Wayyyy Past My Bedtime

I like saying goodbye to my day by 8PM (Uh, no I don't have a life.).  Right now it's 1:04.  In the morning.  It's tomorrow.  Today.  I blame it on homework.  It's taking over my life.  One day, I swear, someone will find me buried under a pile of books, but it will be too late by then.

I barely had time to eat this week.  At night, I dream about failed math tests.  A few days ago, I was so exhausted, that I fell asleep on the rug while whimpering about my GPA. That's what I was told by witnesses.  I don't really remember the details.  I do remember waking up to my brother asking if I was alive.  I look forward to an afterlife that doesn't involve deadlines.

I can barely look at this computer screen.  I hate coffee, but I drank more of it than any human being should.  Yet, I am nodding over the keyboard.  This can't do because the schoolwork is just not finished.

I should probably get back to it now, and hope that my teachers are in a better mood than my new hero.

I'm Too Sleepy to Think Up a Clever Title...

Adolescence has had a reverse effect on me.  I'm pretty sure it was supposed to boost my interest in appearance, popularity, and boys.  Instead I live in old sweats and jeans, my mother literally rejoices when I have any sort of social outing, and  it just occurred to me the other day, that, if anything, I like boys less than I did when I was nine.  I'm not completely sure why, but ever since I almost killed myself falling in love when I was thirteen, I haven't really felt any butterflies over a guy for a long time.  Even in France.

But, dear me, old Hollywood actors make me feel dreamy.

It started when I first watched Mary Poppins.  I was four, maybe five, so it was really quite platonic, but I figured that when I got married, my Prince Charming had to look like Dick Van Dyke.

Showered, of course.

Stupid Mary was totally in the way, though.

Then a few years back, I watched Giant, and, besides crying my eyeballs out and being depressed for days because of the injustices of the world, I fell madly in love with James Dean.

And I still am.

I really felt his pain.  Being brilliant, misunderstood, and kind of weird is annoying at first, then terribly lonely. Add unrequited love to the mix, and you're bound to die young.  Of course, this didn't quite occur to me when I was twelve, but I still felt his pain. In my innocent twelve year old way.

When I first saw James Stewart in It's a Wonderful Life, I thought  he was kind of ugly.  Then, I saw him Rear Window.  I truly believe age did wonderful things to him.

'Course, Grace Kelly is the more impressive of the two.

Last summer, I watched To Kill a Mockingbird for the first time.   Atticus Finch Gregory Peck is my soulmate.

Sigh...

Except that he's dead. 

I like spring weather and croissants

March is usually a suckish month for me.  Spring is still too long away, but winter is long gone, you start to feel that time is just slipping between your fingers (well, maybe that's just me), I'm one year closer to college, blah blah blah.

This year, I'm actually excited about March, for two main reasons. 

1. Hate Month is over.  Waaay too much bitterness.  Even for me.  And no more pink, praise the Lord.

2.  I get to go to Paris and Germany!!!!!  Yay me!

I was supposed to go in October, but I didn't (I would tell you why, but I'm too lazy to.  You still love me.).  I was kind of disappointed, but I thought I could handle it because I knew I would be able to go later anyway.  So I dealt with it like the mature young lady that I am.  That night I dreamed that I was in a room full of croissants.  I would reach for one, but it would float away before I could catch it.  I kept trying to get one, but every single time they kept flying away from me.

"Please," I would say, "I just want one."

No luck.

When I woke up, I just thought, whoa.  It wasn't until I started doing my schoolwork, and my brain resurrected, that I realized what the freak?!  

I'm not really alive until noon.  

Randomness from the Random Queen's sister

I'm too sleepy to write a coherent post.

1.  I got a Blogger update.  It's cool.  And silver.  I like silver.  It has nice buttons or whatever.  I like the nice buttons or whatever too.  I feel sophisticated.  I like feeling sophisticated (unless it involves doing my hair.).  I like my updated Blogger dashboard.

2.  Golly, Kurt Cobain looks so much better blonde.  And Kurt Cobain is pretty near the top of my list of attractive rockers.  Courtney Love was pretty too.  Please people, plastic surgery is not the solution to you emotional problems!

3.  I saw the coolest bug today!  It was the cutest caterpillar ever! I wanted to hug it to my chest, except its adorable fuzzines would burn the skin off my body.

 So I did not hug it.  I just looked at it.  Which was not too easy to do, because it was getting dark, and I forgot to put my glasses on...

