Angry Letters

Dear shitty friends,

I hate that you make plans with me and then bail three hours before. I hate that every time I call you to hang out you are “eating lunch with mom” or “visiting grandma.” And I hate that you are FUCKING RETARDED. So FUCK YOU, shitty friends. Even though I will come crawling back to you like a sweet dog to an abusive owner, right now I FUCKING HATE YOU.

Also, when I call you to tell you that I am about to “go take a bath,” that means “I AM ABOUT TO HAVE A MANIC DEPRESSIVE ATTACK SO GET THE FUCK OVER HERE.” If you weren't such shitty friends, you would know that.

Did I ever tell you, shitty friends, that the thing that annoys me most in the world is when people flake out on plans? BECAUSE YOU DO THAT 99.999999999% OF THE TIME.

I love you, shitty friends, most of the time. But today I FUCKING HATE YOU.

What? You don’t understand? Ok let me say that again.

I FUCKING HATE YOU.

So this is for you, shitty friends.

Adventures in Depression

First of I would like to thank Hyperbole and a Half for giving me the inspiration to leave the bathtub. Now how I got there…

**I must note that I do not have normal human emotions. I don’t have good days and bad days sprinkled throughout a week or a month like a normal person.  I am an eternal optimist, meaning I have 99.999% AWESOME days:D But every once and a while I will go manic depressive for like six hours.

Here's how it starts. I hate essays. Every so often, I get twelve of them assigned on the same day.  On these days, all the joys of life cease to exist.  My worries and pains (that really aren’t all that worrisome or painful) all of the sudden make me want to kill myself. Not literally kill myself, but you know what I mean.  Anyways, on days like these my normally optimistic demeanor turns into a little bitch at the thought of having to face the murder clowns with Ebola grenades. My motivation to be happy runs off to go hide under the bed and I am left to suffer. Like I said, it doesn’t happen very often, but when it does my natural female instinct forces me to buy three pints of Ben and Jerry’s and seventeen bags of skittles. From there, I lock myself in the bathroom and sit in the tub. For like six hours.

“What do you do for six hours?”  You ask.

While shoveling spoonfulls of “Americone Dream” into my mouth and quietly sobbing, I sit there and listen to sad music and think about all of the sad things in life, like dead puppies and our economy.

It kind of looks like this

It’s not pretty.

See, my depressive-ness starts off for fear of essays (and my unconventional writing process). It ends with fear that the world will explode/I will end up alone/I will die of Ebola. It’s a snowball effect. Or maybe it’s a never ending cycle bringing me back to the reason why I hate essays.

It’s confusing.

Anyways, sometime near the end of six hours I have an epiphany. I find some redeeming quality about life and my motivation to be happy crawls out from hiding. I get out of the bathtub (which at that point is full of melted ice cream and sad thoughts) and metaphorically/literally watch my troubles go down the drain. And just like that my manic-depressiveness is over!

(It’s a really weird process.)

So instead of writing one of my twelve essays, I decided to share with you my adventures in depression.



The essay writing process

This is how I write my essays.

Prompt: Write an essay comparing the positives and negatives of congress

I start with the introduction:

The United States Congress is the bicameral legislature of the federal government of the United States, consisting of the Senate and the House of Repre.nsafkn.sfkjq;owimregq;/wd,mfa/s;dlkjmallmdsn flmansdfnsdlmfnlaksdjfn.smd f;laksjdnf.as,mdng;ald mf’;lkjg v’;sfg’sc;kmfgls;kfdmg I don’t give a fuck.

(At this point I take a break to look at funny pictures of cats...for example--->)

I usually forget about the essay.

I then come back six weeks later (usually the night before the essay is due) and make myself do it. And by make myself do it I mean I sit down at my computer and convince myself that if I don't finish the essay in exactly sixty minutes then clowns with hack saws and Ebola grenades will burst through the door. I start a timer.

I always finish on time.

Obsession of the week

I am sitting here at Starbucks, hoping the coffee filled atmosphere will magically give me the motivation to write my essays. Sadly, it does not. So instead of essays I am writing about my obsession of the week, which is…drumroll please…fog.

“What the fuck.” You say to yourself. You were expecting something awesome, like ninja-dragons or manbearpigs; you know, what normal people are obsessed with. Well friend, prepare for a big bitch-slap in the face because fog is awesome.

I woke up this morning and it looked like Mother Nature had smoked seven thousand pounds of marijuana; I honestly could not see my dog seven feet in front of me.  It was awesome, because nothing ever happens in Texas.

