Friday, May 28, 2010

Life's Better as a Redhead

SO, this super-lame weekend, I was thinking that my life has pretty much been the same for YEARS now. Nothing really unpredictable ever happening. School, school, school. And I was supremely bored. So I got a haircut. Another predictable moment, seeing as I got an a-line again. And I wondered if it was too "mommy"-ish, so I wanted to color my hair.
(So let's see how many times I can say so)

And I dared to be different. 
I went red. Fiery, spicy red.

I was kinda more than freaking out. The dye was orange and frightening. When I rinsed it out, there was a pool of tang in the sink. Lovely. But I think I like it. Maybe.

It makes my green eyes pop, yes?

So (there I go again) I think looking in the mirror and being surprised will entertain me for awhile. And this is only semi-permanent. The box says "28 shampoos," so (ugh. bigger vocabulary needed) in all actuality, probably two weeks. Lame. 

I'm kinda starting to like it. 
But no more pink lipstick for me. 

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Spoiler Alert

Well, it's over. There's never been anything so emphatic in my life. For six seasons--spanning from 2004 to 2010, covered through 121 episodes (roughly 7,260 minutes)--I have loved Lost. Mostly, anyways. Sometimes I hated it.

Like, when they killed Charlie.
Or Juliet--twice.
And when they brought good/evil into it with the mystical brothers,
one remaining nameless to add to the...mystery.
And the guy who wouldn't age that just made no sense at all.
Or anything Dharma.
And then there was that phase where I despised Jack.
And Kate. 

But I have always loved Sawyer.

Nothing beats the first season. Except, maybe, the "flash-sideways" of the final season--the alternate reality where everyone got their happily ever after. 
Or so I thought.
Nope, turns out they are all...

Ya, as in no longer living. 
(No, dad, the island was not Hell)
They just all died, formed some sort of imaginary limbo-life where they could find one another, and, once they did, they met in a church where the doors swung open and that necessary white light filled the room, drowning out the faces as the silhouettes wandered into a supposed eternity of happiness. 


Part of me is okay with the idea. But a bigger part of me thinks it is a huge copout--a quickie "abandon ship" on part of the directors, writers, producers. Dead? Come on. Sure, that meant Juliet could get back with Sawyer, and Sayid could finally have Shannon, and Jin and Sun were alive, and Charlie kissed Claire--that is all what made it okay. But the cheesy concept and hurried just felt wrong. For a show that started so strongly, it sure ended weakly. 

It was like Knowing
As in it was okay up until the last fifteen minutes.
And then I was like "What the? Are you serious? This is it?"

So it is over. Like most things, it ended rather anticlimactically and overly sentimental. Still, it's Lost, so I remain a forever fan.

Mostly, anyways.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

I Should Definitely Be Better At This

SOMETIMES, it is really hard for me to keep up on this blog. I just lack the...inspiration. That primarily being laughter. Yes, I lead a pathetically depressing life. Sometimes. I think part of the reason I haven't had a story that induces laguhter, is just because how fast everything has gone.

Like, hello, it is mid-May already. When did this happen? I have already faced midterms for the terms. I turned nineteen (Nope, don't feel any different). I moved in--was it a month ago?--to my new apartment.
Let me tell you, the feng shui is lacking.
Except in my room, which is, indeed, awesome.
I tried to tell my roommates our living room lacks any real flare and that ambiance was even a bit depressing, but they just shrugged their shoulders and went to their seperate rooms.
This whole "private room" thing has its downfalls.

Not that I would ever willingly go back to room-roommates.

This is a really random post. Boring, too. But I am serious: nothing remotely funny has happened to me since I last wrote. At least nothing that would be alright to share on the world wide web.
Doesn't that pique your interest?
So I will end with that.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


YESTERDAY, in my Creative Writing class, we were analyzing a famous poem alongside its first draft. My teacher warned us not to favor the first draft. Because anyone who loved the first was like someone who liked grilled cheese over caviar--they would be uncultured and lame.

A kid raised his hand and asked, "Who is Caviar?"

No joke.

Funny, huh? 

So, now, I am one day going to name...something/someone Caviar
Then it would be really funny.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Bad News, Bad Smell, Bad Day

I think my roommate might be dead.

There is this terrible aroma blanketing the entire apartment. At first I thought it was an old, wet washcloth, hanging by the kitchen sink. But, after a few minutes of eyeing it, terrified, I dared sniff it and, though it was gross--like a wet dog--it was not the source of the smell.

I sniffed a lot of things after that. The trash, the bathroom, the neighbors. I even took to sniffing permanent markers, just to get that awful smell out of my head. But it still reeks. And it smells as if it is coming from my roommate's room.

One of my greatest fears is that she is dead. I am living with a corpse.

I last saw her Friday night. I heard her come in. I heard her lock herself into her bedroom. And then...nothing. I have not seen or heard her since. And there is this inexplicable thought in my mind that she might, indeed, be dead. And I am smelling her putrid, lifeless body.

One thing I know for sure: she is terrified of crabs. But she owned one--just recently--and it escaped. That is why, she told me, she has yet to clean her room. Because she think she will see it and die.
That is what she told me. 
So, my theory is that she went into her room friday night, crawled into bed, felt something crawl across her, saw that it was the crab, had a heart attack and DIED. 

Makes sense, doesn't it?

I told my friend of my suspicions and another girl turned around and said, "You know, if your roommate dies, you get automatic A's for the entire semester."


I don't know how to react to that, nor can I condone the rush of hope that filled my breast.
Just kidding, I am not so heartless.

So, does anyone know what a dead body smells like?

I hesitate to post this. If it proves to be true, then I could most definitely be arrested for...something. I would be a prime suspect. Why didn't you report her missing, the police would ask daringly. And I would whimper and cringe, and they would pull this blog up. You think it's funny?, they scream, throwing their fists against the table. 

Oh, now I am terrified. 

So, a discretionary note: I do not really think my roommate is dead. Even with all the evidence presented, I find this to be an irrational fear. So, there. I just ruined my own story/drama.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Happy Almost-Birthday to Me

FINALLY. I am almost, almost nineteen. It's about time. I think I have been eighteen way too long; this past year has just dragged on and on. Perhaps because so much has happened.

I (sort of) graduated HS. 
Okay, let's just say I just moved past HS. 

I came to college. 
I am now a middle-aged sophomore at college.
I have faced three finals weeks. 

I have now lived in three different places.

Melissa came home.
No one in my family is yet married.

I have no job. 
Nothing new there, I guess. 

I have no boyfriend.
That's embarrassing.

There are so many movies that I have seen and want to see. 
...I don't know how that is pertinent.

See? Lots has happened. This whole blog has happened. Think about that: all this wonderful, humorous happenings took place in HALF the time I have been eighteen. Man, I wanna be nineteen already. 

Speaking of time dragging and being filled with lots of events...
I have watched almost four seasons of Bones since April 19. 
And I just realized how pathetic that is. 

I need a life. 
Hey, what are birthdays for, right? Change. Newness. BAM--problem solved. 

On May 8, I will no longer be lame, but I will have a life. 
Promises, promises.

(Note the subtle reminder of what day my birthday really is.
This means you have no excuse to not remember. 
So, remember, and celebrate my awesomeness.)