Small Blessings :)

Just found an entire, freshly baked brownie on my stove top. Yumm.

Not sure who's it is though, maybe I shouldn't have any...nahh... ;)

Fishy, fish, fish.

Hey, did anyone notice my fish? :)

I love them.

Blog worthy.

I saw the movie "Julie & Julia" the other night. It was tres fab. But it got me thinking because Julie made a blog about her year-long-cooking-goal-thingy and I thought "wow, my blog is incredibly lame."

I need a goal, something to work up to. Because I feel a bit like time is flying past me and I am wasting it. But what? Sigh.

If I had a baby...

Not that I would, because I'm much too young, but just if...

I would want it to be a boy, named:

Jacob Matthew.

Then I would want a girl, named:

Avalon Elizabeth Josephine.

And last, but not least I would want another boy, named:

Leom Oliver.

I'm not sure why, probably all the babysitting that I have been doing, but I have been thinking about children a lot. Everytime I see little kid or baby stuff (especially clothes) in stores I have crazy urges to buy them and give them too all the little kids that I know. It was funny because I told my dad the names that I had picked out this morning and he said,''Shouldn't you think about getting a mate before you think about kids?'' Oh sigh, father. I mean really, who needs men when you can have little children to care for? ;P

Bud.

I know this guy. Let's call him bud.

Bud is a jerk. Bud is rude, he doesn't know how to act polite, responsible or even respectful. He is older then me but he is less mature then most people I know, and that is saying something. When I say mature, I'm not just talking about humour-I love immature humour, most of the time-I am talking about his attitude towards everything. How he reacts to situations, the way he takes everything as an offense and mostly the way he pouts when the attention is on anyone but himself. Bud gets invited to a lot of parties my friends and I host whether we like or not, though it is our fault because we let him get invited or tag along. At these parties he sulks, glowers, sits alone, refuses to join in the games and starts fights with other people at the party. Sometimes he will actually leave, or go in another room because he is ...well I'm not entirley sure but he is pouting. I feel that if you are going to attend a party, either put on a happy face because this party is not about you or do not come at all if you are feeling to miserable to even smile. You are ruining the party for everyone else when you make it about yourself. I know Bud won't read this. But I feel like maybe telling him the truth, though I know he is too immature to take it well. Bud would probably call me names and never talk to me agian. Which is stupid. Argh. It really frustrates me to be put in situations with someone I don't like and have to put up with him. Even when he is being a complete asshole. Bud actually started arguing with an 11 year old one time. HOW RIDICULOUS? I mean seriously. Grow up a little, please?

Hmm...

Do I really want people to know these things about me?

I'm sadder then I thought.

I feel like I'm missing something.
I feel wrong.
I feel like something is bothering me, but I don't know what it is.

I feel uninspired.
I haven't writen a song in too long.
I have hardly played my guitar, because there is nothing to write about.
I'm bored.
My life is boring, in a way.
There are interesting parts. Good parts, bad parts, weird parts, funny parts.
But the past is more interesting, more... just more then the present.

None of the music I listen to makes me feel magical. I barely even listen to the whole song anymore.

I've realized that, maybe, there has been one thing that has been holding me together for the past years. And that thing appears to be crumbling before my eyes; there's nothing I can do to stop it, nothing.

I don't dream anything anymore.
I don't laugh much either, not really laugh.
Nothing is like it used to be, but I don't know what changed.

I'm still on the playground.

I'm a baby, I'm still a child; inside.
I don't want to grow up, please don't make me.
My head hurts when I think of having to make big decisions.
It's the truth, I don't care what you think of me for it.
I'm scared.
Can't someone else make up my mind?
Or give me select options to pick from?
I don't feel sixteen, don't feel old enough to be sixteen.
An age every little girl can't wait to reach.
But I still love swinging, it's where I find peace.
I still love my stuffies.
I'm still curious and innocent.
I still love my big pink flowers on my blue walls.
And I'm sixteen?

I hate change.
The idea of leaving the school system I'm used to,
Or the people I've grown up with? Since kindergarten?
Sure, it's an experience, something everyone does.
But I don't care.
I don't want to.
But that won't stop anything.
Time is moving fast, to fast for me.
To fast for any adjustments.

I hate the effort that I have to put out.
Get up early in summer.
Go to work.
Babysit, and be a hard ass because I can't handle it.
I'm not a hard ass, in the least. Not really.
Take more criticisms because I can handle it. Apparently.
Listen to adults judge me and my peers; old enough to have an opinion,
Not old enough to speak it.
Take exams, I hate exams.
Try, so hard, to please everybody, even though I can't.
Eat right and work hard, or I can't wear that damn tank top.
And you don't get a break just because you hurt your foot.
Or you are sick.
Do more chores then ever, because all of a sudden there is someone to compete with.
Worry.
Cry.
Think, too much.

Jeezze, I sound like a baby. But that's how I feel. Deal with it, please.