I know I'm usually really goofy on this blog, but I'd like to use this space today to talk about something that's really been getting my goat lately. I'll talk about Married to Medicine and my summer clothing pet peeves another day. Let's turn down the goofy dial about 30% here. 70% Serious talk time.
Posers.
I don't like them. I also dislike bullies.
When, oh when did I become Cady Heron?
This marvelously artistic, emotional, symbolic, and beautiful music video is my inspiration for this post. You all know how much I love music videos! (I am majoring in film this fall, after all!) This song summarizes exactly how I feel about posers and bullies. I want you to watch Joe Jonas get all upset and burn down some house or something, and let it all soak in.
Done watching? Okay. Let me explain. It's April already! Yay! I've chosen a college! I met a bunch of hilarious, kind, interesting people from said college! Graduation is around the corner! I'm nearly eighteen! Senior prom is in three weeks! Huzzah!
Yay me!
Whoa, I'm even wearing Abigail Breslin's glasses!
But push all of that wonderfulness aside for a second. School has been pretty wild lately. The approaching end of high school is making everyone loopy! Where everyone = the kids in my art class. Every other class of mine is like another, saner dimension! We get candy in AP Biology! We sing "Thrift Shop" in AP English! Why is AP Art my least favorite class? I AM AN ARTIST FOR PETE'S SAKE. Hence the "seeing no more" motif I'm going for here. I'm an artist, and I know many artists. Real artists and high-school artists can be two very different groups of people. Real artists are aware of deadlines, work hard, support one another, and strive to grow and learn. High school artists can't take criticism, spend entire class periods socializing and distracting others from working, think they're God's Gift to Mankind, and are in for QUITE the reality-check after graduation! I'm NOT saying that every artist who is still in high school falls into that second category, because many of us teenage art kids are TOTAL AWESOME-SAUCE. Hello, everyone who's attending art school with me in the fall! You all are total diamond-shining-stars. All of you wonders continue on your merry way. Nothing to see here!
I'm talking about the posers in high school with me right now. Ah, now you get where I'm coming from! My school has a really big art department, which means there's plenty of room for posers and the like. I think high school cliques have to be large in order to have posers at all. In order for a poser to be a poser, they must have something to pose off of, am I right? You don't have to be an art kid to get what I'm saying here. A poser could be that girl on the cheer-leading squad who never does any actual cheer-leading, but just sits on the bench Instagram-ing and talking about how skinny and popular she is. A poser could be a computer geek who knows nothing about actual computers but goes to computer club meetings anyway so they can humble-brag about their 5 Mac computers and Ray Ban glasses.
(MAJOR HINT TIME: No true computer-geek/programmer/gamer/hacker will EVER humble-brag about having a Mac over a Windows computer. EVER.)
And a lot of these posers used to be awesome people. They claim they've "grown up," and were unpopular and even "depressed" back when they were actually nice and cool. Okay? What does that make me, when we were friends?
At least then they were real!
The point is, posers aren't only annoying - they're damaging! They distract the people they're posing off of from getting any actual work done! The cheer-leaders can't cheer-lead properly, and the computer club can't compute without being interrupted by humble-brags! In my case, the artist-posers are such a frustration. Out of my school's Art Kids, I'm pretty friendly with all of them. But there are a select few who I just can't handle. Not only are they posers, they're bullies. They ignore me when I talk to them, think they're better than me, and exclude me from all art-club-related decisions. The Queen Bee of the group makes it her personal business to make sure I feel like a tiny little speck of dust that no one can see. Being ignored is like TORTURE. It hurts, because I've done nothing wrong. I've been nothing but nice! I've invited them out after school and complimented their artwork! I GAVE A HERSHEY'S KISS TO EVERY ONE OF THEM TO TRY AND CHANGE THEIR OPINION OF ME ON VALENTINE'S DAY! I've spent countless art periods hiding and working in another art classroom, near-tears venting to my guidance counselor and to my best friend at lunch, and bringing non-art-kids into my classroom to act as a shield against all of the awful-ness. "Why don't they like me?" was a question that ran through my head ever minute of every art class. I'm one of those Awful People who is nice to those who are mean to me,
so none of them have any idea how much their behavior gets to
me.
*sigh* How do I not fit in with the art kids, when I am an artist myself?
Then I had an Epic Epiphany.
