oh WOW oh WOW

Barely a year after my last post. I was such a motherfucking tool back then.

New blog!

I decided that since I have a journal about my personal life, I have a new blog, www.cclovessoy.blogspot.com, about cool stuff I find.

Be there.

Procrastination (is it water on the knee?)

Damn. I haven't posted in a month. And of course now I'm only posting because I don't want to write my English and history essays.

I'm not sure why I post, anyway. Nobody reads it. I wish more people did. I think I'm entertaining enough. If you're reading this, comment so I can feel loved.

Fourth of July is coming up (and I'm leaving for camp on the fifth). Y'all know what that means. Make-out-on-the-beach-with-a-girl time!

That was a joke. Joking about last year. When Anonymous described in vivid detail how me and one of my girls were hooking up. Propaganda.

In fact, I've never hooked up. I've never been drunk. I've never been high.

I wonder if Anette (my mom) still reads this.

Well, if she does, I'm more honest on here than I'd ever be with her in REAL LIFE.

I've never had opportunities to do those things. I'd definitely hook up (as long as he wasn't gross), I'd definitely get drunk (and risk Steve kicking my ass), and I might get high.

I'd feel really guilty getting high. I asked Steve once if he ever had (still not sure I believe him) and he started going on about how drugs are really different from alcohol and how people say it's not a big deal and how it is a big deal and how you can get addicted and things like that. So I'd feel guilty.

I have my own high though; Ms. Nagor would call it my natural high (snort), but I don't know how natural it is. I don't sleep. And then I get a high. It's amazing.

I wish I was a better photographer. That's what I want to make a career out of, but I'm really not awesome. Check out my deviantart, http://swedesrockharder.deviantart.com/, and tell me how it is.

I joined a group on Facebook today. I love Facebook groups. I'm addicted. I joined a group called something like "I'm sexually inappropriate with my friends but I'm not actually a Lesbian." Because that's the truth. So many people think I'm gay! It's so strange. They obviously don't know me AT ALL. I'm like the horniest little mofo (God, I REALLY hope Anette doesn't read this). Girls don't turn me on.

Andrew really made me respect him a lot more when he said that when the idiotic sophomore girls freak out when I walk by them, saying, "There goes the Lesbian!" he tells them that I'm not, and what would it matter if I was?

I have short hair. I wear motorcycle boots. I'm vegan. I guess I understand how people would think I'm a total bull dyke. But I have short hair because it's funky and different. And motorcycle boots are really cool and so versatile. And I'm vegan because I love animals, have morals, value my health, and would like to help the environment.

Corinne hates that I'm vegan. I don't know why.

I discovered how exciting it is to plant a vegetable garden and grow it. My strawberries and three tomato plants are flowering. I can eat the lettuce. The spinach is growing. The basil is huge. The catnip is... well, the catnip's destroyed, thanks to my cat and the neighbourhood strays. The snowpeas have little mini snowpeas just starting to grow. The watermelon died, but that's alright. The rosemary, parsley, and mint I don't care about. They basically stayed the same. They're for Anette.

Oh, to date, I've lost ten pounds. I'm really excited by that. I celebrated by eating a pint of soy ice cream.

No, I'm totally kidding. But I really did lose ten pounds. I understand now how people can become weight freaks. Lately, people have been like, "You look so lean! Did you lose weight? You have a very erotic physique" (that last one was Jess). And I can imagine what they'd say if I lost another ten. But then I'd be 104 lb. and 5'4", and I don't think that's healthy.

Now I just need to tone.

I went to Whole Foods for the first time Friday and totally orgasmed. I nearly peed myself with excitement. I want it to be my final resting place. There's so much vegan stuff, so much healthy stuff, for ridiculously high prices. I think I want to have a protest. Health food stores and companies take advantage of health-conscious people and of vegans. It's not fair. I want to retaliate.

I'm also going to hand out fliers at KFC as soon as they come in the mail from PETA. I really want to become active in preserving animal rights, human rights, and the environment.

But first, I have to get through school. I have a ridiculous amount of work to do. It's really not cool. I have to make up Spanish work. I have to write two essays. I have to study for finals. I have to do my Chefs project. I need to prepare for the Relay. I need to get a dress for Sara Salt's sweet sixteen. I need to help Corinne organize our garden party (which I think we're going overboard with).

Well. This took up a sufficient amount of time. I think I can get back to Romeo and Juliet. I memorized my seventeen lines last night.

The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse.
In half an hour she promised to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him. That's not so.
Oh, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over lowering hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw love,
And therefore hath wind-swift Cupid wings.
How is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours; yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She would be as swift in motion as a ball,
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me.
But old folks, many feign as they were dead,
Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.

Ah, Juliet. I've discovered a love for Shakespeare.

