Fuhball.

I'm not going to miss the Hail Mary passes.

The crazy 60 yard dashes.

The great sacks of the opposing qb.

I'm not going to miss the wins.

The losses.

The flip flop around the side plays.

What I am going to miss is the jerseys.

The way they feel.

The way they smell.

The way we help each other roll the sleeves and put on our cutest jeans.

I'm going to miss the bus rides.

The smell of a cool fall night.

The stocking hats that don't match anything we're wearing.

The sweatshirts under the jerseys, because we still need to rep our boys.

I'm going to miss the way I look at the boys.

The way I know each and every one of them.

The way I can look at their number out on that field and know who it is and yell for them.

The way I can dig up a story on everyone.

There's a sense of pride there.

Being able to say, I know that guy.

I've been riding buses, picking boogers, swapping stories, and maybe even a little tale of our own with that guy.

I remember when he wasn't such hot shit.

Back when he had braces, before his teeth were so gorgeous.

Before he learned how to make his hair look that nice.

Before he mastered the art of shaving.

Before he was that awesome guy, he was my dorky best friend.

That's why they're my boys.

That pride,

that's what I'll miss most.

I'll get over the smell of the grass on a Friday night.

I'll get over the sounds of a commute.

I'll even get over the jerseys.

But I'll always remember that pride.

I'll always remember my boys.

As long as I live.

HEY CARRIE, READ THIS ONE.(:

I been reading you blog.

A lot.

Like a creeper.

And I have come to the extremely depressing conclusion that I do not know you well enough.

I know, I know.

It's quite quite poopy.

:(

I need to hang out with you more often.

I don't care if that makes me sound like an annoying little girl, it's true.

You are way too cool of a person to not hang out with enough.

That is all.


The girl who needs to live more while there's still life to be lived,
Chrissy Dittmer.

Somnia squared.

So much for making this quick.

I just read Carrie Berry and Matt Davis's blogs.

IIIIII cried.

Mmmmhmm. Yup. True story.

Why? Well, let's see. In one year, Carrie and me will be going off to two completely separate lives. Complete with different cities, schools, people, friends, boyfriends, churches, sports, teams, inside jokes, and drinking buddies. And in one year, Matt Davis and his graduating class will have been on their fast track to greatness for an entire year while I'm still sitting out physics in Mrs. Kelso's class.

I fucking hate growing up.

I love my class. Really, I do. Some of them sincerely need to pull their head out of their ass, but I still love them.

I wish I knew them better.

I wish I hung out with them more.

I wish they knew that I would literally do anything for them.

I'm not kidding.

Anything.

I wish I never had to leave their sides.

Because, honestly, as much as they may think they need me to supply homework and tampons, I need them needing me more.

The real world ain't like this fishbowl town.

It's a whole damn ocean out there, and this little goldfish don't know how to handle all them sharks.

I'm exactly the type of girl who ends up goin to college and being the party girl.

Just living in her high school ways.

Doesn't know how not to be smiled at by everyone.

I'll be that wrinkly nasty ass you see at wal mart who thinks they're still as hot shit as they were back in high school.

Not that I wanna be, I just fit the MO.

Don't wanna leave.

Don't know how to leave.

Living in the past even though I haven't even made a past yet.

How pathetic is that?



Sincerely,
Thegirlwho'salreadystuckinayearthathasn'thappenedyet,
Chrissy Dittmer.

Note 5

I'm just a girl trying to make it.
I'm fighting the currents and battling my family's dragons.
Making tough decisions, working tougher jobs, seeing the toughest things.
I'll make it.
Just give me faith and give me time.

Somnia.

Okay, Imma have to make this quick. It's late, I don't have much time, but I got a lot on my mind.

Okay, this boy. He's got a name, but I'm not gonna say it. If you know me, you've heard me talk about him. Sorry if it gets annoying. He's just the first real thing that's been in my life that I can talk about, so just the fact that I can talk about him makes me feel like I should talk about him.

I know, that makes me a tool. Sorry.

Anyway. I like him. He likes me. Like, a lot. He's a sweetie. And a douche. But in a good way. And it's just so damn easy to smile at his texts. :)

But it's really effing hard for me to fall. It's really, really hard for me to just let the wall down and see what happens.

I've literally never done that before.

What will happen when I do?

Will I get smashed up? Just like when I tried last time?

The wall got halfway down, but that was all it took to get smashed to pieces.

But I can't blame my "exes" for my fear of wall tearing down-ness. That's on me. That's my bad. Shit happens, and it's my problem to deal with that. I can't peg other teenage guys with hormones and bad attitudes for that. They're just doin' what they're gonna do, and I need to buck up and take it.

Just like I need to buck up and take this.

I'm just scared. I've gotta quit fighting it, but I literally don't know how. I'm working on it. But when he says something cute, I don't think he understands how much it takes to say something cute back. No matter how much I want to say it, it's still hard. Because every little bit I give can be taken away; used to hurt me.

That much I know.

And I know I sound like a fuckin' baby, but I'm gonna do this.

I'm gonna make it work.

Can't sleep. Thinking about graduation. Trying to accept it so I can start moving on. But the thing is, I don't want to move on. I fucking love this damn place.

:)

Me: :) okay, nerdy question. Favorite superhero?
Him: Lmao oh my.. Uhm.. The hulk is green.. Thats pretty cool.. Ill go with that
Me: Lmao great reasoning. I can't even argue.. lol
Him: Hahahaha wooooo! :)
Me: ...but i still think Batman rules. lol :)
Him: Lol ahh i almost said that.. But i didnt wanna make the hulk angry..
Me: Because you don't wanna see him when he's angry.. lmao :)
Him: Lmao exactly! :)
Me: I'm literally laughing out loud right now. hahahahhaaa :)
Him: Lmao... You made me spit my pistachio!


I. love. my. life. ♥

I smell mash up numba cuatro a brewin'

Sitcho self down.

21

Maybe

just maybe

They don't want to talk to you.

Maybe

the reason they always seem to be busy is because you drive them effing berZERK.

Maybe

the reason they didn't get your text was because they were done talking to you.

Maybe

they snap all the time because you annoy them.

Maybe.

Or you just have rotten luck.

Whatever works, bro.

22

I just might do an emo Jr. High flashback right meow.

I just found out I have a MySpace app on my phone, and oh my gosh.

Talk about a throwback.

All of a sudden I'm thinking about A&E hoodies, when Jon first got pecs, when Carrie had braces, chatting using messages, bulletins for softball news, and all the shit with top friends.

