Who says school is obligatory?

I am in World History class right now. We are being lectured at by a random man at the moment. I would be paying attention, but I don't know who this man is, so I am drifting off.

I've been thinking about my future a lot lately. Besides being discouraged by my counselor - she basically told me that I wouldn't be getting into the college of my dreams -, I am, overall, pretty optimistic about getting into college and getting a job.
When I was little, I wanted to do a lot of things. I wanted to be a dentist, a vet, a firefighter/cop, lawyer, doctor, stand-up comedian, journalist and, probably at one point, a Disney princess. I was an ambitious little child. Very inquisitive. Today I...well, I still don't know completely. But I have some ideas: forensic anthropologist/investigator, restaurant owner, oncologist, author, record producer, singer, psychologist, etc. As you can see, I still have a plethora of potential jobs, so not much has changed in that aspect. But these ones sound fancier!
College. Jeez, that's intimidating. Two and a half years away. Now, that's downright terrifying. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely excited for college (preferably out-of-state, but I have been informed by my mother that I will only achieve that dream if I win the lottery or get a million half-time jobs), but I am also kind of freaked out by the idea. I mean, the transition into high school was just completely blundering (that was right in the middle of my "awkward phase". Actually, that phase isn't over yet, but I have faith!). But college? Moving out of home to go to a school at least five times bigger than my current school? That's scary. But I still have high hopes for it. I'm not going to talk about the whole freedom bit (although, it's completely true) because it is overdone. I am simply looking foward to learning. Yeah, I know. I'm a nerd. What a shocker! I actually get to choose the classes that I want to take! Oh, and boys. Did I mention boys? I don't think I did. I go to an all-girls school currently... 'Nuff said. Co-ed school will be a nice change.
Okay, I know that right now I'm all pumped about all of the freedom of college and stuff, but to be perfectly honest, I bet you that I will be one of those kids who spends tons of money to go to college out of school (maybe I will marry rich) only to get extremely homesick. After which I will probably drop out of said college to return home and take classes at a local community college...

...

...

Not really though. I mean, I'll get homesick, but not that much.

Alright, awkward man has stopped talking, so I should pay attention to the teacher now.

Farewell, brethren!

A Serious Post

Okay, obviously, I haven't been keeping up with this blog.
So I'm not going to promise to keep up with it, but I'm going to post every now and then when I have time.
This post is going to be really long. If you don't feel like readin it, feel free to skip.
Just saying.

Alright, we're jumping in here. I have no idea what I'm going to talk about. It's like bungee jumping off of the Golden Gate Bridge with a jump rope. Wait...that doesn't actually make sense. Never mind that. Ach, I don't know what I'm doing. This is just really awkward.

Okay, I'm ready.

Being a teenager really sucks sometimes. I know, typical teenage outlook on life. But honestly, it does. I mean, I have been so stressed out lately, it's ridiculous. And, don't get me wrong, I'm not getting stressed out for the hell of it. I have my reasons. But the amount of stress does not corelate with the events in my life. Looking at my life, I realize that there are a few dramatic things in it, but not so much that it should stress me out to this extent. That is why being a teenager sucks. Due to raging hormones and other various body chemicals, every single thing that happens in life seems like a giant...snake-viking-monster. With an ax. That shoots lightening out of the tip. And that's all I've got right now.

Just kidding.
Oh, and by the way, I realize that this is extremely unorganized, but please just cope with me. I need a little while to get back into the swing of this whole "blogging" thing.

