Things TV has taught me

Television has taught me many things. You very well may believe that TV is just a box that melts your brain and leaves you with greasy hair and no social skills but you're wrong. I'm sorry, but you are. As you will see from the following list, TV is actually very valuable in teaching me extremely important things. Please see the following.

.1. Diseases.
Grey's Anatomy, one of my favourite shows, has taught me about a lot of diseases. Admittedly, it has convinced me at various times that I have lupus or schizophrenia or cancer. But that's okay. The point is I know more about diseases and can now cross certain diseases off the list of 'Diseases I possibly have'.

.2. I can't sing.
Every time I finish an episode of Glee, I feel inspired to belt out a song and dance around joyously. It usually only takes me a few verses to remind myself that I actually sound like a drowning cat with tonsillitis when I sing but it's a good lesson for me. That I can't sing and therefore will avoid all school musicals and karaoke nights in order to keep whatever is left of my dignity.

.3. Don't take drugs or alcohol or steal a car or be mean to the weird boy at school.
Thank you Degrassi. Thanks to you I will not:
-Jump off a bridge and end up in the hospital for the rest of my life.
-Make a fool of myself at a school dance and throw up.
-Pay hundreds of dollars to repair a car.
-Be  a victim of a school shooting.
True, you have made me cry in the past. Sob, actually. Weep, really. But let's be honest, most things make me cry. So I think I can forgive you for that in exchange for my health and good sense. So thank you Degrassi.

.4. Pop culture references and how to egg cars.
Gilmore Girls - so many pop culture references I can make thanks to this show. It has taught me good TV references, given me good music taste, taught me to talk faster and how to egg a car. Seriously. Also it has many, many cute boys, so, bonus.

.5. Benefits of reality TV.
Survivor, while some call it 'trashy' is actually quite informative. You may meet your future husband on an island. Eating bugs is sometimes necassary while trying to survive. Grab a chicken by the feet if you want to cook it and eat it. Don't backstab people or you'll be viciously attacked at Tribal Council.

.6. How to survive in deathly situations.
I Shouldn't Be Alive is this great show about people who get stuck in these crazy situations like getting lost in the amazon or getting stranded in the desert or on a island surrounded by shark invested waters and survive. And the best part is, they're all true stories! Seriously, this show rocks and I now know how to survive if I'm ever stranded in an active volcanoe.

.7. How to solve crimes.
Monk is this detective show about a private detective with OCD. I'm pretty sure I could basically be a detective, thanks to Monk. I swear, this show is actually what made me pass my year nine science exam. One section was on forensics and I didn't even study it - I already knew it all thanks to Monk. Seriously. Best show ever.

And that's just the start! So, as you can see, TV is helpful in teaching me...stuff.

Reasons I hate Christmas. (P.S If you really love Christmas you should probably not read this post. Unless your Christmas spirt is so strong that nothing can bring you down.)

Hello! How have you all been? You've probably forgotten all about this blog considering the amount of time it's been since I last wrote. And there's no good excuse for that because I'm had plenty of time, really. For example, all I did today was watch TV online, eat dry Froot Loops, listen to sad songs and feel sorry for myself for no actual reason. 

You know, I don't even have anything to blog about. I was just listening to Macy Gray's 'Don't Forget Me' and it was like my body just snapped awake and was like, 'okay, enough fun. Time to do something productive.' So here I am. Trying to do something productive. Okay. So here we go. I'll just write about interesting things.

There's nothing interesting to write about though.

School is over. So I have roughly six beautiful weeks of pure laziness and Tumblr surfing. And Christmas. Except I kind of hate Christmas. Hey, I'm going to write about why I hate Christmas! This year I spent a lot of time ranting to the girl who sat next to me about the stuff I hate and she loved it. She found it funny. Plus this is my blog so I get to write about whatever I want. So there.

Anyway. Reasons I hate Christmas. Here we go!

.1. Christmas trees.

Christmas trees used to be fun. My family always buys a real one. And I mean, that's fine. I even find the fake ones kind of tacky, plus, real ones smell good. And since I like naming things, I always secretly name our tree which is easier when it's real. (This year I named it Hazel. It definitely looks like a Hazel to me.) But now it just kind of sucks. We got a tree and wrestled it into the house, leaving a sticky trail of loose pine needles and stood it upright in the corner. We then spent about 15 minutes trying to get it straight, locked it into place and realized it was crooked. Very crooked. So we shoved some books under two of the corners of the tree stand and moved on.

