I'm Hungry

So I just took a final.  That was really fun...  Anyway, now I am sitting here in my dorm room waiting until a time that is more socially acceptable for going to get lunch.  I feel like anything before 11:30 is not ok.  Maybe I made this standard up.  Probably.  But either way, I am currently writing this blog to distract myself for the next 30 minutes from the fact that my stomach is literally about to eat itself.  Zombie stomach.  But, being that I am really using my blog right now to waste some time, I don't actually have anything witty to say.  So what do I talk about then?  My test?  The fact that I have no clean clothes left because I am trying to hold out on laundry until I go home tomorrow?  My current obsession with Hunter Hayes?  My love life?  No.  None of these will do.  Although I am sure my love life sounded like an interesting option, you will be disappointed to know that I don't have one, and therefore, it would be an empty blog.  I mean I guess I could write a blog on my lack of love life.  But then I might start to sound a little too Taylor Swift.  No offense.  I'm all about that "I Knew You Were Trouble" song.  Catchy.  Anyway, I am really excited for lunch today.  I'm going to get a personal pizza.  Yum.  I have this friend who calls grilled cheese sandwiches "cheese toasties" and apparently all the people where he is from call them that.  I know that is totally irrelevant but I thought it was interesting.  It seems like maybe this blog is going to have no focus.  That is ok I guess.  Although if you are still reading this I feel kind of bad that you are wasting so much time on it.  You can stop at anytime.  I won't be offended.  I won't even know actually.  Unless you tell me.  Have you ever felt so hungry that you considered eating un-popped popcorn because you don't have a microwave and you are defrosting your mini fridge so you don't have any real snacks left?  Too specific?  This is awkward...  Hey would you look at that!  It is 11:04.  I think I will stretch my rule about acceptable lunch times and go eat.  Also, did I just successfully write a blog about not knowing what to write my blog about?  Wow.  As Alanis Morissette would say, "Isn't it ironic."  

The Final Exam

Before I get started, I would like to make an announcement.  When discussing my whole "Alpaca-lypse" idea with my friends today, my friend thought of Barack Ollama.  Get it?  Because Alpacas would be running the government?  Funny.  That is all I have to say about that.

So anyway.  With finals just around the corner, (and by around the corner I mean my first one starts in roughly 55 minutes) I have gotten to thinking.  Scary right?  Only weird things could come from that.  But what I realized is that we are literally constantly being tested or testing others.  We get tested in school to see if we know how to cram as much information into our brains the night before to get a passing grade.  Oh, I mean, those tests are to see how much we have learned... that is totally what finals do... Suuuper accurate representations...  But we test ourselves and others in all kinds of other ways too.  I test myself to see how long I can put off doing things before I get so stressed that the thought of not doing them compels me to get it done.  We test our friends and "significant others" to see if they will do what we want them to do.  Like, "I am NOT going to text that guy today because I want to see if he will actually make the effort or not."  Don't deny it.  You know you do it, even if you don't mean to.  Don't worry.  It happens to the best of us.  We get tested to see if we can drive. We test our stomachs on Thanksgiving.  We test our nail polish to see if it is dry.  We test our Christmas lights.  We test our parent's patience.  We test our children's patience.  (I don't have children... but I know.)  So here is the question.  What in the world are we doing?  Why so many tests?  I have literally never met a person who likes them.  So why do we keep testing each other?  I mean ok, I can understand testing your Christmas lights because it is just so annoying to put them all up and then have them not work.  That is probably in the top ten most annoying first world problems list.  And I can even understand driving tests, and ok maybe finals.  But not cumulative ones.  Those are dumb.  Don't give those.  But why do we test each other in social situations?  If you want something, just ask for it.  Quit trying to make your friends and family and everyone fail these tests that they don't even know they are taking! Honestly, I think I test people a lot more than I realize so I'm going to try to see if I can do this too.  Hopefully I will pass.

