More mother stories, secret names, and P Diddy, not in that order of course :)

"Jessie an Eliza were best friendddddddddxdddddddddddd

That's how far I got before I had to switch to mom's laptop. Why? Because I have lovely moments where I resemble a stereotypical blonde with red hair. (That fragment of a sentence didn't make sense to me, either)

All day the "D" key on my laptop had been a tad on the frustrating side. It wouldn't work, I would just be minding my own business facebooking a wonderful person "la la la I'm starting to become aicte (addicted) to their music...huh???" Because the letter D was no where to be found. It was lost! But I checked the lost and found and snagged it back. I just had to fiddle with it for a while and it would temporarily work.

Later, it became much more of a hassle. The reason why I'm leaving you in suspense and building it up so much is because it's not that great and I'm worried my late Sunday night/early Monday morning post won't be appreciated to its full, potential value.

So the stereotypical blonde move I pulled was repeatedly trying to press the key in hopes that I will just crush whatever crumb was beneath it, if that was even the problem in the first place. As you can guess, it didn't work, and I now have a D key separated from its respective keyboard. I've already named it P Diddy. I enjoy naming inanimate objects and pretending they have feelings. :) P Diddy says hi, or rather "yo homies". That was mean of me, sorry. :(

BUT what I was originally typing was the first thing that mom said to me after her "meditation", aka her snorefest. She scares the cat she snores so loud, and she's deaf!

Mom was telling me about how I have so many friends, and I had to disagree with her saying "But I've got quality friends, which is 54321 (yay numbers that are in order) better." She then preceded to tell me about how when Jessie was little mom would regularly see her best friend Eliza over at the house. Mom likes to talk about Jessie, and so do I. I feel bad when people talk negatively about their siblings and I proudly boast about my sister who's DA BOMB! Half-sister, whatever, same difference. :) When I told her I was writing a paper on her about inspiration she replied "Aww you think I'm inspiration? I always believed I was expiration." and then wrapped me in lots of hugs. Good story, Sara. Thanks, Sara.

Sara says it's fun to talk in the 3rd person, but also confusing, so she'll stop.

Mom never ceases to amuse me. (I stopped) The other day when me and dad were playing, or more rather I was completely dominating dad at, Disney Trivia (yes, you can go shush now) we saw the forgotten box of the Wild Thornberrys game (another game from ten years ago) and concluded that mom now looks like Eliza (whoa! Weird how there are two Eliza's posted in this entry...) because she has braces, glasses, has recently been wearing her hair in these funny little pig tail things, and has the over-all gawkyness that Eliza always posesses. She was really hot in that episode where she takes off her glasses and went swimming in the waterfall, though. haha just kiddding...sort of.

By the way I don't think all pig tails are funny. :)

I got completely sidetracked from my original idea. Mom was telling me about how Jessie and Eliza were such good friends, and she said this:

"Jessie and Eliza were best friends, and would act really silly together. They would come over here and draw what their poops look like...I still have them."

There are many points I would like to make about this.

1) What the hell, mom?
2) Why'd you have to embarrass your daughter like that? I was going to put that as my favorite quotes because it's so funny, but I realized Jessie now has facebook and I'd regret ruining her self-esteem. No one deserves to have a low self-esteem. :(
3) I get that you're a mom and you just want to keep all the memories of your child's youth that you can, but that's going a little too far. Actually, it's not just a little, it's plain creepy.

My mom is soooo awesome. :) I loves her oodles! And I'm not just saying that because she's easy to make fun of. haha

I fear that I'm going to misplace P Diddy and won't be able to put him back together again, like Humpty (haha hump) Dumpty.

I was almost positive I had a higher purpose for writing this blog besides talking about crap (literally), but I can't seem to think of it. The cause was probably because I haven't written in a while, and I remember hearing the same wonderful person mentioned above say about another amazing soul "He hasn't written a blog in 2 weeks!" and sub-consciously got self-conscious (haha, those words are very similar) of how long I'm allowed to wait before posting new entries. So here I am, writing aimlessly in hopes of getting smacked in the face with inspiration. Well, at least the being inspired part.