Decorating. This was also kind of sucky. We realized too late the number of gaping holes in Hazel but did our best to cover them up with tinsel and lights. (What's the deal with tinsel, anyway? It's kind of ugly.) Some of the lights were broken so it's a little sparse but okay. The star is tipping sideways, the tinsel was forgotten and left off the tree and the decorations (most of them cardboard ones my siblings and I made as children) are constantly slipping off. We even tried to listen to Bing Crosby to bring up the Christmas mood! But we realized it was no use. None of us were really into this project. God. I mean, when Bing Crosby doesn't work, you know it's over.

So despite the real tree and the scent of pine and the traditional decorations, none of it really helped mask the truth. That our Christmas spirit kind of died a few years back and  that Hazel was really just a tree with holes that we'd mutilated, half heartedly decorated and would later kick to the curb when her pine needles turned brown and crunchy. It was just depressing.

 .2. Christmas parties.

Ohh, the agony. The work parties for the adults. The school parties thrown by people you don't care about from school for the kids. The family parties where your Uncle Bryan tells those lame knock knock jokes and then gets drunk and crashes on the couch. The neighbourhood parties. I mean, I just want to go home everyday and watch Confessions of a Shopaholic and Casablanca in peace and be anti social and Scrooge-like. Not stroll down the street to the neighbourhood party and chat awkwardly with people you barely know, where everyone is secretly wondering who the hell arranged this thing.

.3. The shops. 

The evilness of Christmas in a nutshell. The stores cram Christmas down your throat on September 1st. They string up the tinsel, set up the artificial trees, jam new products on shelves, set up carts of cards. 'Hey look! Christmas is coming up! Come buy our crap for people you hate and get in the spirit of XMAS! Get in the spirit! Get the spirit! GET IN THE SPIRIT!' Pardon me, but I prefer to get into the spirit of Christmas sometime in December. Also, I would like to go into a regular store and buy some bug spray without having a slightly maniacal shop assistant rush up and ask me whether I've bought Christmas gifts for my loved ones yet.

.4. Christmas movies.

Don't they suck? There are the classics, which are okay, like 'It's A Wonderful Life' and 'Miracle on 34th Street'. But then. Oh boy. Then come the remakes, the new ones, the animated ones. It's a cheap and tacky excuse to make lame movies that completely miss the point of Christmas. And the remakes always ruin the original.

 

.5. Political correctness.

Be careful how you decorate your yard this year, guys. I'd take down that Santa if I was you. That nativity scene is a big no-no. Oh, and those carols have to go. I mean, hey. You don't want to offend anyone.

It's ridiculous! You put up any decorations that symbolize YOU! Not a religion or cause you can't even spell. It's a free country and I'll put Santa's sleigh on my roof if I want to and you can't stop me! Not that I would ever do that. 

Anyway. I just think it's all stupid. It's like people go out looking for something to be offended by. My friend was told by her boss the other day to stop saying 'Merry Christmas' to customers since they might get offended. OFFENDED. It was a friendly saying! It doesn't mean, hey, here's my religion and my beliefs, I demand you follow them as well! It means 'Happy Holidays'. It shouldn't be an issue but it is. Everything is an issue today and you know what, it's just taking over Christmas. And those people who celebrate Christmas but get offended by the sight of a nativity scene? What are you celebrating? You know Christmas is about Jesus' birth, right? If you don't, what are celebrating? Ugh. I hate it all. We do so much to make everyone feel comfortable that we forget our own comfort. 

.6. Christmas shopping.

The madness begins the second the stores snap into Christmas-mode. It begins in September and doesn't end until December 25th. Or often early January. And it's crazy! Parents rush around ramming strollers over your feet, fights erupt over which mother gets the very last new Fairy-Princess Barbie doll, the stores are brimming with eager, desperate or smug shoppers. Oh and there's the whole gift thing. It's all about money. How much do you love me? 'Oh, you made me a photo album scrapbook thing  with all our precious memories in it? But...it didn't cost anything. Oh, I get it! You don't love me at all!'

Ahem. I'm sorry. I know I sound like a Scrooge. And I know I should just put all that behind me and be like 'Christmas is about spending time with your family and spreading the love'. And I'm all about that. (As long as nobody hugs me.) I really am. I could be into Christmas if it was, I don't know, genuine and true again. But the problem is that it's not that simple anyway. You can't avoid the stores or the carols or the newspaper articles arguing what's right and wrong when it comes to decorations. 

Anyway. Have a lovely holiday if you're celebrating one (check out how politically correct that was!) and hope you enjoyed this post despite the lateness and the hate. 

