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I wrote yesterday, but somehow, it got deleted. I hate it when that happens, even when it's only 100 words. It doesn't set you back a lot, but it sets you back just enough to really get on your last nerve and irritate you to no end.
My mom and I were watching a little bit of Honey Boo Boo last night and I hate to say that it is a horrible stereotype of Southern culture. Not all Southerners are like that. Yes, it's true that many of them are, but definitely not all of them or most of them.
Back to what I was saying about Honey Boo Boo... it's true that not all Southerners fit that stereotype, but there were quite a few things about the little girl and her family remembers that reminded me of people I met "down South." I am almost afraid to say anything about how Southern people and their culture really bother me, but it really is a completely different mentality. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but "rednecks" do open themselves up to be picked on quite a bit. Hollywood cashed in something good this time, and they shall make good money.
I find it hard to believe that 2002 was 10 years ago. I still remember who I was and where I was. For the first half of 2002, I was in eighth grade. For the second half of 2002, I was in ninth grade. I just started high school and was so green and naive. I was a sweet little girl, and I wish I stayed that way. I still remember the guy I had a crush on; to some degree, I still have a crush on him to this day, as pitiful as that sounds. He's probably engaged.
I feel like I can't be a good Catholic/good Christian because I am so introverted. It feels like it's 400 times harder for me to talk to people than anything else. It's so stupid. I get all nervous and uptight, my heart racing a million miles an hour... over a phone call that will be over in less than 2 minutes.
And when I do talk, I never say the right thing. Somehow, it comes out sounding rude or inconsiderate or just plain stupid. I'm not stupid. I'm just socially crippled for some reason I do not understand.
The dream I had last night was rather disgusting. I think my subconscious mind is everything I despise in myself. Everything she does is something I would never do in real life if I was in my right mind. She makes me sick.
I didn't have a good weekend, really. The main issue I had all weekend was dealing with home problems, family problems, friend problems, all quite stressful. I did get a chance to take a walk, though, and it did my body good. I need to walk more, especially around my neighborhood, where there is a big hill.
Today is the day of reckoning. I hear a lot of people predicting that one of two things will happen: Romney will win by a landslide, or Obama will win by a very narrow margin.
I am not sure. People are also saying this is going to be like Reagan versus Carter, and that Obama will lose - and he will be the second (I think) incumbent to not get a second term. Something like that. I'm not big into politics. I know enough to figure out who I'll vote for and that's it.
But history does tend to repeat itself...
Well... the election is over and I didn't want Obama to win again, but deep down, I knew it would happen. My heart is broken for the United States. My country. I didn't think I'd get this emotional over it. I really feel like I'm about to cry, but I'll save the hysterics for when I get home. It's just... I can't believe some people can be so... I don't know. I don't want to say what I truly think, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I am sorely disappointed, but I'm glad more Americans went to vote.
This one time... in high school... I'm trying to think of good high school stories I can tell for my NaNoWriMo thingy (it's not a novel; I'm rebelling; it's more like a group of short stories). I think I used a semicolon wrong in that parenthetical phrase. Oh, well. I'm still learning about semicolons and other things.
I usually just take the first thing I can think of and run with it because I only have a half-hour to write before I have to concentrate on other things, so I had better make the best of that half-hour.
I listened to an album that I haven't listened to in a long time; I played it all the way through and it made me smile, but it also made me a little sad. I guess because of the memories, the nostalgia, etc. Funny that a person who's only in her mid-twenties could be nostalgic, but I think everyone gets that way. It might be possible for an eight-year-old child to get nostalgic. They might not know the word, but they could possibly know the feeling. What they'd get nostalgic for, I'm not certain, but they might.
Tomorrow is his birthday. He turns 23. I'm not sure if I should wish him happy birthday. He has tons of friends that will do that. He has a rather large family. Knowing him, he may go out and get a video game. Or a tattoo. Or he'll sleep with his girlfriend. And here I am, ridiculous, claiming that I hate him - which I don't; I'm just sorely disappointed in him -- and still thinking about him. I wish I could stop, but these things can take a long time to completely get over. Can't wait until I forget about him.
