Mr. Snuggles is a Socialist!

I've always hated public speaking, I mean, always. Even if it's just some informal presentation for French Class, I'm still outlandishly nervous and on edge. My hands shake, the paper shakes, I look at my feet, I speak too fast, I shift my weight, and I just want to be done. I really hate public speaking, which is why I was unbelievably surprised at myself when I woke up one morning and decided I would audition for Big Show.

Well, it wasn't exactly like that. I've always really liked Big Show. It's funny and it's silly and it seems relatively informal. I was also feeling left out and sad because I don't play soccer and I really have no desire to play soccer but a lot of my friends play soccer and all they talk about is soccer sooo... I wanted to find something else to do! There was a long (20 minute) tortuous debate about whether or not I should audition during chemistry, in which I was convinced and comforted by the fact that my friend Sydney would be auditioning as well.

My audition was silly and I earned myself the nickname, "I can't believe I just said that." I will not, however, be sharing that story with you -- much too embarrassing. Much to my surprise, I was deemed funny enough to be made part of the cast. I knew I wouldn't be happy though, unless Sydney was in it with me, and she was, so it was all good. Then we wrote some stuff. Filmed some stuff. Rehearsed some stuff.

Then I had to perform some stuff. During all of that other stuff, somehow it had slipped my mind that I would have to perform it in front of a bunch of people. Twice. I became increasingly more nervous as the day drew closer, but on the day of I was surprisingly at ease. I knew what I had to say, I knew the voice I had to say it in, described by some as cute verging on creepy. I had my stuffed animals by my side, and I was ready to roll.

The hour of, however, the nervous feeling came back. I was ready to throw up, or pee my pants. But I did neither. Thanks for the "pimp" talk, Mr. Butler! Though helpful, it didn't stop me during those 2 minutes behind the curtain -- listening to Jack finish up his hilarious and borderline offensive pick-up lines -- from jumping up and down and punching Thomas in the arm. I was so nervous, I can't even tell you.

The lights went down, and I had to do it. Crap. Adam brought the lights up early. Panicked, I still managed to say loudly and clearly, "Esscuse me, not ready!" He brought them down again. Everyone laughed. Was it the voice or the pigtails? I don't know, but I do know that laughter is an unbelievably comforting sound sometimes. My hands weren't even shaking. I was ready then.

Lights on, I smiled.

"Let's have a tea party everyone!"

What to title it...*

"True inspiration is impossible to fake." That's another Inception quote for you. I think of it every time I try to write a blog post. I can't just write a blog post. I have to want to write a blog post. I have to be sitting somewhere, and suddenly, from a magical far off forest in which bunnies and unicorns romp, get the inspiration I need for a blog post. Otherwise, it sounds awkward and forced (to me, and maybe to you).

For example, please look back at my other blog posts and try to guess which ones came naturally and which ones I had to force. To me it's glaringly obvious.

My post about walks was so easy to write. I was on my way home thinking, "Hey, this is a great time I'm having. I should blog about it." My post about movies, on the other hand, is more awkward. I think the only way to get a reader to be engaged is to be engaged while writing, and I was definitely not engaged. For me, that post is frustratingly all over the place and painfully long and ramble-y. I was sitting at my desk, pressed for time, and under pressure to write something fun, creative, and interesting. It took me two hours which is, I think, way too much effort for something that should be fairly simple.

Sometimes I say things take two hours, and not really mean it because the short periods of work time are interspersed between longer periods of procrastination and Gmail chat. But I actually mean two, focused hours. Two hours staring at this very page I'm looking at now, nervously biting my nails and obsessively re-writing sentences until they were "better." It was a difficult and stressful experience, and I'd prefer not to repeat it.

As pretentious as I think this entry sounds, I had to write about it, because it was an idea I had that I couldn't shake. When I get an idea going, I enjoy writing about it. Instead of being a nervous and stressful experience, writing my blog becomes fun! It goes quickly and I don't get distracted because I'm excited and into what I'm writing. For example, at this very moment, my other tab keeps blinking, "Edward says..." "Tahar says..." but I can't look at it, because I'm too wrapped up in finishing this, even though normally I would be all over that distraction. 

