Arachne in Blunderland
Sceenie Boppers
Hello again, my dear children.
A few days ago, I was walking past a 'gaggle' of 'emo' boys, with my mom incidentally. I only noticed them because one was sporting a lovely Jack Skellington t-shirt (something anyone can find on the feminine side of Hot Topic). They whispered loudly, as it is more common of teenage girls to do. One of them asked the others if they thought I was a lesbian. The other said no, only ugly girls are lesbians.
I wanted to set them on fire.
For starters, the most beautiful person I know is a lesbian. She's honestly amazing, though I spend half my time telling her how she disappoints me. Many of my best friends are homosexual too. So, pretending momentarily that these boys' reasoning had any stock, is it then safe to say that only good-looking boys are gay? Because I promise, gay gentlemen would protest.
Secondly, I am not a pretty girl. In fact, I'm rather monstrous. Compliments to my 'aesthetic charms' are lost on me. I have a tendency to regard them as insults.
And thirdly, the statement is wrong because... Well...I was with my MOTHER! (Sorry, I'm no Oedipus.)
**********
I read Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince for the third time today.
Upon reaching page 596, I bawled my brains out.
Is it normal to become so attached to a fictional character? Normal to feel as if a family member has died? Normal to let so much brine fall from your eyes simply because of what a rich, British woman you'll never meet wrote?
And worse, is it normal to do it three times?
**********
I have decided against your advice, gentlemen.
What I saw and heard last night was more reason than I could have wanted or even needed.
He loves her.
More, I think, than any of us really want to believe.
They have nothing in common. They did not touch at all. She ignores him and rejects him and claws at him for her iPod (rather than leaving scratches on his back). And yet...
He loves her.
So, because I feel, at this point, the same for him as he does for her, I'm going to try and make her see that... Well, and this is probably going to come out venomous, but...
He's IT for her.
*************
TELEPHONE FIASCO!
Illie! Call this number and ask for a ride to church Sunday!
No, I can't give you a ride! I'm busy! Who are you?
Oh, well, then come to my house after church! Oh! What, Illie? Pirates of the Caribbean? Sure!
TELEGRAMMO!
Call Daniel!
Call Emmy!
STOP YELLING AT ME!!!
*********
I am still trying understand the thoughts I've had this week.
I'm sorry if I've confused you too.
*OogieBoogie*
A few days ago, I was walking past a 'gaggle' of 'emo' boys, with my mom incidentally. I only noticed them because one was sporting a lovely Jack Skellington t-shirt (something anyone can find on the feminine side of Hot Topic). They whispered loudly, as it is more common of teenage girls to do. One of them asked the others if they thought I was a lesbian. The other said no, only ugly girls are lesbians.
I wanted to set them on fire.
For starters, the most beautiful person I know is a lesbian. She's honestly amazing, though I spend half my time telling her how she disappoints me. Many of my best friends are homosexual too. So, pretending momentarily that these boys' reasoning had any stock, is it then safe to say that only good-looking boys are gay? Because I promise, gay gentlemen would protest.
Secondly, I am not a pretty girl. In fact, I'm rather monstrous. Compliments to my 'aesthetic charms' are lost on me. I have a tendency to regard them as insults.
And thirdly, the statement is wrong because... Well...I was with my MOTHER! (Sorry, I'm no Oedipus.)
**********
I read Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince for the third time today.
Upon reaching page 596, I bawled my brains out.
Is it normal to become so attached to a fictional character? Normal to feel as if a family member has died? Normal to let so much brine fall from your eyes simply because of what a rich, British woman you'll never meet wrote?
And worse, is it normal to do it three times?
**********
I have decided against your advice, gentlemen.
What I saw and heard last night was more reason than I could have wanted or even needed.
He loves her.
More, I think, than any of us really want to believe.
They have nothing in common. They did not touch at all. She ignores him and rejects him and claws at him for her iPod (rather than leaving scratches on his back). And yet...
He loves her.
So, because I feel, at this point, the same for him as he does for her, I'm going to try and make her see that... Well, and this is probably going to come out venomous, but...
He's IT for her.
*************
TELEPHONE FIASCO!
Illie! Call this number and ask for a ride to church Sunday!
No, I can't give you a ride! I'm busy! Who are you?
Oh, well, then come to my house after church! Oh! What, Illie? Pirates of the Caribbean? Sure!
TELEGRAMMO!
Call Daniel!
Call Emmy!
STOP YELLING AT ME!!!
*********
I am still trying understand the thoughts I've had this week.
I'm sorry if I've confused you too.
*OogieBoogie*