I just realized how much I dislike this group of people! I don't need to put up with them any longer! I don't need to prove anything to them! It's hard to swallow the fact that a whole group
of your friends (Don't worry - I have other groups of friends! If
you're reading this, you know who you are!) is a bad influence, but it
can happen. It's especially apparent after you start to meet people outside of your social circle, such as from your future college (shout-out #1.259,823,924)! Your current high-school "friends'" bull crap becomes as clear as day once you've waded out of it.
Me and my best (non-artistic) friend were stuck in the
nurse's office at school recently for an hour and a half during an
extended lock-out, which was caused by the brilliant antics of my fellow
brilliant classmates, when we started talking with the kids who were
locked in with us. It was wonderful and just like those movies when
everyone goes around taking turns telling their life stories. Anyway, I
found out that I'm not the only one who thinks these art kids are
irritating! Apparently it's a widespread opinion at my school. Most of
my friends don't go to my school, and the ones that do are far-removed
from my art class, so for a while this year I was oblivious to how my
art class looked to the rest of the world, without any outside
perspectives. But I feel validated! They are actually all jerks! And everyone knows it!
EPIPHANY MOMENT, EMMA.
I am always the last one in on things around here!
But what do I do now? My school recently passed a law banning iPods, so I can't tune them all out with my stunning musical tastes. Our AP Art portfolios are due in 3 weeks, so there is ZERO time for lollygagging and socializing! I need a 5/5 on my portfolio!I NEED TO GET STUFF DONE. WHAT DO I DOOOoooo?
WARNING: If you ever see a horde of Doc Martens, undercuts, beanies, hair dye, peace signs, gauges, Ray Bans, ironic t-shirts, and DSLRs all in one place at one time, you've accidentally wandered into the scary part of my high school's art department, and you need to TURN AROUND IMMEDIATELY AND RUN AWAY AS FAST AS YOU CAN SCREAMING UNTIL YOU HIT THE TRAIN STATION OR IHOP OR SOME OTHER PLACE THAT IS NOT MY HIGH SCHOOL.
My saving grace is art college next year. The key difference between the posers I know now and the artists I've met so far from college is artistic drive. They're passionate about art like I am!
Hence my musical choice for this post: I can't wait for college! I really don't want to see any of these bullies while I'm trying to finish my portfolio. I can never concentrate while I'm in that class, and it's like a vortex of negativity for me! All they ever do is gab about their epic plans which I'm never invited to, play really irritating indie music, and pass food around, again forgetting to pass any to me. When did art class become about everything but making art?
My sentiments exactly, Cher.
If any of you readers out there have a group of "friends" who perpetually treat you this way, please stand up for yourself. I know it's easier said than done, but it's currently at the top of my to-do list! I'm trying to be a better feminist/kick-butt crime-fighter/Mean-Girls-era-Lizzy-Caplan, but it's tough. Smudgy, angsty eye-liner looks like crayon on me, and my angsty pin-collection is not nearly close enough to being finished.
How I wish I was in real life!
It's Saturday now, and this Epic Epiphany occurred yesterday, on Friday during school. I have twenty-four hours to come up with a good reason as to why I'll be sitting ALLLLL the way across the room in art class, maybe with a blanket covering my entire body, and maybe also under a desk on Monday. Wish me luck, kiddies. How do you deal with posers/bullies? I read an article in Oprah Magazine about not being a doormat to bullies and jerks. (My Mom got a free subscription, but I begged her to keep it active because Oprah is actually awesome, so stop judging me already.)
Well said, Josh. Well said.
The article said to write out a list of things you want to do, and then to go ahead and do them, in a specifically open-minded, respectful, yet assertive manner. Apparently, most bullies will back down when they know they're in the wrong and are called out on it. Let's hope Oprah's right on that one!
Don't be a doormat like me, cupcakes! Be a Lizzy Caplan!
My best-est friend and I on our seventeenth birthday, baking a rainbow cake! I'm the one wearing the unbelievably sexy apron. I believe the sepia-tones convey a feeling of feel-good-movie-good-timey-times.
Twins are the best thing ever. I love having a twin sister. It's like having a built-in best friend! Who's a really good cook and enjoys bread cats as much as I do! It really is magic. Like, fairy dust and glitter raining down 24/7, yo.
But seriously.
