Damn, it won't let me fit the entire verse. Oh well, the next sentence is: I wanna play the game, I want the friction. It's quite possibly one of the greatest verses in songwriting history.
[the sweet, sweet buzz of the computer]
So. Yesterday, around this time, the computer mysteriously shuts off. Unnerved by the sudden silence, I go into the living room, and find that all the power in the house is out. I, of course, have no idea what's going on (I still don't...some electrical problem that, surprisingly, I didn't really care about). By the great inconvenience gods that smile on me often, the PSE&G guy couldn't come out till today. I just spent nearly an entire day without electricity.
You'd think that, by now, I'd realize just how much we have, how far technology has come, how thankful I should be for lights without batteries or flame, but, to be honest, I'm not. I'm just glad to finally be on the computer again.
That's a pretty good explanation for why I didn't blog yesterday, and much more interesting that just saying nothing happened.
Alas! Something indeed did happen, though something only I would find of worth. I saw Michi at Target while shopping for candle holders. For those of you who don't know (pretty much everyone), Michi is the queen of pops and also inherently evil. She made my life a living hell in fifth grade (well, really everyone did, but I resent her the most for it). She's smug, superiour, and a total bitch (hmm, sound like someone we know?). The funny, most gratifying thing is: she hasn't changed at all since fifth grade! She's still so short and looks exactly the same, if not worse! Ahaha! Triuuuuuuuuumph!
*cough* In other news, I memorized another sonnet, but since no one seems to like Shakespeare, I won't recite.
Well, well, well. Has NOBODY thought to comment in FOUR days? I actually had an acceptable entry last time, but noooooooo, you all just...just...didn't comment! Oh, you infuriating batch of meanies.
Karma is a bitch. I'd explain why I say that, but you'd probably think I was crazy.
What is it about hearing something you're not supposed to that makes YOU feel weak and exposed? Why are whispered words so much scarier than things said in the open?
Here's a lovely little taste of what I was doing at 1 in the morning last night: after *silently* saying one of my rare prayers to God, and crying for an undefinable reason, I had the urge to sit in the pitch blackness of the stair well and call one of my friends and just sob for an hour. I wanted so badly to talk to someone, for someone to understand.
I really hate when people try to use the "other people have worse problems" thing on me. 1) You don't know the full story. You can't make a judgement based on just what you hear; you have to feel everything for yourself before you can say someone's problems aren't that bad. 2) How I view problems may be different from how you view problems. Maybe I'm weak for it, but what seems like the end of the world to me might not to you. 3) I'm aware other people have problems too, I'm not that self-centered. But am I really gonna complain about THEIR problems?
What annoys me even more are the people who try to help you with your problems when they 1) (I'm liking numbers today) aren't helping at all or 2) don't realize that you don't want their advice, you just want someone to listen. For example, one time I was talking to two friends. I suppose I'll just go out and say it: I was talking to Nat and Kim. This was when Kim, to avoid my wrath, declined telling me who told Basil I liked him (it was her, though indirectly; I didn't blame it on her and I still don't). Naturally, being the short-tempered, emotional person I am (was that sarcasm or not? You'll never know...), I was livid. I was arguing with Kim and she was, in her own way, trying to help me, but it wasn't helping at all; it was just making me more furious. I told Nat everything, of course, and she commented slightly, then changed the subject. Neither were particularly useful at that point (sorry, Nat, but I like venting and, to be honest, getting myself angrier. Weird, huh?), but then, after Nat changed the subject, she actually started to make me laugh. You can't be mad when you're laughing, trust me, I've tried. It wasn't long before the flame died down, and I stopped screaming at Kim. So you see, while one friend just added fuel to the fire, another actually calmed me down.
I'm not sure what that entire long, long paragraph acclompished, but here's a lesson to my friends: if I'm really mad about something, let me rant, but change the subject. See! This was an educational post!