Posting bulletins about that one guy calling me pretty. :)

...but then also finding out he was a tool.

Spanish class, vocal, shiny green fingernail polish...

YouTube comment wars with Dustin, Jen, JP, and Jon...

Designing layouts like crazyyy along with my website...

Discovering the joys of photobucket and being a size 1...

I remember thinking I would never drink and my first time would be prom night.

I remember thinking there was no life outside high school. Once you're a senior, time stops, and you get to revel in it for the rest of your life.

Some things never change.

23

Why is it that I'm waiting up for a text,

when I know you probably won't reply until morning?

Just for some reassurance, I guess.

A simple "Ya i will" would suffice.

Even a "Kk" would do.

I just want to make sure you got that message.

That message that says I give a damn.

That message that says I actually care.

But right now, you're toooo busy not caring.

But the thing is, I do actually give a damn, and I just want you to be kinda safe.

Love you. (:

24

Ohhhh, the guys in my life.

Gotta love 'em.

Sometimes I hate 'em.

But I just love the crap out of 'em.

The cousin, the best friend's boyfriend, the best friend's brother, the co-dictator, just the guys.

I love hanging out with the guys.

It's so fucking damn simple.

Food. Entertainment.

Blam-o.

Car talk, killin' zombies, blowin' shit up, swapping terrible jokes, yeah, it's definitely a blast.

But just because I love hanging out with the guys doesn't mean I want to be one of the guys.

What I want is to find that guy who wants the zombie killin', car talkin' girlfriend.

So far, I've gotten zilch.

A few guys have told me I'm an amazing girl with a kickass personality and any guy would be lucky to have me.

Yeah, well apparently only the ones with girlfriends already can recognize this.

Awesome.

25

Ranty gossip boy talk time? Yeah?

HOLLA.

So I guess this is ranty gossip boy talk time take 2.

Whatever. Okay, so what's new? Well, a lot, but basically nothing.

Still the only guy (or person at all for that matter) I regularly text is the same best friend guy that I enjoy talking to, hanging out with, talking about other guys with, etc. BTW, our convos are fucking hilarious. Like if they were monitored by Average Texts From Last Night everything we ever said would be on there.

The latest funny convo

Me: any more questions about boys? lol

Him: Whats a wiener

Me: lol. Ask a congressman

Him: Hahahahahhahahahahahahahahaa applause for 30 seconds

Me: :) Thank you, thank you

Him: still chuckling

Me: Haha that was rather clever wasn't it

Him: Like a blanket sewn to a kite

Me: ...beautifully said

Him: Indeed "sip"

Or who could forget the:

Me: Sorry I was in a meeting

Him: Me 2

Me: Really? What for

Him: Aids

Me: Rreeeeaaaalllllyyy

lolololol See what I mean? Just lovely ol' fun.

But what's new? Well an epiphany, that's what! Remember that duper cute boy that I talked about that's way out of my league and whatever? (According to Brotips, tho, when it comes to dating, there are no "leagues" but w/e. I think they're wrong on that one.) Yeah, he's just not that into me. Am I a little sad? Meh. It's whatever. Did he come right out and say that? No, but I just kind of woke up. You know how when you're looking at a picture of something and you're not quit sure what it is, so you keep staring at it, and then you figure out it's something really gross like all of a sudden? Yeah, it was kinda like that. Except it wasn't a really gross picture, it was just a simple realization. Now, does that mean if he randomly starts texting me now and wanting to hang out that I would shut him down? HAYAL NAH! Just because I wised up doesn't mean he's not still effin' smexy! Can't blame me for that. Nope, you just can't.

What else... Well around this time last year, I met this guy who I instantly liked. He was funny, mildly douchey, and had a crazy bad potty mouth. Naturally, I thought this was my guy. Well that didn't work out, mostly because he doesn't like to text, but I got to see him again this weekend and it was a lot of fun. :) Not like that! He's got a girlfriend now! But it was good to see him again. :)

Ahh I have shit on my mind, but it's mildly difficult to pour it on paper right now.

What's next? BFF's BF's BFF? Yup. Added him on the facebook. BFF keeps telling me I should go for that one because he's single now! And then she throws in a huge smile like 'yeahhh, girl!' Which is fine, when her boyfriend's not around. When he is, I feel like a creep. lol I know that prolly sounds dumb, but openly talking about this guy I don't even know when his best friend, aka my bff's bf is right there just makes it awkward. I think. But anyway, I fb added him. :) At least now he's aware I'm alive. lol. Should I talk about him a little? Well I don't know much about him. He's cute, I know that. He has an adorable smile. But all of his prof. pics suck ASS. He's good at basketball and track and BONUS he's got an International truck he restored. Can you say swoon? *sigh*

Well anywhos, omg I can't believe I'm freaking out this much about this guy.

It's midnight. It's Jen's birthday, actually. I am blaringly tired. Unless I think of something else I need to write about, I think I'm out for the night/morning.

Kloveyoubye.♥

26

hehe(:

I think I may have found exactly what I gave up on finding.

He's not douchey or an asshole, which for me is friggin amazing.

Instead of constantly bragging on himself, he called me cute and sent smileys.

He's the old car kind of guy.

We talked car shows. At that point, I was freaking the EFF out. :)

Is it possible?

Is this guy who likes Disney movies and '66 Stingray Corvettes for real?

Is he really letting me be a bro that's more than a bro?

Now all I can think about is that next text. :)

FINALLY.♥:)

27

Bro: Hey btw if this josh dude turns out to be a douche dont be surprised if i attempt to beat the fuck out of him

Me: Lol it's JAMES, And I appreciate the offer :)

Bro: Tis what bros r for and what i call him

Oh, bro. Bahaha :)

That's it. My past couple weeks. Ba-blam.

Love, Chrissyjoy♥

Super.

Rant.

Okay, while on facebook today, I became severely distraught.

My friends, some that I have known since literally the first day of school 12 years ago, some that I haven't known as long but are still a lot closer with, are getting their senior pictures posted.

Seriously, guys? Fuck!

Couple things wrong with this:

1) We should not be this close to leaving each other forever
2) Why are you guys so damn fucking gorgeous??

I'm not ready to leave here. I'm not ready to leave you guys. I'm not ready to move on, go to college, actually decide what to do with the rest of my fucking life.