My twin sister, Maia, is the funniest, smartest, most caring, greatest person on planet Earth. Of course, everything you ever saw in The Parent Trap about twins is a lie. Actually, Sister Sister and The Suite Life of Zack and Cody are pretty accurate, but that's pretty much it as far as true-to-life interpretations of twin-dom go. I'd like to think of this post as a convenient guide to knowing twins, and being friends with twins. Never again shall you recklessly utter the phrase, "WHOA YOU GUYS ARE TWINS?!" because you will have all of this sparkly new knowledge in your brain that will make you look cool, calm, and collected in our mind-boggling presence. KNEEL PEASANTS. 'TIS EDUCATION TIME. Man, I hate reading Shakespeare in AP Literature.
Things to Remember While in the Presence of Twins
Twins are not circus animals - We are just brothers or sisters born on the same day with the same face. Once we're born, the inescapable similarities end. You've gotta believe in nurture over nature here, because its the way we're raised and the way society regards us that makes us any bit the same. If we were brought up under different households, we probably wouldn't be very similar at all. Take your own siblings for instance. You people must be similar in one aspect or another, because the same parents raised you! Now add in the same age, friends, life experiences, and teachers and viola! You have twins! Twin telepathy is a silly myth, since two unrelated friends in the same place doing the same thing are often thinking the same thing anyway. No one can read your thoughts over long distances, so relax. You know, unless you're BFF's with Edward Cullen.
We really don't care if you mix us up - There is no need to get all giggly and embarrassed if you call one of us by the wrong name, because everyone does it. Putting names to faces will come to you after a while. Really, though, even our parents mix us up sometimes on the phone. I think pets are the best at this type of thing. Take a page out of their book and stop going by physical appearance, and pay more attention to personality and gestures. I even mix the two of us up in pictures. I EVEN MIX UP OTHER PAIRS OF TWINS. Just play it off, no big deal! It happens all the time!
Twins are two, separate, (awesome!) people - Maia and Iare like day and night in some respects. We both love being silly, and we both get good grades, but that's about it. I'm into art; she's into science. I'm into crazy clothes; she's into business casual. I troll Youtube and Blogger; she reads Jane Austen. I play the guitar; she plays the piano! Do you see? Please don't feel that it's necessary to buy both of us the exact same birthday gift. We are two totally separate people, so exercise your creativity and feel the joy of buying two different gifts! It was really boring to play Barbies with my sister when we had two of every doll. And I never EVER want any of you guys to talk about dating a pair of twins at once. That NEVER happens outside of television, so keep dreaming, That's creepy and disrespectful of you anyway.
Don't try and pull us apart out of friendship-jealousy - This has happened to us so many times it's ridiculous. We're so attuned to friends jealous of our closeness, we will be able to spot your jealousy a mile away! So don't even try it. Don't spread rumors about one twin to the other, because we tell each other EVERYTHING. We might even pretend that we don't notice you obviously trying to come between us, just for our own entertainment to see how long and how far you're willing to humiliate yourself! We're best friends that live together, DEAL WITH IT. It's not like there's no room for any more friends! You just can't surpass my twin sister! No one can, so don't waste your time tryin'. We've known each other literally all our lives, and I'll never know anyone better!
Anyway, I hope this little article will debunk any of the goofy misconceptions y'all have about twins! Every pair is different, but these four truths will help you get to know each one you meet with a sense of confidence. Yay for friendship! Even as we head to separate colleges this coming fall, I know we'll stay as thick as thieves. Plus, she's studying to be a doctor, which means when I inevitably get crushed by a giant easel in art school, she'll be there to sew my arms back on! TEAMWORK, KIDDIES. Two heads (with one slightly crushed by the aforementioned easel) are better than one.
Now, go befriend yourselves some twins! You'll never go back once you do!
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Hey, it's almost Spring Break here!
Which means it's time to panic about Senior Prom and graduation!
AND HOLY JOE JONAS, COLLEGE IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER TRALALALALAaaahhhh!!!!!!!
*falls down a flight of stairs arbitrarily*
A reference to my favorite movie seemed appropriate. Zooey D. Come on, you guys.
Happy flu season! Long time, no blog! Ah, the joys of being sick. Yes, yes, I am sick right now. Please resist the urge to hide under your laptop screaming, "PLEASE DEAR GOD NO. DO NOT COUGH ON ME. I HAVE A DATE TOMORROW." Unlike stupidity and poorly-fitting jeans, you cannot catch the flu over the internet. Plus, we all know you don't have a date.