I wrote a poem a little while ago, and it's horrible. I dislike it greatly, but I'm trying to get over my fear of showing people my writing, so here we go. I wish I could write non-depressing things. :(

JUST KIDDING! I forgot I'm on mom's laptop, not mine, so that'll just have to wait a while longer. :) I'm trying to get over some other fears, too, like getting my picture taken. And being around people I don't know with no friends to comfort me. And fire. And bikes. haha, someone I love told me he was going to help me get over that and then preceded in breaking his foot and couldn't bike. That didn't give away who it was or anything...

I'm not sure who minds being named in blogs and who doesn't, so I've been referring to everyone by clever nicknames. P Diddy the D key's real name is indeed P Diddy, though.

OH! I remember why I wanted to write this! Good thing I just kept rambling until I recalled that fateful Thursday that I knew I wanted to inform all you dudes and dudettes about.

I shadowed at the New School with an amazing soul! (Now you can figure out two people with said clever nicknames haha). It's awesome! I won't go into too much detail, because that will either induce you guys with sadness that I won't be here at KHS next year or will bore you to no end, but I did tell a couple supah cool peeps I might go there the rest of this year and just take IB music and Chamber Choir. I've thought about it and decided I don't want to hassle my parents into driving me so much. Too bad I only have an hour on my permit... haha

It's so amazing there, and it's actually making me reconsider the college dilemma. I think I might want to go right out of high school, since I'll be going there next year and college's will have to actually look at my application since they do things differently there than most other schools. I'd have a better chance at getting in than if my slacker life had led me down the course I was going. (haha, that's a pun, like course as in school. That was lame...) You guys don't have to believe the facts if you don't want to, 'cause we're all entitled to our own opinion, but I love it and am so excited to attend such a fabulastic school! Fabulastic sounds like elastic.

Hmm, I have to wake up in 4 hours so I can get to school early. I'm gonna head to bed (rhyme!). G'night everyone!

Damn it I just realized I missed 11:11. Oh well, there's hope in a little less than 10 hours...

Humorous mothers and sexual pacts, not together you pervs (I was thinking the same thing [and lots of brackets (really long title {sorry})])

So me and mom went to Biddeford Crossing last night, to buy Spirit Week clothes and bond, like every child does on a Saturday night, right guys? While we were in Target we went to the checkout and started placing our items on the mini conveyor belt (those always looked really cool to work!) and mom starts to make small talk with the cashier before telling her, and every other unfortunate soul we bumped into that evening, about this whole fiasco with one of her friends concerning her car. I gave the girl, who happened to be named Sarah (not quite as awesome as Sara, though) an apologetic look. Once mom was done ranting to a complete stranger, she made a horrible joke. It was so bad I almost laughed. Underneath the word "Sarah" on her name tag it said "Target", and mom was like "Hello, Target!", thinking that it was a silly name that no one would ever have, and Sarah stood there awkwardly and explained "My sister's last name is Targett." "Oh...well nice meeting you, Sarah." And we rushed out of there as fast as we could.

We used dad's car, and mom couldn't stop complaining about how she wasn't used to it and that was the reason it would take her several minutes to unlock the car while I was like "Mom! Maine is colder outside than inside stores with hot dogs!" Which made her giggle that really funny laugh that she does when I say something that's not amusing in the slightest but she believes it is and she loses her concentration and forgets what she's doing. One time it took us four full minutes for her to unlock it. Mom's really dependable like that.

Oh right, the hot dog story. While we were still inside and not freezing our bootylicious asses off (eww I shouldn't have mentioned mom in that sentence. Bad mental images! Sorry that I just poisoned you guys...), her stomach growled.

