Hey June, Don't Make It Bad

Happy June, lovely readers! Although I have no idea if anything cool happens in June due to the fact that I haven't changed the page of my zombie-themed calendar yet, I'm sure there's something. And, if not, whatever.

Mike Falzone and Coffee Girl

Anywho, lucky me is on a day off from work today, so that pretty much gives me permission to do nothing that can be defined as physical movement. Happy day! In reality, though, I'll probably end up trying to finish unpacking (a chore that seems to have taken me three blissful weeks to complete, mind you) my stuff from college along with cleaning my room while listening to Mike Falzone's podcast "Welcome to the Podcast!" (which you should totally go give a listen because he and his lady are hilarious and it is totally free and available on iTunes! **language warning for the kids**). Actually, none of that will probably happen, but it's nice to think about, ya know? But for now, I'm just going to take some time to write this lovely blog post. Boom!

With the summer heat starting to roar into Oklahoma, I've been hit with a lot of nostalgia. Past summers have typically been pretty nice to me (with exceptions here and there). Concerts of the Jonas Brothers variety (don't judge, just put yo' pom poms down for me), going to the local water park, staying up until who-knows-when and sleeping until never-gonna-happen after drinking energy drinks (Grape NOS and Black Mamba Venom Energy were once the only ways I could pretend to be awake) and having access to the Internet. Smells like summer, right? Oh, the good old days when I didn't have responsibilities or financial burdens. 

Sexxxy

The summer before my freshman year of high school, if I remember well, was actually a pretty decent summer. Despite my constant need to update my at-the-time blog (mentioned in detail here) and fiddle around on Paint Shop Pro, my life wasn't entirely consumed by one thing. That summer was the summer of movies for me. I was fresh out of middle school and still in contact with my close friends
from those torturous years, so we went to the cinema all the time (it probably wasn't actually all the time, but actually like 3 times pfft). Can we all just take a moment of silence for emo Peter Parker in Spider-Man 3? *touches up eyeliner* Okay, we're done with that.  At the time, though, he was the hottest thing in my mind. That summer I also ate a lot of Arby's. I don't even know.

STOP JUDGING ME! YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE!

But the big thing about that summer was the loss of my J-Card. Yup, that was the summer the Jonas Brothers entered my life and stayed a long three years. I can't even remember how exactly I found the Jonas Brothers. Was it that I had their catchy single "Year 3000" on my iPod?  I don't even know. I just know that I was hooked. Here, I'll paint you a picture! I found out they were coming to Tulsa, so I begged for tickets (which had a cost of $27.50 each, btw. That's never going to happen ever again). I wanted a physical copy of their out-of-print debut album so I found a copy on eBay for like $30. They had a new album coming out in August of that year, so you know I had to preorder that ish. Sadly, though, that was probably the cheapest year for my JB obsession.

Man, my life is so sad. 

I'll tell you what pisses me off about that whole JB ordeal, though. At the concert, they did meet-and-greets afterwards and each pass was like $20 (HAHAHAHAHAAH!). I made the biggest mistake of my whole life that night. I decided to not get a M&G pass and instead get a stupid t-shirt and hat! Disastrous, I know! But whatever! 

Life goes on. But, as you can see, I'm still not over it. Never. 

This Is The Song That Never Ends

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up and automatically have a really annoying or shitty song stuck in your head for no apparent reason whatsoever? Like, you literally just opened your eyes and already have a song thumping in the back of your mind?  I have those like every single day of my life. No lie. And it constantly forces me to ask myself "Why was I cursed with this ability to learn music so easily?"

Just the other day, I had a solid minute of John Denver yodeling stuck in my head... all day. Of course, I doubt anyone who reads this will be able to relate to that situation because no one actually knows who John Denver is anymore, but, trust me, it's not the most pleasant thing to have playing in your head while you're trying to conjugate Latin verbs. Just imagine if you had Jason Derulo saying "JAY-SON DE-RULO" in his stupid voice on repeat all day. That was the torture that was John Denver's yodeling.  The funny part is that I actually know the words to the rest of the song... not just the yodeling portion. Of all the segments of this song, my mind chose to cling to the most annoying one! Why, brain, why? 