So now I have to get back to it.

-sigh-

I am positively sensitive.

Mike doesn't have a blog/doesn't check blogs, so it's okay for me to write this up here. I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE TO KNOW THEY GET TO ME.

I was made to cry twice today.

I do have my period, unexpectedly, though. It was only a 26-day cycle, whereas I'm normally 32. What the hell is up with that???

Anyway, maybe that's why I found myself biting back tears twice today.

I mean, I had a field trip today, where I had so much fun, and I still cried twice!

First. I got a new haircut that I have sort of a love-hate relationship with. I love that it's really unique, and it shows people I'm spontaneous and that I live in the moment, and it feels pixie-ish (thanks, Cori). I hate that it shows my ears that I'm so self-conscious about and it's kind of mannish and kind of ugly and I look kind of like a dyke.

Yeah, it's really short.

So, I'm really self-conscious about my ears. I always have been. They're huge and they stick out. A lot. I'm very self-conscious.

Mike wasn't at the Formal (fun!), and I didn't see anybody all weekend since I volunteered at the Arbor Day Festival at Planting Fields, so he saw my new haircut for the first time today. I was liking it this morning! I get into school to get ready for my field trip, Mike walks up to me with a funny look on his face. And I was kind of like, "Well, this is going to suck." He puts his hands up to his head, kind of mimicking what ears look like, and says, "That new haircut, it makes your ears look huge. They stick out so much!"

And I was hurt briefly. And then I got pissed. "Mike, you're a dick. Shut the fuck up." "Your ears-" "Fuck off. Go away."

And then I got hurt again. And cried on my way to the Chefs classroom.

It really hurt my feelings!

I have a lot of homework. I have Interact, and I have a captains' meeting.

I'm also pretty hurt that the guys don't want to be on my team. I feel like an idiot for having such a "gay" name. I thought it was fun. But now I feel stupid.

The field trip was awesomen, though. We went to Kitchen Kabaret for breakfast. I had a fruit salad that I didn't finish, and Buffa chugged three different energy drinks: Red Bull, Bomba, and Extreme Energy Shot. Extreme Energy Shot is the first energy drink that I think is good. It's delicious.

Then we went to Hick's to "look at herbs," i.e. jerk off and cause trouble. That was a lot of fun. We went to Benihana's for lunch, during which I spilled my entire water all over the table (not on myself!). I don't know how I did it, but I did. The "vegeterian delight" was pretty good. I drank soy sauce straight. Love that stuff.

We went to Cold Stone, where I got dark chocolate Love It with Twix and Heath Bar in a waffle bowl. It was delicious. The guy behind the counter was totally hitting on me. He gave me the waffle bowl for free and told me he'd get me another one if it wasn't perfect. It was fun.

And then we got back to school and Harrison made me cry.

That's right.

Harrison made me cry.

I was going to go to my locker before the bell rang so I could put my textbook away and he wouldn't let me.

So I forced myself not to cry.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I NEVER CRY.

Actually, I cry all the time. But I don't tell anybody! And I don't cry over things like this!

Actually, I do. I cry over commercials. I cry over songs. I cry over stuffed animals. I cry over lots of things.

BUT STILL.

Why not wake up in great skin?

Oooh, nice one, stalker. Very speedy of you. I suppose you now deserve a post. How unfortunate.

I keep forgetting to tell my friends this, but it's a very pressing (and entertaining, and interesting, and adorable) matter. WE HAVE A RACOON NEST IN OUR ATTIC. I mean, I don't even know if we HAVE an attic; it might just be a crawl space. BUT THERE IS A RACOON NEST IN IT. At first, it freaked me out a lot whenever I heard them crawling around above my head and making their weird chirpy noises, because they sounded like the baby animals in the movie "Evolution." But then I realized that there are little baby racoons living mere feet above my head, so whenever I hear them now, I smile.

They are my friends. My dad is going to trap them and release them in Port Washington. I will miss them.

Florida kicked ass. I'm going to reveal something very personal right now; are you ready? Since you can't answer, I'll continue anyway. I WORE A BIKINI. I hope my loyal readers aren't thinking, "Ew. Oh my god. Ew. Like, ew. Like, CC in a bikini. Ew." Because... I have something more to share. One of the bikinis ["bikini" is probably the weirdest word ever; think about it] I wore was a STRING BIKINI. And, I brought a tankini, but when I put it on one day, I realized I didn't like it. And I realized I didn't like board shorts. The shorts make my torso look very short (which it is), and the tankini made my stomach look gross. Grosser than the bikini did.

I KNOW. YEAH, I KNOW.

