Tag Archive: middle school


I found a book in the study today that I was unaware that we owned. This is not really a difficult thing to achieve, as I have not actually taken an inventory of all the books we own.  But, you know, still. I found this random book and was surprised.

It’s kind of awesome actually, which makes me think this book belongs to Drew.

The tiny, weird-looking D’s throughout the book also make me think this book belongs to Drew, since his handwriting is super jank.

Or I could pretend that this book belongs to my very own version of The Half-Blood Prince.

This book is entitled 501 Things To Do If You DARE.

This book is obviously not mine. I don’t dare to do anything. I’m the biggest chicken-shit I know.

Let’s start off easy.  I’ll take a look at the very first thing to do if I dare.

Public Things: #1 Ride a Roller Coaster

Rating: One skull  & cross bones

For an added thrill, do it without holding onto the restraints.

There’s a small D written beside this one. The Half-Blood Prince is telling me he’s done this one. As have I. And I have done it with no hands, too. Who’s a badass now?!

#2 Drive an Autobahn

Rating: Four skull & cross bones.

A wide, well-maintained road with no speed limit? Mama, sign me up! In some places there are speed limits (and concessions made for conditions throughout), but it’s mainly a megafreeway with no restrictions on your lead-foot instinct.

Fuck no. I’m a terrible driver and don’t trust others. No thank you.

Oh, here’s one.  I jumped around to Athletic Things, located within the Public Things section.

#87 Go deep-sea fishing.

Rating: one skull & cross bones.

There is another D written by this one. The Half-Blood Prince is just a copy cat at this point.

I’m fairly certain that I have done this. I remember on one trip to Florida (with Dad and our first step-mom), we went fishing on this big-ass boat in the ocean. I remember having no form of excitement for this activity as 1.) I have no desire to fish; 2.) I don’t particularly enjoy the open sea; 3.) I suffer from extreme motion sickness.

I shit you not: I had to put my head between my knees and focus on my own breathing to avoid tossing my cookies in a planetarium. A PLANETARIUM. The stars were moving to fucking fast. Talk about middle school embarrassment. As if puberty and petty bitches weren’t enough to deal with in middle school. Ugh.

As far as the deep sea fishing adventure, all I can remember is feeling extremely sick, trapped on a giant boat in the middle of the ocean for hours. I remember getting sick and having my dad hold my hair back while everyone else had a grand old time fishing for sharks or whatever the fuck else lives in the ocean.  I also remember my step-mom telling me I was ruining our vacation by being sick on the boat during the fishing trip and how I was a whiney little brat in the car ride down to Florida because HI I HAVE MOTION SICKNESS AND BEING PACKED IN A VAN WITH FOUR OTHER KIDS SITTING BITCH NO LESS, A FUCKTON OF LUGGAGE AND MULTIPLE COOLERS WITH “SNACKS” WHILE THE WINDOWS ARE UP AND YOU SUCK DOWN YOUR CANCER STICKS IN THE FRONT SEAT AS WE WATCH COOL RUNNINGS AND 3 NINJAS* OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND EATING NOTHING BUT MCDONALDS FOR TWO DAYS AND HATING YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU ARE BECAUSE YOU’RE THE DEVIL AND YOU RUINED MY FAMILY BY BEING A BITCHY, INTRUDING HOME-WRECKING WHORE— uh, I guess I could stop there …

Awkward….

Anyway, where was I?

Yeah, motion sickness.

And I’m the life-ruiner??

* I was not mad at all about watching Cool Runnings and 3 Ninjas over and over again.

Finally, I looked at the very last thing to do if I dare. I thought it would be intense and exciting but it’s not. It doesn’t even bear a notation from the Half-Blood Prince.

#501 Drink some tea

Rating: one skull and cross bones

Dude. I drink vanilla chai tea all the time! It is my jam. Yummo. I have conquered #501!

Perhaps I should make some now to come down from that rage blackout you just witnessed…

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I’ve been menstruating since, like, sixth grade. Blood coming out of my body is not necessarily a new thing.