But every time I try to enjoy what little time I have left here, my fucking parents go all Nazi ass on me. "Oh you don't do enough work at home to go do anything." Fuckin' LIE right there. You call 6, 7, 8 hour days working outside when BOTH of your lazy old asses are inside because it's too damn hot not working enough?? And NEWSFLASH: 16 year old kids are SUPPOSED to never be home. They're supposed to go to work, go to play, stay up late, ignore the SHIT out of you and lie about where they've been all night, because they've actually been OUT all night.

I shouldn't have to lie about going on a road trip, or making a wal mart run.

I shouldn't have to come home at 7:45 because my fucking mother got a wild hair up her ass.

ESPECIALLY when I told her that I would be home at 10:15 and all we were doing was watching movies.

And another newsflash: dude, I don't fuckin' drink! Why? I never know where the goddamn party is! If I DID know where it was, maybe I WOULD go, just so you guys would have a REASON to call me irresponsible and a rebel child.

You want a rebel child? I'll fucking show you a rebel child.

Shit.

Scrumptious.

Why is it that horoscopes are ALWAYS. FRICKIN. RIGHT?

Seriously? Cosmo told me that towards the 29th I would have an epiphany that the kind of guys that I always fall for (including the one I most recently have) are so not good for me.

No matter how much I would frickin love it if they were.

I mean, really. What girl wouldn't frickin love that.

Scrumptious.

Anyway, it was right.

I was blind.

Ugh. I hate this part.

When you realize you were stupid the whole time for hoping for something that wasn't even there.

No matter how much you wish it was.

no matter how much you wish it was.

So, I'm trying something new.
Blogging by text.
Hhhoo, buddy. Back up.
I don't really have much to say, but it's true.
I miss you, and can't wait to see you.<3

mash-up numba tres.

Holla.

15

I'm going to take this time to write my brains out.

Currently, it is 12:03 Wednesday morning.

Today, I have shit to DO, but no people to screw.

Frowny face?

Even if I wasn't going to screw anybody, having someone that I could potentially screw if I wanted to without being a scurvy little slut would be nice.

So this guy. He's cute. I wish I saw him more often. Well, I kinda can't know for shitty reasons. :( I have like zero balls. Which is good because I have a uterus, and having both would make me a hermaphrodite. But I need some girl balls, because I really wanna text him, or at least talk to him because he's effing hilarious and awesome, but he's a little out of my league. Is he really? Is it just my imagination? Does he want to text me? I s he incapable of texting me? Did he and I just never got it so he never did again? Am I pathetic? (Don't answer that one.) Of course I am, look at me! What the hell? What's the worst that could happen by texting the guy first? He doesn't reply? He looks at his phone and says, "Yeah, I don't want to talk to you." Then clicks ignore? Tells his best bud that you're annoying? Okay, that would only happen if you did it all the time. I think.

Honestly, though, I have a pretty good track record.

Never once been turned down.

Probably because I've never once made the first move.

Okay, lie.

Freshman year, my bff told me this guy liked me. I already knew because it was mildly obvious, but I called him out on it (via YouTube, because we were SO cool) and we ended up dating. For a whole day. Almost. He chickened out. lol. Why? Because we were/are really good friends and he was afraid to screw that up. I still kinda wonder what could have been there, but we're just just friends.

So maybe I have been turned down.. *ponder*

No, because we did cross that line, we just jumped right back over.

Hahahahahahahhaahaaa oh my gosh that's so effing freshman.

But it's weird, not liking him like that anymore.

My head keeps telling me I should just out of habit. Like I'll drive by his house and check if his truck's there just out of habit. I'll see a truck like his and automatically check to see who's driving. Little things.

But then there's this other guy.

He's super sweet, he's funny, and all my friends think I should date him. He's available and he probably would, and he's not a bad catch. Why won't I?

Hell if I know.

Pros:

Smart

Funny

Adorable

Tall

Athletic (kinda)

Likes me enough not to punch me in the face

Cons:

Younger

Too nice? Is that even a thing? Yup. He's just not assholey enough for my taste, I guess.

What the hell. He's obviously the better pick between this one and the one that's out of my league, but ehhhhh! That one is just so damn cute. And I'm pretty sure he tried hitting on me when he was drunk. Sure, he's a flirty drunk, but shtiiill.

Shit, I'm tired. And hashing out why I feel the need to date assholes is exhausting.

I'm not the only girl who thinks the asshole quality is attractive, though, I have talked to my friends about that.

Problem is, I attract the freaks more than I attract the assholes.

Seriously, every guy in our school that people make fun of has made a move on me.

Every. Single. Freaky. One.

The annoying one?

Check.

The gross ass?

Check.

The wrecking ball?

Check.

You name it, they've asked me out.

Or at least tried.

There was one point where I was turning down freaks on a weekly basis. It was quite exhausting work.

My bff tells me it's my birthin' hips that attracts them.

I wouldn't be surprised. After all, more primitive males are attracted to qualities that promote easy birthing and fertilization.

Sorrry if that just creeped the shit out of you. :/

However, my guy friend told me it's because I'm too damn nice.

Ohhkayyy, so I'm supposed to be a bitch if I want to attract normal guys?

I'll get right on that.

But I don't wannaaa!

I wanna be that cute, sweet, fishing, COD playing, sammich making, mushroom hunting, beer drinking, barefoot in the crick, braids and fingernail polish girlfriend.

I just need a guy who can let me be that.

I don't wanna invent Mr. Right, because Mr. Right will never happen. I want to meet real guys with real lives and just go with it.

That's really all I want.

Someone who I can talk to and be completely me with.

100%.

And he better freakin' accept Hector.

That's Hector.

15 (again. whoops.)

Who are you?

What do you stand for?

Yeah, you're good looking.

Yeah, you're bffs with my bffs bf.

Yeah, that would be effing perfect.

But I don't know you.

Does he talk me up as much as she talks you up?

Have you facebook stalked me?

Not gonna lie, buddy, some of your profile pics are pretty damn terrible.

You know what?

We should hang out.

Just us four.

Even if we end up not being all cute and lovey dovey, it would still be fun.

Two and two.

Four.

:)

16

AH I miss your sexy face.

Dude, I haven't fallen this hard for a guy since... seventh grade?

And hhhoooo buddy.

That one took 3 years to completely wear off.

That was bad.

This? This is good.

You're cute. I'd like to think I'm cute.

You're smart. I'm a fucking genius. ;)

You're funny. I've been known to crack a joke.

Best: There is something there.

I can tell. I can feel it.

Just when we walk next to each other, I can feel it.

I can't quite figure you out, though.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, sure, but DUDE. Not that much distance.

That just makes the heart go effing insane.

But don't mind me.