Usually, when it comes time to write another blog entry, I put it off for as long as possible. I know that if I give myself more time, eventually inspiration will strike me and I won't be able to do anything else until my blog is finished. After all, "What is the most resilient parasite?"

An idea, of course.

(*I legitimately had no inspiration for this title. Ask Edward.)

I'm waiting for a train.

A train that will take me far away. I know where I hope this train will take me, but I can't know for sure. Hopefully it will be away from people who talk during movies.

I love movies. I watch them all the time. I quote them all the time. I try to make my life one as much of the time as possible. Every afternoon, when I come home from school, I do two things, always: get a snack and start a movie. If it's a movie I know very well, I can just listen and not watch. This makes it perfect for background noise as I do my homework. If it's a movie I don't know that well, or that I'm watching for the first time, I tend to sit there transfixed for two hours. No work gets done, but it's definitely an enjoyable experience.

I can't start a movie and not finish it. I feel sad, lonely, and incomplete. I can't handle people talking during movies. I'm trying to hear the dialogue for possible quoting opportunities, okay? We agreed to watch this movie, not to have a conversation during this movie. I can't concentrate on other things during a movie, unless I know it very well. I sit in my chair, hugging my knees, focused, with my mouth ajar, for two hours. Sometimes I might even drool.

I'll watch any type of movie. Action, drama, romcom, horror, animated, foreign films, anything. If you were to ask me what my favorite movies were, it'd be one of the most random collections. The only kind of movie I cannot stand, however, is one where everything goes wrong. They all usually follow the same pattern: start out promising, there's a misunderstanding -- or something trivial like that, and then the entire movie just flops for me. There's a very simple solution to this problem. It is not to wait until the end of the movie to reveal that there was a misunderstanding so that everything can magically return to normal. It is to admit the misunderstanding immediately and save an hour and thirty minutes of my time. I tried to think of a popular example, but I must have suffered through them so badly that I blocked them out of my memory once they were over.

My favorite place to watch a movie is, of course, in a theater. In a perfect world, I would visit a completely deserted movie theater every day after school. It would be great; I could get Sour Patch Watermelons, sit in the best seat (a middle row, a little to the right), laugh and cry as much as I wanted without anyone around to see. Unfortunately, I hardly ever go to the movie theater by myself, as that has been deemed "lame" by nearly all of my friends and family, nor do I have the 9 dollars to spend every day after school. The movie theater is never deserted, and I have to sob obnoxiously with everyone around me. This is particularly frustrating -- the Dobby death scene WAS sad, and that was NOT an overreaction.

If I see a movie, and I like it, I will watch it repeatedly. No exceptions. I saw Inception in theaters 8 times. I've watched it at my house many more than that. I'm watching it right now! Lord of the Rings, Spirited Away, The Prestige, Labyrinth, Pride and Prejudice, Clue, Help!, The Sting, Marie Antoinette, Ocean's 11... only a few examples of movies that I've seen upwards of 10 times. A lot of things can draw me to a movie. The most important thing would probably be the storyline, but in addition to that, the cast, the soundtrack, the costumes. There's even a period of time where I like every movie that I see. Eragon included -- and before Edward jumps on me, I'm not proud of that one.

Man, did this one get long, and I had so much more to say! I am beyond crushed, but I have made the decision not to continue this any longer. To sum it all up in three words, I love movies. The end!

Sitting in the dark, eating mixed nuts.

I am by no means a morning person, nor am I a night owl. There is nothing particularly great about the afternoon. No mysterious force draws me to the midday, or the early evening. In every twenty-four hour period there are countless ups and downs, and I can't bring myself to pick one time of day that I like the best. Thus, I classify myself as an "all day" person.

I love to watch the sunrise. I like to sit in a canoe on a quiet lake in the early morning and listen to loons and watch fish jump in the distance. I like to cook breakfast and eat it outside in an early morning breeze while perusing a magazine. Morning is a peaceful time, where everything should be soft and quiet, the graceful dip of the paddle in the water, the little pop of the toaster, the wind ruffling up the leaves, or the gentle turn of a magazine page.

