The Abbyss

The Kingdom.

2012-02-15T22:24:00.000-05:00

I'm not a crazy health person. I mean, I try to watch what I eat; I'm on the Cross Country and distance Track team; I hardly ever drink pop; I hate junk food. I pretty much cover a basic person. Plus breathing. But recently I have begun to venture down to the chilled basement of my school to go to The Kingdom.

The Kingdom was given to my small school by a grant. Lovingly, it was dubbed "The Gold Center"-- Our school colors and navy blue and Vegas gold. I know, we're flowing with creativity at Hell High! Within The Kingdom, there are a myriad of heavy machinery to subject the creatures to masochistic torture. It's a long strip of land, very tight and very stuffy. There are only 3 sources of hydration in The Kingdom and they are usually occupied by The Kingdom Bimbos twirling their hair and popping gum. Essentially, The Kingdom is my school weight-lifting gym.

There are different species that exist in The Kingdom.

First we have Dubious Dumbbell-- and I'm not talking about the weights.
Location: The Dubious are found mostly in the front of the gym, closest to the entrance to The Kingdom.
Markings: They're usually prepubescent boys, with cut-off sports jerseys with their year of graduation blazoned across the back. "CLASS OF 2016-- WE'RE UNFORGETTABLE!"
Social: They tend to travel in large packs, with hunched shoulders and a case of self-blinding: The "Bieber Hair" is a popular trend among the Dubious, therefore, majority of them lack proper vision, thus causing unpremeditated near-deaths from running into an abs machine… or each other. Or a wall.
Physical Ability: They do the basic machines in front of the gates to The Kingdom and attempt to do rapid sets, with extra weights added just to show The Kingdom that they, too, belong here. Usually this is followed by panting, heaving, moaning, grunting, crying, defecating and possible projectile vomiting. Though results may vary.
Hierarchy: The Dubious are the lowest on The Kingdom tier. They shoot worried looks to The Elders to make sure that they approve of their activities.
Time Spent In Kingdom (TSIK): Usually the Dubious' last in The Kingdom three days a week, with fleeting glances at the clock every 10-minute interval.

Next class we have is the Bothersome Bimbos.

Location: The Bimbos can always be found in the same location: standing around the watering hole. They stand, cracking their gum, cell phone in one hand, portable music device in one hand, hips jutted forward.

Markings: The Bimbos can be a variety of colors. Notable markings include, but are not limited to: bleached hair, dark hair with bleached hair, bleached teeth, bleached eyebrows, bleached bangs, scorched skin, unnatural large hips, painted face, painted eyes, painted lips, shorts skimming butt, tight tank top, t-shirts of a flamboyant variety (cheer camp, cheer squad, cheer tryouts, cheer competition, cheer studio, cheer coach, cheer champion, cheer colony, cheer utopia, cheer communist etc. etc). Oh, and something related to cheering.

Social: Due to their dominant behavior, Bimbos tend to travel alone in The Kingdom. When two Bimbos are spotted in the same territory, it's advised to slowly back away and spray a bottle of tanning lotion to distract them. Or throw a candy bar and watch them hiss and retreat.
Hierarchy: Contrary to their belief, the Bimbos are very low on in the status quo. Though they believe to be near reigners of The Kingdom, they're almost, but not as lowly, as the Dubious.

TSIK: As if they know, the Bimbos are only in The Kingdom when The Elders are.

An interesting species in The Kingdom is the Guileless Geezers.
Location: Known as the most boring of species in The Kingdom, the Geezers exist strictly in the back, near the traveling machines (treadmills) and climbing challenges (elliptical).
Markings: As a species known to arrive to The Kingdom after teaching the entire line of organisms of The Kingdom, the Guileless usually look worn and drawn out after a long day. Sporting rare and vintage items of a time long, long ago, the Guileless choose to remain plain and out of sight.
Social: The Guile will always pact together. If there is not other Guile present, the Guile will remain alone and mute. Perhaps a slight nod of acknowledgement to an elder. But studies show this is rare.
Hierarchy: The Guileless is a class unidentifiable, their hierarchy cannot be formed. However, they lie somewhere below The Elders but far beyond the Bimbos.
TSIK: The Guileless tends to only journey to The Kingdom once a week, due to their need to return to their mate or their young.

Finally, the most important species in The Kingdom are The Elders.
Location: Always found in the back, the Elders receive the most valuable of treasures. They are the only ones allowed to use the most precious metals and crafts.
Markings: Like the Dubious, the Elders can mostly be found in worn and tattered battle gear—memoirs of their past battles won (section champions, county victors, world dominators, etc. etc.) They tend to all blend together, to ensure they are all known across The Kingdom that they are in fact, The Elders.
Hierarchy: You are adopted into The Elders once you’ve mastered all battles and challenges thrown at you during the four-year battle. You’ve reached the top. Occasionally, Legends will return to mentor The Elders—the highest level of hierarchy is a Legend (but Legends returning is a rarity.)
TSIK: It has been said that The Elders have formed small sleeping caves in The Kingdom. They prowl The Kingdom at all hours of the day (or the days and hours Hell is operating.) They have all authority to banish anyone from The Kingdom.

It’s a pretty crazy place, The Kingdom. I exist… in the I-Don’t-Really-Care-I’m-Abby-Freakin’-Stubenbort-You-Can’t-Label-Me species—and what a great species it is.

Just remember one thing; NEVER look a Bimbo in the eye.
Or you will pay.

Rapist vans and Dementors

2012-02-02T20:34:00.001-05:00

Do you know what’s terrifying? Aside from spiders, snakes, tight spaces, clowns and another Nicholas Cage movie, there’s one thing that is absolutely bone-chilling to anyone—specifically teenage girls. That terrifying thing is walking home in the dark.

Now that I have my license, I hardly walk anywhere (pfffffft, walking) but I started training for my track season this week and running at night is a whole different experience. Running in the winter has many pros: constantly overcast so the sun doesn’t blind you; hardly anyone on the sidewalk; the cold air piercing your skin and chilling you to the bone, so your entire body goes numb and you feel invincible, etc. etc. But one thing about the winter is that it gets dark out FAST. I mean, I’m talking, I get home, watch a few episodes of 30 Rock and BAM-- It’s pitch black outside. Now, thinking logically (and being lazy) I usually go running at 5:30, 6:00, after dinner. When I start running, the sun is setting and it’s an ideal running setting. And then it gets FREAKING dark out. Darkness plus helpless teenage girl plus said teenage girl seeing too many Lifetime movies minus street lights is a SCARY situation. Every time a car slows down near you, your breath hitches. Every time a suspicious looking character is by themselves standing around, you start planning your funeral. And today was NO different.

The first time I thought my demise was coming was right as all source of natural light was gone. I was rounding a bend and there was this middle-aged many standing on the corner to which I was running to. Just… standing. My mind started racing. I tried to look for yards that I could run into, cars I could duck behind, rocks I could try to lob. I was so caught up in my plans of not dying, I didn’t realize I reached the man who I assumed was my demise. I helplessly looked into his face, trying to look innocent, his face covered by the night’s shadows… seeing he was on the phone. Talking to what sounded like his distressed wife… while he was waiting at a bus stop. I wanted to smack myself in the face. But luckily, a telephone pole did that for me. JUST KIDDING. I didn’t run into a telephone pole—the telephone pole ran into me. I’ll let you decide if I’m joking or not.

So, I continued my short 2-mile jaunt in the freezing cold. And then I saw him. He was floating towards me so eerily Dementor-like, I could have sworn I saw The Grim nearby. He had this long, flowing black trench coat and long, fuzzed out hair with a scruffy beard to match. Not a cute Zach Galifianakis beard—a full-on scary-as-shit beard. And he was picking up speed… or so I thought. But, I was running, so naturally everything moves faster. Hah. That would be if I ran fast. Anyways, I was CERTAIN that my death was going to be met by this mysterious looking figure. I couldn’t run anywhere. I was on a mildly occupied street and there were bushes all on my left and parked cars on my right. He could have easily grabbed me in the dark without a blink from the traffic on the street. My heart started pounding and I secretly begged Goddess Rowling to send me my magic right NOW. I would give up all my magic after, if I could cast just ONE Stupefy spell right now. But I didn’t need it. Again, as I let my mind wander into the world without me and how Tumblr could never go on without me, I reached my murderer. He was one of the dudes that played Magic: The Gathering at the local coffee shop. AKA, a harmless 3-year-ago graduate, who wouldn’t get up to kill a fly, let alone a dumb teenage girl. He was wobbling and walking slower than a grizzly bear. I was in the clear.

AND THEN. And then I saw the universal sign of teenage girl terror—a white van. I saw this van THREE times. Not ONCE, not TWICE, but THREE friggin’ times. The first was about a half mile into my run. The sun was still up and I wasn’t concerned. The second was when I was running back to my house while I was still on the main street; I was a little queasy, but I thought I was fine. And then I was on a back street without streetlights about 3 minutes from my house. The white van pulls onto the tight street and sits there. Just sitting there. I’m running towards my death. Literally. All those war analogies Nicholas Sparks sprinkled throughout his “works of art” would be relevant NOW. Not when a teenage girl is dying of leukemia. I had no idea what to do. I was certain I was going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die right now. Darren and I will never have the perfect wedding. Bo won’t know how to go on. Who will eat the Nutella in my house!? are just some of the thoughts that were flying around my brain. I wanted to cry, but my face was frozen into a constant state of fierce determination—not that I was a determined runner or ANYTHING. My face was just literally frozen like that. I reached the van. It was a florist van. THE FREAKING VAN WAS BRINGING FLOWERS TO THE ELDERLY LADY THAT LIVES ON THE CORNER. They were doing their end-of-the-day deliveries and I classified them as murderers. Who does that!? Who calls the nice flower people that brings flowers to little, senile old ladies murders!? I’m sick! I’m horrible! I think Slytherin would kick me out of the house! I’m bad! Not even my own house will let me in!

Here’s a tip kids, if you think you’re ever going to be murdered, make sure that you don’t classify every single person on the street as the person who will slit your throat. I might be paaaaaaaaaaarnooooid. Thank you Nick, Kevin and Joe; for once, your song is relevant.

HOLY CRAP, WHAT'S THIS "BLOGGING" THING?

2012-01-26T21:28:00.000-05:00

Blooooooooooooooggggggg, hiiiiiiiii!

Imagine me running towards you, arms outstretched, my large floppy hat (yes, of course those are back in style) flying off my head, the ribbon tied at my neck, keeping it attached to me as it falls to my back, my long floral dress being picked up as I dash tirelessly towards you. We embrace and all the warm and familiar feelings are BACK.

I'm baaaaaaaaacccccck.

Hi! Wow. It's been quiteeeeee some time. And boy, oh, boy, do I have some things to discuss tonight. As per usual, this is an update-y type blog, but come ON, I've been away for a while. Let me have my narcissistic moment.

I have several topics I want to discuss tonight.

1. I took a reprieve from the Internet for some time (topic #2--be patient) and I've decided I would like to change a few things. 2011, though a great year of self-discovery, existed solely online. I met so many people, so many things happened and I blossomed completely anew. But that was bad--well, in the end it turned bad (topic #3--shh, just stay with me here). I've decided that even though I love the Internet and everything it offers me, I cannot live online anymore. I can't be constantly checking Twitter and scrolling through Tumblr. I need to live. And that's exactly what I've been doing. I took (my second) a week long break from Twitter and figured out that my life is easier and a lot more refreshing when I'm using my eyes to see what's in front of and around me instead of on my phone screen. I haven't been this content in a while. Also, I'm rethinking how I'm going to operate my YouTube channel. Rest assured, I'm still going to make videos, but I'm going to take it down a notch. My videos uploaded now took me nearly 6 hours for every one--time I don't have anymore. I borrowed my school's MacBook (WHICH, I've become an Apple fangirl this past month--I can't wait to get my MacBook Pro in June <333) and filmed a video which will be up sometime in February. It's very basic. Veeeeery basic. Sleek and to the point. Exactly what I want. That's where I plan on taking my channel. As much as I love to take time in putting together a video, something I thoroughly enjoy doing, I'm not going to have to time anymore. Track starts in March and doesn't end until May, which leads to my final weeks of high school, which leads to the summer, which leads to vacation, which leads to orientation, which leads to college. I HAVE NO TIME. Though I'm so excited beyond belief, I'm short (heh) on time. Not to mention, I'm job hunting, so time is going to be even more limited. I'm excited I'm busy and active. It's keeping my head in place. I'm reading a lot more, too, which is excellent. AHHH SIDETRACK. Anyways, yes, YouTube. I'll be uploading the video I filmed tonight (spoiler alert: it's valentine's day themed) probably first week of February. I also have a video of Kels and me making a rock...yeah. ANYWAYS, ANYWAYS. This topic is over with.

2. Where I've been is an excellent question that needs explaining. I had a very rocky month (topic #3...just wait, just wait). I needed to clear my head and get away for a while. And I had to do that. The only way I saw that I can bounce back into being me was separating myself from the thing that I both loved and hated. So, I took an Internet break. I deleted my Twitter apps and made Kelsey force me to barely ever check it--and it worked. I've since put it back on my phone, in Kelsey's presence, with her sworn promise to not let me become addicted again. And I think it will work. She's the most wonderful person ever and wants solely the best for me, so I can count on her to help me mentally. Also, if you are ever in a very low point in your life (topic #3,) I honestly hope you have someone as wonderful as Kelsey to get you through it. I'm talking IRL. She's there for me through thick and thin and I honestly could never ask for someone better than she. GUSH OVER. Back to Internet. Though I love and adore all of the people and relationships I've formed online, I need to get my head out of cyberspace and focus on the present. I've done that and I'm happy. My relationship with my parents is back to regular and my house is finally happy and peaceful again. So, I'm not going to be AS active as I was before. Yes, I'm obviously STILL going to Tweet about eating and do these dumb blogs and make videos and reblog pictures of Selena Gomez (love love love love,) but I'm going to chill out. I'm going to take a breath of reality and put myself in the present...which leads me tooooooooooo...

TOPIC NUMBER THREE: So. I ended 2011 and started 2012 in a very confused and emotional state. Though I'm not going to go anywhere near specifics, something happened that hurt me tragically both emotionally and mentally. Essentially, my entire world crashed to my feet in a day. I've never had such gut-wreching emotional pain before. It was to a point where I went numb for hours--physically, emotionally and mentally. I hit rock bottom. I am so, so utterly blessed to have Alexa, Izzy, Gwen, Cece, Laney and Emma in my life. I would not have gotten through ANYTHING without them. I had to face reality. I had to pick myself up and start being me again. It's been hard. It's been really, really hard. And whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever the hell that saying is, is full of shit. The thing about missing someone is that it hits you in a part where you don't know how to heal. It's like, the littlest thing reminds you of them. It could be something as dumb as a commercial on TV, and you instantly think of that person. Going hand-in-hand with missing people, is the adventure of discovering yourself. Reinventing, as Emma calls it. I've learned a lot about myself these past few weeks. I learned I'm stronger than I thought. I also learned that when outside help is given, I've become able to accept it. Talking about things to people make it easier. I spent months bottling in emotions and thoughts and feelings that I never could fully express. And I willingly brought them forward. But I learned I can handle this. The countless nights of emotional swelling and bubbling over have been swept under the table. Forgive and forget. Not so much forgive as to forget. Forgetting is very difficult and nearly impossible, but I have to. All of this emotion I learned to put in the back of my head. I don't want to forget everything that I went through last year, but I think it's for the best. I need it to be gone. I'm learning to be me. I'm learning to be Just Abby. Not Internet Abby. Not AbbyNever. Just Abby. That's who I want to be. And I'm learning to do that by focusing on the present. I spent almost my entire last year thinking about the future. Things I couldn't have until the future. Things I couldn't do until the future. Someone I wanted to be in the future. And then the past month, I spent living in the past. Thinking about everything that happenened in the past. I can't do that anymore. I literally can't. I wiped my head clean of the past and my future desires. When my dad used to help me with math homework when I was little and I tried to fly through it because I hated it, he always told me, "Sometimes in life in order to go faster, you need to slow down." So that's what I'm doing. Slowing down. That's my life's goal right now. To slow down and take the present one day at a time. I made a new blog dedicated to that. slowingdowntospeedup.tumblr.com. It's a picture blog (one of the millions on Tumblr) but it's for me to appreciate every day. I don't want these moments on Facebook because that's far too public, and they'll be lost on Twitpic. Also, they'll start to clog up my phone. So I made this blog to help me appreciate the little things. To slow down and to see that my life is beautiful. And I've finally realized that.

WOW. If you've reached this point, pat yourself on the back and watch this as an award.

Also, please know, I am very, very happy right now. I'm not sad/depressed/emotional/nostalgic/blah blah blah. I'm very happy where I am right now.

I'm going to attempt to keep this updated as best as I can, but I've made that promise many times... :D You love me.

Until next time, slow down and stay beautiful. <3

I have been

2011-12-22T22:10:00.002-05:00

Hello, blog.

I haven't actually sat down and wrote anything for a few weeks, partly because of laziness and mainly because I don't feel like being angsty anymore on this blog. Though I'm aware it's mine and my escape to be me and divulge any sort of emotional turmoil inside of me, I find looking back at older posts where I was sad and depressive makes me...sad and depressive.

So, this blog is going to be a...where-I-Am-In-My-Life-Right-Now sort of deal. I'm kinda just going to type, I think, and see what happens.

So, here we go.

Right now, it's December 22, 2011. I'm eating dry Cinnabon cereal and drinking an Arizona tea while I talk to my friend, Jocie, who lives in Australia. Exactly a year ago, I didn't know her. Exactly a year ago, I wouldn't be blogging. Exactly a year ago, I wouldn't have anyone to read this blog.

So much as happened this year. I fell into the Internet community in late January, early February and since then, my life has been flipped around, altered, messed up, made for the better and collapsed—multiple times. I met so many people—people that don't even live near me. My best friends live in 3 different states—none of which are mine. I can tweet that I'm sad and a dozen or so people will attempt to comfort me. I can record a video of me singing into a hairbrush and people will watch it. That was not like that last year.

I discovered YouTube and the community that lies within it. I discovered new music, vlogging, “Internet” relationships, and so much more. I felt like I belonged there though. The first blogTV show I went to was of Mike Lombardo's and I honestly had no idea what to do. Or how to act. I barely knew him, I barely knew the people in there. I knew Charleen and that was about it. I didn't feel awkward, though. I felt that the people I was talking with felt the same draw to the Internet and the music that I liked. We were all linked virtually. Though I wasn't physically there with them, I still felt that they had good intentions. That's when I began to drop my guard and begin to actually friend people.

The Skype Chat of Sexy Champions. That's where it all began. I friended Char's friend, Alissa, and shortly thereafter, she decided to put me in the “chat full of the other Mike fans!” That's where I met Adam, Nick, Meredith and Lauren. And Alexa. Everyone was so welcoming to me (except Alexa). Later that night, we had a rap battle and I rapped 'Superbass' by Nicki Minaj and took the crown home of rap champion.

That chat was literally my life for months. Everyday at school I would just think about something that happened the night before and laugh at how hysterical these people were. They were genuine and kind and caring and had intelligent thoughts and we had similar tastes. They weren't like my school friends. The chat of Char, Alissa, Meredith, Adam, Nick, Lauren and me was one of the best things to happen to me on the Internet. If it wasn't for that chat, I'd definitely not be how I am today.

Being in that Skype chat made me recognize the relationships I was forming. Alexa and I soon became attached at the (virtual) hip. I never met her. I knew her for a few months and I trusted her with everything. We shared everything in common and I didn't need to process any of my thoughts, I just spoke. And she listened. She introduced me to her collab channel of Jocie, Rebecca, Kelsey, Harry and Sarah. And of course, The Twins.

I remember the first night I ever Skyped with the Twins. We had a cookie date and we made tons of cookies and I barely ate any. I was too busy laughing at how adorable the Twins were, as Kelsey, Alexa and I just laughed at the fact that everything just seemed fine. Nothing was wrong.

Slowly I began to branch more out into the community—mainly Michael's community. I began talking to more people and making more videos (aided by my collab channel with Linn, Alissa, Katy, Mere and myself). I was happy, I was content.

I sometimes began to lose confidence, though. As Junior year got more stressful, I became more and more anxious. I started doubting things and questioning my relationships with people and what I wanted out of life and was placed under the stress of figuring out what college I wanted to go to and what I wanted to do with my life in a year.

But I had people to help me. Though not physically, I had my “online” friends that I made that were consoling me and helping me think what I wanted. I never met any of them in person.

Summer came. I was bound and determined to get to see my friends. I needed to be with them. Thankfully, the ConTour arrived and a few weeks later, I was sharing a bed with Alexa while she kicked me in her dormant state, while the Twins were tossing their laptop back and forth between each other on air-mattresses on the floor in my room. I met Michael. I met Laney. I met Cece. I met the Twins. I met Alexa. All for the first time. But none of those meetings felt like the first time. All of them I felt like I've known forever. Alexa especially. She's felt like a sister I just lost touch with for 16 years, and then popped right up. Nothing felt out of place.

And then I went to RYLA. I can honestly say, that camp changed me more than any other experience I've had in my life. I discovered myself. I learned how to handle my emotions. I learned that my “problems” aren't problems. There are people that need things. I don't “need” anything. I opened myself up to a room full of strangers. I left feeling like I was leaving my family. I can't ever explain to anyone what camp did to me. “Oh, you went to leadership camp?” It's hard to explain the things I experienced in one short week,much like how it is difficult to explain our zany Internet world.

Summer capped off with an extremely emotional month of August for me, which led into an agitated state going into Senior year. I wanted out. Cross country season came in went, performed horribly with an injured hip. Powerpuff came and went. Homecoming came and went (though attending with a European boy was a bonus).

Looking back, my Senior year IS going by fast. I can't believe that it's a week until a new year comes. A new year. 2012. My graduating year. I got the letter of my first choice school today. I'm going to be a college student in a few months. In a little over 5 months, I will 18-years-old and a legal adult.

My life is changing before my eyes. It's changing because of the Internet. It's changing because I know all of you. It's changing because I've had experiences I never thought I would have. I have matured. I have gained knowledge. I have been exposed. I have been lied to. I have been hurt. I have been neglected. I have been called a best friend. I have been called a sister. I've been trusted. I have been a source of help. I have been pushed aside. I have been emotionally unstable. I have been lonely. I have been loved. I have been gleefully happy. I have been unsure. I have been tired. I have been done with everything. I have been nostalgic. I have been wanted and left empty-handed. I have been a bad friend. I have been a good friend. I have been confident. I have been insecure. I have been sure. I have been at a complete at loss. I have been angry. I have been compassionate.

I have been Abby who trusts everyone.

I have been Abby who refuses to get hurt.

I have been Abby who is indecisive.

I have been Abby who can make up her mind.

I have been places that I never thought I would experience.

I have been through 2011.

And I have been ready for 2012.

Thank you guys for being in my life.

You really have no understanding of how much every single one of you mean to me.

Without you, I'd be absolutely and positively, broken.

Thank you.

From the bottom of my heart.

Stay beautiful. <3

Sometimes I show people what I write

2011-12-08T22:13:00.002-05:00

El bloggo!

Is it okay if I force that to be the Spanish form of blog? Alright, cool, cool. So, my week has been quite an adventure of emotions in AbbyNeverland! But, I'm going to ignore the beginning of this week because right NOW I am more than content. Teenagers, man. They have more emotions than Germans have a beer-lust. Well, no. Actually, no they don't. Have you ever seen Germans at their best...err...drunkest? YEAH, DON'T.

So, tonight I want to talk about confidence—kinda, sorta. I partially wrote a blog before about confidence, if I recall quickly, but this one is more about confidence in your creations.

Believe it or not, I'm NOT as confident as you all believe me to be. I'm actually pretty insecure when it comes to showing others things I've produced. Every YouTube video, I watch at least 10 times before uploading, literally at battle with myself to see if it is good enough and if people will like it. I constantly think everyone HATES everything I'm doing ALWAYS.

So, naturally, when I was told to write an ironic and humorous creative writing piece for my English 12 AP class, I went into hysterics of worry. Now, you would assume that being my major, I was relaxed and ready to dominate the assignment. NOPE. Well, yes. At first, I was so excited I'm pretty sure I was bouncing up and down in my chair. Kelsey can more than likely confirm that.

But then as I sat down at the computer, the cursor blankly blinking at me, waiting to follow every keystroke, I panicked. I panicked so much that I peed 3 times while writing the first 3 sentences. I knew where I wanted to take it, but where it was going was a different story.

What if he hates it? What if he tells me to change my major? What if he tells me I suck? What if he says someone else is his number one student?! WHAT IF HE SAYS JOANNE KATHLEEN ROWLING WILL SHAKE HER HEAD IN DISAPPOINTMENT!??!

See, these were all things that were flashing through my head the first 30 minutes of dire hysteric English homework drafting. So then I went and ate a cracker and sat at my dining room table and stared at a knock on the wall until it conformed into shapes so obscure, I'm sure I saw the mansion from A Series of Unfortunate Events.

But somehow, some way, I finished my “short” story (short here meaning 6 pages double spaced when it was only supposed to be two. My college professors are literally going to skin me alive) and saved it and crossed every finger and toe hoping for the best.

I haven't heard back his response, but I'm going to show you my story. It's not very good. Okay wait. I need to stop saying this. I'm actually pretty proud of this piece. I mean, it's not the best of my ability because it was scrawled out in about an hour, but I think it has just enough humor to satisfy the average teen.

I present to you, Green Eyes.

Green Eyes

A short story by Abby Stubenbort

Today will be the day I will speak to Him.

Today my conversation with Him will fall outside of the “splutter-hihowareyou-splutter-I'm-the-biggest-dork-ever” category.

Today, I am going to ask Him a series of important questions to ensure He is, in fact, the Man of My Dreams—even though, I'm quite sure that is confirmed by my obsession-induced stalking of him periods 2-7, when our ho humdrum paths cross at just the opportune moment-- a moment, I will fully take credit of ensuring happens everyday.

The questions, in descending order of importance, are as follows:

When presented in a Zombie Apocalypse, what is your first weapon you are to reach for?
Yes or no-- Did that previous question seem cliché to you?
Did Severus Snape's storyline—mostly the climax of his story in the 7^th novel—cause an emotional impact so severe that you barricaded yourself in your room for 3 days straight, consuming only Nutella by the spoonful and flat bottles of Mountain Dew?
Mario or Luigi?
Burt's Bees or Blistex?

THESE ARE IMPORANT QUESTIONS. Really, they are. I mean, how jaded is the Zombie Apocalypse question anymore? Any male that could give me a full fledged description of how to stop a Zombie Apocalypse and does not include the use of plants, is, in absolutely no way, my type. Plants vs. Zombies. The answer lies at a click of our mouse!

Anyone with any sense of acknowledgment of my existence can fully confirm my utter and disgusting love for the prince charming hidden by a layer of hair grease, Severus Snape. Which, granted the people that acknowledge such a fact, are and are limited to: my gay best friend who is infatuated with another male, so not-gay, that it boggles even the most trained minds in the Psychology field how someone so gay can fall for someone so...not gay; my mother, a plump woman in her late 40s, divorced and struggling to juice any sense of teenage spirit out of her only spawn [see a.] that she insists on partaking in shopping escapades so grandiose, Paris Hilton's head would spin; and finally,The Latina cleaning lady that works the late shift at the local Panera on Mondays and Wednesdays and has come to appreciate my inability to show any sign of emotion while she goes on emotional tirades of how “Juan Julio has better protect his 'chimichangas' or else a Mexican Inquisition would look muy bien when I'm through with him.”

Green is also my favorite color.

Blistex has a layer of oil that I would only appreciate on the scalp of a man brewing a potion in a cauldron.

Thus, I created the Ferocious Five-- the most important list of questions any man shall answer.

I've spotted Him.

The way He leans against His locker, sweater tight across chest, dark brown hair falling slightly in his eyes—green, for that matter –can, and I guarantee would, cause Zac Efron's fan girls to leave the Disney fade-out and come running to His tall, and muscular build faster than you can say “Breaking Free.”

I can do this.

I am a smart, boringly pretty, kind and a headstrong individual.

I can do this.

I can talk to Him

Oh my god, what are you thinking! Turn around! Let Him talk to you!

No! I will not bend to the patriarchy! I am a strong woman.

Hello, it's Susan B. Anthony calling. She wants her mantra back.

Oh my god He's made eye contact.

Stay cool. Stay cool.

Jut go casually walk up to Him.

No! What are you doing! Stop! Stop swinging your arms!

If I look happy and buoyant He'll fall under my charm! I can do this!

No! No you can't! What are you doing! Stop!

He's only a few classrooms down. This will be easy. I can totally do this.

Oh my god, do I need to actually go and get Zac Efron to sing you the lunchroom song? STICK TO THE STATUS QUO. Do not endanger the measly social life you already have!

It's not a big deal! He's just a guy. No biggie.

Just a guy? JUST a guy? Whose name is written all over your English journal?

No.