3.  ...Which brings me to I forget EVERYTHING.  Yes, I forget my math homework.  I forget the capital of Georgia, I forget dates, I forget to put my iPod away (four little munchkins with itchy little munchkin fingers... need I say more?), I forget where I put, oh, I don't know, everything I friggin' own.  The only stuff I remember is deemed useless.  Like last Thanksgiving, when my cousins Mark, a photographer, and Rosie, a lawyer, came.  We were driving them home from the airport, and we pass by this grocery store chain called H-E-B.

"Rosie look!" Mark says, "They have a place called Heb!"

"It's H-E-B, Mark," says Rosie.

"Heb sounds cool.  Ooh, Heeb sounds better!"

"You can't call it Heeb, Mark," says Rosie, "That's like calling Vons Vans."

"H-E-B is stupid.  Heeb is awesome."

So we ended up going to Heebs H-E-B and you would have thought we were going on a field trip!  We lost Mark every five minutes.  We found him talking to this lady passing out free samples.

"So you're getting married this Saturday?" he asks Sample Lady.

"Uhu."

"So do you have a photgrapher?"

He honest to goodness asked her that.

"Oh God," said Rosie, pulling me away.

Ahh, that was a good Thanksgiving. Twelve people were crammed into our tiny house, and I had to use my laptop to watch The Great Gatsby because the TV was hogged, of course, and I ate too much, but I always eat too much for Thanksgiving.

It was awesome, man.

So now I guess this post is long enough.  Right?  God, I hope so.

Well, it's not like I went blonde!!

Some people are identified by a certain ability, or a character trait, or their appearance.

I fall into the later category.

People know and recognize me by my hair. Yeah, they remember my personality, or my jokes sometimes, or the stupid things I do. But if not for my insane intense locks, I'm pretty sure they would not remember me the same way.

Not so anymore, not so.

I went and straightened it all.

Yes I did, world, yes I did.

Of course, I have done it before, with an iron and a blow drier. But this time, I actually, really, honest to goodness, almost forever permanently did it. Brazilian Keratin and 6 1/2 hours in the salon (it's a good thing I love my stylist) reduced me from a lion to a Maltese. I am not kidding.

This is what I used to look like

These are the intelligent, powerful, independent women I used to identify with

Not anymore, dear readers.

Now I am one of them.

What's wrong with her lips???

Notice how they all look the same?

Oh God. Now I can shop and gossip and flirt and all the other stuff I hate and condemn with other girls my age.

There is only one word to describe me now.

SELLOUT.

Yes, because here's the best part.

I like how my hair turned out. I like not having to use half a bottle of conditioner, and spend thirty minutes combing out my hair every morning (you better know I'm exaggerating), I like being able to wake up in the morning and seeing my face, not the massive main on my head. I like being able to go outside in this wretched weather, and not have to worry that I will end up resembling Einstein if I do. I like cutting how much product I use in my hair by 99%.

Heck, I think I love my new hair. Not as much as my curls, but I like change. A lot, by the way, as long as it doesn't affect the course of my life. And I doubt this will. If it does, at least it will make a good post, right?! Right?!?

Oh, whatever. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts (three months, I was told). I stress too much. For once, I'm going to chill, and be okay with being normal like everybody else. I will relax.

Let's see how long that lasts.

-Maria T.

Oh, what could have been...

Ever since she was three my sister has wanted a turtle. And ever since she was three, my sister has had to wait for the baby of the time to grow up, because turtles carry salmonella, and salmonella is dangerous especially to babies who put anything and everything in their mouths, so long it fits (and trust me, a lot fits).


My sister is the second of six kiddos. Once a baby turned two, it was too late, she had to wait another couple of years because there was already another bundle of sunshine on the way. This happened 1, 2, 3 times, because when baby number five turned four, God decided he wasn't finished yet, and David made six. So that's a few more years to wait for that darn turtle.


Every once in a while, when Sofi's angry, she pulls out the broke turtle dream.


"You promised I would have a turtle! You promised! I do everything you ask, and get nothing back! And I can't take it any longer, I'm moving to Denver!"


She hasn't yet, by the way, put she's threatened us with that one since she was six.


Anyways, my sister's temper tantrums are not the subject of this post. We were talking about the turtle.


So, as I was saying, she's wanted on for a very long time. Imagine my surprise when I found one fore her yesterday! I big beautiful snapping turtle!



I was riding my bike, and I heard my dog barking at it, and I didn't know what it was, so I went and checked and it was sooooo cute! And I saved its life!