Yesterday afternoon, my oldest sister, Rachel, texted me telling that she had an obnoxious song stuck in her head. She knew that I would understand her pain, and I did... Because I had The Beach Boy's "Kokomo" (and yes, it is a great song but not when it never ends... ever!) on repeat in my head at that same moment. I think it's because we have the same dad... and he kind of has a history of humming or whistling the same song for like a week. Growing up with that, we were destined to have the same fate.  I know Julia has the bug too. Ya know, the way she belts out into the Les Mis soundtrack or Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" without warning... like she'd been planning it all along or something. 

The worst is when I'm in class and I've got this obnoxious chorus or verse stuck in my head, and I can't help but tap my pen or just full-blown sing aloud the words or music. Sure, I've got a great voice when I really try, but that doesn't always happen. Sometimes it just sounds like screeching, and I don't know
how many times is appropriate to apologize for my musical nature or the fact that I can't stop singing the exact same part of a song at every moment when I don't have anything to actually say. Btw, if I am stuck on a song, I will sing all the parts, so yeah. That's fun. (Nope.)

So, if you ever talk to me or sit next to me in class or at dinner or on a Friday movie night, just know that I probably have my own personal DJ playing in my head. Sure, you can ask what's on the playlist for the day, but I'd strongly advise against that due to the fact that I have very embarrassing taste in music. 

Songs referenced in this blog post:
Calypso by John Denver
Any song ever by Jason Derulo
Bad Romance by Lady Gaga 
Kokomo by The Beach Boys 

Crossin' & Creepin'

Well, do they?

So, my best girl friend who isn't Julia, Darian, likes to constantly keep me in-check with the outrageous things that come out of my mouth. She calls it crossing lines. Sometimes I'm just a toe over the line. Other times, I'm crossing so many lines that it's impossible to keep track. It's important to note that I rarely think about what I am going to say before I say it. That just takes up time that I could be talking and the other person could be responding. Plus, it just keeps people wondering what kind of magical stuff is happening up in my noggin all the time. Like, holy shit, what is this girl going to say next because there is no way she can top that? And, you know, I'd rather be an awkward enigma than a walking, talking computer reading from a socially-accepted script like the rest of society.

I live on the 11th floor of my residence hall (do not call it a dorm. I will go all off on your ass if you do), so my elevator rides normally pick up a stranger or two. This is always fun for me because I can either talk to these people and be a normal, social person, or I can shy away in the corner admiring the luscious ringlets of Heaven flowing from their heads in secret. Sadly for me, I normally don't keep many of these admirations or thoughts to myself.

Me: *in elevator alone praying there aren't any pointless stops*
Elevator: *suddenly stops on a random floor*
My thoughts: Shit.
Stranger: *gets on the elevator equipped with tons of swag*
Me: *notices they have great hair/eyes/legs/shoes/etc*
Me: You have really beautiful eyes.
Stranger: Uh, thanks.
Me: *silent for the rest of the ride* 

Every. Single. Day. Of. My. Life

Back home, at a QuikTrip gas station, there is a guy who works at night, and, without fail, every single time I see him working, I always make a comment about his name tag. See, it says his first name and then his last initial, which is an "S." So, I always ask him if the "S" stands for sexy. I don't know why I do this. This guy isn't even that attractive. It's just an uncontrollable urge.

Sometimes I cross lines with my friends. We'll just be talking about something totally normal, and, like the freak of nature that I truly am all the damn time, I suddenly take the topic one step too far and it just becomes this huge awkward silence of disapproval. They'll just be staring at me like, "Angela, why did you just say that? That was totally uncalled for. ugh. You're ruining our lives."I just feel like a nuisance because I can't truly ever censor myself. Or, if I do censor myself, I just censor the completely wrong thing, so I still say something that I probably could have kept to myself. Or, even worse, I'll just stare at people. I like to observe things that seem so normal to everyone else. Like, people in lines at stores or fast food joints. I'll try not to make it too obvious, but, ya know, if they notice that I'm staring, that's cool.