WHOSE name did you write all over your hand during your SATs after you finished?

No.

JUST a guy? JUST a guy? That's like saying, “Oh, Mean Girls is just a movie.”

No, He's just a guy. I'm just a girl. Look, He's right there.

Oh, He's caught my eye again!

Look, He's waving.

See, there's nothing wrong here!

I'm just a girl and He's just a guy.

Oh my god.

His eyes.

Are so green.

He's opening his mouth.

Did he just say hi?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!

“Mmmmahhhh.”

SPEAK. SPEAK IN ENGLISH.

“Um, hiiiiiiiiiii.”

OH MY GOD WHAT AM I DOING.

No.

Nononononononono.

No I cannot do this. I cannot do this.

No way.

I told you!

I am a dull, noticeably appalling, cruel and submissive individual.

Did He just ask if I was okay?

Yes! YES HE DID.

Is my eye twitching?

Oh lord, have mercy.

This is not a time to me making Full House [see b.] jokes!

He's staring at me.

Why is He staring at me!?

Because he's waiting for you to speak!

The list.

The list the list the list.

Questions.

It's as if my brain has stopped working.

…..........

“Um, Zombies with the Plants are actually really cool and like, sometimes I really want to be a chap stick because I like Green and Italian Plumbers but only the ones that are taller because I like taller guys and you're tall and my favorite color is green and I like greasy-haired wizards that mix stuff together like Nutella and I think my brother is paging me. Um in my head. Because we can do that. Because I. I like turtles.”

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN.

What did I just do What did I just do What did I just do.

No.

No!

He is NOT just a guy!

He's not!

He's not He's not He's not

Oh my.

Oh my god.

Don't look back, don't look back

Why did you look back!

He's confused. He's looking at me.

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN.

It's easier to like a guy when you're just stalking him.

You know, I've actually never really liked guys with green eyes.

-----

a. Me, an only child as due to my father's inability to, and God strike me dead after writing this, “get it up.”

b. After a summer of having surgery on my knee after a more than embarrassing stunt that I'd like to not speak about, but does include an office chair, a box of fireworks and a rush of teenage spirit, I found myself watching an inordinate amount of the family fun sitcom. I even bought the box set that comes in a little house. The best line is from the episode when Michelle bellows and claims the cake on the table. And that was the last time an Olsen twin ever ate.

Taaaa-daaaaaaaa. :x

My Brain-- 12/1/11

2011-12-01T22:26:00.002-05:00

Nooooooooo.

Nooo.

Nooooo.

Alarm, why?

Why, alarm?

Do I really have to get out of bed?

Oh my god, I do.

Oh shit.

It is cold.

Why don't I wear clothing when I sleep?

Where are my pants?

Oh, there.

No. That's my jacket.

Pants, where are my freaking pants!

Oh. Found them.

Goddamit, that light is bright.

Holy SHIT.

I look rough in the morning.

If I tilt my head like this, does it make me look like I have sexy sex hair?

God, no.

Jesus, I look like an ogre.
What was Shrek's wife's name?

Felicity?

Fran?

Fido?

No, that's a dog.

Why is my toothbrush in the toilet paper basket?

Franny?

What do I wear today?

Can I wear yoga pants?

I wore yoga pants yesterday.

So, who are you trying to impress?

True.

But oh my god, I'll look like a homeless man f I wear yoga pants 2 days in a row.

Fabia?

Okay, a skirt and tights is like not wearing pants.

But what shirt do I wear with this?

Why do I not own a brown sweater?

Doesn't Chewbacca kinda look like that thing from The Muppets?

My hair is a mess, dear lord.

Okay, mom, yes, I'm coming.

Oh, shiiiiiiiiiit. My deodorant just exploded everywhere.

Francisca?

This stupid bag is still ripped.

Why is cold?

Why am I awake?

Fay?

I hate this place I hate this place I hate this place I hate this place.

Aren't you a 7^th grader?

Did you seriously just tell your friend you have to tell her about your 'first time'?

I sure hope your first time means first time eating off of the adult T.G.I.Fridays menu.

Where is my pen Where is my pen Where is my pen

What are you wearing?

Do you think that looks okay—oh my god, STOP bending over.

I can see your ass! I can see your ass!

Why do Freshman exist.

Why. What. I just. I don't know.

Fara?

Please get out of my way.

I will hit you with this door.

Okay, yeah, that's cool.

Cut me off.

What do you mean you couldn't see me?

Oh my god, I just want to eat.

Please do not speak to me while I am opening my locker.

Or like, ever.

Oh thanks, I like your coat, too.

No, I actually don't.

Was that rude?

Dude, I don't even care.

I need to copy Kelsey's homework.

But that is such a far walk.

Why didn't I do this last night?

Faith?

Maybe if I just lay here and don't move they'll send the custodial staff after me.

They eat pizza all day and watch Family Guy.

I can back that sorta thing.

Oh wait, no ew. That one guy's beard has, like, beavers living in it.

Why is the bell ringing?

Taco Bellllllllllll.

Maybe if I just don't move they won't see me.

Nope.

Okay, I'll get up.

No, I don't know what is the next step in photosynthesis.

No, I won't book my book away.

Are you laughing at your own jokes?

You just made a science joke.
No one understands what you're talking about!

Fawne?

I'm just going to lay my face down.

I'm just relaxing my face.

Maybe if I sweep my hair in my face, I'll look deep in thought.

Why is the bell so loud?

I want to take a nap.

This floor looks nice.

Wait, no.
I bet little kids peed on this floor.

Oh my god, the Foods room smells like vomit.

I think they cooked a rat.

Or like, a bunch of rats.

Fern?

Oh, joyous.

Small children that I need to take responsibility for.

Oh, lovely.

A fire drill.

Kid's hands are so small.

I would win every single time at hot hands.

Is that child abuse if I make a 4-year-old play hot hands?

Damn, it is cold.

WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?

We are outside in the cold.
You are four.

Why are you laughing!

Oh okay.

Let's go the long way back in.

Why is that bell so loud?

Fifi?

Wasn't that the she-dog on The Rugrats?

And like, Spike fell in love with her?

I want to go to Paris.

Dude, soup sounds so good right now.

Oh, sure, let me go make copies for you.

Since, you know, this is my Newspaper independent study.

Are you training me to be a real life Pam Beasley?

Minus the art.

Writing is art?

Is it?

Please don't make eye contact with me Please don't make eye contact with me

Shit

Smile!

Look happy.

I'm not happy.

Flo?

I am happy.

I hate this place I hate this place I hate this place.

Oliver Cromwell.

Yeah, he was a bad ass.

I don't care about this.

Why did I finish that quiz so quickly?

I think I just aced that.

But what if I failed?

What is that blob on the ceiling?

It looks like corn.

I need to pull up my tights.

If I stick my hand down my skirt, are people going to think I'm insane?

Boobs are so weird.
This bra is digging in my back.

Study hall.

Let's sleep.

I want to read.

Flower?

Well, all hope of sleeping was lost.

Kelsey and Maggie distract me too much.

I love English.

Mr. McDonald and his sexual innuendos—you make my day.

Please keep talking about your children.
You are so smart.

Are you singing...

Are you singing...Hot Chelle Rae?

You are. Oh lord have mercy, you are.

Wait.

Katy Perry?

Are you...are you singing Katy Perry?

You are the perfect man.

Goblins!

Trooooooooooooll in the dungeon.

Why is there no banana?

Banana is to penis as melon is to breast.

Wait.

Are the goblins boys?

Did they rape her?

Frida?

Oh my god, fooooooooood.

Wow. I hate pretty much everyone in here.

That's a harsh word.

Oh, but it's true.

Oh, you are a teenager.

Stop yelling!

Shh!

Why are you yelling!

Did you seriously just get into a shove-off over a breadstick?
This is 8^th grade all over again.

8^th grade.

Ew.

I was so weird.

Remember the guitar pick necklace?

I wonder if I still have that...

DOUBLE BREADSTICKS, AYI YIYIYIYIYIYIYIYI

Oh my god, I'm so fat.

Oh my god, I don't even caaaaaaare

Please get inside of me, breadstick.

Oh.

These are so good.

Mmm.

Did I moan?
Did I just moan eating a breadstick?

Heh heh.

Sexual innuendo by my mind—aw yeah.

Noooooo.

No, just let me here and eat.

Leave me here to die.

Oh, no.

Why am I folding papers in my Communications independent study?

This is boring.

I'm falling asleep.

Her body will lie in the chamber forever.

Oh, Kelsey made a joke.
Laugh!

Hahahaha.

Good job.

Oh, I'm falling asleep again.

Fajita?

I wonder what it's like to be narcoleptic.

Can fish be narcoleptic?

Swedish Fish sound so good right now.

Spanish class.

No me gusta thinking-o.

Let's just slide back and forth in my seat.

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Backward.

Now it looks like I have an itchy butt.

Oh my god, remember on Nintendogs when they scratched their butts on the ground?

Hahah!

Oh.

Did I just laugh out loud?

Oh, I did.

Woops.

BOOM BOOM BOOM NOW LET ME HEAR YOU SAY WAYHO

Don't look out the door, Don't look out the door

Aw, you did.

Now look at that slutty Freshman.

I heard she sent her nudes around.

Why do Freshman send nudes to upperclassmen?

Are you really that stupid?

They're going to show other dudes.

You've got to be kidding me.

Why are there two males wrestling on the ground?

I think the one just called the other a derogative term for female genitalia.

Oh, thank the heavens the bell rang.

Nathan is driving us home?

Why is his band's tour van so biiiiiiiiig?

It's so biiiiiiig and I'm so liiiiiiiiiiittle.

I keep making sexual jokes, STOP.

I can't see.

The sun is hurting my eyes.

Oh sweet jesus, I'm Edward Cullen.

MY HAND IS SPARKLING.

Fleur?

My mom is outside with my dog.

Bandit.

He is so fat.

And is chewing my hand.

School was good, mom.

No, nothing happened, mom.

Why are there so many steps?

I think I need to open the door.

I need to take my clothes off.

All the clothes.

They are coming off.

Why are shirts a thing?

Sweatshirt is fine.

Bed

Where?

Oh. There.

Mmm.

This is so comfortable.

I will never leave you bed.

You smell good.
You're welcome.

My butt is cold.

FIONA!

Getting over it.

2011-11-17T21:25:00.001-05:00

Woah, woah, woah.

Blog. It has been a while.

Hello! So, I apologize for my sudden disappearance and neglect of you guys, but rest assured! I am back! I’ve just been swamped with school work and Powderpuff (Senior [close] victory! Yeah!) So, now here I am. Thursday night and my hands flailing across this shoddy keyboard, chewing gum harder than the average human and angrily listening to Katy Perry. Why angrily? Because you’re so gay and you don’t even like boys. No, really. I’m not mad. Which is what my topic is about tonight!

But hang on a sec! I of course need to keep you all updated on my life. Um, um, um. Where did I leave off? *Goes to check blog* Oh, okay. So my last 2 blogs were pretty stupid. Okay. So things of importance... Well, I went to John Carroll today (my top choice if you are new here…which hardly anyone is) and they ultimately told me I was accepted without handing me a letter/ openly saying “YOU’RE ACCEPTED!!1!” However, I was told to “not worry anymore” and “focus on getting scholarship money” so…yeah. That’s happening. HEYO, CLEVELAND.

Other than that, life has been pretty mellow and far from exciting. But emotional. And tonight I want to just talk to you guys one on one. But in a group and public format. Eh, we can be a little more intimate here on The Abbyss (super awesome header made by my lovely and charming and fantastic friend, Deanna).

So, you know those nights where you just have a total emotional breakdown and you just sit up all night crying and thinking about everything? And you constantly think you’re going to disappoint or hurt someone somehow or way? And then you just feel this empty gaping hole in the pit of your stomach that literally feels like it’s sucking you in? And you try and you think so hard why you’re feeling this way, but you just can’t seem to come to terms with yourself?

Welcome to my life.

I’ve had far too many nights like these in the past months that I’ve been able to pull myself away from the situation and regroup. I’ve always been an emotional person. I’ve always been one to over-think and over-analyze everything someone says to me or does to me. I’m still like that. I don’t know why, I just am. So, for obvious reasons, the littlest things seem to eat away at me.

I don’t have a hard life. I really don’t. The problem with me is I expect way too much out of people—not in the vanity sense, but in the sense that I live in fantasy. I live in this world where everything I want to happen happens and everyone is happy and at ease with everything. It’s a great world—but it’s not real.

And I learned how to pull away from that recently. I’ve learned I just need to calm down. I need to stop being upset and miserable all the time because that’s just going to cause the icy feeling in my stomach to reform, and quite frankly, I’d rather be doused in lava than sit with that pain for nights. Just relax. That’s what I’ve been saying to everyone it seems like, but I mean it. Just relax. Honestly, things will work themselves out.

I’ve always been someone to “live in the moment.” I hate planning things out because you never know where life is going to take you. For example, where I am now, there was not even a chance of me GUESSING a year ago who I’m friends with, what my Internet life exists of, so on and so forth. Even 5 months ago. So much has changed. So much has happened. So much will happen. It’s a daunting vision to sit and think about your life and where it’s going, but if you just keep your head on straight, it’s fine.

Also, stop hating yourself. Whether it is personality wise, beauty, academically, anything. Just stop. I’ve changed so many times for myself and other people (10^th grade. Boy of “my dreams.” I don’t even want it ever to be brought up). By you hating yourself, you’re not going to live a positive life. Quite the opposite. You’re going to wake up every day hating everything. I can guarantee you, if I wake up in a bad mood, something happened the night before that rubbed me the wrong way. And again, 9/10 that “something” is more of an “Abby over-reaction” which is far more likely than I would anticipate consciously. But then I just tell myself to get over it. And I do.

Just be happy. Really. That’s what it comes down to. I mean, I’m not Doctor Phil here, and I don’t want to come off as condescending to you guys, which it ultimately the complete opposite of my intentions, but I just want you guys to relax. I know what’s it like to be upset/lonely/angry/betrayed/lied to/left hopeless/ and just sad in general. I get it, I really do. But really. Step back for a minute and think about the situation. Is it fixable? Can you get over it? Is it affecting you so much that you’re endangered? Hopefully the answers to those are solvable and you’re able to move on.

Just relax. And just get over it. Right now, those are my mottoes and I hope you took at least something from this. Again, as I say time after time, if any of you ever need anything. I am always here for you guys. Usually my advice isn’t the best but just know you have someone there that will listen to you.

Stay Beautiful.

Stay Calm. <3

Hopefully next week I'll find a way to be funny again. But like. That's rare. -.-

Assuming the assumptions about the assumed.

2011-10-13T22:22:00.001-04:00

Heyo, Blogsphere!

It’s Thursday again, and guess what! Guess what! “What, oh wonderful blogger, Abby?” says you, eyes full of glistening wonder. Well, you, I will tell! I have a topic tonight! Hold your applause, hold your applause. It’s merely an idea and I’m kind of betting on the hope that the words will flow the way I want to, otherwise I’ll have to delete everything and start from the start. I’ll let you know if that happens or not. Or, I won’t. THEN YOU’LL NEVER KNOW.

Okay, I want you to think about your typical football player at your school. Stereotypically, they’re burly, stocky, taller than usual, possibly equipped with a snarky attitude? Right, okay. So, you have that image in your head. Snarky. Burly. Two words equipped with a negative connotation, right? When you think of them, you think “harsh” or “brusque” right? What about “fatherly”? Or “patient”? Wouldn’t think of those, would you? The reason I’m bringing this up is because I’m sick of assumptions. I’m tired of people thinking they always assume correctly; that they understand the person just simply from the exterior of their being.

Perfect example: The reason I said football player, is because there is a football player in my Child Care class at school. We are responsible for educating 4-year-olds their preschool career. It sounds easy, but it’s very challenging and easily frustrating. This football player has been assigned to a kid with ADHD and several other mental problems we’re not sure of. Typically, an outsider viewing that situation would assume that it would be handled haphazardly and fall to pieces. No. Quite the opposite. Everything in that relationship is blossoming and falling into place better than you can imagine.

I used to be very judgmental. I judged everyone for what they looked like and not by whom they are. It was rude, it was shallow and it was everything you shouldn’t do. I was trying to break away from that—but then I went to camp. And I know you’re probably sick of my camp anecdotes, but I PROMISE, they’re relevant! Sometimes.

At camp we were taught a lot of things about people. How people acted in situations, how to act around people, how to be comfortable with yourself, so on and so forth. One lesson was first impressions. We had to think of our first impressions of all the campers we met from the first day, and then think if they’re still the same thing 3 days into the camp. Guess what? They weren’t. Almost 90% of the things I thought about people were all wrong. Way wrong. And guess what? Those things I thought? Yeah, negative things. Why did I make an assumption of someone that I just met? Who says that’s right? Yeah, I know, I know. “You only get one first impression.” But why not change that? The only person that is holding that back is you. Your opinion of someone is yours and yours only. Yes, you may share opinions with some, but mostly, they’re your own. I’m sick and tired of people constantly battling themselves about what they think of people because a friend of theirs thinks otherwise. It’s wrong.

Take me for perfect example. Most of you know me fairly well by now. Some more than others. Do you remember what you thought of me at first? Granted, I’ve changed tenfold since you all met me, but nonetheless the ideal still remains. If I was to step back and look at myself I’d see someone who is annoying to seek attention, loud, cocky, foolish, and incredibly impatient. That’s my honest, honest opinion of myself from an outsider’s opinion. I’m not loud and sarcastic to get attention—it’s just a way for me to be less vulnerable. I can hide everything with sarcasm. A lot of the times, even the people closest to me, don’t realize when something offends me because I warp it with sarcasm. And I am impatient. Really, really impatient. But enough about me. Focus. Okay. My point is that a lot of people just assume things about me—everyone—without knowing really anything else. I mean, really. What person in my school would ever hypothesize my “super secret second life” on the Internet? Hardly anyone.

I want to end this. I want to end assuming everything. We know nothing. Unless I tell you straight up something I am or feeling, don’t assume you do—although, most of you can already tell.

I’m asking you now. Please, stop assuming. I’m not chastising you, but just think about what you’re saying first. Majority of the time you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what find out about a person. Keep an open-mind.

Stay beautiful. <3

Nerdy guys are mega hot.

2011-10-06T22:51:00.002-04:00

Yo, kids.

I’m going to tell you right away that I have honestly nothing and I really mean nothing to discuss/ be philosophical about tonight. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I can’t bring myself to think of anything, so, you get a long, drawn out “WHAT HAPPENED IN ABBY’S LIFE TODAY” type of deal. I’m sorry. I love you.

Today was surprisingly a good day. I think I freakin’ rocked my Bio II test, which is surprising because believe it or not, the difference between chromosome and chromatin are pretty low on my radar of caring. Then I was called down to the Communications room to write an article that will be in the magazine that gets sent to every resident in my town and the town next to me. So, that’s cool, I guess, eh? Also, I helped Kelsey edit our school newspaper because she was almost exploding from how stupid our classmates are.

Then I had Euro and if you start talking about my teacher’s kids, you can literally sidestep the entire lesson.

Example:

“The Bubonic Plague was rapidly spreading all across Europe and parents and children alike—“

“Speaking of kids,” I interceded, “How are Ty and Finn?”

My teacher’s eyes lit up with joy that finally, a student has remembered her little cherubs’ names.

“Oh! They’re great! I just bought Ty a little sofa for him to sleep on in the playroom. Finn is on the move, and she’s been crawling all over the house. Keeping me on my toes!”

Kelsey and I shot each other glances, knowing that we must save the world, er, class from ever having to discuss the droll subject such as the Bubonic Plague (though, in retrospect, is kind of cool, but just as equally disgusting.)

“So, what did they end up doing with the dead bodies?” continued my teacher.

“They left them outside of their house. Hey, Mrs. O’Shea,” started Kelsey, “You never showed us the picture of Ty on his Hotwheels.

Smack.

My teacher playfully smacked herself on the forehead.

“Duh! I’ve been meaning to show you guys that for a few days! Here, let me get my phone.” She turned around and walked back to her desk, reaching for her dark abyss of a purse, grasping for her phone. Smugly, Kelsey and I shut our notebooks in sheer joy that our manipulative powers are able to shutdown an entire day’s worth of note taking.

Or just the fact that my teacher is obsessed with kids. Meh, I prefer the former—it makes me sound badass.

SCENE.

But, yeah. That’s typically what happens in that class. But after that class I went to study hall in the library with two other friends and Kelsey. My football player friend read Seventeen and gave a very comedic commentary on Taylor Lautner’s section.

“Ooo yeah, look at that smoldering smile. Mm, yeah, you can imprint on me, baby.”

That happened.

AND THEN. And then, my lovelies, I had English, and, as you all know, my English class is literally the BEST period of the day.

However, it is also a period of pure MIND-RAPE. I can’t even begin to explain how my brain is twisted in ways it shouldn’t be twisted in that class.

Today we talked about Zeno. In the easiest way let me explain this to you.

Zeno believed that there is always middle to something. So take a piece of cake. You split that down the middle. Now split that down the middle. Now that down the middle. And so on and so forth until you get to that point where it’s between another middle and actually comes to being nothing. So if everything has a middle (right? That makes sense) then what are we? Are we existing? Who knows. We’re fading in and out of existence.

Or, look at this way, too. You base your logic on reasonable circumstances, right? What about god? God is irrational but yet, for most, they base their rational on an irrational because without an irrational you can’t have a rational.

YEAH. Literally that is stuff we talk about in my class. It hurts my head but yet, I am so in love with that class, you don’t understand. Kelsey and I sit and give each other owl-eyed expressions from confusion and grasp at our hair—but yet, we love it.

And then I had lunch. I go from “WHAT IS GOING ON” to “mmmm, food.” It’s a nice transition. Kelsey and I walk so slowly, it’s unfathomable, so we’re always very late to lunch, and the last ones in the hallway. But that’s okay, because we’re really loud and need time to figure out what just happened in English.

And then I had Communications again and I finished my article and helped Kelsey, and then I went to Spanish and we talked about senior superlatives the whole period (best smile, best hair yada yada cosmetic fallacies.)

And then cross country and I timed my team because they sprinted and I can’t sprint because of my hip.

Aaaaaaaaand then I went home and my laptop charger literally STOPPED WORKING. So, I drive out to HH Gregg and they were all, “No, I’m sorry, you have to order this online on the official Dell website.”

So, my dad turned to me and went, “Best Buy?”

And I nodded in agreement with a steadfast, “Best Buy.”

Off to Best Buy where Franky, the super hot in the nerdy type of way manager, helped me find a charger and was all cute. I love nerdy tech guys. Like, I have no clue why. They’re just so…GAH. I don’t know. But after a few cute giggles and me batting my eyelashes, he stopped helping the other guy to assist dear Abby, and boom. I now have a new laptop charger...but it’s still broken (my laptop that is.)

AND THAT WAS MY DAY.

I’m sorry this is so poorly written, but I’m currently talking to my neighbor who is a sophomore in college, and I miss playing video games with him, so we’re catching up, and I’m short on time.

Tomorrow: Field trip with Kelsey to a park (I forced Kelsey to join every club this year with me so we can go on every field trip possible. We’re awesome.)

Until next time (where I will make more sense and not write like I am in the 7^th grade,)

Stay beautiful. <3

Bob the Builder and Improving.

2011-09-29T22:24:00.003-04:00

HEY.
So, hello all. I’m sorry I didn’t BETH last week and I know you were all absolutely DEVESTATED that you weren’t able to sweep your eyes across my teenage rambling. Ah, but all is well. I am back and here to coddle you.

So, before I jump into topic of choice tonight, I feel like I should update everyone (SHOCKING, I know.)

UPDATE #1. Tomorrow is Stick Day. For those of you who do not know what that glorious thing is, it is breadsticks and cheese sticks for lunch. I never buy school lunch. Except on Stick Day. It is seriously the best thing on this earth. Kelsey wrote it in her agenda to remind me the night before, ‘cause it’s that important. Balls and Stick Day is the contender for my love—breadsticks and meatballs, of course.

UPDATE #2. I have a homecoming date! Woop, huzzah, woohoo! Okay. I’m going to do something I shouldn’t do here. You guys can keep secrets, right? I’m going to show you a picture of him! SHH. Don’t tell. I’ll look creepy. Even more than I already do.

Oh my gosh, he is so adorable and from Belgium. Today, I had a nice conversation with him on the bleachers…that lasted roughly 5 minutes. Hey, it’s the most we’ve said to each other since I interviewed him for the school newspaper! But, no. Sadly, he is not single. He has a girlfriend back home. But, I really don’t want to date him, contrary to popular believe. At all actually. I don’t want to date in high school. NO THANKS.

UPDATE #3. I am nearly done with my college applications. I THOUGHT I was done, but little did I know, there was an entire section I missed. So, I have to finish those up, hopefully by this weekend. Maybe. I hope.

(Update #4: Al Frioni is a wonderful, wonderful person.)

Okay, so updates are done, let’s talk Bob the Builder.

So, you know Bob, right? Boooob the Builder, can he fix it? YES HE CAN. It might seem silly, but you can actually learn a lot from that show.

Oh, no, Abby is going to go crazy and philosophical and insane again. STAY WITH ME, PEOPLE.

If you think about it, you really can learn from it. Bob, our main character, had a big burden on his shoulders. He had to fix nearly everything in the town because things seemed to always break. Either the town was populated by a plethora of Abby’s or they just had faulty structures. Not only did Bob have to fix everything in the town, he also had to deal with his crew—that always seemed to fight. Dizzy was super stupid and Scoop came off as an over-powering dictator half the time.

But what did Bob do? He kept calm and collected and handled not only fixing things, but leading his crew to collectively work as a team.

Are you still with me? Good.

Writing out my college essays, I have to do a lot of self-reviewing. Am I a good candidate for my university choices? I’m not sure. I have to self-assess myself. I’m loud. Annoying. I have little patience. I freak out for no reasons at all and constantly feel like people are slipping away from me. I like to be in control of things and have an obsession with organization. I’m hot-headed and hate repeating myself. I’m way too sarcastic and get into people’s business way too often. I tend to lose focus when other people are talking to me and procrastinate way too much.

Flaws. I have lots and lots of flaws.

But everyone has flaws, right? But the greatest people, those who lead, take those flaws and warp them into strengths—they fix them. That’s what being a leader is all about right?

I’m loud—Okay, that means I can be heard in a busy room, grasping attention when needing it.

I’m annoying—Right, so if someone needs to talk, I have a slew of things to spout out at them.

Little patience—Well, this one is hard to please, but uh. I don’t know. I’ll get back to you.

Freaking out for no reasons—I can keep relationships solid.

I’m not going to go through all of these, but you get the point. For every negative thing, there is a positive outlet. We all need to improve, need to fix. We’re humans. We’re going to fail time after time and see negative things, but with the right mind frame, you can see anything in positive light.

I don’t know why everyone is so self-destructive and criticize themselves so much. Yes, I do it. I always take the blame for things, but I now realize that it’s not always my fault. I wanted to improve—I’m improving. I’m fixing myself.

It’s what everyone needs to learn—Improve. Improve, improve, improve. Fix, fix, fix. If you think you have something perfect, try to improve that. Especially yourself. I’m not telling you to not be self-confident, because as you recall from my body image blog, that is not the case. I believe there is a beautiful person in everyone—inside and out. But, also, there’s room for improvement.

Am I perfect? NO. I’m way far from perfect. Far, far, faaaaaaaaaaar from perfect. I do many things wrong on a daily basis—and hourly basis. But I’m improving that because I know I can take something negative, and somehow find a way to make it positive.

So, thank you Bob the Builder. If it wasn’t for you, I would have never seen that though everything goes wrong, you can always make up for it in the end—you can fix it.

Though the comparison may seem silly, just think about what you find wrong about you. Think about how you can take that negative thought and turn it positive. Can you fix it? Yes, you can.

Improve. Not in the self-destructive fashion, but in the way that you, the wonderful person you are, can improve even more than that.

No one is flawless, but your mold is never complete—you’re uncommonly beautiful.

Stay positive.

Stay beautiful. <3

Bullying.

2011-09-15T22:34:00.000-04:00

Hola.

So, I have an actual topic of discussion for tonight, but first, as per usual, I want to recap my life from last week. I will do so by using a list. Because lists are useful. And because I don’t feel like writing sentences just yet.

1. I dropped Calculus. I’m now in a communications and newspaper/yearbook class, both benefitting my major. The fact that I do not have a math class to attend every day, is by far the most beautiful and wonderful feeling ever.

2. 2.. I went to the doctor for my hip issue—I have physical therapy now. Gah. I know, I know “It’ll make you feel better.” I just don’t want random people touching me. Kinda weird.

3. 3. I really don’t have anything else to say. Um.

4. 4.I want this list to go to at least five. I’m sick.

5. 5. I’m going to go get some candy.

I lied. I actually got an ice cream cone. It was good. Also, last week I asked if there was anyone who read my blog that I wasn’t aware of who they were and I got an answer!