Don't mind me when I work up the balls to do what you never did.

Text.

It's quite easy.

And I think I'm gonna do it.

I just don't know what the fucking hell to say.

Things I need right now:

Motivation and confidence.

Then we'd be set.

17

imnotgoingtopostthisone.

18

This game

sucks to watch

with you right there

talking laughing dishing stories

but then theres the guys

trying to fish stories I dont wanna hear about

I dont

I just dont

I do want to hear you laugh

have fun

uh, I dunno, talk to me?

maybe?

yeah?

Schweet.

19

Take me by the tongue

and I'll know you

kiss me till you're drunk

and I'll show you

May be my new jam.

But I want you to learn the words.

I want you to know my favorite jams.

My best colors.

I want you to know how I'm feeling by the way I smile.

So I'm going to fight for that right.

I'm gonna grow some balls and figure it out.

I will.

:)

Theeee eeennnddddd.♥

Don't judge me too harshly. In fact, just don't judge me at all.

Loooove, Chrissykins♥

Sly.

You know, it's kind of like breaking up with a long term boyfriend after things get really shitty.

He takes up drinking too much.

You want to punch him every time he talks.

Yet it still kinda hurts to say goodbye.

Just because of all those times you had together.

Back when it was good.

Back when it was cool.

Back when it was fun.

Well it's not fun anymore.

It's actually more of a hassle.

You're sick and effing TIRED of it, and you just can't wait to get away.

Just can't wait to get away.

Well it's hard.

You don't want to admit to yourself that those good days are over, but what else is there to do?

Wait around and ruin your life now for the fun you had before?

No, that's definitely not worth it.

Get away.

Run away if you have to.

Put the shit your rear view and put the good in a picture frame.

That's all it's good for now.

Spain trip mash-up.

So I wrote a little blog like things in my journal when I went to Spain.

Here they are, lover butt:

1

You suck dick.

You NEVER-

fuck.

Whatever.

I'm done.

2

Am I crazy, or are you?

Are we crazy, or are they?

Do I make you smile?

Do I cross your mind every now and then?

Do you wonder things?

Yeah, I don't really care a ton.

I just think you're cool. :)

3

Words.

Use them.

Feel them.

Notice them.

String them together,

like beads on a string.

Tape them together,

make them ring.

I know you don't talk much,

about things quite like this,

but I just want to know what

your real thinking is.

I'm not a hater.

I'm not here to judge.

I just want to know what

you think about pudge.

Who cares if you're crazy?

Who cares if I'm insane?

Is anyone really, truly, surely, soundly, impeccably, irrevocably, plain?

I don't care if you're purple,

I don't care if you're green.

I just want to know what

your reality sees.

Maybe I'm purple.

Maybe I'm green.

Maybe I'm one big farting machine.

Maybe we're the same,

maybe we're not.

But how will we know unless the true wordage is sought?

Dondee.

Okayloveyoubyeee♥

--Chrissy

Girl balls & band aids.

I don't know if you've heard this, but the real world sucks.

I feel like absolute shit right now.

Why? Hell if I fucking know.

I just got a haircut, I am rockin' the shit out of these sweatpants, and I'm shipping off to Spain in three days.

Life should be good.

But it's not.

Today was my last day of junior year. I haven't cried yet, so that's good. But I got a fuggin D+ on my history test.

I'm not even going to make excuses.

Oh, believe me, I could make some damn good excuses.

But it's over.

Overoverover.

Donde.

But I feel like shit about it. It brought my damn grade down. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Shit.

OHFUCKINGWELL. Who needs salutatorian? PSH! Not this girl! Nah! I'm student body president! I don't need that shit! NAH. Donde. Over. Can't change it now anyways.

But still.

Fuck.

One test just shot my GPA to shit. One. Damn. Test.

College is going to break me. I can tell.

I just feel like eating ice cream and watching a kick ass action movie and bawling my face off tonight.

So much is over as of today.

Band. Anatomy. Math. The class of 2011. The illusion that we still have time left.

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to myself for my graduation day. It was an English assignment. I'm going to miss that class a lot, too. We have a shitton of fun in there. I think I'll post the letter up in a minute. I cried while I wrote it. It was kind of funny talking to a couple of the boys about it, though. They seemed amazed that anyone could talk to themself for 7 almost 8 pages single spaced and cry in the process. Oh, boys. Gotta love 'em.

I really do love hanging out with the guys. They're so much fun. It's games, sammiches, cut and dry everything. Nothing to hide, no gray areas, just plain, black and white fun. That is, when they're not making me bleed or beating me up.

Not on purpose!

Okay, they beat me up on purpose, but legit injuries are all purely accidental.

Anyways, yeah. I'm in a very sentimental sort of mood.

I bet this is why teenagers get drunk all the time.

Being a teenager can suck ass.

Most of the time.

It's a wonder not everybody in the world is a drunk.

I wonder if a little Jack and SoCo really help.

If they do, it's really a wonder not everybody's a drunk.

Yay, life.

sunglasses.

Yep.

Be jealous.

Goal like aspirations.

Someday.

You hear that a lot.

Someday, I'm going to be rich and famous.

Someday, I'm going to own a huge ass house.

Someday, I'm going to own a sweeeet ass sports car. Or seven.

Someday, I'll go to Africa and help the sick people.

Someday, I'll pull a Mother Theresa and be a tiny ninja bad ass lady with huge hands and the Big Guy on my side.

Someday, I'm going to travel. See the world without a care in it.

Someday, I'll have wrestling mats in my basement.

Someday, I'll see a real live ice cream truck.

Someday, I'll loose this weight.

Someday, I'll actually keep my diet going.

Someday, I'll quit caring.

Someday, I'll grow up.

Someday, I'll get a job.

Someday, I'll actually get my ass in gear.

Someday, I'll beat the SHIT out of that little priss.

Someday, I'll tell the people close to me what they actually mean to me.

Someday, someday...

Someday, maybe we could talk this out.

Use our words.

You know, like blah blah blah. Yeah, but better.

Someday, we'll be chill.

Yeah.

Right about the same time I become a bad ass vintage hipster starving artist chick backpacking across Europe and start figuring out where I want to settle down after my escapades.

Someday, I'll be amazing.

And I rreeeaaaally want you to see it happen.

♥

Deuces.

Shit boy
you makin' me cry

This ain't like me
I dunno why

I'm blubberin'
flubberin'
makin' a fool

actin' crazy
hazy
pitiful tool

just quit tryin'
leave me alone

get on your way
and let me go home

we can't be friends,
that won't work

it's all or nothing,
hate to be a jerk

Wake up, boy
smell the roses

put your life together
until then

deuces.

