Friday, April 29, 2011

Blogmail

     In the interest of saving time and effort, I decided to copy and paste an update I emailed to a friend.  (*gasp* I do … other things online besides blogging.  Maybe that’s why the blog only gets updated once in a blue moon.) The entire thing is fairly self-explanatory, so just sit back and enjoy yourselves as much as you can in this hideous example of novelty writing.


     I’m taking a not-so-needed break from logarithms and graphing and algebraic statements to rattle off a handful of words at you.  I’ve been trying to be a good girl, you know?  Doing what needs to be done, even though I don’t feel like it and making my mama happy and growing up and being everything I always said I would be.  The stuff I’ve been working at for the past five months.  Tell me: as one who’s probably been in this spot before, does it ever get to be second nature? or is it just like everything else in that it’s always a constant battle?  Because I’d really like there to be a niche somewhere down the road in which it will be simpler to adhere to industry.  
     Why is everything always a fight?  Everything you get, you have to want, or else you never touch it.  That’s laziness talking, right there.  There is a built-in measure of laziness, correct? But that’s no excuse.  You have to overcome it to make anything of yourself.  Since when do we stop work just because we don’t want to do it?  Who in history has ever gotten into the books with no effort? Besides Henry VIII, but that’s irrelevant.  
     So I’m going to stop complaining and say something remotely pleasant. 
     My grandparents have stuff on demand; very useful thing.  Good Will Hunting was good; Eat Pray Love was a horrific waste of time.  Hockey games went the way I wanted them to; Easter celebrations did not.  My family is so… diverse.  (Keeping the adjectives polite.)  So many stupid people in my family.   It’s awkward at times.  And then there’s the argument that my parents’ opinions aren’t sovereign, so I might have a flawed bias.  (Where’s the line between wise acceptance of advice and sidestepping a mere opinion?)  But.  Despite all the swarming discomfort, the holiday had its moments.  Those moments are embarrassing.  My grandmother says no one can make so many fart jokes as our family can.  That enough of a hint for you?  Regardless of the subject content, though, everybody was smiling (laughing) and enjoying everybody else’s company.  Eh, it’s the thought that counts, right?  Although I have my doubts about the thoughts that swarm around in some of their heads.
     I tutored my cousin ; helped him with his writing assignment.  Turns out, he had an introduction to a book critique due today and hadn’t even started.  Good grief, he hadn’t even read the book yet and most of what he had read, he didn’t remember.  We got an outline together.  He knows where he’s going now.  I told him to keep me updated.  I did have to teach him what “devout” meant.  Oy.  (I failed to mention before that he’s older than I am.  That might enlighten you as to why the “oy” was put there.)
     There’s too much food around the holidays, too.  I swear, after 4 days straight of eating whatever the heck I wanted is coming back to bite me.  I hear the sit-ups calling me; and the road.  But I need my bike fixed first.  
     Last night would have been the most perfect night to sleep outside.  The temperature couldn’t have been sweeter; the moon wasn’t too bright; the stars… But I didn’t do it.  Should have, but didn’t.  Maybe tonight.  
     My father said I was a “grown girl” Sunday morning and it’s kind of a big deal, but it probably shouldn’t be.  I never got the vibe from him before that he found me self-reliant and/or discerning.  Now I don’t know what think he thinks.  My job now is to prove myself to be both.  
     Somewhere in there, I started thinking of this as my blog, so if it sounds different, that might be why.  Not sure what happened.
     I’ll stop now.
     
     Like I said.  Self-explanatory.  Don’t knock the abrupt ending.  That was put there on purpose.  Perhaps following suit here wouldn’t be a bad idea.

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