The difference between weekdays and weekends.

As you can see, it speaks for itself. In the first, I'm apparently wearing a brown shirt and jeans, but it looks awful and strange. I am trying to sleep on my kitchen counter. This has happened before. In the second, I'm wearing ball shorts (or basketball shorts) and a big, awesome, pea soup green Jimi Hendrix hoodie that belongs to my aunt. This is basically my life.And yes, my hair does that sometimes.

This is, indeed, another reallyfrigginshort post.

The title is longer than the body of words. Hah, just kidding.

Reached over a thousand page views. WOOT WOOT! *fist pump like a pro*

That is all. And, uh, happy Halloween, I suppose. I might not visit here for a few more days because I'm trying to work on writing and otherrrr stuuuuuuufffffff. Meeehhhhh.

*smile*

Then you have no soul

If the song I Am Not A Whore doesn't make you laugh. That song is HILARIOUS. I start giggling like a nerd every time I hear it, plus I'm a Rob Dyrdek's Fantasy Factory fan and if you saw that episode where he's playing this song and mouthing the lyrics, you understand. LMFAO just gets how to make a good song. Actually, that's the only one I've heard by them. Still.

This is the part where I post more song lyrics and you nod politely.

See? It works out for everyone that way. News: I love The Colbert Report. I recommend that if you can, you should attend the Rally to Restore Sanity or the Rally to Keep Fear Alive because that would be awesome and Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert are hilarious. I mean really, the Merch to Keep Fear Alive makes me laugh so so so much and loudly. Ken Buck is the love child of Rush Limbaugh and the devil. Just saying. He's a hardcore crazyface. It's cold out, but the weather people LIE. LIIIIIIIIIIES I shout at the TV. LIES I SAY. It rained half a drop for 8 seconds today and it was supposed to rain. Really rain. Like lightning and clouds and fluids. Not just wind and then a sneeze of rain and then nothing. Pfft. Suck it, weather people. You make me want to punch a bird.

Anyhoo, to zee saahng! It's called Sex and Reruns by Matt Duke and it's such a good song. I've listened to it at least 50 times in the past two days. It's funny because you think I'm kidding. No. Not at all. I have to thank The Lady (she knows who she is) because without her I wouldn't know this song.

Do you shake through the night?
Tucked under the covers tight-ly
There's monsters in the shadows and zombies in the street lights

And the sounds from the street
Like some terrible cacophony
It cuts through the walls of your bedroom and haunts your dreams

But don't you cry
I'll sing you a lullaby
But by and by it's wasted time
Take a spoonful to settle your mind
And I wish you goodnight

Dark out all your demons with white noise, pills, and Jesus
And when I get down, I just turn off the lights
I find friends and lovers, some online sex and reruns
And when I get down, I just turn off the light the light the lights

When you're lost and confused
But you're too proud to face the truth
Spend up all your money on a band-aide to cover the wound

When you suck at life
But you're much too scared to die
Embrace the sweet indifference with your brothers and we'll march in time time time

But why so stressed?
Do you feel like the world's a mess?
Well grab what you can from the medicine chest and all your worst fears suppress
And just turn off the lights

Dark out all your demons with white noise, pills, and Jesus
And when I get down, I just turn off the lights
I find friends and lovers, some online sex and reruns
And when I get down, I just turn off the light the light the lights

Dark out all your demons with white noise, pills, and Jesus
And when I get down, I just turn off the lights
I make friends and lovers, some online sex and reruns
And when I get down, I just turn off the light the light the lights
Turn off the light the light the light

I OBVIOUSLY don't condone substance abuse, but it otherwise has a pretty positive message. I think, anyways. I really like the beat and the subdued sound to it, even though it really is a sort of upbeat song. Lots of good drum and guitar and such. It came out in 2008 but no one has made it famous YET. Listen to it, you'll lurve it.

And I'm on fall break so hopefully I'll get some stuff done. Hopefully.

Sun beams through the smoke.

Eff it I'm posting again. I really shouldn't, but I am because this is a rantish post but in a good way. It's for positivity. For keeping your head and heart up even when you feel like everything is falling down and it won't stop for anything.