Devon! Hi! Cross country is a bitch at first, but it has its benefits. You feel stellar afterwards. Thanks for reading! <3

Okay, so what I want to talk about tonight is probably something severely hackneyed at school for you, but I want to talk about it from a teenager perspective: That topic is bullying. Now, I think media and the schooling system in general have adulterated the concrete ideal of bullying into something that is just merely kids being kids. I mean, I, in no way, shape, or form, am saying that bullying is not a nationwide issue, because I am fully aware that it is. However, I think what people are teaching what bullying is, is actually quite wrong. For example, if a student insults another student’s skirt, nowadays, that’s bullying. No. That’s one person being an asshole to another. The world is full of those. Insulting and bullying are two completely different things, at completely different ends of the spectrum.

The reason I think I find it hard to conceptualize bullying is because I have always had a thick-skinned insult system. I mean, there are some things that eat away at me, but very little things honestly bother me. So, is that lack of empathy on my part? Or have I set too high of expectations for people to deal with bullying? I’m not saying people are incapable of handling negative feedback, I just think their level of acceptance, or even their self-confidence is below par. I’m not saying I’m the most confident person on this planet, because trust me, I’m far from it—however, I have enough confidence in myself to not become bothered if people say unkind things to me. I just let it go.

So, what’s the problem and how do we deal? I know for a fact that all cases are coined as “bullying” are merely idiotic statements/actions directed towards other people from callow, insensitive ignoramuses. Those cases overshadow times when bullying is actually happening and leads to many negative things. I know being in small school, everyone talks about EVERYONE, and there’s consistently petty arguments going on. I choose to transcend over those issues, however, not many follow suit. I am thus a witness of this bullying pandemic and not sure how to handle it. Yes, I stand up for those being bullying. Yes, I’m not afraid to stand up to people. But not everyone is as secure (or annoying) as I am.

What it comes down to, is that people need to stop being assholes. Grow up, and stop hiding behind games of foul denigration and detestation.

What do you guys think? Do you see it at your school? How do you handle it, or observe it? As always, thoughts are welcome (comments are like Peach Rings—the more the merrier.)

Also, one more thing before I’m done. Kelsey wrote this parody of “Party Rock Anthem” and mainly for my entertainment, I want to share it with you. And here I present “AKA:”

AKA <3
Abby Kelsey Anthem

Abby and Kelsey are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
And we DEF gonna make you lose your mind
Everybody just have a good time

Abby and Kelsey are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
And we DEF gonna make you lose your mind
We just wanna see ya shake that *DANCE MONKIES DANCE*

In Chipotle, Mexican rock, lookin' for your burrito? It’s in my sock
Nonstop when we in the lot, Florence movin' us til we back on our own block
Where the camera? I gots to know, we taking pics, random as shit 'cause we’re rock 'n' roll
Half black, half white, NOT REALLY… but come, we burn daylight HOE!

Yo, Abby runnin' through the course like Flash
She gotta broken hip, ow, today I hurt my ass
We party rock, yeah, that's the crew that we reppin'
Cause we’re old women and back in our day there was no two- steppin’, hey

Abby and Kelsey are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
And we DEF gonna make you lose your mind
Everybody just have a good time

Abby and Kelsey are in the house tonight
Everybody just have a good time
And we DEF gonna make you lose your mind
We just wanna see ya shake that

Everyday SHE’S RUNNIN’
RU-UH-NIN’, RU-UH-NIN’

Step up fast cause we can’t move anywhere fast
We gettin' funny, don't be mad now, stop, embrace us and be glad

One more picture of us, a daslkjf
Please take us on a bus, ;lajds;flgkj;
We just wanna see lksdjf;lk/
Florence and Agnes on TV, /lskjd;lje4;aiojf

Get up, get down, cause in our day that dance wasn’t around
Get up, get down, cause in our day that dance wasn’t around
Get up, get down, cause in our day that dance wasn’t around
Put your prune juice in the air, put your prune juice in the air

Get up, get up, get up, get up
Get up, get up, get up, get up
AGNES SAID GET UP!!!!!!!!!!!!
Get up, put your prune juice in the air, in the air
Get your cane, get your cane, get your cane, get your cane

Abby and Kelsey are in the house tonight
(Put your prune juice up)
Everybody just have a good time
(Put your prune juice up)
And we DEF gonna make you lose your mind
(Put your prune juice up)
Everybody just have a good, good, good time

Now, sit down
Now, sit down
Now, sit down
Shake that, everyday she’s runnin’

Stay confident. <3

A mundane blog of useless crap

2011-09-08T22:34:00.000-04:00

Blooooooooog.

Ew, that looks like “BOOOOG.” Like. Booger, that’s gross. So are boys who pee in the middle of a public park. I totally witnessed that today. Guys are icky.

Hi!

So, it’s been quite a stark change from writing every single day, to having to only write once a week; which is nice because there comes a point when you realize that, SHOCKINGLY, people don’t care about your everyday life as much as you would assume them to! It is a DIRE newsflash, I understand. However, tonight I am going to be doing just that—telling you about my life, because rest assured, though you don’t honestly care about everything that has occurred to me from August 30^th- September 8^th, I am the sweetheart and will tell you anyways!

COME ON VAMANOS!

So, since then, I have started school, and I am a senior-- which you all know because all of you reading this are personal friends with me. And if you AREN’T a close personal friend, WHY AREN’T YOU! HI! If you are a person (i.e. not Laney, Cece, Alexa, Izzy, Gwen, Kelsey etc. etc.) say hi, please! I want to know everyone that reads this, because this blog is like my little bundle of joy. My pride and happiness. The innocent thing I take out my teenage angst and frustration on. The thing that I hated for an entire month. (No, but really, every person that reads and especially comments on it, earns a pretty place in my heart.)

I have also started my senior cross country season…and in due process, I have also ended my senior cross country season. And before we break out into hoopla of despair, allow me to intercede. I can’t honestly say ended (even though I just did) because I’m not really sure what is wrong with me at the moment. At first, it felt like the muscle in my band (slightly lower than right hip, near top of thigh on the right side) was taut and tense and every time I leaned the opposite way from it, the muscles tightened and it was painful. However, yesterday we did a sprinting workout, and I have not fully sprinted my actual speed since last April, and let’s just say—my bones are grinding together (orsoI think.) Mm, doesn’t that sound delicious? Crunching, grinding, and pulverizing bones.

But enough about that mundane topic. Let’s talk about fun things! Like…um…well…nothing fun has really happened. OH!!! So, I saw the fire drill part from The Office long ago, and found it by far one of the most entertaining pieces of sitcom comedy my young eyes have ever witnessed aaaaaaaandddd I GOT TO THAT PART LAST NIGHT. Oh my heavens. “Stanley! Stanley! Barack is president! You are black, Stanley!” I would like to take this time to thank Alexa Elizabeth Blanton for forcing me to watch that show. That’s really the only way she’s changed my life since I’ve known her—by her making me watch The Office. (Je t'aime, Alexa. S'il vous plaît ne me haïssez pas.)

But I have nothing of dire importance to tell you guys because my life is currently running on a straight line parallel to the x-axis of life. Calculus is the worst class known to mankind. But, I’ve been so MIA recently, so I apologize to all of you.

So, tell me what have you been doing? How is school? Are you adjusting to your classes?

I hate doing a “LEAVE A COMMENT ANSWERING MY QUESTIONS!!!11!” type of deal because it makes me look pretentious. I am not, or so I do not believe myself to be. But I miss you guys. Tell me what’s going on.

WHAT’S THE BUZZ, TELL ME WHAT’S-A HAPPEIN’, WHAT’S THE BUZZ, TELL ME WHAT’S-A HAPPENIN’.

(if you get that reference, I give you many virtual things of happiness.)

Well, I need to go watch more of The Office now.

Next week’s BETH (Blog Every Thursday. I’m making that a thing. Isn’t is cute?) I will have a topic and we will talk and it will pretty and stuff .

This blog totally makes me sound like an annoying girlfriend that’s like “Oh my god! Like, listen to what I’ve been doing recently!”
Eh. Whatever. I’ll take it.

Goodnight, my lovelies.

Stay Beautiful. <3

I DID IT.

2011-08-31T23:12:00.001-04:00

*epic fanfare*

*spinning Abby rolls into room*

*applause*

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, BLOG!

Oh my gosh, guys. It’s August 31, 2011. I survived BEDA. YAY! Now, now. It’s okay, don’t cry. Shh, there, there. Just because you aren’t ~~subjected~~ able to read my ramblings every day, do not fret! I will continue my “BETH”—also known as, Blog Every Thursday. So you are welcome for that.

So, thirty-one days, eh? I mean, technically my BEDA has 32 posts because of my added post early Monday morning/late Sunday night, but that most was paramount. I feel like we need to take a little trip down memory lane, no? Well, I do, so either hop on my train or GTFO.

I’m sorry, baby. That was harsh. Baby, come back. You can blame it all on me.

So, we started August 1^st, in which I seemed to have the mental capacity of a 7-year-old that has had far too much sugar injected into their blood stream. All was well, and nothing of dire circumstances occurred.

August 2^nd: I toyed around with the ideas of sexual stereotypes, sexism, and the roles of genders in society. Oh, and I also bitched about my laptop battery. I tend to bitch a lot.

August 3^rd: My first deep and reflective blog of the month. I discussed body image, and why you all should be beautiful and comfortable in your own skin. In all honesty, this is probably one of my favorite posts of mine.

August 4^th: I faced a big mountain here. A big, angsty, anxious, horrifying mountain. I was tearing myself apart for a month on whether or not to discuss true emotions to someone. Luckily, I was brave enough to speak my mind, and I think things became a lot better. The person and I are luckily on the same page again.

August 5^th: The small child again escaped me and I talked about Toys R Us, and, to many of your aghast horror, I had the layout of Toys R Us steadily locked into my brain. (I also used this blog for a VloggerQueen17 blog…shh, don’t tell.)

August 6^th: I went to a wedding, so I taught everyone how to pull up a dress. I think it was quite beneficial, no?

August 7^th: I did a blogTV show on Mike’s channel that night, and a big story of utter confusion was posted, but it was hysterical and zany in all the right ways.

August 8^th: Being one to always stereotype, I felt angsty and angry at the misogynistic males populating our earth, so I felt entitled to blog about the basic framework of a teenaged, nerdy girl. Overall, I think I hit the nail on the head.

August 9^th: I think somebody spiked something I drank that day, because…I don’t really even understand it. All I know is that I felt like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again, and I changed my Twitter name. OH. And I bought a dinosaur hat.

August 10^th: My ideas for blogging slowly began squeezing out of my brain like a nearly empty toothpaste bottle, so I did one of those frivolous Facebook surveys. Hey, I started a trend with my friends at least!

August 11^th: I drew you some pictures.

August 12^th: This post I am also rather proud of. I dissected the YouTube community, Nerdfighteria in specific, and apparently said enough sagacious things to get Hank Green to comment on my blog. That was a very good evening.

August 13^th: I went to go see Michael perform with MC Frontalot after being forced to watch a tedious baseball game. That’s about all that happened that day.

August 14^th: Alexa, unbeknownst to her, kicked off “Friends Week” on the Abbyss, by talking about her work ethic throughout the school year. Unsurprisingly, it starkly matches mine.

August 15^th: My lovely, adorable, and witty best friend, IRL Kelsey blogged for the first time ever, in which she accurately described an Abby-Kelsey day. They have yet again taken off with this current school year.

August 16^th: My darling, Izzy, made a bunch of lists, and in the process, annoyed me with the presence of Canada.

August 17^th: Amber, my amazing/beautiful/fantastic/nerdy/clone/best friend/ most amazing person ever/ Nerdfighter friend from camp, blogged about us and her and just amazingness in general. She’s a sweetheart.

August 18^th: Gwen decided to take an Abby method and take a Facebook survey, and it was hysterically cute in which she was “HUNGRY. SO HUNGRY.”

August 19^th: Cecelia, my current girlfriend (more on her later) blogged about robots, and made my night, indefinitely.

August 20^th: Deanna, my wonderful, amazing, ALMOST apartment roommate, blogged about a rebellious senior antic that nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. It also gave me many ideas to pull my senior year.

August 21^st: Overly-emotional and angsty Abby returned and felt utterly horrid and, in hindsight, was thinking too far into things than she should of. She also taught you the cotton-eyed Joe.

August 22^nd: This blog post, I am also proud of. (okay, there’s only been three so far, so stop calling me self-absorbed.) I broke down for my younger friends, the stages of high school—abridged. I explained how in due time, you will change, and it will be utterly unexpected. I think I helped people, at least, in an intrinsic form.

August 23^rd: I ate something that disagreed heavily with my stomach, and therefore, was moody Abby, yet again. I’m so sorry I’m emotional.

August 24^th: This blog was dedicated to the sweet heart, Cecelia. It was mostly intended for those just starting high school, but I’m sure that it could have aided some others as well (namely, Cece.) I don’t ever mean to be pretentious whilst giving advice, but I sometimes overstep boundaries and always want to help.

August 25^th: I was with Kelsey for this day for literally 10 hours straight, and we went to Panera. <3 However, having to work the carnival until late Thursday night, I had to rush home and edit, which left me little to no time to blog at all. Luckily, I have the greatest best friend in the world that tends to save my ass now and again.

August 26^th: My favorite person on the earth blogged for me that night: Also known as, my future husband, a Mika lover, and my best friend’s brother. Maverick Blanton is by far the most humorous and witty person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

August 27^th: I magically forgot about my blog while prattling in Mike’s blogTV chat room, so, always efficient Abby merely copy-and-pasted her first blog post. I know, I’m super clever. Praise me.

August 28^th: This night I had a mental breakdown. Literally. I had procrastinated my AP European timeline until the last minute, thus, had to work on it literally all day. However, I have wonderful, amazing, beautiful friends that helped me out along the way. Due to all of this maddening stupidity, Izzy blogged for me about how she herself was having a stressful Sunday. Also, this night, after I was supposed to be “asleep,” I unlocked the emotion reservoir and let the mild anxiety of my last “night before first day of school” spill out. It was emotional and raw, and defines me.

August 29^th: My “girlfriend,” HBIC, and all around amazing human, Cecelia, blogged for me about how we’re dating and I keep sending mixed signals when she tries to imply my mother is a llam,a and also, pulled an Abby approach and listed how to prepare yourself for picture day. She did a lovely job at it.

August 30^th: This post, is, finally, also one of my favorites. The comments I’ve received on last night’s post have caused so much happiness and pride within me, that I honestly can’t put it into words. The fact that you guys honestly sit here and read this drivel means the absolute world to me. Going into a major such as Creative Writing, you’re relying on other people to read the art you’ve created. And you guys…you guys are the best. <3

August 31, 2011: The last day of BEDA. The first day of BEDA I was not a senior, I was unsure of several of my relationships, and I was lazy. Now, the latter still remains, but the others are solid and in place. I’m moving forward with my life, I think, and I’d like to keep that mindset. High school may not be going at the speed that I wish it was going, but nevertheless, it’s moving.

So, I can happily say I completed BEDA (withalittlehelpfrommyfriends.)

So, with that, I need to go write a last-minute thesis statement for AP Euro.

See you NEXT Thursday.

Stay smart, stay classy, but most of all, stay beautiful. <3

Philosophical thoughts of an irrational teen.

2011-08-30T22:29:00.003-04:00

Hi.

Okay, I am back and it’s August 30^th. I can’t really say I failed at BEDA, because technically, every day was fulfilled with a blog; however, I wrote a lot less than I was originally anticipating, but I can accredit that to tumultuous final weeks of summer.

Well, blog. I’m a senior. I officially started my senior year of high school, and I’m starting the race to the finish line. The emotions that were spilling over after the final bell rang yesterday (my first day) were humorous in a way that I never thought I would feel that way towards school. I love learning. I love being able to be confused, and then, through a process of intellectually thinking, be pulled out of that void of darkness into a light of understanding. I however, do not favor my school. I’m not pleased with the people I’m surrounded with, the quality of the classes to which I am studying, or anything in general. The problem with going to a small school is that everyone knows everything about everyone. You can’t hide anything, and no one can hide anything from you. It obviously has its advantages and disadvantages, like any school; but the disadvantages seem to tower over the advantages so much that the advantages are heavily shadowed.

However, this evening as I was laboriously pouring over my AP European History work, I realized—I’m immature. And before you all jump the gun to try and to assuage that feeling, hear me out. Yes, I may be more mature than any other teenager tramping around my school. Yes, I will agree with you on that. But emotionally and mentally, I’m immature. I’m insecure, I don’t like to be seen at a weak spot in life, and I can’t handle stress easily. I’m not mature. And, yes, I know that every teenager deals with insecurity, emotional turmoil, yada yada. However, I know I can handle myself better than I do.

I have this strange, constant nagging in the back of my head. It’s not necessarily a narcissistic nagging, but it does fulfill many traits that could interrelate with narcissism. It’s a trait that causes me to long for attention, but not in a showy manner. As I’ve said plenty of times, I’m one who fears loss of friendships. If I do not speak with a friend for an entire day, or if I receive choppy messages lacking emotion, I feel that I have faulted somewhere along the line and upset them. Why I bring the blame back to me consistently, I am unsure. But I do. Obviously I don’t do that for a reason of gaining pleasing compliments. It’s more of an “I don’t know where I stand in life” kind of deal. I don’t know what I want out of people. When I’m upset, you will know, more than likely-- unless I’m in a relationship with you where I don’t feel comfortable enough showing you my weaker side. I have gone to the extremes as to calling people sobbing into the phone if I think something is wrong between us, or sending a 5 page email full of uncontrollable angst and anxiety. I have done it all. I can’t help it. It’s an issue I need to assist, because in life, I’m not always going to have positive reactions to those long emails and emotional phone calls.

I also need to set my focus back on school. Having online friendships and being a part of an active online community can easily cause the mind to slip from intellectually stimulating activities, to more callow, mind-numbing things such as scrolling through Tumblr’s endless abyss. Yeah, senior year is supposed to be mildly less painstaking than Junior, but for me, that’s not necessarily the case. I know what college I’m going to, I know what major—everything along that path is set. But the fact that I’m just longing for college, is going to make this year seem much longer than it should.

I need to stop worrying. I worry a lot, and the people I take it out on claim they can handle it, but sometimes, I doubt that. I need to just live each day moment by moment, and stop getting jealous, anxious, paranoid, annoyed, ungrateful. I need to just live. And obviously living is quite paramount in a person’s life, but I struggle with that, believe it or not.

So, here I am, blog.

Abby Stubenbort, 17 years old, senior in high school. I’m short, loud, and a brunette. I suffer from body image, and have relationship anxiety. I take advantage of things and think far too much. I read far less than I used to due to the Internet. I’m horrible at math, but that’s mostly because I tell myself I’m not good at it. I tend to warp people’s words around to fit how I perceive them, and my live exists around the Internet. My favorite color is blue, and I like Peach Rings. I’ve barely seen any movies that are worth discussing, and my music taste may not match yours. I obsess over Vera Bradley, and am not as fond as cross country this year, because I want to just come home to the Internet. I struggle with my relationship with my parents, as well as several close friends. I paint my nails constantly because I have stubby fingers. I have far too many emotions to be contained in my body. I need to constantly be confirmed by people I care about, that their emotions match mine, or I begin to worry.

I accept who I am. I’m Abby, and I know who I am. However, that’s going to change. I know it is, and I can’t control it. However, tomorrow, I’m waking up with a different mindset on life. I need to stop worrying about the little things, and focus on the big picture. Things will fall into place when I least expect them. And they will fall in place. Because I’ve placed enough trust in my friends, my family, and myself that my future, will be bright.

Here’s to a good year.

Stay beautiful. <3

I am the most significantest.

2011-08-29T23:56:00.001-04:00

Hi! It's Cece again! Although I was not invited to Laney's AIDS party, I was asked to blog again for sleepy Abby. I mean WHO COULD FILL IN BETTER THAN THE NEW GIRLFRIEND? That's right. We're the cutest. Lafawnduh Brown and Sue Bob are only a few amorous hugs away from engagement, I can feel it. With that said...Sims Social is kinda addictive. I have already mastered the art of guitar, eating, peeing every five seconds, and growing lettuce! Aw yeauh. Now let me tell you about dis bitch, Abby "Sue Bob". She is the queen of mixed signals. I mean, one second I'm just trying to tell a flirty joke and imply her mother is a llama, and then she's all like "Degallada!" and I'm being 'too forward'. Psh, ho.

Ok, so, tomorrow is my picture day; I guess, my last picture day, really, seeing as I'm a Junior. Weird. But, I figure making a list on How To Do Picture Day is at least an idea. It seems like an Abby kind of thing to do. Now, I'm sure most of you already know how to handle Picture Day, but I've basically always hated the way my picture turned out (with the exceptions of 7th grade, 9th grade, and last year for the most part). I usually end up looking weird and awkward and my smile is crooked and my eyebrows are messed up and because I stare at the picture longing than anyone else who could possibly ever see it, I notice EVERYTHING and it's annoying. SO, even after 11 years-ish of Picture Days, I have not yet managed how to run them as a boss would, like, say, Lizzie McGuire. So, this is pretty much to help me, but I hope it can help somebody else, too! Or something. Abby is better at this.

1. Get enough sleep! While I have just naturally had chronic baggy and dark circle-y eyes forever, I hear they're actually caused by not enough sleep. And crack addiction. Don't do drugs, kids.

2. Wear something you like! I, for example, plan on wearing my brand new Harry and the Potters Hagrid Is Fun To Hug shirt! Because it's cute, comfortable, and the adorable picture with their name should be high enough to make the picture. In 5th grade I wore a really nice and fancy shirt that I loved, and even though I looked super ridiculous: I was 11, it was adorable, and my mom loved it. So, I came to like it. DON'T STRESS ABOUT WHAT TO WEAR. I've done that and it's really not a big deal. I mean, there is always re-takes!

3. Don't stress about your skin! I have pretty bad skin the majority of the time, partially because of my diet and lack of sleep schedule, but also because baby, I was born this way. I currently have 4 massively massive volcanoes waiting to erupt all over my paler than pale face, but I don't curr anymore. There are re-touch options and having clear skin isn't a requirement to be pretty.

4. Breathe! Always a good idea. Unless you're underwater. Or around poisonous gases.

5. Don't let those photographer bitches mess with your hair/face/jewelry unless you don't mind. If you mind, tell them and don't back down. I know! They come at you with that comb and it's intimidating! Fix 'em with a withering stare and swat their hands away.

6. Smile! It's all good. It's just a picture. Smile and think of England...but keep your eyes open.

This is really long. I thought going through the steps might be fun but I just ended up rambling a lot, huh? Oh well. Hope you enjoy! Back to last-minute chem. homework.

The night before the beginning of the end

2011-08-29T00:33:00.000-04:00

Hello, blog.
So, I asked Izzy to blog for me earlier, because 1. I knew I was not going to be able to blog until long after I was to be "asleep," and 2. This was not going to get posted until far after midnight. But, I feel obliged to blog, so I'm typing this sucker on my iPod.

Well, tomorrow, I'm starting my senior year of high school. The rush of emotions that come with that sentence is a complex and frustrating mix, that I don't think I will ever understand. It seems like just yesterday, I was waking up to put on my dreaded school uniform, off to 1st grade to learn about Rainforest animals. It seems like every year of my schooling career is just warping in front of my eyes, blending into each other, but yet, all remaining as individual memories.

I'm just thoroughly confused on what to feel. It's not that I'm nervous, because there's nothing to be nervous about... I'm just... Anxious? I have this weird dropping feeling in my stomach every time I think about it, and I'm not really sure as to why that's happening (it could be accredited to my lack of duly preparing my summer assignments, but that's a different story.) I know all the teachers, I know everyone in my grade--in my school-- there's no reason to be anxious. But what I think is making me anxious is that, in 365 days, I will be a college student. 365 really isn't a lot of time. But, I want college, I want it more than anything. But I'm scared that my rushing will be regretted in the future.

But it's so hard to think about the future, because I can change so easily. I'm a completely different person now than I was at this time last year. It's comedic at how stark the differences are. So, that brings me to the question, what am I going to be like in 365 days? Or even 65 days? Or 3 days? Each new day brings forth plenty of new experiences, and new obstacles to get over. What if tomorrow, my English teacher tells me I'm a horrid writer, and to give up my dream of a YA novelist?I'll need a whole new career plan. Or, what if I break my leg while running tomorrow? That ends my cross country season, and my chance to play for the senior Powder Puff team. Surprise lurks around every corner, and I have a sinking feeling that this year will be full of them.

But, you know what? Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up with a mission.I'm going to take senior year
head-on. Though I may refuse to bow down to the archetype that society has stereotyped senior year with, I'll make the most of it, Abby style. No more hiding behind my books like early-Junior year Abby did. I'm the Abby I like, surrounded, for once, by people that I like. I'm going to rock senior year, the best way I can-- by being Abby.

I encourage you all to do the same thing. Live each moment one at a time.

Life's unexpected-- embrace it.

Stay beautiful.
<3

Stress Sunday

2011-08-28T23:35:00.000-04:00

Hi! I'm Izzy, and Abby has asked me to fill in for her again. So here we go!

Since about mid August my friends have been heading back to school. And with their new school year comes new stress. Today I helped Abby find a shit ton of google images for a history project. I was happy to help, and I learned that I'm a pretty boss image finder under time restraints.

A bit after helping Abby, our friend Laney asked my sister and I to make a video about LeakyCon for her collab channel. So that is currently uploading after Gwen quickly edited it. I also was on skype for awhile with Alexa, while she tried to figure out her algebra homework. I have start school this coming Friday, and my first period class is Trig/Algebra 2. After talking to Alexa, I'm absolutely dreading the class.

Pretty much today has been filled either with talk of Doctor Who (last night's episode wasn't spectacular for me, but I still really enjoyed it), the VMAs (no opinion), or school work. I've been feeling stressed out for my friends about school! I have terrible stress and anxiety issues, so I have no idea what's going to happen when I'm the one with a shit load of work.. Luckily I have awesome friends who will let me vent to them for way too long of a time.

I don't have much else to say. So good luck to everyone with school work, and try not to stress out too much. Sorry for the shit excuse of a blog.

Bye!
Izzy

HOW DID I FORGET TO DO THIS.

2011-08-27T23:36:00.000-04:00

Okay, well, I am stupid and forgot to blog and I had a whole slew of ideas to blog about today. CURSE YOU, AP.

Okay. So here's my first blog ever.
LAUGH AT IT CHILDREN:

"Baffling Blog Business- March 1st, 2011
So, tonight I decided to make a blog.

It is safe to say I have absolutely no idea what I am doing.

After reaching an epiphany this evening whilst editing my joke of a vlog, I realized I talk way too much to be contained to an under 5-minute, bluntly boring video on YouTube, and for under 140 characters on my Twitter.

Therefore, I finally mustered up the energy to type in blogspot.com and finally complete the challenge of making the blog I've been saying time after time I will create.

I hope I go through with this, and do not neglect it, for I need to just have my thoughts written down somewhere opposed to scrawled across mulitple networking sites where no one really tends to read into my drivel.

So, here I stand... or sit rather. On the bottom of this prodigious mountain of blog status quo, aiming straight... to the unknown?"

Ok. I'm going back to Mike's chat room blogTV stream thing. Yeah. Alright, kids. Later.

Stay Beautiful.

Maverick takes a turn

2011-08-26T23:33:00.002-04:00

GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!!

I’m sorry, that was pretentious. It’s probably evening where you are. Which probably isn’t Vietnam.

Well, regardless, as most of you can probably tell, the lovely Miss Abigail Mae Stubenbort is off fighting ninjas and helping old ladies cross streets...so, for tonight, you’re stuck with me, her best friend’s brother. How I was the first one asked, I have no idea, but whatever! This is my shot at glory, right?

At least, that’s what I was promised.

Anyways, what I’d like to talk about tonight is something that I believe is dear to everyone’s hearts, and that is this: pretty people are nice to look at.

Now, before you start going all “Thanks a lot, Corporal Obvious,”* let me just say that good-looking people have this uncanny ability to brighten our days. For example, yesterday, I took a very long test, got a 20% yield on a chemistry lab, used the wrong conjugation of “geben” in German class, and was almost bitten by a dog.** I was this close to throwing rabbits off of buildings. Then I saw a picture of Enrique Iglesias.

ALL WAS WELL.

But that left me wondering, why are hot people so pleasing? Sure, humans like beauty, but seeing breathtaking mountains isn’t going to do the same for me as, say, a group of supermodels would. (Granted, this could just mean that I’m horribly self-centered; however, that’s a rather nasty thing to say about myself, so I’ll just let everybody else think it.) If anything, seeing pretty people should make us feel worse about ourselves and about life in general. After all, aren’t we mere mortals to these gods of commercial sexiness and physical perfection? Shouldn’t pictures of Brad Pitt and Natalie Portman make us want to crawl into holes where we can rot in unattractive peace?

But no. Instead, we giggle and imagine ourselves screwing them.