It was not awesome ten minutes later, when I had to drive to the grocery store. Then it was scary as shit. Driving into a wall of pure white is just about as scary as a possessed murder clown with a hack saw.

I was completely blind to everything around me. For all knew there could have been a car full of murder-clowns right next to me, waving their hack saws and preparing Ebola grenades.  

There probably wasn’t…but you never know.

Anyways, after it went away I was sad. I missed that strange, ominous feeling of knowing there could be anything beyond that sinster white fluff. I wanted more…

And more…

And more…

MUHAHAHAHA

And that’s why it is my obsession of the week:D

Also…on a less disturbing (or maybe equally disturbing...) note I decided to dress my dog up in a Halloween costume instead of writing an essay on the positives and negatives of congress.



Look at the expression on her face…

It says "Halloween is my favorite holiday! I love you, claire." 

Interesting facts part 2!

I had so much fun looking up interesting facts the other day  that I decided to share some more...

Interesting fact number 8:

Dolphins sleep with one eye open.

So you betta watch yo-self

Interesting fact number 9:

Donald Duck comics were banned from Finland because he doesn't wear pants.

It's ok in America though, because lots of people don't wear pants.

Like this guy^^

Also please note:

Interesting fact number 10!! (since we are talking about pants)

In England, in the 1880's, "Pants" was considered a dirty word.

Interesting fact number 11:

It was discovered on a space mission that a frog can throw up. The frog throws up its stomach first, so the stomach is dangling out of its mouth. Then the frog uses its forearms to dig out all of the stomach's contents and then swallows the stomach back down again.



Interesting fact number 12:

It's against the law to catch fish with your bare hands in Kansas.

I believe the politically correct term is HILLBILLY HAND FISHIN' and I'm pretty sure it only applies to the people that inbreed.

Interesting fact number 13!!

Spotted skunks do handstands before they spray.

Interesting fact number 14:

The Earth weighs around 6,588,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons.

He must hate having to go to the doctor...

And lastly Interesting fact number 15:

The Neanderthal's brain was bigger than that of a modern day human's.

(I think this only applies to one human in particluar...)

Interesting Facts

Essays suck balls and are incredibly uninteresting. To get you through the process I have devised a list of interesting facts that you can refer to whilst slowly dying of ennui. For those of you that don’t know what “ennui” means, look it up. Or not. It means Ebola. JUST KIDDING. It means boredom. You should use it in your essay. Even if it doesn’t make sense. Just do it.  



Anyways...let's begin.

Interesting fact number one:

There are mites that live on your eyelashes.

Those sons of bitches are chomping away on your follicles and you don’t even know it. It's fucking gross.

Interesting fact number two:

A whale’s penis is called a dork.

I don’t know why I decided to include this fact, but it says “penis” so I figured it would get your attention. Also, it made me say “HAH!” (but on the inside)

Fact number 3!!!!

All porcupines float in water.

This is pretty much a useless fact of science unless you are stuck on an island.  Knowing this, you can find your way home on a boat made of porcupines.

Fact number 4

If you bring a raccoon's head to the Henniker, New Hampshire town hall, you are entitled to receive $.10 from the town.

I am too lazy to draw a picture of this. Just imagine a councilman paying a man one dollar in return for 10 racoon heads on a stake.

Interseting fact number 5:D

  Mosquitoes have teeth.

      

NUMBER 6:

 Only 55% of all Americans know that the sun is a star.

If you do not know that the sun is a star, I am sorry to inform you that you are a total dumbass. Also, what does that say about the American education system? (<---you should write an essay about it. But then you would end up back at this website. It’s a never ending cycle!)

And finally:

Unicorns are real



Trolling

Instead of writing my essays, I decided to troll the internet.

“What the hell is internet trolling?” You may ask. Well, I cannot tell you that, because I am still yet to figure it out.

I had first come upon this term in an article called “annoying things people do,” and I thought it sounded badass because it had the word “troll” in it. I immediately typed it into Google, and I happened to see the link for a website called “troll food.” At that moment in time nothing else in the world mattered more to me than finding out what trolls eat. I clicked on the link.

The first thing I see is a giant muffin:

This makes sense. Everybody likes muffins.

The second thing I see is this creepy face:

This kind of scares the shit out of me. This also makes me apprehensive about continuing, but I do it anyways. Next I see this, and am entirely confused:

I come upon this gem. I am still unsure about what is going on at this point, but I am somewhat intruiged...

Then this:

Oh.

