It's About Time, July

Hello, July! Nice to see you again! 

How crazy is it that it is already July? Wasn't it February just yesterday? I'm pretty sure it was... Oh! How time flies when you're busy stuffing your face with Sour Patch Kids, blogging aimlessly about things that people didn't know they wanted to read about, listening to Lana Del Rey on repeat, and losing sleep over things beyond your years! I guess this just means we're this much closer to my 21st birthday extravaganza (aka me getting drunk off half a glass of wine and talking about how my eyes hurt).

Too-da-loo, Arschloch!

With only 6 weeks left of summer, I have decided that it's time to get shit done. I've been sitting on my
butt letting time pass me by like "Adios, Von Trapp Family Singers!" while everyone else seems to be making huge leaps into the great alps of Switzerland to avoid the Nazi troops! I want to take July on with such great vigor that it has no idea what's suddenly ransacked its pantries! I have absolutely no idea what I just said, so I hope someone out there does, by the grace of God. This is what happens when you blog on like no sleep at all. 

Between slaving away at my above minimum wage part-time job and sleeping on Bruce's couch, I've lost track of all that I wanted to accomplish this summer (the stuff I mentioned here). So, I decided to take a ride in my time machine and see how I'm doing on that list.

1. Finish the book I've been reading for the last 2 months (The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, for the curious reader)
2. Dip into my feminine side and do some of those DIY Pinterest craft things (which would require me to actually get a Pinterest account to begin with. Ugh.)
3. Get a job (shut up)
4. Lose 7 pounds / go down a jean size
5. Hit up the library and check out the erotica section and read it in public without an ounce of shame [Oh Past Angela....]
6. Learn to use chopsticks
7. Throw out all the high school stuff I've been hoarding for the last million years
8. Immerse myself in historic Oklahoma culture by doing one of my favorite things: going to museums
9. Find a new song to be stuck on that isn't "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys (♫ Aruba, Jamaica, oooh I wanna take ya..♫)
10. Take it easy

Not so bad, actually! 

As you can see, my expectations are quite low. I'm sure they could be lower, though. 

The funny thing, though, is that I've actually accomplished a lot in the last month and a half that I've been bebopping around this town. You know, things that aren't even on that list above. Things I hadn't even thought about back in mid-May. How strange is it that things happen when you're not waiting for them to happen? 

I think that's just life.

Did I Do That?

Have you ever been talking to someone you've known for a while and then, totally out of the blue, they ask you if you remember a really embarrassing moment that happened a long time ago? That happens to me all the time. I remember pretty much everything that can be considered worth remembering or even worth forgetting, but every once in a while, someone brings up something and I have no idea what they are talking about.

Me: ... and then my toe turned blue and I nearly pissed myself. My life is so cray-cray unbelievable sometimes!
Them: Speaking of your life! Do you remember that time when you snort-farted on that one Thursday in that one class that one year when you were wearing that blue shirt?

Lindsey, it's the crack talking!

Me: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Them: You're shitting me! You've got to remember it! It was a classic Angela moment!
Me: No, I really don't.
Me: Am I being Punk'd?
Me: Do I get to meet Ashton?
Them: What?
Me: What?

So, after that, I'm just obsessed with trying to remember this one moment of my life that, of all the mortifying things that have happened to me, I seem to have repressed from my memory. And that string of thoughts morphs into me thinking about how many other memories I don't remember that someone else remembers and will probably tell stories about without me being aware at all. How many blackmail-worthy memories about me are out there that I don't know about? Probably a million. And when I'm totally famous and have millions of dollars, you just know that ALL of the embarrassing stories are going to come out from under the bed of my life.

I'm not ashamed of my past or the moments that I'd probably love to have never happened. I'm just going to be very pissed if I find out old classmates or best friends are making money off my humiliation. I want to cash-in on that sucker. It's my life, after all! I deserve to be monetizing myself! Who needs prostitution when you can get paid for being totally awkward and clumsy? Don't sell your body, sell your pain!