And THAT led me to a very interesting thought. Pretty people have a very unique burden; they’re the figures on the pedestal we stare at in adoration. They make us happy because they represent attainable goals. “Look at us,” they seem to say. “If you can’t get as hot as we are, at least we’re shallow enough that you can sleep with us.”***

And that, my friends, is the true beauty of beauty.

(Despair not! The Lady Abigail doth returneth!)

*Or something of that ilk.

**Okay, fine, it was my dog and I deserved it. But still.

***Within reason. If you fucking look like Grendel’s mother, you’re probably not getting any from Colin Farrell anytime soon.****

****I’m sure no one here looks like Grendel’s mother.

ANOTHER great day with Abby and Kelsey

2011-08-25T23:14:00.001-04:00

Hello again everyone! It’s IRL Kelsey. I know you all missed me beyond belief, so Abby is letting me blog for her again!

Since I spent about 10 hours with Abby today, and I have no idea what to write about, what better to rant about than the awesome day that Abby and I experienced together.

Last night at our local carnival, Abby and I – being very bored while working Pick-A-Fricken-Ticket - thought that it would be a fantastic idea to drink two cans of Mt. Dew each and split a funnel cake. Low and behold, we BOTH could not fall asleep until well after 1:30AM this morning. Then, good ol’ Mother Nature decided to bring a gargantuan, strident storm at, ohh, I think it was 4:56AM when I first looked at the clock. I know Abby could not sleep as well, when I saw her this tweet : “Stupid huge ass thunderstorm waking me up and shit and I'm too hot to fall back asleep an it's loud and the backlight is blinding goodnight.”

Nevertheless, we love each other so much that we both got up at 9:30 – well I did, Abby probably got up later – to go to Panera. BEST RESTAURANT BESIDES CHIPOTLE EVER CREATED. Anyway, we met our friends Maggie and Emily there, they were our captives….

Since Abby and I are so freakin’ adorable, we got the same order: a cinnamon crunch bagel, cream cheese, and a bottle of water. Yes, you all need to know, in extreme detail exactly how our day unfolded.

Once we ate, we got into our get-away car (FLORENCE. FLORIE for short) and went to the dollar store to do get supplies for AP history of the European variety. I bought two green poster boards, and Abby bought blue. She was going to buy green, but she loves me dearly and knows green is my favorite color. She is so kind. OH! YES! And she bought sour patch kids because she has been craving them for several days now.

After that, we came to my house to “work on AP”. HA!! Yeah, Abby and Kelsey in one room together just produces massive amounts of laughter, music, and tweets – no productivity in the homework area.

We got through about 30 minutes of AP, then recorded videos and sung for about 2 hours. Oh well! If it wouldn’t have happened as such, Abby would have never been introduced to her new favorite song: S&M by Rihanna. It’s about as appropriate as swearing in church. "I might be bad..."

Regardless, we made a very entertaining video and took some quality pictures.

Then I drove Abby to cross country and she ran 7 miles. That is why she has a broken hip. “E’ery day she’s ruu-uh-in’ “ –Party Rock Anthem reference. DOWNLOAD THAT SONG.

So then I uploaded a video for the first time ever on YouTube and was very excited. Literally, about 5minutes after that, I picked Abby up in Florie, and we drove to the carnival listening to PRA <3. Oh yeah, and really, we don’t enjoy the carnival. We sit there and discuss how we cannot take another year with our comrades from good old BHS; yet, we are smart chillins and need National Honor Society hours. Thus, Abby and Kelsey work the carnival.

So, this is the best part of our day (enter sarcasm here).

We had to work a game called "Top-the-Pop". YES POP!!! P-O-P. Top-the-SODA doesn’t rhyme… Anyway, it’s exactly what it sounds like. All you have to do is throw stupid little red, yellow, green, blue, and purple rings onto any bottle of pop. If you are successful in your endeavor, alas, you win a bottle of pop. Rocket science, I know.

Now here comes the unfortunate part for Kelsey and Abby. All, let me restate that, THE THOUSANDS OF STUPID LITTLE RINGS that do not “top-the-pop” are now scattered on the ground. This is where Abby and Kelsey come into play. We are the lucky soles that get to pick up, every damn ring.

Even if this isn’t enough to keep our night full of activity, it is one of the most popular games at Brentwood’s carnival. So when I say thousands, there is no exaggeration.

I still have something to make our already demanding job of work this evening, more eventful. We worked with our friend Maggie from earlier today and another one of our friends Brian. But, we worked with another young gentleman who was the ultimate runner of “Top-the-Pop”. You DID NOT mess with him. As he bellows out to the customers “TIME OUT!” they knew to stop whipping their little plastic torture rings until they were given the signal to continue. Just another notch in our day of fun.

In spite of everything, Abby ate a donut from Kim Hummel, we took off our money belts, hobbled over to Florie, blasted S&M, and drove home to our nice comfy beds and laptops.

So, that was the glorious day in Abby/Kelsey land. Yes, it is a very scary, intimidating place to all who surround us, but honestly, it is great fun!

If you are still reading this, you, my friend are awesome!

Our beloved friend Abby made me make a twitter. Yes, I gave into peer pressure... But if you would like to tweet me, feel free!

Love you all! <3

Kelsey

Calm Down

2011-08-24T23:32:00.000-04:00

This blog is dedicated to Cecelia Ellis.

Hello.
Okay, so I am currently talking with Cece and she is expressing some minor fear about her first day of school. And since I'm obviously the most reliable person to come to when dealing with emotions (HA,) I feel like I should offer you guys some tips about how to calm down about school.

See, with me, I rarely get nervous. That could be accredited to me being on stage since the age of 5, or just because I have a "SCREW IT" attitude 24/7--which, in retrospect, is probably not a good attitude. I ain't even mad.

The thing you need to realize about the first day of school, is that it is that--new. Everything that happened last year--those bad test scores, some stupid fight you got in, a hatred for a teacher--all of that is in the past. You are starting a whole new ballgame. Every year is different. Every year you feel older and more mature. Just relax. Everyone is in the same situation you are. No one is ahead or behind at the beginning. You are all placed at the starting line, and your first period bell, is the gun to start the race. (Hahahaha, that was SUCH a terrible anaology. Hello, track runner Abby.) Also, you're teachers are not judging you...unless you had a bitch of a teacher last year that tends to over-exaggerate your attitude in class. It's a new start. It honestly is.

If you want to be someone different then you were last year, go the hell ahead. Who cares if people tell you, "Oh my god, you've changed." Well, no shit. It's called getting older. I have changed SOOOO much in 6 short months, and I don't care when people are like, "You're different." Yes. Yes I am. You should try that thing called maturing. It might help you in the long run.

Here is my list of things you should do to calm yourself down.
1. Watch this. Because it always makes me feel better.
2. Eat something super tasty, that will make you fall asleep. Don't drink caffeine though, because you'll be struggling to fall asleep even more.
3. Plan out your outfit in the morning. It saves you from morning paranoia of having "nothing" to year.
4. Get up earlier than when you do at the end of the year. Have an actual breakfast and sit down to just take deep breaths.
5. Pack everything up the night before, also, because you won't have that nagging feeling that you forgot something.
6. Make playlists. Make a playlist for before you go to bed, and for when you wake up. My current suggestions are a Mika playlist for going to sleep. Because that's what I'm listening to. A good one to fall asleep to is this. And a good one to just relax you is this. As for the morning, as much as modern music is abhorred in the nerd community, this has currently been my excited Abby jam.
7. Don't think about anything negative happening. Just think positive. Don't think about how long the year is going to be, or how much work you're going to have. Just relax. Live in the moment.
8. Wear something comfortable. If you're in clothes that are too loose, or too tight, you're going to be uncomfortable the entire day, constantly staring at the clock.
9. DON'T stare at the clock. Pay attention to everything. Observe the room. Look for new kids. Figure out your new teacher. The more you stare at clock the longer the class is going to take.
10. Relax. Just relax. Everything is going to be okay. It's just school. Everyone has to go through high school. Breathe.

I don't know if any of this is going to help you guys, but if I at least helped you in some form, I'm glad I can help.

Have a spectacular day at school, even if you've already started. Continue being super smart.

Relax, take it easy.

Stay beautiful. <3

Where I've been and stomach pains.

2011-08-23T23:43:00.001-04:00

Hallo.
I feel like I need to recap my life because I've been MIA, and because you all care so much. And also because I'm just too tired and sore to do anything else.

Cross country started last Monday, and sometime in late June I pulled a hip muscle, and continued running on it, therefore my hip is dysfunctional. Today I had a scrimmage (which, in non-athlete talk, is a glorified practice) and I did horrendous. I don't want to talk about it long, because that's how pitiful I did. So, now I'm faced with the issue at hand--which is my jacked up hip. And it is oh-so painful.

Also, school is starting on Monday the 29th, and I'm rushing around trying to get summer assignments done, and things are not going according to plan. I regret having Senioritis so early. It's disgusting. I have a plethora of English assignments to get done, that probably are not going to be at AP standards, but again. Senioritis.

Today I worked a carnival. I am sore. I also got Chitpotle. I do not feel good.

I am so sorry this blog lacks quality, but I just do not feel good. My stomach is making noises it shouldn't be making.

Also, Jocie says hello.
And I love Ali McGinnis.

That is all.

Stay beautiful.<3

High School.

2011-08-22T23:44:00.003-04:00

Hi, guys.
I'm back to normal. Sorry. I just have been having a weird slew of emotions lately, and I think that's because I'm under a lot of stress. But, I am back, and things are going swimmingly. Well, today at least.

What I want to talk to you guys about, is high school. Now, most of you are younger than me, and I've had to turn into "mother goose" on several occasions, but I want to do this properly.

Some of you are just starting your high school career.
Some of you are reaching midway of your high school career.
I am at the beginning of the end of mine, and I want to share some advice to you guys. Now, I'm not able to duly prepare you because, 1. You're all different individulas with a different high school experience to match, and 2. I'm not done with high school yet. I still have another year full of highs and lows to go through.

However, I just want to give you guys few pieces of advice that I wish someone was there to give me when I was at your age.

This first thing you need to know right this very instant, is that you're going to change. You are going to change so much, you're not even able to foresee it. It's just going to happen. Let me show you.

This, was Freshman year Abby:

Yes, mirror pictures.

This, was sophomore year Abby:

Horribly edited webcam pictures, Jonas Brothers posters blazoned my walls.

This was the start of Junior year Abby:

The Jonas Brothers consumed my life. I was insecure and latched to something immature to stifle that.

This is Abby, mid-Junior year, post-Nerdfigheria awakening, about a week into the community:

And this is Abby today (literally), 17-years-old, college picked out, on the brink of adulthood.

In 3 short years, I have changed so, so, so much. I have done things, 14-year-old Abby swore she would never do. I have lied to the people I am closest with. I have cheated my way through things. I have tried too hard to get things I wanted. But, guess what? I learned from those mistakes and poor choices.

You are not going to be the same person at the end of your high school career, let alone tomorrow. You can love yourself all you want, but I promise you, you are going to change. You can't control it. I can't control it. Your parents can't control it. It's called getting older. It's terrifying, yes, to think about change. No one knows what it is honestly going to bring. But, you need to live in the moment. If you plan things out, you're going to spiral out of control when things don't go the way you want them to. Trust me. I've done it, I still do it. Don't fall into the trap like I did.

Also, be organized. The Internet is going to lure you with Tumblr's beautiful endless scrolling, and the Twitter feed lusting for you to come read it, but you need to fight it. I struggled at the end of my Junior year to deal with getting off of the computer, because I had just recently stretched my Internet legs, and actually had people to talk to. And now look at me. The people reading this blog, are you guys--the ones I found in that period. It's okay, to be on the Internet, but what I took back from camp, by far the most life-changing experience I've had to date, was that I need to let go of the Internet now and again. Yes, I love you guys, and yes, I adore Twitter. But, I'm going to have a long, stressful year of high school if I don't take a break. School is the most important thing you do right now. Don't lose sight of the dream.

Also, friends. Laney was expressing a slight fear the other day, because she's afraid of her friendships. I have few friends IRL that are honestly valuable. Kelsey Mahoney is by far the nicest, most genuine friend I have ever had. She is always there for me, and honestly cares about everything. She watches my videos, she reads my blogs, she listens to me vent and moan over things she cannot help me with. And I appreciate her more than anything. If you find that one friend that is there for you through thick and thin, that's all you need. If you find multiple friends like that, that is awesome. Value them. But I'm going to be blunt (as per usual)--high school is a waste. Adults will tell you it's the best time of your life: They're lying to you to make you enjoy it. You're going to get into fights with friends. You're going to see friendships fall through. You're going to see peers do things you would have never expected them to do. High school changes people. It can't be stopped. But you need to worry about you. If you form a solid friendship, I guarantee it will carry outside of high school. I know for a fact Kelsey and I are going to be friends for a very long time. You don't need a bunch of friends to be cool. Media lies to you. High school isn't what it's cracked up to be. Even if you don't find that one friend that is a rock for you, that still doesn't mean you can't have a successful high school career.

Don't worry about what everyone else is doing. Wear what you want, say what you want, feel what you want. Don't worry about anyone else. I was so insecure about myself until earlier this year. I constantly wanted to know what people thought about me. I was terrified of being unaccepted. And then I realized, why should I try to impress other people. They're not trying to impress me. It's dumb and a waste of your time. The sooner you realize you're much beautiful as yourself, the better. I know it's hard to just be yourself, but you can do it. I know you can.

You're going to angst. You're going to over-analyze everything, feel emotions you never felt, feel things for people that are new and have never experienced before. You're going to be hurt at things you didn't think would hurt you. You are emotional right now. Your hormones are just pooling around, latching to every single one of your experiences, waiting to pull you under. You have all seen me on tirades, in hysterics, angsty and over-emotional, but I powered through it. It's hard. It's stressful, but that's what a teenager does. You don't have control over your emotions and a very smart girl once told me, "Emotions suck. You can't control them. But you need to listen to them." If something feels off to you, it probably is. Don't put yourself in situations you don't want to be. It's okay to be angsty. It's okay to not understand why you're upset. You're not screwed up. You're a high schooler.

High school is scary, I know. Going into a new year, not knowing what to expect at all could shake someone to the core. But know that even if your IRL world isn't as successful, you have a URL world to back you up. This may contradict what I said earlier about being off the computer, but if you honestly ever need anything at all, feel free to come to me. Any of you. Whomever is reading this. At all. I will listen to whatever you throw at me, and try my best to help you through it. I don't always give the best advice, but I what I fear most, is seeing you guys upset. I am here for you. Always.

So, start this school year off with a bang. Wear a cute outfit the first day, put on your best game-face, and make the most of it. You're only young once,

Grasp it by the horns.

This probably didn't help anyone, but if you need more concrete and specific advice, you guys know where to find me.

Stay beautiful. <3

meh.

2011-08-21T23:06:00.001-04:00

Hello, blogsphere.
It's Abby. Remember me? I kind of own you, but my lazy side overshadowed everything else in me, so I made my friends blog for me for an entire week. I'm a fantastic writer, let me tell you.

Well. I'm in a very strange teenager mood, and can't seem to get the words out right at all.

So, here's a video of me teaching you how to Cotton-Eyed Joe.

Sorry. Hopefully I'll be back to normal tomorrow.

Also, Kelsey Rhea Mahoney is the most beautiful person in the world, and if you don't know her, you should. She's the best friend a girl can ask for.

THE BEST FOR LAST

2011-08-20T15:33:00.000-04:00

Good afternoon...you! This is weird, writing for someone else. But here we go! My name is Deanna and if you don't know me, you're about to hear a lovely story* from the pages of my life. Abby suggested that I write about how we became friends, but that story is full of self-indulgent phrases and makes Abby look like a crazy stalker. But I'm just saying, there MUST be a reason why Abby saved me for last in Friends Week on her blog...

So let's go back to my senior year of high school. Oh the memories. Probably like most of you, I was a good student with a spotless record. But that doesn't mean I wasn't itching for some rebellion. I often found myself wishing I could muster the courage to skip class or something. At the end of the school year, the gym teachers were acting extra oblivious and I blame the weather: the sun was shining; a breeze was blowing across the bright blue sky. This also made Sam and I start formulating a very dangerous plan. After the teachers took attendance, Sam and I dashed to her car in the school parking lot. Our hearts were racing as we sat in her car, contemplating what to do next. We really hadn't thought that far ahead. It was near lunchtime, so we thought about going to Burger King. First of all, eh that's kind of gross, and second, we'd heard that cops stake that place out looking for cutters because it's so close to our school. We only had about forty minutes to pull this off, so we decided to go to the local ice cream place for some milkshakes. It seemed like a safe bet so we fastened our seat belts and Sam turned the key in the ignition. The car started with a loud rumble that we were sure had just alerted the entire school that there were felons leaving the grounds. We drove out the back entrance of our school and waited to merge into traffic. I swear a funeral procession was going by at that moment because it took us an eternity to get going. Meanwhile, every passerby could see two teenagers suspiciously leaving a school during the middle of the day. Someone we know could be driving behind us, recognize Sam's bright white SUV, and report us to the cops. Every traffic light we encountered seemed to taunt us and impede us from reaching our destination.
We finally got there and tried to walk into the restaurant as nonchalantly as possible. We started talking to each other to ease our nerves and fabricated stories about how we were home from college, hoping we could convince the employees that we were definitely NOT in high school. We casually walked up to the counter to order our milkshakes. There was no way we were sticking around--these milkshakes were to go, baby. The waitress took our order, eyeing us carefully. I felt that she knew our secret and the end of our short lives was approaching quickly. We were kind of on a tight schedule, but this lady decided to take her sweet time. It was like she was trying to keep us there so the police had time to show up and arrest us for ditching class. Sam and I kept talking because we were so nervous and we ended up creating fake names for ourselves in case someone tried to report us later. Getting caught for skipping school was something we feared more than death--I mean, our parents would have killed us anyway.
Finally, our drinks were done; we paid, thanked the waitress, and made a beeline for the exit. We took a sip of our milkshakes and they tasted strongly of rebellion. We pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to school. Earlier in the day while we were planning our excursion, Sam was worried because both of her parents had the day off from work but we decided this was our one shot to do something crazy so we went for it. As we waited at a red light, the opposing line of traffic passed us and Sam turned ghostly pale. A silver car passed in front of us and she said in a quiet but serious voice, "That's my Dad."
My heart stopped and I'm pretty sure hers had trouble restarting. We were dead. There was no way her dad didn't see us. I was trying to think of ways to resolve this hopeless situation, and suddenly, Sam's cell phone rang. Our hearts jumped again and we looked at the caller ID and it read, "DAD.”
The light had turned green and cars were honking behind us with impatience but Sam couldn't seem to remember how to drive a car anymore. We let the phone keep ringing and Sam slammed on the gas to make a sharp left turn. The car picked up speed as we approached the next red light and I had to scream at Sam to stop. The brakes squealed as she slid through the intersection and we became sitting ducks as cars started coming at us from the opposite direction. She had no choice but the go through the red light and escape onto the exit ramp that took us back to school. Now we were wanted by the law on two accounts: skipping school and running a red light. So much for that perfect record.
When we got back to school, we checked her phone and saw that her Dad had left a voice mail. Fuck. We're done for. Shit. What the fuck were we thinking? We both took a deep breath-- awaiting our death sentence-- and Sam played the message: "Hey Sam. It's Dad. I dropped off your calculator at school. Good luck on your math test today. Love you." I couldn't believe my ears. We had actually succeeded in skipping class? Are you kidding me? However, the trauma we had just been through was enough to make us never want to try that again. Lunch had already started so we joined our friends in the cafeteria and drank our victory milkshakes. But after lunch ended, we crammed back into the hallways, realizing that hundreds of these students had probably skipped class a dozen times and never had panic attacks like we did. We just wanted to live a little that day, but I’m pretty sure the anxiety it caused took years off our lives. The daily grind of eight hours of school seemed perfectly content with us from that moment on.

Thank you for your attention and I hope I entertained you at least a little bit. Sorry I took advantage of jacking your blog by writing a novel but that's what you get when you let your heart win.
Your regularly-scheduled Abby will return tomorrow.

*This is more like the only story from my life that I think is blog-worthy (Hence why I don't have a blog). And it's all for you now!

BEDA Day 19: I closed out of Tumblr for this.

2011-08-19T23:57:00.000-04:00

Hi! I'm Abby's friend, Cece, and I was mid-pizza slice at someone else's house when she texted me about doing this. And yet, here I am. Is it possible that Abby ran out of friends and had to resort to asking me?...No, Abby has a billion friends, this is truly an honour. But she had to go and point out the fact that I only had two hours! The pressure! What do I say!? Now it's 11:30! Sweet Jesus!

Well...let's start with how I met Abby. A few months, sometime in the spring, I went to a Mike Lombardo BlogTV show and ended up following everyone in the chat to an Abby/Alexa show. I ended up creeping there for like, three hours or something and it was fun and eventually we all became friends and talked and met at the beginning of July. Woo!

So, while staring at the pop can canyon wall that i've built in front of me in the past 6 minutes and listening to Tyler Oakley's BlogTV show, I will now talk about robots.

I once heard someone say, "If a robot says they'll love you until they die, that's super awesome because robots don't die" or something like that. But that statement is absurd. Robot's are incapable of feeling love! If they say they love you, don't believe them. Unless they're in an All Caps song...that's a different kind of robot. Although the male robot does lose that ability eventually! It's a cautionary tale, this one.

I personally know a robot...We met five years ago and things were great at first. Fantastic! But then they slowly went downhill...I began calling this robot my best friend! But she wasn't. She told me that i'm not her best friend, she doesn't have one. Robot's are incapable of feeling. I just have to deal...then family troubles strike! Nothing serious, just frightening. But does this robot care about these problems with her more human family? She doesn't say a word. Robotic-ness is serious business, guys. They're made of metal and like to sleep and watch too much reality TV.

Robots can dance, though, even if they only have two dances: The robot and the robobogie. I believe they'll be more prevelent in the distant future, the year 2000, but for now WATCH OUT.

I hope no one hates this! Blogging for some one else is a lot more difficult than blogging for myself.
Abby is skyping me with a countdown now...Maybe i'll wait to post this until 11:59.

Find me, if you care :)
My twitter

Gwen has arrived!

2011-08-18T20:21:00.000-04:00

Hello and welcome to what is sure to become one the most boring posts to ever grace Abby's blog.

First off,I am Gwen. Since you all probably know that this week is "Friends Week" over here on The Abbyss, then you can rightly assume that I am one of Abby's wonderful friends. You may also know me as Izzy's(the bitch that blogged yesterday) twin sister. I met Abby through this great thing called the internet(a few of you might have heard of it). She is lovely,funny,caring person and cannot be captured within this sentence,so just go talk to her instead and you'll find out that I'm correct. Now,I am by no means a blogger. I dread the days when my English assign creative writing pieces.Abby,on the other hand,is one of the best writers I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Just reading her blogs makes me feel smarter. Since I am uncreative (with a dash of lazy thrown in) I shall bring back to life one of Abby's old ideas and take one of those facebook survey thingys. Let's go!

1. First thing you wash in the shower?
Hair.

2. What color is your favorite jacket?
Black and yellow.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
You make it sound like I've kissed someone. Stop assuming.

4.Do you plan outfits?
Rarely. Usually 5 minutes before I throw it on.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?
HUNGRY. SO HUNGRY.

6. Whats the closest thing to you thats red?
A poster on my wall.

7. Do you say aim or a-i-m?
I say aim. But really,who actually still uses it?

8. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
I believe it had something to do with a couple friends and I in a zoo. It's all very blurry to me.

9. Did you meet anybody new today?
I was introduced to a new student on Dance Moms! Does that count?

10. What are you craving right now?
Purple grapes and crackers. Or chicken nuggets. ( Don't judge)

11. Do you floss?
When I remember or when I go to bed before 3 am.
12. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Cabbage.

13. When was the last time you talked on aim?
NEVER.

14. Are you emotional?
I have emotions.

15. Would you dance to the taco song?
I'M AT THE PIZZA HUT WHAT I'M AT THE TACO BELL WHAT I'M AT THE COMBINATION PIZZA HUT AND TACO BELL
That's a yes.

There are about 30 more of these questions but,again, I am WAY too lazy to answer more. On that note,I shall hand this blog over to Abby or whichever of her other friends is blogging tomorrow.
http://twitter.com/#!/nerdygwen
If you're interested,you may stalk me here ^
-Gwen

Florence Attempts to Buh-Log

2011-08-17T19:04:00.003-04:00

HALLO.
As you can probably guess by the title, Abby will not be blogging tonight.
But do not fret! Amber is here.
You may know me as Amber the camp friend/nerdfighter friend/IRL friend/Florence/Abby's twin/ridiculously attractive, etc.
If none of these sound familiar, hi! I'm Amber, and I am the 5'2", bushy-haired version of Abby! I am a Starkid, Nerdfighter, Harry Potthead, Gleek, and Disney enthusiast.

I'm not entirely sure what I should talk about right now, but perhaps a plethora of photographs will make up for the terrible writing about to ensue? I think so.

^No explanation needed. Fun fact: I have a WMHS shirt. It's pretty sweet.

^Darren Criss on a lucky banana. Fun fact: I AM HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH HIM.

^Abby and I reading romance novels aloud in Barnes and Noble. Fun fact: I am very bad at it.

^Florence and Agnes met a pro football player. Fun fact: I am a huge football fan, though I am the least athletic person known to man. I was on my high school's softball team for 2 hours.

^Last but certainly NOT LEAST, Mike Lombardo. DERP. Fun fact: His existence began our friendship.

Ok, now that I got your attention, I just have a few things to say:
1. Abby is my favorite person. I love her. We are the SAME PERSON. We knew each other for 3 days and only missed 2 questions while playing The Newlywed Game. I have only known her for a little over a month, but it feels like forever. In a good way. Out of all of the other people I met at camp, as much as I love all of them, Abby is by far the person I want to stay most in touch with. Because, as you all know, she is amazing.
2. Hopefully, I will finally see her again on FRIDAY. <3

So, that's it, kiddos.
If you enjoyed this post, feel free to tweet me.

Lots of love,
Amber

P.S. AGNES, I MISS YOU. I WISH WE COULD RETURN TO LA ROACHY COLLAGE AND CONTINUE OUR TRIP ACROSS AMERICA. BACK IN MY DAY, THEY HAD NO BLOGS!

List Time with Izzy!

2011-08-16T21:58:00.000-04:00

Since I have this opportunity to write Abby's blog, I'm going to take advantage of the moment. Here. Enjoy this everyone. Take it in and feel the pride.

Moving on! Hi, I'm Izzy. I have been friends with Abby since the end of March, and my life has become much more interesting since meeting her. Or at least a bit weirder. As Alexa said the other night, I am not a blogger. I tried my hand at BEDA this past April and it was a train wreck. I admire anyone who takes on the challenge of writing everyday for a month without making people cry from boredom. Abby certainly entertains me with her blogging, but that might be because I am also entertained by zippers.

Abby has told me that I can blog about whatever I want, so I'm going to channel my lazy side and list some stuff instead of writing an actual blog post with thoughts and eloquent shit.

Stuff I Ate Today
- chicken nuggets
- a banana
-left over chinese food
And that's all I can remember. Wow, I need to eat better.

CDs You Should Listen To
- Weathervanes by Freelance Whales
- Confidence Tricks by Eddplant
- Love and Struggle by Christian Caldeira
- Parrot Stories by Alex Day

TV Shows You Should Watch
-Lost
-How I Met Your Mother
-The Office
-Doctor Who

Places You Should Visit
-CANADA

And that's been an exciting time with me, Izzy Brown. If you would like to cyber-bully me because of this horrible post, you can do that here.
-Izzy

Abby, thanks for asking me to blog for you, sorry for the shit that I produced.

Abby has a sister??

2011-08-15T23:35:00.001-04:00

After a long day of scrumptious ice cream, uncanny accents, and intimidating beavers, you become quite exhausted. However, when you get a message of the text variety at 9:48 PM from your best friend ever, you quickly roll over on the couch, momentarily stop watching the re-run of “Friends”, and reply to the message.

This evening, I found myself in this same exact situation. My dearest friend Abigail Mae Snever Stubenbort (you might know who she is…) asked if I would delight all of you and write her fantastic blog this evening. Initially, I was hesitant since she is THE BEST WRITER I KNOW, and I got notin on her, n’at. Regardless, I am honored to write for such an amazing person, that I can sincerely name as my best friend! Okay so moving on from the gushy, sensitive crap, hello everyone! I am Kelsey Rhea Mahoney: the IRL friend! I think that’s the name for Inexperinced giRl onLine? Right? I don’t tweet, tumble, twit, twap, or any of that; however, Abby and I are exactly the same person in every other aspect of our absolutely ridiculous, abnormal lives. I am Abby’s clone. We talk the same, walk the same, simply, are the same person! To illustrate this to all of you, I will walk you through the normal – if you can call us normal – day of high school with Abby and Kelsey!

This just isn't normal...

Oh yeah, and PS, Abby and I have known each other since 7^th grade health class. Just a little fun fact. Anyways, let’s begin!