Death.
At this point of the blog, you might be thinking something along the lines of "Oh, God. Yet another emo child". Just hear me out.
Some people, the fortunate few (alliteration is fun!), are lucky enough to have not become familiar with death...yet. Everyone has their run-ins with death. Either by dying or experiencing the death of a loved one.
Your first run-in with death is the one that stays with you for the rest of your life.
For those of you who have not dealt with death on a personal level, you should feel fortunate. Sure, you cried at the death of your favorite book or movie character. You got emotional as the hero of the movie fell of a cliff to his tragic death. You may have even had to deal with a friend who lost a family member.
But if you have not personally lost someone, you have no idea about the impact of a death.
When I was about six years old, I had a friend named Sasha. I went to a very small school in first grade, so everyone was friends with everyone else. However, inevitabley, certain people were closer to certain people than they are to others. I had four very close friends (Let's call them Alan, Cara, and Maria. I don't like using real names in blog posts. Well, except for Sasha. That was her real name, in case you were wondering). We sat with each other every day and we would always go out and play soccer during recess. One day, during class, Alan, Cara, Maria and I were sitting with our class in a circle on the floor when we noticed that Sasha wasn't at school that day. We just figured that she must have had a cold or something of the sort. Later that day, our teacher was called out into the hallway to talk to someone. When she came back into the classroom, her eyes were red and her brow was furrowed. She gathered us all into the middle of the room and told us that our friend, Sasha, had cancer. Leukemia, to be exact.
We had no idea what that meant. We thought it was probably something like strepp throat or the flu.
For the next few months, we barely ever saw Sasha because, as we were told, she was getting help at the hospital for her condition. I think that is the moment when we all realized how serious the situation was.
When Sasha finally came back to school for a few days, she looked completely different. She had lost tons of weight and she had no more hair (due to the chemotherapy).
Alan, Cara, Maria and I were playing soccer outside when Sasha came running towards us. We noticed that she looked different, but we didn't care. We all ran up and hugged her. After a few seconds, Sasha broke down crying and said "You guys still remember me!".
Those words still echo in my memory today.
I am extremely proud of how my group of friends reacted. Children are great. They don't care how you look. They love you for who you are.

A few months later, we were told that Sasha had passed away in her mother's arms.
Our class was excused to go attend her funeral. I couldn't stop crying during the whole thing. Her mother went up and gave the eulogy for her six year old daughter. I can't help but have a massive amount of respect for that woman. That must have taken a lot of strength.

I still think about Sasha every now and then.
Now, this post might seem pretty random, but I assure you that it is not.
Sasha died abou ten years ago this month.
The point of this is that death isn't something that is forgotten. You carry it around with you forever. The pain of loss, yes. But also the fond memories and the great influences that these people had on your life.

Back from the dead

Oh, hi!
Um...
Yeah.
I'm pretty sure I've addressed this topic before, but I am not good at re-introducing myself after extended periods of time.
So, we're just gonna jump on in and attempt not to drown in all of the awesome that is the internet.

I just realized that I am writing this and I have no idea in which direction I would like to take this...
So be prepared for a whole bunch of tiny paragraphs. Or not. We'll just have to see. Alright, here we go.

Harry Potter. It's my favorite book series of all time. You may or not be aware of this, but the first half of the final movie is coming out this week. "First half?" you say. "Yes, indeed." I explain "You see, this book to movie crossover is filled with so much awesome, that if the directors were to release the whole book in one movie, the world, nay, the entire UNIVERSE would implode upon itself. Imagine the Goblet of Fire. Now imagine the sum amount of awesome between myself and cookies. Now, put that into the Goblet. Now, multiply that by a million. If you did this correctly, the Goblet of Fire should be spilling awesome all over the floor". And although, Filch may not be very pleased with you getting awesome all over the rug (it stains, you know), the fact that that much awesome could be in a movie, would be overwhelming. So, yes, two Deathly Hallows movies. What? Where will I be while this exhibit of magic and wands *if you wish, you may insert a sexual innuendo here* is going on? At home. Probably reading Harry Potter and listening to depressing music while I drown my sorrows in cookies. Why will I be doing this? School. More specifically, the movie release is on a school night...
I think we should get rid of school. I feel like, if we did that, there would be less depression in the world. Because I know for a fact that I will not be the only one missing the premier due to school (that's what I keep telling myself, at least). If there were no school, there would be no missing movie premiers. Point proven.

OH! I just heard an MCR song in a commercial which reminded me: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IS NOW GOING ON A TOUR AND COMING TO H-TOWN (my residence)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And guess who will be seeing them? That would be me. Yes, ma'am/sir. Best moment of my life? I think so!

Feet are just really weird. They are shaped awkwardly. I have big feet. It's ridiculous. Once, I was at the mall and this random small child came up to me and told me that I had huge feet. I told him that my feet were big because they were filled with secrets (Mean Girls reference, anyone?). They just kind of stared at me and ran away.

That is all for now!!

From out of the blue...

