Also Known As A Striped Flower?

bi·zarre adj \be-zär\ a: strikingly out of the ordinary, odd, extravagant, or eccentric in style or mode b : involving sensational contrasts or incongruities bizarre noun \be-zär\ a flower with a typical striped marking Today….was interesting, intriguing, bizarre, and any other synonym you can find of the word. It all started at precisely 7:50 am this Friday morning. As the hair-raising buzz of my alarm clock awoke me from my much needed slumber, I slapped the snooze button, groaned, and began to roll over when my hazy eyes fell upon an opposite pair. Wide, dilated, brilliant, glowing, emerald eyes peered up at me from beneath my blankets. These startling lookers were surrounded by frizzy, gray fluff and a shiny black nose which was being repeatedly tasted by a tiny pink tongue. What a site to wake up to. The even weirder thing is…my cat(Clyde) wouldn’t be caught dead under the blankets! But, for some reason, today he was. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I gently patted his head and rolled the opposite way and out of bed. So, I went down to my Pop’s desk to search for his USB stick so I could transfer my essay for Expository Compisition onto his computer to print. No cigar. I continued in my sleepy state to fumble around in search of a blank CD-R. Still nothing. But soft! What light from yonder window breaks? Tis the East and Liam my Ipod is the sun! Arise fair sun and transfer my essay to be printethed!….I just remembered what my Ipod indeed was….a mass USB storage device. All those times I needed to transfer something and I came up empty handed…the answer was literally singing in my ears. So, I printed it! But…the printer was out of ink. Ehh, I went and readied myself for school and peeked into the refrigerator for lunch. Guess what I found? A cannister of tea! Blasphemy! How did my dad know that my friend Mimi had brought a cannister that looked almost identcal to mine filled with tea to school only the day before? By now, it’s 8:20(first period excused). Let us time skip an hour. There I was sitting in Journalism in my seat in the very back beside some boy whose name I have no knowledge of and just as I went to write my daily journal, I remembered I left my pencil case at Mimi’s house. Facepalm. I, then, reluctantly turn to the boy beside me and ask in a sweet, polite voice if I may borrow a pencil. He’s smacking his gum when he turns to me and says, “Got any lead?”. To which I respond with a shake of the head. He then digs in his backpack and slams a pencil atop my desk and tells me to keep it before inspecting me and asking, “Wanna mini-stapler?” To which I reply,”Ummm, a-a mini-stapler?” He nods his head, still smacking on his gum.”Uhh, no thanks.” I reply. He then shrugged and slouched back into his seat. Odd. Time skip four hours. It’s 5th period Economics and I check in because I’m about to go donate blood in the gym. A myriad of questions and big, frightful eyes stamped an invisible sign on my forehead which read IT’S MY FIRST TIME. The helpers all gave me a sympathetic look as if they were saying, “Aww, look at the baby.” My friend tugged me along to the waiting area where she stuffed both my face and bag with food. (My favorite was the canned Cranberry juice.) My turn soon came and I was whisked away by nurses into a make-shift privacy booth. She asked my information, took my blood pressure then brought out THE device……..<~~~FML moment. Now, I usually don’t care about getting shots. If anything, it amuses me. (Like that’s not weird at all.) But there’s one thing I can’t stand …. finger pricking. The nurse snickered at my face which had, “I did NOT sign-up for this.” written all over it. Alas, I gulped and took it like a champ. Prick. Nope. “Oopsie. Let me try that again. Other hand please.” Prick. Nope. “Shoot. I’m just not with it today.” By this time I’m looking to the sky pleading for a miracle to save me. So, she tries once more…which was successful but something was wrong with the machine that tests for iron levels…and it spit out an extremely low number…7.6. Wow, what? The nurse mutters something to herself and hurries out of the booth, leaving me in confusion. A few moments later, a legit doctor lady comes in and takes the nurses place. She apologizes and goes to finger prick yet again with the results turning up the same. If the standard is 12.5 and I’m 7.6…shouldn’t I be dead or something?? She mumbled something I thought was, “There’s no way.” and…yes, went to prick me AGAIN. By this time I was already crippled from the toture which is the pricking of finger tips and didn’t notice she had done it again. This time, the reader displayed 11.6. “That’s better, but still unhealthy. Unfortunately, we cannot allow you to donate blood. Take some iron tablets and see us in three months! Help yourself to the snack bar and make sure to grab a t-shirt on your way out.” And I did just that. I left to Calligraphy with band-aids on nearly every finger (just like Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors haha) and my well deserved Blood Drive t-shirt. Though, I did have a good time in Calligraphy eating quadruple stuffed Nutter Butters, failing at attempting Mimi’s Algebra 1 homework (sad, I know.), and being an accomplice in a classmate water gun shooting. But the ever present throbbing in my fingertips was a dull, continuous reminder of my previous demise. Time skip two hours. I can sleep anywhere and everywhere…my stepmom calls me a hobo. What can I say? I need my afternoon nap. It’s funny, when I was little, I absolutely despised nap time with my mother. There was so much to be done! Bikes to ride (with training wheels, of course.), stray dogs to catch, concoctions to be made, fake lives to live in little plastic toddler houses, friends to play Power Rangers with. You name it…the list goes on. And I did everything in my power to evade prison, otherwise known as nap time. So, there I was sleeping on my Stepmom’s Ma’s couch, dreaming my troubles away when I’m awakened by a tingly, wet sensation on my earlobe. The puppy who they call Logan, was nibbling on my ear. Like that doesn’t happen everyday, right? The rest of my day was normal. The end.

