Thursday, August 25, 2011

Perhaps this blog is me getting something off my chest...

I just need to say something.
I've been keeping my mouth shut quite a bit lately. For selfish reasons.
(NEVER take talking and eating solid food for granted, btw. Once it's gone, you will CRY.)

I've been thinking about respect.
Mostly respect toward one person in particular.
Or disrespect, rather. 
I'd just like to say...

(Since I can't speak, I can't make a YouTube video, you see?)
Okay, for the record? Two videos. Two songs.
But let's think for a second.
That's no reason to bully her out of her school...
Poor Rebecca's probably like. Shooting this video.
You don't think the thought entered her head that MAYBE the song she was singing wouldn't be featured at the VMA's?
It's no Tiny Dancer. That's for sure.
But you know what? If you get down to the core message of the song, it totally speaks to everyone.
Like you've never had your friends pull up at your house, and some were kicking in the front seat, and sitting in the back seat, and you had major trouble trying to make your mind up about which seat you should take??
...Okay, that's NEVER happened to me. 
.........And who doesn't do a little happy dance on Friday?
OR sing their own little song?
My mom sang us a Friday song when she'd get us up for school. I bet she still remembers it.
Rebecca Black's song was on GLEE. ...Maybe only as a joke. I don't know.

....Anyway. Glad that's off my chest.
You may return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Monday, August 22, 2011

This probably is a boring blog in which I state how sorry for myself I have become.

Hello viewers.
All 5 of you.

I come to you from my bed, in my bedroom, in my house, on Ardath Ave, in Wichita Falls, TX. USA. Earth.
Why did I feel the need to explain that?
Because I cannot speak using words. So this blog will be me oversharing.

Let me be more specific: I cannot speak using my voice. I can text, facebook, and blog; However, I can't talk. Outload. To strangers.
I physically can, yes, but it's painful.

So I went back to the doctor today after observing a white patch on the back of my throat. (Gross? Sorry...I say again that when I can't speak outloud and have only this blog to turn to, I overshare. Feel free to return to normal browsing if you feel the need.)
The doctor told me that it's a nice case of a bunch of fever blisters.
You know. From having a fever.
All weekend long.
Did I forget to post a sick blog?
Oh well. This is the gist: I had a recurring fever all weekend with no explanation. And it kept coming back, even thought I was very good about staying on top of it with Tylenol.
There. Now you know.

Last night before I went to bed my fever was still 101.2.
You probably should be writing this down.
There's a quiz after.


It's very painful to talk and eat.
I've lost 5 pounds since Friday.
It's not the best way to lose weight, I know, but unfortunately, it may be the only bright side to this horrible plague that has come into my life.

I should also add that I took 2 tylenol PM's and a benadryl before writing this.
Reason being that I'm trying to kick my fever blisters AND it's father Fever right in the tuckus so maybe they'll leave me alone.
Please save your intervention for some real issues that I may run into later on in life.  I'm not a pill head now.
Although if you want, you can write me a letter telling me how much you love me and how much my Tylenol PM/Benadryl post bored you and entertained all at the same time, and how I can't stay on one topic to save my life. It'll be fun to read later.

Anyway. Back to the title of my blog where I'm feeling sorry for myself and you're bored out of your mind reading this.

I digress.

Two parents of mine (who shall remain nameless) had nachos AND cheeseburgers last night.
I had some mashed potatoes.
SOME. Meaning....half a cup, maybe.
I told my mom that I probably will cry by the end of this week thinking about all the food I can't eat.
FYI: Cold tomato soup tastes the same as warm potato soup, only not warm.
It doesn't completely suck, like you might think.
In fact, I added a little straw to mine, and pretended it was a tomato smoothie.
Because...tomatoes are a fruit, right?
I can't take credit for that joke, unfortunately.

The point of all of this is,

I wanted to complain because I can't eat or talk, so I feel like I'm severely handicapped.
You know how they say that once one of your senses is put on the bench (In my case, taste) that all of your senses are heightened to make up for it?
It's completely true.

Now that it's off of my chest, I'll go back to my tomato smoothies.
With pleasure.