Give me love like never before,
cos lately I’ve been craving more.
Preparing to avert the eyes as Noomi Rapace performs an illegal abortion on her alien fetus.
I seriously can’t imagine anyone calling me hot. Maybe cute, but I feel like I’m too awkward to be hot.
I don’t know whether or not I should be bothered by this.
This is just nonsense chatter.
Hot for Teacher
I find it awfully pathetic on my part, that after being out of a relationship for over a year, the only person I seem to have a crush on is my AP Government teacher. It’s not that I need to be in any sort of relationship right now, especially since I’m in high school, but I think even those that keep themselves away from dating have crushes every once in a while. Right?
My teacher possesses 99% of the characteristics that would win me over (except for the fact that, according to his Facebook that I ever so often stalk, he likes country music big time, and me, not so much).
Is it so hard for boys in high school, or even college, to acquire book smarts and common sense? It just appears that he can only have one, but not the other. Well, my Government teacher has BOTH.
I’m not even that picky when it comes to looks. I’ve dated some homely looking males before. But intelligence is a must, and I mean intelligence is every way shape and form. It’s hard to have crushes on the boys around me when they talk like the cast of Jersey Shore to which they find this to be cool of them.
My teacher is married and has children, so of course I would never slut it up with him. But I just pray that one day, he will transform into someone much closer to my age who is in fact single to which I could have a mild crush on, and maybe eventually pursue my feelings with him.
P.S. this is not a cry for help of loneliness. I am not lonely. It just saddens me to see that, if I did want to date, I wouldn’t have very many options.
As I watch Girls (yes I’m drinking and watching a dvd box set that I received for Christmas, by myself, for New Years), Shoshanna discusses with Hannah the basis of a game show called Baggage. Then they share with each other the baggage that would be in their bags. You can choose 3 pieces of your life to put in these bags rated on small, medium, and large (small being minimum baggage and large being totes embarrassing).
I swear I’m not blabbing. I began to pick at my brain, trying to figure out what my baggage would be. I hope that no one I know reads this, for this is going to get pretty personal, but here goes my 3 bags of baggage.
- Small baggage: I talk to my cats as if they’re children. I know many people that do this, but I really take it to an extreme. I buy them toys and clothing. I talk to them in front of people. I have no shame for any of this. If a man and Jerry Springer thinks this is weird, then they can go fuck themselves.
- Medium baggage: My mood swings interfere with my relationships. It can be any type of relationship, from family to friends to the dreadful boyfriend. Even in an hour’s time, I can go from feeling like I have it all and that I have the best circle of people in my life to hating all breathing individuals. It might have something to do with the actual person, or maybe I’m just not in the mood to communicate with the incredibly dull human race.
- Large baggage: I take medication for the mood swings explained above. I can’t really tell the difference in my behavior, but it does help me lose weight. I can feel my collarbone! Score!
I don’t know if this is the correct order of levels of baggage, and I probably have worse things to say about myself that could go in place of these characteristics, but I’m sticking to it because I’m far too drowsy to come up with any other ideas.
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