Day 70: Don't Hate, Just Don't Do It.

     True Religion corduroy pants, red sweater, white scarf.
     I cant make people love me.  I cant make people want to be my friend.  I try to maintain the relationships I have, though.  I try to be generous, I try to be kind.
     I have never given anyone an excuse to hate me.  The world is a screwy place, and there are a select few who would say that they hate me.
     Its such a strong word: Hate.  You don't realize the impact it has until it is personal.  Like I said, I cant make people be my friend, so if I'm not your friend, don't be hating.  You're wasting your time.  There are so many things you could be doing with your time instead of hating.  I dunno, maybe LOVING.
     A life of hate is truly a sad existence.  People recognize the hate and you and mark you for that.
     I don't "hate" anyone.  I don't particularly like some people, but I don't hate them.  Why would I?  I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone enough to hate them.  Except for my best friends, but I would never hate them.
     Moral of the story is don't hate.  Did you catch that?

Day 69: Sixteen Going On Seventy

      Blazer, sparkled striped shirt, jeans that don't fit me, TOMS (yet again).
      I watch the news every morning.  I love to sit down with a cup of coffee and watch Matt Lauer and Anne Curry talk about depressing and/or uplifting current events.  Apparently, not a lot of teenagers do that.
      Sometimes I think that I'm actually an adult.  That somehow my DNA got mixed up.
      I love to talk about politics.  I love to discuss the news.  I watch the History channel for fun.  I Tivo "Biography" on PBS.  These are all things that sad old people do.
      Like I said, sometimes I think I'm an old person, but then I realize that I talk like a valley girl and have a vampire obsession; I'm a teenager after all.

Day 68: Hipsters

     Grey Juicy jacket, nude cami, black pencil skirt, see through striped maxi dress/skirt.
     Four, count them... FOUR, hipsters came up to me today complimenting my skirt.  I had no idea who they were, but I saw right through their jealousy as they were really implying "that skirt is so freaky and hipster that I'm mad I didn't think of something that bizarre.
     I'm not directly implying that my skirt wasn't very trendy, because it was if I do say so myself.
     Hipsters, for those of you who don't know, are modern day hippies.  They look very dirty and rugged, wear clothes that are supposed to look so ugly that its trendy.  They worship nature and hate politics, yet encourage recycling.
     In modern day Danville California, hipster is the opposite of their goal of being unique... It is mainstream.
     Kids at Monte Vista spend hundreds of dollars to look so poor.  Hipsters.  I once aspired to be a hipster, this I am ashamed of.  I need so desperately to be different, and being mainstream just wont work out for me.  In a hipsters eyes, being with the trends is too ordinary, therefore they branch out to crazy things.  I suppose this means Ill be going back to being normal in order to be abnormal.  That's a mind twister.
     I respect hipsters, I'm friends with many.  They make me laugh though.  They make me laugh.
    

Day 67: Short Post

     Flannel pajama bottoms, blue sweater, and TOMS.
     TOMS Tuesday and PJ day, what a bonus.
     Being comfortable is important.  But when it comes to fashion:  Beauty is pain. 
     Winter means cold.  Cold means discomfort.  Nobody likes being cold, but I manage to deal.  You see, I think about it in harsh terms.  Basically I would rather freeze to death then burn to death.  Extreme, I know, but I try to be careful what I wish for.
     I don't mind being cold as long as I look good.
    

Day 66: Swim Day 1

      Striped sweater, TOMS, jeans, black shirt.
      My outfit today was super ugly, so lets forget about it... Enjoy these pictures of me dressed up as the Russian Grand Duchess Olga Katrina.
      Today marked the first day of winter swim.  It was dreadful.  Considering that I never work out anymore, it was as if someone was slowly torturing me to death.  I'm lying, it wasn't that bad, but it was a challenge.
      So I did what any other person would do:  I rewarded myself.  I got a large Diet Coke at McDonald's simply because I could.  I drive, I have money.
      I'm going to be so sore for the next couple of days.  That's so sad.  I'm weak.  This kind of talk isn't me putting myself down, no, its me being my own personal "tough love" trainer.  I do a pretty good job...
      My chub will remain chub throughout the swim season.  I never lose weight, but I don't mind.  Its probably all of that McDonald's...

Day 65: Clean.

     White lace dress, camouflage green sweater, brown booties.
     I am NOT a needy person.  I do insist, however, that everything is perfect when it comes to hygiene.
     I like clean things.  Who doesn't?  So I like things a little more clean then the average person... Yes, I may wash my hands between passing periods and Lysol keyboards... Sue me.
     I just don't want to get sick.  Being sick is the worst.  Sharing sickness is even worse.
     Me and my little sister share a room and a closet.  She is not as particular as I am when it comes to cleanliness of clothing.  I have a weird fear that shes going to transfer her middle school germs onto me when I wear her clothes.  Maybe I'm just paranoid?
     Nope, I'm right.
     Its cold and flu season.  Getting sick is practically a given.  I warn you people, WASH YOUR HANDS so you can put off getting sick for just a little while longer.  Drink water, too.  I have no idea why, but doctors always say consume liquids, and they primarily know what they're talking about.  Make good choices, don't share drinks!  Unless its a smoothie, those things are tempting.

Day 64: Makeup

     Grey sweater, green floral scarf, jeans, Vans.
     Today was one of those days where I struggled to get myself out of bed.  When I looked in the mirror, I just stared.
     I didn't wear makeup today.  This a decision I was so happy I made.  I thought that I would be self-conscience at school because not many people have seen me without my makeup mask before.  At school, it didn't matter what they thought because I spent the whole day rubbing my eyes.  You know why?  BECAUSE I COULD!  Makeup is so restricting!  If I rubbed my eyes with makeup on during school, I would end up looking like a raccoon.  Maybe that's a sign I should lay off the eyeliner.