I don't mean to be such a creep sometimes. It just happens. Like, I can't just change that. I'm a socially-challenged writer. How am I ever supposed to fully understand human interaction unless I standby in the shadows being awkward and saying highly inappropriate things to other people? Simply, I can't.

I'm just a psych evaluation waiting to happen. 

The Julia Diaries

You could scrub a toilet with that hair!

So, my 15 year-old sister, Julia, is kind of a character of sorts. She's this weirdo who is obsessed with Broadway musicals and writing fanfiction about Wicked (the musical, not the book) and making Internet friends in Australia and in the states that no one cares about (Alaska? Really?). She has a social anxiety disorder, so she never leaves the house unless it is to walk to a gas station to buy a 32 oz fountain drink or a Red Bull. She has this totally weird obsession with caffeine and Hot Cheetos. Sometimes I wonder if I'm actually related to her. But, somehow, we're always getting into the weirdest situations when we're together.

Back in July of 2012, she and I took a trip to New York City for a few days with our aunt. On the way there, we had a connecting flight in Memphis, Tennessee. So, Julia and I are totally awkward in public, so we're standing by a wall in the airport when suddenly we decide to have a totally way-too-inappropriate moment with each other. I don't know exactly what we were doing... Maybe just dancing? She was singing a sexual song, I think. Something about doing a little bump and grind, maybe? Then, suddenly, this guy who we swore was Jesus Christ walks by and gives us a look. Then he says the coolest thing we had ever heard: "You do what you got to do." I'm pretty sure we lost our shit at that. Also, this guy was on our flight to NYC, so we were unsure if that was a good or bad omen for the flight.

Julia and her all-time favorite novel

Oh and then there was the time I came home while the Tulsa State Fair was in town. I'd abandoned her that day because red shoes needed to be bought, so I tried to make it up to her by somehow convincing my best friend buy her a Coke and Rolos. So, we get back to my house, and we're standing out by the curb and trying to get her to come to get her goodies. After like half an hour of trying to persuade her, she finally comes out. Everything is cool but then.... things got a little ghetto.

This car (probably one of those cars with extra speakers in the trunk and a hydraulics system installed) filled with really suspicious-looking African-American gentleman pulls up next to us. We're kind of blocking part of the street at this point, but my best friend is like a millimeter away from this car passing, and he has no intention of moving his feet out of the way.

Best friend: *makes somewhat uncalled for comment about car of thugs passing by*
Ghetto thug car: *backs that thang up*
Ghetto thug car driver: Huh? What you say? We straight?
Julia and me: YES!!! WE STRAIGHT! WE ARE TOTALLY STRAIGHT!!
Ghetto thug car: *continues on down the road*

It's safe to say that that is the moment Julia and realized how straight we truly were. 

Did someone say "mustache?"

The coolest thing about Julia that can't be explained? Her instant popularity with all my friends at college. I'm still SO confused as to why these 20 year-old's think she is like the coolest person who ever lived. They think she's hilarious because she has the whole "I don't give a shit. L'chaim!" thing about her that kind of makes everyone want in on her secret club (that, let's face it, I'm the only member of). They see her interests and addictions and are just blown away by how rounded she is.

Maybe it's the way she cries at Robin Williams movies or the way she can belt out all the words to all the songs in Les Miserables. Maybe it's how she went to high school for one day and decided she was never going back (sounds like one of Taylor Swift's relationships!). Maybe it's the way she can comeback with the best lines in an argument. I don't know.

Julia might be a total weirdo who doesn't leave the house but manages to talk to strange Alaskans on the Internet, but she's still pretty cool. She's got big dreams and no ambition, but I know that she'll one day use all her quirks and unorthodox habits to become whatever she decides to be when the time comes. There's just something about Julia..... and I don't think anyone can really put a finger on it.