Sunday, May 27, 2012

Alive.

Am I really?

Hi guys. Long time no see. Not going to bother checking to see just how long... it's just been a really long time. Close enough.

Next year (well, technically this year in September) we're in grade twelve. Final year. Jason made vice pres of StuCo; there is no possible combination of words that can describe how proud I am. I can't even convey it physically. It's just... ajals;dgjoiwerojag Lauckerface you work so hard and you fucking deserve to be where you are right now.

That happens a lot. The not-being-able-to-express-things thing. I need to work on my communication. I get those marks off tests all the time. Especially Bio.

Anyway. Almost summer. Holy crap it's June in two/three days (because it's 11:30 PM and it will be two days soon, so I'm just going to say two days). I still feel like I haven't been in grade eleven for very long. Is this what it's going to be like for the rest of my life? I swear, pretty soon I'm going to hear wedding bells and be surfing real estate on the Internet and then BAM all of a sudden I'm collecting my pension.

Gaaaaaah. It's coming too fast. Can't take it.

I think I'm regressing. Almost in university (FUCK applications) and I've realised that I'm starting to act like a child again. More than usual, I mean. (I was childish in the first place.) I really don't want to be an adult. At least not so soon. I mean, sure it'll be cool living on my own and budgeting my own stuff and not having my parents hover over me every minute of the day, but at the same time... I want my old life back. Well, what are you gonna do about it. The future's coming like a bullet and this ain't the fucking Matrix.

(... Yeah, my inner English freak just bitchslapped me too.)

What am I doing with my life?

Friday, January 27, 2012

Well then.

Whenever I introduce myself to strangers on the Internet, my heart starts pounding almost like I'm panicking.

I avoid chatboxes because they're intimidating.

Even if nobody's talking.

It's the Internet. THE INTERNET.

There is something wrong with me.










brb studying

Monday, January 2, 2012

Pffffft.

"I do act grown-up, you know!"
"Pfft, grown-up, my ass."
"Wait, what grew up your ass?!"

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Something old, something new.

Something borrowed, something blue... no, I'm not getting married. The saying just kind of completed itself.

So, what's up, 2012? You're not so different from your predecessor so far, I must say; but then again, I've only known you for twenty-three hours and ten minutes at this precise moment. (Not even exaggerating; the time just changed to 11:10.)

Did I make any resolutions last year? Okay, after checking back to my post on the first of January, 2011, apparently not. Maybe I should do so this year... or maybe not, because I probably wouldn't be able to keep them anyway. ("Anyways" isn't a proper word, by the way... although according to Firefox's spell check, it is. Huh.)

Last night, I went over to Ruthie's little party/get-together thing, where I was a cool cat and hung out with a senior, her fourteen-year-old sister (who looks older than her), and their niner next door neighbour. We watched Enchanted and played with the dog and the guinea pig and made a gingerbread train. We also wrote up New Year's wishes and threw them out the door at midnight; according to Ruthie, this is going to make them come true over the next year. I'm a bit sceptical of this claim, mostly because one of my wishes was to ask out a certain person which will probably never happen because I'm a socially anxious coward... but I suppose I could work on that. Not that I haven't been trying for the past few years...

Now, getting back on track... I suppose I should be writing something thoughtful and emotionally uplifting in celebration of the new year? I'm supposed to be good at that, right? Then again, it's also a likely possibility that the swearing and selfish rants and depressing posts on this blog far outnumber the intentionally optimistic ones. This... is a problem.

For some inexplicable reason, I have an urge to test-drive a roleplaying character on this blog, one whom I've been working on for the past two days or so, intended for this really pretty real-life based community roleplay site that's going private soon. Whee, starting off the new year with run-on sentences. Her name is Tomoyo Coté and she's the lovechild of a Quebecois man and a Japanese-Canadian woman, because I'm a nerd and feel like incorporating French into my character's speech and also because the roleplay is set in a fictional, alternate universe version of Nagasaki, Japan. I really don't feel like dealing with all the intricacies of naturalization and my character technically not being a legal citizen of Japan. >>

... Que fais-tu, salope? Why the fuck are you dragging me into this?


She's also very foul-mouthed. And irritable. But inside, she's really just a soft, marshmallowy hopeless romantic with a fondness for flowers and video games.

Fuck you. Are you calling me fat?


Oh please, stop being so self-conscious. I mean, I know you're surrounded by cute Japanese girls (a lot of whom look fake anyway; I don't really see the appeal) but that doesn't mean you're a big fatso that everybody's going to hate. Heck, your playby is Belarus/Natalya Arlovskaya, for heaven's sake, and there are no unattractive people in Hetalia. Except maybe the Shinatty guy; he's a little scary. Sorry, China.

... So from your perspective, joshikousei are "fake"?


Well, not specifically them, but I suppose some of them do fall under—

Tais-toi, that's enough bullshit from a girl with a crush on a guy—


Anddddd, she's also a lesbian, which explains why she's defending those cute, pretty Japanese high school girls (and she doesn't feel that bad about it since she's only twenty so it's not really that creepy)—

—who she sees every week and yet still cannot muster up the balls to start flirting with him as she is too terrified of coming across as a stalker, which she probably is—


Okay, enoughhhhh, geez. o(≧Δ≦)o (Why do I feel the need to relentlessly insult myself through the shameless rudeness of my own character...?)

It's your own fault, you know.


Oh, going all passive-aggressive now, are we? >B|

........... Je quitte. Au revoir.


...

...

... Yeah, I really need to work on my French. It's probably all wrong. I need a tutor for roleplaying what is this

... Damn, it's past midnight. It's already January 2 and I didn't notice. So much for posting on the first day of 2012. :c
 
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