Like I've ranted many times to my family before, there will probably always be badness in the world. We're only human. Not everyone thinks straight, and, well, those ones cause pain and heartbreak and fear to swell and crash. But there will always be goodness. There will always be sun beams peeking through the smokey haze after a disaster, you've just got to search them out. There will always be happiness and hope, but sadly, for every free-thinker and do-gooder and selfless volunteer or donation or patron or nonprofit there are 10 or 15 other idiots screwing everything up and telling people that there isn't a chance at happiness for them. Wow, that was a really long sentence.

There's always a silver lining. Always. It may not seem like it, but life moves on. You can still be happy. Open your eyes. Look at the world around you, the people, the beauty, the wonder, the reasons for everyone to live, the reasons for you to live, the love, the hope, the opportunity for happiness and the chance to thrive. We can't let the darkness swallow us whole because how will we ever escape? We've got to keep going, moving forward into a brighter future. We've got to make things happen for ourselves and for others, if that's what will make you happy. Nothing is insignificant. Like Ghandi said, "Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it's very important that you do it." Yeah, that's confusing, but I think it's more sardonic and wise rather than literal. Like, maybe people will never notice that you recycled that one can or that you gave that one crying kid a band-aid or that you snuck that one drink into the movie theater, but you still do it. Everything matters, even if it really doesn't. Confusion, confusion, yeah, yeah.

"Be the change you want to see in the world." Now, that's a big one. Very important to me. I got it from my English teacher last year, who is a wonderful person, and it really "speaks" to me. I feel the urge, the need, the growing hunger to change the world. To save humanity from collapsing in on itself. To show people that once we set everything that makes us different aside, we're just people. Status, wealth, race or ethnicity, culture, age, gender, size, language, sexuality, religion, we're just people. We're all the same on the inside. We're all one, but in truth, there will never be another one like you or me. Nobody will ever say the exact same things as you and nobody will ever do the exact same things as you or like the exact same things as you. We are all different, and we bond over similarities. Yet we use our differences as weapons. Religion should be something that holds people together, that opens our eyes and enlightens. We can never truly say one religion is right or wrong, that there is one almighty god or there are many gods or one god saved us or one god punished s or if there is even a god at all. That's why we have faith, that need to believe that there is something greater than ourselves out there that has a hand in humanity and that will provide eternal peace if we do things for the greater good, benefit others as well as ourselves (but only enough to be happy). Or we have the belief that we are people, and nothing more. No one can say anyone is wrong or right. The holy writings were written by us mortals, and for all we know it's just a bunch of lies, or it really happened. We should connect over shared beliefs and learn from each other through differences, but we don't and we generate fear and blame and therefore hate, which will be the end of us all.

How do we expect ourselves to survive if we're killing each other, just dropping like flies and acting as though we are expendable? What if the person that just died was going to find the cure to cancer? What if that person being put in the ground was going to create a masterpiece so moving that people would weep at the sight of its beauty? What if the person that dies in the next 30 seconds was going to find a technology that will prevent Global Warming, that will reduce pollution, that will make it easier for people to stay healthy or get clean water or grow crops or just survive? Why can't we set the weapons down, take a good, long look at each other and accept? It's called agreeing to disagree for a reason. Why do we have to have disputes over power when we're all equal? None of us have super powers. None of us have done some insanely monumental thing to prove that we are superior to other humans. As far as I know, the only reason we have dictators and people in places of power that ruin countries and lives is because we're afraid to speak up, and for good reason. We need to educate the world. To show everyone how to live their lives instead of hating others'. To be tolerant and learn and accept. We throw around the phrase "The children are our future" so much, but they really are. We could create an entire generation that is completely unbiased when it comes to race and religion and sexuality and is willing to learn about the lives and beliefs of others and embrace the things that make us unique.

And people. We do not choose our race. We do not choose to be homosexual or heterosexual. We just are that way, and you can read the Bible or Koran or whatever you want and think that everyone was straight, but I guarantee you, there was some "blasphemous" thinking going on. We do not need any more extremists, no matter what kind they are. The word terrorist has a root, and that root is terror. They elicit fear in others and make people cower so they can take advantage of them. A terrorist isn't just the stereotypical kind, either. Like I just said, it's someone who uses fear to gain power, and anyone can be a terrorist.

So even though we see those daily broadcasts of war, fear, death, and poverty, we've got to stay positive. And you can't just sit back and say "That's a shame" if you really think it is. There's not always going to be someone else who's going to take care of the dirty work. We've all got to try. Start from the bottom and work our way up, or dive right into the nitty-gritty terrifying and tough cases, like Darfur or Africa in general or the slums in Asia or the ghettoes in lower-class America or the poverty all over the world. Anywhere you are, anywhere you come from , there are always the shocking and heart-stopping situations that need help, or even the more mild ones that still can't be ignored, and as long as we have people who are willing to put themselves aside for just a moment and help others who need it so much more, we will always have those sun beams shining strong through the smoke. Because you know what the crazy thing about sunshine is? You can shoot at it, throw punches, try to set it on fire, bomb it, whatever you want to try to destroy it, but it's unaffected. It'll still be there after you open the shades and it will rise every morning, set every night, but be right back up there no freaking matter what.

See the love, be the love; be the change, see the change.

Yeah, I came up with that all on my own, floozies. You can quote me on that.

This is why I love Google sometimes.

Because when someone googles "why kleenex is necessary" they are directed here.

Of all places, here.

And if they search "pee like seabiscuit" they end up in this back-alley dumpster wonderland.

I'm super classy.

Now for an actual post:

I really don't like bugs. Really really really really really absolutely do not like bugs at all. I mean city bugs (I've said this before and I'll say it again) because they get all up in my grill, buzzing in my face like "Ohai! Can I touch your eyeball??? Or plant my eggs in your mouth or ear or nose???" and I'm flailing and shaking my hair out and squeaking. Now, it's getting sort of cold here (like it should have been a month ago) and you'd think the evil bastards would be going into hibernation or whatever the eff they do when it's cold. Die, drop, die, whatever, I don't care. I prefer they die. BUT NO. Because of Global Warming (rant rant rant) it's still hot out sometimes (like it was today - 80 degrees in the middle of October in Colorado) and there are hornets hanging out on our balcony and making me duck and screech every time I walk out there. Which is a lot.

And the moths. My God, the moths.

They were gone all summer. All. And then in September they starting coming out... one by one... And I would walk up the stairs and be assaulted by one and yelp and run and flail and curse them in my head. And then I mutter bitterly, "Just when you think they're gone..." AND one was in the house not too long ago. I was like WTF? because I'm pretty sure no one invited it in, but the screen door was open (ahem, Parental) and it was trying to finagle its way upstairs. But instead it went behind a picture frame. And we don't know if it's still there, and of course I'm the only one who is concerned with moth whereabouts because Parental could get her arm stolen by a zombie and still not be freaked out or scared. She has sniffed the ground to see if it's pee or just something else. I don't know how she does it because it will be a cold day in Hades before I smell anything that hasn't been previously identified. She was raised on a farm, so she's always saying "I woke up to milk cows" and other stuff because I refuse to touch a dish that isn't clean. That crap is nasty.

ANYWAYS, the moths are still here and yesterday there was one trying to get in here, but insects don't understand the concept of glass. Oh, and I saw an ant on the counter and I just about simultaneously peed my pants, fainted, and bombed the kitchen. I multitask like a friggin pro. I smashed it dramatically and wiped off the spot where I murdered it and started yelling and shouting about "ANTS! ANTS! I SAW AN ANT! IN THE KITCHEN! FRIGGIN ANTS!!! I CAN'T DO IT AGAIN, PARENTAL, I JUST REFUSE!" I was gesturing wildly with my arms and pacing the floors because a week or so earlier, there was an ant on our windowsill, near where they first invaded, and I freaked the crap out.

Parental told me it was probably stupid Oslow that put the ant up there, that on one of his many many oh so delightful trips to the counter to eat our last stick of butter, he probably had an ants ticking to him and that's how it got up there. I wanted to throw Oslow out the window, but I refrained because I'd rather not go to jail, despite the hilarious stories my mom has told me about it. I suggested we move, but nay she said.

Whatever. I'm probably going to keep posting about my dumb dog's misadventures because the past month, he has been jumping on our counter and eating our bagels, butter, and pretty much anything we leave there that's edible. Then he rubs his butt on the concrete outside and I comment on how charming he is when other people walk by, but hey, at least he's not rubbing his butt on my shoes. I might have to draw and quarter him if he did (I got that from Hyperbole and a Half, which is uber funny). So we've been threatening him every time we take him somewhere that we really are going to give him to a hobo this time, but obviously, we don't. Sigh. Maybe we'll sell him to a sketchy restaurant.

*hanging sign that reads "No, I swear I'm a chicken" around his neck* What?

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I'm actually becoming almost a little bit well-known. Sort of.

Guess who has more than 1 or 2 people in other countries looking on here? This lady. It may be by accident, but I totally like it. Because I really love to travel. Im considering joining the foreign-exchange club thing. I really should keep up better with events in school. But whatever, to all people in eastern and northern European countries who happen to maybe stumble here: you really should tell me more about your country or send me pictures. I'm a photography and Europe ho, not that I don't like the other countries, too. One of my bestbest friends is from Palestine. Or Jordan. She says Jordan, but they have the Palestinian flag around their house. Anyways, just saying.And her mom makes some AWESOME grape-leaf things that make my brain explode because of how delicious they are.

AND... something else. I forgot what I was going to... ... say... Nevermind. No matter.

I'm going to post some pictures on ATAP pretty soon, some of which I've been told are super awesome, so yeah. And if you want, you can send me a plane ticket so I can go live in Portland and I'll send you a crap ton of awesome nick-knacks (sp?). Just kidding. But seriously. You'd be my almost-hero and I'd be forever indebted to you. You know you want to. Fine, don't then.

I'm almost about to start my whole Do Not Breed propaganda thing on here, which will be even more awesome if people get all crazy on me. You know you've made it big when people don't like you.

AND QUEUE THE CHICKEN!

 

 It's saved as "madeofwin" on the desktop.

What.

MLIA submission #20

Today, I told my friend my pants would probably explode when we went to a concert for one of our favorite bands. MLIA.

STOP STEALING MY FREAKING QUARTERS, YOU JERKFACE!

Tiny: *walking around with a plastic baseball that used to be a mint container [before she threw it on the ground and they flew everywhere and we had to pay for it]* La di da di da. *shakes baseball* ching ching ching I need gas in my car. *walks over to small, plastic Flinstones car*

Me: Hey, are those my coins?

Tiny: No, those are not your coins.

Me: I'm pretty sure you've got my coins in your hand.

Tiny: No, I doesn't. *walks over to my stairs, where my piggy-bank is*

Me: Hey. HEY. GET OFF MY STAIRS. Josalyn, stop stealing my change. Stop it! That's MY money, you turd! GET OFF OF MY STAIRS! STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!

Tiny: No, no, they're not your coins. *putting coins on steps*

Me: Joooooosaaaaaalyyyyyyyyn, stop taking my cooooooooooins! That's my hard-earned money! (not really. It's pretty much all leftover and/or found.)

Tiny: *ignoring me*

Me: *walks over to stairs and, yep, my piggy bank is unscrewed. I think I need to punch a bird in the face. Just a little* Um, Parental, did you open my piggy-bank?

Parental: ....(Facebook).... Whaaa? Oh, uhh, no. I wouldn't do that.

Me: *dramatic sigh* No, that's not it... Friggin a, Josalyn! STAY OUT OF MY STUFF, you BUTTFACE. Someone's going down and I think her name is Josalyn.

Tiny: No, Josalyn's not going down. *sing-song voice* I'm not going dow-owwwn. *dancing*

Me: GRAAAGHHHHHHHHHH. Stay out of my stuuuuff, you turd face! I've told you, over an over, stay out of my STUFF. *walks over to pile of crap toys. Sees ring that I was looking for about a month or so ago.* HEY. What is this? OHMYGOD. YOU! *points to Parental* Yoooooooooou! YOU!!!

Parental: What?

Me: Do you see this? I've been looking for this forever and... *sigh* Agh, how did she get this? *walks back over and, holy jaysus, she's got another one. My brain might explode. [I hatehatehatehatehatehatehate people touching my stuff.]* LOOK AT THIS. LOOK. *puts about 4.3 centimeters from Parental's face* You see this?

Parental: Oh my gosh, how did she get that?

Me: That's what I'm saying! It's my skippy ring. My skippy ring. How. did. she. get. this. *points at Tiny* You! Yoooou!

Tiny: Me! Meeee! *laugh*

Me: Awesome. *exaggerated sigh/groan* Whatever. Freakin a.

And that's what happens. She steals my stuff and I turn into a crazy pirate and get all groany and whiny and this is so not cool, Tiny, so not cool.

She also knows how to unscrew things, which is extremely inconvenient for all parties involved. She likes things like lotions and spilling stuff with flailing and running and taking over my water. Good times. And I absolutely cannot stay mad at her.

I like my quarters, okay? Laundry, even numbers, really really really terrible tipping, it all works out with quarters.

PS. The last tag looks like it says "swords" 3 times.

MLIA submission #83

Today, my dog sneezed and I said "Bless you." MLIA.

You know, your glasses really make your eyes look creepy. Oh crap, did I say that out loud?

No, I didn't. But that would have been hilarious.

So I'm just sitting on the couch, looking at pictures on Flickr because hey, I got some homework done so I get a present. You work hard, you play hard. Five seconds or eighteen minutes or some other amount of time later, I hear people outside in the stairwell outside because I leave the door open when it's cool outside. Oslow, being Loudy McNoListen Pants, started making his huffing noises like hey, hey, HEY you, outside, hey I'm right here and hey guess what? I'm gonna shove my nasty underbite in your face so you think I'm scary because as much as I pee and fart in this house, I do need to pretend I care about the people in this house, so hey, go away or I'll make louder noises and get something thrown at me. Or at least I think that's his inner monologue. So I said, "QUIET YOU," thinking the people were neighbors and weren't going to bother me. I don't much like talking to people who come to my door if I don't know them. Understandable because we've had ex-drug addicts selling magazine subscriptions and a bunch of Mormons and other unsavory characters who've come a-knocking.

But they were still there.

And one of them was all "AND DOGGIES!!!"

And I was like Whyyyy??? So they knocked and Oslow started yelling at them in Norwegian and I had to poke him with my foot multiple times or else Tiny would wake up and a certain dog would get sold to a restaurant.

Me: Hi...

Short glasses lady: Hi *smile* we're walking for (Democratic Politician) and (other stuff I don't care about). Are you voting for (DP)?

Me: Ummmm... we don't really watch the news very much. (Does she not see that I'm a minor?)

Silhouetted lady: Oh, well, you really should vote.

SGLady: Yes, and you're both registered Democrats?

Me: *confused, blank stare*

SGLady: Comrade and Parental are registered Democrats?

Me: Oh, um, Comrade moved and, uh, yeah, Parental isn't home right now...

SGLady: *hands me pamphlet* Well, every vote counts-

SLady: Yeah *nod*.

SGLady: Yes, it's a very tight race. So you should definitely vote.

Me: (You know, I'm not old enough to vote and I don't even know what politician you're talking about. Such a messy business, politics) *convincing tone* Oh yeah, definitely, for sure. Mmhmm.

SGLady: Yes, if you don't vote, the wrong guy might get into office, and we don't want that.

Me: (Oh my God, is this a cult or something? Are you going to steal my soul if I don't vote? And by the way, you and SLady look a lot alike. It's a little creepy, actually. Why does your shirt say 9News? Are you with the news?) *nod* Yeah, I'll check it out and stuff.

SGLady: Okay, thanks. *slowly closing screen door* Make sure you vote!

Me: (I can't wait to tell Parental about this... You know, I really can handle that door myself) *closes screen door the rest of the way* Got it. Yeah. (You're not strange at all. Very persuasive. You could sell ice to an Eskimo)

I locked the screen door (yeah, we got a lock. Be jealous) and went to sit back down on the couch, texting Parental the situation with commentary from yours truly. But they were still standing there. They were whispering and murmuring words and things and it was very suspicious. It was really awkward, me glancing over at the door and waiting for them to leave, them huddling in the stoop and just... scheming, I'm sure.

I'm never answering the door again. Unless it's a band or someone famous or a large, walking pie.

Holy bejeezus, was that a walking cupcake? Wait, does that mean there's a hooker lurking nearby, then?

Indeed it does. Because one of my neighbors is a "Lady of the Night."

To be continued.

SO SHUT YOUR WHINY MOUTH ALREADY (just kidding)

No, seriously. I can't hear my ranting over your whiny self. Just kiiiiidding.Psh, baby. Kidding, I lurve you guys. Not really, though.

Like I said before, I lied. No Daylight Savings yet, which sucks giraffe abortions, but... ... ... No, nevermind. There's no redeeming quality in not getting an extra hour of sleep.