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I'm Melissa; pretend journalist and currently real-life accountant wannabe. I used to be a kid in highschool, but I've since kicked the habit. At 18 years of age I'm just moving through life, enjoying my free-time and earning lots of money whilst still living with my parents. Continued on page 2...

Annoyances
January 31, 2004 | Filed under: Bitching

“I can't run anymore, I fall before you. Here I am; I have nothing left. Though I tried to forget, you're all that I am. Take me home.. I'm through fighting it. Broken, lifeless - I give up. You're my only strength. Without you, I can't go on anymore, ever again Evanescence - October”

In life, there are some things that just tick you off. Whether it’s because you genuinely have something to be annoyed about, or there’s something that’s silent but deadly in its plans to piss you off, there is always something around to do it. I’ve decided to dedicate this post to those annoying things (yes, they’ve won over me and I must divulge to you what they are in order to control myself), as I’ve been ranting a lot lately. A taste of my frustration, if you will.

// Parents. Particularly mothers. If somehow I ever manage to get a hold of the official ‘Mother’s job description,’ I’m going to cross a hell of a lot of their jobs off the list. A mother is not to go out of her way to annoy the child, and a mother is not to be over-protective. After going out to put put golf (as I mentioned in my last post I think), we went back to Tom’s house, and my mother had a psycho at me because I didn’t tell her prior to going out (even though I didn’t know at that stage) that I was going there, and that I wanted to be picked up at 10 or 10:30. I’m 15; 16 later on in this year, and yet she’s mothering me to a point of being unbearable. She will instruct me on how I should do something, even if I know how to do it. She will instruct me on what things I need to do, and she will tell me that I should be doing something else if I’m doing anything that I remotely enjoy. Get off my case, you stupid old woman, I know how to organise myself.

// Dolly/Cleo tweenie buzz words. Why is the word “fuzz” cool? What’s wrong with using the word “stubble,” or even “leg hair”? Why do we need an insanely pathetic and unrelated word to describe such a thing? Fuzz. The totally cool way to describe the hair on your legs or otherwise. :P Also, “jizz” (I think we like words that end in “zz”), what’s with that word? Yet again unrelated, pathetic, and 100% tween magazine. Enough said.

// Dr Croyle. Dr Croyle is my PD/H/PE teacher (personal development/health/physical education). As can be gathered, he insists that he be called Dr Croyle because he managed to scrape up a PHD in something or other. He’s American (not a whole lot against individual Americans, but you have horrible accents), old, makes the hell beasts on Buffy look “totally hot,” and he stands out the front of the room SWEATING. If we were to stand him in the middle of our river catchments, he would be able to fill them up to their full level with his sweat. It’s disgusting; by the end of the lesson he practically needs to change his shirt because it’s soaking in it. Consequently, the shirt clings to his body (yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is enough to turn off an old man on viagra), and you can see the enormous freaking bulbous mutation that he calls a belly button. Boy will that lesson (that I have to have 1st period Friday for the rest of the year) scar me for life.

// Teenage social lives. You have your nerds, your skanks/man whores, your populars, your plebs (who the populars believe are totally uncool), and your antisocial weirdos. Fortunately *cough* I’m able to associate with a large variety on a daily basis. My group is like an entire soap opera, the only difference being that it doesn’t take 5 episodes for Johnny to get through telling Jane that he’s seeing someone else. It’s almost at an incestuous stage of inter-dating, and they’re not even related. It’s like one morning they wake up and subconsciously decide they want to swap partners, but have to go through the dramatic stage of ultimate heartbreak when their “honey” decides (s)he wants to cling to someone else. Hell, I don’t need to watch The Bold and The beautiful anymore; I have teenage friends!

// Cool. What is cool? How do you attain it? How do you make it there? You be yourself. There are so many idiots that are changing their entire “look” so that they can gain a ++ factor in the coolness department, and it makes them look like such tryhard losers. Seriously, changing your appearance to that of the “alternative” lifestyle does not make you any cooler; your bags with pins in them, black nail polish, long unkempt hair and choice of music does not make you any more of a cool person than Joe Blogs who listens to Diorama, which is totally uncool man and makes all Silverchair horrible, even if you secretly listen to your copy of Neon Ballroom that you hide under your bed along with your dirty socks. Being intelligent isn’t something of which you ought to be ashamed (yeah, I actually bothered talking properly in that clause. Oh, hey, what’s a clause? Idiot), and you don’t need to brag to your little friends about all the concerts you’ve been to, because chances are they don’t give a damn.

Composed by Melissa at 9:38pm ·

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