Priorities

Do you know what I am terrible at doing?  If you guessed food eating contests, ballet, making casual non-awkward conversation with strangers, or resisting chocolate chip cookies, you would be completely right.  Or, if you are just super observant and thought, she is going to say prioritizing because that is the title of this post, then you are wrong.  No you aren't.  I just thought you needed to be taught a lesson for acting so arrogant as if you know my life.  Wow.  That escalated quickly.  Anyway, I am terrible at prioritizing.  For instance, I am currently writing a blog post instead of studying for finals which start Tuesday.  That should make you guys feel good about yourselves.  I am prioritizing your obvious happiness which will result from seeing that I once again have blogged about nothing so that you could read it, over my future.  You are welcome.  As if that wasn't enough proof that I am bad at prioritizing, think about this blog.  The moment I came to college, a place crawling with blog-able experiences, I stopped blogging because I got distracted.  I literally forgot that this even existed for the past 5-ish months.  Rude.  Sorry about that guys.  I know how devastating it must have been.  Day after day, week after week, checking this blog, hoping and praying that I posted, and continuously being disappointed.  Don't worry.  I don't think that actually ever happens.  But it makes me feel better about myself so just play along.  Anyway, with the ever quickly approaching "Apocalypse," (which I really hope is an "Alpaca-lypse" where wild Alpacas take over the government.  Wouldn't that be funny to see?  Like an Alpaca election... no?  too weird?  Ok.  I will end these parentheses now then...)  Like I was saying, with the so called "end of the world" approaching so soon, I started thinking.  I don't actually believe the world is going to end, but what if it did?  Would I be happy with the life I have gotten to live?  Thats when I realized that I absolutely fail at prioritizing.  Ok maybe I don't "absolutely fail" but I am not great at it.  I think I need to remember what is most important to me and who it is I want to be.  The truth is, I am happy with how my life has gone.  I am surrounded by people that I love, I have so much to be thankful for and I have gotten to do some really awesome things.  But when it comes down to it, I need to remember to nurture those relationships, to actually be grateful for things and to not get so caught up in the little stuff.  So as we all start hoarding canned goods and building bomb shelters in our backyards or whatever people do that freak out about this stuff, lets remember whats most important to us, and prioritize those important things over all the hoopla that distracts us every other day.  

Thoughts at 12:17am

I am going to be 21 in 2 months and 26 days.  How weird is that?  Can you believe it?  I can't.  Sometimes I feel like life is just flying by.  It literally feels like just yesterday when I was drawing unicorns in chalk on my driveway with my friend Anna and then pretending to ride them around the backyard. (I had a weird childhood.)  Anyway, sometimes when I stay up to late, I start thinking, and then I get all nostalgic about my childhood and how it is basically coming to an end.  I am truly entering young adulthood.  I mean, technically I did last year... but whatever.  I'm still in transition.  You would think they would have some sort of ceremony, or a class, or something.  But no.  They just throw you in head first.  Like learning how to jump off the diving board. And then suddenly, people start treating you differently.  It is like the moment you first hear your mom say a cuss word.  And everything you once thought was true seems like a lie.  And you start questioning everything you have ever learned.  Is the sky really blue?  Does a giant, scary bird really drop babies off on the front porch?  Does it really only take three licks to get to the center of a tootsie pop?  That is how it feels to enter "young adulthood."  All of the sudden, people stop looking at you as some crazy kid, and just assume you do adult things.  And you get the whole, I am not going to treat you like a kid but there is still no way I am giving you the respect of someone who is an adult thing.  And then, people start asking you if you have any kids.  I mean I get it.  Teen Mom didn't become a popular show for no reason.  It is out there.  But they are asking me as if I am of age to have been married for a while with toddlers running around at home.  NO!  I am a young adult.  Key word being young.  I don't even have a boyfriend.  (If you have any young, single, attractive friends with desirable traits, send them this way!  Although I am still holding out for a Tom Felton or an Andrew Garfield...)  Anyway, this random late night rant desperately needs to come to an end.  So here it is, my completely un-creative conclusion to this random, probably totally uninteresting topic.  Transitions = Not fun.

Remember that time...