I love to be lazy in the late morning and early afternoon. I like to sit on the couch in my pajamas and watch Grey's Anatomy with a cup of tea, not doing anything, not wanting or feeling like I need to do anything. As waking up to watch the sunrise usually results in a headache, this time of day usually brings an ibuprofen and maybe a quick nap.

I love to be "out on the town" in the afternoon. The afternoon makes me feel like I should be doing something. For me, it symbolizes activity. I don't mean hardcore partying in all of Chambana's hot spots, just being in a car. I like to go to the store, to the bank, or to a restaurant for a late lunch. I like to ride horses in the afternoon. I like to see my friends.

I won't say I love to be busy in the evening, because I don't, but I inevitably will be. While the afternoon is usually about frivolous activity, the evening, for me anyway, is about getting things done: homework, cleaning, the un-fun things. I'm not one of those people that can be productive at 11 AM, I always do everything I need to in the evening. I don't like to run errands in the evening, I don't like to be out -- it's getting dark and scary, and to me that means stay inside.

I love to stay up late. I don' t like to stay up late working, I like to stay up late without a reason to stay up late. I like to sit on my bed and read, the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack playing softly in the background (Colin Firth version only, please). I like to eat popcorn in the basement and watch the end of a good movie with my mommy -- it makes me feel like I'm in a secret club. However, perhaps most often, I usually like to find myself sitting in front of my laptop in the dark, munching on Planter's mixed nuts, now more than 50% peanuts!

Everyone should walk.

Last Saturday I was in dire need of a trip to the store.Thankfully, there's a Meijer about a mile from where I live. Granted, it's a Meijer that smells weird and has a couple of creepy people standing at the door to say "Welcome," but it's a Meijer nonetheless. My parents were out of town for the day, and being my lazy self, I have yet to obtain a job, and thus permission to obtain my drivers license. Sad. I settled on the only available option: walking.

I sent John off to play in the snow drift a couple houses down in the cul de sac with a folded up post-it note containing the top secret information that is my cell phone number and the garage door opening code in his pocket. I told him to use the back door if he wanted to go back inside, and left him with a final shout over my shoulder that I would be back in an hour or so because I didn't know how fast I would walk.

With the recent snow cover, there's absolutely no possibility of me walking on the sidewalk, even though I put some heavy duty, yet fashionable, snow boots over my spiffy Adidas windpants. The drifts would be no match for my mittens and stupid hat, a gem from my stupid hat collection, but I decided against it anyway. It would take a long time, and I didn't need to give the people driving by another reason to laugh at me. The first being my outrageously large, red sunglasses.

I was on a mission to obtain classified personal items: hair conditioner and contact solution -- but remember, that's top secret. I was rounding the corner, mentally prepared to completely zone out to some David Bowie, when my headphone cord froze. Awesome. This unforeseen lack of tunes allowed me to hear some running footsteps behind me, though. It was John. He walked with me past a couple of houses telling me about the army of robots that were laying siege on our house. He would have to walk along the little drainage river bank to get to the Russian HQ and ask them for more weapons, and he asked, "Is that okay?" Of course it was okay. I don't want any robots in my house.

Then I was alone. Usually, when I'm alone, I talk to myself. It's kind of dorky and weird sometimes if someone's listening outside my bedroom door, but I do it anyway. Being with other people can, and will, most of the time, annoy me to no end, and being alone freaks me out. So, talking to myself is a happy medium. It's very comforting. Unfortunately, after it snows, when the sun comes out, people emerge from their houses and start to shovel their driveways. In order to prevent myself from looking even more silly, I forbade myself from talking to myself. It's very sad when you have to resort to that...

Instead I thought about all the things I would do when I got home. I felt much more empowered to do the things that I had been dreading on the frozen tundra that is Stone Creek Boulevard than I had in my nice warm house. I would call so-and-so, I would give them a piece of my mind. I'd finally email whatsherface, I'd finally complete that one application. I thought about and drafted all the passive aggressive speeches I wanted to give, to people who were bugging me. I thought about what narration would be happening if my life was a movie. I thought about horses a little, how pretty the clouds are, and really what a great and amazing world it is that we live in.

When you get home after a walk, most of that disappears. You know you're never going to call so-and-so, or email whatsherface, or deliver those brilliant speeches, or make your life a movie. You even sort of forget how great the world is. You're just happy to be warm at home (whose armies have successfully pushed back the robot invasion), and excited to finally get to use your new Tresemme Naturals conditioner.

