Reading back on the posts of the last year or so, I come to realize, to my stark amazement: I am a Drama Queen.
Honestly, I didn’t know.
There goes my attempt at a nobler blogging endeavor. Darn. Even what little I put on here didn’t fit the goal after a short while. I think it’s time to scrap the project. I don’t even like the stupid name, really, chosen cause it was a phrase that got stuck in my brain, not because it had any merit.
Oh well.
This is the email I wrote to my sister… from her own gmail address… which she had left signed in on my computer… again.
Subject: I just wrote an email to myself
I must have done this in my sleep! I don’t remember typing this email… oh wait… nope, actually, I really don’t. Why would I send an email to myself? I must have a personality disorder, what do they call it, multiple personality? My sub-ego alter conscious–er, the other way around–er, my evil twin must have done it to freak me out!!!
That’s an even more probable theory if I interpret “twin” to mean “sister” and “evil” to mean “older.”
Oh. This is what happens when I sign into an email account on the computer that I was told *not* to mess around on because it’s where Stephanie’s Job lives and then leave myself logged in on that computer. I will Never Do Such a Thing Again.
There. Mystery solved!
Uh oh. What if she BCCed all my BFFs?!1!?!?!!!?11?!!
————–
I also uploaded a JPEG I created in Paint to serve as her new profile picture. It contained nothing but these words because, let’s face it, I’m the writer, she’s the one with the interest in visual arts:
This picture is here because my big sister thinks the one I had up earlier is inappropriate for a 16 year old–or, come to think, any year old–to display as a representation of him or herself over the internet. Especially if it were a himself. Which is not the case here, so nevermind that. Picture gawker!
I am tired–and it might just be me–but I am tired of all the flack American political leaders are constantly catching. From Americans. Tired of all the flack our presidents catch, in particular.
Regardless of party. Regardless of policy. Regardless of age. Regardless of intelligence. Regardless of race. Regardless of background. Regardless of belief system. Regardless of experience. Regardless of the fact that these men (someday women?) ARE our presidents.
They are all constantly bad-mouthed and mocked and insulted and disdained. Never by everyone, but always by somebody. Many bodies. Antibodies? Each time America undergoes a new head transplant, a good percentage of the body’s cells rejects it.
I understand and completely accept criticism of our national leader from other countries. I’m growing outraged that he receives the same–if not more often worse–treatment here at home.
I’ve never voted in an election. I am not political like most everyone else is. You don’t have to listen to me, and you probably won’t because of those last two sentences. But at least I’m not guilty of cutting off my nose to spite my face, as they say. I don’t care who’s in office: the President deserves my respect and my support as the leader of the country I claim citizenship in. Whatever decisions he makes for America, like them or not, he’s still our commander in chief.
I don’t give my vote unless it’s a vote of confidence in God working through whoever wins the presidency.
I am not political unless you consider the etymology of the word, in which case yes, I am indeed a citizen of this country, and I readily accept all of the authorities which that places me under.
If these two characteristics didn’t belong to me, I’d move or perform a coupe of the government, because no, I don’t blindly follow unworthy leadership without question.
But despite all the ways in which I disagree with how things in our country are run, I’m not going to attack the boss guy for it. Because he’s the boss, and I’m not, nor do I want to be, and nor do I have any reason to believe anyone else could do any better. I’m just grateful we have someone running the place, even if he runs us into the ground. Because otherwise we’d be like a chicken with its head cut off: blind, dead, and bruised all over from running mindlessly into every obstacle nearby.
Respect the head. America would be a zombie without him.
Funny how you can have a mantra, not quite know it sometimes, but recognize it instantly when it scrambles across your path one day as you’re out adventuring through the wild world of contemporary media….
“Nothing in this world is as it should be…. but that’s why there’s us. Champions. It doesn’t matter where we’ve come from, what we’ve done, or even if we make a difference. We live as if the world were as it should be, to show it what it can be.”
