25 March 2010

I went to a psychologist today... I'm going to get tested this weekend to see if I have a mental disorder. I'm not sure what I think about all of this. I don't know if I should be relieved, glad, sad, or freaked out. If I do have a mental disorder, it means I have a problem and I'll have to take medication and it confirms this underlyng suspicion that I've always had that I am seriously NOT NORMAL. On the otherhand, it gives a reason for my inability to do my homework and my constant procrastination and disorganization and the social awkwardness I'm only starting to overcome. I think it might be relieving to know that there's (sort of) a solution to my problems.

21 March 2010

In which I give you an in-depth analysis of my weekly schedule..

Okay, Okay, before you get crazy out there in your rolly chairs, let me just fill you in on my insanely hectic schedule right now, okay? Mondays I have art club right after school, an hour to eat dinner and do my homework and softball 'til 8. Tuesdays I have percussion ensemble until freaking FIVE O' CLOCK and then I have to go to my sister's softball games (where there is no internet connection!), wednesdays I have writers' club 'til five and then a meeting with my organizational tutor (because I'm a lazy ass not only in updating my blog, but also in homework - make you feel any better?) and thursdays I have figure skating and then double header softball games, and then on Friday's, somehow I manage to have a social life, and I actually do stuff that's more important than your viewing needs, so HAH. Yeah... anybody else out there got schedule that hectic??? That's right.. I think NOT.

Anyways, I've got some reviews of Wicked by Gregory Magure and one you probably haven't heard of, How to Say Goodbye in Robot by Natalie Standiford, which made me cry like CRAZY, so... fun.

04 March 2010

How To Stay Goodbye In Robot by Natalie Standiford

was more bitter than sweet. Persuaded by the hot pink cover and bubble-gummy sounding description into thinking this was chick-lit, I was looking forward to two hundred fifty-some-odd pages of irreverant bliss. BUT NO. That is NOT what I got. I just wanted the book to end, because my heart kept breaking OVER and OVER again.

I kept thinking of this guy-friend of mine from elementary school, whose name was Greg. He was my BFF for FOUR WHOLE YEARS (this was record-breaking at the time for me, because I had lived in about eleven houses in eight years). We both fantasized about medieval times and narwhals and neopets and pentominoes and we played jump rope and hopscotch at recess all by our lonesome selves, because we were pretty much outcasts. We were gonna to go to the Renaissance fair together the last day before the summer (in which I was moving for yet another house). But I was STUPID. And I REALLY wanted to be popular. And two days before the fair, I still hadn't told my mom about the renaissance fair. At lunch, a popular girl invited me to a sleepover....

... When I got home, I told my mom about the sleepover instead of the renaissance fair. And Greg never spoke to me again.

THAT is what this book made me think of. It made me cry out of grief and guilt and regret and heartbreak and it WASN'T CHICK LIT!!!!

(edt: BTW, this isn't the official review)