Resperating and Perspirating

Staying up late is really taking it out on my lungs. Isn't it really dumb that I stay up anyways? It's even dumber getting irritated at my family for telling me to go to sleep earlier. I guess it's just hard for me to hear it from somebody else.

Future Railroad

So I'm having dinner with my family. It's nice, I'm eating some soysauce-covered tofu with broccoli and rice. Then my mom has to go and talk about me going to bed earlier and stuff. Yeah, my habit with staying up late is bad for my health and all, not to mention it'll have an effect on my school life. But hearing it so many times makes me want to wring my ears, which is actually very hard to do with cartilage. Anyhow, she tells my entire family about how I have to wake up at like six every morning of the school year because I have a zero period. Then my sister jumps in and says that I'll probably die because zero periods are the worse (yeah, she would know, Miss I-took-zero-to-seventh-period-and-had-perfect-grades. AGH.). So then my dad's like, "Wait, why do you even need to take seven periods." I start to tell him three times, interrupted by my mom and sister each time, because apparently, they know the answer oh-so-much more than I do. It's like, jeez, I don't have to talk for myself anymore. After my mom and sister both made their different points about why I need to take seven periods, they all started to talk about how I need to volunteer and stuff. I'm just like, yeah, okay. But then they start going into detail about the Rose Parade, the library, and the Performing Art Center. It was nice they were giving me all the suggestions, but I'm just like, okay, I can handle it. But then they started degrading me after all their ideas like I can't handle it and stuff. Family really does know how to lower your self-esteem. Then they go onto about colleges and stuff. Earlier my sister's like, "Yup, when it comes to the eleventh grade, it's just like, 'Man, I need to study for tests and I need to keep my grades up, too.'" As much as I harassed my sister when she was in the eleventh grade, at least I didn't make her want to cry under stress. And I'm not even in the eleventh grade yet.
Ugggh, I'm just not in a good mood today. Or I'm just having a bad day. It's all the same, really.

A Flash of Lighting, Heat, and True Colors

So my mother. -glares- Is on the phone right now, talking to my friend's (who's name happens to be Jenny, also) mom. Just talking in Chinese. I don't really care what she's talking about. Then she starts getting into talking about the average-everyday-worthless-child-of-the-present. She's just ranting on and on about how kids are always texting, and their hands are glued to their phone. That they can't learn anything. In class they're texting and listening? Yeah, not so much of the last part. And I'm sitting here thinking, yeah, I guess you're an expert since you've sat in class with us, huh? True, I've seen people like that, but their grades are decent, it annoys me whenever they take out their phone secretly in class, but hey, what can you do (besides tell the teacher and have it confiscated, which would be for their own good)? Then she goes on about how the average children of this country is always on the computer. She looks at me when she's saying this, and I'm staring right back at her in the eyes, so she says, "They spend all night on the computer, perfectly awake, but they never wake up in the morning." I'm staring right at her, and she doesn't even look away. It really ticked me off for some reason. Yeah, it's true. I stay up until who knows how long and I wake up at noon. But it really, really ticked me off. Then she went on how worthless and useless the children of the world are today and that the older people of the world are relying on them, but it's pretty much assured that the world is doomed. Now I'm just trying to ignore her, but she's still really ticking me off. Just wanted to say.

School of Chaos

I just felt like typing here. If only I put in my blogging time to recreating my story. Well, it was program verification day for my school. My school is so weird, I sometimes wish I'd change schools. So first of all, even before today, the school calls like a bunch of times, leaving different messages every time, and it's so hard to hear what's being said too. I'm just wondering, "What is he saying? And is this important to me anyways?" Why can't they just gather up their information, put it on one organized email for us to read and understand? Day after day, stuff about PTA, taking pictures in the wrestling room, and it's just too much. Anyhow, today, we have to line up in this ridiculous line in the heat to turn in forms the school mailed you, and I didn't know what to bring exactly. Apparently, though, I didn't have two forms, so I have to turn those in on the first day of school. So after waiting over an hour, maybe, in the heat (at least there was shade, I guess) I get into the gym and there was a bunch of tables. I paid for my textbook damages from last year, it was just a dollar though, then I had to find my ID among a bunch of them, got my schedule, got confused at one table because I didn't know what to do there, and apparently it was for a schedule change, so I was like, "Oh, I don't need to be here then." It was a huge confusing mess. Then I found out there's another long line for getting lockers. You know what's so messed up about the school I'm going to? We have to share our lockers with someone else. Not only that, we have to pay five dollars each for it. My sister went to a different school from me, so after listening to what I said(since she just came back today) and she said, "Your school's weird. I didn't have to pay for our locker, and I certainly didn't have to share it with anyone." And her school had cardboard walls, dang it, does that not say anything about how poor it was? I think they changed it by now, I don't know though. At least they had their own lockers and they didn't have to pay for them, except they did have to bring their own lock, but still! I just think my school is a bundle of chaos.