During the school year, even though I could spit, literally, on Abby’s house from my deck, we usually do not see each other until the first period bell rings. Abby and I would nonchalantly walk down the hallway - without seeing each other - into Mrs. Plewa’s first period class, sit in our assigned seats, and still not notice that we have the same hair style, same shoes on, maybe even the same outfit. But unbeknownst to all of our classmates, it is simply a coincidence. We just laugh, Abby does a hair flip, I might cry a little from laughing, and we carry on with our day.

Now, this is very important. Abby+Kelsey=FUN. Physics ≠FUN. Trigonometry ≠ FUN. Therefore, Abby+Kelsey ≠Physics and Abby+Kelsey ≠Trigonometry. Got it?

We would literally stand up in Physics class, casually leave the room (99.9% of the time with a camera in hand) and head to the bathroom! Mirror pictures were started because of us. Enough said… The other .1% of the time we would actually sit in the classroom and draw pictures in our notes. Some, around the holidays, consisted of festive pumpkins, goblins, Christmas trees, or Easter eggs; other times, we would doodle and jot down the latest song lyrics that happened to be stuck in our head at the time. Surprisingly, we both still passed that class!

In trig, Abby would talk to me about the latest world news, Sacajawea, Dave Wang , pigs, cereal, music, Pittsburgh Penguins, screwdrivers, the piece of pencil shaving on her desk: pretty much anything except math. We even went to the extremes and played solitaire and hang man in our notes. One day, I even videotaped class. It’s that bad…

During the 4 minutes we get in between classes, Abby and I still make school entertaining. We would eat cookie cake in the hallways, play games at the water fountain, sing “Take Me or Leave Me” at the top of our lungs, attempt to post posters on the clocks by taking running leaps down the hallway, or Irish step dance to our next class room. Bottom line is we are pretty damn awesome when it comes to the kids in High School. Even cooler than Daviggle.

So, if you didn’t get the point, Abby and Kelsey rule the school. After school too! We waddle on home like penguins at the speed of a 97 year old turtle. And sometimes that is even too fast. Then, we take more pictures, actually I do because Ab takes pictures of leaves, sinks, and carpet the majority of the time she has the camera. I know you are all so jealous of our amazing days at school, it’s okay. Any day with Kelsey and Abby is a day to remember, I am sure of that. You probably already kind of know who I am since Abby has about trillion and 76 thousand pictures and tweets of me all over the Internet. But I am honored to be featured in every single one!

Well I hope you enjoyed meeting Abby’s clone and best friend from Pittsburgh (yes I do say pop…) and I hope you read Abby’s blog all the time because I love her and she seriously is the most talented writer I know! And she has a pretty rad best friend!

If something is messed up on this I was pressed for time and am dearly sorry.

I am proud to say she is my best friend!!

See ya soon!

Guess Who's Back? (No need for the dirty looks. Jeez)

2011-08-15T00:00:00.004-04:00

Hey y'all. It's Alexa again. In case you don't know me, I am Abby's best friend from Indiana. Yeah, that's right. There are actually people in Indiana. Who woulda thunk. Being a Hoosier, my life is normally very uneventful, but last night I went to the Sara Bareilles/Sugarland concert at the State Fair and the stage collapsed. It was exciting in all the wrong ways. I much prefer my mundane corn-filled existence.

First and foremost, I am no blogger. Blogging is extremely difficult for me, even though English is one of my best subjects in school and I love to write. I think this is because there aren't any guidelines to blogging. When writing papers for school, there is a syllabus that highlights what needs to be in the paper. I like that structure. Without it, I ramble and go on a million pointless tangents. I like knowing that someone I respect will eventually read my paper, and I love the challenge I set upon myself of trying to impress them. Having my teachers' approval is very important to me. Call me a nerd, but it's true.

At the beginning of the school year, I'm as hard core as Bruce Willis, but as the year goes on, I start slacking off more and more. I end up hating everything about school after a while. Here are my feelings about school based on the month-

August: "Learning is awesome. I've missed actually doing things and applying myself. Why did I spend so much time on Tumblr this summer-- I could've used that time to get ahead in French and Algebra!"

September: "I'm so glad my handwriting is getting back to normal. It makes typing up my notes so much easier."

October: "HOMECOMING! School is so awesome, and I have so much spirit!"

November: "Finals?! I NEED TO STUDY. Thanksgiving?! I NEED MORE THAN 4 DAYS OFF!"

December: "I'll do whatever--just let me go on Christmas break already!"

January: "I said I wanted snow days, not a chemistry test!"

February: "I know it's Valentine's Day and all, and don't get me wrong-- I think it's great that you have a boyfriend. Really. I'm SOOOO happy for you, but do you really need to grope each other on my locker?"

March: "You really expect me to take midterms right now? Really?" or "Bitch. Back off. I'm wearing green. Are you color blind? Stop pinching me. You aren't even Irish!"

April: "No, I'm not going to Florida for spring break. No, I don't want to do an English project on vacation.

May: "LAST MONTH OF SCHOOL, BITCHES. I'm not studying for ANY tests." or "I can't wait to spend two months avoiding you-- I mean 'Have a great summer!'"

I have to reenter the horrible world of school again on Wednesday. I'm excited and nervous and just have a huge ball of emotion inside me.

I have to go now because Abby's on my ass about finishing on time. It's not my fault she's an hour ahead of me and asked me to do this at the last minute. I think she's forgetting that I'm doing her a huge favor. *passive agressive stare*

This was fun, my loves.

You can find me on YouTube and on Twitter.

This stuff down here is always too small for me to read. I wonder if anyone else has the sane troubles.
SOTD: Hey There Delilah. Don't hate. You know you know every word.
VOTD: your mom's sex tape
QOTD: "Hey Alexa, you're awesome." - Nobody
WIAW: Uh, researching my future biography papers

STUFF.

2011-08-13T23:56:00.001-04:00

Hi, it's 11:52 and I need to concoct a blog at RAPID FIRE SPEED.

SO, today, I slept. Like, legitmately, that's all I did. I just laid across my bed and SLEPT.
Then I went to a baseball game with my best friend Kelsey, and it was boring, and luckily I got out of it to go see Mike play with MC Frontalot. And he danced. And I died.

So, yeah, that was my day. This is so boring.

OH, thank you all for your lovely comments. They were splendid and amazing, and I appreciate all of you so much.

So, until next time, I love you!
<3

Nerdfighteria

2011-08-12T23:50:00.005-04:00

Hello, blog.

First off, allow me to apologize for my lack of an actual material blog for the past several nights: I’ve been struggling with the task to, you know, like, type words. However, what I want to blog about today is becoming severely jaded in the Nerdfighter community; but also, very detrimental on how we are growing. As always, I need to put in my two cents on the matter, and comment on how I perceive things.

I read my friend Abbey’s blog earlier this morning, in which she spoke about my collab channel video from yesterday, in which I discussed how my music taste has matured from the age of fourteen to the age of seventeen. She then goes on to observe how Nerdfighteria is not able to hold the more depressing views of people’s lives, and the community, as a whole, is up-beat and typically buoyant. The latter statement is easily assumed and factual, for the community is full of educated, well-rounded individuals who try to keep their head high, even in the darkest of situations. Now, as for the former statement, that is what I want to talk about.

There’s been a lot talk recently about how the YouTube community in general is suffering. With the placement of the new reaction button, the presence of comments with legitimately solid, and concrete opinions, is starting to dwindle. Emilythebravee had posted a video a few nights ago, stating how the community in general needs to piece itself back together; this video was followed up with a video from Claire on how she is altering the way she operates her channel. This call-to-action has been followed by many of my friends, and I feel like YouTube is on the brink of change, and it could go either way. Now, seeing as I am situated in the vlogbrothers community, I am seeing Nerdfighteria react to this change.

Nerdfighteria as a whole is a lovely place. People are usually kind and amicable, a shoulder to always lean on. The sub-community I am a part of is generally close-knit and we all know each other quite personally. I’ve only been a Nerdfighter since late January, but I feel as if I have been for much longer. But here’s the thing—it’s not as innocent as outsiders might think it is. Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has some dark secret, or some sort of darkness swelling within them, and just because the “heads” of our community don’t show that side of themselves, it still exists. No one is perfect. No one can proudly stand up and say, “I have a perfect life.” It doesn’t exist. You can be happy, of course, but your life is not perfect. There is always some sort of bad in a person’s life. It’s how things go. Nerdfighteria is not perfect. It’s far, far from perfect.

The imperfections of the community are not far from view. When a coalition of intelligent people form a community, easily heated debates are formed and people become harsh and words turn vitriolic. Mike made a video before, reprimanding the community on such actions. I mean, yes, I’ve said bad things to other people before, and yes, I regret them, but when a great force of people begin acting in such a way, the foundation of the community begins to falter and cracks and imperfections scar.

Another thing about the community is it is beginning to lose its humanity. TheFourOfClubs posted a video the other day, talking about fangirls. Many people see Charlie, Alex, John, Hank, as these "celebrities": People unattainable to talk to. They form this archetype within them that they are the perfect person/boyfriend/friend. Here’s the secret—they’re not. Do you honestly think people are going to put their flaws and imperfections online, broadcasting it to the entire world? No, they’re not, because they don’t want people to see that side. They don’t want to let people see them at their worst. YouTube videos are formulated of clever wording and flattering angles that make the person look put-together. Everything is scrutinized to the second mark, to ensure that everything is a quality video. Now, I’m not harping on the fact that this is the reason the community is becoming inhuman, I’m reprimanding the concept that people are living in a fallacy of perfection. They’re not perfect. They have flaws. They have secrets. They have stuff they don’t want you to know.

Now, where do we go is the question. I know personally, I have a lot to renovate. I haven’t watched a full Vlogbrothers video in over a month. I haven’t left a decent comment on anyone’s videos except my friends’, in a time period not even measurable. That’s my fault, and only my fault. I need to become a better viewer. I can make videos all I want, but if I don’t comment on other’s work, why should they on mine? That’s selfish, and narcissistic. Nerdfighteria needs a makeover. We need to stop focusing on ourselves, and start focusing on others; now, that may seem contradictive against what I just said, but it holds truth. By spreading out the focus of content, mainly away from ours, we’ll build the community back together. We need to stop worrying about view counts, comments, ratings, on our own videos, and start worrying about other makers. If we’re supportive of them, a hold will be equally met. No one can single-handedly save the community—it’s a team effort and we need to remain just that—a team.

Now finally, as for Abbey’s comment on being unable to handle dark matters—it’s true. Nerdfighteria is not usually one to ponder on things as dark as many teenagers have to face; however, it’s not something unable to be understood. The friends I have formed in this community have seen me at my absolute worst. They’ve seen me in near hysterics, and in absolute hysterics. And guess what? They’re Nerdfighters. But also, guess what? That’s a label on them. Labels are damaging (as Mike said in his video.) By labeling someone, you’re setting a prototype of a person. You’re expecting those people to have certain characteristics. When you think of a Nerdfighter basic traits come to mind: Smart, witty, introverted, a fascination with the literary world, technology savvy, good with math, musically inclined. But that’s not true for everyone. Yeah, I’m a Nerdfighter, but I’m horrendous at math. My friend Adam is very skillful at creating music, whereas, I’m horrendous. The label is what is damaging us. If we all assume everyone is a Nerdfighter, whether we want to or not, those traits are assumed. I’m not saying to completely get rid of the label. Not at all. I love being able to use it to find a common link between people. However, I feel that since it is used in surplus, it has become severely lackluster and losing its meaning. I believe that if we lose the label, we can let go of the comfortable hold we have in the community, and be exposed to other people’s interests, healing the belittling battles going on within the community.

This is my take on the subject, and I understand everyone is not going to feel the same. However, at the same time, all opinions are personal outlooks. This is not a bash against the community in any way, shape, or form. I’m proud of this community and humbled to be a part of it. It’s honestly what has formed me to be the young adult I am today. I stand at the brink, though. Will I personally fall off into the abysmal labyrinth that is centered on self and narcissism? Or, will I be able to reach out, and aid the rectifying of the community? Only time will tell, and I hope you all will take it upon yourself to ponder things personally.

I love you all.

AP Euro read:blah.
AP Lit: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I love him.
QOTD: "I'm the girl that nailed it."
Listening to: When in doubt, listen to The Beatles.
WIAW: I have nothing for you, kids.

Art skills

2011-08-11T23:49:00.002-04:00

Let's be a teenage girl

2011-08-10T22:47:00.005-04:00

Hi, blog.
So, I asked Jesse what I should blog about, and he said shoes, so I'm doing one of those survey things. They corrolate because shoes deal with teenagers, and if there's one thing teenagers love more than Facebook drama, it's those tediously droll surveys they do on Facebook. So I thought, why not be a typical teenage girl for one night? Maybe. Not necessarily typical, but closely similar.

BEGIN:

1. How old will you be in five years?
I will be twenty-two years old.

2. Who did you spend at least two hours with today?
My parents, and I'm not even sure that was two hours.

3. How tall are you?
I am 5'0" (Izzy, Gwen, Alexa--SHUT UP.)

4. What do you look forward to most in the next six weekss?
Me starting my senior year of high school is definitely needed in my life right now.

5. What’s the last movie you saw?
I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part Two) 2 weeks ago with Amber, Kelsey, Casey, Ben, and Al. It was a jolly good time.

6. Who was the last person you called?
I called my mom at work today to ask her if Nutella and an onion bagel would be good. She said no.

7. Who was the last person to text you?
Michael.

8. What was the last text message you received?
"Nuuuuthin"

9. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail?
I think my cousin left me a voicemail the other night asking for help on her English homework, but I ignored it completely. I'm such a lovely person.

10. Do you prefer to call or text?
It all depends on the reason for communicating. Phone calls are usually easier.

11. What were you doing at 12am last night?
I'm pretty sure I was sneaking around my kitchen, pantless, on a hunt to receive food without waking up my parents. All I ended up with was a stupid thing of yogurt. It was not fulfilling.

12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced?
My parents have been happily married for 18 years. And by happily I mean, they were arguing over a carton of milk a few nights ago.

13. When is the last time you saw your mom?
When I went on a hunt for a cookie, roughly ten minutes ago. She mumbled some sort of maternal greeting.

14. What color are your eyes?
Right now? Green. They change colors. It's weird.

15. What time did you wake up today?
I got a text at 10:30, so I got up. I have trouble falling back asleep when I wake up in the morning.

16. What are you wearing right now?
Are you trying to hit on me?

17. What is your favorite Christmas song?
The Chanukah Song

18. Where is your favorite place to be?
In my bed, under my covers, with my laptop, and a bag of ginger snaps.

19. Where is your least favorite place to be?
In the Forbidden Forest with Aragog.

20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?
London. But not right now. Right now it's sad. :(

21. Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years?
I hope I'll be the President of Disney World.

22. Do you tan or burn?
I actually do neither. I turn an acid green color, caused by the pollutants in the atmosphere. It messes up the complexion of my superhero exterior.

23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child?
Letter people. I'm not joking. In kindergarten, I had these things called night terrors, in which you become so trapped in your imagination, you start seeing the things you are thinking about, and since I was a nerd since I was conceived, all I did was read and write, thus I saw tiny people holding letters parading across my room. I also would make my mother "write" her name on my bed in my state of limbo, denying everything she wrote because it wasn't neat enough. It was actually quite serious. I mean, tiny letter people? I'm quite sure Hitler himself would clutch his panties in fear at that.

24. What was the last thing that really made you laugh?
This:

25. How many TVs do you have in your house?
We have seven, but only six are actually hooked up.

26. How big is your bed?
I was under the impression I owned a twin sized bed, but Alexa has brought to my attention that I do infact own a full sized bed. I kind of wish I slept in a hammock though. Or a cave. When I was younger, I legitimately wanted to live in a cave.

28. Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
Sleep?

29. What color are your sheets?
Doesn't matter, because you're never going to see them.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?
One, of course! What do you think I am, unfaithful? Gosh, I'm shocked to believe you'd honestly doubt my fidelity!

31. What is your favorite season?
Fall because I can throw crab apples at little kids. Kidding. I can throw them at puppies.

32. What do you like about fall?
Did you not read my previous sentence? God, you make me fill out these inane questions and you have the audacity to ignore my responses.

33. What do you like about winter?
Santa lets me come back to work.

34. What do you like about the summer?
Santa lets me leave work.

35. What do you like about spring?
I like pogo-sticks.

36. How many states/provinces have you lived in?
I don't live in a state. I live in the freakin' sea.

37. What cities/towns have you lived in?
Wow. Again you ignore my statements. I'm aghast.

38. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet?
I prefer no pants.

39. Are you a social person?
Society? Social media? Social networking? Eh, nope. Never heard of it.

40. What was the last thing you ate?
A cookie. And I also think a bug. I'm disgusted.

41. What is your favorite restaurant?
This is a heavy tie between Panera and Chipotle, and they're not even really restaurants. I'm going to have to go with Panera on this one, though.

42. What is your favorite ice cream?
Ew, you ice body lotion? You, sir, are disgusting.

43. What is your favorite dessert?
Your mom. Ooooooo.

44. What is your favorite kind of soup?
I like Target brand.

45. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J sandwich?
I like Nutella.

46. Do you like Chinese food?
How could you be so racist!

47. Do you like coffee?
Are you asking me out?

48. How many glasses of water, a day, do you drink on average?
Who are you, my mother?!

49. What do you drink in the morning?
My pee. LOL JK, my cat's pee.

50. What non-banking related card in your wallet is the most valuable to you?
My three years expired Bath and Body coupon card, of course.

51. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed?
Whatever side you sleep on, I sleep on that side.

52. Do you know how to play poker?
No, but I can poke a face.

53. Do you like to cuddle?
Please stop hitting on me.

54. Have you ever been to Canada?
I've seen Canada. That's all that really matters.

55. Do you have an addictive personality?
I like nail polish.

56. Do you eat out or at home more often?
Do I eat out?! I am so repulsed by you. So, so disgusted.

57. What do you miss about Pre-School, if anything?
.Remember those circular spin things? They were flat circles, and in the middle was a raised stool-type thing, and you would grab that and spin in circle. We had like, twelve of them. But not really, we had three, and I once kicked a girl in the face because I wanted one.

58. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you?
The Prince of England. I'm royalty.

59. Do you want kids?
Whatever you want, it's the opposite.

60. Do you speak any other languages?
I don't even speak one language.

61. Have you ever gotten stitches?
I don't think so. I almost had to when I fell out of a tree from trying to get a stuffed cat that was tied to a hockey stick. Don't ask.

62. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance?
That's my car.

63. Do you prefer an ocean or a pool?
I prefer dry.

64. Do you prefer a window seat or an aisle seat?
I prefer to kick it in the front seat.

65. Do you know how to dance?
It takes two to Tango. That's what I told your mom last night.

66. What is your favorite thing to spend money on?
Your mom.

67. Do you wear American Eagle Shirts? (or another brand)
I wear Russian eagle shirts. Everybody's Russian.

68. What is your favorite TV show?
I wasn't aware people still watched television.

69. Can you roll your tongue?
Ask your mom.

70. Who is the funniest person you know?
I know a lot of funny people. My dog, however, is a hoot. You should hear his stand-up.

71. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?
Ask your mom what my pet name for her is. There's a reason she's known as Teddy.

72. What is the main ring tone on your phone?
Dooo dooo daaa doooo deeee doooooo doooo dooo *click click click* ddaaaa ddooooo deee daaa. Actually, I'm not quite sure.

73. Do you still have clothes from when you were little?
I wear my onesies all the time.

74. What red object is closest to you right now?
My Mike Lombardo Trio stickers.

75. Do you turn off the water while you brush your teeth?
No, I want to kill the world, so I let it run all day.

76. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
I sleep in my closet, 'cause I go to Narnia.

77. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees?
Again, there's a reason your mom's nickname is Teddy.

78. Do you flirt a lot?
Ask my 17,473,483 significant others.

79. What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
Nothing, because I don't eat this.

80. What is your favorite food?
Your mom.

81. Can you change a lightbulb?
I prefer lightsabers.

82. Have you ever gotten Grounded?
What is Grounded? I've never been grounded, but I might have been Grounded.

83. Have you ever ran out of money?
Monopoly money is infinite.

84. What is your usual bedtime?
I told you, I don't sleep.

85. What was the last book you read?
Sense and Sensibility.

86. Do you read the newspaper?
Oh, yes, with my coffee clutched in one hand, my cozy slippers on my feet, sitting on my back porch on a lazy Sunday morning.

87. Do you have any magazine subscriptions?
Maxim, Playboy, and Vouge. (Seventeen)

89. Do you watch Disney? (Or another Channel)
After Raven left, my heart split into two pieces.

90. Do you dance in public?
That's actually my day job.

91. What radio station did you last listen to?
I don't know, some polka station my dad put on in the car to annoy me. I actually rather enjoyed it.

92. Who is in the picture frame closest to you?
No one is. The Arc de Triomphe is, and last time I checked, that was not a human being. Although, I could be mistaken.

93. What was the last note you scribbled on a piece of paper?
"chords email girl"

94. What is your favorite candle scent?
The poop scented one.

95. What is your favorite board game?
Board games make me bored.

97. When was the last time you attended church?
HA.

98. Who was your favorite teacher in Previous years?
I'm Not Sure Who My Favorite Teacher Was Because I Enjoyed Mostly All My Teachers, However, Even If I Did Have A Favorite Teacher, You Would Not Know Who They Are, Unless You Are My Stalker, But I Would Not Be Surprised At That News; Also, I Hate Improper Capitalization.

99. What is the longest you have ever camped out in a tent?
Me? Camping? That's like, putting a gerbil in a cat's cage. Not a good idea.

100. Who was the last person to do something extra special for you?
Your mom.

That was the biggest waste of thirty minutes of my life.
Okay, bye.

<3

AP Euro read:blah.
AP Lit: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen-- page. 64
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: This is forever funny.
QOTD: "HEY AB! WE'RE LOUNGING!!!"
Listening to: This music video though.
WIAW: This and this is becoming difficult for every day.

NUTTER BUTTER

2011-08-09T23:33:00.001-04:00

HI.

I have nothing, and I do mean NOTHING to talk about tonight, sooo, I'm going to do a What-Abby-Did-Today-Slash-Whatever-Is-Going-To-Skirt-Across-Her-Brain type post thing. Yeah

WELLLL, today I did an abundance of things all while trapped in my tiny town from hell. I went to lunch with one of my best friends, and we ran into two other friends, and we ate with them and discussed a myriad of things and they were typical boys. Then we went to Caribou to a get a drink, followed by a trip to my house to pick up my senior picture proofs. Then we went to my school, which I was not anticipating on seeing until August 29th. Wait, I lied. I'll see it on August 15th because cross country training starts. Nooooooooo. Anywho, afterwards, we went back to Town Square and I played in the toy aisle of The Dollar Store for longer than necessary and bought this hat.

Then I came home, ate gum, cleaned my room, crawled around my kitchen making dinosaur noises at my dog, then went driving. Then Michael had a blogTV, then I read some of Sense and Sensibility, and NOW HERE WE ARE.

I was so excited to show my mom my dinosaur hat, I put it on when I reached the end of my street and literally bolted to my house, because I was really excited. So when I walked in the door, I gurgled out (I had seven pieces of gum in my mouth,) "MOOOOOOMMM LOOKATTHISHATIBOUGHT. It'saDINOSAUR." And then started repetitively poking it to assure her it was indeed a hat.

In 5th grade I won the "Most Organized" award. But what was funny, is even though my desk was incredibly organized, I had an alien farm in there. Remember those little alien guys that would glow in the dark? Yeah, I had like twelve of those living in my desk. I would make little beds and stuff out of tissues for them, and when the CCD kids came for their evening classes, I'd leave an intimidating note such as,
"If you touch my aliens, I will find where you go to school, and break all of your crayons. And not the bad ones. I hope you have fun with Jesus tonight. -Abby."

I want some freakin' cake. Like, is that so hard to ask for? Why can't I just accio shit. I just went a flippin' cake. Like, a chocolate cake. Warmed up. Wet, moist, and chocolatey. OH MY GOD. Cake with Milk Duds!!!!!! Guys! Let's do that!!

I just flailed and kicked my night stand. There was no reasoning for my flailing. I sometimes just have random outburst of flailing. Oh my god, today I saw this GIGANTIC dog walking, and I thought it was going to knock me over. Don't worry, it didn't but, jinkies! That was scary.

It is raining. RAAAAAAAAAAIN,I FEEL IT.
Oh my god guys, like it is really raining.

Though often called the koala "bear," this cuddly animal is not a bear at all; it is a marsupial, or pouched mammal

I got a new Twitter name today. I was told it will benefit in the long run, but I'm just not accostmed yet to seeing ABBYNEVER, instead of my hipster, AbstractAbbyUNDERSCORE. Welp.

I have this weird pain in my ribcage. It kinda feels as if there is a capo jabbed, and open between each rib. I keep typing rib as rip. RRIIIIPP A BIGG ONEE.

Guys, I kinda feel like this right now.

But it's raining, so I also fee like this

But I kinda just wanna feel like this,

Hey, did you know my favorite holiday is Halloween? Yeah, it is. I just saw a food magazine for Halloween treats, like, yesterday. It's AUGUST, it's not even near fall yet! My collar bone is itchy. I just burped, and no one was here to rate it, so I don't know if it was good one or not.

K, well my toe itches and I smell bad, so I'm going to go do karate. LOL JK, I'm going to go knit a pair of socks.

Bye, fruit cakes.

<3

AP Euro read:blah.
AP Lit: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen-- page. 33
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I haven't even watched this yet, but I'm sure it's spectacular.
QOTD: "Are you ever normal?"
Listening to: WE LIKE TO PARTY
WIAW: Yeah!

The Essence of a Girl--abridged*

2011-08-08T23:39:00.002-04:00

AN: This blog post is dedicated to Al Frioni.

Heeeeeeeeeellloo, blog.

So, I was talking to my friend Al this evening, and requested a topic for me to blog about. After a slew of key-slams and typed stutters, we came up with the theme of music. But then I said no, SO, I made him choose another topic, and he originally said "explain shorts and skorts. I don't get the difference!" To which I responded by an incredulous, "WHAT" followed by an, "I'll blog about girls." So this, is Abby Stubenbort's guide to a girl.

First off, you need to know the parts and their purposes of a girl. Do not be disgusting. We have feet, for walking/running/wearing far too many pairs of Old Navy flip flops. We have arms for not only laying a myriad of bags from stores such as Barnes and Noble, Borders, Forever 21, and Target, across them, but also for flailing when we lay our hands on that new, glossy smooth John Green book (and then possibly followed by inappropriate thoughts about said author, stemmed from the brain, but more on that cog later.) We also have hands that are used for wildly typing on blogs, or used in excess while explaining the tortured love story of Severus Snape and Lily Evans. We have mouths that are used to spew out an abundance of information, such as the nail polish we just bought, the reasons why Oxford Commas are essential, or to explain to you why you are wrong. We have eyes to judge you...and to oggle at how adorable Tyler Oakely is. We have ears to listen to what you're saying, and also to let Darren Criss's smooth voice slide across our bodies, releasing the inane fangirl within us all. We have noses to smell out doughnuts from across a room, and know when to stray away from the Axe laden males approaching outside of American Eagle. We have hair to whip back and forth, and to complain about when it gets in the way of our Tumblr dashboard, obscuring our vision. We also have brains that tell us when Nutella is a need, and to fill the world with brilliant knowledge. We also have hearts, that a lot of guys tend to smash to pieces, causing us to help each other out to fix it.

Next, our clothing. Now, not many girls feel as if too much time and effort is to placed into their wardrobe. The basic line is this--pants are never good. The more times you can remain pantless the better. Therefore, it can easily be assumed that if a girl is home alone, she is more than likely to be pantless. Pants are just a hassle. There's too much fabric and they cling and are uncomfortable to be lying down and eating from a jar of Nutella in. They just become irksome. However, seeing as we do need to venture out in public, there is a loophole through not wearing pants--these beauties are skirts and dresses. Now, there is a heavy divider between girls as if dresses/skirts are comfortable. Personally, I would much rather be in a skirt or dress, but that's just me. But in absolute honesty, if pants weren't, you know, kind of necessary, I'd be pantless forever. I can't be tamed. Now bringing back Al's original question about the difference between shorts and skorts--this is quite a simple explanation. Girls wear shorts, we don't wear skorts. I mean honestly, when was the last time you saw someone wearing a skort? I mean, there's a difference if it is an athletic skort, used for activities such as tennis, but a common, everyday skort? Mm mm. Nope. Here's the stark difference between them--if you're wearing a skort, you're defeating the purpose of the skirt. The purpose of the skirt is to get rid of the pant aspect. Delete the middleman--literally. If you wear a skort, you're being severely counterproductive. Just...no. Aside from not pants, we sometimes wear shirts. They're usually blazoned with some type of nerdy band you've never heard of, their Hogwarts house, or some stupid school shirt/ an event they worked. Others, wear plain v-necks, nothing too serious, because you don't need to look hot scrollin' through Tumblr--baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no mo'. Other than that, jewelry is limited to a ring here or there, perhaps a necklace while filming videos. Other than that, we're laid back. So, it's entertaining when guys think girls fret over what we look like constantly, because in reality, we don't. I think we're more worried what you look like. A red plaid shirt, with green plaid bottoms? Yeah, get back to me on that one.

