ENOUGH ALREADY!

I couldn't decide between that title and "Life: you're doing it wrong". I felt like the afformentioned was more appropriate until i logged into facebook to see that every single one of my 556 friends are engaged. Every single one. Even bomb, who is 14 years old, and one of my 12 year old previous campers. Ok...that may be an exaggeration, but seriously...I don't think I can handle any more engagement rings.

Some of you (like how I say that as if I have a huge range of readers?) may say that this is just overwhelming jealousy...but seriously I think I have every right to be angered by this epidemic of loving couples. Lets just take a look at the facts of my sad life that is quickly spiraling towards "crazy-cat-lady" status.

1. I live with a hooker...who is just barely the weirdest of the oddies that I've had the pleasure of abiding among over the past 5 years.
2. My dating history is a ridiculous gay non boyfriend (or maybe 2) and a psychopathic cheating lying 30 year old creeper...more on that at a later date...maybe...
3. All my friends graduated and left me sad and alone
4. We discussed what social pariah means, right? check first blog if not.
5. I've picked a major and a career that results in negative meeting of eligible men. Negative. That means they see my teacherie sweaters, and throw the nearest woman at me to distract me and allow them to get away unseen. Ok, thats not entirely true...its only true if you aren't engaged by the time you graduate. Don't worry...every other woman in my graduating class is already engaged/married and has a litter of children...every other woman.
6. While I haven't gotten a cat quite yet (I probably won't because to be honest they horrify me almost as much as that girl from the ring...you never hear them coming, they're just there and I know they are just waiting for me to keel over or pass out so they can eat my lifeless body...more on that later) I do have my one friend...my dog...good news is he is far to stupid to know he would have any other option except to love me forever.

 Ok thats all the sad facts I can list right now. Do you feel bad for me yet? Good...you know how you can help. Stop with the freaking engagement rings and the wedding cakes and the UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous wedding gowns. Seriously...how am I supposed to remain the most beautiful one of my friends with you people always showing me up in those? gosh.


So I have decided to make myself feel better I am going to design my wedding. And I'm going to post it here in all its glory for everyone to see. First:

The Engagement Ring:
This beautiful specimen is perfect. It is beautifully representative of boobs...don't tell me its supposed to be my eyes...that ring is DEFINITELY boobs. And its a fabulous reminder that I am in fact a girl...just in case I forget at some point...which I am prone to do.







 



The Dress:
I don't feel like it is a real wedding if the flower girl doesn't run away from you screaming "SNOW BEAST! SNOOOOOOOWWWW BEEEEEAAAAAASSSST!" (if she adds a comment about a boobie on my finger that would be great too). Also, the diamond studded swim cap will allow me to seamlessly transition into my entirely underwater reception. Its gonna be in a swimming pool...but a diamond studded one...you know, I like to keep it classy.

The Shoes:
Forget the fact that I am incapable of walking in high heels...look how pretty! I could have 4 of my own corsages! Just like prom. Also...don't these just say "dance the night away"?

The Flowers:
I am nothing if not FIERCELY patriotic (I really need the sarcmark here). So I can see no other bouquet or color scheme more appropriate than this one. I will be walking down the isle to the song "proud to be an american" because at least I know I'm free.








Now the last thing I would want is for this blog to incite jealousy in any of you...so feel free to take any or all of my ideas. I didn't include all the details for my fabulous wedding here so that you can't make an exact replica...you know...I got to keep some goodies in the jar.

There really is no nice way to ask.

Hey roommie...hows it going? I was just wondering...um...have you been like low on cash or something lately? Oh, theres no  REAL reason I ask...Just wondering. I mean...mainly its because of the endless flow of guys that you have in your bedroom. Its gotten up to about 5 or 6 so far last night, and its just a little concerning thats all. Now I have one of 3 conclusions I can jump to:

1. The strange residue I find in my pot every once in a while, the one that is a little rainbowie...i think its meth residue. I've never actually seen meth cooked, and i don't know if it is cooked in a pot. For some reason I always in vision a cauldron, but, I guess MY pot could be a good cauldron  substitute for your meth concoctions. I also don't have any idea what meth residue looks like...but rainbowie doesn't seem unreasonable. However...it seems like these shady characters are in your bedroom a little too long for a "pick up"...so I'm thinking its unlikely.

2. Um...If your low on money...I can see you choosing to sell other things...the men emit a smell when they leave that lead me to believe this conclusion is the most likely...but I'm really hoping I'm wrong because this is the saddest of the 3 options. Please get an STD test.

3. You're a secret agent. You only come home drunk at 2 AM every night to throw me off the scent. The men are actually informants...very shady, large, scary, informants. This would explain the tenancy to carry guns...In reality this means my apartment is the safest place for me to be. I have a government employee with me every day, and I'm assuming you know some sort of martial art as well...i feel safer already. This also means your position at the tanning salon is just a cover. Nice one...I'm sure no one else will ever guess your real identity.

I think I'm going to choose option 3. Mainly because A) i'm a little ashamed that I've been able to live with you for 4 months and only slightly suspected option two and B) If I think about the other two options it weirds me out a lot... I guess it doesn't really make a difference since I'm moving out tomorrow...but congratulations for being my weirdest room mate yet. You had quite the competitors, but first prize definitely goes to you. Your mysteriousness went beyond intriguing...into a place where I really don't want to look, and forces me to stay in my locked bedroom with my large dog (whose actually a giant pansy, but you don't need to know that).

Just a suggestion...when I'm broke I buy a lot of eggs and peanut butter. It saves money and gets the job done. Don't eat them together though...thats just weird. 