He looks sad and homeless. What's with
the Eddie Munster hair? It's totally because
of the diabetes. 

And let's face it, I'll probably need the extra cash to pay for my diabetes (pronounced die-uh-beat-us) medication (because y'all know I'm going to totally have high glucose levels for the rest of my life from all the Sour Patch Kids I eat every week) that I'll buy out of pocket because I'll be too lazy to fill out forms for health insurance.

Wait. Where was I going with this? 

Anyway, the lesson here is that you should never leave your house because then there are absolutely no chances of doing anything in the least bit embarrassing where people will actually see you and then proceed to form memories about that embarrassing moment involving you. Also, if you never leave your house, your chances of dying probably go down so that's a bonus! Also, don't sell your body to pay for insulin. It's not worth it. Look how Nick Jonas turned out.

New life goal: Don't become Nick Jonas. Or smoke crack. 

Play Nice, February

Hello, February! I see you've slimmed down some since last year! *leap year jokes!* 

Typically, I'm totally cool with February. Nasty-gourmet-chocolate-everyone-says-tastes-good is in high demand. It's almost always possible to get your hands on those amazing Twilight and One Direction Valentines at the drugstore (I mean, who doesn't want to tell someone they love them with Kristen Stewarts pale-ass face or a random British boy? Seriously.). I get to remember how complicated my nonexistent love life is for a consecutive 28 days. Then, after I've wallowed in self-pity, I'll get to indulge in the gourmet-chocolate Sour Patch Kids that my boyfriend  I got me myself, and we'll live happily-ever-after  then I'll go cuddle with my body pillow. See? February is awesome to me.

So, like every new month, I've set out some goals for myself (because what is life without some fun structured living?)

Credit: http://ohshrubbery.deviantart.com/art/Chocolate-54158604

1. Don't die.That's simple and self-explanatory. 
2. Don't spend all my money on unnecessary band merchandise or t-shirts with clever sayings or quotes from TV shows to compensate for the fact that I am single (We get it, IT'S NOT PENNY'S BOAT!). Ever since I got my debit card, it seems like I just can't keep it in my wallet for very long. I always have this itch to buy things online. Is it my longing to receive things in the mail? Maybe. That's not the point, though. The point is I have a problem, and money doesn't grow on trees. 
3. Don't eat the chocolate! I don't even like chocolate, but, for some reason, when it's around, I eat all the chocolate anyway. It's really sad. What did I ever do to be cursed in such a disgusting way? 
4. Gawk less at attractive people while in public. It's really just not even enjoyable anymore. Like, I get it. You're really good looking, and I have no chance of getting your attention with my messy hair and baggy clothes. Besides, I've got my heart set on bigger things. (Like a really big bag of Sour Patch Kids). I don't need the temptations! Get behind me, Satan!
5. Be weird. Okay, I'll try. It's not going to be easy coming down from such a high pedestal of weirdness, but I'll try. 

In all seriousness, people take February way too seriously. It's a month, not a 28-day-long holiday that allows you to waste your money on chocolate and have lots of sex.


Despite all the commercialism involved with February and Valentine's Day, it's really not any different from any other month of the year. Well, I guess it is slightly better because there are only 28 days, which means fewer days to be bad days, fewer days to get your heart smashed and ripped apart by careless ne'er-do-wells, fewer days to be told by your mother-in-law that you need to hit the gym and lay off the sweets, fewer days to neglect actually working on your New Year resolutions, and fewer days to convince your 15 year-old sister she needs to get her ass to rehab for that unflattering Coke addiction.  February is short, so live your days to the fullest. 


Or you can just continue to do what you're doing and live in fear of actually enjoying your life and feeling good about your choices because it's just easier than getting up off your lazy ass and greeting the world with a badass attitude. That's okay too, I guess.

Also, in honor of February, here's some tasteful music by Josh Groban: