I'm Wanted

These headphones are too big for my ears. I really dislike when ear-buds just rest in the outside edge of your ear. I feel like the music escapes too much around the openings. I much prefer in-ear headphones. I find that the bass is much more impressive and the sound quality in general is far superior.

...Obviously not as superior as these home-made headphones by the hunky intellectual badasses.

MY TECHNOLOGY BRINGS ALL THE NERDS TO THE COMPUTER LAB. AND THEY'RE LIKE, IT'S BETTER THAN HERS. -SNORT- RIGHT. IT'S BETTER THAN HERS. I CAN TEACH YOU, BUT I'D HAVE TO USE MY INHALER FIRST.

Speaking of inhalers, I've discovered something about myself. I have Asthma. Yeah, you see, blog readers, a few years ago I used to try to run around the block. Unfortunately, I was about five million pounds and couldn't seem to drag my whale body around the paved roads. I blamed the stress on my lungs on that very fact. So the other day I decided that I was no longer as whale-ish and should attempt to complete the task that I never was able to.

And I did it.

I ran around the block (and yeah, it's not that far, maybe a third of a mile). I was able to do it! My body was able to run around the block without the terrible stresses or vomit that I would have to endure before.

With that said.

About half way around I realized my lungs started to burn. I ignored it because I was in the zone. I was also listening to Daft Punk, "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" and was very motivated. As I continued the run, the burning started to get progressively worse to the point where I had to slow down. I never stopped though. I rounded the corner to the long stretch home. So of course, I sprinted. By the time I got to my driveway, I was tasting blood in the back of the throat, my lungs were on fire, and the tightness in my throat was beginning to be prominent.

I walked through the door and realized that it was a mistake to be so driven to finish the run. For the next hour my lungs burned, and with every breath I took it was more pain being injected to the area. Within minutes of stopping the run my throat almost completely closed up. I don't know a different way to explain it other than having to breathe through one of those "Capri Sun" straws. I also had that nostalgic feeling of having to throw up, mostly because the pain was unbearable.

Luckily it did subside eventually. The only reminder of the event was the terrible mucus that accumulated in my lungs, and decided to stay there for DAYS after. It was pretty terrible to have to breathe and hear the rattling of my insides. I had such a terrible cough that after about three days my mother asked me if I was smoking. I would have been all sarcastic and say "AAWWWWWWWW YEAHH" but then she'd take it literally and kill me. I can't tell her of my asthma, mainly because I'd be forced to explain to her that I ran around the block.

Running around the block is illegal in my house because I'm not allowed out of it. So, I'll just wait until I'm eighteen in ten months and go to the doctor's then. I also have to get my thyroid checked. My birth-mom and her mom (and darn near the whole family) have thyroid problems. They were all pretty fat too, before they got their pills for it and lost a lot of weight. That's why I'm hopeful for the future; I'll get all this fixed.

Anything that can go wrong will? Yeah thanks Murphy.

So so so popular. Check out how popular I am. People come from long and far to read my words. The pressure's on to be a real stand up comic.

... I've got nothing.

So Donald Trump might be running for president. This makes me very interested in politics all of a sudden.

"We interrupt this broad-cast of 'Rare Native-American Instruments of the 18th Century' for a message from your leader, President Trump."

I would absolutely love to watch all that comb-over making a speech on the future of our country in his Trump accent... or Traccent, as I like to say. I'm curious as to what he'd do as president.

Trump check-list ... or.... "Trumist For Check-Trumping," as I like to say.

1- Gain American's trust
2- Fire everyone
3- Invest in war efforts new sciences on hair growth
4- Learn the native tongue of the Navajo Code Talkers

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, GIVE IT UP FOR THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES

What Are The Differences?

Everyone gets down in the dumps sometimes. Sometimes something can trigger a certain sadness that really has no obvious origin. In extreme cases this can drag out for long periods of time and become what doctors call "depression." It's difficult to spot, She's heard. When She's feeling a dragging sadness that lasts for what feels like forever, it's hard to not think of the medical alternative. However, after the episode, She questions the strength and liability of the event. She hates questioning Her own honesty to Herself. Talking about it just feels like She's whining about useless things; normally it is useless. Something insignificant can be the one thing to send Her down. When "down" She has no control of what She feels. Sometimes things are clearer to Her, sometimes everything is a million miles away through a fog. Her best art work comes from the deepened state of mind. Isn't it terrible that She has to be depressed to create something She's proud of?

She's struggled with this internal wreckage since She was a kid. At the time, She was unaware of what it really was, and expressed it through anger. Now She holds it in. She feels it simmer inside Her all the time. Even when times are going well, there's just a tang of being helpless within Her thoughts. It takes so much effort to make it go away for an event.

People don't like the depressed. They don't accept them. And why should they? We're no fun to be around. She's created a public profile. A face, if you will, that She can carry throughout the day to make Herself merge into society. She jokes, She laughs, She smiles. But She also remembers.

