*me complaining about responsibility*

To whoever I've ever told that I wanted to grow up: I take it back. Growing up is not fun at all. I don't even feel like a human anymore, I feel like a little robot. All I do is go from place to place, attempting to fulfill my many responsibilities and still manage to get some sleep in between (that part doesn't always happen). And at age 17, in all of these places I am just pushed around. I'm always the inferior, I'm always bugging someone for help, and I'm always surrounded by people I don't really want to be around. I really just want to take a step back, be alone, and breathe for two seconds, but apparently that's not in the description of being an adult. Isn't that gross? I'll be 18 this year. Disgusting.
In other news, I'm switching jobs. Sayonara, McDonald's. (or should I say Adios?) I'm a Panda Express girl now. It's been real, but I'm not getting paid enough for the crap I have to deal with.
Also, at the new semester, I've started a Creative Writing class. I've decided I'll post some of the things I write for my class on here, so you guys can read something other than me ranting and complaining about my life. As much as everyone loves that..

The Evolution of my Eyebrows

I'm 100% sure that anyone who is really close to me saw this post coming. I've struggled with my eyebrows for years. This weekend, when my mom had me clean out some old school things and pictures, I was reminded of all of the horrific states my poor brows have been in. So enjoy this series of photos, and feel free to shed a tear or two on my face's behalf. (BONUS CONTENT: Crappily applied make up)

 2009: All natural

2010: Waxed and kind of tweezed

2010:  Extremely over-tweezed

2011: Growing back

2012: Grown out, but thin and invisible

2013: .....Eyebrow penciled

2013: Misshapen and overdrawn

2013: Toned down

2014

So basically all I accomplished in 2013 was learning what NOT to do with make up. Cheers to 2014.

Happy 2014.

Confession #976421: I HATE New Years.
"Ah, the new year," I wrote on January 1, 2013. "People say, 'What goes up must come down.' But in that moment when you're sitting in the 20-foot ditch 2012 threw you in, you really just want to make a new rule that says, 'What goes down must come UP.' That'd really be nice for a change."
Less than a week later I wrote, "I'm not okay. I'm sure I'll be okay later; I'm just not right now." Well, later never really came in 2013. This New Years has probably been the most depressing of any year before. I made 0 goals, and I didn't want to. I hate that whole fresh start thing, because we treat every year like it's own separate thing. Everyone thinks the new year and their new life is a package deal, but it's not. In a week or two you'll be back to doing whatever tedious and repetitive things you did last year. Writing a 4 instead of a 3 on your checks won't make your bills any cheaper. Wishing you could lose 50 pounds won't make you any thinner. But maybe that's what I hate about New Years goals: no one ever does anything about them. I never do anything about them. And now the beginning of the year just represents all of the things I failed to do last year. I hate that.

I'll Be Home For Christmas

A lot of people are going skiing or sledding, or shopping for gifts. They might be traveling in airplanes or cars or trains to go visit their loved ones. They might be reading good books or playing fun video games. They might be making Christmas pies and treats to drop on the neighbor's doorstep.
I'm not. I'm sitting in my heated home, under a warm blanket and a warm dog, doing absolutely nothing. I like it like that.

Dandelion Seeds

"I hardly write anymore because I didn't want to disappoint you guys like I keep disappointing myself. I wanted you to think I'm strong. But I feel weak, and ignoring it isn't making it go away. Plus no one who reads this blog really cares anyway, like this post isn't going to change anyone's life. I'll post it, and it will be lost in cyberspace like a dandelion seed in the wind."

That was the very end of a long post I just wrote and decided not to publish. I wrote a lot just now, and I cried a lot too. I wrote about how I lost all hope. But I couldn't post it. Why not? I asked myself. Because I didn't want to solidify it--I didn't want to put the final stamp and signature on my Failure Certificate. And I think that's because I do have hope. Contrary to what I've been telling myself, I do have hope for life to get better, or I would have posted those things I wrote earlier today. Maybe I will feel better one day. On that day I'll write a killer blog post.

The 5th of December

I've never been one to hide my birthday. I love birthdays. I love singing and candles and family and sweet things. There is nothing better.
Everyone keeps asking, "What does it feel like to be 17?" I always say it feels the same, but that's not true. Today doesn't feel like yesterday, or the day before. Because I spend so much of my life worrying and overanalyzing and sometimes wishing I didn't have to live.
But one day a year, I get 24 hours to simply celebrate being alive, surrounded by the people who make it worth it.
Huge thanks to everyone who made my birthday so special. Family, friends, and internet stalkers alike. I love you guys.