We also have this terribly addicting thing called "girl-crushes" and oh, we have plenty of girl crushes. To be honest, I think I can list you more girls I find hot then I do guys. It's just how it is. Like, Mila Kunis? Emma Stone? Please, and thank you. But hear this--just because we find other girls attractive, don't assume we are all lesbians. Also, don't assume that means a three-some is coming your way. Be more rational than that--we'd just leave you out of the fun.

Finally, allow me to wrap up with what guys fear the most--girl talk. In reality, it's not that difficult if an ignoramus of a male would actually pay attention to the former part of the sentence instead of fantasizing about the bikini clad girls in their Grand Theft Auto game. I mean, we honestly don't speak of that dry of subjects. I mean, here and there a conversation about OPI nail polish, or Zac Efron's hip bones might arise, but aside from that, conversations are relatively educationally stimulating. Also, another thing guys seem to absolutely slight, if the fact that girls talk to each other, and we're not stupid. Trust me, anything you are trying to hide from a girl will be found out. You can't hide things from us. At all. We're creepy, and we know we're creepy, and we're also NOT stupid. Loopholes abound, and we're the small mouse that fits through that hole. Never doubt a girl, because, we will undoubtedly, figure you out. You can't hide from us. There's no escape (ing it, I'm trapped with no way ouuut, with no way oooouttt. She's evverrywheeree I looookkkkk, down evverrryy path I took.). You have no choice but to be honest with us. We might spare you then.

So, I mean, girls really aren't as difficult as you think we are. Buy us bagels, nail polish, a glass of chocolate milk, and books and we'll sit in the corner blissfully and let you play your games. Another thing that should be mentioned is, don't doubt us. We can belch, we can play video games, we can eat an entire pizza on our own. You might think we're unable to partake in your "manly" affairs, just because we have an extra X chromosome, but you are sadly mistaken. Girls are bad ass and could very easily out-wit you, out-play you, and out-battle you. We're uncontrollable, and not the little girls you think we are. This is your warning. Don't doubt us. If you do consider it the worst decision you ever made.
You've been cautioned--heed it well.

<3

* These are all based on the stereotypical nerd girl. The best type of girl.

I actually had a lot more to put into this, but let's face it, I'm far too lazy.

AP Euro read:blah.
AP Lit: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen-- page. 21
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I still have a crush on Michael lAranda
QOTD: "End it with 'and Now I have to go watch some Joss Whedon show because Jesse told me to.'"
Listening to: Does this ever get old?
WIAW: Keep London in your thoughts.

Jess Sucks

2011-08-07T23:40:00.000-04:00

Starla Sprinkles Delight was walking down the Strip in Las Vegas when a man in a cheetah print fur trench coat approached. The Stranger asked him where his towel was. Starla told the stranger that the towel was in the nearest casino. The stranger looked behind him at the brightly lit casino entrance and saw a crowd of people outside it apparently. One of them was Oliver Wood with a sign that said "Show boobies plz" and he was looking attractive. Oliver was surrounded by flamboyantly clothed people of all genders, ages, and sizes wearing bright robes and holding picket signs of some sort. He considered going home, but that towel was very dear to him. He approached the picketers. Oliver turns to the man and says "show boobies or you do not get into the casino!" She replied with, "I will only show my boobies if I can get a huge plate full of chicken nuggets with BBQ sauce." So she flipped her hair and hit him in the face. Oliver gasped and said, "I am ALLERGIC to hair, and this will surely destroy me!" "MOONSHOES POTTER! ROCKET SHIP POTTER!" a girl (boy?) shouted behind her, then knocked her into Wood. The boy/girl then ran and jumped onto a sheep which grew wings and flew away into the night. "It's not everyday somebody's parents die and they inherit enough money to buy out NASA..." And they rode off into the stars on his sheep, only to land on Pigfarts.

blogTV is fun.

<3

AP Euro read:blah.
AP Lit: blah.
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: Courtesy of Abbey
QOTD: Courtesy of Mollie: "Many people were under the impression that I had a badly behaved rabbit." - Remus Lupin
Listening to: Courtesy of Alexa
WIAW: Courtesy of Jesse

WEDDING

2011-08-06T13:24:00.000-04:00

I AM LEAVING FOR A WEDDING IN LIKE 3 SECONDS SO I NEED TO GO RIGHT NOW

BUT FIRST,
HERE'S HOW TO KEEP A DRESS ON YOUR BODY

BUT I SERIOUSLY HAVE TO LEAVE NOW, OKAY BYE

Tales from a 17-year-old Toys R Us kid

2011-08-05T22:50:00.003-04:00

Hi, blog. So, remember that one time when I turned severely deep and philosophical? Yeah, sometimes that happens. In relevant news, Alexa made a video response to my body image blog. In not so relevant news, my body temperature is playing games on me. Do you know what is not a good song? This.

Okay, so, did you ever hear of Radio Disney? I'm sure you have. Well, I used to be a GIANT Disney Channel freak. I mean this was a seriously twisted addiction. I fawned over all the Disney queens: Raven, Hilary, Tia and Tamara--they were the original divas. Well, I listened to Radio Disney constantly and the life goal of 8-year-old Abby was to win the Ultimate Prize. Well, that's what I called it. I'm sure it was actually named something like, "RADIO DISNEY'S ROCKIN' OUT ALL SUMMER LONG FEED THE HOMELESS BEAVERS WHO SUFFER FROM SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION PALOOZA" Or something like that.

But one prize, the Ultimate Prize, was a driving hunger in me. I lusted after it. Needed it. Ever ounce of me knew that the prize belonged with me. I would be able to do anything if I won that Ultimate Prize. I contemplated the things an 8-year-old could accomplish with the Ultimate Prize. Anything. Feed a million dogs, grow a Hippolephant (Hippo/elepephant. Duh.) The world was mine for the taking with the Ultimate Prize. What was it you ask? The Ultimate prize was 10 minutes of free will in Toys R Us.

THINK ABOUT IT. You have TEN MINUTES in Toys R Us ALONE to grab WHATEVER you want! Find a child who doesn't want that, and I will slap some sense into them. I would want that prize NOW. I literally had dreams about that prize. It's all I wanted.

I had a system for how it would operate. It would be conducted in a series of five stages, each stage pertaining to a different section of the store. I would have an army of helpers to help me along the way and accomplish things I couldn't do, such as pushing buggies, using their grown-up legs to walk faster, using their longer arms to reach things 8-year-old Abby (or 17-year-old Abby) couldn't reach.

Stage one was adjusted to how Toys R Us was when I was a child. When you first walked in, to the immediate right was the plush animal section. This was young Abby's favorite part of the store. I gazed longingly at all the cuddly toys, wanting to be squeezed and fluffed by me. One in particular I had my dark, chocolate orbs locked on, was that giant pink unicorn with the sparkly collar. This thing was gigantic. It was roughly the size of my bed now, and was half the width of my bed now (I have a twin bed, if that helps. But not really.) Every time we went to Toys R Us I had to go stroke its soft, silky fur and intertwine my fingers through its full mane. It was mine. I needed it. That was the first thing on my list of things I needed to grab when I won the Ultimate Prize.

The second stage was the outdoor toys section. The time I spent indoors is a stark transition than what it is now. I think my parents feared I was going to be a child of the wolves because I was never inside. I woke up at 8 in the morning (Yeah, I was insane) and went outside, came in only when I had to use the bathroom (but, even still, I have a forest in my back yard. Trees were just as acceptable. Yes, I ~~was~~ am disgusting) and when I thought I was going to topple over from lack of food. Within the small section of my area of the street, there were 20 kids, and my neighbor was a baby-sitter. Our kickball games were BAD ASS. Moving on, back to my relevance, the outdoor section was located just past the superhero section adjacent to the plush animals. I would hit there and instruct my minions to gather only the biggest, and baddest of water guns, the most expensive of chalk, and please, no generic scooters--only Razor would get the job done.

Stage three is where things got a bit more tricky. If you traveled further north up the store, you began to run into Babies R Us, and the arts and crafts part of the store. Since I was neither a baby, nor an art or craft, I had to throw the operation into reverse, and start backwards again. I had to cut to the right though, just before the super hero section, because that took me to an aisle that led me straight to Bratz Doll paradise. After reaching the destination, it was much easier: The packaging of the dolls were bulky and able to be grabbed in an abundance, therefore, one quick sweep of my arm down the row into the buggy would successfully complete stage three.

Stage four was my favorite stage, aside from my stuffed animalgasm. Here be dragons. No, really. There were dragons right here because we have reached the video game section. This area was parallel to the dolls, so I planned it just right. I only needed the Playstation and GameBoy Advance section, so I did not have to venture far into the aisles. However, in order to achieve maximum game retrieving, I had to put my army to work, but of course they could not help me out fully, because they don't know what games I wanted. So I made of things that I wanted and I not want.
1. Anything with animals. That you don't kill
2. Spyro, Crash Bandicoot, and Mario were always okay.
3. No blood, because that's for boys.
4. No boring games where you have to do a tutorial. Tutorials are for n00bs.
5. Nothing with cars, except racing games.
6. If the case was pink, it was automatically my favorite game.
7. If the case had camoflouge, even if it matched one of these, it had to be replaced.
8. No doll games. I had physical dolls.
9. No games where they don't speak English.
10. and finally, no Tetris.
Once this list was observed and scrutinized (beforehand, of course) stage four would commence properly.

Stage five was the wrap up/how much time is remaining part. I needed to swing the ship around, and bring it back up north, near the front of the store. Right in front of the cash registers was the candy section. Here, young children could hack and gnaw at a variety of sugar laden treats that would ensure their wearing of braces in years future. Depending on how much time was left, this part could have failed, or been a huge success. This part was simple. I would yell, "ARMY, BREAK!" and they would start swarming around me, tossing candy bags haphazardly into the cart and at me. All candy was acceptable except the gummy tarantulas. WHO would eat those? The rules of the prize was that you had to report back at the doors when 10 minutes were up, so with 5 seconds remaining, we'd bolt to the doors, roughly 50 meters in front of us, and beam wildly that the operation went swimmingly.

I was trapped in such a illusion that this was the ticket to my happiness. I called the station an irrational amount of time, and helplessly, I wrote to Raven on her section of the Disney Channel site, if she could help me out. I guess she didn't see it in my future, because A. That bitch never wrote me back, and B. I never won. I sulked for minutes every time a winner was announced.

It was all I ever wanted.

And you know what, 17-year-old Abby would love the same prize.
So, this is my call to you, Toys R Us. Let this big, bad teenager come play with you for a bit.
You'll never be the same.

<3

hahahathatsoundedsodirtylol
Oh, and everything is okay about last night.

AP Euro read: I organized my bookshelf today!
AP Lit: ^
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: This is the most beautiful thing I've seen all day.

QOTD:

Listening to: ugggh, I've been infatuated with Mika for far too long. 10 years isn't THAT bad. I AM legal, after all. ;)
WIAW: He is as old as mom, and it doesn't stop my libidinous thoughts about him.

Decisions

2011-08-04T21:21:00.002-04:00

If you're like me, the thought of having to make up your mind is a horrifying, gut-wrenching feeling, and a constant fear of doubt seems to wash across you. You constantly doubt your choice, and then have a cold, spine-tingling sensation that you've chosen the wrong thing. Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, and you find yourself trapped in your own mind, surrounded by negative thoughts.

I can't make up my mind. Ever. It could be honestly the smallest thing, and I still struggle with choosing. For example, I went shopping today, and it took me approximately eight minutes to choose ONE nail polish. Do I have this color? Will it look okay? Is it cheap? Will it chip? I honestly cannot make up my mind ever. So, obviously, when I'm faced with an option of much higher priority, I tend to lose the grip on myself a bit.

I am in a sticky situation right now.

It's a situation I always seem to find myself in: Not knowing what to say to someone. Do you know when you have to tell someone something, but it could be seen as controversial in their eyes, so you try to hold it in? But then, the more you try to push it behind you, the more you start chipping away at yourself, and it starts looming over you, wrapping, and warping around you, until you feel like you can't stop it. Everything about it consumes you. You can't stop thinking about it, you start regretting things, trying and forcing yourself to forget things, but you just can't. But it grows, and eats away at you. Not being able to talk to someone about something is one the most difficult things, in social terms, a human being can face. You don't want to anger the person, but you're scared you might.

I have placed myself in this situation far too many times for existing for only seventeen years. Usually petty things from elementary school come to mind. How about the time in 2nd grade when I accidentally ripped my friend's favorite dress-up dress, so I threw it in her brother's closet and blamed it on her little cousin. Or, that time in 5th grade when I cracked the practice typing CD in two pieces, and being unable to take scorn from an adult, let alone a teacher, I hid it in the box and got a new one. I chose the easy road then. But what about now that I'm older? Like the time I had to tell a friend that she was using me, and I couldn't associate that way anymore. Or what about the time I told a friend about something her other friend and an ex-boyfriend did while they were still together, and she got mad at me? The latter is what strikes fear. One of my biggest fear in life is receiving disappointment from others. It could be any form of disappointment, laying across a scale of mild impasse, to lucid, fiery anger. I am severely intimated when people are angry with me.

I don't last long with fights with friends. And usually, I'm the one crawling back to them even if they are the ones who marred me. I'm baffled at myself when I do this, but I just can't help it. I am usually fairly descent at being able to read people, thus, I know when someone is angry with me, bored, annoyed, surprised--any emotion. But having that weird gut-feeling is absolutely depressing.

As I've said many times before, I have a weird set of emotions. I also have the worst jealousy issue in the world. My emotions range to every extreme on the spectrum, and due to that, I tend to make people upset. I have to constantly ask people if they're mad or upset with me, because they act indifferent. If a friend is texting me back with one word answers, I automatically assume they're upset with me, so I wrack my head, trying to think of something I did wrong, something I said, anything that would lead them to be mad with me. I blame myself. All the time. I never assume it's somebody else's fault. I always, always, always think it's me. Why? I don't know, it's not to be a martyr of any sort. I'm not vainglorious on my pedestal. Hardly. It's quite the antithesis. I question my relationships with people. Do you know how you usually remember what people say about themselves, such as personal anecdotes, favorites, inane matters? I never think people would remember mine. Again, this is not a cry for regards, but it's how I function. I just never think highly of myself, I guess.

What this boils down to is this: decision making is its own art form. It's unpredictable. When faced with decisions you are facing a blinding wall. Being unable to predict what ahead is your greatest obstacle. You have the power to control the vicissitude, however. Sure, you can't control how the other person reacts, but you have the power to control how you will react.

If a negative reaction occurs, instead of dwelling on the counterpart of the situation, step back and look at how you feel. If you feel as if a weight has been lifted, you've chosen the right path. If your heart sinks to that dark, abysmal void, you may have struck falsely desired quandary. It's up to you. Use your brain-- it's your greatest weapon. The choice lies with you.

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

<3

I'm feeling philosophical as of late. Sue me.
Tonight, I hope I make the right decision.

Miles ran: This will be the last time this is here, until August 15th.
AP Euro read: None, but I purchased Sins of the House of Borgia by Sarah Bower. Very excited for this read.
AP Lit: I re-read the list of books I have to read.
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: Thank you, Laney!
QOTD: "You are a bitch butt!" - Cecelia Ellis
Listening to: my thoughts.
WIAW: I'm so drawn to their family story. It's absolutely compelling.

Body Image

2011-08-03T21:22:00.002-04:00

Hello, blogsphere.

I'm going to be blunt and tell you that, for once, Abby is going to be serious. Well, attempt at being serious. Today, while I was perusing the website reddit, I came across this news article stating how dieting is actually a fallacy for what it claims to hold true to. By starving yourself, you're causing a chemical reaction to go off within your brain, which starts sending signals that make fatty acids build, thus, you gain more weight. As I took that in, it made me think why people diet to start off with. I mean, I'm not necessarily "dieting," I'm merely trying to watch what I consume for the sake of being healthy, not to lose weight. But there are a myriad of dieting books gracing the windows storefront, that promise to make you "LOSE WEIGHT, FAST, QUICK, AND EASY." Which, obviously, is not possible, if done healthily.

Why is it though that people, teens in specific, are so focused on losing weight? It pains me to see ads run on television, and shoddy magazine ads, flaunting tall, skinny, tan models displaying their product. Their hair is lush, their complexion flawless, long, sexy legs. It seems that everything about them is perfect. But once you step back and realize that their are so many faults, and misconceptions masked by clever media, you realize that no one is perfect on this Earth, as much as you believe them to be.

Body image is one of those things that is "sort of" discussed to teenagers. In health class, it's focused, obviously, on the health aspect of things. Magazines, such as the ALWAYS reliable Cosmopolitan, focus on the physical aspect of things. And health professionals focus on the mental aspects of things. Why can't there be one that focuses on all three? It's a lack of knowledge constituting the aspects together that is most vital for the modern aged teenager. I suffered with body image, for a long, long time. I'm very short. I'm not skinny. I have curves. I have a bigger chest, a small waist, big hips, a bigger backside, and runners calves that don't match my body well. I hate my profile, and my skin can't stay as clear as I wish it would. My hair is thick, long, and hard to manage. My eye color changes from a god-awful brown, to a dark, hideous green. I have small hands, and stubby fingers, resulting from having them curved from piano (oddly enough, I have a reverse effect from what is supposed to come from playing piano.) There was a time when absolutely all of those things would destroy me. I would cry over the jean size I had to get, because my best friend was in a 00, when I had to buy a 5. The fact that I had to keep buying bigger shirt sizes because my chest size matured so rapidly in a year, tore at me for days. I hated my body, I hated shopping, I hated myself. Most of this was in my sophomore year of high school. I was fighting for, melodramatically, my life over a guy that honestly could care less about me, I was getting into fights every single day with my "friends," and I felt my grip on myself, and my life in general, was slipping. I started spiraling downwards into depression. I wore a lot of makeup, I strayed away from tight tops, and preferred my baggy sweat shirt over my nicer tops. I never wore skirts or dresses because I could never look as good in them as my small, petite friends. I was so unhappy. My mood reflected that, my schoolwork began to reflect that, and my relationships in general began to match as well. But then, something hit me.

It was probably halfway through my Junior year. I don't really remember a certain point, but all I know, one day, I just realized how stupid I was being. My body is what it is. I can't change it. Both sides of my family are curvy, and short. I'm genetically predisposed to being short, with far too many curves than this body can handle. Yeah, I'm loud. Yeah, I have an annoying voice, and a vociferous laugh. I'm clumsy, and think I'm far too funny than I really am. I get jealous far too easily, and attach myself to people too quickly. But, that's okay. That's me. It's who I am. I can't control it. Yes, I can make small, intrinsic changes to my personality. Yes, I can lose weight, and drop jean sizes. Sure. But it would only be successful if that's what I want. And in reality, I don't want that. I am at a point in my life, where I am just so content with my body, and myself in general. Yeah, sure, the weight I lost last year in cross country came back, and brought even a small amount more with it. And of course I've tried to get rid of it, but I wanted to get rid of it to be more healthy. I didn't want to stop eating junk food this month so I can fit back into that black dress from cross country season. I want to do it to be healthy. That's honestly the essential, essential part of body image. You need to be healthy mentally, before you are physically.

This evening, I asked a couple of my close female friends if they've ever had body image issues. I was heart broken at hearing them tell me everything they hated about themselves, and everything people have said. It hurts to see that some people don't see themselves how others see them, in the positive light. A very good point my friend Deanna brought up was this, "Everyone is their own worst critic but we're also constantly comparing ourselves to each other which has its positives and negatives. It stops us from being too self conscious but also makes us more envious sometimes."

This is a good point because it's true. How often do you catch yourself comparing your body to that of a friend, a stranger, even a celebrity? You're lying to yourself if you say you don't. I do it on a daily basis. Why can't I look like Mila Kunis, or have the beautiful hair of Taylor Swift? Why can't my stomach be flat and in shape like Selena Gomez's? But then you have to stop and realize, that these people are in the public eye. They are forced to look this good, because if they don't, they'll lose their job. Which sounds terrible, but how much have you been hearing about Ke$ha recently? Not a lot, right? Well, guess what? She gained weight, that's why you haven't been hearing about her. She's dropping off the radar because of her physical appearance . That is sickening. Cliche statement, but video truly killed the radio star.

What I want you to know, blog reader, whomever you might be: You are beautiful. You are beautiful in absolutely every way possible. Someone makes fun of your hair? Awesome, they probably just failed their English test, while you rocked it. If someone tells you your fat? I guarantee they secretly like the jacket you're wearing. People hide behind their words. They're cowards. The people who are rude to you, are rude because they're scared themselves. People insult others to make themselves feel better, trust me. Yes, I've been down that road. When you insult others, it makes you feel like a higher power, it's something I took back with me from camp. Since then, I've tried to say fewer negative things about people, and more positive. Yeah, it's sounds ultra-corny, but it makes you feel better. But think about how it makes you feel when someone says something unkind about you, and ponder that feeling.

I just want you all to know, again, whomever is still reading, that I care enormously about you. I'm not that old, and I really haven't experienced much that the world has to truly offer, but I've gone through a lot of emotional turmoil, and I am here to help you out every step of the way. If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to about anything, I'm always here to listen. You have a plethora of social networking sites to get a hold of me, as well as personal communication.

You are beautiful. You are perfect. You are uncommon.
Embrace it.

<3

Miles ran: >.<
AP Euro read: N/A
AP Lit: N/A
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I'm sure this was a VOTD once, but it is just so damn cute.
QOTD: Me:Have you eaten?
             Gwen:They gave me two crackers.
                Me: Two?
                Gwen: Yes. Just two. I feel like a drugged up cat.
Listening to: To lighten the mood. :)
WIAW: The original sultry temptress

Intelligence of the Sexes

2011-08-02T23:55:00.001-04:00

Do you know what sucks?
A vacuum.
Do you know what is not cool?
Lava.

Hello, blog. It is Tuesday, and apparently inane joke day, too. Also, it is apparently the day my laptop decided to be the biggest jerk on this planet and mock me in any and every aspect a piece of technology can. Allow me to explain: Actually, I can't explain, because I have no idea what is wrong with it. Apparently, something is wrong with my battery, so it keeps telling me, "Consider replacing your battery." Well, you know what DELL? How about I consider replacing your face. Yeah, that's right. Cower in the corner from my diminutive status as I come after you with a spork. Now we'll see who will start considering things. WHAT.

However, this ~~mini~~ gigantic catastrophe has brought forth ideals that I have always held back in my subconscious because the "feminist" within me would stab me with a pointed pencil if I thought otherwise. And what those ideals are, you ask? It's not that uncommon, actually. It's the line that is drawn between the intelligence of males versus the intelligence of females.

Think back to school. How many male classmates did you have to help this past year on a Emily Dickinson poem or understanding the Women's Movement in history? Or, how about having to explain basic concepts like, oh, I don't know, baking a cake? But now, think about how many times you've had to request the assistance of a male classmate in either a Physics homework assignment, or a strenuous Trigonometric formula needed to be foiled down. It seems to me that there are lines drawn that society has put forth dealing with the understanding of certain fields distributed to each sex. I mean, I know I'm horrible at science and math, and my inability is alike those of many of my female friends. And I get at least 3 phone calls a night from male friends for help on English homework. But sometimes, I wonder, if those are just a stereotype, or scientifically proven.

I've done research, no doubt, but none have been able to give me concrete facts as to why this stereotype was formed, and also, why it seems to be true, in most cases. I mean, don't get me wrong, I have straight As and I'm in all honors and APs (this is not to brag, shush) but I still struggle with math and science. One way one could make an analogy of this is the simple task of opening a jar. For a female*, trying to open a jar is a daunting task. I can vouch, for today, I attempted to open this yummy jar of delicious (that on top of cream cheese, eaten with tortilla chips= one way ticket to an Abby foodgasm), but I was having severe difficulty. I am a runner. I have lower body strength. So, meekly, I picked up the jar, and trotted over to my neighbor's house to ask if he could open the jar for me. I was unashamed! Jar opening is difficult. So, back to the analogy: sometimes, things can be long, drawn out, and hard (heh heh) and opening a jar is a difficult challenge...for the most part. Math and science usually have a lengthy, complex system that you have to follow in order to reach your goal. English however, is a creative art form, an expression, almost a different sense that you have to feel and grasp. Men don't have that**. My dad is a perfect example. He is by far the least eloquent human being to grace this earth, thought a thesaurus was a dinosaur, and can't spell if his life depended on it. However, when it comes to math, he is absolutely outstanding, and hardly ever uses a calculator, ever. Granted, he's a carpenter, so he has to know numbers and what not, but still. It supports my "facts."

Now, I know this is obviously not the case for everyone. There are females far beyond my comprehension of understanding that excel magnificently in the more technical sides of things. I admire women in the science field for their ability to, in layman's terms, make guys look like asses. Intelligence is by far the most important attribute a human being can posses. Without education, you are callow and incomplete. But, I just want to know why I am terrible at all things technical, but excel in the "art" side of things. I am confused.

What about you guys? Do you have certain strengths in certain areas that match those of my stereotypes? I'm curious as to see your answers.

I'm sorry this blog again is terrible, but I am beyond distracted doing something...else. "IT RHYMES WITH SMELLEN SMEGENRES."

On that note, I will type you all tomorrow.

<3

*Again, not all.
**Not. All.

Miles ran: -.-
AP Euro read: N/A
AP Lit: Sh.
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I could listen to him play piano literally ALL day.
QOTD: "It's like Oprah, but a white, blonde, gay woman."
Listening to: Jim Sturgess can Slytherin my bed.
WIAW: Hm.

BeingErraticDefinesAbby

2011-08-01T22:40:00.004-04:00

I hope you know I just thrashed out heavily to "Crazy Train" before typing this blog. Yes, it's that time, kiddos. No, AGAIN, not Christmas. It's BEDA.

Let's all celebrate this lovely piece of news with a hoopla of vociferous cacophony from our bedroom windows to enrage the elderly couple walking their dog down the street!

Yes, now that we've irritated the venerable elders, it's time to regroup ourselves. Calm down, children. Breathe, inhale. All set? Good, good. Hi! How are you? Enjoying your final summer weeks? Good, good (I've just made the assumption you are--my apologies if you are not.) Well, yes. I am doing BEDA. In the early stages of AbbyBlogs, I had "Abby Always Alliterates Ambiguously." Remember those days? Those were so pleasant. But not really. Alliterating becomes rather difficult at times. However, do you remember when I tried BEDMarch? That was, undoubtedly, an utter failure. But, now, I am back and better than ever! Well, it depends on what your definition of "better" is. Everyone that I have discussed BEDA with has brought up the point, "What are you going to blog about?" and the truth is, I have NO inclination at all. Most of my blogs are so muddled and barely concrete, because I choose what I am going to discuss halfway through typing something out. I guess that is just accredited to my inane ability to be as spontaneous as I am.

Speaking of spontaneous, I am sunburnt. I went swimming today! Which, actually, should not sound as surprising as I hyped it up to be, but that's simply because I have a pool. BUT, I never go in it. As to why I don't, I have no idea. Honestly, I'd much rather be found scrolling through the endless pages of Tumblr, than sweating from the sweltering heat on my pool deck. Also, I want to get into Pottermore tonight. And I want school to start. But not really. At all. I want to graduate. There, that's much better. June 7th, 2012 is my day of graduation. It cannot come any sooner.

WELL, yes, I honestly have nothing to say in this post because I'm becoming severely distracted by the Internet. Surprise, surprise.

OH. Before I forget, I'm using this blog also as my "Abby needs to be healthy because she's stupid and not healthy" tracker. I am not drinking sugared drinks or junk food for the entire month. So, no Nutella, no Mountain Dew, no PEACH RINGS. I think it will be something good for me, to possibly stop the three-year-old who has rooted herself into my bloodstream.

So, BEDA day one.
Done.

I'llhavemoretosaytomorrow.

Miles ran: My hip is even more messed up than it was before. AHHiagfijaijgo.
AP Euro read: DONE. With my first assignment.
AP Lit: I went to the library today, and they didn't have my book!
Currently reading: The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty
VOTD: I would marry her
QOTD: "I have a problem. I can't get my shoe off."
Listening to: Her voice astonishes me.
WIAW: I don't even know why I am looking this up.

AP's the reason for the cold drool on my keyboard, the reason I'm falling asleep against my bedroom door.

2011-07-28T21:52:00.003-04:00

In case you were wondering, they no longer sell the cookie dough Frosty at Wendy's. I am hearbreakingly disappointed at this news.

