfredo sauce last night." Or "Alex quit hiding people cigarettes in the ceiling!" That last statement wasn't said out loud, I definitely was thinking it though.

   I stopped writing last night because I passed out on my couch with a freaking adorable puppy. Now I am hiding underneath my blanket to keep me from realizing I woke up at 4:30 in the afternoon. Its still 4:30 in the morning under this blanket so I have every intention of staying under here until someone pries my dead, cold body out. Which wouldn't really be true, I would pretty much be a warm dead body since I am under a blanket. I just told my bedmate that I wasn't coming out from the blanket and he said, "Its ok, I will just kill you. They will be like 'Where's Brooke? She hasn't come out. Oh wait she never does,' so then no one will be suspicious and I will have an alliby. And then I will get rid of your body because we have dogs." To this I replied, "Just let me decompose on the bed." He said "No, on the floor." Then he left the room. But what I have to say to that is please keep the blankets over my head. I need to keep pretending it is not almost 6.

   And now it smells like a dentist office in here, and that is kind of intimidating when all you can hear is Lord of the Rings. 

   I came out of the blankets. It was getting hard to breath. Also I really need water.

Starbucks boy....

By the way me and starbucks boy never hung out. And I found out that he is friends with one of my most unfavorite people in the world who married this shitty girl because she got knocked up. She had the baby a few days ago, I hope it dies. That's mean. I hope she dies and her husband has to take care of the baby all by himself and suffer, because I strongly dislike him and his genitalia piercing wife, who is completely fucked in the head and thinks its cool to not forgive people for their mistakes.
    Starbucks boy probably doesn't understand the severity of his errors, I don't think he ever will until said female unleashes her judgemental vagina dragon to him, and then he will reconsider his thoughts and say, "I now know why Brooke called this girl a Cunt." With a capital "C" because she is still a proper noun. That's why this girl doesn't like me, because I told one person....yes 1, that she had pierced her clit, as in clitoris. If you are going to pierce something at least be open about it. Also getting knocked up and then getting married because of it might be a more obvious that you are having sex and you should probably forgive me, but that won't happen. But in all honesty, their son is probably going to run away before he turns five anyways. Anywho, I don't really care about Starbucks boy anymore. He is kind of strange. And obviously I this blog is not about him its about his stupid friends.

Curses!

My creative flow has been blocked by evil. I usually can sit down and think, "Brooke, write about this certain thing in your blog." And then I do and it turns into gold. But yesterday I have been halted. I realized people actually are reading this shit now, I feel like I have to impress ALL THE PEOPLE! So I am sitting on my twin bed, thinking about what I should write and all I can actually think is how excited I am that we are putting another bed in here! Yeah that's right, my own bed!! I can sleep by myself! As much fun as it is to have Alex as a bedmate I would rather be able to spread my long limbs and rest peacefully for 8 hours instead of what has been happening. I also have a job now. Its like the world is back to normal! GAH! I AM NOT USED TO THIS!! I just thought of three things to write about! Ok lets get started!

So I was asleep on the floor last night because my friend Liz, and Alex shared a bed, so I was on the floor. As I was unconscious I had a horrific dream. I had a dream I was pregnant. As we all know that is a level I have surpassed like almost over three years ago. Its been 3.5 years since I initially got pregnant. I am happy about this audience. Being not pregnant is AWESOME! And if you are as abstinent as I am you won't have to worry about getting back to that radiant bloated state for a while. In this dream I was oh, 3 months. Those of you who knew me three years ago would know I didn't show until I was 6 months and I didn't tell my mom until that point either. Then I exploded. The dream world told me different, that by 3 months you are a tub of baby just waiting to explode with placenta and life forms. I don't remember who knocked me up in the dream, all I remember is touching my belly and saying "Oh fuck! Again?!" Like six times. I woke up laying on my stomach and I thought, "I am hurting the baby!" So I turned over quickly and made a quick examination on if I was actually with child. GOOD NEWS! I am not :) It was all a dream and I don't have to worry about getting knocked up for another 4 years, because birth control is awesome!!

The other two things were, my bra is super squeaky! Its so fun! And then I made up a story about how one of my friends was kidnapped by a bear, a dragon and a giraffe last night while we were sitting outside my apartment smoking. Well we were actually laying on the cement trying to not laugh our asses off and everything.

Alright, I am off to fail my drug test. Peace out.