Oh my god. "Ten Years Younger" has a new host. I'm so happy! I hated the other host. He was so annoying. Oooh, cute guy looking at him in the soundproof box. OOOOH, he has a Scottish accent. And there's one with a British accent! This is so exciting! There are so many cute guys on this show! I guess before the weird, annoying, stupid host scared them away.

I'm waiting for the dryer repairman. He was supposed to be here by 1:00 p.m. He's LATE. I'm glad. I'm scared of him. And if the place calls, to say he's not coming, then I have to pick up. And that's even scarier.

Now I'm watching "A Haunting." This show is so cool. Except the actors they choose to reinact (is that how you spell it?) the scenes look nothing like the actual people. Oooh, one of them has a Scottish accent! Oh, but see, the actor is really cute, but the real guy has an earring and is all gross. They set me up for such disappointment, it's not fair.

I like the actor, though.

My Celebrity Crush of the Moment is on Jon Heder. I'll copy and paste why off my Kaboodle page, where I put him on my list called "Dream Boys." "John Heder is my celebrity crush of the moment. He's really cute, he's an awesome actor, and he's outliving the, 'Who's Jon Heder? Oh, that guy who played Napoleon Dynamite?' I love his work, I love his look, and I'll bet he's non-imposing. I truly do like him."

Speaking of my Kaboodle, you guys should definitely check it out. Get me some presents. Maybe now, or maybe for my birthday. <http://www.kaboodle.com/swedishphish116>

I want to have a party today but nobody can host it. It's pissing me off. Everything is always at mine/Hayden's house, but neither of us can do it this time, so it's not going to happen.

I like the "Orkin" commercials. The guy looks cuddly.

RELAY FOR LIFE, PEOPLE. SIGN UP FOR MY TEAM. (If, and only if, I like you. Hey, you know what, ask me first. E-mail me: swedishphish116@gmail.com. If I don't like you, I'll make up some bullshit excuse, like, "Oh, we're full." Which is complete bullshit.) DONATE. WE'VE GOT TO GET GOING.

Ooooh, "American Pie 2" is on. YES. Hahahahahahahah. He just glued his hands to his peepee. Hahahahahahahahahah. And now his hands are glued to the porn tape, too. Hahahahahah. I love these movies. I sympathize. Not that I've, you know, ever watched porn, or had a penis.

Dryer man is fifteen minutes late. More or less. He was supposed to be here BY one.

Hahahah, Finch.

Hahahah, Stifler.

Dryer man is here. Should I continue to watch American Pie, right next to the basement door, since he's in the basement? Should I move to the playroom? IT'S SUCH A DILEMMA.

I don't know what to do. I'm scared. Help me.

I don't like wine. That makes me a freak.

Hey, I want to have a cinco de mayo party. With plenty of tequila and margaritas. Ay, ay, ay, ay! Ariba!

Identity theft is COOL.

No, it's not.

Now I'm just blogging words. I suck. Here, I'll put some pictures on of my vacation on Orchid Island. (I don't like to say I was in Florida. Florida sucks. Everyone's like, "Yay, Florida!" And I don't like Florida. It's so mainstream and elderly. Tons of prune juice. I say I was on Orchid Island.)

No, I won't. That takes too much effort.

Dryer man was very nice. I like him.

Hahahahah, American Pie.

Right, I'm done.

Stalker, please

Well, well, well. I do have an hour to kill before Hayden and I go to see "Meet the Robinsons."

Cori and I got back from Florida Thursday. We pretty much just

HAHAHAH. GOT YOU, DIDN'T I?

I am def-jam-toe-jam (I don't know what it means, either) not going to post until I get the name of my stalker! Or at least another comment or two.

Mental Prostitution

Did I post this one already? I definitely might have. But excuse me. I'm exhausted. The show opens Friday. Tech Week is giving me AIDS, that's how much it sucks. I was right in my prediction: musical tech week is a lot tougher than drama tech week.

SO EVERYBODY CAN COME TO THE SHOWS:
TICKETS ARE $5 IN ADVANCE, $8 AT THE DOOR
FRIDAY AND SATURDAY'S SHOWS START AT 8:00 P.M.
SUNDAY'S SHOW STARTS AT 3:00 P.M.
WE'RE COLLECTING DONATIONS FOR THE PAJAMA PROJECT, AN ORGANIZATION THAT SUPPLIES FOSTER CHILDREN WITH THE NECESSITIES THEY MAY HAVE LEFT AT HOME IF THEY WERE TAKEN OUT IN AN EMERGENCY SITUATION. WE'RE COLLECTING BEDTIME NECESSITIES, SUCH AS PAJAMAS, TOOTHBRUSHES, TEDDY BEARS, ETC.
THANK YOU.

I love this line so, so much. It's by Say Anything; the picture is of Corinne's window.

I'm tired now. Later.