Conspiratic Thoughts.

Rasta rasta
brasta pasta
pink and white
black and red
yellow and green
it's a scheme
I can't believe
what this means
it's you it's you
it's all so you
this and that
that and those
these and thats
and everything else
all they say is
I
love
you♥

Mash-up numba dos?

Yep.

AND IT SHALL BEGIN!

6

I'm done blaming you.

You will be you.

Cocky. Blatantly good looking. Player.

It's all on me now.

It's my fault I let you drag me on.

It's my fault you have such control over me.

I don't like this. Obviously.

There is hardly a happy medium.

But is that your fault?

Nope. It's mine.

My stupid ideas of the perfect high school romance.

My stupid notions of the best friend boy friend.

None of this is on you.

I'm just learning.

Living and learning.

Picking up the pieces and putting them in a basket.

Someday soon that basket will be full again.

Promise.

7

You may not know this, but you are an amazing person.

SO amazing, in fact, that I am blatantly jealous of you most every day.

You are pretty, smart, funny, smart, talented, and way more confident than I could ever be.

And when you think you aren't good enough, it makes me sad.

Because you are.

You are better than good enough, YOU, my dear, can take on this WHOLE DAMN WORLD any day of the week while wearing heels and a push-up bra.

Never doubt it for a second, darling.

You are amazing just the way you are.

You deserve better than what you give yourself.

Those grades, that college, hell, even that boy.

Don't settle.

You CAN do amazing things if you just believe in yourself a little bit.

I can't wait to see what you'll accomplish in your life, and I really hope I'm there to see it. :)

8

Boy, I wish that I actually had the balls to ask you this in person, but can I get yo' numba? ;)

Truth is, I think you're cute.

Cuter than cute.

Quite steamy, actually.

And every once in a while you pop in my mind and I smile.

I just love talking to you.

You are pretty darn hilarious, and I'm really going to miss our conversations.

I kinda don't want to stop having them, seeing as how much I enjoy them.

..and how much you enjoy them, too. Face it, you can't hide that smile. :)

So for the sake of intelligent conversations;

boy, you should give me your number. :)

9

Journals have always been hard for me.

Required ones anyway.

Well... any of them, really.

What if someone were to break into it?

I need more locks!

More keys!

More rubber bands!

More precautions!

Lock up the keys that lock up the diary!

Hide the diary!

Hide the locked up keys!

Hide the keys to the locked up keys!!

Nowadays, I've given up on secrets.

All they do is push people away.

But I still have trouble actually writing a diary.

I can write poems, stories, articles, essays.

I can draw it out.

I can photograph what I think.

I can plan everything to make the perfect artistic statement, but just saying what I think can just be so exhausting sometimes.

I can't just call you out.

I can't just call her beautiful.

I can't just call myself fat.

I can't just tell you how sorry I am.

I can't just tell him I like him.

Yet, I have no problem writing this down, explaining how I can't explain.

Irony at it's FINEST.

Words eating words, like vegetarian cannibals.

10

Don't look at me like that.

I know what I'm doing.

I know it's bad for me.

I know it'll make me feel like SHIT in a few hours.

But right now, I love the way it feels.

I love that buzz.

I love how it makes me warm up.

I love how half the time I can't control myself.

I love the seconds of hilarity.

I know it hurts me.

I've been there. Ready to barf on Saturday morning.

It's broken me countless times.

But I'm addicted.

I'm addicted to it.

And then there's the alcohol.

11

What's the MATTER with me?

I'll want something SO BAD, and then I'll chicken out.

I don't need it.

I don't want it.

Not worth it.

What bull shit!

I really need to cowgirl the fuck up and do it.

Git 'er done.

Ask for that number.

Go hang out with them.

Make my own rules and deal with the consequences.

Make mistakes and learn from them.

But I can't do that with you.

You are holding me back.

You plan too much.

Who effing cares? We're 17 and it's summer!

We do what we want now.

This is officially OUR summer.

MY summer.

This IS my summer.

This is MY summer.

This is my SUMMER.

Last chance, Harvey.

Final curtain, Bruce.

I want to make mistakes.

And I want the courage to make them COUNT.

∙∙∙∙∙∙∙∙Same rules apply as the last time. Not all of this is legit. Some is, yes. Some was me with a pen writing words on paper. Don't read too much into it. Unless you want to, that is. Haaa :)

♥chrissyface

Sassy.

Reasons why I don't give a shit about it anymore:

1. Up until I quit giving a shit, I had to work much much much harder to have a speck of fun.


2. Worrying is a waste of time that I don't have.


3. I am me, and I'm good with that 95%. The other 5% is my extraordinary freak magnet of a personality.


4. I have to start living.


5. I need to have stories to tell my kids/grandkids.


6. I need to have stories to tell myself.


7. I feel like if I don't go out and have the perfect perfect rest of my high school career, I will hate myself for the rest of my life.


8. Coulda woulda shoulda. I already have enough of those, I don't need any more.

Shit will happen when shit wants to happen, because hitting the fan is what shit does best.

Shit.

mash-up.

The following are a collection of mini-works I wrote down on paper-paper. Like tree paper. I know, crazy.

Welp, here goes nothing.

1

Have you ever met somebody that you absolutely shouldn't date, but you would be perfect with if you did?

Yep. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

That, "I'm fire & you're gasoline, I'm no good for you, you're no good for me," one.

That perfect demon with dark brown eyes and amazing hugs.

Fact: I want him in my life forever, in a completely non-creepy stalker way. I never want to forget him. I never want to quit talking to him or quit hanging out with him because he is one of my closest best friends ever.

Ever ever.

Fact: He has no idea what he wants out of life, so I'm basically his constant. No matter what happens, whatever shit he gets himself into, I'm always on the sidelines with a smile, ready to clean it up.

Fact: He messes with me. Simple as that. Does it bother me anymore? No. Does it happen? Yep.

Fact: I don't want that anymore. Haven't for a while. We are just. Friends. Know that now.

I'm not kidding. Some people say that if you're that close of friends with a person of the opposite sex there has to be something going on. Negative, Hoss. I disagree greatly.

Fact: If things were to go there again, would I stop it? No, probably not. Whatever happens happens. Would I try to slow it down? Yes I would.

I was moving on.

I was getting my shit together.

And shit happens.

As shit tends to do.

2

I hate that I hate this.

This;

This is perfect.

I love this.