My.

God.

Yes.

Long story short, this ends up being the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I read it about seventeen times a day.

Funny side story: On the first day of biology I was reading troll food out loud to myself (after reading some of these you will understand what I sounded like...) and I was having a blast. Nobody talked to me for a long time. I found out recently that everybody thought I was retarted for like six weeks.

JUST KIDDING. (kind of.)

I know you are dying for more…

And because I love you...

Critical Reading

Prompt: Read the article “007 is Back, and He’s Brooding” by A.O. Scott in the English textbook and prepare a critical reading to turn in on Friday.

This article is very confusing. Scott uses about 500 adjectives in this 501 word movie review, and I’m pretty sure he made up half of them up on the spot. I read this article in its entirety and still I have absolutely no understanding of the emotions Scott has towards this particular film. A simple zero to five star rating would have sufficed for me, yet Scott decides to ramble on about nothing more than Alicia Keys and brooding. (Or at least that’s all I understood). Also he said the word “nifty,” which is NOT ok unless you are an eighty-seven year old grandmother. I have never seen the film “Quantum of Solace.” If Scott thinks it is good, which he may or may not have mentioned in the review,I probably won't go see it because I can already tell we are two very different people with two very different tastes. If he thinks it is not good, I probably won't go see it (not because I am listening to him, but because I would rather see Lion King 3D or something about teenage mermaids than spend three hours suffering through another bad James Bond movie). Also: I have attached to this paper a picture of a funny cat so you will smile and not fail me. I need to go to college.

p.s. i like to call him manbearcat

Over the weekend

Over the weekend I was supposed to write my college entrance essays, but instead I went to the pond behind the library. I brought bread to feed to the ducks and I was really excited about it (because ducks are awesome and not at all lame). I carefully laid the stale loaf on the ground and ran behind a tree, kind of like one would do with fireworks. (I don’t get to light fireworks very often so I figured it would be a good time to practice the art of fleeing-from-small-object-in-excitement).  I waited for several minutes (seconds), but the ducks did not eat the bread. I got frustrated. I grabbed the bread from off the ground and began to pelt small chunks at their little heads, hoping it would make them hungry.

It did not.    

I walked away in anger.

I also took a picture.

Ducks are stupid. So here is a funny picture of a cat.

Lalalala...

Instead of writing my essay, I got on Facebook. I had a blast chatting with my abundance of attractive and popular friends.

JUST KIDDING. I don’t have friends. JUST KIDDING AGAIN… maybe.

I happened to notice a status which I think perfectly explains the thought process one experiences while trying to write college entrance essays:

college<stripper

Instead of liking it and/or leaving a witty yet socially acceptable comment and moving on with life like a normal person, I decided to make a comparison chart to help me decipher the accuracy of the statement. 

It is accurate. Stripper wins because there are no essays. 

English Teacher gave me a B minus. That bitch.

Prompt: Write a narrative essay about an experience you will always remember.

My Experience

   When asked to pick a single experience that I would never forget, I was completely perplexed for quite a few reasons. The first question that came to mind was how on earth I was supposed to know what the experience would be that I would never forget. The only plausible solution to that question would be to build a time machine so I could travel to the exact moment before I died and ask myself what exactly I remembered of the years in which I was ages zero to seventeen. It seemed highly unlikely that I would be able to build a time machine in the short amount of time that I had, so I just had to imagine what would take place if that were to happen. I imagined myself racing to the side of my dying future self as she rolled around in agony from exposure to Ebola. (It was either that or radiation. I couldn’t tell). I told future me all about my essay and all of the completely legitimate reasons why I decided to partake in my journey, and future me was really confused. Long story short, I got distracted by the flying cars and future me died before I could get an answer. So I was back to square one. The second reason I knew I would have a hard time with this prompt was because of the fact that the only memory I could recall at the moment was what I had eaten for lunch that day. I tried a little harder and I remembered that the night before when I had taken my dog for a walk, she had eaten some poop off of the sidewalk and I thought it was gross. Should I write an entire essay about my dog and her poop? I thought.  After a lot of deep thinking, comparing tables, graphs, and charts, doing intense research, and baking a cake, I decided I would write about my experience writing this particular essay. “You won’t remember writing this essay forever.” One might say. But I will, and you know why? I will print this essay out and staple it to the bedroom wall of every house I will ever live in, therefore being reminded of it every day. I will just make myself remember it forever.  Much easier than having to go back into the future to watch myself die of Ebola/ radiation poisoning again. (It wasn’t a pleasant thing to watch. It looked like I was in excruciating pain).