But, um, that blood comes out of my vagina. And it’s regular, you know? Like, I can pretty much count on it.  And when I forget about it, I just have to remember the last time I cried in my bed for three days in a row for no particular reason (e.g. Drew uses the last of the milk on his second bowl of cereal Christmas morning; a stranger at Meijer gives me a dirty look; a Folgers Coffee commercial on TV) and I’ll realize that it’s about that time again.

But, this morning, when I realized that my body was gushing blood, I freaked the fuck out.

I do not like blood. I’d be, like, the worst vampire ever. It makes me queasy. Ever since Drew wrecked his face and I had to run from the neighbor’s house at age 5 (or something?) to tell our parents Drew’s lip was … not really on his face anymore, things just haven’t been okay for me and Blood. Even when it comes out of my vagina, I have to distance myself from it; I have to pretend it’s not really blood. Ugh. I have the willies just thinking about it.

Anyway, this gushing blood? It was not coming from my ladybox.

(Sorry I talked about my vagina, Drew.)

I can’t even tell you the last time I had a bloody nose.

Even though I’m clumsy as fuck and run into shit all the time, I haven’t hit my nose in a way that makes it bleed. When Drew chucked a tennis ball at my face, my nose didn’t bleed.

I wasn’t even participating in a strenuous activity. Nothing happened. There was no trauma to my face.

(This leads me to believe that something exploded in my brain and that I’m probably going to die.)

I was driving to work this morning, just driving along listening to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on CD when OUT OF NOWHERE my nose started gushing blood. Literally. I couldn’t get a Kleenex to my face fast enough. There was SO MUCH BLOOD. And it was everywhere.

I was so ill-equipped.  What, with the almost-empty, smashed-to-hell box of Kleenex I keep in my car, the fact I was driving at a barely-legal 78 miles an hour on I-96 at 8am, and OH YEAH I HAVE NEVER HAD A BLOODY NOSE AND ALL OF MY FIRST-AID TRAINING APPARENTLY FLEW OUT OF MY BRAIN IN A PANIC BECAUSE I DO NOT POSSESS GRACE UNDER FIRE.

My intention was that I would be able to stop at Starbucks or Beaners (fuck that, I refuse to call it Biggby) to grab a caramel macchiato or chai latte (respectively) and make it to work on time. Ohhhh, no. That did not happen, although I did pull into the Starbucks parking lot to try to stop the bleeding. To no avail.

I drove the rest of the way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my nose while I called my mother in a panic (she didn’t pick up; she doesn’t love me.) and machine gun-like sobs escaped from my lungs. I cried my way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my left nostril.

So attractive.

When I finally got to work, it looked like I had killed someone.

There was blood ALL OVER my scarf (the one Drew brought home for me from VIENNA!), my coat, the steering wheel in my car, my pants, both of my hands and all down my arms.

I was a fucking mess.

Seriously, that kid on youtube who got all upset about the blood? You know what I’m talking about: BLOOD?! NOT FUNNYYYYYYY!!! He was fucking right.

I even opened the first aid kit I keep in my car for sanitizing wipes to wipe all of the blood off of my hands and the steering wheel.  It only kinda worked, though, because the first aid kit is kinda old and it has been sitting in my car for a while so the wet-wipe thing I used was dried out.  So, mostly, I dumped a fuck-ton of antibacterial hand gel everywhere and wiped with the not-wet-at-all wet-wipe (because I DIDN’T HAVE ANYMORE KLEENEX LEFT!). Things didn’t really work out for me this morning as I was self-conscious about my bloody-ness all day long.

Here’s the silver lining though: at least this didn’t happen on a Monday. My whole week would have been fucked.

(OMG I can’t believe I’m even about to say this- because it’s terrible and very, very offensive, but oh well I’m going to anyway…) All I could think of, though, through the whole ordeal: If I had The HIV, this would be a nightmare. And if I was a hemophiliac, I would be so fucked right now.