They say the world will end on December 21, 2012. That's a little over a month from now. I don't believe that; I think God is the only one who knows what day the world will end. I don't think he would reveal it to the Mayans, if his son doesn't even know. It's kind of strange how that all works, though. I really do wonder how many people around the world are preparing for its "end" on the winter solstice. All I can say is that I won't be one of them because I cannot believe that crazy theory.
Grrr... I have no idea what to write. I am full of ideas for my NaNoWriMo thingy, but I can't write them here, unless I can work these 100 words into my word count somehow. Not sure how to do that, unless I take a step back and break the fourth wall of my story. (I think that's the right expression.) I'm grateful that the drama in my life is contained within a Word Document and not actually in my real life. I despise drama, especially now that it's no longer high school or college and the real world awaits.
After these 100 words, I shall clack on the keys like crazy trying to make my 1,667 words for NaNoWriMo in one hour. I have learned how to write 100-word increments pretty well, seeing as I've been on this site for over 5 years. (That makes me feel old for some reason. Strange.) Maybe this time, I'll write about romance. I haven't written about love in quite some time, mainly because I've pretty much given up on it. Love is painful and overrated and I can't be sure if the person I love is going to stick around.
There's a song that talks about how everything is overrated: sex and alcohol and classic rock and all these other things. There are better things out there than the earthly pleasures; we are not creatures of the earth. I believe we have a spirit that longs for things that have more depth than just the ordinary pleasures of the flesh. Of course, nobody can scientifically prove whether our spirits or souls exist, but it's nice to think about every now and again. I like knowing that there's something bigger out there that we can hope for after we pass on.
I have a Nightwish song stuck in my head. The same one I have had stuck in my head for days and days, and I haven't even heard the song in probably about two weeks.
I am excited for Thanksgiving; I am going to have a lot to be thankful for this year and I'll be glad when I can have a few days off work to relax and sit around the house and finally catch up on all the reading I feel like I've missed. It's about time I finished this giant book I'm reading about the Nuremberg trials.
I have a Disturbed song stuck in my head. I'm starting to believe that they are my new favorite rock band, even though I never used to think they were anything special before. I like David Draiman's (the lead singer's) voice, and I like what he writes about. His music tells a story and has a message; it's not just mindless screaming like some of the bands that pass for metal these days. Usually they're just as bad as rap songs, talking about guns and death and killing girlfriends and hookers and what have you. So Disturbed is awesome. Listen.
A strange thing happened about a week ago. I was writing my information down on my deposit slip at the bank, and they want you to write down your driver license number for identification purposes. I have it memorized so that I won't have to drag out the card every time I fill out the slip. This time, I couldn't remember it for the life of me. It's like that part of my memory simply decided not to function that day for some reason. Rather odd. So I had to drag out the card and write the number down anyway.
"You must follow my orders." Obedience is a good thing, to a certain degree. But blind obedience is rarely a good thing. Think about what you are following, whose orders you are obeying. You may find that if you think about it, it would be best to rebel. Honest rebellion is far better than blind disobedience. In the end, rebellion might be the only way to instill hope in a world where citizens obey their rulers with little thought as to how those rulings were made, what they contain, and how they will affect them. So rebel if you must.
Listening to Lady Gaga on the way to work is a recipe for disaster, especially because I'll probably have one of her songs stuck in my head all day if I don't do anything about it or get so involved in my work that everything in my head irrelevant to work gets sucked out. That's what I like best about this job; it'll totally take your mind away from all the crap that's going on in your everyday life.
On a different note, it is almost Thanksgiving, so a lot of people are probably going to be out this week.
On my way to work, I always pass under this pedestrian bridge that goes above the road. Yesterday I saw four teenage girls on the bridge and they were talking; I was thinking that it would make a great scene for a YA novel. Then I thought that I'd never remember it because I was driving and couldn't write it down. But luckily (or should I say, mysteriously) I surprised myself by actually remembering it. So the scene's going into my NaNoWriMo novel eventually. Not today, but maybe some day when I am strapped for word count and story ideas.
