happyhappy

Took a two hour nap. Ate an undeniably unhealthy hamburger. Had an apple. Finished my anatphys homework. Two classes left. Thinking about drinking a monster. Life feels pretty good.

back to school

fuck this.

I’m gonna be a professional hobo when I grow up.

dreams (significance of) (teeth)

Last night I dreamed that my teeth were falling out. It was the second or third dream of that sort that I’ve had recently. Last time I had this dream, it was horrifying because it wasn’t supposed to happen and I didn’t know why it was. The one before that, I think, it didn’t matter because every time a tooth would fall out, there would already be another one in its place. This time I wasn’t growing new teeth, but I’d gone to the doctor–who, incidentally, was my mother, who in real life is not a doctor–and she’d said that it was a normal disorder that she could fix. I didn’t like all my teeth falling out–I was worried about how it looked–but I was relieved that she could fix it. I think I assumed that meant she could make my teeth grow back too. So when I woke up this morning I looked up the meaning of my dream (even though I generally don’t believe that dreams mean anything) because I figured it could at least be entertaining.

Apparently, falling teeth dreams are actually quite common. And the explanations actually make a little bit of sense, but I firmly believe that that’s just because they cover worries that everyone has. I refuse to believe that dreams have any significance, but on the other hand. Repeating themes are repeating. They seem possibly important.

new year’s eve

I haven’t checked, but I’m guessing today’s a popular day for bloggers. Holiday (party), resolution, retrospection. My hands are too cold to type. I’m wearing my brother’s gloves again. It’s not even that cold. Now that I’ve digressed. Let’s go back to the topic of the day. New year and last year.

So this year. I suppose this year’s good more or less outweighed the bad. Have I gained anything this year? Well, weight. (Speaking of which, I have a whole other post about that that I need to think and type up, but later.) Sorry, that’s so unsentimental and kind of false. I’m bad at being optimistic or whatever, though, even when it’s more true than cynicism. (Look at my Thanksgiving post to discover this a blatant lie. Whatever. I’m usually bad at sentimentalism.) So I guess this year has been a time of depressing but ultimately useful self-discovery. I’ve learned things about myself and my limits (which are, apparently, a lot closer than I thought they were) but I don’t think I’ve actually done anything. I got into a good school, I guess, but I don’t feel like that counts, although it certainly did take a large part of the year.

Next year. Next year I hope I’ll actually accomplish something real, although I don’t know what that means. I haven’t made New Year’s resolutions since elementary school, if  I even did then. I kind of want to make the typical girl resolutions, to be honest–get in shape, etc, but I know they’re not going to happen, especially at school. I kind of want to make a writing related one, because I don’t write enough, but I wish I did, but I’m afraid it’s not going to make a difference.

Which says a lot about me, probably. I guess I’m afraid of failure. But what am I supposed to do about that?

Anyway, I’m thinking about doing an easy writing resolution anyway, to write at least 100 words a day, which is hardly anything, but maybe it’ll help me. What do you think?

Also, give me some ideas–what are your New Year’s resolutions?

ps:
I don’t understand firefox’s spellcheck.

the breakfast club

So yesterday, I watched The Breakfast Club for the first time. I’ve heard a lot of good things about it (of course), and it was, I suppose, more or less a decent movie, but honestly I found it mostly rather disappointing.

The characters themselves, I think, were the biggest disappointment. Superficially, I suppose they were interesting–insecure, maladjusted, etc, etc (in other words: teenagers), but in the end, none of them were really anything special. Allison, the “basket case,” came across too strongly, I think. I felt like she was too emphatically the “weirdo” and nothing else, particularly with her mannerisms, and also, her end was ridiculous. Look! She’s pretty like a normal girl now! And now she gets the jock because that’s what weird antisocial girls actually secretly want! And he could never have wanted her if she looked weird! Fuck that shit, man. I thought she was hot before she looked like Claire’s sister or whatever. And like, did they really learn their lesson about like, being different but the same or whatever the fuck they figured out if that was her ending? What the fuck.