Hello, blog. It is that time again--no, not Christmas. Since we've last met, much has happened. I have chosen a college*, I got my proofs for senior pictures (not as rough as I was fearing) , scheduled my actual senior pictures, I wore 30 shirts at once, I survived a near-death experience with an exotic bug from hell, and I'm currently having my first taste of college life. Outside, the only way one would be able to describe the rumbling, is to compare the sound to that of my father's stomach after he eats my grandmother's bean soup. It's not pretty. Not pretty at all. I'm typing this blog rather early**, for the fear of losing power--which I would not be surprised if it happened. At all. Faulty wiring lines my street, with transformers that are more temperamental than Taylor Swift's dating life.

Aforementioned sentence being my college life--I have delayed and procrastinated my summer assignment to a point of foolishness, and now, pretty much, I'm screwed. Tomorrow I am leaving for Buffalo, New York until Saturday night, and my notes for this book have to be in by Sunday at noon. I have read 116 out of 276. If I really wanted to, I could have it finished by tonight but that would require forcing myself to pay attention, and for some reason, I am ungodly tired for 9:00 PM, so that would require several glasses of caffeinated beverages, and seeing as I am trying to watch what I'm consuming, that'd be bluntly stupid. Plus, after a while, no matter how interesting the corruption of the Vatican and Roman history may be, I can only handle so much of Alessandro de Aquillo Maquiez Rodrigo Taco Bell IV.***
****

So, thankfully, a past student (this book is a hand-me-down) has underlined a collection of key points, and aided with my shoddy underlining, I am supplied with a decent amount of notes. Yes, team cheating! The only thing is, if I am having this much difficulty to get my summer assignment done, senior year is going to be rather rough. But, in the back of my mind, I know I'm just being lazy. Plus, the other books I have to read are English books. But, I don't like English. At all. Actually, I don't even know what that is. I speak fluent Sarcasm.

In regards to my life outside the Internet--I am happier than ever. This week, I had a reunion with my camp friends on Monday, and we said goodbye to our Brazilian friend, Gustavo, went to a cemetery in the absolute darkness (to Abby's dear dismay), I was reunited with Florence--the other half to my Agnes, and ate doughnuts because my beautiful friend, Casey, brought them to my absolute gratification. Here are pictures, because you all care, so much:

I ate cake like a fiend, and as we had no plates (do not ask why--we are teenagers, not parents. Gosh, you expect us to conform!?) so I was forced to find solace over a garbage can. It was not solace.

This is KACA--Kelsey, Abby, Casey and Amber. They are probably the coolest girls in the entire world. I have spoken about Kelsey on here before, I'm sure.

This picture defines our friendship magnificently.

This is Gustavo, the Brazilian, and me being photobombed. I was completley unaware of all of them there.

And this is a group shot.

On Tuesday, I hung out with Kelsey, and ate Mac 'n Cheese. It was Cars shaped, in case you were wondering. Later in the evening, we went to dinner at Panera with Amber, Casey, and two other camp friends, Al and Ben. I had a salad and a cinnamon bagel. I could literally live off of Panera and Chipotle for the rest of my life. Afterwards, we went to Barnes and Noble and played a game in which the participants are to read from a romance novel and see who can last the longest (yes, that was an implied sex joke. Consider the context of the sentence. Obviously unable to pass up.) If you've never read a romance novel, and you are under the age of 17, don't. I accidentally stumbled across one when I was in 7th grade and I am forever scarred. After our bookstore jaunt, we saw Harry Potter again, and earlier that day I had to recap movies 5-7 pt. 1 for Kelsey, and afterwards she told me I did a fantastic job because she understood everything. I take pride in my ability to summarize the series. Amber and I were the only ones who had seen the movie previously, so we were prepared for all the horrific parts that make the fangirl within cry out in despair. I cried, she cried, everyone cried. Especially my friend, Al. If you're reading this, Al, don't you dare try to say you didn't cry. You were heaving and twitching, boy. It's so nice to hang out with people from camp because they are so down to Earth, and smart, and nice, and friendly, and understanding, and I'm running out of elementary adjectives.

Yesterday, I went to my friend Emily's house, whom I have been friends with since I was in kindergarten--she is a year younger than me. We've done theatre together since that age, and she is one of my best friends. We played some Broadway dancing game on the Wii, I attempted to jump onto a giant floating lime in her pool, in which I failed, and we played Runescape for the first time in roughly 5 years. I am proud to boast that I still knew where I was going in the game, and the names of the towns. I have a stellar memory, which I pride myself in. I am sounding so narcissistic tonight, my apologies.

Today, I hung out with Natalie. We went to lunch at Chipotle, she helped me complete my challenge for LFA, and then we played with her puppy. She just bought a 6-week-old Yorkie puppy, and I literally squeal incessantly every time I hold it--then he started biting me, so we were in an epic battle of who could control the other. I was taken down by puppy teeth. They're daggers.

This blog actually turned out to be a lot longer than I was anticipating. I need to shower and continue typing these godforsaken notes, and you know, sleep. I am participating in BEDA, so I will be back on Monday.

Until next time, adieu, my loves.

*Well, obviously I haven't applied, but it's my top choice.
**Early for Abby.
*** This is a fictional person. Do not Google. Well. Actually, yes Google. Tell me what you find.
**** I wish I could do superscripts. Asterisks are becoming a nuisance.

Miles ran: 0
AP Euro read: Pg. 136
AP Lit: I will start that assignment, eventually.
Currently reading: A World Lit Only by Fire: The Medieval Mind and the Renaissance: Portrait of an Age by William Mancheste
VOTD: I adore this man.
QOTD: "Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people. -Eleanor Roosevelt
Listening to: Old, but so catchy.
I am adding a "WHAT IS ABBY WIKIPEDIA-ING!!1!!" link, too. Because Wikipedia has always been my answer with my lust for knowledge.
WIAW: Thet are by far the most corrupt family of the ancient Roman era. I LOVE them.

In my dreams, I makeout with Harry Potter

2011-07-21T23:34:00.001-04:00

Remember that one time when I said I was going to blog every Thursday? Yeah, I didn't either until an hour ago.

Hello, blogsphere. I honestly have no inkling as to what is to be blogged about, so this is RAW, and UNCUT. Kinda like my grandmother's toenails. Now that I've made you all barf, let's talk about British men. Everyone knows that a British accent can make a girl swoon faster than Prince Eric's hair bump. The sexy, gravely tone of a British man saying, "'ello m'dear," can cause even the most dignified of women fall into the hormone-laden teenage girl category. What is it about accents that are just so undeniably sexy? I mean, I've always been one to fawn after boys with accents and that are far too old for me (Rupert Grint, Hugh Dancy, Orlando Bloom, Tom Felton, Hugh Laurie. I can honestly go all day) but as I get older and look around at the charming and handsome boys I like to call the savages that walk the soiled halls of my high school, it makes me wonder what makes a British boy far more attractive both physically and accent-ly than the ignoramuses that trudge in my town.

I've compiled it down into several categories. Actually, I haven't. Allow me to rephrase. I will compile several traits that characterize teenage boys and break it down into American vs. British boy.

1. Hair
American: In the northeast and west coast we're dealing with the large and puffy "Bieber Swag" going on. The incessant hair flipping, the shaggy bits hanging in their eyes. They have more hair on their head than they do under their armpits. In the south, midwest, and west we got the "Eastern Front Lawn" being sported. Crew cut, straight across. I cut slice some cheese across their heads' and it would come out perfectly slashed.
British : Tousled softly, usually dark. Sleek and shiny with whisps falling slightly in their eyes when they look down. Usually not a product to be found in their hair, and looks most sexy when just waking up.

2. Interests
American: Football, naked girls, food, underage drinking, naked girls, not doing laundry, Axe body spray= shower, comics, naked girls, boobs, the number of times flatulence has been passed in a room, naked girls' boobs, baseball, Monster energy drinks, wrestling, naked girls, girls, objectifying girls, not reading, ESPN, not bathing for a week, expecting other people to do their work, naked girls. Girls. Naked.
British: Picasso, J.K. Rowling, Shakespeare, walks, blank canvases for painting, playing the piano, learning a new skill, studying to get accepted into a University, tea, Harry Potter, libraries, painting, kittens.

3. Clothing
American: Usually something grimy from last week, such as a shirt from last Tuesday's gym class shoved under their bed next to the half eaten Subway sandwich. Shirts usually have some sport team or if we're dealing with the south, a "Texas Does It Bigger" shirt with a cartoon drawing of a barely clothed female with a larger chest, blazoned across. Their top and bottom never, ever match. Obviously, if it looks as if any time is placed on their appearance, they're deemed gay. God forbid one would look presentable to step out into public. Shoes are either worn to the sole Chuck Taylors, or Timberlands.
British: A fitted T, or a ribbed thermal, possibly matched with a fashion scarf. Hats are always in style, and a classic fedora could top any outfit. A blazer or fitted jacked is worn when going out in the rainy London city bustle. Jeans are dark and fitted, with a pair of boots or NOT worn Chuck Taylors.

4. Views on Education
American: Sleep until noon. Go to school late. Homework? Didn't fail Mrs. Rodriguez Spanish final. Straight Ds. Oh yeahhhh, no Summer school! Reading= the box of their Kraft Mac N' Cheese dinner.
British: Long evening of studying to prepare for an exam. Studying fireside with a book, begrudgingly cursing the intelligence of females (bitches and hoes don't exist, 'cause the hoes know Bo's a feminist). They strive to achieve knowledge because it is the most defining and solidifying aspect a human being requires to function.

5. Music
American: LMFAO, Lil Wayne, Pitbull, Nickelback, Drake, T-Pain, Nicki Minaj (have you seen her boobs?!), Usher, Chris Brown, Bruno Mars
British: Muse, The Beatles, The Black Keys, ADELE, John Lennon, John Mayer, Paul McCartney, MGMT, Mika

In short, British boys are freakin' awesome*. I need my damn acceptance letter to Hogwarts. 6 years late, dear 'ol Hogwarts. Sidebar story: In 5th grade, I had a dream that Harry and I were dating. Harry of the Potter kind, by the way. So, I was dating him, and 5th grade Abby "counted" every single time he kissed me. I kid you not, one time a girl was sitting at a table, crying over her dead rabbit that was killed by a fox, and dear old 10-year-old Abby patted her on the back and BOOM. Making out with the Boy Who Lived. God. If only. If I had a hot British boy makeout with me every single time a dead animal was mentioned, I'd live at kennels. Ouch. That was harsh. I love animals. I DO. I swear. That was uncalled for. Aaaah. Okay. I do believe sleep is required. 2 college tours tomorrow. I'm intrepid about college now, though; aforementioned reasoning why so. If you do not recall, the answer is camp.

Until next Thursday, snuggly hugs, blog readers.
I'm never saying that again. Ever. If I do, drop a piano on me.

* Obviously this is the most stereotypical thing I've ever written. Do not take callow assumption to heart.

Miles ran: 0
AP Euro read: Pg. 125
AP Lit: I found out I only have to read THREE books, not SIX. My life is great.
Currently reading: A World Lit Only by Fire: The Medieval Mind and the Renaissance: Portrait of an Age by William Mancheste
VOTD: Music mashup that is just absolutely stunning
QOTD: Dad: "I really liked Mount Union. A lot. It was perfect
             Abby: "Okay, yeah, but my major is not concrete there."
             Mom: "I think your dad wants to go there."
             Dad: "Pack my bags. I'm going back to college."
Listening to: this

Remember that one time at leadership camp?

2011-07-19T21:48:00.002-04:00

HALLO.

This blog post has been a constant process of drafting in my head since July 3rd. Originally, I had planned to blog about the week of URL turned IRL, but I feel that seeing as it is 2 weeks later, and it had been properly documented on Facebook, Twitter, blogTV, Tumblr, and Dailybooth, an entire blog on the girls' trip here would ultimately be beating a dead horse.

But, I feel like I need to recap my life, if not for the 3 people who read this, but for myself. I've had the most eventful two weeks of my life, that my head is still spinning trying to take it all in as I sit at my dining room table, loaded with vanilla ice cream drizzled with Nutella* (Unf. Food.)

Sunday, July 3rd was the Cleveland ConTour concert**. In short, it was freakin' awesome. I met Alexa, Izzy, Gwen, Laney, Cecilia, and Mike for the FIRST TIME EVER. The lovely Laney*** made a video on her collab channel, and then a magical montage**** on her main channel depicting the night perfectly and as always, flawlessly (you should subscribe to her, because she's a wonderful human being.) Alexa, Izzy, and Gwen spent a week at my house and we did lots of fun things, but Tuesday was our second ConTour show, and we turned into roadies, having to unload equipment and I had to sell merch. We were also badass dancers. Alex Carpenter said so. My week was a whirlwind of constantly doing something, and it was a strange feeling having them right there, instead of having to use some sort of technology device to communicate.

Saying goodbye was insanely hard. I was so emotional as it was that morning, for the night before we had stayed up until 6:30 AM doing nothing but climbing on furniture, laughing at everything, and starting non-profit charities. But I survived, and the next morning, I left for my camp.

Aaaaand now here's the bulk of the blog. WELCOME.

I went to leadership camp. Yes, it sounds dumb, it sounds nerdy, it sounds like probably the most boring week a 17-year-old, senior year bound teenager could endure. Well, those were my initial thoughts too. However, if there is a mark for the most life-altering moment thus far, it was, undoubtedly, my RYLA experience. The camp was Rotary based--what rotary is, in layman's terms, is a bunch of people that do community service. I went to this camp on a scholarship through them. Going into this camp, I only knew Kelsey. I was completely unaware of the people I would be meeting, the activities I would be partaking in, and even the college to which I stayed on for a week. In retrospect, obviously things aren't going to be presented to me of how a week is going to run which I have a tendency to assume, but nevertheless, I didn't know anything. In a poetic sense, I felt like I was standing on a cliff. Allow me to further my always irrelevant, tortured poet side of things. I went to this camp not necessarily for physical self, but for my mental state, as well as to the aplomb of my parents. They knew I needed a break from the Internet, as did I, somewhere deep down, masked by the liar in front of me. I was constantly annoyed with my parents because I was always on the computer, and when they'd try to talk to me while I was on the computer, as we all tend to do at times, I would snap at them. But that snapping was consistent and never ending. However, what was a strange, strange side of things, was the fact that the week prior to my camp was solely Internet based. I was with people from the Internet, talking about stuff from the Internet, doing things for the Internet. Then the next week, I'm stripped of all Internet for an entire week and had barely time to breathe, let alone communicate with said Internet friends (AN: Reading that sentence makes me sound like I was in prison. Keep reading, I promise it wasn't prison. I'm melodramatic. Haters gonna hate.) But, what I think my counselors don't really know or even expect, was how they kept me off the computer, and in doing so, they actually made a huge impact on my life.

I'm not going to go into to detail of every single day of the camp, because A. That's the most torpid task ever, and B. All the days run together, so this is ULTIMATE CAMP RECAP. First day was the day we met each other. Fun games ensued of learning about each other. "Hello, my name is Abby. I am 17 and go to *insert Abby's school name here* and I like Harry Potter" was the most hackneyed sentence that I ever uttered in my life. It was so easy to talk to everyone. They're a bunch of Abbys for the most part. Outgoing, talkative, easy to hold conversation with. They all just had a drive in them. I learned, as my friendships built up through the week, everyone has a raw essence in them that defines them as people. I saw them as someone with a story, a mission in life, and not a simple teenager that likes whatever band that you like too. It's insane thinking about how much we exposed to each other--myself to them, and them to me. I opened up about my Internet life--a "double" life as they coined it. No one IRL knows the entirety of my Internet life that lies outside URL. Only Kelsey. But, I did it. On Wednesday, 4 days after meeting 24 strangers, I opened up to them. I told them everything. I explained Nerdfighteria, blogTV, Mike, the Skype chat, the girls' trip. Everything. Granted, Nerdfighter friend Amber understands Nerdfighteria, but more on her later. I was very hesitant on telling them. Not necessarily because of the fact that they wouldn't accept it, or understand it like most IRL people have reacted, but all the other stories were heartbreaking. And by stories, I failed to mention that we had a group discussion on something that changed our lives. We were split into 3 discussion groups, each counselor assigned to a small coalition of us, and we talked about very personal and intimate things most people wouldn't talk about to a larger group. However, on Wednesday, we had a group Group Discussion and had to talk to the entire camp. Now, being one with absolutely no issues of talking in front of people, I was confident that I would be able to present at least a cohesive presentation, but I felt guilty presenting it. So many people my age have gone through so much more than I have, and thinking about this blog, and how I complain and take the smallest of things for granted, makes me feel like a terrible person. Something hit me that day, and though I can't really point out a certain point when, it still has a hold on me. I learned to appreciate everything around me. The people, the places, my belongings.You never know when one day, it just might go away. I think seeing this outlook on life inspired me. I'm not really sure what that even means, to be honest. Inspiration is defined as, "The process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative." But it isn't inspiration to do something. It's inspiration to just live, which, I guess is something, but that is besides the point. I learned to not get caught up in silly nominal things but to actually live my life and to not take those silly things for granted. That jealously, frustration, pain from a few weeks ago, yeah, it's partially still there, but I'm not going to let negative emotions run my life. The people I met that week are by far the strongest and most inspiring people I have ever met. They're my age and they've overcame obstacles so many adults wouldn't even be able to handle. I look up to them for that (and also I was also the shortest camper there. Well, one girl was the same height as me.)

Moooving on, I don't want to dwell on the sappy sentimental aspect for very long, because I'm too facetious. In short, camp was bad ass. Yeah, we had to sit through plenty of seminars and speakers, but most were interesting and taught a lot. However, it was the free time and meals that really made this camp. As I previously said before, all these people are just lively. They're so fun and could keep up with a joke. One girl I quickly (and by quickly, I do mean quickly) befriended was a girl by the name of Amber. When I arrived to the camp, I knew the ConTour dancing video was up, and me being the impatient, petulant child I am, I needed to see it immedietly. So, I got on Kelsey's phone to watch it, and as I was navigating her phone, she said to Amber for sake of conversation, "Do you know who Mike Lombardo is?" When Amber opened her mouth next, the words which she uttered was not conseivable for my young mind. "Yeah, I know who he is." I kid you not, I snapped my head up so fast, I thought I broke a vertebrae. I stared intently at her, and very slowly I said, "Wait. Mike Lombardo. The Internet musician. You know who he is?"
"Yeah."
At this point, I was trying so hard to not scream and/or piss myself, so I did my next choice. I stood up on Kelsey's bed and screamed, and I literally mean screamed, "ARE YOU A NERDFIGHTER?"
"Yeah!"
"Nonononononono. Like, John and Hank. Green. Books. Vlog?"
"Yeah, I'm a nerdfighter."
I couldn't take it anymore, so I legitimately pounced on top of her while shrieking incomprehensible words mid-flight. I was kind of like clutching her face while screaming into it, again, words I didn't even understand, so my parents, still milling around in the hallway, came in because, in all honesty, it sounded as if Jack Torrance was in the room. When they asked what's wrong, my answer was along the lines of, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. Mike!! ThisAmberHi, vlog! Nerdfiiiiiiiiiighter. Internet! Ah Ah Ah Ah! Fan! Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike!" Kelsey, being the beautiful friend she is, calmly said to my parents,
"Amber and Abby have a mutual liking of Mike and Nerdfighteria."
So, yeah. That was pretty awesome. Oh, and just when I thought she wasn't awesome enough SHE LOVES DARREN CRISS. Oh, oh! And not just Darren. She's a Starkid fan. If there was a time to pee from sheer excitement, it was that moment, all over Kelsey's bed. I later found out she performed "Goin' Back to Hogwarts" to raise money for her school's musical, where she played Harry. Yeah. She does theatre. If you cannot honestly see the similarities between her and I, you must not know 'bout me, you must not know 'bout me.
But, yeaaaaaaah. Back on track, the people. Cool. Very cool. And aforementioned item being food; EW. It was the nastiest food I have ever had to place into my mouth and consume for the sake of not dying. So we ate cereal and ice cream. No, I'm serious. Roughly 2/3 meals a day for me were either a bowl of Cap'n Crunch or a bowl of ice cream. We wrote a song about it for our final show. (Music written by yours truly.)

Free time was absolutely wonderful. In a sense, I felt 5 again for the amount of which I ran when being not directed by a coach of some sort. Friday, the last day of camp, we had to throw together our final show. Everyone was in a mild sense of panic due to the very, very little time we had to prepare. I ran from my dorm to the the main hall where we were situated all week, and were preparing the show, a total of 6 times in the span of two hours. It was worth it though. Everyone did a lovely job, and Amber and I crafted a secret video which is below. Out of everyone in the camp, 3 people aside from Amber and I knew what the video would contain; candid shots of everyone in the camp, acted out by Florence and Agnes: the two querulous elderly women, birthed by the inane boredom of Abby and Amber on a break.

Amber and I were also asked to do a Harry Potter skit, because by the end of the camp everyone knew we were Harry Potter fans. That obviously has nothing to do with the fact that we made paper wands and had duels. Nope. But here is Amber and me doing a completely improvised (aside from a few minor things) skit, aided by our two other lovely Harry Potter friends. Acted out by Florence and Agnes, of course.

(I hope you're prepared for a myriad of videos.)

Every night after dinner, things were much more relaxed. We had "team building" exercises we had to partake in, and every single night they were insanely fun. One night an army man came in, and we had to play games that caused us to work as a team, one being a giant "spider net" in which we had to carry people (if necessary) over to the other side without touching the net. Not as easy as it sounds. Not that it sounds easy. Actually, it doesn't sound like anything because I suck at explaining things. Anyways, another night was a game where we had 13 minutes to run to our dorms, throw as many personal items as we can into our pillow cases and run back to the square. We were placed in our 3 discussion groups and the one counselor would read off imprudent things like, a RYLA tattoo, or a signature of a counselor, or a toothpaste mustache (guess who won that for her team?) One member from each team had to walk to the table and whomever completed/showed the task first, won 2 points for their team. Guess who won "best burp" for her team? Daddy teaches his baby girl something. Another night was movie night...where no one watched the movie. Another night was game show night where we played a series of The Newlywed Game, followed by Jeopardy, followed by Family Feud. Amber and I chose to be the couple on The Newlywed Game. Out of 10 questions, we got 2 wrong. We knew each other 3 days prior to that game. I don't lie when I say we're the same person. The best night, though, personally, was karaoke night. We all know that, due to many people's desperation, I sing. A lot. Obnoxiously. Loudly. Irritably. This was the perfect night for me. Not the mention that day I had 7 glasses of Mountain Dew. I was pumped.
Florence and Agnes sang a song.

Kelsey, Amber, and I sang a song.

I sang an actual song without being stupid (which was very hard to calm down to actually sing, mind you.)

And I danced.

and danced some more.

So yeah. That night was awesome. Really, really awesome. But what wasn't awesome was when Abby had a mental breakdown/sugar crash when she couldn't go see the Harry Potter premiere. I literally crawled up to my dorm room (luckily curfew was pushed until 11:30) and I couldn't sit still. I moaned and whined and complained and acted like a 10-year-old because I couldn't go. I tied my Gryffindor beach towel around my neck, already had a Harry Potter shirt on, flailed my flimsy paper wand, and clutched Deathly Hallows to my chest, protecting it like a fresh bag of Peach Rings. Here's a low point of the evening where I laid like this for roughly 10 minutes sobbing Mountain Dew laden tears over a boy wizard:

An actual quote from that evening: "I'm so sad. I need to go pee. I hope I pee out Harry Potter. Or his wand. Or a lightning bolt. Wingardium leviopee."

Yeah, but what was insanely awesome is that, even though I was by far the most annoying person that evening, the people there didn't say anything negative to me. Yeah they laughed at me, but they joked around with me too. I think that, even though I was acting stupid, they knew how much I actually hurt, and they are people who don't say things of hate towards people.

Which brings me to a legitimate, concrete point for a blog. I learned not to be rude, in basic form. I realized that words I say, and things I say about people are rude and unjust. Just because people are different and weird, doesn't mean they deserve to be bad-mouthed behind their backs. The things I ~~say~~ said about people, I would never say to their faces. In short, I grew up. I felt mature to begin with, leading into this camp, but I feel much older now. I feel wiser, more prepared, a better understanding of life. The steering wheel of life is placed in my hands, and going into my senior year of high school, that has a metaphorical sense ringing in it. My life is just beginning at the end. My childhood life is over. I'm almost an adult. Things are going to be placed in my hands. It's my choice what I do with it. I can build my way up, or spiral to a dark abysmal void. No one can choose the path, but me. My life isn't over-- on the contrary. It's just beginning.

I open at the close.

Oooo, deep Abby is deep.
What I failed to mention up there, is my Internet access is also going to be cut back. College crunch time, folks. No more 3 hours long Skype calls. When I'm motivated, I jump on it, because trust me, it doesn't last for long.
Miles ran: 0
AP Euro read: Pg. 75
AP Lit: I should really start on that...
Currently reading: A World Lit Only by Fire: The Medieval Mind and the Renaissance: Portrait of an Age by William Mancheste
VOTD: This is just beautifully crafted.
QOTD: Alexa: Do you see it?
             Gwen: No, my comment is first!
             Alexa: Did you scroll down?
             Gwen: ...Oh. Oh, Internet friends.
Listening to: this

* I started this blog at 7:10 PM on 7/17/11. I am finishing this blog at 9:47 on 7/19/11. LOL
**,***,**** BOOM. Old school alliterative Abby!

Pepperoni Rolls are my spirit food

2011-06-30T22:08:00.002-04:00

I have consumed 3 bottles of Sunny D, a bowl of rice, 2 slices of bread with Nutella and 2 pepperoni rolls today, and I want MORE.

Hello, blog. It's Thursday. Choosing to actually want to blog and have a consistent date to post it can be both something to look forward to, and something to groan about. Like I just did, before Gwen asked me to update. The looking forward part is, I guess, my way of just writing. Which, obviously that's what a blog is--writing. Ignoramus statement aside, blogging, I feel, has grown on me, and granted many blogs on here are as callow as my father would be in a spelling contest, it's still, for lack of a better emotion, a rewarding feeling. The negative side of blogging is the fact that when you actually have scheduled dates, you can't really plan if you have something to say. Which is why I'm fearing BEDA this upcoming August, because in absolute reality, I'm one of the most boring and unproductive people I know. In retrospect, I'm really not as lazy as one would assume by my constant tweeting of extremely irrelevant and extraneous things that go through the mind of a crazed, suburban-trapped, teenager.

Well, the things I DID accomplish today were actually pretty monumental in my book, because they involved the sacred art of getting out of bed. It's a rare and complicated art form, that many Internet-bound teenagers suffer to accomplish everyday of their young lives. HOWEVER, I am the heroine in this situation and PROVED to the Gods of Torpor that getting out of bed before noon and actually accomplishing goals, IS plausible for teens all across the world. Together, we can fight the power of laziness--tomorrow!

My mother had laid out a list of things I need to accomplish before she gets home from work, last evening. She's one of those people that thinks by placing a slip of paper on a desk, it's the ultimate threat. Don't say anything. Just place the paper down, give a nonchalant glance, and leave. *shudder* I'm quivering in my boots, Batman! So, after pulling myself out of bed this morning at the god awful hour of 10:00 AM, I drifted sleepily to my desk and looked at the list of threat. Lucky for me all I had to do was run the vacuum on two flights of stairs and then unload the dishwasher. Oh, and do AP. 'Cause that was totally going to happen. I'm such a sweetheart and completed all those goals before she got home at 3 PM. Obviously unloading the dishwasher and vacuuming takes 5 hours. Seriously though. Whenever I clean, is it weird that I pretend I'm Amelia Bedelia? She was such a martyr. And hysterical. If I ever had a cleaning lady, I'd call Amelia right up. She'd be my first call. Second to Bob the Butler. On the Sims, I always hire a cleaning person. Bitch, pleaaase. You think my Sims are going to clean? I pull out motherlode a few 20 clicks, and I got my Sims living the good 'ol life.

Woah. I went from Amelia Bedlia to the Sims. Normal.

Do you know what sounds really good? This. I literally could live off of that. Actually, my friend Cecilia and I plotted out an entire kingdom in Texas, with all royalty necessities (i.e. Capes, crowns, thrones) based solely off of food. Our thrones would be made out of cookie dough. UNF. I have such an unhealthy addiction to food. I NEED IT ALL. I'm such a fat ass.

In other news, I'm meeting my Internet friends on Sunday. I can't even wrap my head around this glorious news. Although, the only people reading this are probably the ones I'm meeting, so HAI GURLZ HAI.I'm just so auhfaifoakgoafhoagnhaolg. This made me even more excited because I want to dance. I want to dance so bad. So, Sunday shall be interesting.