Carefree.

Fine.

I hate that I feel like it's not enough.

What's wrong with keeping it here?

You obviously think it's enough.

If only I thought that way.

If only I didn't want to barf after hanging out with you.

I don't mind being drug into this friendship, as long as that's really what it is.

I really really really just want to MOVE. THE. FUCK. ON.

I can.

I know I can.

I have.

But dude, we have got to tart talking about what's going on here.

We have got to talk.

I don't care what happens.

As long as we're clear.

If we're clear, we're good.

I'm good.

Maybe.

3

Lyrics of Space Bound by Eminem.

Look 'em up.

Learn 'em.

Love 'em.

They are truth.

Life.

Lyrics of 25 to Life by Eminem.

Look 'em up.

Recite them.

Study them.

Rehearse them like Shakespeare.

Because that's what he is to me.

Modern day Shakespeare.

Telling shit like how it flies.

Play by play as it hits the fan.

'Cause, baby, it does.

4

I'll be the Megara to your Hercules.

I'll be the Mulan to your Shag.

I've always liked those couples best.

The kick-ass girl, and the muscular, fiiiiiiine-ass guy.

Yup.

I wish I could be one of them.

Meg. Is. Gorgeous.

Gorgeous. Headstrong. Lovable. And best of all:

gets Hercules.

Win.

I wish I could be Mulan.

She's so real.

Smart. Down to earth. Badass. And best of all:

gets Captain Lee Shang.

Win. OMG win.

5

I love you but I can't.

I can't do this again.

But I want to so bad.

I know you're just yanking my chain,

but what if you're not?

What if I miss out on you again?

I wanna know what it would be like.

You know, being official with you.

Probably the same as it is now.

Except less awkward and more cute.

But I can't.

Nope. I can't do that to myself.

A huge quick buildup for months of let down.

Fml.

∙∙∙∙∙keep in mind, none of this is necessarily the truth. Words come out on paper. A lot of them I don't mean. They're just beautiful to me.

♥me

The Request

Neil Hewitt.

Singer.

Small town Iowa country singer who kicks. Ass.

My favorite song of his: The Request.

I'm tired of bein' someone's second best.

I'm sick of countin' on promises never kept.

And I've been thinking about burnin' all the bridges to my past.

Hey cowboy, have you got a song like that?

Lovely. Ass. Ride.

I have no idea why I said ride at the end of that, but I like the ring of it. A lot. I may even start saying that.

But it's just another song that the lyrics remind me of some guy.

Just some guy that I know extremely well that I would do just about anything for,

Well, anyway, shit happened in the past, and I would love to just burn those brides down and just move my happy ass along.

Just like I been doin'.

Just like he has some kind of problem with letting me do.

It's like I'm his safety, his back up, his eternal rebound.

And wow, this blog is getting a tad personal.

My apologies.

It's whatever.

He's whatever.

Shit happens.

Shit will continue to happen as long as I'm alive.

But one thing is for certain;

I am no longer going to just let things fly by that I could have done.

I will be doing whatever I see fit at that exact moment, and if I regret it later, I'll just remind myself that at that exact moment,

it was exactly what I wanted.

Peace.

It's full of fuel & I just lit the fuse.

She moved on and I feel bad for you, because she thought you were the most amazing boy ever.

If she could have had any guy in the world,

she would have chosen you.

She thought you were different.

She was wrong.

You're just another guy to her now.


I. Love. That.

Not a single name was mentioned, but I bet you have someone pictured in your head right now.

That one that never really worked out, even tho if it would have, it would have been perfect.

Maybe.

But that's all in the past, and now everybody's friends with everybody.

Then maybe at some point he realized what he lost when he decided to let it fall apart.

He's blowin' up your phone again, hanging on your every word again, and that's sooooo not what you want anymore.

The best part of being around each other is just being friends.

Now he's just another guy.

One of the fish in the sea you've already met.

Been there.

Done that.

Figuratively, of course.(;

And now we both move on.

Sassafrass.

You know how easy it would be for me to just use you like the tool you are and just walk away?

Don't even act like that's not what you're planning anyway.

But now that we both know we're playing the game, it's getting much more interesting.

Who's going to get there first?

Who's going to win?

And how will we tell who won when/if we get there?

But I don't want to stoop down to your pathetic little level.

I'm better than that.

I'm classy.

I'm smart.

I'm funny.

And I can do a hell of a lot better than you.

I think you know that.

I think that's why you're trying so hard to keep me hanging on.

Dude, you've been at this for, what, two years now?

I thiiiiink you either need to step up your game for reals or just call it quits.

And I kinda don't want you to step up your game for reals.

Yeah, you're awesome. And yeah, I love being your friend, but it's best if that's it.

I've finally made peace with being your best friend Jill, chillin' on the sidelines and telling you when to calm down and when to do your homework and when to do mine.

I'm good with that.

You should be, too.

(insert random picture)

BB Queen & Alicia Keys.♥

It's that kind of day.

I woke up at, what, 6:20? On a Saturday, mind you. Anyway, it was a completely shitty day. Fog all over the place, and worse, I had to go take the ACTs.

Whoop whoop? No.

Well, there were a bunch of my cronies there, so that was good.

And we went out to get Arby's afterward.(:

I love roast beef.

Nom nom nom.

Well, now, it is the most gorgeous day I'm pretty sure I have ever seen in my entire life.

Legitimately.

I even got a little burnt. :)

I LOVE SUMMATIMEEE.C:

But I'm still stressin a little.

Trap.

I'm terrified of it for some unknown reason.

I really can't figure it out.

It's not like I'm afraid of guns, hell, I'm more afraid of spiders.

Maybe I'm afraid of looking like a tard?

But that happens literally EVERY day of my LIFE.

Not a new situation to be afraid of.

I have actually come to the conclusion that I'm just afraid of anything I haven't done before.

Which is stupid, irrational, and will get me, hmmmm, NOWHERE in life.

Even things that I really really want, I'm terrified of until I've done it a few times.

Buying/using my new shiny camera for one.

On the way there, I almost said forget it, I don't need it, I don't need to go into photo journalism, I'll just be a hobo, it's a'ight.

Yeah, I'm a douche.

Okay, Imma put a picture on here and that'll be all for today. :)

Byeeee,

Chrissylove♥

Imma be rollin on that coaster.

In. Sane. Day. Numero uno, it is Goat Day.