LOOK HOW STUPID!

I love stupid things. Stupid animals, stupid people, stupid questions (yes they exist...i'll post a conversation with bomb later) everything stupid! Until today I really thought my dog was about as stupid as pets get...his 45 minute staring contests with mirrors and carpet squares are very impressive, but I just got a new pet, that I am positive is stupider and I had to introduce him: (i'm thinking his name should either be Harry or Floyd) *disclaimer this isn't really him, but it looks just like him since i can't get a picture of him online right now*

Now, I don't actually have any proof of stupidity. But, LOOK AT HIM! he really can't be all that bright right? Love.

*UPDATE* I decided to let the kids name the fish, since it was actually for my third graders. It was my last day of student teaching, so it was my gift to them. They decided to name the fish after me....thanks guys...I'm honored...

Mystery is my middle name...actually no, its probably procrastination

I'm not Allison. People like to think that is my name, but its NOT. So for our purposes, you can just call me Notallison. I'm not so good with mystery, either. I should actually rephrase that. I'm the type of person who can't be told secrets because it is humanly impossible for me to keep my mouth shut. From about 6th grade on my friends began making me pinkie swear not to tell my mom HIGHLY confidential information...but I always did...and everyone knows that pinkie swearing is the highest form of contract.

With that in mind I have wanted to write a blog and be this highly mysterious person with awesomely hilarious stories. No one will know me, I'll just be the superhero of blogging. Teacher by day...unbelievably witty megamind by night/times during the day when I can. That being said I know I will probably be unsuccessful at that...mainly because i'm not so good with the secrets.

I think the real reason for starting this blog is probably because I'm finishing up my last final projects as a college student...five years has taken its toll, and I've been dying of senioritis for a while now. So...rather than actually do all the crap that I'm supposed to be doing...I'm here. I think of it kind of like penicillin for all my brain particles that are tired of typing teaching standards and making up stupid games to use to teach kids math. (i mean fun games...all of my games are so freaking fun!)

Basically...My life is one ridiculous situation after another. I have a theory that all people's lives are like this...And I'm just maybe better at observing. I'm not sure if thats true, though...my life may just be ridiculous.

I get myself into a lot of these situations. I think its cuz  I'm not what you would call a planner...i'm more a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-that-I've-probably-had-ripped-off-accidentally-in-the-process-of-my-graceful-spontaneity-and-now-I'm-just-trying-my-hardest-to-retain-my-modesty-while-carrying-on-whatever-totally-unnecessary-situation-I've-gotten-myself-into kind of gal., I'm also surrounded by children all the time. Crazy just follows them around.

Lastly, I've got my sister, who I am gonna call "bomb" for the purposes of this blog. Shes younger, and has a reputation for being a little destructive...also if you are texting her name, auto correct changes it to bomb...hence the code (creative right?). My sister is 7 years younger than I am (she'll say 8 but shes a dirty liar) and hands down the funniest person I've ever met. We're pretty much the only sane ones in my otherwise commit-able family...which is why most of my stories will probably involve her.

Also. I like sushi. not so much eating it (which i do like, but not as much) more looking at it...cuz its pretty...like me...only not as pretty. I'm freaking gorgeous.

I have to start the first blog with a story...so it'll be a short one because I've already written a novel:

I'm kind of loud...and at the center of attention a lot. I love this position, its really where I'm the most comfortable...I guess you could call me an extrovert (I guess...maybe...please don't leave me alone). I am normally a very socially competent person...that is until I am forced into a professional setting. No matter what: my professional sorority (that was a stupid 10 month mistake!) Classes within my major, group projects, any of those; if I am with other people my age bracket from the same profession I will make an idiot of myself and further cement my title of "social pariah" of the group. The following conversation is a perfect example of this:


Scene: all girls (because only girls are teachers...great dating pool...) having a conversation around a table about their first full days of student teaching. Taking over a classroom brings all sorts of revelations, such as how hard it is to stand or run around a classroom for 8 hours straight, or how obnoxious it is to answer the same question a million times (there are days I pray for short term memory loss...how long will you ignore my pleas, Lord?) etc. Notallison walks in halfway through the conversation, and realizes she can totally relate! finally, a conversation she can join in!

One bitchy girl (*disclaimer* most teachers/future teachers are actually really bitchy girls...not all of us...but most): I am just so tired! it has to get better than this!

All bitchy girls: nod in agreement Ya, totally, our lives are so hard (*disclaimer* teachers have the hardest *note sarcasm* lives EVER!)

Notallison: thinking about how it was surprisingly difficult to teach a full day. The most difficult thing she thought was talking all day! By lunch time she was so tired of hearing herself she could have super glued her mouth shut and been grateful for the silence. "say that," Notallison thinks to herself, "say that!" Do you guys ever get tired of hearing your own voice?

all conversation stops...all girls slowly turn to look at Notallison. Realizing the misunderstanding Notallison tries to recover

Notallison: I mean...like when you're teaching...like talking...you do a lot..and i'm like whew...talking...right? words? Can't so much think of any now...um ya...how bout that um...kids...they're funny? random incoherent mumblings about lunch time and superglue.

bitchy girls continue their awkward stare...Notallison feels their wrath and slowly walks away while one girl adds a sarcastic sympathy laugh...once again social pariah-ness rears its ugly head.  

AAAAAAAAAAAND end scene.

So there you go. My first example of social pariah-ty...and awkwardness. But seriously guys, I promise I'm cool. Please read my blog. Please?