Remember that time I forgot about this blog for a whole month?  That was sad wasn't it?  Almost as sad as the final episode of "Friends."  Almost as sad as the fact that the Harry Potter books and movies are over.  Almost as sad as the time my guinea pig died of heat exhaustion because we forgot to bring it's cage back inside when we were giving it some fresh air. Wow.  That is a lot of sadness.  I need to change the subject before everyone starts crying. (And by everyone, I mean the small few who read this blog.  And the even smaller few who read this blog that also love the show Friends, the Harry Potter series and female guinea pigs named Elvis.)  Anywho! You know what isn't sad?  Drive-in movies. Unless of course, you are going to see a sad movie.  Or you have some tragic/unhappy memory of a bad drive-in experience that you have subconsciously associated with all drive-ins, making you loath the drive-in completely.  That happened to me once.  Not with drive-ins though.  With a local pizza place.  I got the flu after I ate there.  Now whenever I think of that place, I remember the flu.  It ruined it.  Life has never been the same...  What was I talking about? Yes!  Drive-ins!  I went to my first drive-in movie last night.  It was so fun!  Why did people ever stop going to them?  What is wrong with you people?  Have you no souls?  Drive-ins are the bomb-dig!  They are the french onion dip to Lays ruffles!  They are the cherry on top of a banana split!  They are the abs of a super hot, ripped Olympic swimmer as he charges to the finish to win the gold! (side-note: Why does Micheal Phelps always smack himself before the race?  Is it a mating call?  Because it's working.)  So what am I trying to say to you?  First, I have a new found respect for swimmers.  Second, go to the drive-in.  Just do it.  Tonight.  Or tomorrow.  Preferably Wednesday.

Heat Advisory

Have you ever noticed that people get seriously crazy during heat advisories?  If you haven't, they do.  Today, there is a heat advisory in the lovely state of Indiana.  Not that it really is all that shocking.  If you don't know about Indiana weather, it is completely unpredictable.  One minute it is a beautiful day, the next it is a massive thunderstorm.  Then the next day, you wake up to snow on the ground.  I'm not exaggerating.  At all.  One year, it snowed on my sister's birthday. My sister's birthday is in May.  Anyway, today there is a heat advisory.  And let me just tell you, people are crazy.  Not like eating other people crazy (that was sooo last month...almost).  No, they are just crazy. Want an example?  No?  Well here it is anyway.  On my drive home today a woman walked across a busy intersection during rush hour.  She literally just walked across. Didn't look to see if cars were coming, which they were.  She just walked right across.  Feeling a little entitled today ma'am?  Apparently.  Because last I checked, car beats human in rock, paper, scissors.  But apparently you don't follow those rules.  Maybe it's the whole Avengers kick that everyone is on right now.  Maybe, like me, she has spent the whole week at VBS and was feeling the "crossing the Red Sea" story.  If that is the case, she should be informed that the cars are not being parted for her to get over to Walgreens.  Plus, why is she in such a hurry?  Walgreens is open 24 hours a day.  Maybe, and probably, it is just the heat.  Either way, look both ways before crossing the street lady.  It is Kindergarten 101.  And for all those of you here in Indiana, be cautious during this heat advisory.  I'm not just talking about "not doing strenuous activities outside, or not leaving people or pets in cars."  I'm talking about be cautious for any of the heat crazy people.  They are out there.  So be warned.

#RetiredGuyProblems

So for a while now, we have been trying to convince Dad A to start a twitter account called "Retired Guy Problems." (For reference:  I have 4 parents so we have conveniently labeled them by the letters of their last names. Mom and Dad A, Mom and Dad B.)  Anyway, Dad A has been retired for a little while now and I just can't help but think that Retired Guy Problems is a must.  Seriously.  But he will not budge on the topic.  So.  I have taken it upon myself to tell you a few of them now.  Because I think at least the small, probably minuscule portion of the world that reads my blog should get to hear them.  These are real life.  And funny.  I am going to write them tweet style.  Here we go:


"Hey, don't use all the tea.  I am almost out. #RetiredGuyProblems"
"All these bras get tangled up in the rest of the laundry.  It is a pain to untangle. #RetiredGuyProblems"
"Did you check to make sure the green light wasn't on before you put those dishes in the dishwasher? #RetiredGuyProblems"
"What time is dinner tonight because I want to go hit a few golf balls and won't be back until 7. #RetiredGuyProblems"
"I just don't want to have to play my guitar all afternoon, so I think I will go for a bike ride.  #RetiredGuyProblems"
"Could you get the laundry out of the dryer?  Because I really want to go for a walk. #RetiredGuyProblems"




See what I mean?  They are wonderful.  Alright.  That is all I have for you today.


"Off to the pool.  Just wishing it wasn't so hot outside... #MiddleClassGirlProblems"

Public Service Announcement

Dear girls who wear underwear as pants, please stop.  I mean I get it.  It happens to the best of us.  You wake up in the morning, you are tired, and you accidentally grab your jean underwear instead of real pants.  Classic mistake.  Except for when it isn't.  Which, so you know, is all the time.  I mean, honestly, once they came out with those pull-ups that look like jean material we were all doomed.  If babies can wear jean underwear as clothes, why can't we?  Maybe that is what your thought process was this morning when you decided that the jean shorts that cup your tuchus like glad wrap on a bowl of pasta salad, were a good choice of pants for the day.  If it was, you should know, that it is not o.k.  Honestly, why did you even put shorts on?  If you were going to show your tush anyway, you might as well have just put on your underwear and headed out for the day.  And fyi, it isn't flattering!  This is why we made shorts in the first place!  So you wouldn't be walking around in your underwear.  Because, as shocking as this may be to you, people don't want to see your butt hanging out from underneath the hem of your pants.  And now, I am forced to sit here in my room, wondering why I had to have the misfortune of unwillingly seeing your posterior just because I wanted to go to a nice dinner with my family.  (And side-note, there is no need to dress up like Pop Star Barbie to go to dinner at a bar and grill.  Leave the sequin mini dress and platforms at home!  This is a family establishment!)  So this is my PSA for the day.  Ladies, please put on some shorts that don't resemble my baby cousin's pull-ups.  Do you really want your shorts to look like the underpants children who pee on themselves have to wear?  I didn't think so.

Introvert-Alert

I am a total introvert.  No seriously.  And to some people, it doesn't make sense because I love to talk.  I mean I have a blog.  Clearly I like to be the center of attention sometimes.  I was always confused too.  How could one person both love to spend time in groups AND be introverted at the same time?  But then I realized, it isn't necessarily whether you are loud or not that makes you introverted, it is where you get your energy from.  So no.  The fact that I am an introvert doesn't mean that I spend all day cooped up in my house wearing dark hoodies and sweatpants, playing video games and reading Fantasy novels in the dark corners of my basement, secretly plotting my take over of the world.  Clearly my previous view of introverts was a little extreme and completely unrealistic.  I mean, ok, sometimes I do put on my grungy sweats and play video games or read a book or listen to music in my basement... But its not the same.  The good thing is, I was wrong about what being an introvert means!  I can be an introvert and love to spend time with other people.  I just get my energy from spending time alone.  I guess after a while of being around a lot of people, I get worn out   A friend of mine asked me recently (by recently, I mean literally within a few hours ago.  Congrats Hunter, if you read this, you made it in my blog! Woo!  And inspired the whole topic of it!) Anyway, he asked me what I do during all my alone time.  Well, I read and play music and watch movies and exercise and listen to music and write blogs... Honestly though, half the time I am not even really sure what I am doing.  It is like a time warp.  It's just a jump to the left.  And then a step to the right. (Sorry.  Quick Rocky Horror musical interlude right there.)  It is like a time warp.  One minute I am sitting down to play the Sims and the next second, I look to the clock to find it has been hours.  Or I think, maybe I will just read a book.  And then hours later I realize I have been sitting in the dark reading because the sun went down and I didn't even notice.  Maybe I'm just really spacey...  Who knows. In reality, I don't think it really even matters what I do, as long as I have time to relax and de-stress from having so many people around to entertain.  I think it would probably be good for anyone to do every once and a while actually.  So grab your ipod and a good book and cuddle up in a blanket on the couch sometime.  It is worth it.  Just don't end up like a hermit, contained to your bedroom, whose only social life consists of asking virtual elves for help on journeys in a fictional, mystic world, still living in your parent's house at the age of 45, working part-time at the nearest Game Stop.

Famous

Sometimes, I just get this fleeting desire to be famous.  I also sometimes get a fleeting desire to eat Twizzlers which I normally hate.  But I didn't really think I could write a whole blog about Twizzlers.  Maybe I could... Maybe I will make that happen.  Do you want me to?  Good thing I can't hear your response or else you might tell me no and then I wouldn't be able to.  Any-who, I have this fleeting desire to be famous.  And by fleeting, I mean it started in the first grade and is still going.  You see, when I was just a young, extremely awkward looking, very shy, yet way more confident than I had reason to be 1st grader, I wanted to be a singer.  I wanted to get up on stage and belt out the jams.  At this age the "jams" were all oldies tunes because I was too young to have radio control in the mini-van.  But despite my strange knowledge of songs dating before my birth, I wanted to be a singer.  Of course, I then saw the movie Selena and thought all singers were killed so I stopped having that dream, but it came back to me later on in life.  I still want that dream.  My pure lack of real singing talent prevents this of course, although it doesn't stop me from singing literally all the time.  I am sort of like one of those cards that plays music.  Every time my mouth is open, I am singing.  And it is normally the same few songs over and over.  None of this is important.  What is important is that for some strange reason, I have this secret (except for now it is on the internet so it will never go away ever).  I secretly just want to be famous.  This is usually ignited when I see a good movie with an especially attractive male lead.  But nevertheless, it is true.  Maybe that is why I have this blog.  Its like my little slice of fame except for the fact that basically only my family members or close family friends read it.  I like to just ignore that idea and pretend I have celebrity followers like Zac Efron or Chase Crawford who read this blog and think "Wow.  What a unique, witty, beautiful, inspiring, hilarious, amazing woman.  I think I want to marry her."  This is my dream, ok?  So just play along.  And also, I would really like some Twizzlers.

Anti-Photogenic

I hate photogenic people.  They make me so mad.  Why,  you ask?  Jealousy.  I am straight up hulking it out, green with envy over here.  Which makes it really hard to type because my giant green hulk fingers don't fit on this tiny keyboard.  But that is not the point.  I don't actually think there is a point.  But if there is, that is not it.  You see, every day I stand in front of the mirror and attempt to make myself look less like Miley Cyrus' much poorer, less stylish, un-famous half-cousin.  It is a hard job let me tell you.  And I like to think that I succeed.  Just like the band LMFAO, I work out.  And I put make-up on... most of the time.  Ok yes, I don't really brush my hair on a daily basis but its curly!  It would look even worse if I did.  That might just be an excuse.  Oh well.  The fact of the matter is, even if I look at myself in the mirror and think, "Wow!  This is the best I have ever looked!" when I get a picture taken of me and see it later, I look like a sheepdog with really humanistic features.  There is always something.  Sometimes, you get me at an angle that makes my nose look 10 miles long.  Other times, my shirt falls weird and I look pregnant.  And no matter how much make-up I put on, I still look like a 15 year old.  You can never see it.  I look like I just woke up from a long nap.  And I am not talking about the way Hollywood portrays waking up from a nap.  You know, when your hair looks perfect and somehow your eyeliner isn't smeared down your face like you have been crying for eight hours.  No, I look like what people actually look like when they wake up from a nap.  So yes.  I hate photogenic people.  I am actually anti-photogenic people.  Because they ruin it for all the rest of us.  And then I end up being that person.  You know.  The one you look up on facebook to show your friends but then you can't find a single good picture of them so you start backpeddling like, "well they don't normally look like this." or "her hair isn't actually as large as the empire state building."  Yeah.  I know you know what I am talking about.  So I say, we ban all photogenic people from having their picture taken.  Are you with me?

These Are My Confessions

So I have a confession.  I wasn't sure if I was going to go public with this.  It is pretty personal and could ruin my reputation, I am sure of it.  But here it is.  I can't believe I am saying it.  I have gained a new love of the band One Direction.  I know, I know.  How could I go to the dark side like that?  But the whole "What Makes You Beautiful" song is extremely catchy despite the fact that it if you listen to the words it sounds like they are saying insecure girls are the beautiful ones.  Which I mean, ok, that probably isn't the greatest message.  Lets not encourage insecurity in young girls.  But maybe I am just reading too much into it.  I do that a lot.  Like a lot, a lot.  When I was little, I liked to read the book "Oh, the Places You'll Go" and the one thing I always focused on was this picture where the main character was standing on the very top of a building playing basketball.  I would sit there tracing and retracing the staircases, trying to find a way down.  There isn't one.  Just so you know.  Now that I have revealed that I am slightly crazy, with a reference to my childhood that has no connection to what I was saying, lets go back to One Direction.  "One Thing" that I really enjoy about the band One Direction (If you didn't catch that, "One Thing" is a title of one of their songs.) is the fact that the member named Harry Styles has a crazy huge hair style.  Get it?  Harry Styles.  Hair Styles... Seriously?  Oh the irony.  Speaking of hairstyles, my sister Amber had a revelation the other day.  She said, "Bumper stickers are like mullets.  The front and the sides of your car look classy, but the back can be as trashy as you want."  Clever right?  No offense if you have a mullet of course.  Be yourself and all that.  Just consider cutting it.  That is all I am saying about that.  Anyway, what was I talking about?  Oh right, One Direction.  Despite the fact that I was originally opposed to the band, I now love it.  So there.  It's out in the air.  Hopefully you don't hate me now.  Of course, if you do, that means you are really close-minded so I probably don't hang out with you much anyway... 

People Eating People??

So what is up with all these people randomly eating people right now? (If you haven't heard about this, I am sure you will because it is all over the news.)  But seriously.  What is going on?  Zombie Apocalypse?  Top Chef episode gone wrong?  I blame hipsters.  Now everyone is trying to be all "original."  You know, like "I ate people before it was cool."  I hope that no one ever says that.  Seriously.  But I mean, what is this about?  And even more importantly, what do vegetarians have to say about it?  Personally, everything I know about zombies comes from video games.  Yes.  I play video games.  If you haven't discovered how nerdy I am yet then you are truly unobservant.  But anyway, the truth is, I am great at killing Nazi zombies on Call of Duty.  Those anti-Semitic undead jerks.  And if I was in the Wild West, I could totally survive because I have had tons of practice on Red Dead Redemption, Undead Nightmare.  But lets be honest, hitting buttons on my XBox controller isn't going to help me much when swarms of bloody, deteriorating, human eaters come busting through my door.  All I know is that ever since I heard the news, I have been storing blades, shotguns and torches and I have been timing myself to see how fast I can get outside and onto my roof since we all know zombies can't climb ladders.  Should I go ahead and make some crazy deep connection now to life?  Yes I think I will.  Think about zombies like the stresses of society.  If you let them, they will chew you up and spit you out.  You will end up walking around like another zombie, not really living because you are letting stress get the best of you.  Don't let the zombie apocalypse that is stress and worry turn you into another of the undead.  Just pull out your torch and burn those stressors to the ground.  But just remember, you have to get their heads or else they will just get right back up and gnaw on your fingers like baby carrots.

Random Rant Of the Week!

Ok.  So today's blog is all about me ranting about one random thing that makes me crazy!  So get ready.  I don't even know where to begin! Yes I do.  The Little Mermaid.  Don't get me wrong, I love the movie despite all the skewed gender roles, the completely inappropriate outfit she wears, the fact that it's all about disobeying your parents to get what you want, and the fact that it basically shows a man falling in love with a girl solely on her appearance because she never even spoke to him!  But despite all those things, I still love the movie.  I mean come on, who didn't play Little Mermaids in the pool when they were a kid.  And if you just thought to yourself "Well Chloe, I actually didn't play Little Mermaids when I was kid."  then I am sorry to inform you that you had no childhood.  Anyway, the one part of The Little Mermaid that just drives me crazy is the fact that her hair never looks wet!  I mean I am sorry, but there is no way that her side part would stay perfectly parted all of the time.  And, she comes walking out of the water and her hair isn't at all stringy from being wet and it still moves in the wind.  No.  When I come bursting from the water like a scene from Bay Watch (only much less graceful) my hair does not blow in the wind with my perfect side part.  It looks like a mop that sticks to my face and is all dreaded up like Bob Marley.  I mean have you seen Ariel's hair?  It is thicker than her waist.  There is no way her hair could look that perfect after swimming around in the ocean all day.  Goodness.  I just can't handle it.  Anyway, that is my random rant for the week.  I'm sorry you had to sit through that.  But next time you watch The Little Mermaid, just check it out.  All I am saying is, my hair has never looked that good in my life, and yet she swims around in salt water all day and looks like she should be in a Loriel commercial. That was fun wasn't it?  If you are thinking no, then do not answer that question.

Where did I go?

I haven't blogged in a while.  Sorry about that.  I know all you loyal followers were probably starting to worry. Maybe you thought I had been eaten by wild dogs, or was taken victim to a zombie apocalypse.  Maybe you thought I broke all my fingers and was therefore unable to type, or that I fell and hit my head and lost every ounce of the sarcastic, strangely confusing (yet you still understand what I am saying) charm that draws you in every time I post a new blog.  Well, to answer your questions and put your worries to rest, the truth is, I have a bit of a life to tend to sometimes.  I have this thing, we like to call it a "job."  And when I started the blog, I was off work.  But then I went back to work and suddenly I forgot all about my blogging responsibilities.  I know what you are thinking.  "Why does the word 'moist' creep me out so much?"  You also may be thinking, "Chloe!  How could you forget about your blog for days?"  Well, I don't know why the word moist creeps me out.  It is just a gross word, ok?  But I will promise to try and not forget about my blog again.  Although I guarantee it will happen a few times.  Don't you worry your little heads one bit though because I'll be back.  Just like the Terminator.  That is what friends are for.  And that is also what people who love to write about pretty much nothing on a blog for you to read are for.  I like to think I am both of those things for you, whoever you are.  Honestly, it is 1 o'clock in the morning though.  And I am super tired.  And I am not even really sure what I have been writing for the past however long I have been sitting here.  So in the morning, I am sure I will read this and think, "Why did I ever let myself post that?"  But oh well.  Off to bed for me, or as I like to think of it, off to Disney World, because I find laying in my bed to be one of the "happiest places on Earth."

Cherry Pie

There is not much like warm cherry pie with cold frozen custard.  The opposition of the cold and the warm is HEAVEN.  I have never been there of course, but I assume it would be comparable if not much much better than the combo of warm pie and ice cream.  Warm pie and ice cream is like the fitness program P90X Insanity, for your mouth.  Except instead of muscle confusion it is taste-bud confusion.  And instead of screaming angry obscenities between gulps for air as you slowly die of over-exertion, you mumble exclamations of deliciousness between shovels of pie into your so appropriately called "pie-hole."  Even though I am attempting to do so, through somewhat specific analogies, there truly are no words to describe the wonderful experience that is eating warm cherry pie and cold ice cream.  Ok.  Now brace yourself.  I am about to get all philosophical on you.  I think, that we need to start treating the differences between people, like warm cherry pie (or whatever pie suits your fancy.  If you don't like pie, maybe go for the whole salty-sweet thing like pretzels and M&Ms.  If you don't like that, you aren't human so I hope your not reading my blog because that would be kind of terrifying.)  Anyway.  I think we should start treating our differences like warm cherry pie and ice cream.  They are different.  One is cold the other is warm.  And sure, both of them are super delicious and wonderful on their own.  But when you put them together, BAAM!  Undefinable wonders of the most amazing kind happen.  I mean if simply combining the differences of warm cherry pie and cold ice cream can create the tastiest of tasty desserts, think what kind of amazing things we could do if we embraced our differences as people and joined together to live harmoniously.  Didn't see all that coming did you?  Maybe you did.  It doesn't really matter.  What does matter is that there is a piece of warm cherry pie and frozen custard in the other room.  So if you will just excuse me, I think I am going to go enjoy.

