Catz.

Cats. We have a love-hate relationship. And by love-hate, I mean they love me and I hate them. I've always been a dog person. I love love love puppy dogs of all shapes and sizes. Lately I've adored Boxers because their puppies are just so freaking adorable (click on the word puppies). And they grow up to be equally adorable dogs! I want one. Unfortunately, my mom is allergic to fur, so I'll have to make do with the large stuffed dog named "Champ" that sits at the bottom of my basement stairs. I put him there. He freaks people out.

Anyways, I think the reason I really don't like cats is because I'm allergic to them. My face starts itching and then it gets blotchy and I look like a freak of nature.

The other day I was forced to walk around the mall like that. Thoroughly embarrassing. Luckily for me, there was a Sephora where I could cover my blotchy face with makeup.

Now, this wouldn't be such a problem for me if I wasn't a cat magnet. Seriously, cats love me. They like to rub themselves all over me. I can never get away!

Everyone makes excuses for them. "Aw, he/she just wants some love!" or "Look! He/she likes you!"

No. False. Lies. THEY KNOW. Somehow they KNOW that I will break out and itch and my throat will get stuffy and therefore they rub their furry cat bodies all over me.

I truly do hate cats. I'm allergic to them and all they do is rub on me and sleep. Dogs are so much better. I'm not allergic to them and they're cute, loyal, and playful. 

See? Dogs are awesome! And to prove my point, I spent twice as long drawing that puppy than I did any cat drawing.

Although, I guess cats have a few positives. One, they're pretty. Incredibly pretty. I can't deny that. They look all regal and stuff, ya know? And they KNOW IT. I think cats are pretty conceited. They sit in sunny spots and stretch and stuff. I know they're just trying to say "LOOK AT MEEEE I AM GORGEOUS"

Oh, and I just saw this thing on Tumblr that is about how awesome cats are. I tend to disagree with the idea that these traits make them awesome, but hey, whatever. 

I hope I haven't offended any of my cat-loving readers.

The complaints of a high school senior.

I am so stressed. I know that up to this point, my posts have been extremely upbeat and lighthearted...this isn't one of those posts. If you came here looking for laughs, look elsewhere. I need to dump out everything that's eating me up inside so I'm doing it here.

• I still have not been accepted into any colleges. All of my friends have.
• In fact, I still haven't gotten my transcript packets to send to the colleges that I applied to.
• I study for hours and still don't get the grades that I want. I work on homework until my hands hurt. I read all the chapters, I take copious notes...yet my grades are mediocre at best. No matter how hard I try or how much I want to succeed, all colleges will see is the letter grade and I will never be given a chance.
• All of my friends get amazing grades without trying. It's horrible to have to continuously compare myself to the people I'm surrounded by and realize I will never be on par with them.
• I feel like my short attention span is getting worse. For the first time in my life, I feel like I need to be medicating myself in order to feel any sort of control.
• I feel like I'm failing.
• I have pushed people away because I just don't want to deal with them. I can't deal with anything other than myself and my own issues. 
• People have consistently been working to ruin my relationship. I think it's over now, but it was horrible to have to sit back and not do anything for months. 
• I've recently been entrusted with a horrible secret that I don't know if I can keep. It's already tearing me apart. 
• I am consistently being lied to about the most idiotic things.
• I have no freedom. 

That's all. Sorry for the purely negative blog post...I just had to get everything out.

UPDATE: Today a suspicion of mine was confirmed. I knew it would hurt a lot to know the truth, which I guess is why I never asked. I suppose that subconsciously I didn't want to know. It just sucks to know there are things I'll never have, no matter how much I want them. Sometimes the truth hurts more than believing the lie forever.

SUH SUH SUH SNOW

The best thing ever is to look at the weather forecast and see that there's supposed to be TONS OF SNOW! I get super pumped and do a little happy dance. The only thing that could make this better is if it happens on a school night! As a senior, I don't have to make up snow days, so I get hella excited about any prospect of no school.

Unfortunately, I live in an area that never gets snow. Except last year when we had the snowpocalypse, snow always seems to just...miss us.

I always hear about snow and I fantasize that the next morning I'll look outside and the world will be covered in a lovely blanket of snow and that the news will say that school is closed. Then I'll put on my lax bro hat and run out into the snow!

But of course, my fantasies are just that: fantasies. In reality, the storm will split and completely go around my lame state and leave us without snow and school-bound the next morning.

Anyways, today is our FIRST SNOW DAY! Unfortunately, the roads are so icy that I can't do anything and Boyfriend lives way too far away to walk to his house. So I suppose I'll be sitting inside all day studying for midterm exams or something equally fun, like bashing my head against a brick wall.

