thinking for yourself.

I can't stand people who incapable of forming their own opinions.

Whenever I have a conversation with someone like that, I get this overwhelming sense that I'm talking to myself.

Me: Do you watch The Office?
Human: Yeah! 
Me: You know the new guy? Will Ferell? I don't think he'll be as good as Steve Carell.
Human: I agree totally!

30 minutes later: 
Another Human: My god, I LOVE the new guy on The Office!
Human: I know right? Isn't he awesome?
Me: o.O

Please have your own ideas on things.
Going with the general opinion doesn't make you seem informed. It makes you look like a follower who doesn't know any better.

I would rather have talk to a person who has radically different views than me, than someone who agrees with everything I say.
It gets tedious after a while. 

perfume.

Ladies, overdosing on perfume isn't cool.
It doesn't make you smell like roses, but like the air freshener in public bathrooms.


Orchestra concert tonight. Let's hope I don't fall of the stage or drop my music like last time.
....
Let's leave it at that. =]

singing toothbrushes.

Some people associate different songs with different memories at various points of their lives.
You might have a special song you relate to camp. Or your ex. Or your best friend who moved to Russia two years ago. Or your pet rabbit.

But I'm not one of those people who do that. But there's only one song that sticks out.
And that is "Walk Away" by Kelly Clarkson. Random, right?
No. That was the song that was played by my singing toothbrush I got when I was around eight. It was when they were super popular, and everyone had them. Every time you brushed your teeth, it would play the song programmed into the toothbrush and how loud it was depends on hard you pressed down.

So I saw an ad in some magazine, and I was immediately consumed by this desire to get one of those. I knew the only way I would get my parents to buy me this amazing thing was if I used my current Disney Princess themed one until the blue indicators wore out.

So I brushed.
And brushed.
And brushed.
I brushed eleven times a day.
I. Wanted. A. Singing. Toothbrush.

Finally, my parents noticed my new fanatic wear-out-my-current-toothbrush attitude. Even though they were delighted to see their daughter finally caring about her teeth, they were slightly worried.

So they decided to fulfill my dream and buy me one. It was a random grab--one-off-the-shelf-and-pay-and-leave choice.
And the song was Walk Away by Kelly Clarkson.

Sure, the experience was amazing the first few times.
Each time I brushed, my pink brush would blast the song.
I loved it.

But then, a few hundred times later, the song started getting old. I knew all the lyrics. I didn't want to hear the same song, with the same tune, every single morning.

Now whenever I hear that song, I want to throw something at a wall. No, seriously.

I reccommend you don't buy them, unless if you really, really, really love the song you're getting. <3 Fi

swimming sucks.

I'm back from my first swim practice. I'm out of shape. I gained five pounds over the summer. I can barely move right now. I just ate three helpings of food.

 To make a long story short, I simply died.

 I even wrote a poem about it. Ready?

Swimming Sucks.

Looking forward for this day

For a while now

Molded into my mind like clay

September 10th, couldn't forget it somehow

From five-thirty to eight

My first swim practice would commence

I waited at home, just so I wouldn't be late

When I walked in, I should of used my common sense

I haven't exercised for a while

I gained a few pounds to top it off

I should of ran right out of there with a smile

But instead I sat down with my friends, without an itch or a nervous cough

But as the coaches started talking about how hard it would be

I should have realized right there

This isn't where I belonged. Why didn't I see?

We started and immediately everyone started started to share

how much it hurt

how it ached

But we were all alert

Because the coach wouldn't be shaked

by our pleas of help

Work harder, train harder, breathe less

But our arms felt like kelp

An hour left, God bless

Now it's finally over 

I'm home now

But unless I find a four leaf clover

I shall have to plow

Through a morning practice tomorrow

Waking up bright and early at five a.m.
Pancakes, anyone?

Gotta run. I have a FIVE IN THE MORNING practice to wake up to. </3 Fi

welcoming the year with sweaty arms

My first day of school was hot, disgusting, and gross. I dressed smart and wore shorts. Applaud me. Please. A breakdown of my day...

7:50am: Homeroom && English. I was in the awkward situation where everyone knows one another but you. Everyone was discussing what they did over the summer. Exotic places they visited. I stayed at home. When I realized there were assigned seats, I gave a huge thank you to nobody in particular.

WhoKnowsWhen: An assembly. In which the entire grade was required to sit through another attack of rules for the school year. No texting in the bathroom. No wearing slutty clothing. No chewing gum and sticking it on the bottom of the desks. No talking in the hallways. No committing suicide in Algebra.

8:56am: Physical Ed. Health. Fitness. Whatever you call it, I have it second period. For the entire duration of 45 minutes, we sat in a sweltering hot gym, listening to an overly peppy teacher explain the new rules. But we weren't fooled. She was sweating too.


9:45am: History. I had one of those moments where you walk into a class, look around, then just scream in your head "OH. SHIT." Yep.