Here is what is described in the previous blog post:
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that if anyone ever wanted to ask me advice they still can. I just figured I'd try a new approach since no one ever asked ahaha, but yes.
Paintbrush has become a hobby of mine.
If you ever want me to attempt to draw you something (and believe me, I will try my best, but my best is still at the level of 'sucks quite a bit' on the awesometicity spectrum...) then I shall :P
That is all.
<3 Madi
Here's some randomness for ya...
This is a picture that my friend Liz drew for me.
I had just gotten off my bus, approached my front door (this was about 15 minutes ago, mind you, so I am still a bit shaky from it), and unlocked it when I see, RIGHT next to my hand, THE BIGGEST, MOST SCARY DADDY LONG LEGS I HAD EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.
How it was:
I just wanted to highlight something amazing that has been placed over yonder -->
MY FRIEND BRIAN MADE IT FOR ME. IT MAKES ME FEEL QUITE SPECIAL AND HAPPY INSIDE.
Look how talented he is!!! Thanks, Brian :DDDD
You guys know the feeling you get when you've just about had enough of summer boredom and you're excited for a new year? (Maybe that's just me.... o_O) And then on the first day you get that rush of excitement and adrenaline? Sorta like this:
And finally, about two or three weeks in, when the work is piled so high you can't even see where it stops anymore, you start to feel (and most likely even LOOK) like this:
Okay, so today my friends and I went for a walk to my old elementary school to take a break from homework. (Yeah, we're nerds.) As we were bringing out our inner elementary school children and sliding down the slide, a group of scary-looking people began to approach us. I was quite intimidated by their black clothing and baggy jeans, and as they got closer we realized that they were seventh graders. Since we were ninth graders, it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, right? We should be able to handle a bunch of seventh grade hooligans! We were so very wrong.
They recognized one of my friends, Fishy42, as someone from their bus, and immediately began shouting his name and attempting to hug him, which, apparently, in perverted seventh grade language, means something close to molesting. As we started to walk back to my house, they followed. My first thought was, "WHAT IF THEY FOLLOW ME ALL THE WAY TO MY HOUSE AND THEY FIND OUT WHERE I LIVE AND THEY COME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND RAPE ME AND KILL ME IN MY SLEEP?!" As you could guess, I tried to be sneaky and pretend like my house was on some random side street near my school. As we turned, one of them shouted, "THAT'S NOT WHERE YOU LIVE!"
"What?!" I replied.
"That's not where you live."
"How do YOU know?!"
"You live next to Vinny."
My heart sank as realization hit me: Vinny is my neighbor's name.
CREEPYSTALKERMIDDLESCHOOLERS!
Scared out of my mind by these little seventh grade boys who not only were following us and throwing acorns and crab apples (YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH THOSE LITTLE VERSIONS OF DELICIOUS FRUITS HURT!), but also knew where I lived, we continued onto a few more random side streets. Eventually they got bored and stopped following us, but I was pretty sure I was going to be raped by a seventh grade boy and be scarred by the sight of a playground slide for the rest of my life.
So, in conclusion, I change my picture that is supposed to portray middle school in the previous blog post to this:
Okay, so I recently became a freshman in high school, and it is juuuust a biiiiit different than middle school.
FIRST of all, it's COMPLICATED. Like really, at least in middle school all the wings were the same. SQUARES. SIMPLE GEOMETRIC FIGURES. In high school, it's all "I'MMA BE ALL WEIRD AND CONFUSE YOU! MWAHHH!" So the numbers are like, "Room #1... Room # 45,000... Room # 7,000,528... Room # 7 and a half...."
Not to mention the difference in the size of the students. In eighth grade you can be like "I'M BIGGAH THAN THE SIXTH GRADAHS!"
You know, I don't know about you guys, but I ALWAYS find myself saying the LAMEST comebacks to things that don't necessarily warrant comebacks at all.
And they usually involve "your face."
And they usually make absolutely no sense.
But seriously, why do I continue to say these things? Not only are they nonsensical, but it's not like if I keep practicing it it'll come to be any use in a real life situation.