Blog post IN ACTION.

I'm sitting in a chair at my grandparents house, terrified and paranoid about when my next blog due date is. I'm always so confused, and I neglected to bring my syllabus along with my deceptively heavy organic chemistry text book and Dr. Paul Farmer, so I'll just get to it.

Did you know that the original aim of this blog was to share with you my bucket list? No, you probably didn't. That's where I came up with my title, and when it came time to write my first post, I was struggling with the choice between just making one post about my bucket list, and changing the title, or making the entire thing about my bucket list, and pick one thing off of it to write about every two weeks. Due to procrastination and pure laziness, I never really reached a decision. "How sad," you're probably thinking, and you're right! It is sad.

I don't think I'll be writing about my bucket list in that much depth. Sometimes it's very general, there's no particular order, and it contains things like "travel," and "change something." Change what? My oil, a diaper? I have no idea. Plus, it'll just make me sad, as things like that often do. But I'll share it with you briefly anyway!

1. Travel (everywhere). 
2. Ride an elephant.
3. Climb a mountain.
4. Eat eggplant chips.
5. Get over my fear of scuba diving.
6. See a polar bear IN ACTION; (I don't really know what "IN ACTION" refers to, but it's on this piece of paper so we'll go with it).
7. Write a book.
8. Change something.
9. Tame a wild horse.
10. Be a pescetarian.
11. Buy a cowboy hat. 
12. Get some personalized return address labels.
13. Finally listen to those awfully sad ASPCA commercials and donate money.

There's a lot more to it, but I stopped writing it down and they start to get really mundane and boring, very much like "get some personalized return address labels." Anyway, you'll probably see something on this list again, because I'll run out of things to write about and revert back here. I'd thought I'd write this one as sort of an "inbetween" post, so it can be short, but also suffice in case I missed something, but now I can use it to get ideas from. Awesome. B]

Nice, Crispy Bacon

I love to eat. Eating refers to the ingestion of food by humans, other animals, plants, and thingies to get nutrients so they can live, and grow big and strong. I, apparently, eat real funny-like. One friend I have looks forward to the days that I have chips in my lunch so she can sit across the room and laugh at me. In third grade, someone told me I ate like a cow, and in fourth grade, I ate like a camel. However, by sixth grade I taught myself to chew normally, and that soon stopped. I eat a lot. I eat crunchy foods, salty foods, sweet foods, hot foods, cold foods, and junk food. All the time. If I'm not eating, then I just ate, I just woke up, or I'm hungry.

For dinner I ate squash tempura, Japanese inspired, with a Jackie Harden twist. Basically it's deep fried squash. It sounds gross, but whenever I'm craving something, it happens to be that. You know those pregnancy cravings you're supposed to get when you're pregnant? Those are going to be so weird. I predict something like, cinnamon carrots, "nice, crispy bacon," red bean ice cream, and Sour Patch Watermelons -- which I always crave on road trips. It's really unfortunate, actually, they only sell them at certain gas stations. If I get really unlucky, I always opt for a rice krispy treat, snow caps, or a classic gas station slushie.

As much as I love to eat, I hate breakfast. It's weird for me -- when I wake up in the morning, I have no desire to consume food! It's such a foreign feeling. Fortunately, by the time I get to school, the feeling has passed and I'm ready to ambush Jason for one of his doughnuts. I really want one of those doughnuts, a cup of tea, and a blow pop.

Speaking of blow pops, I wish I had a lifetime supply at my disposal. Tootsie pops and blow pops are the only things that EVER keep me from biting my nails, a horrible habit of mine which I mentioned last time. Unfortunately, it's an awfully sugary alternative, and undoubtedly does terrible things for my teeth, but I just can't help it -- they're so delicious. Plus, the dentist says my teeth are great.

This is making me really hungry. Sometimes, when I get really hungry but feel like I shouldn't eat anything, I watch the Food Network. This is a terrible idea, in case you were wondering. It makes everything worse. One time, I was watching that show about private celebrity chefs or something -- it's really bad, don't watch it -- but they were making eggplant chips? Eggplant chips? EGGPLANT CHIPS? I almost died, they looked so deliciously crunchy and amazing and I wanted three plates all to myself. I requested eggplant chips for dinner the next day, and I was laughed at. Sad.

