The time keeps passing by so quickly like one minute it’s 8:30 and i’m settling in to watch a movie trailer on Youtube and the next time I look at the clock the day is nearly over. I was only going to watch that one trailer (and then spent the next two and a half hours doing so (have i mentioned I can spend hours watching movie trailers? (I might like them more than I like movies (trailers I mean))). On Day 5 of the new year (and the new year’s resolution) I am proud to say that I also have five posts (though I get around to them a little late (hellllooooo my day has to end before I can get around to telling you about it (even though the last five days have been nothing but a whole lot of nonsense))) that correctly coincide with the five days of the new year. Happy day to me!
I’m currently being serenaded by Taylor Swift through my cool Beats headphones (which I didn’t buy because I can’t afford such a thing (I won them in a raffle at the holiday meeting at the job that I had for a month and a half, hated, and then quit (another story))) and she’s giving me all sorts of inspiration. Okay well she only sings lovey songs so she’s telling me that me and her found wonderland and we got lost in it (and I’m really just typing the lyrics and seeing how quickly I can type to catch up to her voice (I got my typing skills from playing Runescape for hours in the fifth grade and chatting with the other users (my best Runescape friend was Skippy66 (did you play?))). (I just repeated the song (I love it I can’t help it)). Taylor Swift is 25, so, lucky for her, she’s already skipped over the terrible 19’s (which in case you haven’t heard of are very much UNLIKE the terrible twos because in fact they are MUCH WORSE (except you don’t act like a monstrous brat in the terrible 19 stage)). And in fact, just today I was discussing the terrible 19’s with a friend of mine (a fellow Taylor Swift fan and hater of the age we’re at) and we both pretty much had the same concerns. So we griped and we grouched and we complained about everyone in our Snapchat stories (I hate snapchat I swear to you I don’t know why i keep it around).
I know I complain at least once in every post about how much I hate the age of 19 (and I’m sorry if I’m starting to sound like a nasty broken record) but it really is terrible for people like me!
I sound dramatic.
And I’m definitely no saint.
But grinding on boys is not fun (in fact I would imagine it would be painfully awkward and I hope no one ever successfully grinds on me for a second or I might die (I LITERALLY WILL DIE I PROMISE)). And I don’t think drinking is fun (and I have tried alcohol at least two times (don’t worry I know I’m underage and I do suffer from a painfully guilty conscience) but both or all times have tasted like I chugged a bottle of nail polish remover (not that I would know what nail polish remover tastes like or anything) and nail polish remover never tastes good…ever (not that I would know how it tastes or anything)). And I don’t think partying with drunk people is fun (because the one drunk girl I hung out with almost got us killed by another drunk girl (and okayyyyyy one time I got broken up with by a drunk boy (who didn’t remember he had drunkenly broken up with me (drunken words are sober thoughts though am i right))). And the smell of smoke makes me want to vomit my insides all over the smoker (it’s true, but I’ve yet to vomit my insides all over anyone). And all anyone likes to do these days is get high and get drunk and grind on boys (and other girls) and I don’t see any fun in it.
Maybe I’m just some boring kid (or young adult, whatever) but really……..where is the fun…. BUT SERIOUSLY what happened to frozen yogurt runs or sleepovers where we drank soda and ate popcorn and watched movies (and not the sleepovers where you were too drunk to go home because your parents would chew you out because you were underage drinking)? Or maybe I’m jealous of the crop-top-wearing, short-skirt clad pretty girls who grind on boys and drink alcohol carelessly (because I can’t wear crop tops with the love handles I have and I would probably bust out of a short (tight) skirt with my leg alone and let’s not even get started on my hanging out with boys skills (I won’t even grind with my future husband for fear of not being able to look him in the eye afterwards (GRINDING IS WEIRD))). Or MAYBE this is what growing up is and I haven’t grown up yet (though I’m just gonna sit on my high horse here and be honest and say that I’m not the one who needs growing up to do…..not judging though). But I’ll tell you that if this is what growing up is, then take me back to age twelve because I think I’d rather be ugly and awkward (rather than just awkward like I am now (I’m not being conceited, I just think I’m past the ugly stage (i feel like I am still sounding conceited so I will stop))) for life than to have to sit around lamely while everyone parties their life away.
Is it my fault that a night of weird movies on Netflix (and maybe some sushi and popcorn cause I am a forever lover of both) is my idea of fun? And is it my fault that I’d rather talk all night (I really am capable, I’m really chatty (like if you don’t interrupt me I might not ever stop talking (in case you ever get a chance for some cool face to face time with Laura))) than party all night??????? No it’s not my fault! I think I’m the normal one! (not that this is a debate of normalcy) (by the way my favorite song by Rixton has come on (have you heard of them? they’re good))
If you wanted to know why I hate this age period so much (and why I wish the magic dust from 13 Going on 30 was totally real so I could just be successful and 30 already) then this is why. The long awaited answer to your question.
In all seriousness, if I have to grind on a boy as a rite of passage into the adult world then I’m afraid I’ll be a child forever.