Home Sweet....

Home is where the heart is. If by "heart" you mean screaming mother, loneliness and a constant feeling of impending doom and claustrophobia, why then whoever wrote that cliche statement must have a similar home life to mine.

I'm not being as dreamo (dramatically emo) as i sound right now. I just hate being in a place where I have less close friends than my dog, although those 2 or 3 friends are the people who make life worth living.

Anyway, I am in desperate need of something to do.... a structured life. I can't wait for the kids to be out of school so my summer job can start. My days of late have consisted of me sleeping until noon/1-ish, watching movies, eating Mac and Cheese (an entire box..... alone.... it's all we have, really), and.... well, not much. I am trying not to spend the speck of money that I possess right now, so basically my options in life are very small right now. I can't go to the movies, I can't eat unhealthy food, and I can't shop or drive anywhere..... that list of things is interchangeable with my list of favorite things to do in life. You can see how this poses a problem and causes said state of claustrophobia.

Anyway, I attended my little brother's middle school awards ceremony at my alma mater, Cottage Grove Junior High tonight. The fam was tied up in the usual sports commitments and fancy dinners, so I, being the only one without a life, was delegated as the moral support to watch Robert accept his one award: the Presidential Silver, which went to someone who was involved with school activities AND had a high GPA, but not as many school activities and not as high of a GPA as those who received the Presidential GOLD. So really the sentiment of his award was rather cheapened when they announced the Gold recipients immediately after.

Anyway, I hate people at that middle-school age. The girls were all way too scantily clad for my tastes. I usually make it a rule that the more braces and acne you have, the more clothes you should have on. What the boys lacked in sluttiness they made up for in Gay. That awkward, lanky, "I-don't-know-it-yet" gay. We've all been there. Or perhaps only me..... either way it made me sick with unwanted nostalgia.

Isn't it a strange phenomena that whenever you go back to place where you spent SO much time when you were younger, and that place just seems impeccably smaller? Like it was maybe made for midgets (excuse me, little people)? I mean, i wasn't THAT much shorter when I was in 9th grade so it couldn't possibly be that I just grew so much that I felt like Gandalf in the hobbit hole at my old junior high. I just think it's really easy to belittle things with an outsider's eye. Deep.

I have attempted to watch "Alien" for the first time twice today. The first was earlier and I fell asleep right away due to my narcolepsy, which has a strange link to literature and cinema.... whenever I try to enjoy either I am conked out within minutes. It truly is strange. The second time is now... when i have every intention of falling asleep during it, which is probably not a good idea because I don't want to have nightmares about a nasty-ass alien OR sigourney weaver, for that matter.

Whoops I forgot to capitalize sigourney. Did it again. Is it a sign of disrespect to un-capitalize the beginning of one's name? I think in the future it should be written "george w bush" so that he doesn't get the capitalization OR the punctuation of a real person.

Totes Defs time for bed/Alien,

Matty