There are times for Her to feel genuinely okay. And for a matter of days, sometimes weeks, She can shove the hurt away. And right when She thinks that She's defeated this monster, it devours Her. And for days, sometimes weeks, after that, She's being sucked of energy. Her body is tired. Her mind is restless. She sleeps too often, as if to escape, only to dream of it and feel it's grip on Her. Tears well up behind Her closed eyelids. She decides to avoid sleep and the hell that goes with it. All that does is drain her.

During rehearsal, the energy She has to crank out to not only act onstage, but also to be the social person everyone likes and adore is so demanding.So when that person that She's working on the production with looks at Her when She's off guard and exhausted, forgetting to hide Her saddness, and that person says "Can you please just, STOP?"

She get's mad.

If She could "just stop" She would, okay? She's sorry that this inconveniences you.  She's sorry that she forgot to play the roll of Herself for you. She's sorry that she can't live up to the expectation everyone else holds for Her. And She's sorry that you can't see what She's dealing with, because if you could? You wouldn't be snapping your hypocritical oppinions at Her. She thought that the your marks would indicate that you understood what She felt. But you don't. She wasn't talking about it to you. She wasn't begging for your sympathy. And She wasn't doing the one thing that makes Her the most angry; pretending to feel this way. So. Many. People. Pretend. They pretend to be depressed. They pretend that they're hurting. What for? So they can get sympathy and attention. Anyone who struggles with it knows there is no needed sympathy. They want to be alone. So those pretenders, who act the part for maybe a three day span (if they're really dedicated), give it a derogatory twist. It's already bad enough. So go be sad, hurt, or angry. Be anything but the term "depressed," because attention whoring and momentary sadness is not it. Don't brag about it. Depressed people don't want to be depressed. And newsflash? They CAN get mad. They're not pushovers all the time. She gets pissed. She gets so angry with everything. She never speaks about it. She never retaliates.

She tried to fix Her imperfections. She just wanted to be normal in a crowd, but extraordinary when examined. In turn She successfully ruined Her self image and didn't even accomplish Her original goals.

Given a second chance She probably would have done it all again.

And that's the part that gets to Her the most.

It's Addicting

Dubstep is actually pretty awesome. It's not "techno," it's way more intense. Although techno is also awesome in its own way, dubstep really quenches my thirst for a good beat and interesting treble scenes. One of the best bands to find this godly music? Skrillex. Check them out. I've been addicted to them for months. The guy that makes the music (Sony Moore) has a specific style. An avid listener will be able to listen to a song of his and automatically know that's his work. He's done some mixes of popular songs like "Bad Romance," which is a risky choice considering if you mess up a popular song that all the norms listen to, you're career and credibility are done.

The current song I'm loving is "Weekends" by Skrillex. Very, very nice. It can make anyone dance.

I'm not always in the mood for dance music. I mean, I'm one who can appreciate and enjoy a song with meaningful lyrics (like Friday), but constant philosophical and inspirational music can grow old too. I have yet to find a dance-song with actual lyrics that mean anything.

That's why I'm content with having varied music on my iPod.

Dubstep --> Oldies --> Metals (of all kinds) --> Techno --> Slow and Meaningful --> Completely useless

Yeah. Those are all legit styles.

You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive

I wonder about dying sometimes. Not in an odd "I'm into death and guns and being sorry for myself" way, just, "what happens?" Growing up in an extremely difficult "religion" to escape, anyone in the family would refer me to their version of the Bible. I don't consider myself part of their religion, but I'm not about to dismiss the initial concept of God either. Mainly because I honestly don't know. I'd like to think that there's someone, somewhere looking out for me and helping the world be a better place. Personally, I think that it's completely up to the person to decide if they want to believe, and when they believe, their form of "God" appears. Someone who is bound and determined to disprove any "power from above" will never change and believe. (Unless some life changing trauma happens and that makes them change their outlook.) To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what to think about any of this. I don't want to be apart of the religion the family's in. The mind set is the most sexist, annoying, and illogical set of ideas I've ever seen. "God" is one thing. "Religion" is another.

I had this really awesome conversation with a good friend a while back. We concluded that, long ago, people needed a way to control mass amounts of people. So they put "God" in their eyes as a means of control. It was never questioned, and always reinforced. After centuries past, people started to attain the ability to make money and live on their own. They got to thinking about the concept of "God" and started to doubt it. Then the powerful people made up something more powerful than even God.





Money.







To be honest, I don't want to upset anyone. I just blab my thoughts and hope people agree.

Titles are for squares.

And I, sir, am most definitely NOT a square.

Goats are pretty awesome. I like goats. We should get together sometime and talk about goats.

Remember when we were kids and our advisers used to force the laws we must abide to down our throats? I was thinking about how illogical they are. Perhaps it's my teenage rebelliousness, but rules from childhood are more often than not proven to be useless.

Simple rules like "look both ways before crossing the street" are pretty good. But those are just common sense.