Mom: I want a hot dog.
Me: You always want a hot dog.
Mom: That's because I crave real food.
Me: Because pig fat surrounded by synthetic casing is definitely real.
Mom: Oh, right. Maybe I'll get two to make up for it.

Awesome, Mom...

Then at Panera we were eating dinner (it was more like a snack for me because the only thing I could eat there were the fruit cups) and the entire time there was this guy with gray hair and glasses diligently working on his laptop with several charts strewn upon his table. He seemed really boring, so I barely payed any attention to him at all. Incidentally, this story is about him and I can recall all these pointless, unnecessary details. (I'd be a super good stalker, if anybody needs one) He was sitting next to the glass near the door, so when me and mom left the building (haha, we're both Elvis in disguise. Oh the surprises 21st century living presents us with) she turned left and was right next to him (I said both left and right in that sentence haha), the only thing between them being the glass. She waved, and then left before he noticed. It was so sketchy, and had me laughing hysterically. Apparently she knows him because he's an orthodontist, which is super random seeing as he's not mom's. You kinda had to be there, to see her funny-looking hair flying and that puffy, blue jacket she wears. That's a joke in itself. haha I love my mommy. :)

You know when you post a comment, and you have to type some letters as a security precaution? They usually look like wetgf (that was completely random, but looking back those were perfectly chosen letters haha the gutter is full with my mind) or spell out some completely random word. What I've been wondering about is that little sign next to the box. What the hell is a handicap symbol doing there? Does anyone know what that means? Or is someone clever trying to humor me and make inappropriate wheelchair jokes at the same time? Whatever it is, it's hilarious.

Hearts are wonderful. So are hugs, but that doesn't have to do with my nomadic attention span. There's a heart in the food I'm eating (I'm so scandalous, I eat and blog at the same time, I'm underage! [that was a crappy attempt at humor, don't laugh at that]), and now I think I don't want to eat it. Which is weirder, to eat a heart or to leave leftover food when you're still hungry because of a teenage girlish symbol? In case you were wondering, I used to be a middle-aged man, but the technology they have these days is amazing. It can really work wonders on your liver spots and unwanted appendages.

My hunger won, the heart is gone. And now I'm really sad! T___T The poor heart, I didn't even realize what I was doing. (Wow that sounded super serious, go away Sunday-induced thoughts!) I think because I turned the plate so it faced in a different direction and I couldn't see it clearly.

Grr I dislike Sundays, because you spend the whole day dreading tomorrow, which makes it impossible to enjoy the day off from torture-school. Today isn't as bad because there's a chance tomorrow will be a snow day (dad says I shouldn't even set my alarm. =) [hah! You thought that was the ending parenthesis when it was actually a smiley (let's make this even more confusing [I can't count this high (or this high)])]) (that looked really cool), even if a part of me doesn't want it to be because I want to dress up as Ryan Ross and go to air band. (You just had to go back and read that because my parenthesis made you forget what the sentence was about. [Now you're going to have to do it again (sucker [WOW that sounds like suck her (Let's make a pact to be as sexual as possible [no pics])])]) I'm so excited to have an excuse to wear crazy make-up. Thank God for supremely metro Ryan. (That's not stating he's better than Brendon [this is even funner than awkward conversations (I lost count again [damn it (I wonder how many of you guys are going to try and see if I've messed up)])]) I've barely thought about hippie day, because since my ancient mother was, and still thinks of herself as, a hippie, she can't stop telling me about how different they really are than the stereotype of them is. She's like "We wore peasant shirts..." I have no idea what that is and have no intention of finding out, so I just pushed it to the back of my mind.

This is really pathetic and un-lazy-like (haha, it sounds like lady-like [I stole this idea from someone (you know him {why don't I ever use this thing? (it's such a loner)})]) of me, but I went downstairs and got some more food to arrange in a heart shape. This time I'm going to remember not to eat it.

3 minutes later

R.I.P. Heart-shaped bean meal. I miss you, even though you're inside me (that's so what she said! [sexual pact (another opportunity to do this)])