I miss blogging so much I almost want to die

For a while there I thought I was okay with not blogging. That I wasn't really all that passionate about it and that it didn't make me happy.
I was horribly, horribly wrong.
After reading my past entries on this site I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. With a fist full of love. Because that awesome feeling of "mm" came over as soon as I remembered what it was like to sit here, listening to lame music, clacking away on the keys. It feels GREAT. Absolutely amazing.

So last weekend I had a dance party with my friends. And it was the lamest thing I've ever done but I think it's become an obsession. Because now every time I hear a song with any kind of recognizable beat I HAVE to dance. No matter what. No matter where I am. Even if it's just a hand jive, I have to dance. Sometimes you have to do things like that to keep yourself from going insane.

And I have this other obsession. Wrapping presents. I absolutely adore wrapping presents. I volunteer to wrap presents. I wrap things for myself and then open them and it's this little box that says "WRAP ME PLEASE" so i do. And that goes on for a while. Except that doesn't really happen. But It would be totally sweet if it did.

And I realize that this blog is quite possibly the worst and most random blog I have ever written in my life. Because, as I mentioned earlier, school has been hoarding all of my creativity. But Christmas break is fast approaching and it is my goal to worry you faithful readers (however many are left after such a blog drought) about the many strange ramblings that I just might come up with. So cheers to that!

On Hiatus

I'm sure you've all noticed that I haven't updated my blog in forever. School has become my life and, because of that, all of my creative juices are in demand and I have absolutely no time to do anything fun. ever. In February my schedule will be MUCH less stressful so you can expect many new blogs after that. Until then, I may somehow miraculously gain some free time and choose to use it to blog. But I'm not making promises. My apologies to all of the people who actually enjoy reading this.

Is it Just me?

Or does anyone else think that Chester bears resemblance to Bono in Linkin Park's video for "What I've Done"?
Discuss, Please.


Also, a parody I stumbled on:

I Wish my Camera Wasn't so Crappy

Foot Blog

I think my feet are the most normal feet on the planet. If someone were to make a model of the average foot, it would look like mine. Because my feet, their shape and the length of my toes, the way I have a vein that is slightly raised and noticeable on each one, that is the way a foot is supposed to look. Down to the very last detail.
When I see other people's feet, I think they look strange. I am slightly disturbed by the feet of others. The big toe looks a little misshapen, or their toes aren't as long, or maybe that key foot vein is not visible. It's despicable.
And I obviously know that my thoughts are delusional, and that my feet are probably not that great, that they disgust people when I decide to wear sandals all summer. And I know that I only think my feet are what feet are really supposed to look like because they are my own, and that is what I'm used to.
And there is no real reason for this post but to ask the people of the Internet if they feel the same way about their feet. Because I need to know if I should start seeing someone about my foot narcissism.

My Biggest Fan

I got a ceiling fan a few days ago, and I can honestly say that that was the most exciting part of my whole summer. I know that is unbelievably sad, because usually summer brings something a little more interesting than the comfort of knowing that your room is an appropriate temperature, and if I ever heard someone as excited about a fan as I am, I would be genuinely concerned. Because fans should not be such a big deal. And I know the novelty of the fan will wear out very soon, because I'm already starting to grow weary of how COOL the detail on the blades is, and how nice it is to sit on my bed and watch them spin around, making the one you focus on look as if it's going slower. And I think I should be more afraid about my mental health because of this fascination, but the thing I'm worried about the most is what the hell I'm going to do when the honeymoon period with my fan has worn out. Maybe I'll invest in a lava lamp. Or a life.

I'm Sorry, Television

You know there is something slightly wrong with you when you make a menacing face at your television and tell it to SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW! And then take the remote and try to dramatically press the power button, but you didn't realize that there was a chair in the way, and you sit there for a few seconds flailing your arms around in a fit of rage trying to turn the TV off while still keeping all of your dignity.
And the television does turn off eventually.
But you realize that there is something slightly wrong with you. Because there is no point in trying to keep your dignity, or talking to inanimate objects when you are sitting there all alone. By yourself. With no one there to see you.