Happy December! If anyone was thinking they would like to spend December in California let me help you re think that. It's supposed to be 82 today. Right now it's 72. I'm in shorts and tank. Welcome to California, enjoy the heat. I remember when I was little we re-wrote the song White Christmas to make it Red-hot Christmas. Yes I've gone swimming in our pool on Christmas day. We've also gone to the beach in December, the waves are choice, but there is something morally wrong with wearing bikinis in December, even if they are under wetsuits. Speaking of wetsuits my fam is all decking out to get their winter suits so that we can go surfing again. I haven't been in so long, and I do miss it a lot. I also miss Disneyland. I need to go soon. Christmas is my favourite time of year at Disneyland. All the lights and glitter and "snow" which is actually soap and a death trap. Trust me. there was an incident last year that involved me, a pair of flip-flops, a damn stroller, and slick pavement covered in "snow". I was bruised. Speaking of bruises did I mention my latest fatality? or fatalities I should say. Last Wednesday I sat funny in my chair and broke it. It would be a great story if it wasn't for the fact that the screw that held the chair together decided to make carne asada out of my thigh. So I have this awesome slice that extends from my mid-thigh to my bum cheek. It's also bruised around it. Then on Monday in an attempt to hook up speakers to Micheal's computer (because mine still sucks at life and I need my music), I dropped the big black thing that sits on top of it on my leg and cut it. It's bruised. I don't know what the crap that thing is either. I think it's a modem or something, but who knows. Then today, I was showering cuz it's what all the cool kids are doing these days, and I was shaving, cuz looking like an ape is so last millennium, and in an attempt to not create more carnage with my razor, I dropped my shampoo on my foot and burst a blood vessel in my toe. I didn't even know I had blood vessels in my toes, but apparently I do. Then as I was running out of the house this morning, I ran into a rose bush and sliced my arm. How do you run into a rose bush? I mean really? And on top of that I bruised my knee and have no idea how... my accident proneness is going to get me killed.
This is California in December.
In other ReallyAshleyYouStillHaven'tLearnedYourLessonAboutHair news I cut my hair. I had about an inch of dead uckiness (yes I said Ucky) that needed to go. I'm growing it out any ways and really impatient for it to just be long again. It was about two inches below my shoulder. It now hits the top of my shoulder. So that sucks kinda. My hair has also been kinda wild lately. Like super curly, wavy, frizzy and big. I don't know why but it's kinda got a life of it's own now, which is cool and all I guess, but seriously it needs to chill, because I'm starting to look like I have permanent sex hair. I'd probably better be careful if I go anywhere near University Avenue. Let's just say there's a lot of hotels with hourly rates down there.
So how was your Thanksgiving (by the by I think I deserve mad props for making that segue)? Mine was really wonderful and relaxing. I saw Twilight again after dinner, which was cool, cuz I actually watched the movie as opposed to Rob Pattinson's gloriousness this time. And there was some cribbage playing, which was just dumb because I got beat by my stupid 11 year old brother, who played for the first time. Beginners luck. But it was really nice.
I'm on the phone with the court and they keep telling me that I can press one now if I have a touch-tone phone. Why is there still a need for this announcement? I just don't understand. Oh By the by, In Style magazine's December issue has a spread on Jennifer Connelly's 10 best dresses and guess what, the horrible romper from the Haus de Von Trapp was not on there. I felt a little justified in my wrath of that piece of crap.
In other news school is almost over. Hallelujah, thank you Jesus! If I have to listen to much more of this, howtobuildahealthyrelationshipinwhichweallgababoutourfeelingsandemotionsand
neversteponanyonestoestoavoidconflictandhurtfeelings crap, I may go crazy. I mean here's the thing, I am a Romantic. Like a real bonefied, heart on my sleeve, craptacular poetry, passionate pain Romantic. I am all for the expressing of self and feelings. But there are some inevitabilities that people just need to learn and get over. Number one: life is going to be utterly ( I hate this word more than anything, but it's appropriate so get over it) shittastic at times. And no matter how long you "talk it out" it's not going to make life any better. Life takes action (and action takes Visa), not a pow-wow. And if you screw up and you need to know it, I am going to use you language to tell you that you are an idiot. I am not going to use I language so that it looks like I am taking the responsibility for your moronirific-ness. So don't tell me that I need to practice I language thankyouverymuch, why don't you practice not being an idiot? And the term social scientist really bothers me. You spend thousands of dollars on a top notch education so you could watch how people interact with each other? Really? I mean that's like majoring in fashion merchandising so you can go shopping. Call yourself a Social Studier. You don't need a scientist at the end to validate your existence. Not that your existence should be validated in my opinion. But that is a rant for another day.
In Novel News, it's coming along very nicely even without my computer (take that you rat bastard). I've been hand writing every day, which sucks but whatever. I had to keep taking breaks yesterday because I was at the really emotionally high point, and kept crying like an idiot as I wrote the dangd thing. Then when I read it to Chelsea I was like "okay chel so this is horribly, pitifully, romantically, painful (which btw is one of the themes of the story), so don't laugh, even if it's cheesy." Then She started bawling and I lost it and ended up finishing reading as mascara flowed down my face. Seriously I don't know my own power. Then because it was so incredibly, sweetly, depressing, I had to switch gears in the next segment and make everything dreamily happy. Except that turned out to be the main character's dream and in reality she was dying. So it was super fun. Actually it was. I'm not gonna lie, I love to cry. Y'know those horribly cheesy Christmas movies that all the TV channels start playing at the end of November? I even tear up at them. I know, I need help. But back to my story, don't worry cuz it's all good and happy in the end and actually with the new holycrapIthinkshemightdie scene it actually wraps up my original plan much nicer. And really it's very beautifully written. Any of the "other last Romantics" would approve.
Okay I swear I'll finish, but I had a musing in the shower this morning. I actually had several, but here's the one you all can hear. I really like being the oldest. Don't get me wrong it has it's draw backs. Like you never got away with anything, while the youngest gets away with murder (and trust me Grace is that evil), of having young parents which translates as idiots, so you couldn't do all the cooleriffic things everyone else you knew got to do, because they were evil and possibly works of the devil. But there are also a lot of perks too. I've been told that I am, and I quote, "annoyingly helpful", and the only people who seem to really appreciate that is my siblings. Lately Chel and Dee have been coming into my room while I'm writing, or picking my toenails or something, and they'll just shoot off all their problems and worries, and laments about boys. Now don't get any ideas mom, cuz I'm not a rat. But there are somethings that are just too embarrassing to tell your mother. I tell my mom everything, and I mean everything, but there are still plenty of things that I could never begin to tell her, because my blushing might make me burst. And sometimes it's good to try out your worries and concerns on someone else before you go to your mom with them. I never really had that. Most of the time I'd keep it all bottled up, until some horribly dramatic thing would make me burst and I'd look crazy. I told you I am a romantic. I still do this to a far lesser degree though. But I am the only one of all my sisters who could do that. I mean on a personality level. I can deal with it, and work it out on my own, for the most part, and move on. But I like to be able to help them. To give them sisterly advice, to tell them, it's okay because you are sixteen and expecting to meet your one true love in the next week is just retarded, so go date the stinkin' boy. I realize that this may seem boring and deranged to other people, but it made me smile. I like to give them hugs and tell them it's all going to be okay, because in all honesty they're young and in retrospect these problems are minuscule, they're important and valid, but minuscule. And really things almost always work out in the end.
Okay so there ya'have it. Have a lovely Monday everyone!
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