I'm gonna go on TV and shovel sh*t into my face

Um...the title of this entry has no real importance or significance to this post. It's just something my friend just said. He's watching me type. Now it's awkward. There is cat hair all over his sweatshirt. Gross. You'd think he could find a lint roller...or wear a different sweatshirt. I'm pretty sure the sweatshirt is supposed to be black but you'd never know with the layer of white cat hair on it.

Anyways, I'm pretty much just sitting here on my friends couch with her little sister blogging and watching them get it on. Babies are in the making.

Well, I'm exaggerating, but they are being all lovey dovey. I'm really glad that I'm third wheeling. And I'm going to the movies with them tonight. Without Boyfriend. Boyfriend left me to go to Duquesne for an audition ): Major sadness.

I assume my life for the next hour or so will look like this:

This is reminding me of one time when I was like...7. My family used to throw these huge family New Years parties and all my friends used to come with their parents. One year I just really wanted to tell ghost stories. I don't know why, but I had an obsession with telling really bad and not at all scary ghost stories. Unfortunately, after like 5 minutes my friends got really bored so they tried to get me to do something else.

I was a brat about it. I stormed off to my room and left them really confused in my basement.I whipped out my sketchbook and sketched away my frustrations.

I was an aspiring artist at 7, even though all I could draw was stick figures and animals with lopsided heads.

After sitting alone in my room for an hour or so, my friends finally decided to see if I was okay. They came up to my room and of course I was a total jerk. I was all, I JUST WANTED TO TELL GHOST STORIES BUT IT ALWAYS HAS TO BE YOUR WAY BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL SELFISH!!!!!!

Needless to say, I was a whiner.

Anyways, I'm basically being ignored by my two friends while they get it on 5 feet away from me. It's okay, I'm used to it. At least I still have my Red Bull.

Anyways. Time to do other exciting things, like bite my nails or maybe pick lint off of my socks.

UPDATE: I just got yelled at for "not contributing". Contributing TO WHAT?! Do they want me to join in? Threesomes kind of scare me.

Boyfriend is an ALIEN!

Sometimes I just can't make it through the week. I wake up on Monday and I'm completely dead. I trudge through the day like a zombie, barely able to function. By Tuesday I'm better. I think to myself YEAH! THIS WEEK IS GOING TO BE AWESOME! I FEEL GREAT! Plus I get to eat half price Qdoba chicken queso burritos and those things are delicious.

By Wednesday, the greatness is wearing off, but I still feel pretty good. I get through the day just fine although I'm a little tired by the end of it. I usually take a nice power nap in the afternoon (aka like 3 hours) if I'm not hanging out with Boyfriend. Boyfriend would rather be entertained than sit around while I sleep. He likes it when I talk to him for some reason even though I have to say I'm the most boring person on Earth.

Anyways, by the time Thursday comes around, I'm so tired that I want to punch a baby in the face and possibly rip the head off of a koala bear.

Yes, that tired.

Anyways, today is Thursday and I'm contemplating suicide because Friday is 6 hours away and then I have to suffer through 7 more hours of school until the weekend comes. Thank goodness I only have a few months of high school left for the rest of my life.

Anyways, so what's on my mind is this: I think Boyfriend is an alien. Don't write this off as me being stupid, I have some pretty good justifications for my theory!

1. He is somehow able to stay up really late, regardless of the fact that he has virtually no homework, all the time and function during the day. It's miraculous.

2. He loves mayonnaise. Who likes mayonnaise?! I'll tell you who: ALIENS!!!!!

3. He doesn't think I'm weird. I guess people like me are the norm on his home planet.

4. He always tells me I'm beautiful. Even when I'm not wearing any makeup and I'm tired and looking like this:

5. He can eat a ridiculous amount of Qdoba. I can never even finish one burrito but I've seen him eat more than one. Insanity.

6. He prefers driving manual to automatic. I guess he's used to it because his space ship is a manual or something.

So yeah, I thought those were some pretty good reasons. I'm really becoming quite concerned about this. I know he would never probe MY brain but I'm worried for my friends and family! They have brains that are probably very appealing to brain-probing aliens like Boyfriend.


UPDATE: I talked to several people about it and it was agreed that mayonnaise is a sure sign of being an alien. I guess it's official then.

THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE! ZOMG.

I really like roller coasters. They're the bomb diggity. I didn't always like them, though. It goes along with my fear of heights, I just could not stand that climb up the hill and the first drop. I would want to cry. Until 6th grade when I went to Busch Gardens, I had only gone on one roller coaster and it was this wimpy wooden one at Six Flags. I recently went to back to Six Flags with Boyfriend and riding that roller coaster felt like I was riding a kiddy-ride...so I'm honestly not sure what it was that was so traumatic the first time I rode it.

