(Note: I originally tried to hide this from third parties, but because of the drama and hurt I caused with it, I’m putting it fully into the open. I better ready myself for deleting the spam comments. There will be a follow up blog or two to explain some actions. But you won’t see the full repercussions.)
Woah. Just woah. Where the hell have I been? Has it really been more than two weeks since I updated? Have I really said ‘ef it’ to everything online? Yeah, turns out. Somehow, I’ve ended up with only two public posts so far in May, which is a major turn around from my average of twelve, post-non-depression. Oh wait, I’m sorry, let me put that in layman terms: I posted a shit tonne when I was depressed and stressed with school. Now, I just sit in my room and internet around, or I’m flitting off with friends, having adventures and catching shit on fire.
Should I say that? Adventures and fire? Will that go against me? We’ll pretend it won’t.
All right, making a mad dash to fill in crap. Feel privileged–I haven’t even been writing in my diary because I’ve either been doing too much or just haven’t cared. I guess that’s what summer does to you. So, where do I begin? Well, I’m still unpacking (my room looks ganky as fack; I can’t wait for everything to be put in its rightful place), I’ve hung out with my friends literally every day for nearly two weeks, and I don’t have a job.
Let’s start with the friends department. We’ve been hanging out, catching up, blah blah blah: enjoyable. Some friends and I meandered to the Renaissance Faire today (kick ass, let me tell you), have made far too many trips to Main Street, and have had a few get togethers that have all either ended in a bonfire or watching a movie or both. Somehow, we end up adding gossiping like bitches and throwing dance parties into that mix, which then leads to trips to Steak and Shake in the dead of night. I don’t know how this happens.
Something I do know that happens, and will most likely happen until the end of time, is that our friends will find gossip and drama to parade around. Whether it be talking too much about the girls who are preggers or getting pissed off about not being invited to watch a television show that you don’t even like watching, we manage to claw at each other when backs are turned.
Now, I realise that this is just girl life (though how that ever became a standard, I’m unsure of), but damn it! Can’t some people just hide their bitch-card once in a while? For heaven’s sakes; I have a friend mad about not being invited to a small get together and another mad at me for eating a slice of pizza that I paid for. And then the smart Facebook statuses full of complaints about it? Really girls: get over it. We’re all bitches to each other, so don’t feel so hurt.
I sound really negative, maybe on the edge of upset, but I’m not. My mum even commented that I take social drama more maturely than anyone she’s ever met. I don’t let my emotions get involved, and it’s why I am rarely disappointed or upset or angered over things that happen. Not to mention that I accept the fact that I’m not everyone’s best friend and thus will not be invited to every little get-together. I accept that I make other people uncomfortable at dance parties and that you’re afraid to touch me (unless you’re Alex, who decided to-hell-with-it and gave me a four second-long lap dance at a party because everyone else was too intimidated by me. You win, Alex!). I’m fully aware that people say mean things behind others’ backs then smile at them ten minutes later. It’s kind of life, so I don’t get upset by this petty drama or how people treat me. Getting bothered seems like a waste of time.
I guess I’m just trying to say that I wish others didn’t feel the need to be so upset by such small things. No wonder heart-failure is so prevalent in this country: everyone is constantly moving fast and getting angry. We all need to chill; have a Meditation With Missi day. It will be glorious. I promise.
Meanwhile, no job. Not surprising, actually. With this economy, even my friend who has applied for seventeen jobs can’t manage to grab one (and she’s one of the workers people should fight over). You could say that I’ve given up without trying all that much. After all, the Historical Society must need me in order to bring me in, and without the need, you might as well sit back and think of other things. That ‘other thing’ for me has been painting. I recently decided to start a miniature painting business (as in, I paint you a crappy picture for twenty bucks that you’ll probably hang in your dorm room). It’s part hobby, part that I need the practise, and part summer job. Maybe I can paint enough to have a little spending money for the summer (like, an extra fifty dollars, yo). Nothing high-roller; I think of it more as bartering anyway. You get a painting, I get a full tank of gas. That sort of thing.
If you’re interested in purchasing a painting, let me know. I’m best at abstracts and landscapes. Give me the information, I’ll tell you size possibilities and prices. We’ll work this old school.
Anyway, I can’t find much else to say. This was more of a ‘let me fill you in and be a bitch along the way’ kind of blog. And to anyone who would be upset by anything said: please take some time to chill and not let little things ruin your life. You owe it to yourself.
Missi(world) 