OH, before I forget, I'd like to address some things dealing with the teenage boys of the high school age and their views on ideals of joking/ sexually interrogating. So, say you have a friend, right? He is male. And this friend is really close to you. And you've been really close to this friend for a very long time, and even your parents are friends. Well, this friend is like your brother. But then your friend decides it's a BRILLIANT idea to add yet another sport to his growing archive, and joins the football team. When all of a sudden, boom. Completely different person. Now your friend drank all through his junior year of high school, experimented with drugs both legal and non, (and, I know this is a 'common' thing to do at 'his' age, but it is crucial for the 'friend's' story line) used his ex-girlfriend for sexual endeavors and used many more in his foul and disgusting journey closer to achieving the ideals of misogyny. Flash back to present-day. You're sitting in your room, when your friend texts you and asks you out. Completely out of nowhere, unannounced. So, you're obviously dumfounded because you have no feelings for him, nor will you ever, except strictly platonically. Then you're friend leads into the idea of just 'fooling' around. So, then you become protective and begin drilling him, and oh wait. He was kidding. Right, of course. Kidding. Silly you, of course he's kidding, because it's not like every other dim-witted male in your school talks to you like that EVEN THOUGH YOU NEVER RESPOND BACK. You just can't understand why they constantly objectify you when you do nothing to recieve back comments of such degree. Every piece of your body is always fully clothed, and clothes are far from revealing. It's foul, it's disgusting and you get to a point where you just hate all boys in the entire world and you can't wait to finally meet a mature guy that will treat you right, laugh at your jokes, and be nice and kind and caring and NOT A DOUCHE.

Don't you just HATE when that happens!?

Okay, well. I'm going to go take a shower and what not. And before you ask, yes, I'm okay. It's you I'm worried about. What an awful friend of yours!

It was nice talking to you, blog.

Miles ran: 0. Pulled muscle in hip. :/ Running on stand-by until further notice.
AP Euro read: Pg.53
AP Lit: N/A
Currently reading: Second Helpings by Megan McCafferty
VOTD: I can't even.
QOTD: "I. AM. THOR."
Listening to: this.

Hi.

2011-06-22T14:17:00.001-04:00

Hola.
Bonjour.
Howdy.

Okay. So, I've decided I'm done being stupid and obnoxious and melodramatic and constantly feeling like my life is spiraling towards impending doom, because it's stupid.

Yesterday, I decided that I'm going to try to make the 17th year of my life the best I possibly can. As I was running this morning, I pondered it further and reached the conclusion I'm a whiny bitch--and I'd like that to change.

For some reason, I complain. And when I say I complain, I mean, I complain in heaps and heaps at a time. Granted, the obnoxious cacophony is necessary if something is of utter importance, but majority of the time it is just that--obnoxious cacophony. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and keeping things bottled up isn't necessarily my finesse. When I'm annoyed, people know I'm annoyed. When I'm mad, you know I'm mad. Happy, sad, frustrated, embarrassed, shocked-- you will know, because I will tell you. That's how I am. But due to that, I tend to have some whacked out emotional turmoil constantly bubbling and spilling over, that is insanely draining, mentally and emotionally.

So, in order to get my self straightened out and not annoy the entire world with my incessant rambling, THINGS ARE GONNA CHANGE.

This blog is going to get its use, as well. It's going to be my way of keeping up with myself, and not wasting my summer sitting all day on Tumblr. Though, I mean, that's a lovely thing to do, but I need to not succumb to the reblog button. I'm a Tumblr surviver. Being addicted is scary; there's help.

In order to celebrate healthily the death of Bitch Abby, I've concocted a list (well, I've yet to actually concoct it) of things that make me happy.

In no particular order;

1.Silent Film Music
2. Cool piano medleys
3. Stupid, yet hilarious Flash sites
4. Reading strangers' notes
5. This man
6. Sims music
7. Vera
8. Re-reading about nights of hilarity
9. The weather
10. Songs that depict my life
11. Videos that start new catchphrases
12. Re-watching old YouTubers and falling back in love
13. The tweets of an old man
14. Being a grammar nerd
15. This. Just always.
16. Perusing this website
17. My new-found love of The Office
18. When Hank Green seems drunk
19. Saturday Night Live
20. These beautiful girls always

So, sipping my tea and going through those, has put me in a brilliant mood.
Such a good mood, that I'm going to attempt to read my AP European book, that I will be sure to monitor here. I'll probably post things that I need to keep track of on here, just so I know I'm not a failure...to an extent.

THE BITCH HAS BEEN KILLED! Ding dong, the bitch is dead! Which old bitch? The Abby bitch!

Here's where I'm going to keep track of things I need to keep track of:
Miles ran: 3
AP Euro read: ...none, YET.
AP Lit: Haven't even started
Currently reading: Second Helpings by Megan McCafferty
VOTD: this. Because it's so damn cute.
QOTD: I told Gwen to hold her horses. This is her response: "ARE THEY RUNNING AWAY? DO I HAVE TO CATCH THEM? I'm not that strong. Nor a good runner. Things might not end so well."
Listening to: this.

(random, not necessary sidebar: I need to read 6 books for AP Lit and keep a journal, 2 books for AP Euro, taking notes, and then keep a timeline, and since I'm not going to cross country camp because I'm badass, I'm running on my own and need to write down what I've ran. This has been a run-on sentence.)

Being a teenager sucks.

2011-06-19T21:27:00.010-04:00

I just typed out half of a blog post about how I'm in the shittiest mood ever, and how I have mood swings, and lately I've been ridiculously moody and depressed--but then my best friend Natalie IMed me and I vented to her, AND NOW I'M HAPPY...well, happier.
Plus, we made a date to hang out tomorrow, and I am very, very excited because I love her very, very much.

This is Natalie and me bored at a concert--for irrelevant reference.

SO, I'm going to blog/rant about teenage emotions, because what else does Abby do better than ranting? NOTHING.

What irritates me to levels of maddening proportions, is the fact that I try to overcome the petty emotions and hormones that are fired at me, and prevail over the shoddy archetype of teenager angst, but I CAN'T. I try to be mature. I try to be responsible and organized, but everything becomes muddled and murky inside. Emotions run rampant and majority of the time, they're negative ones.

But the thing is, I don't really have that hard of a life. Actually, I have a brilliant life. I have an IRL best friend that I adore, and Internet best friends that are absolutely wonderful. My parents are lovely people* and I have a nice home, in a nice neighborhood** (I just tried using subscript numbers and they messed up my typing, so I resorted to asterisks) and I am only child. So, when I rant uncontrollably, it makes me feel even worse than I already feel because I then feel ungrateful and selfish and all those other emotions inbetween.

I've thought about maybe mild depression, or some type of mood issue, because two years ago in my sophomore year, (wow. That felt really weird typing that.) I had possibly the worst year in my life. I fought with my friends almost everyday over stupid, and immature things, I tried waaaaaaay too hard to get a guy to like me and I thought that worked, until it complete backfired on me and I lost people very close to me--I tried too hard. Thinking back on my 15-year-old self and how...dumb (for lack of a better term) I was, is extremely humoring to the "present" Abby. The things the 15-year-old me found so monumentally devastating, is extremely subordinate to me now. I believe in the past 6 months, I've grown as a person. I've realized that in one year, I'm graduating high school. In one year, I'll be going to college, opening a new chapter in my life. In one year, I'll be a legal adult. Typing this so close to my birthday, gives me some type of...anxiety, possibly? I'm scared. I'm scared what the future is going to bring. I'm obviously excited, but I don't know where I'm going to go. Am I going to have a job when I'm older? A husband? A family? A house? See. Now I'm getting ahead of myself, which is what I do--what people don't understand. When I say I think too much, I mean it wholeheartedly. I literally sit and think. Think about things people have told me, actions they've done, how they act towards me, how they act towards others. Do their actions cross? Did I do something wrong? It's what I've been doing for years. It's why I was weird in school--why I didn't have a lot of friends. I mean, granted, I'm still weird, that's a given. And I do have friends. I'm friends with my entire grade, but I don't think I'm "accepted." But in absolute honesty, I have little to no care for what peers think of me anymore. It's you guys-- my Internet friends. You're all so accepting and welcoming. I've known you all for only 6 months, but within those 6 months, I've become a completely different person. My eyes have been opened to new experiences, new likes, dislikes and so much more. But it still hasn't erased completely what I've been fighting for so much longer.

I have a knack for remembering things. I can recite conversations I had from months ago verbatim. I remember dates, stories, names, everything phenomenally. Which I will accredit to being involved in acting at such a young age, but it's killing me now. The reason why, is because I feel that I remember things that the other person doesn't. The thing with me, is I feel like people are only friends with me because...well, I don't know why. I feel like they're constantly judging me. Which is stupid, I know, because "they can say the same thing about you." I know, I get it. People have tried to tell me that before, but I'm stubborn. In the past, relationships have fallen because we've "lost contact" with each other. (If you're even still reading, have you noticed a trend? Yeah, I can't let things go; "in the past" is a common phrase out of my mouth.) So, when I don't talk to people I care about at least once I day, I get terrified that our friendship is going to slip. So, I try to constantly be in contact with people, but that makes me annoying. Which is why boys don't like me. Not that I care, but I mean, I've never had a boyfriend. I've never kissed a guy. Does that upset me? No, not really. But I feel like...a failure? I wouldn't say failure, but...I don't know. Am I not a teenager because so? I feel like since I'm not like "the common teen," I'm missing something pivotal in my life. I've never had a boyfriend because I'm batshit crazy--in layman's terms. But I would not date any male at my school, because they're foul, repulsive, daft wastes of human life that will objectify you and your body faster than you can say misogyny. But still. I don't want to pull out the stereotypical teenage "I'm complicated." card because, that's stupid. But, it's true.

Another thing, I tend to rant--HA, shocker, right? But, no one listens to me. When I try to explain things to my parents, the response every single time is, "School is the most important thing you do in your life. Focus on that." But I can't. I know, school is important; but, it's not the only thing on my mind. I get straight A's and my parents aren't necessarily content. Every test, homework assignment, project is scrutinized in absolute detail and I'm reprimanded if anything falls under the A radar. I'm third in my class, and my parents eyes are set on the Valedictorian title--which, is not going to happen. So, my only outlet is the Internet. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry to all of you that I've ranted to before. This blog, which my original goal was to have as something to just toy around with, preparing for my writing career, has slowly turned into the place where I just rant. The past 4 blogs I've written have been so petulant and querulous, but it's nights like these where I just can't take the emotions building up in me. They come in waves, and this type of night is the apex, and my breaking point. Twitter is another outlet. I don't necessarily think about what I tweet--which, in retrospect, is probably not the best of ideas, but I don't. It's unedited. It's raw. I don't think twice. When you log onto Twitter, your status bar says, "What's happening?" I take that sentence to absolute heart. Which surprises me that people even follow me. And now I'm sounding like I'm rolling in self-pity and disgust--which is not the case. I like who I am. I don't like emotions.

But, now, where does that leave me? I'm confused. I'm scared. I'm an ultimate mess. But I try not to let anyone see that. My parents don't know that I'm...depressed? I don't know what I am. If they see any change in me at all, they'll blame the computer and I'll lose my laptop, iPod, phone, everything. I can't lose the Internet. Remarkably, it's the only thing keeping me sane. But I just don't know what's wrong with me. I guess I could say I'm just a teenager, but I don't know. I don't want to always be jealous of people. I don't want to be constantly feeling the need to be heard and impress others. Now, the latter is back to the whole parents thing. I know I make them sound out to be horrible people. They're not, I assure you. They're lovely. But they still believe I am 11-years-old and I need to be monitored and it's so very frustrating. I just want to be happy again. Which is funny, because meeting my Internet friends made me the happiest I've ever been in my life, but I let my mind run loose too often. I need to stop thinking. I just want simplicity. But what is simplicity even? If things were always simple, life would be so much easier. I just hope you (whoever you are, if you're reading) can partially see my way of things. I don't mean this to sound ostentatious, but I just don't know anymore, guys. I'm scared and losing it slowly.

I may be abstract, but it's not what I want my life to follow suit with.

*- Most of the time. When they're understanding.
**- Except I hate everyone in it.

If you've ever had experience with depression, feel free to explain what you felt, because I just want to know if I'm okay--because I don't know.

Losing control.

2011-06-01T00:50:00.003-04:00

This is emotional Abby back again blogging because Alexa says I should because it has a therapeutic effect on my brain.

I honestly don't expect anyone to read this, but I mean, if you want to read about the stress and angst of a 16-year-old teenage girl, by all means continue down. Nothing is thought out everything is just going to be a blur of emotional cacophony.

Lately, I've been stressed. Actually, let me rephrase. This entire year I've been stressed, to the point of breaking many times. I know that sounds melodramatic and not needed for a "teenage girl" but I don't think anyone really understands. I'm constantly trying to impress my parents with my grades. I'm constantly trying to hold onto friendships that are slipping through the cracks. I'm constantly trying to make my school happy by remaining number 3 in my class. I'm constantly trying to fight the darkness that's swelling in me. And if that latter wasn't the epitome of a tortured poet, I don't know what is. I'm always trying to put on the pretense of a happy-go-lucky girl who can handle the most daunting of tasks thrown at her. I try to remain giddy, humorous and sarcastic to hide my emotions. I don't like being exposed. I don't like feeling vulnerable. I'm headstrong and I don't like to feel susceptible to anything. Not even emotions. Obviously, emotions can't be battled with, but yet I try to mask them with blunt and unrefined thoughts. I think too much, therefore, there's constantly millions of tiny thoughts rushing through my head that I have little time to actually process an eloquent thought, aside from this blog. I take out my angst and frustration on Twitter and people on Skype who probably don't care. I vent to get things out (I've realized this is an extenuation of topic #5 on my last blog, and I apologize.) I just don't know what to do anymore. Everything I've once known has been completely altered and changed. I'm always at a battle with myself over everything. Appearance, weight, intelligence, talents. Anything and everything. I used to be extremely confident, but those days come and go, tending to be more evanescent than anything. I try to impress people. Not necessarily peers at school, but adults and others of the same spectrum. I don't know why, but I feel like I need to showcase myself that I'm not a typical teenager. I'm more mature, more refined. I can carry a conversation without the barbaric slang tossed in. I can discuss current events that aren't related to a Northeast state where everyone is orange. I try too hard. I just want to be normal again. I just want to be happy. I need Junior year to end. It's what brought this all along. And I'm sorry for the typos in this, this is unedited and will remain that way. Maybe I won't even post this. Maybe. Maybe I need to stop doubting myself. Maybe I need to trust myself more. But I can't. I'm constantly held back by a force I can't fight, i.e. My parents. College is terrifying, and I'm not even there yet. My parents aren't letting me go to the schools that I want to go to. I want a big school. I want diversity. I want to leave my little shoddy town and get out into a bigger world. I want to be confused. I want to be lost. I want something different. I need out. I'm being trapped. I can't do anything. No matter what I do, I'm shot down. I can't grow, I can't express who I am. Yes, my parents are lovely, and give me everything I ask and then some. I love them more than anything. But yet, they don't see the barriers they're holding out to me. I'm jumping hurdles and I seem to constantly trip on one. Everyday we fight. They're trying to protect me and in which, they're sinking me. I'm constantly watched, I have no privacy. They barge into every aspect of my life, leaving me very little freedom both normally and artistically. They don't understand that I am 16. Of course the stereotypical, "I swear, I'm older now; I don't need you," sentence comes out of my mouth. But it's true. My parents should believe in their upbringings that I am a mature enough human being to make my own choices and thoughts to be productive and successful. I don't know why they're doubting themselves. They tell me I won't be able to handle a big school. I know I can. I can handle a lot more than what people give me credit for. People doubt me. They don't give me credit for what I believe myself to be. Internet friends, not so much. Most are lovely. However, my peers can't see past the faux innocent nerd they see. If only they knew how much my sarcasm was frank. I can't stand my school. I can't stand the ignorant and asinine things that come out their mouths. They don't know anything. They're so fixated on the ideology that after high school, it's time to live. They throw their lives away, and then mock me for not participating in activities related to alcohol and sexual jaunts. I respect myself. I'm not going to throw it all away from senseless "fun." But yet, I'm jeered at for being "nerdy." No, being a nerd is not a bad thing in any way shape or form, but no one understands me. It's so hard going to a place with hundreds of kids without one fully understanding you. No one looks deeper than exterior. They're blind. They're all blind. Which is why I retreat to the Internet. I can express myself freely, mostly in text form, without fear. People are accepting on the Internet. I've formed some of the greatest friendships on the Internet. But yet, I fear it's going to break me. The thing I'm closest to the most, will break me. I'm scared of becoming to immersed in this online world, that I'm going to lose my sense of humanity. Again, tortured poet phrase. My parents told me I've changed and at one point they threatened to take me to counseling. Yes, I have changed. Personally, I believe for the better. I'm a completely different person than I was 6 months ago. Absolutely different. I'm more mature, wildly more aware of current events, pop culture and sub cultures are more prevalent than ever, and I've grown as a person. I've began rethinking my religious aspects, as well. Which, is even more terrifying because there is absolutely no way I can tell either of my parents that. The schools they want to send me to are Catholic schools--well, religious, not straight Catholic. I went to a Catholic school k-6. I can't go back. But they don't understand. My mother told me on Friday to grow up and start acting like an adult because I want to go out of state for college and we "can't afford it." Which is a lie, because we can. I know we can. I just wish they will stop turning a blind eye to my outcries of need, and actually take into consideration what I want. What I need. I'm tired of being treated like an object. I'm a person. I have emotions. Emotions that are running completely rampant. Everything seems to be just shattering before me, and I don't know what I can do to mend it. Constantly I'm doubting myself as a person. I feel...I don't know. Confused. Lost. Needy. And I take all of those emotions and dump them on people because I just don't know what else to do. I don't know where else to turn to. I'm losing control very slowly. I need summer. I need to get out of school. I need to stop worrying. And absolute most of all I need to regain my life back. I just need security. I need things to fall into the right place. I need to overcome emotions that shouldn't be felt. I need to stop feeling so insecure. I need to stop constantly questioning peoples motives. I just need a break from my mind. The mind is an accepting place only when one accepts it.

I'm fear I'm borderline nervous breakdown.

Tendencies

2011-05-28T02:43:00.004-04:00

I am self-obsessive. Not in the ohmigod-is-my-hair-okay-I-need-to-look-hot obsessive. In the constant-observation-of-things-I do-and-why-I-do-them obsessive. I don't really know or understand this concept, nor do I think I can explain it without you attempting to vicariously feel what I'm saying. What I'm trying to say is, I tend to make small mental notes of things and habits and do and try to figure out why I'm doing them. You pickin' up what I'm throwin' down, amigo? No? Well, neither do I. Sort of. Allow me to present an example: As I was walking home from school the other day, my best friend Natalie noticed my unwieldy carrying of three bags and asked why I didn't move a bag to my other shoulder (they were hanging off of my right shoulder.) Whenever she asked me this, I clumsily moved a bag to my left shoulder and kept walking. And then started slowing down. And then stopped, moved the bag back to my right shoulder, and continued walking. I can't carry things on my left shoulder. Why? I have no idea. I pondered this as I ventured through the side streets by myself, dodging zooming angry bugs with eyes set to kill me, and scary men in obtuse vans (I'm not joking. They're always roaming around.) I attempted the switching again. Again, I had to stop and change everything back on my right shoulder, which left me walking with an old man without capable knees type of gimp, leaning to left side, and waddling home. But then, the whole "Right Arm Bias" situation made me realize that I am a complete freak of nature and do things that are, A. Not only extremely distinctive, but also B. All around odd. I present you,

The List of Things Abby Does That Are Weird (abridged):

1. Hair Flips:
If you are on relatively good friendship terms with me, you have either witnessed an infamous Abby Hairflip or I have mentioned them to you. I have a lot of hair. And when I say a lot of hair, I mean a lot of hair...for my petite stature. With the fact that I have a lot of hair, you can bet your golden goose eggs that it is also very heavy. So, to deal with the crushing weight that is my hair located on my scalp, I simply toss my head over and back up, flipping my hair and lightening the load...of hair. The only thing is, I tend to do these unplanned and spontaneous. Like, walking to class carrying 3 textbooks and in very close proximity to a myriad of students. In other words, my hair is a weapon. People literally step back when they see me dropping my head, because there is a force the equivalence of a flying squirrel getting thrown around. I mean, people literally will shout, "Abby is flipping hair. STAND CLEAR." And they're not joking one bit. My hair hurts. I know it hurts because I hit myself in the face time more times than I will confess up to. It's even worse when it's wet. I'll step out the shower and bend over to wring my hair out, and when I throw my head back up, my hair will literally slap against my back, sending intense pain shooting down my back. I can't help it, though. It's like a twitch. It has to be done or I squirm. I try not to do it, but then my hair annoys me. Physically, annoys me. Needless to say, my hair will probably hit you in the eye if you're around me. Guarantee.

2. Twitter:
I am addicted to Twitter. Say it loud, say it proud; Twitter addicts, ASSEMBLE. Stupid sayings aside, it's true. I am physically and mentally addicted to Twitter. It's a constant urge to check it. I could check it on my iPod, log onto my computer literally 30 seconds later and go through my feed a second time. In school, if I pick up wifi, you can bet the Kentucky Derby I am on Twitter. (Seriously, bet the Kentucky Derby. I'll even make a horse. It's name will be "Antoine De Tweets A Lot Wit Mi Tweeples.") The downside to this is, I Tweet a lot. I mean a LOT. Which makes me feel like I'm constantly annoying people...which I am. But I can't help it. It's like ~~word~~ type vomit. Which is why I have not only one Twitter, but two (technically 4, but 2 most active.) I honestly can't help it. Not many people listen to me ramble IRL, so when I need to say something, I use Twitter to say it. Majority of the time, I'm speaking to an empty void because they're just unpolished and unrefined words pouring out my mouth...er, hands. Which makes me fear people see me as this callow teenager with nothing but a naive perspective on life and a lackluster vocabulary. I fear this constantly, because I don't believe it to be true, or at least I hope so. It's just an outpour of undeveloped thoughts, and I feel no need to polish them, for they're thoughts that aren't even examined thoroughly, let alone at all. Although Twitter may be the closest thing I have to a diary, it's also where I'm most vulnerable: I might not care what IRL people think, but I tend to try to care heavily what fellow nerdfighers in the community think of me. I'm exposed, unedited and susceptible on Twitter.

3. Constant login of Skype:
Much like Twitter, Skype is a huge part of my life. Actually, it may be more important than Twitter...based on the situations, of course. I have, like most people actively involved on the Internet have, formed very close friendships online. Which of course, the best friends you've ever made in your life don't even live in the same state as you, let alone within an hour radius, is a decent punishment for being addicted to the Internet, right? I live on Skype. Literally. I sit in my room on Skype for hours and hours on end talking to friends. What started as me being placed into a Skype chat of many nerdfighters, (devirginizing me of Nerdfighteria, DFTBA and YouTube, ultimately) led to me to dozens of friendships with many other people (sidebar: I just placed my laptop on my knees from my bed and it burnt me. My laptop has burnt me.) Being able to actually see people's faces, though they live hours away from you, is by far the most mind-blowing thing to me. They're people. They're actual people that I'm talking to. When trying to explain Internet friends to people, including my parents, they all assume that I'm talking to some 50-year-old man living in a trailer in some swamp in Louisiana, dousing himself with beer over his ginormous stomach, watching bad porn, and taking his rifle and shooting the occasional 'gator. Wrong. The friendships are not pseudo friendships. They are genuine and real. They are by far the closest and most personal relationships I've ever formed in my life. I can't be off Skype. I literally can't, because that is how people talk to me. That makes me sound so egotistical and as if I'm some swanky diva (I am) but it's true. Example: If I'm not on Skype, Alexa calls me and asks me why. If that is not a necessity, I don't know what is.

4. The Walking Karaoke Machine
I like so sing. No. I love to sing. If you know me, you know that. I've been singing since I could talk, and belting out Andrew Webber's top 10 hits since I could pull my pants up by myself. I've done theatre in the past. This makes me a very dramatic person. And by dramatic I mean, if I stub my toe I will flail my arms, shrill my roaring cacophony, and collapse onto the ground, rolling around like a potato bug, cursing the world for the existence of doors and clutching my food as if I was a sturdy war vet about to lose a limb. I like to spice up the normal fallacy my peers believe they exist in. I sing songs. Loudly. Obnoxiously. In the middle of the hallway. Alone. Breaking out into Hannah Montana is my specialty. It's the most fun when I am an annoying nuisance and eavesdrop on conversations, and hear a sentence ready for an Abby outburst of song.
Girl 1: "Can you believe he said that?"
Girl 2: "I know. How can he stoop so low?"
Abby: *Dramatically swiveling around in desk* "Shawty had dem apple bottom jeans, jeans. Boots wit da fur, WIT DA FUR."
They love it. They really do. It's even greater at lunch when no one can escape me; namely, my lunchtable. I enjoy thoroughly to put on small shows for people while they're eating. I'm a one-woman Lunch Theatre. I whip out the big guns there.
Emily: "I owe the lunch ladies, like, $5."
Natalie: "Are you going to pay?"
Abby: "We're not gonna paaaay. We're not gonna paaaaay. We're not gonna paaaaayy, LAST YEAR'S REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENT."
This of course is included with small dance numbers, as well as many dramatic pieces. I have yelled Shakespeare loudly in the lunchroom once, causing Natalie's face to turn a very attractive tomato color. With me, there are no safe words. I can take anything and sing it. Save for turnip. I don't know any songs with turnips.

5. Thinking
I think too much. I hate it. Everything people say to me, I anaylze, and debate it, re-anaylze it, and try to understand their emotions directed towards me. I get easily lost in my head, and muse over conversations I've had in the past with people. I try to unlock their heads and crack their emotional code. Most are easy. Some, very difficult. With the friendships I have, you have to base your observations of people off their textual language, or their faces. There is not body language. You have to search their face (or words) to find their emotions. Which is why I easily over-analyze things. I've had terrible, terrible experiences in the past with "friends" and things said to me, that made my heart swell with joy, having to be completely and utterly deflated by their vitriolic words slicing through me. When I didn't scrutinize people's words as thoroughly as I do I now, I got hurt. I am constantly fearing it's going to happen again. I've been so emotionally and mentally unstable these past few months. I'm literally at the most shaky and unsure point of my life than I have been before. Yes, I'm surrounded by beautiful people online that help me get through the toughest of situations, but I'm constantly beating back the storm swelling in me. I think about things that I shouldn't be placing too much heart and thought on. I get myself worked up of nominal and petty things. I get jealous very easily. It's just a never ending spiral to uncertainty and I literally become sick over it. I hate over thinking and I hate not being able to understand people as much as I could. It's not just Internet things. It's my real friendships that are nearing breaking point everyday. I've lost connections to friends. I reach out to them and grasp nothing. Most are simply shells, carrying their bodies, but not their minds. They drink and smoke their life away, waiting for the opportune moment to spring into life. It doesn't exist. You have to make it happen. Which is what frustrates me about the modern teenager. Which is why I escape to the Internet. Which is what made me form friendships. But, with the constant viewing and display of the fragile humans in my school, I fear it will happen to me. I fear that one day all friends I've formed will finally reach the apex of their tolerance with me, and just cut off everything. It might sound silly, and this is probably sounding wildly melodramatic, but I need to say these things. I bottle up emotions. When the cap comes loose, there is just a waterfall of insecurities and unwavering beliefs that everything is just going to vanish one day. That this has all been a dream, and I'm going to wake up and go back to Hell. Back to mind-numbing conversations about hair straighteners. Back to having to constantly feel like I need to impress my parents. Back to unhappiness. Back to being lost in the crowd. I can't go back. I've discovered who I am these past months. I've grown more confident. I've become more exposed to the modern events of this world. I've matured. I've gotten happier. But with the stress of Junior year, and the frustration that is constantly brewing that is college, my mental health has decreased and I'm near hysterics almost every night before I sleep. I hound people and forcefully talk to them because I need something to distract me. Now, as I've said before, I have the best friends that I could ever, ever ask for, whom exist on the Internet, and at the slightest observation of grief they automatically ask if I'm okay. I love them with everything in me. They know who they are, because they're reading this. Which is what fills me with joy you can't honestly understand. My relationships with friends IRL are temperamental. Most of the time I can't find a moot point of a topic to talk about, and there's only so much false care they can present me before I see through their veil. Granted, not all of them are like that. I have a few friends remaining that have not succumbed to the crude and ignorant teenagers that roam my town, currently. But they can't match Internet friends. Nothing can. Which is why I think about everything. I don't want anything to come in between them and I. Anger, misunderstandings, disagreements, jealousy. Nothing. I can't lose them. They are the only ones that can honestly save me from the never-ending warped and twisting place that is my mind. It's twisted and scary and confused-- my mind. Mistrust and unrequited desires cloud everything and is hard to stifle. Sometimes a mask of content doesn't always pull off an illusion of reality.

Well, that last one was not meant to come as deep and as emotionally exposed as it was. I haven't even re-read what I've typed there. I don't want to.

Well. Alright. I'm going to try and sleep off this weird funk that I'm now placed in.

It's odd, isn't it? I was so peppy at the beginning of this post and now my emotions are stolid and confused.

Why am I so weird?

Currently reading: Second Helpings- Megan McCafferty
Listening to this: Outside.
QoD: "See, Gwen! He totally could of picked your ass up!"
VoD: this forever.