Stuff

Ever have to move? No? Good for you, because it sucks hardcore.

Yes? I feel for you.

Why? Because I have moved three times in less than two years. And EVERY TIME I am astounded by the amount of just STUFF I have. I have TWO DOZEN picture frames and TWO DOZEN picture albums. Do I have forty eight photographs? NO! That was just graduation, too. Then there are the COUNTLESS Christmases that I continuously just get RANDOM OBJECTS that I don't want to throw away in fear of hurting someone's feelings. But it's ridiculous.

I have tens of thousands of f-ing bracelets that I will NEVER wear, because they're just too pretty and I don't wear pretty bracelets I wear durable bracelets, ones I can wear and wear and wear and then if they break they don't have any sentimental value so I just BUY ANOTHER ONE. Or I constantly wear this thick rubber Blink 182 bracelet, because it hasn't failed in the nearly two years that I've been wearing it. But I have sixty thousand f-ing pretty bracelets that have GIANT f-ing beads that I will NEVER wear because I spend too much time writing in notebooks or on the computer and it HURTS MY WRIST TO WEAR THEM. And don't get me wrong, it's really nice that people get me bracelets, but I can't help but HATE IT when they do. Because they're either REALLY fancy or they're what a sixth grader would wear.

Magazines too. I've been getting Seventeen Magazine since I was sixteen. Well that's a lie. I subscribed when I had to go sell magazines for prom money, we subscribed for TWENTY FOUR of them, not EIGHTY THOUSAND. But anyways I got these magazines for like two or three months and then they suddenly STOPPED. And I didn't get another one til I was nearly eighteen. And now they won't STOP. They just keep coming and coming and coming and never ever stopping. I can't take it because now I have at least 22 of these f-ing magazines and they just don't stop coming every month. I don't want them, I'm past the point of caring what's in fashion among teenagers. I'm nearly twenty years old and I have nothing to do with these damn magazines that continue to flood my mailbox every month. I thought...hey I could donate them...but people read them and I have MUTILATED every damn one of those magafuckingzines.

And I have all just things that I have NO SPACE FOR. I have candles and bears and wedding cake toppers and snow globes and Esmerelda figurines and ugly tacky neon Rice Crispy clocks and jewelry boxes and frames that actually DO have pictures in them and card games I'll never play and a cute alien I have no place for.

Then there's the NAIL POLISH. I have SO MUCH NAIL POLISH. Blue and green and red and purple and pink and pink and pink and pink and pink! I could polish each of my toes and fingers in a different shade of pink, I swear. And every single birthday and Christmas, "SURPRISE RACHEL ANOTHER SET OF NAIL POLISHES! AND IT HAS PINK!" Thanks dude, I'll add that to the already HUGE COLLECTION I've already got and don't know where to put.

Nail polish just got it's own group but now it's the BEAUTY PRODUCT IN GENERAL. Half of that is my fault. "Oh that'd look cute in my hair." Oh, I haven't wore any of that shit even once. And then Christmas, "Rachie Poo! I got you make up!" Thanks but I like picking out my OWN make up. So I have various Christmas make up and various Rachel make up. What does a girl who rarely even wears make-up going to do with all of this nonsense? I have more lipstick than I can wear....and I don't even wear lipstick. And every year, "Hey Rachel, I'm going to give you NASTY STINKY perfume. Happy Holidays, bitch, now you have nothing to do with it for the next twenty years of your life." I know they don't intend on it but I wish I could just say, "Hey guys, don't give me perfume or lotion UNLESS it's Victoria's Secret AMBER ROMANCE or Beauty Rush STRAWBERRY FIZZ. <---- I never even wear it because I'm waiting for a special occasion to do so. It's been in my perfume/lotion drawer for a year and a half.

And then there are the three thousand notebooks I have just lying around. Ones from high school because I like the color or they still have memories in them. I should just throw them away but I have memories all up in them. Or just random thoughts or notes I wrote in school. I have a BULGING notebook full of notes I took at college. I don't have any more room in there. None. But I made up my mind. I'm going to walmart this afternoon and going to buy a folder and a file thing. A notebook where I will RE-COPY down my random thoughts and a file to put all my school notes. Like an accordion folder thing.

