early twenties... no way average jose.

If I were to die in my early twenties, but live famously for the next baberjillion years.. hmm... Who gives a flying fudge? Honestly, I think if I were to have my twentieth birthday party on my death bed and someone were come to my side, hold my hands, and look me in the eye for that meaningful end of the road, it's time to evalute you're days kind of conversation and say "You lead a crazy amazing life, everyone will remember you when you're six feet under for 1000 years. To bad its over huh?" I might smack them in the face with a bed pan.
I can't imagine missing out on all the less extreme check point in an average joesphina's life. As my dad always says "You're 16, what the hell do you know?"
Even though theres no way I would ever admit it to him, he is completley right. There is a reason why old people tell sit on there rockers spiting out stories constantly. Day to day it can seem like we'll never get out of high school, that we've been doing the same old thing every day for eighteen years, but its just the beginning. The possibilties are endless once we get out on our own. Even if i'm not out when i'm older running all over the world making something out of every second, I hope that I would still be content with the quiet moments; like actually enjoying my job, supporting myself, meeting that person who will eat mashed potatoes through a straw with you when your eighty, starting a family, getting a dog to blame your farts on.
I don't know, maybe i'm wrong and would be way better to actually try to enjoy yourself every moment your living but, I guess I just more of a big picture, stay home to watch flavor of love on a saturday night type of kid.

each shel was so different....but alike!

when I was little my favorite thing in the entire world was to read Shel Silverstein's poetry. A large part of why the obsession began had to with the fact that my big brother really liked it and I just wanted to be doing what he was doing. Eventually he lost interest however and I had to keep my feelings about the books completely incognito so that I could remain in good favor with the higher power. Unfortunetly since I was a Christina "Little sister who cries all the time" and not Christian "Totally awesome little brother to be the green poweranger" the mssion was hopeless.
ANYWAYS.
Where the sidewalk ends was the best book ever. All the poems in it were so incredibly original and out there. They made me laugh while simultaneously provoking my brain. My favorite ones were those that had pictures that illustrated an aspect of the poem you didn't expect.I would always think he was so clever and funny.They were just awesome. The weird part about looking back on them now however is a large portion of them seem sort of sarcastic. Oh well. They were magical.
I'll never forget in third grade, we had to memorize a poem and I did this one because I thought it was like the funniest crap ever and everyone would want to be my best friend.
I made a little snowball,
as perfect as could be.
I thought I'd keep it as a pet and let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas and a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
but first it wet the bed.

It was something like that..

yeah yeah siddartha. you think your so meaningful.

This quote from siddhartha in my mind relates to the inevitability of life and path in life,and also that everyones paths are not so different. I think that this concept is so hard for westerners to understand ( especially Americans) because we are constantly being told that we forge our own paths and to embrace individuality but not diversity. I know that personally its very hard to think of a librarian, possessing a wild hooker who likes to paint her toe-nails red, deep inside but truly we all have these duel personalties battling with each other continuously. I just feel that westerners would like to believe that no one is alike by any means.

my icon..Bolstering the broken hearted

http://nationalbreakupday.com

Due to recent research advances I'd like to take this time out to tip my hat to the folks at Budweiser.

Thank you Budweiser for presenting national break up day. As I find my self facing a break up I realize, it's so apparent! How could anyone argue that large amounts of beer aren't the perfect, unmarred, ideal remedy for all the desolate citizens who are feeling alone,broken, bitter, angry, sexually frustrated and emotional? If nothing else the level of entertainment value in the entire spectacle will surely sky rocket. Heres to you Bud-dy.

High school..highs-cool.HIGHSCHOOL!? It has got me FREAKIN' out man.

Jesus, high school. what a pain in the as*. So awkward and smelly and confusing and turned around, jaded, corrupt, perfect, perfectly devised system, perfectly horrible, hilarious, spontaneous...aaaaand fast holy shhhiizzz man we're halfway there! It's like I am halfway through a race; I think I know how everything will turn out because everyones positions are uniform and equable. Really, however, the bowlegged forrest gump looking kid in the back is going to take off in a couple yards and surprise the crap out of everyone. And to know the end is near? It's sad actually. who would've thought..?

Anyways I just felt the need to blab momentarily.
But the paradox of it all? There are so many that pop in my head... But the most frustrating of them all to me is it seems that we, the students, are expected to make adult decisions, and still are not given adult choices, options and opportunities. It seems unfair to have to put up with being told what to do, how to live and love, when to do things, what to eat, what to wear or more importantly: what not to wear, when we can pee(like we can even control it), the list never ends. The funny part to me is the all of the people molding us, "guiding" us, number one seem to be incredibly bitter, piqued,scarred,perturbed and are definitely no better off then any of us. Secondly these teachers seem to be completely shocked when we fall flat on our gluteous and they seems to hold no guilt for any of it. I'm not trying to say that we shouldn't take any of the fall for our..miscalculations or that our leaders should be expect failure.I guess what I don't understand is if we can't be free to explore all the possibilities, choose our own paths, blah, blah, blah... How can we be held accountable for where or how the bridge ends?
The whole ordeal just reminds me of a day at kindergarten thats going so great until you have to play follow the leader and the greasy kid who has a nervous gas problem,coke bottle glasses (but is still blind as a bat) is the chosen maestro. At the end of the day you'll probably end up prying crayons out of your nose.

My mom said that once after getting a flat tire on her bike a doctor she was working for told this:
" Ouuu howlt tiightee to deez days, deez ones ob yo' yout. dey are dee bessht, ouu will shee soon enought. Ou will be tinking, Zittlesberger, you are a shmaart man i shoud hab liiisenteded to you before I couldn't ride any longaa. Dr. Zittlesberger why did I forshake my yout hmm? dat ish what ou will tinking. "

p.s. my mom does a horrible zittlesberger accent.