   It was a beautiful September afternoon. The temperature was eighty-two degrees with a slight breeze. I had gotten home from school at 3:30 in the afternoon, intent on finishing my essay four days before it was due so I could devote all of my time to failing AP Biology. I sat outside in my back yard, far away from the box of marbles that seems to distract me from my work on a daily basis. I had written the first three letters of my name when I noticed something sitting near the base of the tree twenty yards away from me, so of course I had to check it out. Turns out it was a rock. I had thought for a second it was a bouncy ball. I threw the rock into the pool in frustration. At that point I thought it would be fun to climb the tree, so I did, and I made it all the way to the top. I felt incredibly proud of myself for completing such a feat, so I decided to go celebrate with ice cream. While eating the ice cream, I dribbled some on my shirt and I ran up to my room to go change it, but realized it was my last shirt. I had forgotten the fact that I hadn’t done a load of laundry in about four weeks, so I decided that would probably be a good idea at that point in time. After I put some clothes in the washer, I got a sudden, uncontrollable urge to clean my room. The last time I had cleaned my room was the last time I had done a load of laundry, so you can imagine what it looked like. While rummaging through the musky, roach laden piles under my bed, I found a bouncy ball, which made me incredibly happy and super energetic. (It is important to note that the energy level I reached at that point in time matched, if not exceeded, the energy level a three year old would reach after ingesting seventeen bags of skittles). I was more than entertained by my bouncy ball, but I couldn’t help but get distracted by those damn marbles. By the time I realized what had happened it was 9:00 pm, and I was tired from my long day of playing with toys and climbing trees so I opted to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding instead of doing my homework. It took me another two days to finish my essay but I finally did it, and it was an experience I will never forget.

Angry Letters

You know that thing where you write a letter to someone you are angry at and then put it in a drawer and forget about it? Well this is kind of like that, but instead of putting it in a drawer I put it on the internet so the person I hate can actually read it.

Angry Letter Number One-

   Dear English Teacher,

In case you have not noticed, you repeat everything you say.  It frustrates me and makes me not want to write my essays. I recorded the first minute of class so you can understand what you sound like, but I don’t know how to put sound on a blog so I will write it for you:

“Class has officially begun. Class has officially begun.  I want to give you back your essays so you can revise them. So you can revise them. You all did pretty well but I noticed some of you need to add detail. You can revise it and the grade you get on your revision will replace your old grade. Replace your old grade. Claire, put your phone away. Put your phone away. Put your phone…away.”

Do you have a disease?  If you do you should tell me. I don’t like to be angry at people that have diseases.  Also I don’t like that you gave me a B minus on my essay. You claim it does not have a thesis and I use too much colloquialism (whatever the fuck that is), but I thought it explained perfectly my apathy for essay writing. On a side note,I hate that you drink the nasty flavor of vitamin water. I hate that you make me read stupid short stories about mortgage loans and why old people hate Facebook.  I hate that you are afraid of saying stupid and say “oopid” instead. I think it’s gross when you call your husband “Big Daddy.”

BUT I do like that you play movies when you get bored of teaching.

Love,

claire.

A list of things more interesting than an essay:

 

1.     Carrots

2.     Eating Carrots

3.     Watching a dog eat carrots

4.     Listening to NPR

5.     Facebook stalking

6.     Fossil hunting

7.     Going to the Dentist

8.     Picking out lotion

9.     Smelling candles

10.   Flossing

11.   Ugly dogs

12.   Calculus

13.  Typing things in weird fonts on Microsoft Word

14.  You figured it out!

15.  Beanie Babies

16.  Mints

17.  Watching people shop

18.  HTML

19.  Self-help books

20.  Short people

21.  (As to not be prejudiced) Tall people

22.  Poop

23.  Wax

24.  Notebook Paper

25.  Everything else

The First Post

"I don't want to write my essay"

“Then don’t. Write a blog.”

“What the f*** is a blog?”

“Who cares? You should make one.”

“OK.”

This was a conversation between me and my hot boyfriend. JUST KIDDING. I don't have a boyfriend. It was just me talking to myself.

And that’s about all I have right now...

“AWWWWW it’s over?” You say, with tears welling in your eyes.

Yes. It is over for now. But I shall leave you with a funny picture of a cat. Because apparently that’s what people are into these days.

Not funny enough? Maybe this one...

What about a funny picture of a dog?

JUST KIDDING. It's not funny.