Life is traumatic for the average seventeen year old girl. That alone would be comforting, if I resembled something average. Instead, you get a high school senior who has never had a boyfriend, is leaving for college in eight months, and has so much high school life left to live. Also, I strive to serve my Creator every day, and I often do a right job of muddling it up. Plus, boys are really cute and I'm not cute enough. If I could add to my plate, i'll utter this audacity: Pre-Calculus. (shudder)
I promise I'm not a Debbie Downer in life. I prefer to live it glass half full, and accept all my quirks for what they are. This blog is just me telling my life and all that happens in it. So without further ado, I give to you the humorous, accidentally intellectual, snarky, wreaking of adolescence, but quite entertaining: The Olive Blog.
Finals Week
Can you smell that? That's the smell of victory. Yes, it's true; with the exception of the dreaded Pre-Cal, I, Olive, have earned exemption from her final exam's this week. Basically to be exempt, you have to have only two absences in nine weeks and an 85 semester average. Plus, the absences for seniors on finals day (if you're exempt) will not count against last nine weeks OR next nine weeks absences so that means..... NO SCHOOL TILL TUESDAY. HalleuYUHHHH TRICK. That gives me plenty of time to go to work (and earn more money), watch TV, read my English book that is due Tuesday [SIDE NOTE: I don't mind reading, but if I knew The Odyssey was going to be this lame, I wouldn't have picked it. Definently not as good as I remember it freshmen year.] hang with friends, sleep, and text more often.
That doesn't sound too thrilling, as opposed to going clubbing or hobnobbing at some swank party. It's not like we don't have those opportunities here- it's just not really my scene. My friends and I prefer to go Cosmic Bowling and risk ruining our North Face jackets with cigarette stench in favor of gutter balls and "bro photos." {BRO PHOTO- a picture where a girl who has no romantic interest in a group of "bros" ,is allowed to take a photo with said bros, thus BECOMING a bro. It is a great honor.}
Though we are not poor, we aren't made of money either. So when we don't have the green to spend wining and dining ourselves, we resort to Facebook. Countless fun can be found there by chatting, playing IT Girl and other asinine Facebook games, posting videos, and creeping.
Ahh, Creeping. Why people pretend to be appalled that I creep is beyond me. EVERYONE creeps (note to young kids- be wary what you post... EVERYONE WILL see it.) Creeping though, is how I discover many of my "boyfriends". {"boyfriend"- when in lower case and with quote marks, it is not anybody's REAL boyfriend, but merely someone you have a crush on, and you carry on annoying your friends with chatter about how they're you're boyfriend. A single girl's only solace.} Out of these "boyfriends" though, I have had some real life crushes emerge- the Unattainable, the All Star, Best Friend, Dream Crusher, and most recently, Potential Soul Mate. Let's talk about PSM, since he is most recent.
PSM is my friend's older brother. He is only one year older than me, but that means he's in college, and also, he is MY FRIEND'S OLDER BROTHER. Is it my fault he is so cute, has the same music taste as me, the same sense of humor as me, is picky like me, plays the piano, and has the ultimate bro style that I go crazy for? {BRO STYLE- total bro; known to wear fitted hats, basketball shorts, Nike socks and slip on sandals, tshirts, hoodies, sometimes jeans, but when they clean up, they are not afraid to break out that button down.} Plus, he loves Jesus. OH MY GOODNESS, can someone slap me with a brick of love?!
Obviously, he is way too gorgeous and beautiful to ever be my boyfriend. My friends all say that is not true. That I am beautiful, a natural beauty. Blah Blah Blah. Here's the secret- until earlier this year, I used to be fat. ( I weigh 140 now, which is NOT FAT. It is AVERAGE for being 5'4.... you guys need to get your realities checked. ) White fat girls come with what I like to call Fat Girl Confidence. Which basically means... I don't have any. At all. It is so sad, and pathetic-I know. Every time I look in the mirror though, all i see is fat, my big nose, and squinty eyes.
Don't be deceived though- I know what's most important. " ... for the Lord looks at the heart...." I try to always be honest, funny, smart, and I am really nice. So much so, I sometimes get taken advantage of... but I'm lucky to have true friends who are not afraid to call someone out and beat them up for me- with their words. True ladies can fight with their eyes. ;) I always stand up for what I believe in, and don't cuss. ( Though, I do like to sing Lonely Island songs in the car... when no one is around of course!) Gag. I sound like a goody good loser. Maybe I am. What of it? I'm not afraid to punch a *itch if someone I love needs defending. That's what you call a classy lady.
ANYWAYS- I have been stalking PSM for weeks now. He knows who I am of course... how, I don't know. Today though, he posted on my wall. I think he was playing some cruel joke though, because when I got back on Facebook tonight after church, he was in a relationship! What a joke. I have to be honest though, it's kind of a relief.
You see, I'm not like most girls. Whenever someone I like is single, I try and try my hardest to flirt (though I'm very bad and don't know how, so it basically means I don't talk to them and do masses of wishful thinking) and get them to like me as fast as possible, because obviously someone as great as them won't be on the market for long. However, once they do enter said relationship, which I knew they'd be in all along, I immediately stop liking them- just like that. Picture, if you will, a giant switch, the one that has the handle that sticks out that evil scientists use; when I have a crush on someone, it is flipped on. BUT, as soon as I discover they are in a relationship, it flicks off. Just like that. I could never like someone else's man- that is cruel. Obviously, I want my future soul mate to be desirable, but to find out someone was pursuing him? That is just wrong. Leave that to the dirty skanks on Jersey Shore and Taylor Swift.
It is truly alot of work, getting someone to like you. I'm told you shouldn't HAVE to get a boy to pursue you, but I haven't exactly seen any boy knocking down my door to tell me how beautiful I am. If he did, he'd probably be 5'7 with acne and a cow lick. Sad day, I don't even attract those kind of boys. Oh well... I hear college is a whole other playing field. I mean, I've waited this long...
That's pretty much it for today. I promise, my life is not all boy drama. I have a lot more to tell you, plus so many exciting things are happening. There is never a dull moment. I can't wait to fill you guys in soon!!!
Love you guys. Be safe. Don't do drugs and drink- but if you do, don't jive. Look both ways, practice safe breath. Eat your fruits but forget your vegetables.
Love Always,
Love Always,
Olive :)
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