Promise to update soon,

Tess. x

Conversations

You know what I really like? Eavesdropping on strangers. I find it really interesting. A couple of weeks ago my sisters and I went to the movies. We were going down the escalators and there were three girls of about 12 years old going up the escalators.

Girl One: Hurry up, let's go! -starts running, Girl Two follows-
Girl Three: Wait! I have to finish telling you my story about the murder/birdbath/burger!

See, my eldest sister thought the third girl said birdbath. My other sister said she said murder. I insist she said burger. Isn't it weird how people hear different things? Here are some other conversations.

Friday afternoon, on the bus home. Two girls behind me.

Girl One: His handwriting is really small and cramped and thin. I think that means he is ruled by his head and not his heart, he keeps to himself and he has low self esteem but is like, really smart.
Girl Two: I don't get it. He's like, the most energetic person I know, he doesn't keep to himself.
Girl One: Wait, maybe vertical writing means lack of flexibility. I keep forgetting.
Girl Two: Fine, do my handwriting. -silence- (I think she was writing something down)
Girl One: Okay, you're open and friendly, easy going and artistic.
Girl Two: Yeah, that's good, see.
Girl One: How is Jamie supposed to ask me out if he has low self esteem? I'm not going to ask him out, that's such a gutsy move.
Girl Two: Lizzie asked Nick out.
Girl One: Lizzie B?
Girl Two: Yeah. She asked him out.
Girl One: Okay, but Lizzie is a total headcase. She's like, crazy bold.
Girl Two: Yeah, well now they're dating.
Girl One: She said she's going to break up with him if he doesn't grow taller.
Girl Two: Serious?
Girl One: Yeah, she said if he doesn't get taller she'll have to end it.
Girl Two: That is so shallow. I would never date a guy if I was just going to break up with him over something as meaningless as that.
Girl One: What about Jared?
Girl Two: That was different.

Friday afternoon, while getting onto the bus. A girl ran up behind me, catching up with her friend.

Running Girl (very excitedly): I made it! I thought I'd missed the bus!
Friend: Really? 
Running Girl: I made it! I am such a legend! Oh man, I'm such a legend, I almost missed the bus! (She was not a legend. It was a very long line and the bus had only just arrived. It was clear that it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.)
Friend: -laughs- Good job.
Running Girl: Legend. I am such a legend. I almost missed the bus.

Wednesday, lunchtime, in the library. Two girls fighting over something - a school project, I think.

Girl One: I did everything! You haven't done anything!
Girl Two: Why do we have to type it up?
Girl One: All we have to do is add some borders, God. Mar- Come back! We have to finish this!
Girl Two walks over and joins three other girls. Girl One sighs pointedly and keeps working. Then she stands up, marches over to the other girls, snatches a piece of paper out of Girl Two's hands and walks back to the computer.
Other Girls: "Whoa," "Calm down," "Mad, much?"

In all fairness, I thought one of them should've talked to her or helped her or something. Anyway. Wasn't that interesting? I think other people's conversations are interesting. Is that wrong, do you think? Should I stop listening in on conversations? Let me know what you think.

Solitaire

Hey guys. So, I haven't updated in forever, I'm sorry! I know, I suck. My life has been awfully boring lately. Well here's something: the makers of solitaire suck. Here's what I think: you win, say, four games in a row so they deliberately give you a super hard one. And then, when you lose four games in a row? They throw you an insultingly easy one, like 'oh, hey, dumbo, maybe you better start off with an easy one, eh?' I think they're trying to annoy me on purpose.

For those of you who don't know, solitaire is a card game. You would think I could beat a card game, right? Because I'm so smart and clever and quick thinking and brilliant and modest? Wrong. Well, I am smart and clever and quick thinking and brilliant and modest but I also can't beat a card game. It is very frustrating. I've been playing solitaire for almost an hour now and I still haven't won a game. I almost always win solitaire. I think they've decided to punish me for being so great at the game. (Not so great now, obviously.)

Well. They won't get to me. I am fighting back. Now, when I lose a game, I'm going to click Reset Game and I will play that game until I win it. And so help me, if it takes all night then it takes all night. And I shall play until the game is defeated. Because I'm hardcore. And the makers of solitaire wish they were as hardcore as me.

SOLITAIRE FIGHTERS UNITE.

My God, I am lame. Disregard this post and I'll update soon.