I'm Running Out of Ideas For Titles

Huh, I've been blogging a lot lately. It's not just a lot post-wise, but I've been ranting for a long time. I wonder if I'm back to my old self now. Ah, yes, the me that just squirts out angry things at things that make me angry. Well, I prefer being angry than sad, I guess . . .

A Title. Huh?

Depressing. I'm so depressing. I'm always like this and I never change. I can look back on all my past blog posts and five-sixth of it is me spewing out crude about me or my life or something I did. I have enough negative energy in me that the negative end of the battery has resisting force when pushed towards me. Heh.

Fear of My Life

Well, what do you know, here again around the same time. I think. Anyhow, I may seem like in a humorous mood, but I've just been scarred for life. Why, you might ask? Besides the fact that I just had the most terrifying moment in perhaps my entire life so far, my respect for my parents took a major step down. Okay, so to be blunt, I saw a cockroach. If you guys haven't realized, I have a huge fear of bugs. Even if they are ladybugs or butterflies, insects in general scare the life out of me. Ants are the only ones that can be near me without me totally freaking me out, because I passed that phase years ago after I realized that it's impossible to escape them. But a cockroach. THE VERY NAME COULD SEND ME TO H---. I was watching an anime I recently discovered. It's called Lovely Complex, it's cutely romantic and it's really funny, I totally recommend it. But enough of that. So there was a really loud fluttering sound and before I know it, that huge, disgusting, vulgar, vile, and down-right creepy monster of a thing appeared in my doorway and you know what I do? I just let out a big, fat scream. My parents' reaction? Zip. I had to scream "COCKROACH!" a million times. There was this one time, when my sister and I both screamed at the same time when a cricket suddenly appeared out of nowhere. My parents just continued watching their shows and my sister said to me, "It's sad how they're so used to us screaming out that they don't even bother asking what's wrong." Yeah, the sad truth. But you know, I was scared out of my mind. It was big man, big. I screamed and screamed and jumped onto my bed, held my blanket up to my head and screamed like a madwomen (I bet my neighbors were debating on whether to call the police to report a murder). My dad enters the room calmly and catches a glimpse of the cockroach midflight to my sister's bed which was right above me. My dad grumbled to himself while tossing the cover sheet around half-heartedly around and said that it vanished. Then he left to report to my mom that I wasn't crazy and that there really was a cockroach. My mom's response, "Really? Ah, this is going to be troublesome." Then they go back to watching their stupid drama. THEY GO BACK TO WATCHING THEIR STUPID DRAMA. Dad, I understand that you work hard everyday trying to support a family and that you're older than most of my friend's parents (if my friend is their parent's first child), but I'm sitting their sobbing uncontrollably, and you act like you don't care at all. Mom, I know I'm always making a fuss, and have to deal with me a lot when you probably just want to relax sometimes, but you are just as indifferent as my father. Tell me, is that not cold at all? Am I overreacting? About either of the two things that happened to me at that moment? Am I? Of course, by then my paranoia has gone over my head and I can't help but to feel that the cockroach could even be behind me at that very moment, so I run out of there. When I was in my parent's room, I felt safe, but the thought of the cockroach made me go mad, and I started crying again. This isn't a joke when I say, I've never cried so hard before in my life. Granted, I'm a fifteen year old girl, that amount of living is insignificant to even my 22 year old sister. But I was just in there crying, and I was sure that my parents could hear me (it's starting to sound like I planned this all out . . .) and they don't even comment about it. They talk very loud, I know, I evesdrop on them all the time except when they're talking about me. Anyhow, so I crying thinking that one, my life is slowly going to be ruined by a cockroach and it's stupid spawns, but two, that my parents don't care if I'm miserable or terrified at all. You know, as a child, whenever my parents scolded me and I started crying, they'd yell at me more to go cry out of their sight. I always figured that they didn't want to see their child making such a miserable face in front of them--that or they got sick of me crying from when I was a baby and didn't know better than to cry when I was supposed to sleep)--but I'm starting to have second thoughts, except for that last part. And so I regain composure and poke my head out and ask my mom what I should do. "Do whatever," was pretty much the gist of what she said to me. Then my dad said, "I can't do anything about it if I don't know where it is." Since I