Ahem... Hello, Internet.
I know, it's been a really long time. I'm not good with saying goodbye... Or hello (as is evident from this awkward message), so I was just hoping you could maybe not question my prolonged absence? Maybe? No?... Damn. Okay, well, I will give a few vaguely general responses as to why I haven't blogged in a while. I was on hiatus. I was trying to find myself. I was dealing with some personal things. I was captured by homicidal hillbillies who didn't have wifi (talk about technologically incapable). I had homework. I was tired. *cough* So I was hoping that would be all good? Yeah? Alright, I love you, too. *hug* This is nice.
Alright, enough of that.
I was talking to one of my friends today and the topic of my blog came up, and she asked "You're still blogging, right?". To this I responded "...". This answer made her displeased. How do I know this? She gave me The Look. If have ever been a son or daughter (or both, we don't discriminate here), you will know the look to which I am referring. Let me give an example: You are sitting at dinner with your parents and they ask you why you didn't turn in your geometry homework, you respond with "Well... I was walking to school and I got mugged by some Math Ninjas. They are running rampant around the city...". Your mother/father (or both, again, we don't discriminate. And by 'we', I mean I don't) says "Kelsey, you don't walk to school. *insert look here*". No? Okay... Your parent or legal guardian tells you to clean up your room.
(ONE WEEK LATER)
You have not cleaned up your room. Your guardian approaches you and says "KELSEY, I TOLD YOU TO CLEAN UP YOUR ROOM! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR ROOM-MATE IF YOU ARE SUCH A SLOB!"... BAM! The Look is upon their face. Yes, so my friend gave me The Look. So, Micaela, this is for you.
*scuttles for something to say*
Oh, I got a new phone. His name is Hermagilde (pronounce Her-muh-gill-duh). Porpoise (my old phone) died. He was committed suicide. I was changing for my PE class (How permiscuous), and Porpoise decided that he didn't want to live any longer, so he flung himself from my pocket and landed directly into a sink. For some mysterious reason, the sink was filled with water. And I don't mean a small puddle of water, I mean a few inches of water. So, obviously, he is no longer in operation. Although, I still keep him by my bedside table. I think that's kind of creepy, actually... It's like keeping a dead pet on your bedside table. Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and glancing over at your deceased pet: "Oh, hey, Fido. How's it going?". I'm sorry, that was really sketchy...
Okay, I'm gonna stop talking (typing) before I get any creepier (which is bound to happen).
PEACE, MY HOMIES!

My excuse and Singing hamsters.

Um... *peeks out from behind computer screen*... Hi, everyone... *weak smile*
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. But, I do have an excuse. At least for a few days. The last few I was just kind of tired.
So, at my school we have a laptop program wherein all of the students are given computers. I don't know whose idea it was to give a bunch of teenagers a bunch of expensive computers, but that's not the point. Since we are, after all, a bunch of teenagers, we are not exactly "gentle" with our lovely computers. Therefore the principal sees it fit to have a computer service location. Also known as The Cave (of sexual torture). That last part isn't the legit name. That would be inappropriate seeing as it is a Catholic school... Anyway, The Cavemen and woman ordered all of last year's freshmen to take their computers (I named mine Link-o Po Chink-o) to The Cave so that they may be updated to Windows 7!! Yay! Pretty! Okay, so my computer was away at The Cave for about three days. So that's part one of my excuse. Part two of my excuse exists of reading online comics, staying up late talking to my Chat Orgy (Yes, you read that correctly. No, it is not a real orgy. I am a good Christian girl...Sometimes. Heh heh), writing a book (which I haven't updated lately, but here's the link anyway: http://www.wattpad.com/493870-lights-cameras-disaster ), and watching Harry Potter and zombie movies with my friends... I feel like that is a decent excuse.

Now, I will go on to the portion of the blog wherein I whine and complain about things that annoy me! Yay!

Kia. They have very nice cars. I mean, they are pretty and they are environmentally friendly (or as friendly as a gas-guzzler can be). But there is one reason that has made me decide that I will NEVER buy a car from Kia Motors: wangster hamsters. Yes, wangster. Wanna-be gangster. Those less-than-ghetto-fabulous rodents from the Kia commercials get on my nerves. They all walk around with their doo rags on and try to be super-fly. (Reference picture) Now, don't get me wrong, the hamsters aren't the only part of the commercials that I hate with a burning passion that could fuel a thousand small towns for an eternity. I also dislike the music that is playing in the background of the "Soul Hamster" commercials. "You can get with this, or you can get with that. You can get with this, or you can get with that. You can get with this, or you can get with that." And it goes on and on and on. First off, I have no appreciation for a song that is put in motion to small rodents. Secondly, why would I want to "get with" a car. I feel like that would be at least partially illegal. Like.... Automotiphilia. Automotiviality (like bestiality. But with cars). So, no, Kia Hamsters. I will not be "getting with" any of your vehicles in the forseeable future.

And that's all I have to say on the matter.
Farewell!

Singing to flowers and Stairs.

Ahlo, everybody!