Bruno Mars

So I guess if you like Bruno Mars or something you probably shouldn't read this. Let me just clear something up: I don't hate Bruno Mars. I don't hate anybody because it makes me feel bad (with the exception of Hitler*). But I strongly dislike him, or more his music I suppose. The reason I'm writing this post is because I just had a huge debate over Bruno Mars VS. The Beatles with a friend of mine. She loves BM and I love the Beatles. I mean, I love them. Basically she was all: "he's lyrics are so super duper sweet and meaningful...but I hate the Beatles. They have too much rhythm." Too much rhythm? WTF does that even mean? My argument was that it was fine if people liked Bruno Mars but my problem was that she hadn't even heard a Beatles song all the way through but she hates them with a passion. And that the Beatles have some really meaningful songs (eg. Let it be, Hey Jude, etc) so if it's meaning she's after, they have plenty. Anyway, it just got me thinking about Bruno Mars, so here it is.

I mean, okay, take 'Just The Way You Are'. Okay. Fine. Cute song, I get it. I heard it and I was like, sure, it's nice. Nothing special, but nice. I reported this back to my friend (the BM lover) and she demanded I watched the video because then I would 'fall in love' with it. So I watched the thing and I hated it. I hated it! What is with that video? It completely defeats the purpose of the song! I thought it was a sweet song because I got the message that she was just an average girl with some self esteem issues or whatever and he loved her anyway because that's what love is all about. But the girl in the video is freaking gorgeous. Well, of course you think she's beautiful, she's a damn supermodel. Why can't music videos and magazines just have ordinary girls in them? Or ordinary guys for that matter. So now every time I hear that song I just don't care because I don't really think it means anything.

And then Grenade, which I won't go on about for too long because everyone hates that song, it seems. But:
.1. Where the HELL are you, Bruno, that there are grenades flying around? And why is someone throwing grenades at the girl? Because if that's the case I'm going to say she had it coming.
.2. It sounds like they either broke up or were never together. If that's the case, he needs to move on. And why is he dragging a piano up the hill? That won't work Bruno! I don't think she broke up with you because you didn't pull a piano around.
.3. Really? I don't know but killing himself seems a bit excessive to me. She seems kind of bitchy to be honest. Maybe he should just eat some ice cream, cry a bit and then get a job and move on. This song makes absolutely no sense to me. At all.

And finally, the Lazy Song. WOW. I just listened to it. My friend was telling me about it (a different friend) and I was like, oh, that actually sounds like a cute song. Maybe I'll listen to it. So I did. Wow. It is disgusting. Have you guys listened to the lyrics? They're gross. The start was all chill and I was like, this is cool, I actually kind of like this. And then it went on. Ew. That doesn't sound so cute anymore, it sounds like a loser who only cares about sex. Seriously, go back and actually listen to the lyrics. They're playing this on the radio. Young teen girls are listening to this and singing it aloud. DO PEOPLE NOT LISTEN TO THE ACTUAL WORDS ANYMORE.

Flaxing hell. Sorry, maybe this post is a bit mean? I don't know. But Bruno Mars bugs me. And I mean, hey, cool if you like Bruno Mars. Yeah, he's talented. He has a nice voice. But I think his lyrics are stupid. Oh, and his smile bugs me too. It's kind of smug and arrogant, no? Anyway. This is just my opinion and I hope it didn't offend anyone.

On a separate note, I am really starting to hate those personal YouTube comments that are all over the place. I would like to listen to Forever Young/Hey Jude/whatever without scrolling down to hear about how this song reminds you of your dead grandmother/friend/dog. I'm sorry, I am, but I find it annoying. Way to make things awkward and sad. Literally, I just watched a video and EVERY SINGLE comment was something like: "R.I.P to my  little brother of 4 :'( I love you with all my heart. I love you James :'" Yes, that is sad. But it's annoying and to be honest, I think its tacky to post messages like this on the Internet. Disrespectful, even.

Anyway. Sorry, this post is quite mean, isn't it? I hate being mean, it makes me feel so guilty. Sorry. Well, I'm back to school in three days. Where did the holidays go?

 *I wrote a poem about Hitler for a school project. Do you want to hear it?
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Adolf Hitler,
I hate you.
Personally, I really think it has something but I don't know if my teacher would accept it so I wrote a different one. Let me know what you guys think about the original. You know, I used to just feel sorry for Hitler. But this semester we learned about the Holocaust and watched Chindler's List and it was just horrible. Truly, after every lesson I just felt nauseous. What a terrible time in history.