decided that either I run away from home (which is pretty dumb for obvious reasons and the fact that there are even more bugs out there) or the cockroach goes. So I stood at the doorway of my room, staring and staring. I gathered the couraged to step into my room and quickly tidy my things up, just so that if the cockroach appears, it couldn't crawl into a huge mess (luckily, earlier I had the sudden urge to clean up my room a little, so it wasn't that bad). Finally it showed up, fluttered viciously and landing on an old binder I was thinking about throwing out, though I knew my answer after that thing touched it. Of course, none of those thoughts occured when I saw it. My big mouth opened again for another furious scream, and my dad came to me angrily. He looked into my room and apparently saw nothing, so he yelled at me to stop screaming, but rather to tell him where it is because he can't do anything if he doesn't know where the blasted thing is. I had a huge debate speech in my head that had to do with, I can't help but to scream because I'm just that scared and that the cockroach moves. If he doesn't run to me, it'd probably scuttle out of sight by the time he gets there, I can't even point the direction where it went, because I ran back into my parent's room again to take shelter. So after calming down when my dad left, I tried to hunt down the cockroach while tightly holding onto this belt-like-thing for stress reasons. I finally saw it, on my blue bag, by the way (I really want to throw it away now), and I managed to keep my cool and I called out to my dad where it was. I kept an eye on it except it was crawling right at me! I was backing away when my dad came to my rescue and so I ran away. My dad said something about the cockroach going into the bathroom so I should just go away for the moment, so I went into my parent's bathroom instead. I sat in the clean shower and cried with my hands covering my ears (I don't know what I was trying to not hear). After a long time and I heard the mumbled voice of my father through my hands, I knew it was over. Up to this moment, I don't know what he did with that thing, and I'm glad I don't. I just hope he didn't catch it and let it go, which I'm pretty sure he did. Just the thought of it being in his hands makes me shiver. I do give my parents credit for not being a spineless whimp like me, who still screams (though not as loudly, nor as furiously) at the sight of a cricket sometimes. I still feel like they don't care about me, though. My dad called the cockroach an "insignifcant cockroach" and I'm just like, yeah, that scared the living day out of me, if you haven't noticed. Although my parents are over a million times smarter and wiser than I am, I think I'm more sympathetic than they are.
I'll say one more thing, it's a good thing my sister wasn't around, here to witness a cockroach fly onto her bed and stay there for who knows how long. Except she did tell me that there was a cockroach in her room at Caltech (happened twice really). I laughed at her situation on AIM, but after seeing one, I think I should be b---- slapped and hanged. Though she seemed composed when she talked to me, but what the heck does that say, it was through an IM box where you can hardly communicate feelings other than "-cries-" or something like that. It's also a good thing that she's up North helping her boyfriend who's helping her move into their apartment (since they're going to live together when she goes there for gradschool) because that means she won't be sleeping in her bed for a long, long, long time. The next time she visits is probably winter vacation, since Thanksgiving is too short to come all the way down here for. It's much farther away than her other college, that's for sure. Anyhow, before she left to go help the moving in, she slept in the guest room (the room I'm in right now, actually) because it's cooler in here than our room, since there's only one wall to the outside world for the guest room, and two for my bedroom, which means that the heat transfer is less. Moving on, it was a smart move of my sister. Hopefully the cockroach didn't touch any of her stuffed animals (or any of mine, for a matter of fact!) although she'd probably keel over and worry about it when she comes home anyways. Bugs. Insects. I curse you to the ends of the world. The one thing I detest the most. It's worse than annoying people, which I won't even go on right now, and almost as bad substance abusers, normal abusers, killers, and rapers. They are just about the worst. I swear, if there was a God, he likes to send a cricket ever time I'm happy. This time, since I was slacking off from math homework again, and enjoying my show too much, He decided to send in the big guns. If I could list how many times my good days were ruined by a mere bug, this blog could not be bloated enough, and this blog has . . . an infinite amount for you to write? Point is, there's a lot, and I honestly think that the world is out to get everyone, especially on their good days.