They're already playing Christmas music in the stores. I don't know if I've said it on here before or not, but I'm not a big fan of those "secular" Christmas songs, like "Jingle Bell Rock" and "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." I'm more of an old-fashioned person, and I like the religious songs: "Silent Night," "O Come O Come Emmanuel," "The Little Drummer Boy," etc. I'm actually excited for the days (come the first Sunday of Advent) when I can start listening to Christmas music in the car and it won't feel like it's way too early for it.
Mostly, I am thankful for my job. I'm glad I have something that will allow me to develop my skills and keep the clothes on my back. I'm grateful for God who has allowed me to succeed when I thought I could not. Every day I will thank him for my life and the good things I have. I don't want to be a complainer who can only see the bad things in life. Life is too full of bad things to complain and make an annoyance of yourself, thus adding one more bad thing to this already sad world.
I am best friends with a guy. Chances are, I'll have to end that friendship if one of us gets in a serious relationship. What sucks is that my best friend is in love with me. I absolutely am not attracted to him in the least. He can try all he wants, but I can never be with him for various reasons. I hate the thought that if I get into a serious relationship, he'll be all upset and disappointed, but what can you do? I guess it's the way things have to be and there's nothing he can do.
That was strange. I typed a whole post for today and I hit submit and it didn't let me submit. Very odd. Oh, well. I am not in the mood to get angry over it. I have coffee with whipped cream on top and lots of sugar at the bottom, so it's liquid happiness right there. I had a dream once again about the airman who flew away and left me. I am tired of dreaming about him. I thought those dreams were over; I have only been having them for six years now, since I graduated high school.
Something about prostitution fascinates me. It's the same thing that fascinates me about strip clubs. Why do women do this? It has to be about the money and nothing else, because I don't know what kind of woman would work those types of jobs if they paid minimum wage. You could pay me the entire world and I would not be a prostitute and I would not work at a strip club. But I understand that there are women who feel that is their only option, and it's a shame that something like that has to be their only option.
Ah, I missed a day and I didn't even realize it until now. Well, actually when I was driving to work, my mind somehow turned to 100 Words and I was thinking... I forgot to write yesterday, didn't I? And sure enough, I did. But it doesn't matter now because here I am, tapping away. I cut my nails so I cause less damage to the keyboard and so I don't sound like a machine gun when I type. But the good part about that is that I sound productive, so it'll be good when my nails grow back.
My work in progress is driving me bonkers. I wish I could end it and give up on it and never write in it again, but I've put 8 years of work into it, I'm not completely ready to give it up, and I wouldn't want those 8 years of work to have been a complete waste of time. Oh, well. So I'll press on. I'm going to try to get 1,000 words on it today, but I doubt I get there. Well, I might. It's a lot less than 1,667 words a day for NaNoWriMo.
The moon was big and bright this morning when it was still dark. As the sun began to rise, it blushed pink, like it was ashamed of staring at the sun. Maybe the moon has some kind of pre-adolescent crush. It's an interesting thought. I was looking at the moon and I was inspired by the celestial orbs, the universe, and what else could be out there. Then I recalled the pro-life argument: "If it's a cell on another universe, it's life, but when it's a baby in a mother's womb on earth, it's a ball of cells."
Today and tomorrow... and that'll be the end of November. Another month that's flown by so fast I don't know what to think. And it's been a fairly difficult month. It wasn't simple like... well, I can't remember the last month that's been simple. May was difficult because I was starting a new job. January was hard because so many things were happening all at once. April was fairly simple, but that was before all the complications of May - it was more than just starting that new job that made things so complicated. But it's always more than one...
I've been thinking about fire drills. How loud they are. In college, when there was a fire drill in the dorm, this guy I knew used to stay inside all through the drill. I'd think the loud sound of the alarm would make you want to leave the building just to avoid it, but I guess not. I guess the guy would stay in the building to say "fuck the system" or something. I don't know. College feels like it was so far away in the past, but my memories of it will never fade. It's a time to remember.
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