My personal quirks.

I have quirks, but first things first.

    I am sorry for writing bullshit/diarrhea (of which I cannot spell without spell check) that is lacking in substance and vocabulary. I don't know what has happened to my brain aside from the mass amounts of alcohol I have been consuming. I think that is probably the answer to all my problems. Ekoorb has also been out to play a lot more than I would like. I do this thing where I don't mix alcohol with my prescription drugs; I might be afraid of dying on the toilet like Elvis or overdosing like Jimmy Hendrix. As influential as they both were, dying from that sort of a thing makes me say, "I'll take my drugs separately, thanks." Getting "slizzard" is not as fun as the media makes it out to be. Though feeling like a G6 is still pretty fucking awesome, I don't know about you but feeling like a military jet is probably the most fun thing ever.

   Back to the point, I do some really weird things. Everyone has their OCD moments, where they have to do things in a specific order and if they don't they feel dirty and like the whole day will go awry. Like a shower regime, everyone has one! Mine goes like this: Shave, wash body, wash hair, put conditioner on my hair, wash my face and then rinse my hair and then my face. It takes me like 10 minutes to take a shower. But my quirks seem a little bit more strange than the normal humanoid.
    I hate taking a shower. I hate it. As Allie in this blog says, taking a shower is a chore for her. I feel about the same but for a different reason. For me the chore is disrobing, being cold and vulnerable, then getting warm, wet and cozy, and then being COLD, wet and vulnerable. I hate it. I hate being naked. I hate being doused frequently in water. And I HATE being cold.
   I plan stories I am going to tell my friends, and now to you guys. Ok here we go, like when I get a series of texts that I think are funny I won't read them to people, I will make it in to a full blown conversation that I can simply narrate to people instead. Or if I have to ask someone a favor or a question I will think of the best way to for the question so that I don't sound like an idiot, or that I am a total bum. Sometimes I want to seem completely desperate. When I was little I used to use logic to figure out facts (most of the time they weren't true) about dolphins, and then I would think about the best way to explain them to my mom without her knowing that I was completely bullshitting her. I would rehearse for hours in my head, just restating the made up facts. I don't actually think I got away with any of them but god bless my mother for putting up with it. I don't know why they were always about dolphins. That is some psychological garbage I don't want to look into right now. Oddly enough I have been thinking about writing about this since I was planning out a series of events to tell my friend Heidi.

    I can't hurt stuffed animals.....or pillows. My mom was a sensitive soul, and she loved dolphins.....HEY THAT'S WHY I MADE UP THOSE FACTS! So she loved dolphins and anything that had cotton in it really. When me or my other blood relatives that I call siblings got mad at each other or her she told us to hit our pillows. We were not allowed to hit each other. Well I am just as sensitive as my mom so I would NEVER hit my pillow, because my pillow was actually my mom's face. I didn't want to hit my mom's face, she was my mom and she loved me. Even if I was infuriated with her I would never punch my pillow. I reverted to cutting my hair off instead, which I'm sure made her punch her pillow. I am the youngest in my family, and my sister and I have a 6 year difference and she is the one just older than I am. Needless to say, I had no one to play with growing up. I had a select few friends but they were all weird and like playing princesses and crap like that whereas I like to play live action Poke'mon. SOOOOOO much cooler than fucking princesses. (I'm sorry Mom) I played photographer with my stuffed animals. I would set them up in families and take pictures of them. I was always the mom of my families. Which is kinda weird, I don't know what kind of man I would have to get to produce stuffed pig children. Obviously, one does not throw ones children! That is child abuse and those beautiful cotton packed pigs were my real legitimate children. In fact, my ex bought me a stuffed bunny once and I threw it because I was mad at him and immediately felt guilty and started crying because that bunny was our love child. The kissafer bunny still sleeps with me occasionally because I still feel bad.
   Letting my computer die, or my phone die, kills me inside. They do nothing but serve me all day and I just let them die. Its like if I were to ever have a slave, I could never beat them....too soon? They are just too good to me. They clean up after me, they make me food, how can you be outlandishly rude to someone who makes you FOOD!??! Seriously. Its the same with computers. Though, my phone is an absolute bitch to me! She, yes she, won't let me turn off my alarm clock, or answer my calls. And then she dies when I need her. Not cool phone. It really hurts my feelings when she does that.

   I have to chew on something at all times....that's all I have to say on that matter.