Finally there are the BOOKS AND MOVIES. I have more of those two things than I have time to watch/read. And I love movies. I would buy more right now if I could. And books, I have all these books that I have yet to even start, but I keep.buying.more! I have books that I'll never read because I can't even get through the first one; why I bought the sequel, I don't know. I have books I'll never read and books I've already read. I just...so....many. Boxes and boxes just FULL of them.

That's my rant of just my stuff. I'm going to write my letter to Xenon down so I don't have to put it in another notebook. It kind of cracks me up.

Dear School,

Everyday I spend here is like a nightmare. My chest is bubbling with rage. Words are rising up in my throat threatening to spill out right now. When (a teacher's name) said, 'First of all-you can't have books at school.' I almost lost it. I'm not entirely sure if I almost laughed or almost yelled. Do you realize how stupid that sounds? 'No books at school?' School? The place for 12 years I was encouraged to read? You ignoramuses won't let me read even if I have nothing to do but bitch in a notebook for the next fifteen minutes? It took all of my willpower not to say something sarcastic about 'not reading at school.' I hate everything about you. How I wish I could say these things. By the way I am not paying you so I can sit around for twelve hours a day. I am paying you for an education and since you haven't been providing me with much of that or anything else to do besides sitting on my ass, the VERY LEAST you could do is let me read but no, no. 'You can't read books at school.' So you'd rather I sit in the cafe talking about sex all day than do something borderline intelligent? Fuck.This.School.

Rachel.

Moral of this Story: Don't come between me and reading, bitches.

Valenfuckingtine's Day

This day is the shittiest of all days in the damn year. Not because I have a lack of Valentine. But because that's ALL I FUCKING READ ABOUT!

I hate it for several reasons but this is the worst fucking one. People bitch and moan for days upon weeks before Valentine's Day, but why? Because you're not dating someone. Boofuckinghoo. Why do you need someone to be happy, codependent bitch?

And out of the SEVERAL THOUSAND facebook updates I get HOURLY about being #foreveralone you would think, hey maybe if they're so damn desperate, they be like, "Oh hai, you're alone too? Sweet! Let's be alone together!" And then they'd have a damn Valentine on Valentine's Day. BUUUT no! It's like they like being depressed on the stupidest fucking day of the year.

And one day I'm going to have a lover (that word makes my skin crawl) on Valentine's Day and I'll STILL hate this Mother Fucking Day. Because why? Possibly because Valentine's Day is the one day a year where you HAVE to do things for your loved one. The fuck?!? Seriously.

I mean out of the three hundred and sixty two days that aren't required to be special and give me flowers, I'd be SUPER happy....but give me flowers on Valentine's Day, I'd be like oh, so I'm like EVERY FUCKIN PERSON IN A RELATIONSHIP AT THE MOMENT.

So every time someone on facebook gets flowers and then they post the picture saying, "Surprised Me With Flowers!" Okay? Did he? OR did you know he was going to get you them because for goodness sakes it's VALENTINES DAY. EVERYONE GETS THEM. Look at your homepage, I bet everyone on your facebook who's in a relationship sent a similar picture with the SAME caption.

Good for fucking you. You're just like EVERYONE else who's in a relationship on this day. Jeeeeeeeesh.

One day, I'm going to get together with EVERYONE else who hates this day for the appropriate reasons and instead bitching about the shittiest and most pointless day of the whole year, we'll have a grand ole' time just CHILLING watching TV not concerned with the shittiness that is this day of the year.

And by that I mean, no one who's going to cry in their sock drawer because they're single, but someone who just genuinely thinks this holiday is shit. No bitching singles, no sappy idiots who are in relationships, just a bunch of people, single or otherwise, who just decide to kick back and do nothing in PROTEST of this shitty holiday. Shitty shit shit shit....Fuckin' A!