April 1st every year our FFA chapter has this fundraiser where we send this goat around and you have to pay to get rid of it, send it on to someone else, or just sit with it for 20 minutes. This year it was CRAZY fun, because I was in a truck with some really great girls and we had some killer convos. :)

Numero dos, it is the night of the Spanish Club lock-in.

Yeah. Skipping. My main friends all decided not to go, and the other people in the club I'm definitely not tight with. Awwwwkwarrrrd much. I did pay 5 bucks and say I would go, but AM I? NEGATIVE.

Numero tres, play practice.

I totally forgot my book and felt like a douche cake. But it was very fun, and I'm loving my character to death! :)

Numero cuatro, tomorrow. Is. Hell.

1. State trap meet.


2. 4H trash pickup.


3. Agronomy banquet.


4. Work.

Trap.

Didn't know about until this morning. Have I been to a practice yet? Nope. How many practices have I known about so far? 1. What day of the week was it? Wednesday. How many other things do I have to do on Wednesday nights? 3. Literally EVERY WEDNESDAY. I HATE myself for missing so much. I really really really do. I paid to do this. I got other people involved in it so that we could have a killer girls team. I got so many people pumped for this, and what have I been doing? JACK SHIT. Ugh, it's the WORST feeling in the world to know that you have let someone down. I HATE it SO MUCH. I'm just glad the coaches aren't complete bastards towards my latest slacker-attack. I love sweethearts. God bless them.

4H.

I love 4H. Okay, that's kind of a lie. The organization of 4H as a whole isn't all that great. When FFA kids talk about doing something against rules, we say to wear a 4H shirt. That's how it goes. Especially at the state fair. OMG aggie kid rivalry up the hizzy, I swear. In some towns (not in mine, because everyone's an aggie) there are SEVERE rivalries between the FFA chapter and the 4H clubs, because apparently fake aggies are in FFA and the real ones are in 4H (according to the 4Hers), but 4H is for all the straight laced little pansies and FFA is where all the fun happens (according to the FFAers). I see the views from both. But I'm in both, so it's whatevskies. :)

Anyway, we're having our annual 2 mile trash pick up tomorrow at two o' clock. Yippeeee! Last year we found a SCURVY ass can, and when you got anywhere near it, it smelled like death/feces/armpit/truck stop bathroom. You guessed it, it was a spitter. Yay, people who chew and throw their spitters out of their window. I hate you on so many levels.

Agronomy.

My sister is majoring in agron up at ISU, so this is allllll her thing. It starts at 5:30. We have to leave home at 3:30. That leaves me like an hour ISH to be at 4H before I have to leave to go home and take a shower before going up to *insert redneck accent here* that there big timin city, there. */redneck accent*

Work.

Why can't money just go die in a hole someplace?

Along with janitorial work.

Who needs dirt?

I mean, for purposes other than planting things in.

Whatever.

I'm going to go do what I actually enjoy.

Edit some of my photography and attempt to explain to my inept parents how much it actually means to me.

And if you actually read all this, I freaking love you.

Lovelovelovelovelove,

Chrissyface♥

Arabian Jesus.

• Why is it soooo hard to picture Jesus like he probably actually was?




• Have you ever seen a picture of a dark complected Jesus with Arabic qualities?




• I most certainly have not. I have seen pictures of ginger Jesi, cleanly shaved Jesi, Norwegian Jesi, but never a Middle Eastern Jesus.




• What is this???




• Yes, I realize that this is Jesus Christ, our Savior! Son of God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth! But do we have to act like he was something he's not?




• Okay, Jesus is, like, everything. Can we agree on that? He's pretty much a straight up baller.


• But, seriously, guys, he was Arabic.




• Let's face it, he probably even had a unibrow.




• It's not like they had the facial hair grooming tools we have today.




• Isaih 53:1 ish says, "There was in Him no stately bearing to make us look at Him. No appearance that would attract us to Him. He was rejected and avoided by men."




• There was in Him no stately bearing to make us look at Him.




• No appearance that would attract us to him.




• He was rejected and avoided by men.




• Yet, most of the Jesi I have seen look like they could double as Abercrombie models.




• I don't really know what to make of this, I just wanted to talk about it.




• Think about it.




• You don't want to be surprised when/if you get to heaven & you're looking for Jesus but instead keep pestering ex-Abercrombie models.




• That would be embarassing.




• Peace, love, & Jesus.






• Chrissy

Spring Play2011

I MADE SHIRTS.

I do this when I'm procrastinating.

It's an illness.

I think you should vote on which you like best.

It's for a good cause. :)

♥, me.

when words fail.

• Lyrics.




• They know what we can't even begin to describe using just words.




• They add the dynamic.




• They add depth, love, hate, truth, beauty.




• They add what we can't.




• The most beautifully written poem in the world has to fight to keep up with beautiful music.




• Ever had one of those days where every single song you listen to seems to be about your life?




• Yep, had one of those today, actually. It was quite nice. Every song that came on, I was like, well that's about so-n-so, and that's about whatshisface, and that went on most of the day.




• I loved it.(:




• So. Lyrics speaking to me today:


• Fire engine red that thing was hot.




• Here's to the past they can kiss my glass, I hope she's happy with him.




• You pretend that it's just hello, but you know what it does to me to see your number on the phone. So tell me what do you want, what do you want, what do you want from me?




• You just keep takin' me back, takin' me back to where I've already been. When you move on why does it feel like I'm losin' you again?




• You ain't done nothin' wrong, but you ain't done nothin' right.




• Twirling through sick lulabies, choking on your alibies, but it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me, open up my eager eyes, I'm Mister Brightside.




• Been there, done that, messed around, I'm havin fun, don't put me down. I'll never let you sweep me off my feet. I won't let you in again.


• This time baby, I'll be bulletproof.






• Mmmmkay. Well, I think you somewhat get the picture.




• When in doubt, put your iPod on shuffle, and hang out in a church.






• God'll do the rest.

la vida loca

Is this the high school experience that people write songs about?

Is this legit what they said was so much fun? Happy go lucky?

Yeah. Whatever.

Welcome to Generation Try To Keep Your Head Above Water, Because If You Don't Someone Else Will, And They Will Rock Your Shit.

We're planning on making T shirts.

Seriously? Do you want to know my class schedule right now?

1. Psychology
2. Online college Abnormal Psychology
3. Advanced Mathematical Concepts (a.k.a. trigonometry and pre-calculus)
4. Anatomy and Physiology
5. Animal Science Two
6. Band/Spanish TA
7. English 3
8. United States History

Delicious, is it not? And BONUS! Next year is going to be just as bad, if not worse! YIPPEEEEEE.