Anyway, this week is my high-school's state-testing week, which is an excuse for our state legislatures to fire teachers because Little Johnny doesn't know what the hell a derivative is, much less what the hell it would be if it had something to do with pi. Mmm, pie. I'm a senior, so I don't have to come into school at all! It was supposed to be a great week, since midterms are over, and I have a whole week ahead of me to blog, redecorate my room, go shopping, and catch up on Glee and Emily Owens. IN YOUR FACE UNDERCLASSMEN! BOW DOWN TO YOUR ELDERS. I practiced my evil laugh for a whole day in preparation!
BUT NO. We do not live in a world where good things happen to me. I've been sick since Saturday! It's Wednesday now! I've averaged being awake for 10 hours per day! GAH! During this Week O' Terrors, I've managed to leave my room in shambles after half-redoing my poster wall. I've folded zero laundry. (I never fold laundry, so I'm not sure why I mentioned this? IGNORE.) I even painted my nails black in the resulting emo-ness this sickness has brought about.
But the worst thing about being sick? COUGH SYRUP. No, not the Young the Giant song. Actual cough syrup. Thus, this post was born! I looked at my bottle of Day Quil this morning, and I realized that I've used about an entire bottle over the last five days, so I consider myself quite the expert on the syrups fo' da coughin'.
Which brings me to my point. WHY DOES COUGH SYRUP TASTE SO HEINOUS?! I mean, I get why. If drug companies made it taste too good, people would be ODing all over the place. Plus, the crap it's made of is naturally bitter. Blah blah blah. But Vicks has gone too far. TOO FAR I SAY!
Signs Vicks has gone too far:
They prescribe that you take 30 mL, EVERY FOUR GODDAMNED HOURS. In sick-teenager-speak, 30 mL = 3,000 gallons. And four hours is only time enough to watch two chick flicks! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK BETWEEN MEAN GIRLS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, AND MATERIAL GIRLS?! I actually have to get up from my blanket and pillow fortress to take MORE of that sludge? Screw that! Put on The Devil Wears Prada.
It is literally the worst-tasting thing ever invented ever. If you combined sewage, lima beans, italian dressing, freezer-burned waffles, and neopolitan ice cream, and served it atop a fresh bed of lawn clippings, it would taste like a grade A premium cut prime rib steak in comparison to Day Quil.
My face when my mom says I should take some Day Quil:
My face after taking Day Quil:
SEX-AYY
Why do they even bother putting the little pictures of fruit on the bottle? Vicks has the AUDACITY to make me think that Day Quil tastes like delicious oranges and lemons! And that Ny Quil is somehow reminiscent of berries! NO! NO THEY ARE NOT! I don't know what the hell kind of berries and citrus fruits you're eating, Vicks, but I suggest you stop buying your produce from the farmers' market adjacent to the toxic-waste plant. Just a suggestion.
The way that you cringe when you drink the stuff is an indication that maybe on the way to Rite-Aid, the Vicks truck collided with the gasoline truck. It's impossible not to cringe. Plus, it sticks to your lips like some kind of sick lip balm FOR HOURS unless you drink, like, ten quarts of Seven-Up, which will not only irritate your throat, but will also completely reverse the effects of Ny Quil in the first place. Just a tip.
Ny Quil knocks you out for WAY to long. I get wanting to sleep, because it's better that coughing your brains out, but it knocks me out for upwards of twelve hours. Like so-knocked-out-it's-reminiscent-of-elephant-tranquilizers-mixed-with-Thanksgiving-dinner-knocked-out. Some of us have places to go! Like the couch, to watch more chick flicks! Ny Quil even makes my dreams stupid.
Ways that Vicks could improve its syrups:
Make it taste better, or at least as good as ice cream covered in chocolate sauce atop a bed of crumbled brownies.
Make the dosage way smaller. Like one droplet you only have to take once a year, mixed with chocolate fudge.
Make it work better.
Rename it Day Kill, because then it would be truthful advertising.
Provide a complimentary mouthwash or ice-cream sundae with each bottle, for washing the horrid taste out of your mouth.
Provide a complimentary elf to dance humorously for those who are unlucky enough to have to take cough medicine at all.
Make that elf go to school for the sick person and also braid the sick person's hair into beautiful plaits that make her look like Rapunzel.
Also make the elf read stories to the sick person.
Include steak with each purchase.
So, anyone who wants to email these lists to Vicks, feel free. Plus, sending me presents would make me feel better sooner! Like some Omaha steaks! Wow, this post has made me realize how much of a meat-atarian I really am. Plus, now I want steak.