Things to do Before I Die

Hellodily-odily! How are you guys? I'm okay-ish - school holidays are here but I never relax until my parents have seen my report card. So for now I just have this little nagging feeling gnawing at my flesh. Ew. That's creepy. ANYWAY. The title pretty much says it all. 

.1. Travel. (This is quite general, I know. It's just that I want to travel everywhere and see everything so this just sums it up.)

.2. Be in two places at once.*

.3. Publish a novel.

.4. Learn to play the flugelhorn.

.5. Learn to play the harmonica.

.6. Learn to ride a unicycle.

.7. Fall in love.

.8. Go apple/berry picking.

.9. Learn to juggle.

.10. Learn to walk on my hands.

.11. See a meteor shower.

.12. Throw a pot.

.13. Ride a horse in an empty field.

.14. Learn a foreign language.

.15. Write a song - like, a good one.

.16. Solve 1 mystery.

.17. Have 1 adventure.

.18. Finish every Nancy Drew book.

.19. See a Broadway musical.

.20. Smile at 100 strangers.

.21. Find a four-leaf clover.

.22. Make fire without matches.

.23. Save someones life.

.24. Witness a miracle.*

.25. Get a tattoo.

.26. Befriend someone I don't like.*

.27. Send a message in a bottle.

.28. Be in a food fight.

.29. See the oldest turtle in the world.

.30. Sleep under the stars.

.31. Go up in a hot air balloon.

.32. Learn to skip stones.

.33. Grow a garden.

.34. Swim with dolphins.

.35. Photograph an endangered species.

.36. Scuba in the Great Barrier Reef.

.37. Attend a music festival in another country.

.38. Climb an active volcano.

.39. Live like a local for a month in another country.

.40. Set foot on each of the 7 continents.

.41. Visit a blues bar in Chicago.

.42. Give flowers to strangers.

.43. Go skydiving.

.44. Go on a holiday with no luggage.

.45. Ride a giant roller coaster.

.46. Watch the sun rise.

.47. Watch the sun set.

.48. Fly a kite.

.49. Build a tree house.

.50. Ride a motorcycle.

.51. Swim with sharks.

.52. Do a handstand on the South Pole. No wait for it...I'd be holding up the world. Get it!?

.53. Master one really cool magic trick.

.54. Visit really famous musuems and art galleries.

.55. Visit really unknown musuems and art galleries.

I'm sure I will add more to the list as life goes on, but for now this is my List of Things to do Before I Die.

* Taken from A Walk to Remember, book by Nicholas Sparks and movie with Mandy Moore. Ha, I just sounded like an advertisement.

See ya later, alligator!
(Please note that this is the point where you say, 'after awhile, crocodile!')

Fear

~~*NOTE: THIS PESSIMISTIC TALE IS NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED! IT CONTAINS A SLIGHTLY CREEPY STORY! AND MY IMAGINATION! AND MY IMAGINATION IS NEVER GOOD WHEN IT COMES TO SLIGHTLY CREEPY STORIES! IT'S OKAY, YOU CAN READ THIS TALE IF YOU LIKE BECAUSE IT ISN'T ACTUALLY THAT SCARY BUT IF YOU GET SCARED OF SMALL THINGS, LIKE DOGS THAT BARK LOUDLY LIKE I DO, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY NOT READ THIS.~~*

So. I totally just scared myself. No, I mean I scared myself.* Literally. I was just sitting on the couch yesterday, minding my own business, reading a book and half listening to my Aunt's conversation with my brother and sister. So, I guess not really minding my own business. I zoned in when my brother began to tell a short story he read (I don't remember who it was by. Let me know if you want to know and I'll ask my brother) about this guy in an insane asylum? And this woman went to visit some relative of hers there, and she met the guy and she was like, why is he even here, he seems completely normal. And she asks one of the employees and they go: oh, yeah, he strangled a woman on a bike one day and he's been here ever since. So anyway, she goes home but she keeps writing letters and trying to get him out and stuff because she thinks he's sane or something? I don't know. Anyway, finally he is released from the asylum and he tips his hat and smiles and says goodbye to the employees and stuff and walks away all happy to meet the woman. And about 20 minutes later, he walks straight back in, still happy, still smiling and admits himself again. And down the street there's a strangled woman in a ditch! Spooky, eh?