I'm talking about the ones that are created by parents with special interests to control their kids for life. One of the most common broken rule that I've noticed around my peers is the one about virginity. "Keeping it until marriage" they always used to say in elementary school. And especially if one comes from a generally over-religious family, that sentence is constantly awarded. But when kids hit high school, and even some in middle school, start realizing that they have the power to please, they suddenly forget their mom and dad's teachings and just go out with who ever they want. Parents that continue to reinforce their abstinence mind set on their kids, actually force them to go out and rebel faster. Then the parents get suspicious and angry and start making ridiculous requests, allowing the parents to lose credibility and sanity in the kids' eyes, so they don't actually listen to the parents any more.

And that's how babies are made.

Luckily for me, I have not had to deal with all of this. I'm about as much of a hermit as one can get.

I really don't go anywhere. I'm always either at home or at school.

I really wish I'd go out for a walk or something. It really has been nicer lately outdoors.

But I'm always confined inside.
  

I Have To Be More Interesting

I've been informed that I might have a narration voice? Cool. Blogging? I honestly never thought I'd be a "blogger." It's just kind of a giant whine bag of a web site. But guess who's a hypocrite?

MMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

So. I guess I'm going to start blogging now...

What to blog about? I mean, what is the real point of a blog? Besides whining, ranting, and feeding into ones conceded nature? I guess everyone on the internet will get to know me. That's actually pretty terrifying. I'll have to be virtually anonymous; no more information than what I'd put on a greeting card for your co-worker's baby shower. Just my first name and general information, where stalkers can't find me. Ah who am I kidding. Stalkers wouldn't stalk me! I'm not interesting. I'm not even counting on one person subscribing to my blog. But hey? If I get an audience this could be the first time in history that a mass group of people are interested in what I have to say!

Well, subscribers, I'll let you get to know me. Wait, no. I can't have you be called "subscribers." That's too professional. I'll call you... Minions? Puppets? Not followers... that's cliche. I kind of like minions.

Well, MINIONS, the name's Bre. But you can call me "Dearest Overlord" for short.

I really like cats. I have cats. I like the odor of cats. I had a cat suit. Sometimes I would dress up as a cat. And Meow. As a cat. But then, I grew out of my cat suit. And resorted to growing out my body hair... and pretending to be a cat. Meow...

That was a joke.

I'm more of a dog person.

I have dry humor. It comes in handy when talking to Brits. Dark humor is also a wonderful asset to have when talking to foreigners.

I don't get the point of love letters. Yes, a long while ago they were romantic. Written with the beautiful calligraphy of a feather dipped gently in ink and gracefully drawn on a page in the light of an oil lamp. Back in the day people's feelings were foreign, and saying lines like "I live for you" or "you're my air" or "love at first sight" was unheard of, and made the unsuspecting women fall in love. But today? With the resources we have? The Hollywood references? Everything you could possibly say in a love letter has already been done. Everything magical about love has been dissolved and exposed. We don't even hand write anything anymore. I have never, and will never, receive a love letter hand written. The closest thing I'd find is probably "hey u r kool wanna go out with me on a date 2night?" in a message on facebook.

There's not a whole lot of wooing in my life.

I guess that's it for today, minions.

Quarter Four, number one.

Wow, Friday was busy. I had to do a lot of presenting and performing. O.O

In your class, actually, was the beginning of it. I had to present my project on school vouchers, which went okay. I didn't gather the intensity your smart board would put on my obnoxious movements in Prezi. Toward the end of my visual roller coaster, I added a lot of back and fourth movements. It looks really cool on a computer screen, but on the large plane? Wow. It would have been sickening. So I made a (literally) last second decision to manually click on the places for the last few "slides." Obviously the clicker was sensitive to different areas, making the last twenty seconds or so very messy and ending abruptly. With all that going on, I realized I spoke too fast the entire presentation. I had my timing down to around seven minutes at home, and even when I presented for Cassie and Melissa. But when I got up there I just plowed through everything I rehearsed to say. Figures. I have no idea what my time was, but I'm guessing it's not too long. >_>

However, I was happy to see that peoples' responses were generally good. I'd give it a good.... 56% of people that said "You weren't nervous at all!"

Which made me giggle because I was so nervous my knees were shaking. I'd probably fall over if I tried to walk around during the presentation.

Anyway. So then after school I had auditions for Footloose. (which I'd been fretting about for over a week, and maybe even contributed to my nervousness in English...) I went third in auditioning. I didn't even have my lines in hand until I walked through the door because I was so early on in the event. I had just learned my auditioning song the night before. A High School Musical song actually. Everyone asked what song I chose. Lol, I never answered. This is why.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znLmkH6H7Vs

Don't listen to the whole thing. Your ears will commit suicide. Her voice is so whiney and annoying.

Anyway. So the audition went on. I tried out for the lead, Ariel, and also for the second lead, Rusty. (Ariel's best friend) I knew I wasn't going to get either one, but I figured "shoot for the lead and be happy with what you land."

The hardest part was reading from a paper that I had never seen before and be expected to give the emotion that's needed for the part. It's the Crucible all over again.

But apparently I did okay.














OKAY ENOUGH TO GET THE LEAD.