If you have any of these crazy ass quirks please let me know because I feel like I am crazy 90% of the time.

Things I am contantly reminded of.

I am forgetful. I forget pretty much everything aside from, names, faces, middle names and birthdays. Unfortunately this mean people have to remind me every now and again that I said something retarded. "Daniel, remember how you were there when I lost my virginity? You should be with me all the time!" That's something I said on Saturday. OH YEAH! Folks, I didn't die on Saturday!!! I got cut by a fence, fell out of a chair and woke up at 5 the next day. Death was not had! But yes, I forgot about that. Along with the following:

1. I am never going to own a twin sized bed again.
2. Armadillos, Hedgehogs and Giraffes are among the top greatest animals.
3. Wristcutters is a great movie.
4. That I get anxious about EVERYTHING! Which is probably why I don't go on dates.
5. Couches are too small for 2 people to sleep on.
6. I am the queen at not throwing up.
7. Armadillos are still CUTE AS BALLS! 
8. I need to get out of the house more
9. My eyesight is quickly degenerating.
10. That WoW is a lot more fun to watch than to listen to.

 All of these are based off of pure facts.

Staying up late

Never stay up late. Just don't do it!!! It never ends up the way you want it to. Remember when I tried to go down to Salem that one time from Spanish Fork and the Utah Transit Authority decided to let me miss it by mere seconds so I went home and then went over to Jess's and then got dumped that night? Yeah I sure do. K so I was at Jess's. She is awesome and stays up late. I did that. I do that a lot. I am really tired. Plus the fact that I never eat. Folks, I ate a full meal for the first time in three days because I hate making myself food. Jess and I went to Wendy's and we are both REALLY tired. First off, we're not wearing shoes and we are hungry. Within the first few minutes I said something about wanting to touch everything, then I proceeded to say that I haven't eaten in three days. Jess laughs and is reading everything out loud and laughing. You would've thought we were on meth. Really. We left and then ate outside and started rapping. I am never staying up late ever again...until the next time I stay up late.

Heido oh Heido, wherefore art thou Heido!

My tummy hurts a good amount of bad, and yet I won't do anything about it. But what I am doing about it is this: hiding under the covers. I thought I just heard Alex, I pulled off the covers really fast because I look like an idiot. Ok, so my stomach hurts because I should've listened to my mother. I should probably always listen to my mom when she says things, that's pretty hard for me to admit. But she was wrong about bladder infections. Lately I have been holding my pee in for too long. Apparently that fucks shit up and it hurts to pee, to the point where I whimper when I piddle. Its kind of awkward, even for me!
The love of my life/my best friend Heidi, was working one day and when she got a worrysome text from me saying, "I am literally pissing blood. Can you take me to the instacare in Springville?" She quickly replied with, "Are you sure its not your period?" I told her that it felt like a bearded dragon was trying to make its escape through my urethra, thus it wasn't my period.

This was before the pee blood and after the bearded dragon.

So I go to the doctor and they tell me I have to pay a co pay. I say bill that shit to my deadbeat dad, they said no you have to pay it now. I only had 7 dollars, and the co pay was 10, and Heidi had just left to go get some lunch. The stupid receptionist tells me to go stop her before she drove away. Let me reiterate what a UTI feels like, PISSING OUT A BEARDED DRAGON.

He looks happy. You don't.

You can imagine running while trying to pass a dragon through a bodily hole that extremely small, not as fun as it looks. I chase Heidi down and then I call her. She is awesome and gave me the three dollars I needed to actually see the doctor. So I go in and they tell me to pee in a cup. I obviously knew what I had to do, and I somehow managed to get the smallest amount of pee possible, so I had to try three more times, and I was crying. No I am not exaggerating even in the slightest fragment of you imagination, I was a blubbering bafoon. After I made it clear to them that there was no possible way I could get any more of the dragon out of my body, they released me from the dungeon I call a bathroom. Heidi was waiting for me and she asked me how it went, I didn't tell her I cried, there are some things that are better left unsaid. Though I did tell her the other day that I had cried from it and she said I was a retard and I should've told her. I also had to sit in the back seat of her car due to the puke that was covering the seat.
So in this story I am the princess, Heidi is the knight, her car is her steed and the bathroom is the dungeon. The dragon happened to be an infection in my urinary tract that has decided to come back with a vengence, because I am stupid and didn't take all of my pills, so now I have to drink a bunch of water or any liquid and actually tinkle out the infection. Yeah. Too much information? I don't care. Sit with it.

No more of that please.

Ugh. Too much alcohol. I only drink on weekends. But when I do I get FUCKED UP. I apologize to my mom for saying those offensive words. Not to mention I apologize for not listening to her when she said alcohol is bad for you, she is so right and so wrong.
I don't throw up when I am drunk. I throw up three days later. Or never for that matter, unless I am drinking whiskey then I puke profusely and have to go to the hospital, true story bro. I took a shot, which was stupid, of Everclear. If you don't know about how awful Everclear is then you are a smart human being. Everclear is basically 100% pure alcohol. Well not even basically, it is one hundred percent alcohol. I am getting nausiated thinking about it. The first time I drank it...well I don't remember most of that night. Might I add I drank an entire bottle to myself. Yeah that could kill you BUT I HAVE SURVIVED! I also ended up throwing up on my boyfriend at the time, its ok he is a dick.
Anyways, I took this said shot of everclear. I don't remember most of the night but I do remember winning a fight against a guy. I am quite proud of this actually. I am a pretty whimpy human being. But I didn't get my ass beat OR throw up :) good accomplishment for me if I do say so myself.
I know have an obligation to go and drink more. I really don't want to, but its my best friend's birthday and I told her I would. This may or may not be my last blog, because I might be dead tomorrow. If I am then I will say this: I love you all. The End.

ARE YOU YELLING IN YOUR BRAIN?!

So I am talking to my friend Schmall on Facebook. We have never met IRL (in real life to the lame folks out there) but we talk on the interwebs on like a daily basis, don't worry we have mutual friends that really exist. But so I am talking to him and suddenly I just start typing random word in all caps. One statement was "AND IT WILL BE MY BUM!" Then it hit me, I am constantly shouting in my head. Not only in my head, I shout on a regular basis. In fact, I have made up spelling for some of the sounds that come out of my mouth. They are all retarded. I mean that in the best way possible. The sounds I make are kind of like a deaf person talking combined with someone who has down syndrome, so its more like half retarded-half deaf.
If you really find it hard to believe, read like my first few blogs. They are mostly just shouts and sounds, put together to make a half-assed story that might either be in Farsi or English, its hard to tell. But it usually ends up sounding more like Farsi. What's weird is that I haven't shouted once in this blog. I HAVE FAILED MYSELF! There we go. I feel much more relaxed now. Its kind of like Tourette's but without the mental disability, and more awesome.

I'm moving.....AGAIN.

I am a single girl, who likes a boy, but sleeps in the same bed as her ex boyfriend, because I am homeless otherwise. We were dating, then we broke up, I had nowhere else to go so he let me stay with him. Nice guy, kinda....

So I get home on Sunday night, feeling awful. I was feeling so sick and tired that I just went straight to bed. I give props to Skyler to making it all the way to my house from Provo, which is 20 minutes away, and back home a half hour away from Provo, he is such a trooper, I kind of am idolizing him for it in fact. But I get home go to bed and stay home on Monday. Landon, the ex, comes home from hell knows what and asks me if I have found a place to live. I say yes but not until October. He then tells me I have until Friday to get all of my shit, from this house in Orem, and the other house in Spanish Fork, and myself out. Yeah....I had 3 days. Did I mention he found this out in the morning, and didn't tell me until oh, 10 p.m.?! Oh. Your. God. I was/am still pissed. Like really? As much as he wants me out, and as much as he was protecting my feelings, don't you think it would be, ya know, nice enough to tell me when I had FOUR days instead of 3?! Jesus probably hates him know because of that. *Landon I think might be gay for Jesus, just FYI. Like its bad. I get lectured about how I should love Jesus occasionally.

Luckily, I have this great friend named Alex, who is letting me live in his room with him. About 30 minutes after I heard the news I told him and he suggested that so I seized that window, obviously. I'm not retarded enough to be homeless. Funny thing is, I may have to share his bed....yeah....Another one of those awkward situations I get myself into.

I can honestly say I love my life and the crazy ass shit I put myself through. Like really, how many people do you know that sleep in the same bed as their ex? Yeah no one. You know why? Because they are ex's. These are my thoughts: "Brooke, you should sleep on the couch. Landon isn't your boyfriend anymore. And definitely DO NOT try and have sex with him!" "But Brooke, the couch is stupid and uncomfortable. And Landon is warm. Plus we have already had sex so what problem is it for one more pity sexytime?" "A lot of things. You need more morals."

I need to listen to my brain WAY more often.

No sleep til London.

To see Rou and his splendid spread. No bahhahahahaha not really. But really. But not really.
Attention ALL readers:
I have gotten no sleep, and I was drinking. End of story. This blog is about why I didn't feel like P. Diddy.


Once upon a time there was a me, or as Heidi just said a you. Me decided to go out on the town, which means drink in a house with several other underaged drinkers and a few legals. There was also this boy, the one that burned me with his cigarette, and he wanted to hang out with me. We went to Heidi's, he didn't drink and I did...a lot. Luckily I just played Mario with him and we cuddled. Then we went back to the sleeping place and made out for a little bit. Then Heidi walked in to the kitchen in her undies, and we stopped and he passed out and I tried and failed miserably at trying to sleep.

I am so sleepy! Sleepy sleep sleep!

AND I AM BACK!!!!

Fluoxitine. Yeah if you know what that is that means you are probably full of anxiety and woes, which in return means you're probably a great artist of some sort. To the rest of the world its prozac. Prozac is my antidepressant that I should be taking everyday. Guess what I haven't been doing?! Yeah. Its been about a week since I took them, turns out they actually do something.

Ok so now that I have explained that I will tell you when I don't take them I am quite similar to the late 19th century tale of like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but not in a giant scary "I am going to kill you and your 60 children" sort of a way. Its more like I turn into a 14 year old girl who is worried about fitting in at school, and yet oddly enough I was never like that when I was 14; In any case it is still strange. (Heh heh, get it!) I have decided my alter ego's name is Ekoorb (E-korb).When Brooke is stupid and doesn't take her happy pills like she should Ekoorb pops out her ugly, adolescent head. Ekoorb isn't so bad, just misunderstood. She likes to do all the same things I do. The only problem is she worries about the opposite sex. A LOT! To the point where she deleted a blog because she was afraid it was too off putting, and thought she'll never be able to date again if she wears her heart on her sleeve! Oh no what will the other kids at school say if they found out I like him! Aye! Estoy perdido!! Puta madre!! Some thoughts were even in Spanish.

If anyone doesn't know me, you should know this now, I haven't had a problem with telling boys I like them since about 5th grade, maybe 7th at most. I really don't care. I usually end up making the first move anyways because I don't care if I get rejected. If I do, its sad for a few days, I might cry and feel like a bearded witch but after that I usually end up trying again or finding someone new. Not a big deal.



I was fine today up until 10ish when Ekoorb was starting to convince me that Brooke has no friends and sucks really bad and probably smells like poop 85% of the time, but when she started talking about all that poop stuff Brooke just laughed, because poop is freaking hilarious, and invited a long lost friend Fluoxitine to come and keep Ekoorb at bay away from all the testosterone and puberty.

Ekoorb is a bitch

I also think that I was letting Ekoorb take control, thus my horrendous week of writers block. Thank the heavens, not just for 7/11, but for pharmaceutical drugs that keep our inner junior high student safe and sound our chemically unbalanced brain. Away from all the reality of how bad the whole homo saipen mating ritual really is, oh and just life in general.

I still have this problem

The problem: Writer's block. The other problem: Not being able to flirt.

Writer's block is something I have never experienced in my life before the last few days. Secretly I am hilarious, and I can always think of something to say as long as it is not about asking to borrow a car. That was my problem today HARDCORE. But that has nothing to do with the fact that I HAVE NOTHING INTERESTING TO WRITE ABOUT!! Currently I am watching a musical, talking to one of my oldest friends, and facebooking. I have moved about a quarter inch ALL today. All I need to do is just relax and think about how awesome and funny life is, but honestly, I am far too freaking bored.

    Oh and I think my mom is reading my blog thus is why I haven't included the "F" word anywhere in this blog. It was a hilarious facebook message from my mother actually, she told me to stop being a shit mouth. So I am listening to my mom.


Flirting. It just is not a strong point in my life. I am really awkward in bad at it! Though my dear friend Peter has helped me conquer some of that hurdle.

Anyways, I am bored. I am going to go outside and smoke and watch Archer. Good night, and good luck!

And then I had writer's block.

Comments. I need you to leave me a comment on what I should write about. I may pick only one but I may pick more than one.