Boyfriend on the other hand was NOT a fan of roller coasters. He shut his eyes on the Superman. Then again, it is called the RIDE OF STEEL!!!! (exclamation points to extenuate its awesomeness) and Boyfriend is kind of a softie. He's all fluffy on the inside, like a cotton ball. He was in no way equipped to deal with the RIDE OF STEEL!!!! like I, a person who is pretty much made of pure steel, was.

Anyways, back to the 6th grade. Actually, the summer before 6th grade.

I went to Six Flags (Obviously I basically live at Six Flags) with two people who were my really good friends at the time. I refused to ride the roller coasters because I was a nub and I was still traumatized by my previous roller coaster experience (I think I was 8 when that happened or something). My friends totally didn't care that I was a wimp. I think that secretly they were wimps too.

Well, we found this one ride called the Shooting Star (or something like that) where you sit in this box and it just carries you around like a really fast ferris wheel. I think we rode it like 20 times, but I don't think they found it as cool as I did, I was geeking out the entire time and screaming and basically just having the time of my life. I rode the ride again recently...it was okay, but when I was 10 it was AWESOME.

Legit.

Later on, we played this game where you basically just squirt a target and someone always wins. So we played 3 times and we all got these cow things with really big eyes and heads. We thought they were super cool but they're actually really creepy. In fact, I still have mine. It's about 10 feet away on a shelf...staring at me with its creepy cow eyes...

Oh god I think it's going to eat me...

But before it became super creepy, it was the GREATEST THING EVER!

We brought them home and we went to my one friend's house to sleepover outside in a tent!

When I was little, sleeping in tents was so much cooler than sleeping inside in sleeping bags or whatever. Tents were adventurous. However, I never camped out in a tent at my house. My woods are too scary. I'd probably be killed in the night. Regardless, sleeping with friends in a tent was the coolest.

Oddly enough though, I've never wanted to go camping for real.

Whatever. We all chilled in a tent with our creepy cows and formed what we called "The Sisterhood of the Cow" which was pretty much a cult. I still have my cow, but I'm pretty sure my one friend's dog destroyed hers and I don't know what the other friend did with hers. 

But that day was the best day of my life. I know this because I recently read my diary from elementary school and under the entry from this day it says "THIS WAS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!!" With a lot of exclamation points which either means I had a lot of sugar or I was super enthusiastic about that day.

Oh, and at that age, I had braces. This doesn't add anything to the story, I just thought it was an important thing to know.

So cool. I know. 

PS. Like 2 months later I went to Busch Gardens and became obsessed with roller coasters. If I had realized how cool they were sooner I probably could have saved my friends a lot of time that was wasted riding that stupid Shooting Star.

Goblin-creatures definitely frequent my neighborhood

I have alwaysalwaysalways been a scaredy-cat. I'm scared of the dark, scared of heights, scared of failure, scared of death, scared of chimpanzees, and most of all: scared of horror movies or any type of movie that includes a creepy person, creature, or situation.

When I was about 9 or 10, I watched the "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" with my next door neighbor. I was entranced by the violence. It was the greatest thing I had ever seen! My mom never let me watch anything that was PG-13 or that had massive amounts of violence, so I thought I was possibly the coolest kid in the world. My neighbor turned it on and promptly fell asleep. I sat there, hypnotized by the movie, for a very long time.

Eventually, a character came on that I was not too thrilled with: Gollum. He scared the bejeepers out of me. It was something about the combination of his voice and how he looked like he would be slimy. I didn't like slimy things, they freaked me out.

I probably wouldn't have been so scared if I didn't have to walk home in the dark after the movie. Past the woods...

The woods by my house are scary. They scared me when I was 10 and they still scare me now. There are creatures in there of unknown identity! Probably lions and tigers and bears!

Oh my.

But for real, my woods are scary. So I sprinted home.

Sprinting was always an issue for me since I'm an asthmatic. I always find myself feeling like I'm going to keel over and die any second.

So it was quite the task to run home from my neighbors house. Nevertheless, I succeeded! I ran home, ate some food, ran upstairs, climbed into bed, and turned off the light. Some hours later, I woke up for some reason. That's when I noticed that my closet door was wide open exposing the dark interior.

I became convinced that Gollum was in my closet. I immediately threw the sheets over my head and shut my eyes because of course, blankets and closed eyes are the best defense against possible closet goblin-things.

Unfortunately, I couldn't fall asleep. I slipped my arm out of the covers and blindly searched for my lamp switch. The room flooded with light and I quickly got out of bed and opened the door to my room. As I began my journey down the hall to my parents room, I happened to glance over the railing next to my room and glimpsed my front door. That's when I realized that Gollum was OBVIOUSLY outside my front door peering in at me from the windows that frame the door.