You may recall me mentioning the Corpse Plant at the museum in my last blog. She is amazing. Lois is. Last night I got really bored, so I decided to write a song for her. After thirty pain-filled minutes, my song was complete. I called it: An Ode to Lois. Very original, huh? Anyway, I posted it on facebook and it got many comments and likes. I enjoyed that. Then I brought my guitar to work this morning so that I could serenade Lois in person and, hopefully, persuade her to bloom. That didn't work... But! My song did catch the attention of a few museum employees, who, after recording me and my lovley assistant Stacey (she held the lyrics for me while I played), proceeded to post the video on the museum website. After I officially got off work, it was suggested that I go back to Lois and play for her some more because the crowd had gotten bigger. Yay! So I did. I felt awkward because people kept on coming up to me and asking if I was the one who played for the flower (No, I'm just carrying this guitar because I am a rebel. A rebel with a guitar). Then people were taking pictures of me and I didn't know what to do... So I just kinda smiled awkwardly and looked away. I don't deal with attention very well. By about 5:30, I was getting overheated and tired. So I played An Ode to Lois one last time (the security guard accompanied me that time because he had memorized the lyrics. He's cool like that) and then left. Fun times. *passes out*

*wake up*

Stairs: An invention made for people who actually have willpower. Not me. Every time I walk up the stairs, I get all tired. It's rather pathetic, really. My solution to avoid being all tuckered out: Get rid of stairs (Excercize? Never heard of it). I mean, this is the 21st century, after all. We have awesome things like laptops, iPods and electric bread-slicers. I think we should ditch the primative staircase and update it with something more modern. I think that every flight of stairs in America should be replace with an escalator. Not an elevator, because those things are scary and I don't like to be in confined spaces. And that's all I'm saying on the subject.

Sorry, this post was really short. But I literally feel like I am going to pass out. I promise I'll make up for it next time.

Bye bye!!

Corpse Flowers and uses for watermelon.

Ni hao!
I learned that yesterday at work. It's pretty cool, eh?

So, basically H-town has been abuzz with news of a Corpse Plant. "Corpse Plant? That sounds unhygenic! It kind of reminds me of Little Shop of Horrors, Kelsey." you say. "I know, huh?" I respond. This plant can be found at none other than *drum role* MY MUSEUM!! Okay, not "my" museum... But the museum that I work at. It's pretty awesome. Everyone that works there is very excited about it. It's pretty nerdy. My friends and I were getting really excited about it. As a matter of fact, my friend, let's call her June, and I devised a plan: Since I am just awesome, I get to leave the camp a little bit earlier than her. She instructed me to, once the clock struck 3, dart out the door and up the stairs (summer camps are held in the basement. Pretty cool, huh?), then to run down the main hall to the Butterfly Center (that's where the plant is being kept). She then instructed me to run back downstairs and tell her whether or not it reeked of rotting flesh. Oh, did I forget to mention why it's called the Corpse Plant? When it blooms, which is very rarely (this is the 2nd ever to bloom in Texas), it gives off a very strong stench... Of rotting corpses. So basically, everyone is sitting on pins and needles (that sounds painful), and wanting to get a whiff of the plant. Why? Because it's FRIGGIN' AWESOME!! Anyway, I completed the task given to me by June. I ran up the stairs and basked in the glory of the plant. But I was disappointed to find out that it had not bloomed... No rotting flesh smell for Kelsey. Or June. Or any of the good people of the museum. Sad day. I will continue to frequent the plant every day until it blooms. I will report when it does. And I will attach a stench to the computer so that you, too, may smell it's odor. That'd be pretty awesome...

Also, today I went to the party of one of my dear friends. This party was filled with "double rainbows", "snake-lizards", gongzooblers, and watermelon. My friends and I, being the good citizens we are, decided that instead of throwing away the watermelon seeds, we would return them back to Mother Earth. But simply planting them in the ground would not do. Not for us. We decided to have some fun. We decided to spit the seeds at on-coming traffic. Yes. Thinking about it now, the seeds didn't technically make it to the soil... It made it to the concrete. The asphault. So they won't really be...sprouting tiny melons. They will be...sizzling and...and dying.... Hm...
Anyway, I got to thinking, because I do that sometimes. I was thinking of possible ways that the humble watermelon could help us. Here are a few I came up with:
1) You can nom them. They are yummy, therefore, rather nommable.
2) You can use them as a stylish, biodegradable paper-weight.
3) You can use them to replace Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Potatoes (potatos?) are SO last month.
4) You can scoop out their delicious core and use the rind as a helmet. So fun.

Alrighty then. That's all that I got for now.

Tune in next time on: THE INTERNET!