The jock, though, Andrew. I have to admit, he was my favorite. He was, I think, the only remotely complex character in the entire movie, even if he was a dumbass about girls. But, hey, different strokes for different folks, right? I can forgive that. But like, the point is, sometimes he meant well and sometimes he didn’t, and sometimes he was realistic and sometimes he wanted to dream a little. He thought about shit he did and figured things out from it, even though he probably didn’t do anything about what he figured out.

Claire just bored the hell out of me, although I suppose theoretically there wasn’t anything wrong with her characterization, except she just wasn’t a very likable character, although her realism–what the other characters called her bitchiness–did help her case a little for me. But–though she was the only character that said otherwise–I just couldn’t see her becoming any more than another rich housewife, and like. Oh, look, you got the bad boy with the dark past. Good for you. He’s going to beat the shit out you, physically or emotionally, I don’t know, but it’s going to happen. Good luck with that.

Speaking of whom, John just depressed me. The ending was hopeful for him, I guess, but, well. I’m cynical.

And I just felt bad for Brian. The underdog just never gets the girl, does he? You have to be either tragic or athletic. Preferably both.

I don’t know, now that I’ve written everything out, it seems like there wasn’t much really wrong with the movie itself–more my personal perspective–but fuck it. I stand by my original statements. That was fucking disappointing. I’ll add a qualifier though: I probably expected too much from Another Teen Movie.

mall madness

Today I went and got all the post-Christmas presents I needed to get to distribute to people after winter break. The staff in Hot Topic (one of whom was so tiny, oh my god, I just wanted to feed him) was oddly cheerful, which made me want to hug them until I realized that at least half of them were probably just high. And then I wanted to hug them anyway. I think my favorite there was the tiny girl with the tiny girly boyfriend (he was shorter than I am, and she was shorter than him). Or possibly the two wanna-be boys (wanna-be what, I’m not certain. Scene, maybe, a little punk) who shoved at each other and called each other faggots (not behavior I condone, but they were so stupid and teenaged, I just wanted to hug them too.) One of them said he wanted the bright pink studded belt (which was what started the name-calling in the first place) and then he asked me if I thought it was a hot belt. I agreed. It was, indeed, a hot belt. Also, he had gloriously curly hair.  His friend disagreed. About the belt, I mean. I don’t know how he felt about his friend’s hair. I got a boy’s belt though, that’s too big for me, with guns and handcuffs and explosives etc on it. It makes me happy.

And then my dad made me drive home, but I nearly killed us twice in about ten minutes, and the second time he gave up and we switched places. I don’t like driving, although I swear I didn’t try to kill us on purpose.

little brother, Peter Pan

Today I asked my little brother, who we shall henceforth refer to as “BB,” if he wanted to grow up. The following exchange ensued:

BB: Yeah…
Chuck: Why?
BB: Everyone has to!
Chuck: But do you want to?
BB: I don’t know yet.
Chuck: What about Peter Pan? He doesn’t have to grow up.
BB: Yeah…but I don’t want to be Peter Pan.
Chuck: Why not?
BB: Because I hate flying.

I approve of his wariness of growing up. Flying, however, should be everybody’s dream.

Merry Christmas!

You know what should exist? A macro of Robert Pattison/Edward Cullen with a Santa hat that says HE SEES YOU WHEN YOU’RE SLEEPING. Please tell me if this does, in fact, exist.

retrospect

So what’s weird is when I go back and look at old posts and I get this feeling like–I wrote that? Technically, I remember writing these things, but when I read it, it just feels awfully distant, like I’m reading someone else’s thoughts. I mean, it’s not a thing, like I think it’s too much or not enough to be my thoughts. It just doesn’t feel attached to me.  I don’t know what that means.

today i’ve seen

two middle-aged women with desperately empty shopping carts laughing hysterically in the middle of sam’s club
and
a barely teenaged boy leading grandfather by the arm explaining in low murmuring words I can’t understand, but he’s not so helpless, neither of them; he buys grandson a soda and reminds him to put on his jacket.