Don't you wish you were British?

Mood: You saw it
Listening to: Songs About Me, by Trace Adkins

Posted July 18, 2005

When not blogging, one feels no sense of needing to. For a long while. That is why I don't blog more. I used to be one of those obsessive ohmigod-if-I'm-not-on-my-blog-then-I-am-going-to-miss-a-visitor-and-the-whole-world-will-end type of person. I'm not now, thankfully. I really enjoy having friends on Blogigo, and I apologize for not talking to y'all more, but the world ain't ending netime soon, in the lovely words of my grandmum. So the reason I'm on here now is just to vent. I felt the need of it last night, but it was 11:00 p.m. and I was getting nowhere. 45 minutes later I am still awake and alive (tho trying to sleep), and then one minute later I'm listening to the fireworks our neighbors were setting off. It was 11:46 p.m.--and our neighbors were setting off those whistling, screaming fireworks! I seriously considered marching out there and yelling at them (or making conversation, or asking them to stop timidly; I went over it in my head of the best option) to stop. The problem? I was wearing a mud mask--and being our neighbors are a bunch of rowdy, post-college country kids/high school drop-outs, one didn't want to embarrass one's self by revealing a mud mask that once caused Bryce to run from the room screaming, "A monster!" once upon a time. What to do, what to do; as those fireworks screamed their way into my nerves. I stumbled out of bed and into Mom's room next door, and asked her, "Mom, can you ask them to stop?" For this audacity, I got a pillow thrown at me and a yell of, "Ashley, it will STOP in a few minutes if you would just give them time and sit it out instead of waking me up!" It was all in one breath. I was pretty gobsmacked, and decided it wasn't a wise move to point out that they were keeping her awake as well. Alas, life is a pretty funny thing. Not in this instance. This instance is just one of those random times that left me wishing to pass out the next day.

Nick and I are over. I may have said that b4. Beyond over. So over...I dunno. I'm guessing what made him stop liking me was the fact that we didn't see each other all that much. Just a lot of phone calls and one truly fun fishing trip. Apparently it wasn't enough. It was enough for me--but then again, I am horribly low-maintenance. He said he liked that about me; that I didn't demand him to go out buying expensive, scented lotions. On that occasion, I told him that if he bought me a watermelon I'd love him forever (it'd have to be more than one melon, of course--if I was going to love him forever it had better be a lifetime of melons). See? What kind of awful happy-go-lucky, watermelon-addict chick am I?! What's the matter with it?! I don't see the problem. I don't know. I don't feel like dishing out the gory details for why we broke up and examining them for reasons. I'll prolly end up thrashing it out sumtime or another, but when you're in a good mood, why spoil it with petty experiences? At least now, I can say that I'm in the Girlfriend Game and that guys are looking at me for once (it took years of flirting to achieve this, trust me, but diligent ole me, I suffered it). I'll prolly end up with another farm guy in the new school year, hopefully a better boyfriend than Nick.

Speaking of school--less than a month off. A month and counting. Scary. I'll be a sophomore this year, but this school year is prolly going to prove to be vastly different. I have no idea; I just hope I get into all the right classes.

What to talk about now? Avoiding talking about Nick left me tired. And frustrated. Interesting mixture. Combined with our stupid neighbors' rudeness. Bleh.

Kudos, StarrGurl