Now, when I heard this, I was like: what a psycho! That's creepy. And then we got into a conversation about the Twilight Zone. But anyway. Like most scary things, that story wasn't so scary during the day time. But last night, it was super late and my sister and I were watching all these Gilmore Girls episodes (oh hush, I like the show, okay?) and she [my sister] goes: "I think I might sleep here tonight, (meaning the lounge), because I'm too tired to go back to my room and plus, that story today kind of freaked me out." WELL. Zoom, goes my brain, straight to that story! All the details flooded my mind! How happy he was! The strangling! The way he tipped his hat! And I just about freaked. Don't worry, I played it cool. Cool as a cucumber. Cool as a cat. Cool as a cucumber-eating Cat. Yeah, I just capitalized 'cat'. That's how cool I was. I was just like, "oh yeah, I might sleep here too because it's really comfortable here on my couch." But really I just didn't want to sleep in my room alone. So I raced to my room and grabbed my blanket and then ran back to the lounge room with my heart slamming against my ribcage and all I could think was 'holy crap he's right behind me and he's going to freaking strangle me and oh my Lord, I can feel his hands on my neck!' As you can see, I was a little over imaginative to say the least.

ANYWAY. So I set up a bed on the couch and just as I'm getting sleepy my sister gets up and tells me she's moving back to her room. Because she has this thing where she can't sleep unless she's on her bed. And there was no way in hell I was going to stand up and move back to my room because the guy would grab my legs and pull me under the couch. So I just said goodnight and stayed in the lounge. I thought it was no big deal. I could get back to sleep right? Hell no. I spent 30 minutes whipping my head around the room every few seconds to make sure nothing was going to eat me. Or strangle me. Or abduct me. Or murder me. Or whatever. So after about the fortieth time of practically breaking my neck from checking over my shoulder, I got the courage to move to the other side of the couch where I could see all around the room. I then spent about two hours keeping guard. It was probably around 3 or 4am when I finally dropped off. It was the scariest two hours of my life. I swear. My mouth was dry, my legs to shaking, my hands were clammy and my senses were like, ten thousand times more alert. But I'm still alive. I am such a survivor.

And here's the thing. The story itself isn't that scary. It really isn't. It was the details that freaked me out: the tipping of the hat, to be specific. It gives me chills. I don't know why. And the other thing was that I conjured up the image of the guy - in my mind, he is wearing a bowl hat and plaid jacket (God knows why) and...this is such a weird thing to write...he has no eyes. Yep. No eyes. I mean, where his eyes should be? Just black holes. And he's still smiling. TELL ME THAT DOESN'T CREEP YOU OUT. Why do I do that? I kept telling myself, don't picture him, don't picture him, don't retell the story to yourself, don't retell the story to yourself, picture daffodils, picture Bambi, picture daffodils, picture Bambi. And what do I do? I picture the guy. I retell the story. Daffodils what? Bambi who? What is wrong WITH ME? Eyeless??

Back to my first line, I literally did just scare myself. I went into the bathroom to wash my hands because I just made meringues* and my hands were sticky and I was thinking, oh, holy macaroons, if there are any holy macaroons out there please don't let him be in the ceiling watching me. And then I turned around and found myself face to face with myself in a mirror. I jumped about a mile and let out a tiny squeal. Therefore, I literally just scared myself. I can't believe I just told you a whole story and told you a creepy image just to end up with me scaring myself.

Anyway. I'm really sorry if I scared anyone out there. I know that might sound silly because I get so pathetically scared of such things but if I did, I apologize. Try not to send any excessive hate mail, 'kay? Again, sorry.

And on that super happy note, I bid you farewell.

P.S You know what is entirely weird? I think I'm actually going to read the story. My brother has it in his room somewhere. Why would I want to read a story that has scarred me for life?? I read somewhere that we watch scary movies and read stories because it gives us, like, an adrenaline rush? And its like a controlled fear? So I guess that makes sense. Because I have this theory that we need an adrenaline rush every now and again. And I'm too scared of heights to actually go skydiving or whatever even though it's on my List of Things to do Before I Die.  Look how important that looks, all bold and underlined and italicized. Read it in a booming voice, just for me, okay? Oh, right: I'm too scared of heights to actually go skydiving or whatever so I guess I need to read scary stuff in order to get my dose of adrenaline.

PP.S Do you think I'm crazy? For being so scared of this? And being scared that he gonna like, grab my ankles or watch me from the ceiling? I don't know. I have a really, really, super over-active imagination so maybe I just over-scare (word?) myself.

* I used a lot of italics and underlines and even a bit of boldness in this post because I really felt the need to show you guys the seriousness of my fear. Actually, I use italics and underline and bold and capitals a lot because I like the dramatic touch.
* I make super good meringues. Seriously.