Less Than A Week

Currently Listening To: Forgotten Works by Klaxons
Sure, posts about my upcoming birthdays are uninteresting on a cosmic scale, but I still felt the need to talk about it.

In less than a week, I will turn seventeen. This means that I will have ceased to be sixteen, and will never return to that point ever again. That seems obvious, but ti's still mind blowing and depressing. I like sixteen. Sure, seventeen has its perks (er, perk; R-rated movies... and NC 17 movies), but I still like sixteen. Seventeen sounds too old. Too old, at least, to spend my afternoons playing N64. Now, instead of being eccentric, I'll just be pathetic. That's no good.



AAAAND I got on homecoming court, which is even weirder than turning seventeen. I mean, really, of all people, me? But I've decided to just roll with it. I even commissioned the design of some campaign posters (even though you don't campaign for homecoming king, or so I'm told), but they were deemed offensive and promptly ripped down during some teacher's planning period. But it's all gravy. AAAAND there was this whole ordeal of the school expanding homecoming court from six to nine girls (and subsequently boys), supposedly because of a tie, but I heard that there were some notable omissions, and so edits were made. SCANDALOUS. But then there's this one guy who, despite being on court the past three years and I think winning it once, didn't make it this year, even though the odds were better. I like to think that I was number nine, and he's number ten. Not that I have anything against him personally; it just makes me feel better about my sad, sorry self.

I still don't think a picture of Conan with my mug on it is that offensive; I didn't even have that little herpesmudge on my lips in it.

P-P-P-P-Pneumothorax is a word that is long;
Nah, just trying to put the punk back into punctured lung