Haircuts

I think my life can be summed up in describing my hair.  It is huge and as Miley Cyrus would say "It can't be tamed."  Some days, my hair looks like the fluffy ears of a Cocker Spaniel.  Other days, it looks like I slept on it and didn't brush it.  That is probably because I normally sleep on it... and don't brush it... But that is beside the point.  Think Topanga's hair thickness (From Boy Meets World if for some sad reason you don't catch that wonderful reference) meets the waves of a California surfer girl meets Bride of Frankenstine's frizz.  That is my hair in a nutshell.  Actually no.  Because lets be honest, my hair is too humongous to ever fit in any nutshell.  Except for maybe an overgrown coconut.  But that is not really what I am talking about and it would still be cutting it pretty close.  Whatever.  You catch my drift right? (Dora the Explorer-like pause) Great! The funny thing about my hair though, is that sometimes, it looks so good!  I'm sorry if that sounds arrogant, I promise I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything but sometimes you just have to.  So *Toot Toot*.  Sometimes, my hair is awesome.  Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm like "Hey there Bertha! (That is what I refer to my hair as.  I told you I was weird.  Deal with it.) You are lookin' so awesome today!"  I don't actually talk to my hair like that because that would be even stranger than I can get, but I am hoping you understand.  So now your probably like, "Hey Chloe.  Why have you been rambling about your hair for so long?"  Well Mr. Curious, because it is seriously like a mirror of my life.  Sometimes, my life can't be tamed.  Sometimes, I don't put in the effort I should to make it what I want.  Sometimes it is awesome!  Sometimes I am even shocked by how great it is.  And other times, it feels like the only thing to do is buzz my head and start all over.  Don't worry, I will never pull a Britney like that.  But are you getting the analogy?  I guess the thing is as much as I want to start my life over and go back and live it differently, that really wouldn't be what is best.  Just like shaving my head would not be a good idea.  Because the idea is just to continue to shape my life as it is, to form it into the life I want to live.  And sometimes that will be hard because I am completely indecisive and always want the "other choice." But in the end, I have the power to shape my life into the one I want for myself.  Kind of like a haircut.  

Well Hello!

Well, well, well.  Here I am again.  Did you miss me?  I know you did.  Of course you did.  Who wouldn't?  (Don't answer that.)  All those of you who are completely confused, this isn't exactly my first go around with the whole blog thing.  I have another.  Sounds very melodramatic soap opera-like right?  Well it isn't.  So don't get too excited.  Anyway, I missed blogging but I didn't want to continue on with my old one because it has been a year since I posted on it and I needed a change.  I don't do so well with commitment I guess.  I will probably always write stream of consciousness style so warning, things could get confusing sometimes.  My mind is like a tornado.  Like a pile of socks with no matches.  Like when you are young and you put a little of every drink in your cup at McDonalds so you end up with a compilation of different sodas that tastes disgusting but you pretend to like it because you think it makes you cool.  That is what my mind is like.  I don't know how that reference makes any sense, but I like it so I am going to keep it.  Anyway, this is me.  I probably won't keep this amount of weirdness up throughout the blog.  Unless you like reading it.  In which case I will continue to write in my actual personality.  Of course I don't know how I would know if you like it or not because most likely if you are reading this you aren't sitting next to me to tell me if it is any good.  Well I guess I will just keep on with the same thing then...  I hope you enjoy!