–Whoever the brilliant chump it was who wrote Angel episode 4.1, “Deep Down”
Today I made two stupid mistakes. I applied for a scam job online and unwittingly sent my resume out to some creep, who then emailed me back to ask where I live–and my address is right there smack at the top of the resume. Great. At least he was a stupid creep.
Then I applied for another job for which I had to take a writing test and turn it in at a time I set myself. I didn’t give myself enough time and sent it back an hour later than promised. Needless to say, that’s going nowhere. A side repercussion of stupidity to that was getting dinner on an hour later than usual–and you don’t do that to a family of 9, particularly when the majority are guys. Nor do you fail to tell your dad that dinner is ready until an hour after *that*, even if you believe him to be off busy doing something.
My spirit is squirmy.
This is not a post of substance so much as one expressing internal rumors (the kind that bubble up in a pot on the stove, not gossip). I’ve let go of communications with a lot of people, actually, and never really socialize anymore. Here is a post dedicated to small talk, then, as it were, because somehow, for my own good, I ought to get back in the habit of it.
“The hunt was on Wednesday for two North American forest-roaming bipeds, last seen in Northern California, present whereabouts unknown.”
That tagline promises the article will only get better, and it does. Oh, FOXNews. I was marginally interested in observing the hoopla over this, but you have wooed my attention brilliantly.
And just look at the progression of the related articles links! So, so dramatically, conscientiously suspenseful… and then….
Best part–>”…the rubber Halloween suit had been stuffed full of, well, organic material…”
“This is not going to be the end of you. Remember, last year, when you had to stand up in four different weddings in as many weeks? This isn’t as bad as that, and you’ll get over it soon enough!”
She kept looking at a point that was somewhere between his figure and the computer screen. He guessed she would keep watching both out of the corner of her eye until one of them stopped irritating her. He swallowed a sigh and kept trying.
“I had a hard time getting used to Brandon being gone after he moved in with Jess. Him being married wasn’t the weird part, just him not being around like he used to. Even when he was around, technically… which really only reminded me of how much he wasn’t around, otherwise…”
The computer flickered a little and her chin nodded towards it, but it was a false alarm. Her mouth and nose flattened a little more in displeasure.
“Maybe you should try restarting the program?”
No reaction.
“Those pictures are pretty huge files; it may be a bit much for the old thing.”
A noise somewhere between a snort and a sniff, delayed somewhat.
“So, you think that John will want you to come to the wedding?” He felt a little encouraged.
“No idea. It’ll probably depend on how big she wants it to be. Satellite friends don’t get invitations to small weddings.”
“Huh, satellite?”
“Mmm.” Then came a real sigh. She stood. Drooping. Finally looked up straight at him.
“Remind me that I love you.” It was a very plaintive look she gave him. Her nose pressed cold into his chest, her weight following, as he tardily wrapped her shoulders up in his arms. Like a package. “I, uh…”
“Right. That’s all.” She closed her eyes.
How can you not love this? Digital art by Anry: Fast Forgiveness.
Christopher Hitchens: “Your Christianity, in case you have not noticed, has actually made you a less compassionate and thoughtful person.”
Douglas Wilson: “You gonna do something or just stand there and bleed?” (quoting Tombstone)
Discuss.
Just a quick note to let the… 3? …of you who read this that my absence has been due to 1. no internet, 2. no energy, 3. no enthusiasm. I’ve just gotten back to updating my other rant blog, which is in no way to be connected with this one unless of course you consider the common authorship, and maybe I’ll get around to updating the more meaningful, i.e. this present, blog sometime soon enough. Maybe. I thought about it today, no less, and even before my email alerted me to Candice’s comment.
I have dialup now, as opposed to nothing at all, and I do experience spurts of inspiration more regularly, though often not when I’m in proximity to a computer. But keep your fingers crossed. And, whatever you do… DON’T BLINK!
2 points to the person who nails the reference.