The eggplant chip phase passed. Unfortunately, it was quickly replaced with the chocolate pretzel phase, the miso soup phase, the red bean ice cream phase, the oreo phase, the blueberry phase, the twice baked potato phase, the pesto chicken breast phase, the ice cream phase (which is more of an all-the-time phase, but sometimes it becomes very pronounced), and my personal favorite, the seaweed salad phase.

I don't really know where I was going with this one. I'm just sitting here at my desk, looking at an empty bowl of ice cream wondering what I should eat next. I was thinking maybe some croutons, or baby spinach with strawberries, OR eggplant chips. Really want some eggplant chips...

I paint my toes because I bite my nails.

When I woke up this morning, I rubbed my eyes and slapped my cheeks to liven myself up a little more. I had a furious headache, but I always do when I wake up, so I ignored it. I put my feet on the ground, and cracked my toes, then my knuckles. I walked to the bathroom to wash my face, I looked in the mirror, (squinted, really, I wasn't wearing my glasses): I saw mostly messy hair, but also a pinky finger in my mouth. After washing my face, I went back to my room. I sat in the chair, turned on the computer, then leaned back. I crossed my legs. After about 20 minutes, I uncrossed them, and crossed them again the other way around. I cracked my knuckles, one by one. I checked my facebook. Bored, and drumming my fingers on my desk, I spied a pen. I picked it up. I put it in my mouth, and began to chew. Staring blankly at my facebook page, I leaned back in my chair and began twirling the messy hair around a finger.

Sound familiar? I hope not.

It turns out I posses seven out of eight of America's most common bad habits. How unfortunate. I only wanted to look up some information about nervous habits, my original aim with this blog post, and instead, I found something much worse. I opened up the trusty Google hompage, and found a list that seemed promising. Scrolling through it, I was just looking for nail biting. It was indeed on there, along with six other bad habits I apparently also possess, but never really thought about as being habits, let alone bad habits! Man, did I feel bad about myself, because in addition to being really annoying and incredibly unattractive to look at, there's actually loads negative health effects behind all of them... and the hits just keep on coming.

MSN tells us, (under the "Diseases and Conditions" tab, how encouraging), that the eight most common bad habits Americans posses are as follows:

1. Hair Twirling
2. Smoking
3. Teeth Grinding and Jaw Clenching
4. Nail Biting
5. Leg Crossing
6. Pen Chewing
7. Knuckle Cracking
8. Face Touching

Sound familiar? (I hope so, because I just wrote about them...) I don't smoke, I think I would know, but disregarding that one, I do everything on that list within the 10 minutes after I wake up. What does that mean for the amount of times I must exhibit these habits in a day? Terrible things. Not even great but terrible like Voldemort. Just terrible.

Hair twirling makes you go bald, jaw clenching and teeth grinding is probably responsible for all of my nasty headaches, not to mention the enamel wearing away on my teeth. Nail biting is gross and just plain unattractive, but at least I don't bite them down to the quick like others do, which leads to infection and the weakening of your nails. You can't really paint them, either -- nail polish isn't that tasty. Leg crossing? What? Well, apparently it leads to a boat load of nerve damage. Wonderful. Way to take away my favorite sitting position... and what do I like to do in that favorite sitting position? Chew on pens! But there's about 60,000 freaking germs on a pen cap! Knuckle cracking is just annoying to other people, but touching your face can lead to so many problems with your skin. Gross.

I've been advised by MSN to quit these habits immediately. How am I supposed to kick something that I've been doing every day for the majority of my life? I guess I should just off myself now, before I have to deal with baldness, losing my teeth, weak nails, nerve damage, an increased number of colds from all those pen germs, the angry mob outside my house who refuse to listen to me crack my knuckles anymore, or bad skin. Sounds like a pretty miserable existence... but there's still a lot of the world I want to see, and a lot people to piss off via knuckle cracking. So, too bad MSN, you're going to have to deal.

Go on, check out how many you possess, and how bleak your future's looking. You know you want to.