…Signing Off…
~*~Rommie~*~

Lol.

Alright, it takes a while for the water in my shower to warm up and my tub has one of those old drains that is like a piece of metal with circular holes in it, not like an industrial drain but a sort of whimpy make-shift one. So, when I turn on the shower, the water is cold and because the drain is retarded, it takes longer for the water to drain from the tub causing a shallow puddle. I had forgotten that it does this and just wanted to get in because I was cold and so, I was showered with, to my surprise, scalding hot water whilst stepping into freezing water at the same time…which caused me to make this really weird noise…like a sort of squeal because it scared me…and my dad was freaking out outside of the bathroom door because I had flailed about noisly knocking the shower curtain down. But..after I put the curtain back up and turned down the water’s heat..everything went smoothly.

In "_____" We Trust

Let's talk about religion.
Now, for those of you not able to understand the title of this blog entry, (perhaps because you live in a far away country or maybe within the mysterious 4th dimension of time)...somewhere printed on the face of the US dollar, are the words "In God we trust." As you can see, the title of this entry is a play on the aforementioned phrase, so to speak. My whole life up until about a year ago, I had labeled myself as a member of the Christian religion...always praying before meals/bed time, knowing my verses and commandments, and most of all accepting Jesus Christ as my savior. And that's just the thing....it had been instilled in me all my years, that those were the things expected from me as a child of God and those very things were essential to my being and needed to be done. I soon got so into the habit of doing these things that they came automatically...almost robotically from me. There was 0 raw, heart-felt emotion in performing these practices on my end. I became so used to it...that it just didn't stir up any of my own thoughts and feelings about the subject. This is when I stopped. I swore to myself that I absolutely would not lie about something like this....it just wasn't right. I don't want to lie about being a believer when I question God's very existence...when I go to church and just...don't "feel Him". Yet, there were problems in my hiatus from religion, as well. Today, I got tired of being how I am when it comes to religion.....only believing when I needed or wanted something....even though it contradicts my promise to myself. I'd pray and ask for things out of my own selfishness and greed....yet, they came true. This makes me want to believe so badly. This makes me want to embrace Christianity with all I am...but I just can't. The Bible bores me to tears...sermons lull me to sleep...even standing before a stage at youth group and cheering on the local band wears me to exhaustion. I wish to be an honest Christian with every fiber of my being....but I just....don't know how.

...Signing Off...
~*~Rommie~*~

Emergency Post

So, one of my two cats was laying on my bed. I sat beside her and this is what happened.

Me: "Hi.... I know you don't particularly care for me. Trust me...if a little girl had put me into a Scooby Doo Mystery Machine suitcase and rolled me around the house against my will too...I would be a little leery of her right with you. I know I cannot change the past...but the truth is...is you're extremely soft...and I really enjoy petting you on occasion."

Cat: "........."

Me: "So...if we could both forget the treacherous things I've put you through..and have a sort of unsaid agreement of me allowing you to lounge atop my bed and you allowing me to pet you with care...that would really make me happy."

Cat: ".........."