Calculus. Physics. Chemistry. Government. Economy. College classes up the hizzy.

And I can hardly handle this.

There's only three letters that can describe what I'm feeling right now:

FML.

And it's not just school that's counting on me to succeed.

There's the play that I'm all caught up in now. Officer elections for my beloved FFA are RIGHT around the corner. I'm the freaking Art Club PRESIDENT for crying out loud, and we haven't even had a meeting since God knows when. SAME story with JEL! 4H is pretty easy. They don't make me do as much for them. :) Student council? Yeah, I don't remember our last meeting. Band contest is coming up. Same day as my ACT. NEITHER of which I am prepared for.

Oh, and did I mention the one thing I'm involved in that I truly hate?

Violin.

Seriously, mom? When I was five, you couldn't have signed me up for Tee Ball or Gymnastics or anything. You picked violin. Sweeeeeet. And now I can't quit, and you CONSTANTLY want me to practice. You know, I wouldn't mind it so much if you didn't like it. But the fact that it's so damn important to you just makes me hate doing it only for your benefit.

I know, wonderful daughter. But really. I told her it's not my groove. It's not my jive, my scene, my thing. Does she care? NOPE. Instead she buys me this $4,000 freakin violin with a $300 bow. The bow DOESN'T EVEN MAKE ANY NOISE. It's literally $300 for a piece of polished wood with some horse hairs stretched over it. That cost more than my iPod. In. Sane.

More than once, I have threatened to sell the whole lot of what I have for my college fund. I could buy a truck, AND all of my books for that. Trust me, I've checked.

Bah humbug. Oh, and not to mention normal high school drama-rama.

Gotta looooooooooooooooooove that!

Not.

Splendid.

Wow.

You have reached a new low.

And for you, man, that's freaking terrible.

You have NO idea what you've gotten yourself into.

Do you REALIZE what people think about you? Do you CARE what people think about you? Is it your GOAL in life to ruin mine?

Because that's really not necessary. I can do that all on my own, thank you very much.

You know, I tried to be your friend. I tried being your bff Jill even when you were talking about stuff I didn't care to be involved in, even when you were in trouble, even when you needed help. I didn't care. You were my bff Jill so it didn't matter. That's what friends do. Now what the hell, dude? Seriously. What. The. Hell.

Now, you've messed with me before, even if you hadn't lied straight to my face. Leaving out important details isn't technically lying, so I'll give you that. But this? Now? Yeah, I'm about 97.85% sure that was straight up lying. Right to my face.

But that 2.15% is staring me straight in the eye and I can't look away.

That 2.15% of your little game just waiting for me to take my turn.

Well, I'm ready for my turn now.

And I think I'm going to pass.

I'm passing on your lies.

I'm passing on your tricks.

I'm passing on your little stunts.

I'm straight up passing on your little fucking game.

Deuces.

TWITTER♥

chrissyjoy_

FOLLOW IT.

:)

Sketch Factory.

The train has left Funkytown. It has now pulled into the station at Sketchville.

Deep, deep into the depths of the dreaded town of Sketchville.

Yeah, I know. It's a pretty sketchy place.

No really. I know how horribly sketchy it is. I'm probably the most sketchy mayor that this sketchy sketchy town has ever seen.

Now that's sketchy.

Sketchy is starting to look like it's not a word. Oops.

Well, I'm sorry. If you know/care what I'm talking about, awesome. I'm not going to explain my sketchiness. It's probably not actually sketchy. Maybe I'm just way too paranoid about getting my shit rocked. Then again, maybe I'm so unbelievably sketchy that no one even bothers to point out my sketchy factor anymore.

Okay, that's a lie. It has been pointed out. And it bugs the living sketch out of me.

I'm legitly sorry for my sketchy ass business.

If you're pissed at me or weirded out or whatever because of it, don't be. No matter how sketchy I may be, I will never, ever, ever, evereverevereverevereverever be shady.

Mmmmkay? :)

A'ight, we cool.♥

argyle♥

Websites you should be addicted to:

http://www.mylifeisaverage.com/

http://www.atfln.com/

http://www.unrelatedcaptions.com/

http://www.theoatmeal.com/

http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/

http://www.mylifeisho.com/

http://www.mylifeisbro.com/

http://www.grouchyrabbit.com/

http://www.dearblankpleaseblank.com/

http://www.ragecaptions.com/

http://www.lolcats.com/

http://www.stumbleupon.com/

www.poorlydressed.com

For gaming and fun purposes:

http://www.gnomeoandjuliet.com/

http://www.freerice.com/

http://www.converse.com/ (designing your own is a FUCKING blast) (:

http://www.hottopic.com/ (best place to window shop EVER)

http://www.nike.com/ (combine the fun of the previous two)

http://www.deviantart.com/ (search for the impossible quiz. it's impossible. ly fun! :D)

That's all I got right now.

Mmmkay, bye. :)

Hold up. Imma grease monkey.♥

I. LOVE. Taking things apart.

Things I have taken apart and successfully fixed:

• DVD player
• VCR
• TV
• Car door latch

Things I have taken apart for the hell of taking it apart:

• Radio
• iPod dock
• Dryer
• Atari

I love it. I'm thinking I may do something of this fashion in my life somehow.

Could I be one of those gorgeous mechanic girls with perfect hair all the time?

Prolly not. My hair gets WAY to frizzy in the summa time for that.

Plus it would get in my way.

However, I do need a summer job. Should I apply at a tire shop? Hmmmmm. Hello, boring-ass receptionist job.

Anyway, I have this leGIT ass story for you.

Hold on to your ass.

Yesterday. I was at my BFF's house. Her bff is a freshie, therefore he's not legal to drive. Does he care? Nah. He drove him, his 10 year old sister, and his freshie bff from DM down to my bff's.

Not only are none of THEM legal, but neither is the car.

No plates, no insurance, no parental knowledge.

Solid.

They get to my bff's. The door latch breaks. It's stuck. They can't figure it out. They're freakin' the FREAK out. O.M.G.

Freshie's mom calls.

She's on her way home.

HO. LY. SHIT. BATMAN.

I'm like, "Lemme at it, homeskills! I'm a champ at this kind of stuff!"

I look at it, I'm like, "I need a Phillips and some WD40!"

Bff: "...Flat head and chain lube?"

"SURE!"

BTW, chain lube looks like pure nasty bubbly lava based shit.

Anyway, it worked. Imma stud.(:

Freshie practically bowed down to me in the middle of the garage.

What can I say?

Imma prodigy.