Isn't it adorable!



Honestly, I was already imagining my life with my brand new pet, and playing with it, and giving it baths, and painting its fingernails- er, claws- purple, and reading it stores, and putting it to bed! And I had already named it (Godiva, after a turtle in a book I read) when my mom asked me what I was going to do with it.


"I'm keeping it!"


And my mom asked me in very motherly terms if I had suffered from amnesia the past twelve years of my life.


But if there's anything I like more than keeping, it's giving. And I say that with all honesty. I could hardly wait to give it to her. She was actually at a meeting (yeah, she works) so I had to wait four hours for her to get back. Four hours. I was torturous.


When she finally got home you know what she decided? After barely looking at it you know what she decided?


She decided to return it to it's natural habitat.


What the heck?!


Since when is she the mature one?! That was totally my line, that's always been my line, and I threw it to the wind to make her happy!!


Yeah, yeah, it was the right thing to do, and the turtle was kind of vicious, and it did have inch long claws, and it was trying to escape, and it did look like she hated our guts, blah blah blah.


So now, Godiva the turtle is off in the wild somewhere, hopefully reunited with her turtle family, hopefully not ripped apart by a coyote.


So that was what happened. I learned that my sister is an ungrateful wretch more mature than I will ever be, and that turtles stink, man! They really smell awful.


So that was my good deed of the month, so now you guys know that I am officially not doing anything nice for a while. So don't ask any favors, or I'll move to Denver.

Let's be friends! I think...

I've been lying about myself the whole time.

Oh, the shame, the guilt, the pain, the weight on my shoulders that I now lift off my back with my confession.

That's an exaggeration, of course.

But I've been thinking that you might have gotten the impression that my only joy in life is sarcasm. And it is. I mean it's not. I mean it's one of them, but it's not on the top of my list. Purell is. Purell makes me happier than mocking people. Really. I mean it.

So that you can get to know me better, I present you:

Stuff about me that you should know:

Might as well start with my greatest joys in life.

My greatest joys in life (in no real order)


1. Prayer (bet you wouldn't have guessed that, huh?)

2. God. (Maybe that should have come first?)

3. Croissants.

4. My siblings

5. Books.

6. Philosophy

7. My family

8. Sarcasm (I said top, I did!)

9. Stationary

10. Painting

11. Old books

12. Stationary

13. Purell

14. Spending time with my mom

15. Feeling that I'm making a difference in this world. And not by reducing the number of croissants in existence, mind you


Which brings me to:


Stuff I'm into:


1. Philosophy

2. Theology

3. Visual Arts

3. Art History

4. Music

5. Pick and choose vegetarianism (Thank you, Kevin.)

6. Nail Polish

7. Activism (yup, the cool kind where you picket and march.)

8. Politics

9. Jewelery

10. I ran out. Sorry

11. Which reminds me of: A cure for my ADD

Which brings me to:

My favorite color is red

I really like lying face down in the grass and smelling it's lovely, sweet smell.

I like reading poetry.

While eating apples.

And I cry more than I would like to admit.

I wish there would be a Renaissance revival. That would be so cool.

I like tie dye t-shirts. Strike 154 against me. Or for me. For me, I'm proud.

I hate Valentine's Day. I should protest that. Hmm...

I have four brothers. And Sofi. A sister obviously. That makes six, and I'm hoping, praying, wishing seven soon. Did you know that?

I'm currently organizing my inbox, and it's sooooo time consuming. It's driving my po little head crazyyy.

I like flowers. They smell nice. I like to stick them in my hair.

Oh, God. If I weren't such a bitter person, I would think I was this guy.

My hair looks like that 99.9% of the time, and I do play the guitar, but it doesn't have stickers promoting drug usage.

So I'm good.

Im sleepy and stupid

Let me establish that I haven't posted anything for a few days because I'm afraid that I might pick a subject that will cause my cobloggers to riot step on some people's toes.

Originally I was going to write about this example of proof against evolution. But since some people might take offence to anything said against the Twilight Series, I decided not to. I'm not really in the mood to deal with angry fangirls. (Don't despair, I'll tackle Twilight later ; )

Since I have no better ideas (due to lack of brain function due to lack of sleep), than making fun of a crazy lady that posts videos on the internet, and since I don't want to deal with the consequences of making Twilight fangirls angry, I'll let you watch the video and make fun of her yourself. Then I'll find something to write about once my brain decides to wake up and do its job.

Goodnight (even though its only 6:30...)