This is when I go to hug her and she growls at me, hisses at me, and runs away. #MyLifeIsAvereage

...Signing Off...
~*~Rommie~*~

Fluorescent Adolescent

Whoa. Where have I been? Oh dear...oh boy...oh my...holy cats! I've left you without my thoughts for far too long, my dear readers. Alas! I have returned. ^_^~ So. This entry will be rather long and all over the place. I am determined to fill you in on all that's happened in my oh-so-mundane life while I've been away. Also, due to popular inquiry, (not really I just wanted a good excuse) I have this to say... I am not trying to keep my identity secret. I just feel that it's a bit of knowledge that doesn't exactly need to be known while you read this. However, if you manage to figure out who I am...congratulations! You deserve a pat on the back. :3 Now, enough of my rambling and on with the entry.


Here are a few pictures of my beloved chamber. ( Please excuse the poor quality...camera phone. Eghh. c)x )

  

So, there you have it. That is my lovely room. As you can see...I'm still child-like. Heh. I ran out of room on my bookshelf, by the way. :( Where ever shall I place my readings now? >_< I love how smart and official I can make myself sound. Haha!~ Oh..wait..I just thought of something. How come whenever you learn a new word it starts popping up everywhere? There should be a word for that. Indubitably.

Just the other day, I was carrying a plate and a bowl full of saucy food down to the living room to watch my favorite television show ever, (Ghost Adventures haha) when I took a nasty spill down the two stairs that lead from my dining room to the living room. Food, sauce, silverware, and human limbs went flailing about before gravity brought everything down. There was salad dressing INSIDE the fireplace...barbecue sauce on the windows, and a mixture of the two threaded through strands of my hair. And as I lay there...folded over into a fetal-like position, pain and shock twisted in my expression, the jingling of collars and the tap-tapping of nails on hardwood flooring could be heard in the distance, getting ever louder. As my two dogs ran down to my aid..or so I thought was their purpose for running over...they made a sharp turn, bounding around my fragile form and over to the freshly-painted-with-food walls. How sad is that! My dogs would totally sell me out at the first sign of food.

Anyways.

I realized....I blush wildly when reading about romance. I'm a very shy person but a total hopeless romantic. And I must confess, it's taken me 5 minutes to go from the previous sentence to this one because I started daydreaming...err...late afternoon dreaming? Some day....some day, my wild little rabbit heart will throb with excitement, my chubby pale cheeks will flush crimson with embarrassment, and my eyes will cast themselves downwards only to land upon the shoes of the one standing in front of me...of whom I will be too shy to hold direct eye contact with. Nervous fingers will yearn for theirs, arms will ache with the need to hold them, and a throat will gulp with the realization that it is actually happening. The realization that I fell in love. I'm blushing just typing this! >////< Heh... some day. ^///^~

Rommie is short for Romulus. No, I'm a girl.

I like getting mail...it's very exciting. It's been a very exciting thing for me my whole life. Oh, how happy I'd be to receive an envelope officially addressed to none other than me. I like sending mail too..because I like the fact that I might be making someone just as excited as I was and still get. I have a box of band-aids...they have cute little baby owls on them and they're very colorful...would it be weird if I were to put a single one in an envelope and send it to somebody? I kind of feel like doing that. I like spontaneity in people.

I have a Velociraptor pen named Philosoraptor...but...one of his hands fell off. Must find that Krazy Glue.... Without his left hand, he can't have friendly duels with my snake pen named Senior Zippie (Yes, Senior as in Jr. Sr.). He also can't itch my face when it's itchy and I don't feel like using my hands. Here's a picture of him. 

Well, I've been sitting at my desk, typing this entry up for the past 2 hours...so I'm off. We'll catch up more later. :)

...Signing Off...

~*~Rommie~*~

The Dangling Conversation

As made famous by: Simon and Garfunkel

It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives
Yes, we speak of things that matter, With words that must be said
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation. And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives

I really like this song. ^_^~

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

Here's Something To Think About

Okay so, you're in a public place. Naturally, you look at people, right? That person, the one you're looking at, has no idea you're looking at them.

Now pay attention.

The person you're looking at will eventually be in your position; looking at some random person, which most possibly could be you and you, like them, will have no idea that they are looking at you.

If you think about it, when you're in a public place, you'll never be able to escape the gazes of on-lookers who, in turn, include you yourself.

...Signing Off...
~*~Rommie~*~

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2