Terrified, I began to power walk to my parents room. I climbed in bed between them, waking my mom up.

Mom: What's wrong?

Me: Gollum is in my closet and then he went outside and was watching me.

Mom: Nicole, Gollum isn't real. He's just a character in a movie that you shouldn't have been watching.

To any parent that is considering telling their kid that monsters aren't real: DON'T DO IT. All it did was convince me that my parents didn't care whether or not I was eaten by goblin-creatures from Lord of the Rings.

Angry, I climbed out of bed and huffed down the hall. With my eyes shut of course.I got back in my bed and spent the rest of the night wide awake with the light on and a heavy book next to me in case Gollum decided to attack me regardless of the light being on.

Moral of the story: don't let your kids watch PG-13 movies. Actually, maybe just keep your kids away from all movies in general. Except for Milo and Otis. That was a quality movie.

Ukeleles and freckles are awesome

I don't want to sound mean, or bitchy in any way, but there are some people that I just cannot stand. And I don't mean individuals. I mean, if you could classify people, there would be entire categories of people that I don't like.

For example, I hate those people that ask wayyyy too many questions in class. Actually, I just hate people who ask too many questions in general. In class, they just waste time and take away from my learning. Actually, I don't really like learning, but I feel like people who ask too many questions are just forcing me to hear the same information over and over and over again. It's like getting a tooth drilled, but without novacaine. People who ask too many questions in general are probably just making up for a complete lack of social skills.
Don't ask me a billion questions just because you have nothing else to say. Exit the conversation. I don't like talking about myself or answering questions about what I ate for lunch three days ago. IT'S OBNOXIOUS!!!

I also hate those couples that are so couple-y that it's insane. Boyfriend and I are very close, but we're not ANNOYING. When we're with other people we're capable of not being obnoxious and overly lovey-dovey.

You know how some people look like their dogs? I swear some couples start to look like each other. And sound like each other. And basically just become each other...or at least some strange morph of the both of them...

It's horrible. Who wants to be like that? I feel that it is important to be able to distinguish one person from another. And besides, how can they decide which bathroomo to use?! Things could get awkward.

On a lighter note, there are people that I do like. I like ginger kids. It's said that they don't have souls yet they still seem to be consistently positive. I don't know how they do it! Their hair is freakishly colored and they have specks all over their body! It's awesome. Freckles are magical.

I also like people that play the ukelele. I've always thought they were the coolest instruments ever! I know someone that has a blue ukelele. He calls it a bluke. How awesome is that? SUPER AWESOME! YA-HOOTIE! And have you seen the video of that fat guy playing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" on the ukelele? It's supah fly. I wanna be his best friend.

In fact, I just want to be best friends with anyone who plays the ukelele.

If you play the ukelele, please contact me so that I may befriend you.

Thanks, and have a great day. (:

I'm hungry.

This is my first post! Hooray!
I've always thought of myself as a decent story teller, so I decided to blog about it just so I can seem hip and "with it". Probably no one will ever read my blog, so I'm more than likely just wasting my genius on an unappreciative audience...

BUT THAT'S OKAY!

Anyways, as you can see from the title of this post...I'm really hungry. I've been asking to get food for over 2 hours and it's starting to get ridiculous.
You see, things happen to me when I get hungry. First of all, my stomach starts making these horribly loud rumbles. No, not just normal stomach rumbles...ferocious stomach rumbles.
It literally sounds like a vicious beast is about to burst out of my stomach. It's terrifying.

And the most embarrassing part is that EVERYONE HEARS. Even in a crowded room, my stomach rumbles are still noticeable. This is why I should not have to wait 2, now almost 3 hours for food!
Thankfully, I convinced everyone to order chinese food. Soon the beast in my belly will be put to rest.

I was thinking about it, and the beast probably looks something like this:

I'm pretty sure his name is Ted. And yes, he does breathe fire. That's what makes having the stomach rumblies so uncomfortable; the fact that he breathes fire, that is. Not because his name is more than likely Ted.
Anyways, Ted has led me to have an uncontrollable desire for Chinese food. Lo mein and boneless barbeque spareribs. The fact that I'm not yet eating said Chinese food is making me a sad panda.

I've adopted the phrase "sad panda" from the show South Park, but I've made it my own. Panda's are obviously always sad because all they can do is chew bamboo all day! What's the point of living in China if you can't eat the delicious chinese food that they cook there? I'd probably kill myself without lo mein.

See? I can't get my mind off food. I have a problem. When I'm hungry, my thoughts go something like this:

It's a problem. I know. If my boyfriend ever sees this post, he'll probably be somewhat offended.
Oh well.

HEY! Food is here. Time to tame the beast.