Best antifeminist argument ever.

Well, maybe not ever. But it was good.

Aunt: You wouldn't be wearing pants if there weren't feminists
Me: You wouldn't be wearing cotton if there weren't slaves.

I win.

Why today was substantially better than any other day for the past month or so.

Today I went on a feild trip for the first time since 8th grade. Four girls from Journalism and I rode in the rickety old school van all the way to the University of LaVerne for Communications Day.

It was amazing.

Yeah. I'm pretty certain I have to be friends with Katelyn, Aurora, Angelis, and Christina for the rest of my life. I'll try to explain the awesomeness pictorally.

*I did not say vagrant. But I did say I was thinking of becoming a professional Jazz musician. Which is just as good.

**I honestly can't remember what they said. I'm sorry.



And they still like me! (or at least pretend to...) Maybe they'll stop, because I'm pretty sure I spelt everyone's name wrong. My apologies.

and to end this on a good note....

Did you know some lady knowingly rode around with a mummified homless lady in her backseat for 3-10 months? 

So when do I get to the "real world"?

I posted this on tumblr like a month ago but I'm deleting a good chunk of my stuff on there and making it just my (mediocre) poetry. But I love this post and I want it to live. If you're insane and want proof that other people are too, chloekiyoko.tumblr.com

I want to be real. Not like “real” like I’m not being myself… because I am me, and that’s all I can ever be. But I would like to feel permanent. Like if I left someone would would say “hey, I miss that girl. She did something good for my life” Not just fade to the back of peoples memories.
You see, I’ve been thinking about leaving. To college. To life. Whatever. The point is, Alta Loma just isn’t cutting it for me right now. I’ve lived in the same room in the same house for the entirety of my young life. I want to get out.
I want to be in the “real world”. You know, like what all those grown-ups talk about. Like when I graduate high school I’ll get sucked into some vortex, and be spit out in a cubicle wearing an awkwardly fitting pantsuit.
But I’d rather wear ugly pantsuits than be lied to. Because if there’s no vortex and no life changing alteration that comes from basically wasting four years of my life in this purgatorial wasteland, I’m going to be pissed.

I realized today that I can't swallow a drink and breath in at the same time.

But this story isn't about me. This is about how my mom tramatized a whole class of kindergarteners today.

When my mom was about thirteen, she had an accident on a skateboard and knocked all of her front teeth (precisely why I've never been on one). Anywho, she got a replacement set and all was fine and dandy... sort of. My mother is exceedingly accident-prone, especially when it comes to her teeth (they've been knocked out by the dog, a sprinkler, our van...).

So my mom is teaching phonetics today to her kindergarteners when.... yep. Her tooth goes sailing across the room into the crowd of thoroughly disillusioned 5-year olds. Now my mother is not the youngest lady in town, and could not find her tooth, so she employs the help of a few of her students to retreive it for her, after which she convinces them she is the witch from Hanzel and Gretel (which they read earlier in the day) and is likely to eat them up if they don't behave.

Moral of this story? Mom rocks.

This post was originally an angry ramble. But now it's different.

stop making me hate you. You wouldn't have to waste all that energy flipping me off for that snarky comment if you weren't blocking my pathway with your escapades. Yeah, I get it, you're in motherf***ing love. STOP RUBBING IT IN MY FACE. The cuteness is burning my eyeballs out. I don't think your tongue will fall off if you keep it in your mouth just two more seconds. And if I'm trying to talk to you I will not stop in the middle of my sentence so you can mac on your honey. really. You're making me hate everyone and everything.

Things are better now because Holly Hart and I got pie. And I almost let go of my hate for awhile. Sometimes I think I'm Ingrid. Other days I'm Jocasta. But I'm never the hero. Maybe I'll buy an acordian and join a band. Maybe I'll fall off the earth.

Listen to Cocaine Blues (Johnny Cash). You'll be a better person.

This is why I shouldn't be allowed on the internet.

Yesterday on a whim, I google'd a name I had come across earlier in the day: John Wayne Gacy.
NEVER EVER DO THAT.
My face looked something like this:

I consoled myself by thinking of the difference between hair bands and Hair Bands

And I listened to "The View" by Modest Mouse. You should too. They're great.

I love my friends.

Really. And not like I love puppies, or tacos, or shoes. I REALLY love my friends. And not just my BESTBESTBEST friends either (well, yeah they're included, but not just them) . People don't realize how the little stuff makes me feel so good.

Take Holly Hart for example. She is so pretty and great she could probably go her whole life without ever having to be nice. But she is a total sweet-hart (pun intended). She says something nice to me everyday, and even though I only see her in one class a day, I love her to death.

Or Dylan Price. He cheered me up by saying "Pretend ---- forgot her gauntlets... then blew up" which led me to imagine this:



Which made me forget my anger and giggle.

Yeah, there are many other people who I can give specific instances about. But instead I'll just list some. No order.

Rachel Riehn. Almost everyone in journalism. Liz Toeller. KT Rosenthal.

There're more. But im tired.